Player 2 arrives.
Based on the post of MsCherylTerra, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.
At no point in the history of time or space would I have thought I'd end up geeking out over The Circlet of Nianus with Ashton Halliday. I mean, at no point would I have ever thought I'd end up sitting in the backseat of my car, chatting excitedly about games we'd recently played and upcoming ones we were looking forward to. There was no reason for me to think we'd get into a heated debate about which Final Fantasy was best, or that he'd have bad enough taste to claim that Final Fantasy VII was better than Final Fantasy VI.
"Next you're going to tell me you think Wheatley is a better villain than GLaDOS," he groaned.
"Of course not!" I said indignantly. "Wheatley's hilarious, but he's a moron. GLaDOS is smart enough to be an actual villain. But the real question is, do you think Cave Johnson is funnier than both of them or are you wrong?"
Ashton threw his head back as he laughed. "We're in full agreement on that."
"Phew," I said, leaning against the door. "It's a good thing you said that, otherwise there's no way we could be friends."
"Are we friends?" he asked.
My laughter faded as I met his eyes. There was still a half-smile on his lips, but his eyes studied me seriously.
"I mean; we aren't, you know. Not friends," I said.
"Yeah, but we used to be, like, actual friends."
I fidgeted nervously. "We were kids."
"Doesn't mean we weren't friends," he replied. "I don't really know why we stopped hanging out, Ramona."
I swallowed hard. There was no reason for his words to sting so much; we'd stopped being friends because he hadn't invited me to his ninth birthday party. It was stupid. It was petty.
And it bothered me that he didn't remember.
"I need to turn the car off," I said. "You can keep charging, just; I don't want to waste gas."
Before he could respond, I opened the door. The rush of night air was a relief against my flushed skin and I took my time walking around the vehicle and turning it back to accessory mode before returning to the back seat.
"Ramona; " he started when I got in.
"Do you mind getting the dome light?" I interrupted. "It'll drain the battery too fast."
He paused, then reached up and turned the light off as I shut the door. As I adjusted to the sudden darkness that fell over us, I realized how small the inside of my car felt.
"I believe you've got some Pokemon to master," I said, just for something to fill the silence. "And Zelda's not going to free herself from Calamity Ganon."
"True," Ashton said lightly. "But I have a proposal for you."
I closed my eyes and sighed. "I don't want to talk about; "
"Mario Kart."
I paused, then frowned. "What?"
Ashton's face was barely visible in the darkness, but between his tone and the glimmer in his eyes, I could tell he was smiling.
"Mario Kart," he repeated. "Let's play it together."
"You want to play; Mario Kart?"
"Okay, full disclosure?" he said. "I fucking love Mario Kart and no one ever wants to play it with me, and it's not as fun as a single-player game. Since we're hanging out anyway, let's play together."
I was relieved that we were back to video game talk, though my confusion about his sudden dropping of the whole "friends" thing was slow to fade.
"Okay," I said slowly. "One problem, though."
"I'll buy you the game if you don't have it," he said immediately.
"How am I supposed to download it? The power's out and I don't know what kind of fancy Honda your dad drives, but my car isn't equipped with Wi-Fi."
"One step ahead of you." There was a rustling sound as he fiddled around for a moment, then I winced as the sudden brightness of his phone lit up the interior of the car. "I'll hotspot my phone. And we can do local play once you download it so we won't even need to stay connected."
I looked at his phone, then up at the excitedly twinkling eyes gazing at me in the ghostly glow of the screen light.
"You're really into Mario Kart, eh?" I said, amused.
"Come on," he said, grinning. "I'll even go easy on you. At first."
"Don't bother," I said, grabbing my Switch. "I'll have you know I'm a fucking champ when it comes to Mario Kart and there's no way I'm going easy on you."
Ashton Humbled.
By a glow that was ironically ghastly given the colorful nature of anything Mario-related, I destroyed Ashton.
"Have you ever even played this game before?" I asked after the first race, where I easily came in first.
"Beginner's luck," he said.
"Beginner? I've been playing Mario Kart since before you were born."
He opened his mouth, then closed it and frowned. "I'm three months older than you."
"Details, details," I said, then joined the next race.
