The Book of Firsts

Forty-Seven

"I feel your hair’s looking longer," Rin murmured, when we met at the garden gate.

"It grows a little faster than average," I told him, once we were safely inside. "And a lot of the things I like to eat are good for healthy hair growth."

"Oh? What things?"

"Nuts, avocado, sweet potato, berries. Things with a good vitamin load are usually helpful."

"How very clean-living of you, Cheshire. Did you at least wallow in chocolate yesterday?"

I laughed. "Lania gave me some of a box she received from someone called Antoni, who is a freshman. He wrote her the most outrageous poem, stanza after stanza to make sure she knows that she has amazing breasts. She was mortified, but the chocolate was good. Cherry liqueurs. We giggled at every one we ate."

Rin raised his eyebrows. "Admirably suggestive. Perhaps one day I’ll steal the, ah, allusion."

"I was wondering if Kyou would manage to steal the first at this challenge from you," I said, putting down my backpack.

"He tried his utmost, but luck was against him," Rin said, sitting down and eyeing my tight-clad legs with open pleasure. "He even tried to get inside my head and sabotage my enjoyment."

"How so?" I asked, accepting a cup of green tea.

Rin made a shooing gesture, as if to swat away a fly. "It pains me to partially concede his point, but I know you well enough by now to see that it would be very easy to go wrong today."

"Simon Says that you’re probably right about that," I said, amused. "At least, you’re not going to score highly simply by enjoying yourself telling me what to do."

"I wonder," Rin said, thoughtfully. "To a certain point, I think it would entertain you to indulge me." His lips curled into a predatory arc. "Of course, this is only one challenge among many. I think there’s a lot to be said for accepting a loss."

I snorted. "Well, we’ll see how good an idea that is."

"Should I find the line, in order to decide whether to cross it?"

"Me making suggestions probably goes against the spirit of competition," I said. "Do you want traditional Simon Says rules, or do you just want me to do anything you say?"

"I just want you to do everything I say," Rin said. "Without quibbling or poor attempts at humour. Start by making a new pot of tea."

That was a mild enough beginning, so I collected the tea things onto their tray and headed for the summer house.

"When you return, I want you to be dressed more appropriately," Rin added, as if I’d worn ripped jeans to a black-tie event.

Without quibbling or poor attempts at humour meant I couldn’t tell him I’d forgotten my maid’s outfit, so I held my tongue and continued into the small building. Then I stripped while the water boiled, leaving only the white with blue flowers underwear set that I tried to remember to wear whenever I knew there was a chance of Rin. The weather, while not bitter, wasn’t exactly panties-in-the-garden warm, either, so I chose a ginger tea, and enjoyed the pure pleasure in his eyes while I slowly walked back.

Since he watched without speaking, I simply set the tray on the table and sat down. The metal café chair had a mild chill, but at least wasn’t icy.

"I enjoyed the performance last week," I said, as he poured. "The original song was unexpectedly good."

"I set up a meeting for Saskia and Camila with someone I know in the industry. A little fine tuning and the song could take off."

"Given the popularity of videos of that performance, I think you’re right. Though, of course, there weren’t many who focused their cameras on the singer."

"You did."

I must have looked startled, because Rin reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, navigated a few pages and then passed it to me.

"Kyou filmed me?" I said, discovering an angled view of my face from behind.

"So he could show us your reaction. You can see the focus of your camera occasionally."

"Well, I made sure I got a good recording of the whole band," I said, smiling. "I try not to have too much about you three on my phone."

Rin played with his cup, then emptied it. "Bran’s set us up so that if someone grabs our unlocked phones, they’re not going to be able to browse certain locations easily. Though we’ve decided we have to resist keeping anything too compromising, much as I would like to film you now."

"Pictures last long enough to get careless, after all," I said. "And given how quickly you three got Tomas' passwords, I’m feeling far less secure about my own."

"Let’s not talk about Tomas today. Take the tea things back inside, Cheshire, and bring out two blankets."

This was easily accomplished, though I began to wonder if Rin really would deck me out in a maid’s uniform when we got to the fantasy costume round. I placed the folded blankets on the café table and looked at him with interest, curious as to where he’d go next.

"Strip me."

It had to be said that Rin, dropping his voice a note lower, deepening that light French accent, could rival Kyou in the sexy voice stakes. Or maybe it was just the anticipation in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. After a moment’s thought, I moved my chair over to use as a clothes-stand, and then began methodically from the top.

Even though we’d stripped each other on multiple occasions, it still felt extraordinary to peel layers off him, and reveal his lean and graceful body. Rin clearly found the whole thing as stimulating as the first time I’d done it: his champagne eyes were almost entirely black, and his breath grew increasingly audible.

He stood when it was time for me to work on his pants, and spread one of the blankets over his chair before sitting down again. I folded the last of his clothing onto the chair and looked at him enquiringly.

"Take off the underpants."

Since he didn’t mention my bra, I left it on, and deposited the panties on top of his clothes.

"Come over here."

I was barely an arm’s length away, but walked forward obediently until my knees were almost touching his. Glancing briefly at his truly impressive erection, I tilted my head.

"Turn around."

