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ChessChapter 3 free porn video
“How about every pawn that gets taken also gets to spend the night with the winner?”
They should have said no, but Woody’s prick was saying ‘yes, yes, yes!’ and Tina was happy to goad them both on. She was enjoying this – there was an erotic feeling to it; and there was the fact that John was going to get creamed by Woody. Of course he’d get to sleep with Mandy and ‘do stuff’, but, well, she’d never fancied Woody had she? Actually no, not until then. Now another girl might get him, she was re-thinking.
So the bet was on. Mandy and her set were less shocked than they should have been at being used as betting stakes like this, but Mandy assured them that there was no problem. What did she know? No, she was sworn to secrecy. The maths and science girls were less shocked than they might have been too. Firstly they knew Woody would win (though they were pissed that he was signing up to a competition where he got to fuck busty, sexy girls; even he was judging females by their flesh not their brains) and secondly they actually thought losing wouldn’t be so bad anyway if they got to be hammered by that hunk, John T. Jones.
Two days later Marcus dropped a newspaper in Woody’s lap. Marcus was the only real reporter in the group. He sensed a story and did the investigative reporter thing. He’d spent the days on line, in the reference library, talking to people. The newspaper was an old issue. On page three the story was “Town gets Regional Champion”. It went on to detail how Jake Jones had had easy victories to become regional chess champion all those years ago. Jack Jones was John T. Jones’ father. John had being playing chess for years. His knowledge of strategy on the football field, of dummy passes and fake moves, had stood him in good stead; he had suckered Woody into a chess match deliberately. It was Woody’s turn to shout “FUCKKK!!!!”
By this time, the pieces had been allocated, the teams were fixed. It was generally agreed by Marcus and Woody that telling their friends that it might not be quite the walkover they’d hoped wasn’t going to help anyone. The girls might have to give it up after all. Best not to worry them too much. John smiled at Woody at lunchtime that day. He was relishing the prospect of defeating the prick.
The news had gone round the school, everyone was quite excited by the prospect. Even the teachers thought this an excellent idea “Perhaps it could become an annual tradition” the Principal suggested. He might have been less keen if he knew the side-bet. Only the girls and some of the boys knew that side-bet. The girls had agreed with various degrees of enthusiasm. Some had been told they would do it by their boyfriends – for the ‘honour’ of the football team. Some had agreed on the assumption they would never need to deliver. Some hadn’t really listened to what the results might be...
Woody spent the week reading everything he could about chess. He’d played before of course; he played regularly with friends, but it was a relaxation, a cerebral celebration rather than a life-and-death struggle to win. This was different, he told himself, this could affect several of the girls in their club for life. He told himself the cost of losing was far greater than the prize of winning and that was the incentive, but he wasn’t being entirely honest. His dreams told more of the truth, when Mandy was kneeling before him and he and she were both stark naked and ... he woke up two nights in a row with a sticky, wet groin. Oh yes, the prospect of having Mandy for a night was definitely affecting his concentration.
Still, the weekend was approaching. And then it was here. Tape had been laid out in a grid, the girls and boys arrived, as agreed in sports gear or school uniform respectively. The castles, knights, bishops and kings and queens wore cardboard hats to show their rank. The game was nearly ready. But which was black and which white? They tossed for it, like any normal game on the pitch, but the stakes for this game were way higher than any game that had ever been played here before. The most that had been won before was a night with one cheerleader if a player was lucky. The winner this time was looking at a pot of gold – assuming he took some of his opponent’s pawns.
Woody won the toss and started by moving his King’s pawn forward two. John did the same. Woody moved his King’s knight forward 2 and one left. John looked contemptuous and replied almost immediately with a mirror image move for his Queen’s knight. Woody slid his King’s bishop diagonally across to threaten John’s knight.
“Really? Ruy Lopez? Is that the best you can do?” said John sneeringly and countered with the obvious riposte of pawn to a6. Woody felt deflated, he’d hoped John wasn’t that good, but clearly he knew the opening gambits by heart.
After this the game slowed, Woody was having to work at each move, he hadn’t the experience in depth that his opponent had. He felt his armpits starting to sweat. This was way more pressure than the Matholympiad. If he lost some of his friends would get fucked by John – Tina was actually now secretly rooting for John to win; she, and a couple of the others, were thinking that it might be good to give up that particular cherry to someone who knew what they were doing.
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