We spent the afternoon rolling up characters, one oppressively hot summer afternoon, five of us crowded around a rough plywood table in a space hollowed out from the cardboard boxes and defunct appliances that crowded my parent’s basement. I was the oldest one there, by a good seven years.
I didn’t really feel like being there, but I didn’t really have anywhere better to be. Mom had been badgering me to start taking classes at the local community college, but so far I hadn’t done anything about that. I still had the same crappy job I’d picked up my senior year of high school, delivering pizzas. My twenty-fifth birthday was approaching, barreling down on me like an oncoming logging truck in the wrong lane. Where had it all gone wrong? All my friends had gotten real jobs or gone off to university and moved away. I felt like the troll who lives under the bridge: old, cranky, and getting covered in moss.
Judith had the D&D bug in a bad way. She’d inherited all my books and dice and miniature figures, and she had invited all three of her dweeby high school friends over: Amy, Ben, and Heather; honors students every one, prancing merrily into their senior year with bright eyes and great expectations. Judith had begged me to play too; and out of the spirit of brotherly cooperation, and because Amy was pretty cute, and because I was bored, I agreed.
The character I rolled had a fifteen strength and a seventeen dexterity, but was sadly low on wisdom, and the rest of her stats were all average. I made my character a female Halfling fighter/thief, and on a whim I named her Rosie.
The rest of the session was spent outfitting (Rosie got leather armor, a short sword and sling, along with the requisite thieves’ picks and tools); once supplied, the newly-formed adventuring party ventured out of the small provincial village where we had all met up in an inn, and hit the road in search of adventure.
We had just enough time that afternoon to find a little adventure, in the form of a small and poorly-armed group of brigands, just across the river under the eaves of the Wild Wood. A short, but scrappy fight netted us a few silver and copper pieces, not enough to cover the cost of outfitting, but a start; and a treasure map that depicted a goblin-infested cave not far away.
It was getting late, and I had to get on the road and deliver some ‘za, so our characters made camp along the side of the road, and we all agreed to play again the following week.
I hated to admit it, even to myself, but it had been a blast. When I told Judith, she laughed and gave me a hug. “I never see you smile anymore, Big Brother. It’s nice to see you relax and have a little fun.” I always felt a little weird getting hugged by Judith, ever since she had developed breasts.
It had been fun. D&D was kids stuff, part of my dorky juvenile past. I was an old man now, a legal drinker, and I thought I was supposed to be past all that. It had been years since I had played, and I had forgotten how much fun it really was, how you could really get lost in another, fictional world, where magic was real, and the worst you had to worry about were marauding monsters and trapped treasure chests, and minimum entry-level jobs and security deposits and university applications weren’t even part of the vocabulary. I could hardly wait for the game next week.
The next time we got together, we raided the goblins’ underground lair, fighting it out, cave by cave. There was subterranean combat, tricks, trap, and treasure. We played all afternoon and through the evening, and I called my manager (who had been our high school quarterback for one largely unsuccessful season) and wrangled us a free pizza for dinner.
I discovered that I actually liked Judith’s friends, despite the fact that they were a motley trio of high school dorks; academic overachievers who listened to classical music and were close onto a decade younger than me.
By the time we had defeated the evil goblins, it was dark out, and my eyeballs hurt from staring at graph paper in low light for so many hours. Rosie, my Halfling fighter/thief, had taken a nasty wound in an ill-advised attempt to backstab the Great Goblin; but Carla, Heather’s female wizard zapped him with a magic missile, and Rosie’s wound wasn’t anything Titania, our elf-druid (played by Amy; I imagined the character was fetchingly pale and lithe just like her player) couldn’t patch up with a few ‘cure light wounds’ spells. Rosie landed a magic short sword out of the loot. All in all a good day, for all concerned.
Rosie came to visit me that night in my bedroom. I suppose I should have been out at a bar, trying to meet girls, but I was pretty broke, and I’ve honestly never had any luck meeting girls out. Especially in bars. So I had watched some TV, read a little, and I was just trying to decide whether or not I had the energy in me to masturbate before I went to sleep; lanky, hyper-smart teenage Amy and her baggy jeans and loose-fitting t-shirt kept sneaking into the back of my mind; pudgy, cuddly, bitingly funny Heather kept intruding into my erotic meanderings; and Judith’s friend Ben (who played a ranger) kept fidgeting into the back of my mind; and Judith herself kept bugging me, just on the fringes of my overactive sexual imagination.
