Note … there have been computer issues this week. Here's hoping they are resolved by next week. The usual disclaimers apply. Kevan sends her love and her thanks to you all!
06 If Handcuffs Could Talk
By Marilyn (Ranger Hunters) and Kevan
Uploaded by Alfonsina.d
The Game Begins (Mary Lou)
It was just two minutes after ten o'clock on Saturday night when I knocked on Steph's door and she opened it to let me into her apartment.
"Okay, Steph, so what's the plan?" I mean, I like my best friend, but hanging out at her apartment for 'girls' night out' wasn't my idea of fun. In the week since she'd sworn she had the perfect plan, she hadn't told any of us what it was, saying she would take care of everything, and assuring us we would love it.
"Not until everybody gets here." Steph's eyes sparkled and her expression was one I recognized. It was the one I usually saw just before she got us in trouble.
I was saved from considering that too deeply by the arrival of Connie and Lula. Neither of them looked any more impressed than I did.
"Tell me you got us a limo comin' and we going somewhere, white girl. Cause I ain't hangin out here all night." Lula was eyeing the apartment with what could best be described as disfavor.
A knock on the door announced Kat's arrival.
"Okay, ladies, step this way." Steph gestured toward the area next to the kitchen that contained her dining table, a hand-me-down from some relative that would look right at home in a fussy old lady's parlor.
There were five bottles of tequila, a bowl of lime wedges, a container of salt, and a set of handcuffs in the middle of the table. Five chairs with a tablet of paper, pencils, and a shot glass in front of each one. There were two large flat-screens, set behind the chairs, across from each other.
Okaaaay…
"You've all heard of Build-A-Bear, right?"
Connie groaned. "Don't tell me—"
"No, no!" Steph cut her off. "But you know how it works, right? You get to pick each piece to put together your perfect bear, like you can pick this arm and that coat and that color fur and those eyes. Right?"
"Yeah," Kat sounded cautious. She didn't know us all that well yet and was probably trying to think of an excuse to leave.
"We ain't buildin' no bear!" Lula stated, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Nope!" Steph giggled. "We're going to play a game called Build-the-Ultimate-RangeMan. And for our inventory of possible body parts to choose from—" She tapped a button on a remote control and the flat-screens turned on and—
Omigod! It was video of the day Ranger and his men had stripped outside the Driftwood Apartments building. And it wasn't just one video. She'd gotten several of them and put them together and added zoomed images and had them playing in a loop. To say it was hot was an understatement.
Lula plopped down in a chair—hard—her mouth hanging open. Connie's eyes were wide, and her mouth was hanging open too. Kat looked like she was debating between cuts of prime rib, and was hungry.
Steph was grinning like a maniac, holding up the remote like a master of ceremonies with a baton.
"Here's how this works," she announced. "First we decide what body parts we're going to use to build our perfect male body RangeMan-style and make a list. Each body part on the list is a category. Then we're going to vote on which guy has the best body part in each category, like which of the guys has the best buns. And by best, I mean—"
"Sexiest!" we all chorused together.
"And if we need a closer look, to help us decide," Steph paused the video and zoomed in. A close-up of one of the guy's asses filled the screen. It was toned, taut, and perfect. Damn! Steph could have warned me to bring extra panties. I mean, I'm a married woman and I love Lenny and I'm not going to have sex with another man, but a woman can look can't she? And drool? And lust? Drooling and lusting are allowed, right?
"What about the tequila?" Kat asked.
"Every time we pick the winner in a category, we each get a shot, and we take turns making a toast to the body part that won."
"Damn skippy! I'm likin the sound of this!" Lula slapped a hand on the table "How 'bout a shot to get us started?"
"Only one until we get the list made," Steph cautioned. "We don't want to get so drunk we miss a body part."
"Oh no, definitely not," Connie agreed, still staring raptly at the ass filling the screens.
"Okay ladies," Steph poured out five shots and raised her shot glass. "Let the quest for the perfect Rangeman begin!"
xoxoxox
"No," Connie said firmly, shaking her head. "Hands cannot be on the list. Granted they can be sexy if a man knows what to do with them—which damn few men do—but we don't know that about all the guys. We'd have to know about all of them before we could pick a winner."
"That's a good point," I said. "How about we amend the rules and limit the list to body parts that we can judge equally for each guy. You can see all the guys biceps, so we can compare those fairly, so it's a good one for the list."
"I agree, Mary Lou," Kat said, "Personally, I would put voice on the list. For me, a guy that has a really sexy bedroom voice and knows enough to whisper naughty things in your ear is a big turn on, but we can't evaluate that about all the guys. Not that I would be averse to volunteering to find out about a couple of them. Purely for research for the game, of course."
Connie snorted. "Uh-huh. Got the guys picked out?"
Kat smiled, a cat-ate-the-canary smile. "Maybe."
"Okay, Kat, spill," Steph demanded.
"Nope, not nearly drunk enough." She refused to say another word on the subject.
"Okay, so are we agreed on the rule change?" Steph asked.
Everyone raised their hand.
"So," she looked down at the list in front of her. "Hands are out." She crossed it off the list. "Voice is out." Another cross off. "Cock…hmmm."
"You cannot be serious!"
"You shittin' me, white girl?"
Steph picked up the remote and forwarded to the part where Breeze took off his pants. She froze the picture and zoomed in. We'd spent quite a bit of time looking at that picture. We knew exactly where in the video it was.
