Email: rachelkramerbussel at


Lusty Lady

Watch me talk about my debut as an author, Sex & Cupcakes: A Juicy Collection of Essays, in this Q&A with my publisher Thought Catalog Books

Monday, August 08, 2011

Chess erotica/Naked Reader Book Club discusses G Is for Games

Tuesday night, August 9th, from 8 to 10 pm EST, the Naked Reader Book Club will discuss the Alison Tyler anthology G Is for Games, which includes my chess erotica story "Check, Mate." This URL is where the chat will actually take place.

Here's a snippet from my story "Check, Mate:"

Thinking about fucking him not only helps pump me up to win the game, it allows me to mask my true thoughts; I've never had much of a poker face, and have blown games when bursts of utter glee raced across my face, causing my opponent to revise their hastily drawn plans. The more he makes me wait, the more tempted I am to blow the game, fold my king in humiliation, sweep the pieces to the floor, and slam him against the wall. His slow manner seems to mock me, as if he feels none of the same urgency. In my befuddled state I drop my pen on the ground and when I bend down to pick it up, I really can’t help but look up at his erection. Oh, it’s there all right, silently straining against his jeans, thick and solid and all mine. At least, it will be once we get this damn game over with. I sit back up but still feel antsy, twiddling with the pen in my lap. His eyebrows twitch and he bites his lip as his eyes careen around from one side of the board to the next. Eventually I stand and stroll behind him, try to literally look at the board from his angle, from his side, but even so, I miss what he’s been plotting all along. It seems so obvious once I fall into his trap, but until then, I’m utterly confident in my moves.

I have no time to be shocked or fight back; his pieces have already entered my lair. I’m exposed just as surely as if I were strung up spread-eagled, my pussy open and vulnerable. That’s what I think about as I tremblingly move my king one short step away from doom. But he comes at me again, this time moving faster, pouncing. A quick glance at his face finds it smooth, unmarked by wrinkles as my heart pounds at this new development. The onlookers fade from my peripheral vision as we duke it out on the board. A glimmer of an exit path beams at me, but he squelches it in moments until my king stands naked, quivering, before I’m forced to surrender him to the obvious conclusion. Yet I don’t feel like I’ve lost; my brain is on fire, not to mention my pussy.

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