"I might be a little rusty," he admitted after I wiped the floor with him again in the next race.
"A little?"
"Once I find my groove, you're going to be begging for mercy."
"Sure, Ash. Gotta catch me first."
He groaned as I giggled.
During the third race, I managed to run him off a cliff.
"Jerk," he muttered.
"Bitch," I replied, and he burst out laughing.
"Just Supernatural or are you part of the whole trifecta?"
I rolled my eyes as I drifted around a corner. "Do I look like I'm part of SuperWhoLock?"
"Blue hair, eyebrow piercing, complete and utter disdain for an overbearing mother? You're the fucking poster child for Tumblr."
I missed hitting an Item Box as I glared at my screen. "Asshole."
He laughed. "What, you can dish it out but you can't take it?"
I gritted my teeth as an NPC Bowser blasted past me. "Let me remind you whose car this is and whose charger you're currently using."
"Oh," he said, his laughter falling as flat as my tone had. "I; sorry."
"Whatever."
We finished the rest of the race in silence. I still beat him, but I didn't come in first.
"I was joking," he said when he finally crossed the finish line and the characters began to whirl around the track automatically. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
"Your hair looks awesome," he continued. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad about it or something. You look so; "
"I don't care about that," I interrupted, partly because the fact he was complimenting my appearance was making me tingle in a way that was almost infuriating, since I shouldn't care at all what Ashton Halliday thought of how I looked, but mostly because it wasn't the thing that had bothered me. "I just don't need to be reminded about my mother right now."
He was quiet for a moment. "Is everything; are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said. "I don't want to talk about it."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod.
"Got it." He mashed one of the buttons on his Switch. "Come on, start the next race. I've got a good feeling about this one."
I snorted. "A good feeling about losing?"
"I'm gonna make you eat those words."
"Looks like I'm going to be starving."
"Big talker," he said. "You just wait."
He came closer to beating me that time; neither of us came in first but he was only a couple of seconds behind me.
"Hope you're hungry," he teased.
"Oh, that's right!" I said suddenly.
"What?"
I dug through the pocket on the back of the passenger seat. "Want some Oreos?"
"Does the Pope shit in the woods?"
"Depends on if the bear is Catholic."
We both snickered, then went silent as we each popped an Oreo in our mouths. The dim light from our Switches filled the car, and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as he grabbed another cookie.
"Can I ask you something stupid?" I asked suddenly.
He took a bite of the Oreo. "Yeah."
I picked up another one but didn't eat it, choosing instead to fidget with it by twisting the chocolate discs. "Don't laugh."
"I might."
"When we were kids, in like; third grade, I think? Maybe fourth?" I knew it was third grade, but I was trying to pretend like it was slightly less of a big deal than I was making it. "Sometime around then. You; you had a birthday party. Playing laser tag, I think."
"Yeah, sounds about right," he said lightly.
I swallowed hard, still twisting the Oreo back and forth. "Why didn't you invite me?"
"I did."
I pressed my lips together as my stomach tightened. Of course he didn't remember.
"You didn't," I said. "Everyone was super excited about it and then the day came and; "
"And your mom called and said you didn't want to go," he finished.
I looked up, my eyes wide, to see him staring back at me with a hard expression on his face.
"It was third grade, not fourth," he said. "And my mom was mad because I'd insisted you were gonna come even though you didn't respond to the invitation. She'd already paid for everything for the party and your mom only called her like an hour before it started."
"What?" I said. "That can't be right."
"Trust me. I remember my mom being pissed about it."
I bit my lip. "She said I wasn't invited."
Ashton's face softened as he saw the confusion on mine. "Your mom totally hated me, Ramona. I mean, I kinda figured but my mom confirmed it after your mom called the police on me for skateboarding after ten p.m. at the park."
"What?!"
He started laughing. "Yeah, when I was like, fifteen. I mean, I seriously wasn't doing anything besides skateboarding, but I was scared shitless when the cops came and brought me home. I was lucky, though. He hung out to tell my mom that they only had to do something because Liz Roth was the one who called it in and that technically the bylaw did say that the park was closed after ten. After he left my mom said your mom thought I was a bad influence because she and her never got along." He took another cookie from the package, his smile fading. "I thought you'd just decided we weren't friends or something because you stopped wanting to hang out and you wouldn't even talk to me at school. I didn't know; she really told you I hadn't invited you?"
