Dakota: It’s so difficult standing here, pretending I’m not melting for you, pretending I don’t want you to drag me to our Cove and do all the things you said you’d do in the game. I was so hot when I looked down and saw you were hard for me. I wanted to grab your big dick right then. And I wanted you to touch me, to feel how wet I am for you already.
I feel dangerous as I send it. An illicit thrill runs through me as Jack checks his phone. His whole body goes stiff, like he’s about to burst out of his expensive suit.
He looks up and finds me. His jaw tight as he shoots off a reply.
Jack: If you carry on, I’ll forget I’m supposed to be Mr. CEO and find some private place for us.
Dakota: Promises, promises…
Jack: Two can play at this game.
I laugh.
Dakota: Come at me, Mr. Cross.
I go to another booth, showing a preview of the underwater dungeon. A fellow streamer, GalaticGob—or Stuart, if we want to get governmental about it—curses and almost slams the keyboard. A man wearing a Halcyon t-shirt quickly rushes forward. “Easy there, buddy…”
“What’s up?” I ask.
Stuart waves a hand at the screen. “These solo dungeons are a joke. There’s no way to kite the secondary bossandtank the main boss, but you have to kite it, otherwise the boss aggros it anyway.”
“Can we get that in non-nerd speak?” Somebody says from the crowd, slurring their words.
“You have to keep moving,” I say. “So that the secondary boss can’t hit you. That’s what kiting means. If you ignore him, the main boss will get too close, and he’ll attack you anyway. That’s aggro. The problem is that the main boss has AoE—area of effect—attacks that you have to avoid too.”
The slurring guest looks disgusted. I know all this, which is a joke. Why come to an event like this if you don’t enjoy the game?
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and check it. Almost drop my champagne flute, which is nearly empty anyway.
Jack: Any second now, you’ll feel me walk up behind you. My solid dick slipping between the folds of your perfect ass. You’ll feel how badly I want to spill inside of you, or on those juicy tits, or fill up that perfect, kissable mouth.
I almost start panting. I have to put down my champagne flute and grab some water instead.
Dakota: Are you trying to kill me?
I send the message, then look around. He’s talking with two men, but he finds a moment to look at me and shoot off a wink.
I feel special, seen in a way that even my streams can’t accomplish.
I’m about to text back when I hear someone say,“Let Dakky try!”
I turn to find Stuart and two other streamers grinning at me. The Halcyon employee gestures to the computer setup.
“Remember, folks,” I say, snapping into streamer mode. It’s difficult with my underwear sticky and the lust pumping through my veins. But hey, I’m a pro. “I don’t usually have two glasses of champagne before hitting the dungeons!”
That gets a chuckle. I sit in the chair, then choose my character. For the test, they’ve given access to all high-level classes. I usually play as a spell-weaving healer, but I’ll have to be a tank for this, so I can take all the damage the bosses dish out.
I change some of the key bindings, then rotate my head and shake my arms out, feeling the faint flutter of adrenaline I still get when I start a solo dungeon.
“Who’s ready to see me die in two seconds flat?” I say self-deprecatingly, with a laugh.
I walk through the cave passage toward the glowing dungeon entrance. There are empty sections in the cave wall, showing the rushing water and sea creatures beyond.
“Nobody record this!” I joke. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
More laughter. It’s just like being on stream.
Except I’m praying that Jack makes good on his promise. Finds me, holds me, kisses me, and fucks me. I’m feeling fun and reckless and like, somehow, this gamer is going to make it out of the dungeon called life in one piece.
