Role Playing Games [F25, M25][Friends To Lovers][Roll The Dice][Roleplay][Unexpected Hookup][Say My Name]

"And with the end of your blade impaled through her chest, Helandra the Enchantress begins to perish and her summoned army of skeletons turn to ash and blow away with the wind. The encounter is over. You all reign supreme!"

The three others surrounding the table before me erupt into loud cheers, celebrating their triumph in the game.

"And with that we’ll call it a night."

Every Friday, my three friends, Shane, Lisa, and Gary, and I get together to play D&D. I am the designated Dungeon Master, and as such am responsible for facilitating the game, creating the story, and building the world and challenges for the other players to conquer.

They have just reached the end of a long grueling battle with the villain I created that they have been chasing down for several sessions now. And with all of their characters on the cusp of death they survived to play another day.

"That was great, Becca!" Lisa tells me excitedly.

"Yeah. That was awesome," her husband Gary agrees.

"I’m excited to see what you’ve got cooked up for us next week," Shane says.

"You’ll just have to wait and see!" I tease.

My friends all begin cleaning up the various papers and dice dispersed around the table, still chatting about the campaign and what they think might happen next, when Gary suddenly looks down at his phone.

"Geez, is it already that late? We gotta get going! We promised the babysitter we’d be back by midnight. Shane, do you mind if we cut out?"

Shane, the owner of the house and usual host for our gaming sessions, looks up from the table and smiles. "No problem, dude. I’ll get everything cleaned up."

"Thanks, man. We owe you one," Gary says standing up from the table.

"No really, thank you," adds Lisa.

"No worries," Shane replies unbothered.

Shane and I stand up to say our goodbyes to the couple as they dart out of the house. I sit back down and continue taking notes, jotting down ideas for next week's campaign, and eventually pack up all of my game materials in my bag to easily carry out of the house.

As I do that, Shane begins to carry the cups and plates that we used to snack off of for the past several hours into the kitchen. He turns on the water and begins washing them silently. Once I finish putting away my things, I walk in to join him.

"Can I help?" I offer.

"Sure, if you don’t mind," he responds.

I walk over to the drawer where he keeps his rags. And begin drying the dishes that he washes and putting them away, never having to ask where they go. We’ve done this many times before. And it won’t be the last.

As we work on the chore, I start up some small talk. "Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

"I don’t think so…" he responds softly. "I’ll probably work out. Game a little. You know? The usual."

"No big dates?" I prod.

He scoffs with a smirk. "No," he says bluntly.

I roll my eyes. "I’m telling you Shane. You need to get back out there. What’s it been? Six months now?"

"Eight…"

"That’s even worse."

"Look man, I’m trying. It’s just…hard," he replies.

"Come on. It can’t be that hard. You’re a decent enough looking guy. You’re smart. You’re funny. You have a job. Surely someone out there is interested."

I dry and put away the final dish as I await his response. "I don’t know. I’m just…not good at…talking to women I guess."

"You’re talking to me right now!" I exclaim

"You don’t count," he says with a smirk

"Wow! Rude!" I laugh and toss the rag at him as I turn to head back into the dining room. "Either way I don’t believe you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks offendedly as he follows me.

"I just don’t buy it," I retort.

"Well why not?" He stands in front of me pulling the rag against the back of his neck.

"Shane…" I pause trying to collect my thoughts. "We have been playing this game for years together now. And in all of that time, there has never been a moment where I have said something to you in character that you haven’t had an answer to. Regardless of the topic. Whether it’s serious, or silly, or sad, or happy, or menacing, or…shit, even flirty, you’ve never failed to respond in a way that works. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to talk to people!"

He pauses, stunned from the sudden sharp, but accurate read of his roleplaying abilities. "That’s different."

I laugh aloud. "How?"

"Well…that’s not me. I mean…it is me. But I’m not being myself. I’m being the character. So there’s no pressure. The stakes are lower, I guess."

I look at him curiously. "But what are the stakes in talking to a girl in real life? Like what’s really the worst that’ll happen? She says no? She says something mean? I say mean things to you all the time, and you can take it. I don’t see what the issue is."

"I don’t know. It just feels…" He looks away from me. "...personal."

We stand in silence for a moment as I think about what he says. "Well…what if it wasn’t so personal?" He looks back at me confused. "Like what if when you’re talking to girls, you imagine that you’re just playing a character?"