I couldn't bring myself to respond. Yeah, she had told me Ashton hadn't invited me to his birthday party. And that had been so hurtful that I stopped being friends with him. And for; well, for ten years, since we were nineteen now, we hadn't been friends because my mom thought a child was, what, a bad influence? A troublemaker? And she'd;
"She called the police on you?" I asked, my voice shaking with anger.
"Yeah," he said.
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be."
"But; "
"Seriously, don't be." He looked at me earnestly. "I'm sorry I didn't ever ask you about it. It's not your fault she's; "
"; such a bitch?" I finished as he trailed off.
He chuckled. "Your words, not mine."
I shook my head. "And she wonders why I don't want to be her goody-two-shoes mini-me anymore."
"So the hair and piercing are because you're rebelling?" he asked.
"No," I said stubbornly. "They're because I like them and now I can do the things I like."
"Right."
I glanced at him, trying to hide an abashed smile. "And maybe a little because I'm rebelling."
He grinned. "You know what would be a great way to really stick it to your mom?"
I raised my eyebrows.
"Being friends with me again," he continued. "Imagine how pissed she'd be if she found out we were hanging out."
"I've been friends with people for stupider reasons," I said. "Sounds good to me."
"Awesome." He grabbed another Oreo. "Now, you gonna keep stalling, or are you ready for me to destroy you in the next cup?"
"Bring it on, big talker."
The Theory.
"I have a theory," he said a while later.
"What's that?"
"You didn't really go away to university." He wagged a finger at me. "You've spent the past year training in a super secret location to be the world's top Mario Kart eSports player, and you just hustled me into thinking you haven't played in years so you could get a free copy for your Switch."
I smirked at him as my Yoshi raced around the track on my screen. "Believe whatever conspiracy you need to comfort yourself after losing again."
"Oh, yeah?" He put his Switch down on his lap as his Toad did another automated lap. "Prove it."
"Prove what? Mario Kart doesn't even have any official competitions."
"Sounds like something someone deep in the underground world of Nintendo eSports would say. You're gonna have to do better than that."
"What, like you want to see my student ID or something?"
He shook his head. "Anyone can fake one of those. Tell me something only someone who goes to university would know."
I laughed. "Like what?"
He shook his head teasingly. "I can't tell you. That would be cheating and all you're doing is proving my theory."
"How am I supposed to prove it?" I giggled. "What, you want to know how many frat parties I've been to or something?"
"Frat parties?" Ashton said with interest. "Have you been to many?"
I felt my skin get warm. "No, I; not really."
He shifted in his spot, turning to face me. "What's 'not really' mean?"
I bit my lip. "Well, I went to like; a couple. But I didn't stay very long. Not really my scene."
"Not a partier?"
"I didn't say that."
He grinned. "Tell me some party stories. It's not concrete proof but it'll help convince me a little."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't have a lot of stories. I went to some parties, I drank some beer, maybe did a little dancing."
"Dancing?" he repeated. "That's it?"
"Pretty much."
Ashton smiled knowingly. "With one person or just kind of whoever?"
"Are you asking me if I slept around?" I asked.
He raised his hands. "No judgement from me. I'm just curious."
"I don't have a boyfriend, if that's what you mean."
"Girlfriend?"
"Nope. Why, you applying?"
"Do you want me to?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
"I'm just messing around," Ashton said after a moment, his face going serious. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's okay," I said. "Just, um, unexpected. I didn't really; you know. Do the party-hook-up thing." Or any hook-up thing, but I didn't add that part. "Mostly I sat around eating chips and talking games."
"That's what we're doing right now." He folded his arms. "Not a very convincing argument."
"I don't know what to tell you," I said. "I've been in university for a year. You just suck at Mario Kart."
"I do not," he said. "I just spent my year at university studying and behaving like a good, upstanding citizen instead of going to frat parties and hustling people at Mario Kart."
"Oh, bullshit," I cackled. "How many people did you 'dance' with, Ashton?"