It was worth looking at. Breeze has toned 8-pack abs above slim, muscular hips. There is not a trace of hair except on his head, although whether that is a gift of nature or whether he removed it was impossible to tell. He has a dragon tattoo on his left hip that runs down his thigh and wraps around to the back of his calf. And his cock was a work of art. It should be in a museum. Long and thick, with a perfectly shaped head. Some guys get a lot larger when they get hard; some don't. Even if Breeze was one of those that didn't, if they made a dildo based on his cock, it would be listed as porn-star large. And he was pierced, the small silver balls clearly visible at the head and on the underside of his cock.
"That," Connie breathed reverently, "is a work of art."
We all agreed.
And we agreed that as magnificent as Breeze's cock was, we had to take cocks off the list because we hadn't seen all the other guys' and so couldn't do a full comparison.
It was sad. It hurt. But it was the right thing to do.
We toasted the rule change with another shot.
Eventually, we came up with the list:
Category 1 – legs
Category 2 – eyes
Category 3 – lips
Category 4 – hair
Category 5 – biceps
Category 6 – chest
Category 7 – abs
Category 8 – ass
We toasted the completion of the list with another shot.
xoxoxoxox
I won category one. Well, maybe not won, but the guy I picked was the eventual winner. It took some convincing, especially of Kat who didn't want to vote for her brother and Steph who was holding out for Ranger, but in the end I convinced most of them that Mal had the best legs. So, we voted Mal the winner of category one.
I poured everyone a shot of tequila and raised my glass. "Hot Legs," I sang to the tune of the old Rod Stewart song.
"Hear, hear!"
Everyone threw back the shot and grabbed for a lime.
xoxoxox
"It's the eyelashes," Connie said dreamily. "Have you ever seen eyelashes like that?"
We were all staring at a close-up of Lester's face. Water was sparkling in his hair and his eyes were half-closed. His eyelashes—his impossibly long, thick eyelashes—fringed his eyes, giving them a dreamy, bedroom-ready look.
"I would kill for eyelashes like that," Kat stated.
"Honey, what woman wouldn't?" I asked.
We voted Lester best eyes, winner of category two.
Connie poured the shots and lifted her glass. "To our category two winner, who makes me wish I owned a panty factory cause mine need changing."
We all giggled.
"Cheers!"
Everyone threw back the shot and grabbed for a lime.
xoxoxox
"But you don't like fruit, Steph! How can you say that's sexy?" I complained.
"Mary Lou, if you ever see Az eat fruit, you would not ask that question. It's not what he eats—well it is a little—it's how he eats it. He and Rav both do that same thing, but Az is much sexier doing it."
"How 'bout some detail, white girl?"
Steph grabbed the remote and froze the video on a close-up of Az's face. He was looking at something intently and his lips were parted, as if he was going to speak.
"Look at that and listen, ladies. Imagine he's got a bowl of fresh fruit in one hand and the other hand, with its long, strong fingers, picks up a slice of that fruit. Those lips part then wrap around the fruit. They move when he chews and swallows. His tongue licks the juice off those lips. And those sinful lips are wrapping around another piece of fruit and then they're plundering your body and wrapping around your—"
"Damn girl, enough!" Connie was fanning herself. "He can wrap those lips around any of my body parts anytime."
Kat had a satisfied smile and a dreamy look in her eyes. "Oh, eating sexily is definitely an art form."
Hmmm, Kat definitely had a secret but before I could pursue it, she had filled everyone's glass and raised hers.
"To Az, whose sexy category three just made me soak my panties."
Everyone threw back the shot and grabbed for a lime.
Then Steph had an idea. "That's brilliant Kat! Instead of saying the body part, we use the category."
We were all looped enough by that time that we agreed it was brilliant. No more saying the body part allowed; categories only.
And we voted ourselves a bonus shot for the rule change.
xoxoxox
"But his category four isn't even loose!" Kat protested.
"Mmmmm," Steph licked her lips. "Just imagine if it was. Imagine all of that category four loose and silky and all over your body while…" Her eyes clouded over as she watched the video of Rav stripping out of his pants.
"What about Az," I suggested.
"That man is fine. No doubt," Lula said. "But his category four ain't gonna beat Rav's. Just ain't."
Sigh. Lula was right. When you talked about sexy hair, none of the other guys were going to beat Rav. Even if none of us had seen his hair unbraided, when a man has thick, dark hair that—even braided—reached his lower back, there is no way another guy is going to beat him in category four. Not when that braid is as thick as your wrist. No way. That is just way too much silky hair to be beat.
"Yeah," Connie echoed my thoughts. "Not gonna beat that category four."
"Nope."
"Done then! Category four to Rav." Steph filled our shot glasses and lifted hers. "To Rav, master of category four and the inspiration for fantasies the world over."
Everyone threw back the shot and grabbed for a lime.
Kat sighed. "You know that's the only thing I wish Bobby had more of."
"What!?" Lula shrieked. "Bobby?" She forwarded through the video to a picture of Bobby stripping out of his shirt. "That Bobby?" She pointed at the screen.
Kat smiled and nodded. "Yep."
Connie shut her mouth with a snap. "Just what did you do with Bobby and how did it happen?"
Kat smirked. "I got him up to my room with my own version of how to eat sexy and…" Her eyes got dreamy and she sighed.
"And!?" Steph and I screamed together. "What!?"
"And then we had wild monkey sex all night long." Kat propped her elbows on the table, chin on hands, and smiled dreamily.
There was a moment of silence.
"Damn skippy!"
"You go girl!"
"How good is he?" Connie asked.
"Well," Kat paused, "good enough that I handcuffed him to my bed to keep him from getting away."
I know I asked this earlier, but drooling and lusting are allowed, right? And soaked panties. Soaked panties are definitely allowed, right?