"That seems a little manipulative, doesn’t it?" he responds doubtingly.

"I don’t think so. Like, I don’t think you need to go into as a completely different person. Like you don’t have to make yourself some kind of badass warrior. You can just be…someone like you, but not you. You know?"

"No."

"I just mean…it seems that you are unable to open up to people because you feel like failing, is a condemnation of you as a person, right?"

"Sure."

"What I’m saying is that, it’s not. They’re only seeing a part of you, and just because that part "fails a charisma check", doesn’t mean that you are a failure. It’s just part of the game. And I think if you think about it that way, you’d be more open about yourself, and would have a much better chance actually finding a connection with someone," I explain.

"So basically, you would want me to "roleplay" as a character that is basically me, to create a protective barrier of my own ego in case things don’t work out?" he questions.

"Exactly!" I affirm.

I can see the gears turning in his head as he formulates his response. "That still feels like a weird adjustment to make."

"Well maybe you just need practice," I say confidently.

He snickers. "Yeah. How exactly am I going to do that?"

I think about it for a second before exclaiming, "Why not now? Here. With me."

He begins to laugh. I look back at him with an unchanging expression. "Oh. You’re serious."

"Completely. Why don’t you let me make a little scenario for you? I can be a girl that you’re trying to impress and you can be…you."

"That feels weird."

He starts to turn away in embarrassment. "Wait. Why?" I ask genuinely.

"I don’t know dude. It just is?"

"Come on Shane. We have been so many different characters in so many different situations. This doesn’t have to be any different." He turns back to face me and looks into my eyes. "Please! I just think it would be good for you."

He lets out a deep breath. "I just think I’m gonna be in my head about being…Shane."

"Okay. Well what if we give you a different name. You can be…Blaine. He’s a character that’s almost exactly the same as Shane. His backstory is filled in with the story of your life. You aren’t you. But you are trusting your instincts as Shane," I propose.

He looks around considering the concept. "I think that could work. But…who are you?"

I clap my hands excitedly. "You’ll see! But first…"

I run into the kitchen and open his fridge and pull out a couple of beers. I run back to the dining room and turn the dimmer on the wall too low before setting the beers down on the table across from each other.

"Let’s set the scene. You are Blaine. You’ve been single for eight months and are now trying to get back into the dating game. I will be Andrea, a girl that your friends have set you up with. We’ve never met. This is our first date. You arrived before me and ordered me a drink. Got it?"

"Sure but…" He hesitates.

"But what?"

"Becca, you’re my friend. And the whole point of this is to practice for an actual date. How do I know that you won’t just respond positively to make me feel better about myself? Or that you won’t just troll me the whole time by being an asshole"

That is a valid concern. I brainstorm ways to remove bias from myself. I snap my fingers "I got it!"

I lean over and reach into my bag and begin digging through my collection of dice. I pull out one with 20 numbered sides on it.

"We’ll roll for it. Anytime there feels like a risk or potential shift in attitude. You don't get to control how I respond. And neither do I."

His eyes seem to light up as he gazes at the familiar D20 in my hand. "I think that’ll work."

"Good. Are you ready to get started?" I ask him.

"Let’s do it!" he responds confidently.

"Alright one second!" I say excitedly as I scamper out of the room. I take a moment to collect myself and get in character before reentering the room as Andrea.

I walk through the doorway and begin looking around the room as if I have entered an unfamiliar bar. I can see him grin and shake his head as he watches me. I turn my eyes to him and wave excitedly as I feign recognition. I walk over to him slowly. He stands from his chair to greet me by extending out his hand.

"Hi there!" I say in my best southern belle accent. "You must be Blaine."

"I am," he responds. "And you must be Andrea."

"Sure as day!" He giggles. "What are you laughing at?"

"It…it’s nothing. Our friends just didn’t tell me you had an accent?"

"Oh…" I say disappointedly.

"No no no no! It’s not a bad thing! I like it! It just surprised me," he says defensively.

I take the die in my hand and roll it on the table next to us. It lands on a 14. I turn up to him with a smile, "Well thank you! I like your accent too!"

He lets out a relieved chuckle. "Here. Let’s sit."

He pulls out my chair for me before sitting across the table from me. "I bought you a drink," he says as he slides the beer can in front of me.

I roll the die again. 8. I look at the beer with a little bit of a grimace.

He immediately recognizes the look on my face. "Oh. Do you not like it?" he asks.

