“Does a 16 hit you?” he winced a bit as he asked, he knew it did.
“It does…” she replied, scanning her character sheet to see how many hit points her character had left.
“1d6 plus one,” he said from across the table, “take four hit points of damage as the bandit hits you with his scimitar.”
“Ouch!” She tapped her full lips thinking. “Hmm. Math isn’t my strong suit, but one more hit will probably kill Ida…” she pouted, “Can I disengage, hide and sneak out of here?”
He nodded, “DC 15.”
She rolled. A critical failure. Ida Gottit was going to die in the shortest D&D session ever. This wouldn’t be happening if the other players had shown up, but there was a storm and she was the only one that hadn’t cancelled. Rather than send her home, he’d created a one-shot, a small urban quest for her to learn the class and brush up on playing… she hadn’t played since high school. “I rolled a one.”
His rich laugh filled the room. “Ida disengages, attempting to hide behind the pillar, and trips. She is now prone. New round, roll initiative at disadvantage.”
The sound of the dice rattled as she rolled twice. “Six and nine. Six.” She laughed, it didn’t look like Ida was going to make it out of this… level one was so squishy!
“The bandit goes first this round, rolling at advantage because you’re prone.” His dice rattled on the table. “That hits, I don’t even need to roll again…”
She groaned, “I’m going to have to roll a new character for the campaign, aren’t I?”
“That depends on how much damage I roll,” he rolled his d6, “Oh-ho! Where does seven points of damage leave you?”
Her lips twisted in distaste. “Negative five… is that bad?”
“It isn’t good!” his rich laughter filled the room.
“Oh well, this is what I get for not playing a cleric.” she sighed, “Can someone retrieve my body and revive me? Or is the bandit going to do unspeakable things to her?”
“Oh, he’ll be doing unspeakable things…”
She smiled, her laugher joining his, she liked the way he thought. “The bandit should revive her so she’s alive to enjoy it.”
Laughing, he shut down the screen and pushed his dice to the side. “You, my dear, need better dice.”
“And you, sir, need worse dice.” She replied, “Care to trade?” she added, pushing the awful dice set towards him with a wink.
“No,” he laughed, “those dice should be burned!”
He was right, she’d rolled nothing above a twelve the whole time… granted, they’d only been playing for half an hour, but they were awful dice.
“Can I keep Ida, even though she’s dead,” she asked, “or do I have to roll a new character?” She paused, “I really want to play her… for more than 30 minutes.”
He flipped through his notes, checking to see what the other classes were in the party. She’d chosen an arcane trickster because there was already a cleric and it sounded fun.
A slow smile played on her lips. “What if I were to use persuasion?”
He looked up from his notes and smiled. “Your dice haven’t been rolling very well tonight.”
Her hands unbuttoned the first button on her top. “If I were to do something persuasive, would I get advantage?”
His eyes followed her hands as they worked… two buttons… three. Her cleavage was fully exposed. Four buttons… five. The top was open and she sat across the table in a sheer bra, her nipples showing through the lace. She dropped her shirt to the ground and stood.
His eyes were locked on her chest as she stood to unzip her jeans, wiggling free until she stood across the table in nothing but glasses, a lacy bra and matching panties. Her nipples stiffened under the fabric. “Yes,” he replied, his voice husky, “definite advantage.”
She put both hands behind her back, working at the clasps, “and would the DC lower if I were to…?” Her bra joined her top and jeans on the ground as he nodded.
Stepping around the table, she stood next to his chair, her full breasts swayed at eye level. Bending forward to slowly slide her panties down, she spoke quietly, her breath whispered on his ear. “Would I even have to roll?” Her panties dropped to the floor.
He pulled her down onto his lap. His cock pushing against her through his clothes. “You must really like this character,” he laughed.
She pulled his head down so his mouth was on her breast. “No, but this will be more fun than rolling a new one!”
Licking her nipple he teased the other with his fingers. She moaned, wiggling in his lap as he buried his face in her big boobs. His other hand slid between her long legs, slowly inching from knee to thigh. Arching her back and spreading her legs, she pushed her soft mound against his fingers. His moan was quiet against her breast as his fingers stroked and teased. Hers was louder. His pants were getting wet as she writhed in his lap, pushing against his fingers, against his mouth.