Rosie slipped silently into the room, opening and shutting my squeaky bedroom door behind her without so much as a creak.
“Well met,” she said with what I can only describe as a shy smirk.
“Well met indeed”, I replied, too startled to come up with anything more creative.
Rosie didn’t look very much the way I had pictured her, which I guess shouldn’t have surprised me. She was short, of course, if I had been standing next to her, the top of her head would have just about reached my belly button. She had an unruly mass of frizzy reddish-brown hair, and mischievous hazel eyes. Her features were kind of rough and her complexion was ruddy. Her eyes seemed like they were set slightly too far apart in her head. She looked sort of like a rustic doll, a farm girl whose face had been carved out of a turnip. After all, she only had an 8 charisma.
“Nice work today,” she said, padding quietly across the room and climbing up onto the bed next to me. She was wearing a stiff leather jerkin, and loose fitting pants. She wore no shoes, and her broad feet were covered in soft, curly hair, the same color as the hair on her head. “I got a little carried away, trying to sneak up on the Great Goblin like that. I do that… I’m a little impetuous sometimes.” She reached over and stroked my hair.
I was naked under the sheets, and as soon as she touched me, my cock jumped. I wasn’t used to having any girl sit next to me when I lay naked in bed; especially not hobbit girls who were supposed to be strictly figments of my imagination.
“You’re a good player,” she said, still stroking my hair, “You know I’m already second level, right? Of course you know that! I think we’re going to go far together.”
“I’ve never had a female Halfling character before,” I said, “So far I’ve really enjoyed it.”
“Well, I think you’re going to enjoy it a lot more,” Rosie said. She giggled, a high-pitched, stuttering giggle. “I’m being awfully forward, aren’t I? It’s that impetuousness again… I guess that’s what you get for having a low wisdom. But I’m not actually all that experienced.”
“Neither am I,” I said. She had stopped playing with my hair, and was now gently rubbing my neck. Under the sheets, my cock was twitching into a full-on erection.
“Really?” she said, stopping mid-massage. “I guess I’m surprised. You’re so much older, and you’re good-looking. But I guess we always think our players are more experienced than we are. Do you mind if I take off my leather armor? It’s kind of constricting.”
She was wearing a soft white linen blouse under her leathers. It didn’t exactly show off her body, but it did make her look much more soft and cuddly. She snuggled up against me.
“Is this ok?” she asked, stroking one finger up and down my bare sternum. I didn’t object, and her face came closer and closer to mine, and then we were kissing.
I’d only ever dated a few girls, and it had been a long while since I had kissed anyone. It felt really nice. Her lips were soft and warm, and as soon as they met mine, insatiable. She pressed hard against me, slipping her tongue into my mouth. I fell into her, kissing her back, losing myself into her mouth. She took my hand in hers and guided it to her breast. Her boob was small and firm, like a ripe peach, and felt nice in my hand. I squeezed, and she pressed back against me.
“Am I going too fast?” her hand slipped under the sheet, deft as any pickpocket, “Stop me if I am… Holy Cow!” Her small, clever hand found my erection. “Holy Cow!” she repeated, “By the hair on Cyrrollalee’s toes, that thing is huge!!”
It was the first (and last, so far) time that my equipment had been called ‘huge’. It’s not. Not that I’ve had any complaints; but my dick isn’t particularly big. As far as I can tell, I’m pretty much average, as far as size goes.
“Wow! There’s a lot of you going on down there!” Rosie was stroking my dick now, and it felt amazing. Her hand felt totally different from my own. I was the only one who had touched my cock in rather a long time. Her grip was soft, and yet really strong. The girl was ripped, she had forearms like tree trunks. A fifteen strength is nothing to be sneezed at; she could have beat me at arm wrestling any day of the week. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that thing… I may have to go down there and have a closer look.”
She peeled back the sheets, exposing my nakedness. Again, that high-pitched, nervous giggle. “Very nice!” she said, “Very nice indeed!”
Rosie took the opportunity to rid herself of her own vestments; the linen blouse and pantaloons fell on the floor. She had a taut, if squat and stocky, little body. The same curly brown hair that graced her feet blossomed between her legs and under her armpits. Her breasts were smallish, but perky, pointing outward in slightly different directions.