"I’m just not much of a beer drinker, but it’s okay," I respond.

"No no no. Let me fix that. I just ordered this because this is what I normally drink with our friends, so I just assumed. That’s my bad," he explains.

"Oh! That makes sense."

"So what’ll you have?" he asks as he stands up and moves over to his liquor cabinet.

"I’ll have a glass of wine if you don’t mind."

"Of course. Waiter!" he calls to nobody as he begins preparing the wine. "Yes sir!" he says in a fake French accent, turning his body to pretend to be the imaginary server. "What wines do you have available for the night?" He pulls a bottle out of the cabinet and holds it over his arm towards me. "Our special for ze night is a beautiful Winking Owl Moscato. Will zis be…how you say…satisfactory?"

I laugh at this silly little bit he’s running but run with it. "That will be wonderful. Thank you, Garcon."

"But of course," he says as he pours the wine into the class. "It is my pleasure." He hands me the glass before taking his seat across from me.

"Thank you sir. You’re a gift to the service industry!" he screams to the imaginary man presumably leaving the room. He turns back to me and says, "Now where were we?"

"We were just getting started." I roll the dice. 12.

I watch Shane’s eyes dart back and forth between the dice and my face, waiting for some kind of explanation. "What was that one for?" he asks nervously.

"Uh uh! No metagaming!" I say still in my thick southern accent.

"Come on, Becca. I have to know what it is that you’re rolling for if I want this to work," he complains.

I reach forward and grab one of his hands. He flinches as our skin touches. Our eyes meet and I speak to him in my own voice. "You aren’t entitled to every thought of anyone else. This is no different. Play the game. You’re doing great." He nods his head softly. I pull my hand back from his and develop my alternate persona. "Now I’ll give you a pass this once, but my name is Andrea, not Becca. If you keep confusing me with other girls you’re gonna find yourself getting the boot. Ya hear?"

He laughs. "Yeah. I hear you. Well, how about you tell me about yourself? Our friends didn’t really give me much to go off of. Just that you’re awesome."

"Awwwww. They’re sweethearts! What did you want to know?"

"Everything," he says confidently. "Tell me about your family."

We start our conversation. I quickly improvise a backstory for this woman that I am embodying. Shane stays attentive, nodding and smiling as I regale him with fictional stories about my upraising.

He occasionally asks questions, and to determine how vulnerable "Andrea" feels like being, I roll the die. With a mix of high and low numbers, the conversation varies from feeling cold and awkward at times to borderline oversharing at others. But Shane moves forward regardless.

Toward the start of the conversation, he seemed a bit uncomfortable, as he struggled to find the line between being himself and Blaine. But as time went on, he really found himself. No longer stiffly trying to calculate the "correct" answer for the best results, but just actually buying into the somewhat ridiculous situation that we had concocted.

"Wow, that sounds crazy!" Shane interjects after several minutes of speaking. "Your family sounds intense!"

"They’re something alright! But God bless ‘em. I love ‘em," I reply. "But hold your horses. We’ve been spending this whole evenin’ talkin’ about me. I wanna know about you too. So spill it, mister!"

"What is it you want to know?" he asks.

"Everything obviously," I reply as I finish my glass of wine.

He grabs my glass and begins to make his way back over to his liquor cabinet. He fills up the glass and sets it back down in front of me. I roll the die. 18.

"Well let’s see…" He begins telling me about his life.

At first, I know everything that he’s saying already. Where he’s from, where he went to school, the names of his friends, and some of his hobbies and am playfully acting oblivious as Andrea clearly would. But the longer that we talk the less and less that I know.

Suddenly Andrea isn’t the only one learning about him. Becca is as well. As he tells me stories from his childhood, and the drama of his extended family, some of his deeper than surface level thoughts I start to internally question how I’ve known this man for so long, but have never heard any of this. I guess that we’ve spent so long playing other people in D&D, that there wasn’t room to actually fully connect.

We talk nonstop for the next hour. I eventually have forgotten about the whole die rolling aspect of the game. And when I do remember the die in my palm, I worry about rolling it, because I don’t want to have to play off of a low number and potentially end the conversation. I want it to stay like this.

As we talk, I find myself drawn to his face. I’ve always thought that he was kinda cute. But more of a general platonic way, not a "I want him" kind of way. But that line is starting to feel blurred. I don’t know if it’s the wine, or if I’m just really in character, enjoying this date. But I’m starting to notice his features in ways that I never have before.