“Mmmm…” she moaned, trying to stroke him through his jeans, under her bottom. It wasn’t working. “I thought I was trying to convince YOU, Mr Dungeon Master.”
She wiggled around, sliding down to her knees, tugging at the zipper on his pants, pulling them free. His cock stood at attention before her. So hard. For a moment it seemed she was going to climb back into his lap, but then she brought her lips down on him. Just a soft kiss on the head. Then a quick teasing lick on the shaft. His cock danced before her eyes as her lips and tongue teased him.
“I’m going to make you roll if you don’t stop teasing!” he threatened with a laugh.
She giggled a bit, teasing once more before swallowing him whole. His cock in her throat, her lips pressed against his balls, she moaned. His hand gripped her hair as her mouth slid up and down his shaft. “You…” he paused to moan, “you don’t have to roll.”
Her tongue swirled as she worked the full length of his cock; burying him in her throat, sucking up the shaft, flicking the head with her tongue, then back down into her throat. Her strokes were erratic; frenzied so he would get close, then soft and slow to keep him from climax. She made little slurping, sucking noises, moaning as she tasted him, as she thought about all of that length inside her. She reached between her legs, feeling her wetness, she was so ready. She slid her finger inside. “Mmm,” she added another finger, stroking herself as she tasted him.
She sucked him slowly now, softly. Looking up at him, she lifted her hand, showing him her wet fingers, quivering as he took her by the wrist, moaning softly as he licked her fingers clean. He pulled her to her feet as he rose and pushed her against the heavy wood table. Sinking to his knees, he worked his way down her body, she trembled beneath his hands and mouth. He put his lips on her mound, softly, teasing her the way she’d teased him. He kissed and nuzzled as she moaned, pushing her leg onto his shoulder so he might delve deeper. She gripped his head as he tasted her. His tongue licked and probed; teasing, tasting.
“No more,” she begged, “I need you inside me!”
Untangling himself from her trembling legs, he got to his feet, smiling down at her as he licked her juices from his lips. Lifting her by the hips, he set her on the edge of the table. She spread her legs for him, eyes focused on the length that would soon be inside of her. She spread her legs wider, hooking them over his arms and whimpered as he stepped a little closer, his cock barely brushing against her soft, wet lips. She couldn’t take her eyes off of that firmness. “Please,” she breathed.
She watched as he teased her, giving her an inch and then another and then no more than pressed against her lips. She pushed against him fighting for more as he teased, shivering with need. She pulled at his hips, moaning with desire, and he slowly buried himself inside her, inch by inch, pushing her back down to the table as he filled her. “Ouch!” She cried out.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, looking down at her with concern.
“No, not you,” she laughed, “I’m laying on a…” reaching back she pulled out a die and looked at it before tossing it to the side, “a d20.” She laughed, pulling his hips against her. “At least it wasn’t a d4!”
Filling her again, he smiled as he glanced at the die. “You won’t believe it, but you just rolled a 20.”
She laughed, spreading her legs further apart as he pushed deeper inside, feeling her tightness once again. He held her legs apart as he drove into her, watching his cock disappear inside her. She was so wet, so tight, so hot; he was iron hard. She reached over her head, gripping the table as he took her, boobs jiggling in time to his thrusting. His experimental strokes were done, he knew how she needed it. His movements became more forceful, angling deliciously, lifting her hips with each thrust; she moaned as he filled her, his cock caressing the very spot that many insisted didn’t exist.
She bucked with wild abandon, whimpering with need as the pressure built inside her. That delicious pressure… it swelled, surged; she was floating, shivering, screaming her release, orgasm rippling through her. His cock was flooded with wetness as she came, the convulsions pushing him to the edge. So hot… so wet… so tight… she collapsed limply beneath him, spent from the powerful release.
She watched as he pulled free, panting, licking her lips as his cock twitched, dancing against her mound as he shot his seed across her stomach. Her belly gleamed with wetness as she slowly sat up on the edge of the table. “That was amazing,” she purred, grinning, “I can’t wait to persuade you again.” She winked playfully, “Maybe the next time everyone else cancels I’ll ask for a Bag of Holding.”