She climbed back onto my bed, on all fours, her little conical boobs hanging down. Grinning, she nudged my thighs apart, squatted comfortably between my legs, slowly tracing her stubby fingers up and down the length of my aching erection.
“I’m not sure that’s all going to fit inside… I’m going to have to work my way up to that.” My cock was harder than hard, straining up to meet her stroking finger. A long, clear strand of sticky pre-come oozed out of the purple head, attaching itself to my stomach. A flick of her tongue broke the strand.
“Could you…?” I stammered, “Would you… please…?”
Rosie grinned. “Suck you off? I was just waiting for you to ask… I’m not evil after all.”
One hand carefully cupped my floppy, sensitive balls, while the other wrapped around my shaft in a steely grip, pumping purposefully up and down. She opened up her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of my cock, which was so turned-on and sensitive by now that the touch of her hot tongue made me quake and buck.
It didn’t last very long. I was too far-gone already, and she was too skilled. Before I could even think to try and stop it, I was humping up off the bed, fucking at her face, trying to get more of my cock between her lips. She stayed with me as I came, gasping and gurgling and blissfully pumping semen into her hungry mouth as she pumped all the come out of my dick with her strong little hand.
Finally, I collapsed onto her bed, and she released my tired dick. She smiled up at me, licking her lips.
“Was that ok,” she asked, “I told you I’m not very experienced.”
“That was amazing!” I managed to gasp.
“Well thank you!” she said, climbing off the bed and starting to pull on her clothing. “I enjoyed that very much. I’m glad you did too.”
She was strapping on her leather armor. I didn’t know what to say. She tweaked my nose and kissed me on the forehead. “You guys are playing again next Thursday, right? I’ll see you there!”
And then she was gone, like a thief in the night.
I couldn’t wait for our next D&D session. I was antsy about it all week, simmering with impatience. It was a good session, too. After clearing out the last of the goblin caves, we made our way back to town, where we cashed in our treasure and purchased new supplies. Then it was back to adventuring. We had our first run-in with the minions of what would turn out to be our arch-nemesis, the Scarlet Mage. It turns out that Judith had designed an interesting and well-crafted campaign, not just a series of dungeon-crawls. She had put a lot of work into all this.
Somehow, I don’t know how she managed it, but somehow Rosie kept playing with my dick under the table. She started out just petting me through my jeans, until I discretely unzipped my fly and set my poor, straining erection free.
The rest of the afternoon, whenever she wasn’t actually in combat or picking a lock or disarming a trap or whatever, Rosie had her strong, dexterous little hand wrapped around my cock, slowly and methodically jerking me off. She never brought me anywhere close to coming. She had no intention of doing that. She was just teasing me, keeping me hard, frustrated, and horny. For later.
Finally the game wrapped up, the dice and figurines were put away, the undrunk soda refrigerated, and the uneaten Fritos closed up. I tucked my obnoxiously hard cock back inside my pants. Judith and her teenage friends were going out to Denny’s, and asked me along, but I declined. Hoping my hard-on wasn’t making too obvious of a bulge in my jeans, I retreated to my room.
I probably should have gone to Denny’s with the kids. My dick was painfully hard, and I was twitchingly horny, but I didn’t want to waste it by jerking off. I compromised by trying to read a book and sort of stroking myself at the same time.
I don’t know how long she was standing there watching. I looked up, and there she was, a big fat smirk across her oblong hobbit face.
“Are you having a lovely evening?” she asked, “Were you waiting for someone?”
I watched, speechless, as she unbuckled her short sword, peeled off her leather armor and under-linens, and clambered up on the bed to sit next to me. My dick felt hot and heavy.
“Did I do a good job last time? I don’t have a lot of experience, but I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
“No,” I assured you, “it was fantastic!”
We lay side by side and kissed for a little while. Her furry toes kept tickling my erection. I liked the way her little body felt, her boobs pressed up against my chest. I liked the way she kissed.
Finally she broke off the kiss. “I liked playing with your big fat dick during the game today. It was very distracting though… I know I blew at least one ability check, and it’s all your fault.”
My ‘big fat’ dick was tremblingly hard, red and engorged, and leaking copiously out the swollen crown. Rosie had the situation well in hand.
“I got you off last time,” she said, “don’t you think it’s my turn to get a little action?”
I could hardly disagree.