His eyes are so kind and so focused. When I look into them I feel like I’m the only thing in his world. His light brown hair sits messily on top of his head. It looks soft. I imagine what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. But the most notable feature is his mouth. So expressive as he speaks. His smile is intoxicating. And his lips…his lips seem so…soft. I wonder how it would feel to…

I shake myself out of the fantasy. I reach for my phone and check the time. "Oh gosh! It’s gettin’ late," I proclaim.

He checks his phone. "It is. Time flies I suppose."

"I really should be goin’. I’ve gotta get my tail to work tomorrow or my boss is gonna give me the business."

"Yeah, you don’t want to make Jennifer mad," he says referencing the fabricated employer I had mentioned earlier.

"You know it." I stand up, and try to give my final goodbye as the character. "This has been a wonderful night Blaine. I’m so glad that our friends hooked us up."

"It has been a wonderful night." He stands up and walks around the table to stand next to me. He looks at me and quietly growls. "It doesn’t have to end."

The sudden advance fills me with excitement. I no longer know if I’m talking to Blaine as Andrea or if I’m talking to Shane as myself. As I stare into his piercing eyes, my body starts to shake uncontrollably. I roll the die around in my palm, trying to figure out how to proceed when I accidentally fumble it onto the table..

The 20 sided die, that has structured the direction of the evening, begins to roll erratically once again. I watch as it begins to spin on one of its corners, sure to stop soon and reveal a number. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. My heart races as I await its results.

But just before it comes to a stop, Shane smoothly reaches over and covers it with his hand. I turn abruptly to him with a look of shock and confusion on my face. He looks up from the table and straight into my eyes.

"It’s a 20," he says firmly.

My jaw drops. He raises his free hand to my cheek. He hesitantly leans towards me moving his mouth closer. I fully submit to the temptation and close my eyes and purse my lips. He presses his kiss onto me gently at first, just barely letting our lips collide. My body feels like its melting as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in tight to a passionate kiss.

After that, we both lose control. We become a raging tornado of hands and lips moving across each other’s bodies. He lifts me up by the waist and I wrap my legs around him, allowing him to carry me through the house. He clumsily staggers down his hallway, colliding with walls, never relinquishing his kiss.

He makes it to his bedroom door and blindly attempts to find the knob. Once he does he twists it and pushes through. He stumbles forward a few more steps before slamming me down on the end of his bed.

Without a moment of hesitation he begins tearing away his clothes, yanking his collar over his head and sliding it up his body. I sit up on the mattress and do the same. As the fabric of my shirt passes in front of my face I can feel him grasp the waistband of my pants. Both of us are now in a frenzy to get me naked and prepare my body for his touch.

I toss my shirt to the side of the room. He peels my yoga pants down my legs and drops them to his side. I look up at his shirtless body as he stands over me. I wait impatiently anticipating him to tear down his pants and have his way with me. But to my surprise, he drops to his knees.

I spread my legs as he pulls me toward him. He leans in slowly, lightly kissing my skin. I twitch from his touch. After a few more pecks, he begins to use his tongue. Gently licking between my lips. Exploring me. Relishing the taste.

I look down my body and can see the top of his head. His face is buried between my thighs. His hair still looks inviting. I reach down and run my fingers into his brown locks. It’s as soft as I had envisioned. As my fingers play in his hair he begins to pick up his pace.

His exploratory meandering shifts to deliberate, effective stimulation of my pussy. He expertly circles his tongue around my clitoris, filling me with ecstasy. My excitement builds quickly. My fingers have now grasped onto his hair to pull him into my crotch to ensure that he continues.

Before long I can feel it coming. I can feel myself inadvertently thrusting my hips towards his face. Soft moans are escaping me as my body begins to quake. And after just a few more seconds of him eating me out, I reach my orgasm. My legs squeeze around his head and my head rolls back onto the bed. My chest heaves as I struggle to breathe shallow, uncontrollable breaths.

My head is spinning. A sense of pleasure and calm washes over me and I release the leglock that I have on his head. He pulls away and stands up off of his knees. I look up at him standing shirtless only clothed by a pair of shorts with a noticeable bulge protruding through the fabric.

"May I give you more?" he asks gently.

