Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

there and wait for a man to come save her? She doesn't need a man. Just help me come up with my own rescue plan." His ambition was cute but he really didn't get how the game worked.
    "Look, you can't escape. Just not possible; you don't have the right character skills for it. It will be a while before Cable rescues Sapphire. Jayne has some evil plan. She takes Game Master duties seriously, and kidnapping Sapphire was meant to be a distraction. She thinks I'll go save you before finishing the quest, but by the time you're rescued she'll already have done what she has planned. So I need to finish the quest and then go save you. And while I'm doing that, all you have to do is stay alive, so keep regenerating health." There it was, all laid out. He couldn't argue with that, right? I mean it was so obviously the only way to handle this situation.
    "That is a sucky plan. I have to just sit there and heal myself repeatedly while you're off having an adventure?"
    "Well, you can still belittle your captors, and try to wear them down to such a state of depression they'll release you because they can't handle your verbal onslaught any longer," I said with a little smile. I thought he'd like being able to sit there and toss insults until his voice turned hoarse.
    "That sounds more tolerable, but I still want to be out exploring, not tied to a cement slab in some lizard freak's sex dungeon." By 'exploring' he meant his obsessive need to have Sapphire pick every herb we saw and open every crate looking for unneeded treasure. Sometimes when I was playing, I'd picture Cable pushing the little gnome into the crate, closing it, and carrying it off. It would decrease the travel time not having to wait while Sapphire stopped every few squares to interact with her surroundings. Maybe if Cable had locked her in a crate the kidnappers wouldn't have found her and she wouldn't be messing up the quest.
    I was saved from having to respond to Zack by the arrival of our food. This was a good thing since I didn't know what to say. We were eating in silence when Zack randomly asked, "Want a fry?" I thought about it for a second. I mean I was eating two potatoes as it was, but the gesture seemed sweet. And wasn't sharing food supposed to be romantic?
    I nodded my head as he picked up a fry, dunked it in mayonnaise, and then shoved it in my mouth. I hate mayonnaise but couldn't spit it out since he was still pushing the fry in. I was expecting him to offer me his plate and let me grab it. He hadn't washed his hands for hours; at least I rubbed some sanitizer on mine right after we sat down. Not that I'm germ-phobic or anything. Hell, I'd lick every part of Zack except his hands or feet. Was that weird, 'feel free to choke me with your cock, but keep your fingers away from my lips?' I'll be the first to admit it makes no sense, but in my head I couldn't get over those fingers near my mouth. It was gross.
    It would be rude to grab his wrist and spit the food out, but I still considered it an option. I'm pretty sure he'd be repulsed if I spit the slightly chewed fry out and scrubbed my tongue clean on a napkin. The only thing I could do was get through it with the thought that if I survived this, later he'd hopefully stuff my mouth with his cock. I closed my lips tightly on the end of the fry; no way was I letting his fingers get inside my mouth. After I swallowed the last of the fry, I opened my eyes. Zack was grinning at me. I tried to smile back without parting my lips. It felt awkward, so I imagine I looked sick or something. If he said anything I'd say it was because he made my stomach flutter.
    "You have some mayo on your lips," he said, reaching out and brushing the corner of my mouth with his thumb. I almost gasped but managed to keep my lips closed. I turned my head and grabbed my napkin and quickly wiped at my face before downing my full glass of water. It didn't help the memory and the taste still lingered. I'd likely never forget this; my therapist would probably make me relive it for at least three sessions, the sadistic bitch.
    "Thanks," I mumbled, trying not to look queasy as I turned back to him. "Want some of my shake?" I asked, trying to be polite even though I was still trying to get over the mayo-assault on my taste buds. As first dates went, it could be worse. At least I'm pretty sure this was a date. At his nod, I passed him my almost empty milkshake. I almost had a spontaneous orgasm when he wrapped his full lips around the straw