She crawled up the bed and straddled my face, her thick, meaty thighs to either side of my head. Her plump, furry hobbit pussy was just inches from my mouth. Her folds pouted hungrily open. The smell of her sex was sharp and earthy, like a freshly plowed field. She was shockingly wet. Her pussy was literally drooling down onto my face.
I stuck out my tongue and craned my neck, carefully tracing her slit with the outstretched tip of my tongue. Her taste was strong, feminine, a little salty, not unpleasant, but deeply intoxicating. She sighed out loud, spreading herself wider open for me and lowering herself down so that she could rub her sopping wet pussy and bulging little clit on my tongue.
I don’t know how long I ate her. Time seemed irrelevant. I wallowed in her slippery folds, pressing my tongue against the slick button of her clit, straining to slide my tongue as far up her entrance as I could physically manage. I licked her until the wetness rolled down my cheeks and my tongue cramped up. Sometimes I couldn’t breathe. I even dared to slip my tongue up between her butt cheeks, tickling the dark region around her anus. The sounds she made were encouraging, and never let up, but I never seemed to be able to push her across that final threshold into orgasm.
At long, long last she rolled off me, panting with frustrated exasperation. I just lay there, gasping, trying to catch my breath. My cock was still hard, obnoxiously hard.
“Cyrrollalee! By Lolth, you’re good at that! What level cunninglingist did you say you were anyway?! Oh sweet Cyrrollalee, I need to come so bad I can taste it!”
With no further ado, she climbed back on to me, pressing her hot, wet pussy against my erection, which lay flat against my tummy, the head nestling into my navel. Her folds enveloped my shaft and she started grinding back and forth on me, pinching and pulling her own nipples cruelly as she worked.
She quickly got more and more excited, rocking faster and faster and harder and harder, her breath coming in sharp little gasps. I was right there with her. As her panting turned into a long, drawn-out squeal, and her furry toes curled and her breasts flushed livid pink, I humped hard back up against her, lifting us both up off the sheets, and with a throaty moan, my balls twitched, and I shot off, all over my stomach and chest, a veritable lake of pearly white semen.
“No reason to let that go to waste,” Rosie said; and she proceeded to lick the come up off my torso like a cat licking milk up out of a saucer. “I should get going,” she said when she was done, “It’s Titania’s watch, and I’m supposed to relieve her at midnight.”
“Next time I see you,” she said just before she slipped out the door, “I am going to fuck your little brains out.”
I jerked off a lot that week. I jerked off at work, in between pizza deliveries; I jerked off at night and in the shower and in the morning when I woke up. I mostly jerked off to Rosie and her fuzzy pussy and pert little breasts; but I was sort of indiscriminant, indulging myself. I imagined fucking Amy’s druid character; I pictured watching Rosie eat out Carla, Heather’s female wizard; I don’t consider myself bisexual really, but I pictured myself fucking around with Beren, Ben’s ranger, the only male character in the party. I wondered if he had a pretty big dick. I even whacked off thinking about getting it on with Judith, my own sister. Who was pretty hot, when it came right down to it.
The next D&D session was a dungeon crawl through one of the Scarlet Mage’s outpost castles. Rosie was kept pretty busy, out front with Beren, on the lookout for tricks and traps, of which there were many; and we were almost constantly in melee, battling orcs and bugbears and hobgoblins, as well as sinister apprentice magicians, occasional undead, hired thugs, and the less conventional but equally deadly clockwork knights that the Scarlet Mage was fabricating and winding up to conquer the world with. Even so, from time to time Rosie found an opportunity to stick her hand between my legs and cop a feel. She did that often enough to keep me hard through the entire session. Matters were complicated by the fact that Rubenesque Heather, who was sitting next to me on my left; and pale, skinny Amy, who was sitting immediately to my right, kept brushing up against me and pressing their knees against mine. I wasn’t sure it was on purpose, but I wasn’t sure it was entirely accidental either. And Judith, behind her DM’s screen, had her shirt unbuttoned at least one button too many, and I kept unsuccessfully trying to determine whether or not she was wearing a bra.
After the game, everybody hung out for a while. I had arranged my work schedule so I didn’t have to deliver ‘za on D&D nights. College applications had started to trickle back in, and these kids being smart geeks and overachievers, they were almost uniformly acceptance letters. They were all talking about which school they would decide to go to; our D&D game was going to be scattered across the fifty states in a fairly short time. I guess I’d always know that, but it made me a little sad to think of it.
