FICTION

THE GAMES THAT PEOPLE PLAY

Karen

I first noticed the look in my wife's eye when I got home Friday afternoon. Liz was full of mischief and original ideas always, but this was something special. We get along well, always, constantly have fun doing the same things, even kinky ones like the time we shaved all the hair off each other's bodies. That was one of the best ones, and we have kept it that way since as a weekly occasion to give each other a bath and a complete shave. We definitely belonged to each other, alone.

Lately, we had begun adapting the modern styles of dress and hair length, and mine reached nearly to my shoulders. Being both college seniors, we were allowed the academic and personal freedom that one needs for a truly free life. My wife had taken lately to playing silly games at all hours, such as sneaking up behind me and sticking bows or bobbie pins in my hair, once she braided it while I was watching TV and took some playful swipes at it with a razor. My reactions and swift move- ments convinced her that I had no desire to be Samson to her Delilah! I have really gotten to like the silky feeling of the hair brushing my ears and neck and it certainly is nice and warm in the cold months.

Well, anyway, this afternoon, with the whole weekend ahead of us, looked like my Waterloo. She acted coy and secretive all through dinner until I was just bursting with curiosity. Then it came out.

"I feel like playing games tonight," she said. "Let's play something, like cowboys and Indians!"

We chased each other around the house for about half an hour, wrestling, stripping each other's clothes off, and having a good old time. Toward the end she was only wearing panties, a bra, and a feather in