I had to admit that I was getting into this, even though the commands were unremarkable. Turning, I stood gazing at the summer house, and wondering when he was going to touch me. For a long pause he did nothing at all, and even though I knew he was deliberately drawing out tension, I still caught my breath, just a little, when he ran a finger up my spine.

This movement stopped when he reached my bra. He lifted the strap an inch or so, then let it go.

"Sit down."

I hesitated, then very tentatively began to obey, since his lap was currently not in a state for just sitting. A light touch on my hip guided me, and he had hold of himself, correcting our alignment. He was, of course, his own generously sized self, and I had a little more trouble than usual making myself relax. But it felt very pleasant going down.

Rin wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest, and for a few moments we both just breathed.

"I don’t know why this feels so good," I said at last.

He leaned his head forward, so his cheek was pressed against my ear. "I’m going to take that as a compliment, rather than a comment on previous performance."

In this position, I could not only enjoy the sound of his voice, but I could feel it through the contact with his chest. The only issue I could see was that it would be considerably more effort for me to move up and down. Lacking orders, I held off on trying, and closed my eyes and breathed through his careful touches of my chest through my bra.

"Take it off," he murmured.

I reached around and unhooked, managed to neatly toss the bra onto the clothes-stand chair, and then waited with interest to see what he’d say next. This was a completely different experience than I’d expected from the Simon Says challenge, but I was appreciating it enormously.

He slid his hands down to cover mine, then shifted them so that my hands were on top of his.

"Touch yourself with me," he said.

This was only momentarily confusing, and then I hooked my fingers down between his and lifted his hands, admiring them. Long, slender, neatly manicured. I brushed the left gently across my stomach, and shivered at the faint roughness of musician’s calluses. I slid his other hand along my arm, paused to take a breath, and then floated between dreamy exploration and an impatience to move on him. But he solved this dilemma himself, pulling his right hand free from my grip and dropping it down to explore between my thighs, and move there with considerable purpose. Soon I was clutching his other hand in both of mine, biting my lip to keep back any noise, and bracing my back against his chest.

Once he’d reduced me to a puddle, Rin freed one hand to spread the second blanket on the table, then murmured: "Hold on."

I didn’t really need to, but still clutched his arm as he lifted me and rose, repositioning us smoothly so that I was tilted over the table. It was a far from graceful position, but more convenient for Rin to abandon some of his restraint.

"Sore?" Rin asked, settling me into his lap afterwards.

"Not yet," I said, then slid my arms around him, and rested my cheek against his shoulder. Rin stroked my back pleasantly, and further deepened my relaxed mood, making me want to just sit for a while, but a light cloud cover had arrived, and I started to shiver.

"I’m glad the sunlight lasted until now," Rin said, reaching for the blanket on the table. "Without it…well, let’s go in."

We relocated, and Rin made another pot of tea, set his phone to play a violin piece, and then curled up with me on the couch.

"Do you really have fifteen guitars?" I asked, snuggling against him.

"Next week I will have sixteen guitars. There’s a custom Gibson 335 that I can’t resist."

I laughed. "Are they your favourite instrument? Or do you have twenty-one drum kits as well?"

"Violin is my favourite, which is why I made it the one I officially play. I’m drawn toward strings, am weak in brass, and percussion is my indulgence."

"From now on I shall picture you letting loose on the bongos."

"You may laugh, but I do have some bongos. Two tabla. A pandeiro. Two different drum kits—one electric."

"Do they all fit in this secret office? You’re going to end up needing a warehouse."

"It shouldn’t be a problem next year—we’ve located what could become the perfect combination of office and residence. Currently a failed dance studio, with excellent large rooms that we can use for mo-cap and other activities. We’re hoping to sign off on the purchase this week."

This made me smile. "So, if you tell your parents you’ve bought a dance studio, do you think they would be relieved when it turned out to be for game development?"

"Sadly, I doubt I could convince my parents that I was interested in dance."

"You could be supporting Bran’s ambition to win a competitive tango tournament."

He shook his head. "I suspect my parents would consider traditional dance superior to game development. But anything outside medicine or business administration is going to disappoint them."

"Are they passionate about medicine?"

"They’re the kind of people who would devote their lives—or my life—to curing cancer, but would make sure to have a significant stake selling the cure. Setting the price to fair, which means returning the kind of profit that, while not so high it provokes public shaming, matches the achievement."

"What about you?" I asked, after digesting this. "Where would you set the price, after curing cancer?"

"Hm." He paused in toying with my hair, and lay back to consider the ceiling for a few moments. "I, too, would ensure a profit for myself. But I think I might err closer to the side of affordable to the masses. I hope I would, at any rate. Those are the kind of decisions that you can’t truly take credit for until you’ve made them irrevocably."

"You’ve a cynical view of yourself," I said, in a tone of compliment.

"I have to live down to your estimation of me, after all," he said.

Then he threw away words in favour of action. For this much-anticipated Simons Says challenge, he spent hardly any time ordering me about. It was only much later, after he had let me out through the fence, that my thoughts returned to Rin’s view of himself, and I wondered what my impression of him would have been if our first encounter hadn’t involved him agreeing that every second girl in the school would have sex with him.

Even though that was probably true.