I felt kind of weird socially, kind of left out. These were my sister’s friends, a bunch of dweeby kids almost ten years younger than me, with bright futures ahead of them. And yet they had become my friends too. I was going to miss them, when they all went away to school. I hoped I wouldn’t still be delivering pizzas by then. I made up my mind to swing by the community college and pick up an application. Maybe I could start taking some classes.
When Rosie came up to my room that night, I was ready. I had a box of condoms, I had lube, I had a cheap bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Never mind about those,” Rosie said, indicating the condoms, “I had Titania cast a spell on me, so I can’t get pregnant. She’s a really good kisser by the way. But I will take some of this…” she gulped a big swallow of red wine, “…and this.” She squirted a large quantity of lube onto her hairy pussy.
I guess I’d expected a little more foreplay, a little more warm-up. Rosie lay down on top of me, kissing me, letting the wine dribble into my own mouth, squishing her little breasts against my chest as she maneuvered my erection toward her sopping wet, slippery little entrance.
We tried really hard. We tried a bunch of different positions. We tried until it hurt. I tried fingering her first, but I could really only get one finger inside before she winced and pulled away. It just wasn’t happening.
We eventually got off together, with me kneeling between her stout thighs, pressing the head of my cock against her engorged labia, jerking off into her pussy while she furiously rubbed her clit. Even if we were both a little disappointed that we hadn’t gotten to actually fuck, it was pretty freaking hot.
We tried again the next week, and the week after that. Some things, however, are just not meant to be. Apparently Halfling and human parts just aren’t compatible; I guess that explains why there aren’t any ‘Three-Quarterlings’.
We tried anal sex, with much the same results. We discovered that (once I learned to be exceedingly gentle) keeping the head of my cock pressed firmly against her asshole and bathed in lube, was an incredibly pleasurable thing for both of us: I would reach around and finger her juicy little pussy while my cock squished and squashed between her butt cheeks, and we would both end up coming like nineteenth-level-fireballs.
But no penetration. It was frustrating until we accepted the situation for what it was and stopped trying. Rosie confessed to me that the two Halfling guys she’d been with had penises the size of my little finger, or slightly smaller. She talked (jokingly, I think) about having Carla, the party’s wizard, cast a reducing spell on my penis. In the meantime, there were other things to do than fuck.
She taught me to go down on her just the way she liked; after much practice I was able to make her come on my face. The technique involved carefully inserting a finger in her asshole; slipping one finger up her pussy and making beckoning motions, while I flicked at her clit with the tip of my tongue. The first time I hit on that combination, it drove her wild; I thought her orgasm would wake up the entire household, and when I finally came up for air, flushed and sticky, she hugged me tight and kissed me all over my come-coated face.
Rosie, in turn, got really, really good at sucking my cock. She got so that she could make me come in under a minute, or keep me balanced precariously on the edge for literally hours. We got pretty kinky, kinkier than I’d ever gotten with a human girl. Rosie proved devilishly good at tying me up, and she loved to stick her slippery, stubby fingers up my butt and pinch my nipples and masturbate on top of me until I was straining at my bonds and literally begging her to touch my dick. I was happier, happier by far, than I’d ever been in my life.
During the assault on one of the Scarlet Mage’s outposts, a castle/clockworks factory, Heather’s wizard character, Carla, was killed. Already wounded in combat with dungeon nasties, she got hit by a lightning bolt in the final battle with the Scarlet Mage himself (who turned tail and disappeared in the end, teleporting away from his workshop before we could claim final victory). She was at something like negative fifteen hit points, and there was nothing our druid could do. We all offered Heather our condolences, and she rolled up a new character, another wizard. It sort of didn’t matter, because it was May, and the school year was wrapping up, everybody was getting ready to graduate and go off to their college of choice. It felt like a sad and solemn event.
That night, up in my room after our orgasms, Rosie was uncharacteristically cuddly. Usually she was pretty quick about making herself scarce after we’d both gotten off. This time though, she lay with me for a while, and we spooned together, and I played with her thick, curly hair and listened to her breathe.
“You know,” she said to me, “we’re not afraid of dying. Death isn’t that bad for us, it’s part of the job description. We don’t really die, you know, because we were never really alive. We live in your imaginations, and after death we continue to live there. Do you know what really scares us though?”
