The chambers of the Fifth House at Boarbristle

"Go to the Polo Grounds tonight after supper," Dorothy says. "When practice is over, I'll meet you there. I know a place." She keeps her voice low as she does her best to whisper, her sweet onion-pie breath tickling your nostrils.

Dorothy straightens up and booms out in her normal voice, "So GOOD of you to come SEE me, Golondrina. But I'm sure you must be getting ALONG. Come AGAIN sometime!"

"I will!" you tell her.

Dorothy turns away. Her shaggy red hair bounces with her gait, as do her heavy buttocks, moving beneath the tail of her short tunic. As ever, Dorothy wears no lower garments. Though you have seen her in sandals, briefly, between bathing and returning home to her cottage. Dorothy's mode of undress is a stock butt of jokes amid the first-years, though none would dare utter it within the hearing of the Porter, whose size and strength compare not unfavorably with a horse, and whose care and kindness to Boarbristle's students is well-known.

Following Dorothy's instructions, you cover your House Leontes red-and-golds with a cloak, and head down to the Polo Grounds to watch your House's team practice. It's early in the season, so the team drills and scrimmages are still rough, but it's exciting to watch the broom-riding players swooping and diving, with the coaches alert should there be a collision or spill.

A few heads turn to look at you -- you haven't been to a practice before -- but they're more interested in their favorite players than who else is watching. Giggles and sighs come from some of the onlookers, and cutting remarks on sloppy technique from others.

You linger while practice wraps up. The onlookers trudge back toward Boarbristle, while the coaches huddle with the team members for an after-practice word. Two team members have brought their own brooms, and mount them to fly back, while the others walk back with the coaches, carrying bundles of team brooms and equipment.

And then you're alone in the dark. An owl calls. A cool breeze blows in from the direction of the Chilly Tarn.

"Golondrina, DEAR," Dorothy's voice comes from nearby.

"Ah!" you exclaim, startled.

"They've beaten the path down firm," Dorothy says. "With me FEET bare, I hardly make a SOUND."

You breathe in, taking in her scent of honest work-sweat. She's standing close enough that you feel the warmth of her bare legs.

"Let me CARRY you, DEAR," Dorothy says. "We'll be faster and quieter, and there's a HOLE or two to step over."

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"You know there are four houses at Boarbristle?" Dorothy says.

"Yes?" you ask.

"Once there were FIVE," she says. "THAT's where we're going."

"Is it safe?" you ask. "What happened?"

"It's quiet," Dorothy says. She bends her knees and sets down a basket she's carrying. "Don't know what happened. They had me MUCK it out for drainage. Empty now. I look IN now and then. Just empty. Now, UP, dear." Dorothy unbelts her tunic and reaches for you.

You ride under Dorothy's tunic, pressed against her belly and breasts, held in by her belt. Her great nipples swell as you rub against them, sliding with her rolling gait. The rhythmic motion and warmth of her body soon lull you into a doze.

You wake to Dorothy's broad fingers stroking your hair. "DEAR one, Golondrina," she says. "We're HERE."

From the lack of a breeze and a little ring in the sound of Dorothy's voice, it seems you're indoors, within walls. A large candle-lantern with a thick candle flickers on a stone floor to one side.

"Now I'll let you DOWN," she says. She unbelts her tunic and lets you slide down her belly, brushing over the thick wiry hairs of her bushy mound. It's cool, but both you and Dorothy have steady inner fires, and it's in no way uncomfortable. You expect Rebecca Honeybee or Peter Crisp would be shivering.

"I brought us a PICNIC," Dorothy says.

Dorothy's basket sits nearby upon a thick, broad mat you suppose might be one of Dorothy's bedcoverings.

"But I'm S'POSING you mostly want us to EAT each OTHER?" she adds.

"Yes," you say. Your mouth waters, remembering the taste of Dorothy's sex, rich and strong, salty and slippery on your tongue. "Yes, very much."

"Then I'll THANK you to off with your CLOAK and ROBES, and we can start STRAIGHTAWAY," she says. She moves the basket off to one side, then doffs her tunic.

"Ready?" you say.

Dorothy sits on the mat and lies back. "COME to me, DEAR one," she says.

⚁⚁ + 4 = 8.

When you HAVE SEX with Dorothy, on a 7-9 choose one: Your sex attracts hostile forces, monsters, or enemies of Boarbristle.

Gain +1 XP. Describe the scene to your or Dorothy's fulfillment, describe the lurking threat, then roll +BRAVERY (+2) (+3 Bravery, -1 CONSEQUENCE) to GET OUT OF DANGER.

You have 5 XP, -1 AMBITION, +3 BRAVERY, +1 CUNNING, and +0 DILIGENCE.

You have a CONSEQUENCE (Exhausted from Overwork), -1 to all MOVE rolls.