"Just my girlfriend," he replied.
My throat felt dry. "Oh."
"Until she broke up with me," he continued. "Then, like, three other people. Figured why not, you know?"
"Right," I said.
I didn't know what to make of the twitching little emotion in my chest. If I didn't know any better, I would have called it jealousy. But it couldn't be jealousy. This was the first time Ashton and I had talked; really talked; in; well, forever, I suppose. I mean, nine-year-olds aren't known for their intellectual and deep conversations, and while we'd spoken in passing during high school, it wasn't like this.
On the other hand; ugh.
"Is this too weird?" he asked frankly. "I'm serious, Ramona. Just tell me to shut up if this is getting too personal or something."
I bit my lip. It wasn't too personal. Aside from the fact that we were really just getting to know each other for the first time, I trusted him, and he was; well. I didn't know if he was asking because he was trying to feel out if I would be okay with him hitting on me or something, but if he was, I knew it was because he liked me as more than just a concept. I mean, he'd known me since we were kids, and he knew about my crazy mom, and he was understanding, and kind, and funny, and; well.
"I just don't have anything, um, interesting to say," I finally said. "I don't mind talking about it, I just; I didn't meet anyone worth writing home about. Not that I'd want to tell my mom about it, anyway. She'd; well."
"Wouldn't approve or would immediately start planning a wedding?" he asked.
I smiled down at my Switch. "Wouldn't approve. She's pretty conservative about that kind of thing. Which sucks, because I want to be a bit more open to, you know; " I cleared my throat. "; trying new things or whatever. But it's hard to get past all the things she said. Like, there was this pajama party where they started playing strip beer pong and I wanted to play but; I dunno."
He listened thoughtfully, nodding as I finished. "You started overthinking it."
"Yeah, like I am right now," I muttered, which was apparently a lie because I did not think that through.
"What are you overthinking right now?"
I glanced up at him, suddenly vulnerable, suddenly alarmed. Ashton looked back at me steadily, his eyes wide but friendly, intrigued but safe. I wanted to tell him; I wanted to say I was wondering why he'd asked, and ask what he'd really meant when he said I looked good, and if he wanted to kiss me, and if he thought the fact that I wanted to kiss him and touch him and do other stuff to him would make him think I was only doing it to rebel against my mom or if he understood that I'd always liked him, and would he even be interested in me like that.
"Just stuff," I said instead, my voice small.
Ashton opened his mouth to respond, but the inside of my car suddenly exploded with light. Before the confusion faded from my mind and the temporary white blindness had faded back to dark, thunder burst above us.
"What the fruck," I shrieked, jumping so suddenly that I nearly tumbled off the backseat. Without thinking, I grabbed Ashton to steady myself.
I don't know if he was thinking when he put an arm around me, or if it was just instinct, or if he felt the same spark that I did as his hand brushed against my breast unintentionally. I do know that my heart was racing so fast that I felt lightheaded, and that it wasn't entirely because of the sudden clap of thunder.
"Did; " he started, then stifled a laugh. "Did you just say what the 'fruck'?"
"Shut up," I muttered.
My face was burning and something in the back of my mind was screaming that I should pull myself away, that I shouldn't be pressed against Ashton in the back of my car. But he didn't let go of me, and I didn't move away from him, and when the next flash of lightning filled the sky, he was still holding me close.
"Probably going to start raining again," he said after thunder finished rumbling.
"Yeah," I agreed.
"Probably pretty hard," he said.
"Yeah."
"So if you want to go back inside; "
"Not really. Do you?" I asked.
"No."
The word hung between us and my heart stuttered, that light-headed feeling extending from my head to my limbs, a weightless anticipation that was foreign and nerve-wracking and electrifying. I had a vague idea of where I wanted things to go, and I was fairly certain that Ashton wanted things to go in that same direction, but I didn't know what to say next.
"Why don't we keep playing?" he asked gently a moment later.
Oh.
"Sure," I whispered, my voice deflated as I started to untangle myself from him.
His arms tightened. "But how 'bout we up the stakes?"
I stopped and looked up. Lightning chose that moment to flash again, revealing a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
I bit my lip, hardly able to contain my excitement. "What were you thinking?"