"I’m ready," I say, reverting back to the southern accent I had been using as Andrea. I shake my head slightly at the Georgian drawl, not really sure why I was still speaking like that. A slight worry that the continued roleplay was unwanted washes over me. But as I watch him drop his shorts to reveal a thick, raging erection, I realize that he seems to be into it.

He stands closer to me, gripping the base of his meaty shaft. He places the tip between my lips, gently sliding it up and down between my folds. I breathe deeply as he teases me. After another moment, I can feel him readjust himself, lowering down to the hole. He takes a brief pause before pressing forward and sliding into me.

I let out a moan as his dick begins to fill me. I can feel myself stretch to accommodate him. He starts to thrust in and out of me, slowly at first, but eventually finds good speed and rhythm. I look up at him and can see the muscles in his chest and arm flexed, making them more defined than I have ever noticed before.

"Do you like that?" he asks.

"I love it," I say still maintaining the voice of my character.

He leans down and kisses me on the lips as he continues stroking. As we kiss, moans start to escape me. I can hear Shane start to breathe a bit more erratically. He occasionally grunts as he drives his hips into mine.

After a minute, he slows his pace. He fixes his gaze on me. "You feel amazing," he says, almost laughing.

"You’re not so bad yourself," I respond sweetly.

His pace has slowed entirely. Each thrust is long and deliberate allowing me to savor every inch of his cock as he works it inside of me. His eyes are glued to my face. His expression is soft.

"I need you to do something," he lets out.

"What’s that, hon?" I reply.

An intensity builds in his eyes as he makes his request, "I need you…to say my name."

A smile forms on my face as I prepare to speak. In my most exaggerated accent, I whisper, "Oh Blaine!"

He stops his thrusts nearly fully withdrawn from me and replies sternly, "No Becca!" I flinch at the sound of my actual name, having not heard for hours. I look at him confused. "Becca…I need you to say MY name. My real name," he growls.

I nod gently. I revert back to my natural voice before saying it. "Shane."

He immediately plunges deep into me clapping his body against mine. I moan as he collides against me. He pulls out again. I look straight into his eyes. "Shane!"

CLAP

"SHANE!"

CLAP

"SHANE! SHANE! SHANE!"

"GOD PLEASE FUCK ME SHANE!" I plead.

He begins to powerfully slam himself into me. I can see the excitement flowing out of him. And the harder he drives into me, the more that excitement finds itself in me. I can feel a pressure build within me. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. The intensity is too much.

"Shane…you’re gonna make me…I’m gonna…AHHHH!" I let out a high pitched scream of ecstasy as I cum. I clasp on the sheets as my body continues to get rocked from the forceful, unrelenting strokes into me. I can feel an unshakable quiver in my torso.

As I’m losing myself to pleasure I can hear him above me growling out, "Oh…fuck…Becca!" And as my name escapes his mouth, a warmth spreads inside of me. He grunts as he shoots his load deep inside of me. The extra stimulation extends the orgasmic pleasure. Shane collapses forward onto me, leaving us as a single hot, heaping, twitching mound of flesh.

We both heave together as we try to recollect our breaths. His skin feels moist from sweat. After a while we have both recovered, but we continue to lie together. My arms wrapped around him with him still fully inserted into me.

He eventually pulls back just far enough away to look at me. I smile as I look up at beautiful eyes. He seems…uncertain.

"That was great," I say reassuringly.

"It was…" he responds timidly. "Can I ask you something?" he asks

"Of course," I say as I raise my hand to his chest.

"How much of that was…real?" he struggles to get out.

"Oh! Shane, I don’t fake. That was all you." I explain.

"No no no. Not like that." He pauses as he tries to find the words. "I guess…how much of this…was Andrea and Blaine? And how much of it was actually…you and me?"

He dips his head to avert his gaze. I reach both of my hands up and grab the sides of his face and turn it towards me. I respond slowly and clearly, "Shane…this wasn’t what I expected or planned for tonight…" He tries to turn away but I pull him back to look into my eyes. "BUT…this is what I wanted. Not Andrea. Not because I thought you were something that you’re not. I wanted you. It just took a little role play to figure it out."

I smile appears on his face. The sadness in his eyes has become relief and happiness. He leans down and kisses me softly on the lips, then the nose, then on the forehead, before pulling out of me.

He rolls over next to me in bed. I cuddle up next to him and rest my head on his chest. And we drift off to sleep with our bare skin pressed against the other.