“What?” I asked.
“Being forgotten. Being filed away in a dusty stack of paper, left unfinished, never to be played again. The unfinished campaign, the books and maps left to moulder in the attic. That is the saddest thing I can think of.”
I thought about Harley, the first D&D character I ever played, a feisty gnome fighter. The fame had petered out before he made third level. I hadn’t thought of him in years.
“Promise me something,” Rosie said, “Promise me that you won’t ever forget me.”
The downfall of the Scarlet Mage was epic. The attack on his final stronghold took three full sessions, and the Mage and his minions and machinations fought for every square of grid. His fortress was laden with tricks and traps, and when the party prevailed, the Scarlet Mage backed into a corner in the highest tower of his clockwork castle, we were down to our very last spells and hit points. Fortunately so was he, and in the end, the forces of good (or at least neutral-good) prevailed.
It was Rosie’s impetuous nature that did her in. The final combat had occurred in the Scarlet Mage’s treasure room. After he fell dead, pierced by swords, arrows, and magic missiles, before she could get so much as a ‘cure light wounds’, she went straight for his treasure chest.
It was, of course, trapped. There was a dormant fireball spell on the lock, and the whole table groaned as she blew her saving throw. The blast killed her instantly, sending her deeply into negative hit-point territory.
There was silence all around the table. Finally Judith said “I’m sorry. Do you want to do that roll over?”
I didn’t know what to say. I shook my head ‘no’. Rules are, after all, rules. There wasn’t any point in rolling up a new character; this was to be our group’s final gaming session anyway. Despite myself, I felt my eyes welling up with tears. I got up from the table and went for a little walk while the rest of the party rested and healed, and divvied up the loot.
Amy came and found me first, up in my room. She was really sweet, and we sat on my bed and talked for a while. I told her I’d miss her when she went away to school. She smiled, and said she didn’t actually leave until mid-August. And then we ended up making out quite a lot. She was a really good kisser, utterly different from the way Rosie kissed. She reminded me of a wild bird: intelligent, frail, energetic; and her kisses fluttered like the wings of a sparrow. Nothing too sexual happened that night, but we made plans to get together again soon.
The rest of the gang was still hanging out down in the basement, polishing off the rest of the Doritos and Diet Coke. Ben made a pass at me; at least I was pretty sure he did. I’m not used to getting hit on, especially not by guys, but the way he stood really close to me and asked if I’d like to get together with him, sometime soon, over at his house while his parents’ were out of town made me feel distinctly hit on. I dumbly nodded, agreeing to his nervous suggestion. I’ve never thought of myself as being in any way bi, but the fact was Ben was cute, and I found myself attracted to him, and wondering just what was going on inside those lanky khakis he habitually wore.
After the rest of the kids had left, Judith gave me a big hug. Her big breasts squooshed pleasantly against my chest. “I’m sorry about Rosie,” she said, “I know how much she meant to you.”
“That’s ok,” I told her, hugging her back, “That’s the way the dice roll… She was an awesome character though. I’ll never forget her.”
Judith kept holding on to me, tight, and her hand slid down my back, cupping my butt and squeezing, pulling my crotch close against hers.
‘Oh my God’, I remember thinking, ‘Where is this going to take us?’
Judith’s boobs felt really good pressed against my chest, and her butt was soft and round and squeezable, but nothing really ended up happening, except for one hot and humid night in July, when we double-teamed Heather. There was a little touching and kissing that night, but both of us were focused on pleasuring Heather, and the two of us didn’t do anything strictly incestuous together, a fact that I remembered with relief and regret over the years.
I had a lot of sex that summer; with Amy, who liked it rough, so rough that sometimes it scared me a little; with Heather, who was jolly and horny and kinky and insatiable; with Ben, who was sweet and just as inexperienced as me; I even had a very brief fling with Ron, my manager; and another thing with a lonely married woman named Kay who ordered pizzas alone on Friday nights and gave amazing tips and even better head.
I held on to my job delivering pizza for another year, but I did start taking classes at the local community college that fall: economics, statistics, and creative writing. I applied to the state university, and I hooked up with a D&D group at the college.
My new character was a female human Paladin named Belinda. She was a good character, but I never felt like we had much of a rapport: she seemed like a bit of a prude. I never had another character like Rosie. I never forgot her.