Still Losing.
Despite the added motivation, he still lost the next race.
"Damnit," he cursed.
"Off with the shirt," I said cheerfully as I leaned against the door.
We'd been smart enough to close the windows I'd cracked open before the rain started, so Ashton didn't seem to mind stripping off a layer considering how hot the inside of the car had gotten. Rain hammered against the roof of the car, a staccato soundtrack to the flashing glimpses of skin I got as lightning burst beyond the foggy windows.
I watched unabashedly, equally grateful that he had lost so I didn't have to be the first one to take my shirt off and that the light was bright enough for me to appreciate the lines of his body.
The rules were negotiated before we started. Clothing had to come off in order; no removing pieces that were under something else first. Shoes and socks didn't count, nor did jewelry. In order to make the other person remove a piece of clothing, you had to come in first; placing ahead of them wasn't cause for stripping. We took turns picking the course, regardless of who won. Most importantly, either of us could stop the game at any time, no questions asked.
"And if your mom comes outside and discovers me sitting half-naked in your car?" he had asked, the only moment he seemed to second-guess himself.
"She won't," I replied. "There's no way she'll come outside in this weather."
"But if she does?" he pressed.
"Once she's done yelling, I'll go down on you."
"Deal," he said without hesitation, and there was a long delay before we could start playing because I was laughing too hard.
Part of the laughter was nervousness; part of it was mortification that the words had actually left my lips; part of it was to cover the absolute thrill that rushed through me as I imagined looking up at Ashton just before taking him in my mouth.
My heart felt like it was hammering against my ribcage as I faked confidence and told him to pick the first track since I was certain I'd beat him anyway. Throughout the entire race, my breath was stuck in my throat, though it didn't stop me from trash-talking him when he missed hitting me with a red shell, and I only let it out when I finally crossed the finish line.
"Your turn," he said after putting his shirt on the rear shelf. "What course?"
I tore my eyes away reluctantly and studied the screen of my Switch.
"What'll it be, what'll it be," Ashton said as I contemplated. "Probably gonna play it safe, eh? Dry Desert? Toad Turnpike?"
"In your fruckin' dreams," I said. "No way am I going easy on you."
"Oh, not for my sake," he replied. "I mean, you don't want to throw your winning streak now, right? So you wouldn't pick something hard that might put you in a; precarious sort of position, would you?"
I glanced up at him. "Are you trying to goad me into picking a harder track?"
He blinked at me innocently. "Who, me?"
I snorted. "This coming from the guy who picked Mario Circuit. Can you get any more basic?"
"And yet, you weren't that far ahead of me. Starting to choke, Ramona?"
"If you want me to choke, you'll have to give me something bigger than thisI was dropping the charade and just getting naked.
A third part of me was insisting I needed to tell Ashton why I was nervous, to explain to him that I'd never been fully naked around anyone before, that I was a virgin, that I'd barely been kissed, let alone anything more. At the same time, a nagging voice in the back of my head that sounded suspiciously like the head of the homeowner's association said if I told him I was a virgin, he'd want to; well, he might like that more than I wanted him to.
Or he might not. Or he might not even want to go there. He might just want to fool around, or flirt, or; or I didn't know. What I did know was that, as nervous as I was, I wanted to be there more than I wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
As the stats showed on my screen, I swallowed and put my Switch down on the seat beside me.
"Final rule is still applicable," Ashton said gently as I wiped my hands on my jeans. "If you want to stop; "
"No way," I shot back. "I had to let you think there was at least a chance I'd lose a piece of clothing otherwise you'd quit before I got to see the whole package."
He grinned and leaned back against the door. "Whatever you say, Ramona."
I stuck my tongue out at him, which made him laugh, then hesitated as I tried to decide between taking off my pants or my shirt. He'd made the comment about hoping I was wearing cute panties, and for some reason, it felt less revealing to sit around in my underwear than it did to sit around in my bra, so I brought my shaking hands to the waistband of my jeans and unbuttoned them.
Removing my pants was awkward. Obviously, part of it was because of all the things that were making me thrilled and nervous. But, from a more practical perspective, we were in a dark, enclosed space surrounded by a raging thunderstorm. I forgot to take my Chucks off, so had to pause with my jeans around my knees to untie them before doing my best to wriggle my pants off the rest of the way without accidentally kicking Ashton. When I finally managed to get them off and onto the rear shelf, my face was bright red, though not from the heat in the car.
"I hate to ask," he said. "But the pattern on your underwear; is that; "
"Shut up," I said. "Yes."
He stifled a laugh. "I love it. Can I see; uh." He stopped, and I looked up to see his face reddening as he tore his eyes away. "That sounded super weird. Sorry."
I hesitated for half a heartbeat, then brought my hands to the hem of my t-shirt and lifted it slightly so he could see my panties more clearly. Ashton's eyes met mine and I saw his throat flex as he swallowed before his eyes flicked downward. For a long time, he stared, and I was starting to think it wasn't just at the pattern on my underwear.
"I didn't even know they made Dead pool-themed panties," he finally said.
"Why not?" I asked. "They capitalize on anything."
"Yeah, but how many people are seriously buying Dead pool panties that say 'show me your chimichanga' on them?"
"You have no idea how long it took me to find these."
His eyes flicked back up, meeting mine, and the next race was paused as we dissolved into laughter again.
I don't know whether it was an increased motivation on his part or distraction on mine, but the removal of my pants was apparently what he needed. He picked the next track, of course, and it was only sheer luck that I crossed the finish line seconds before he did.
"I did that on purpose," he said as he started unbuttoning his jeans. "I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable sitting around in your underwear by yourself."
"How chivalrous of you," I replied.
"I know, right?" He tugged his jeans down and despite my best efforts, I couldn't help trying to catch a glimpse as he removed them. "Now, it's only polite that you extend the same courtesy, so if you could go ahead and lose the next race; "
"Not a chance in hell," I said.
He laughed and said something else, but I completely missed it. I don't know what it was about Ashton in his boxers, but he was just; ugh. So ugh.
My panties were as geeky as I was, but his boxers were fairly plain. I couldn't really tell what color they were by the glow of the Switch screens; they weren't white, but maybe like a very light grey or green or blue. It didn't really matter, of course, since I wasn't looking at them for the color. I was looking at them for the way they clung to his thighs and sat on his hips, for the gentle V line on either side of his stomach that disappeared beneath the waistband. Mostly, I was looking at the bulge in the front. He filled out those boxers nicely.
I blamed the distraction of how good he looked in his boxers for my next loss, even though I had picked the track again. It wasn't quite so much of an upset that time, but it didn't matter; he came in first, and if you're not first, you're last.
He didn't say anything as I brought my hands to the hem of my shirt. I could feel his eyes on me as I lifted it, but I didn't look at him; a single moment might have been enough for me to lose my resolve. Instead, I swallowed, took a deep breath, and pulled it over my head.
Once it was off, I risked a glance at Ashton. I expected his eyes to be glued to my breasts, even though I still had my bra on. I mean, wasn't that kind of the point? He was putting on a show for me, I was putting on a show for him, and from my admittedly limited experience with men, I was fairly sure that a good percentage of them were pretty much obsessed with tits. And maybe Ashton was too, but I couldn't tell. He was looking at my face with eyes that were wide and earnest and appreciative in an almost wholesome sort of way.
That expression was everything. I couldn't quite say it banished my nerves, but it filled that spot deep in my stomach with a blooming warmth that made me very glad I still had my panties on, otherwise I would've had to find a way to clean my seats the next day. The way he looked at me; well.
It made me very glad that he was the person I was playing this game with.
He held my gaze as I put my shirt on the rear shelf, waiting until I was sure my collarbone was stained pink and my pulse was showing through my skin before finally allowing his eyes to trail down my body.
His throat flexed as he swallowed and his mouth opened just slightly. I could almost feel his gaze as his eyes moved down my neck and to my shoulders, and from my shoulders to my breasts. I let him stare, taking in the softness of my curves and gentle dip of my cleavage as it hinted at something hidden just beneath the pale blue fabric.
"There wasn't a matching bra," I finally said, almost apologetically.
His chuckle was almost dry. "This one's pretty frucking hot, though."
My laughter must have made my breasts jiggle or something. The light from our screens might have been dim, but it was bright enough that I could see the shadow of movement in the front of his boxers.
Definitely a good choice to keep my panties on.
"Rainbow Road," he said suddenly.
"What?"
Ashton's throat flexed again as he met my eye again. "Next track. Rainbow Road."
"You really want to show me your cock, eh?" I teased, grabbing my Switch.
"Sure, but you're gonna be showing me your tits first," he shot back.
"Big talker for someone who's only won two races."
"Yeah, well." His eyes twinkled as he smirked and pressed the button to start the race. "You have no idea how badly I want to see you naked."
The words sent a rush through me just as a drawn-out rumble of thunder filled the air. I gaped at him a second too long; by the time I recovered, I missed the window for a Turbo Start.
Ashton, on the other hand, didn't.
The idea of playing another round completely topless, knowing how hard Ashton would have to struggle to keep his eyes off my breasts and on his game, was more distracting than it was motivating. There was an aching sensation in my pelvis that was familiar yet completely brand new. I'd been horny before, obviously. I'd masturbated, I'd fooled around with guys, I knew what being turned on felt like, but I couldn't say that it had ever felt like that before. It was a gnawing sort of feeling, a hunger, a need for something to be inside me. Somehow, my body just knew it wanted to be filled, even though I'd never experienced it before.
It was the worst track to be distracted on. Rainbow Road was notoriously hard, that much was true, but realistically it wasn't the hardest, at least in my opinion. It did, however, require a level of attention that I was not capable of in my current state, and that much was obvious when I fell to fifth place. I gritted my teeth, trying not to think about the wetness between my legs or wonder why the idea of sitting topless in front of Ashton was filling me with as much excitement as it was nervousness.
One of the NPC racers passed me and I bit my lip. There was almost no chance I was going to win; but I didn't have to win.
I just needed Ashton not to come in first.
"Imagine if my mom came out right now," I said.
He chuckled but didn't say anything.
"She'd be so pissed," I continued, drifting around a curve. "But I bet you wouldn't even notice because you'd be too busy thinking about how I promised to go down on you if she yelled at you."
His chuckle was slightly strangled that time. "Didn't think you were one to play dirty."
"Who, me?" I asked innocently, hitting an Item Box. "What's so dirty about making you wonder what my boobs look like?"
"Joke's on you, I was already wondering that."
"Pale pink and really hard right now."
Lightning flashed and I saw him shift slightly. "What?"
"My nipples. You know, for your mental image."
He made a noise that was a groaning sort of cough. "That so?"
"Mm-hmm. And I'd totally take my bra off while I was going down on you."
"You know, if you were really trying to distract me, you wouldn't be phrasing it like that," he said firmly.
I frowned. "What?"
"You'd say you were gonna suck my cock or something. Like, for example, if I was going to pull this same dirty trick on you, I wouldn't just say I'd go down on you. I'd tell you that I'd bury my face in your cunny and let you pull my hair while I licked every single inch of you, making sure you were properly begging me to play with your clit before I even touched it."
I fell off the track.
"Asshole," I whispered as Lakitu dropped me back on the road.
"Yeah, I'd lick that if you wanted me to."
I was dead last and from what I could tell, he was firmly in first place. I rounded another curve, my panties as soaked as they would have been if I'd been standing outside in the storm. There was no chance, no way at all that I'd win, and save for a miracle, there was no way he wouldn't come in first. I swallowed hard, mentally preparing myself to strip in front of him, partly thrilled and partly terrified and entirely, completely, totally turned on.
Just as I resigned myself to my fate, something dimmed in the corner of my eye.
"What?" Ashton gasped. "What?"
I looked at him. Well, sort of. I looked at the spot he was sitting, which was far darker than it had been a few moments earlier when his Switch screen was lighting up his face.
"No," he breathed. "No way."
"Your Switch died?" I asked.
"But it's plugged in!"
I tried not to laugh at the devastation in his voice. I was about to tell him not to be sad, I would show him my tits anyway if he asked nicely and maybe took his boxers off, when I realized what that meant.
"Oh, no," I whispered, abandoning the race.
To be continued in part 3, Based on a post, by MsCherylTerra for Literotica.