Just a friendly game of cards (2013-14)

  

(another fantasy)

My best friend Bill and his girlfriend invite me over to play poker, only Bob, a mutual friend cops out, saying he has a date or something.

So, it’s just the three of us in their kitchen, and a lot more booze than any three people can possibly consume.

Bill is a horrible poker player – as he is with most games he plays, and he’s a sore loser, so when his girl friend and I win too often, he says he’s bored.

He’s also drunk, a sleepy kind of drunk, and his girlfriend tells him to get lie down n the bedroom and sleep it off.

“That leaves you and me, big boy,” she tells me, grinning across the table at me, her deep brown eyes laughing at something which I can’t quite make out. “Now, we’ll see which one of us has stamina.”

Where Bill stinks at poker, she is just the opposite and its not long before she has all my chips piled up in front of her.

“Well that ends that,” I say, sitting back feeling my head sway with too many drinks.

“We can still play,” she says.

“With what? You have all my money.”

“There’s other things we can play for.”

“Like what?”

“We can play strip poker,” she said, again with that look in her eyes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, uncomfortable, and squirming in my seat.

“Are you chicken?”

I’m just drunk enough to tell her I’m not.

“Then prove it.”

“All right, all right,” I say waving my hand. “Deal.”

She does, and while I don’t lose as badly as I did with the chips, I win just enough so that we are both naked.

“The game is over,” I tell her.

My head is spinning. I kept drinking when I should have stopped.

“Not quite,” she says.

“I don’t understand you.”

She laughs.

“I you win a hand, then I’ll have to do whatever you say,” she says.

“And if you win?”

“Then you have to do what I want.”

I’m drunk, but not so drunk as to miss the danger in all this. I’m already reacting to her across the table and I can only imagine how much worse it might get.

Fortunately, I win the first hand.

“See,” she says. “That wasn’t hard. What do you want?”

I ask for a kiss.

Her mouth twists in an expression of clear disappoint.

“That’s all?” she says.

“Yes.”

We kiss, she putting much more passion into it than I am.

Then, she wins.

“I want you to hold and kiss my tits,” she says.

“Wait a minute!” I say, pushing back my chair, holding my hands before me as if warding off a blow. “I never agreed to that.”

“You said you will do whatever I want if I win,” she said, defiantly. “I won. And I want you to hold and suck my tits.”

“But Bill my best friend and you’re his girl.”

“Are you going to do it or not?” she demands to know.

I’m too drunk to argue. So when she unbuttons her blouse, I come around the table, cup each of her breasts in my hands, and kiss one nipple, then the other.

“I said suck,” she says.

“Okay, okay,” I say and suck, tasting the sweet liquid that oozes out of each nipple.

She laughs and lets me get back to the cards.

She wins, and then tells me she want me to put my cock between her tits.

I hesitate, and tell her that’s going a bit too far.

Again, she calls me chicken.

“What about Bill?” I ask, indicating her boyfriend in the other room.

“He’s out for the night,” she says. “He wont know about it.”

“But I will,” I say.

She pours me another drunk.

“Are you doing to do it or not?” she asks.

“Where?”

“Over there,” she points to the couch.

We both go there. She sits, I stand, I unbuckle my pants and my already elevated cock plops out, drawing an even wider smile from her.

She holds her tits as I slide by cock between them and start to rub. She stares up at me, I am falling deeply into those deep pools she calls her eyes.

We move slowly, patiently, but I’m clearly reacting.

“Good boy,” she tells me. “Just don’t cum – yet.”

Then, back at the table, she deals the cards again. I win.

“Be brave,” she tells me. “ask me to do something risky.”

“Not another kiss?”

“No!” she says, scolding me.

“All right. I want you to lick my cock.”

“Only lick it?” she says. “Don’t you want me to suck you off.”

“Just kiss it,” I say.

She snarls, comes over to my seat, gets down on her knees and looks up at me as she holds my cock in her hands. “You’re sort of missing the point of our game.”

She kisses my cock and then takes it into my mouth anyway. I pull away.”

“Enough of that,” I say.

“Oh, all right,” she says, dealing yet another hand, which she wins, and she grins as if she’s just won the lottery.

“I want you to stick your cock inside me,” she says.

“I don’t want to go that far,” I tell her.

She pats my arm.

“I’m not asking you to fuck me, I just want to feel your cock inside me. Not deep. Just the head.”

Then again on the couch, I comply, feeling her soft pussy pressing against the tip of my cock.

“You’re so hard,” she says, moaning at the contact.

“I’m sorry,” I say.”

“Don’t be,” she says. “It’ll come in handy – later.”

“This has to stop,” I tell her, rolling back so that we are both seated side by side on the couch.

“Really? Aren’t you having any fun?”

“Too much,” I say.

“So it must be you don’t find me attractive.”

“I never said that,” I say. “I just don’t like where this is going.”

“It’s only a game,” she says. “If I don’t ask you to fuck me, can we still play?”

Confused more by my hormones than even the booze, I nod.

She deals cards on the couch cushions between us. I win again.

She looks straight at me, licking her already moist lips.

“Don’t cop out on me,” she says. “You need to ask me to do something interesting.”

“Like what?”

“Like with my pussy,” she says.

“You said you wouldn’t ask me to fuck.”

“Use your finger. That wouldn’t fucking.”

Somewhere in the middle of all this I have another drink. I am not thinking clearly, So, when she spreads her legs, I reach down to touch her pussy, my fingers playing with each pedal before finding the magic button that causes her to jerk up.

“Yes!” she yelps. “More.”

I rub the button harder, circling it with the tip of you forefinger, feeling her button get harder and her whole body convulse.

“More!” she moans.

“What else is there?”

“Stick your finger in me,” she said, breathless.

I ease my finger into her went opening, the soft interior giving away before it as I try to reach deeper, to that other button of pleasure I know is somewhere far inside.

“Fuck me with your finger,” she whispers.

“We said we weren’t going to fuck,” I say.

“It’s your finger, not your dick.”

I’m inebriated enough to believer and rhythmaticly push my finger in and eased it out, faster, yet not fast enough for her.

“More fingers,” she says.

I stick two fingers into her fuck her with them, in and out, her back arching at the contact, as she pushes her hips up so as to make my fingers go as deep as possible with each thrust.

Just when she’s on the cusp of coming, I stop.

“We cant be doing this.” I say. my fingers soaked with her juices, and I’m tempted to lick them, keep from doing it.

I get up off the couch.

“It’s about time I went home,” I tell, glancing around to try and locate my clothing which I abandoned during heat of it all.

“The game’s not over yet,” she says, holding up the deck of cards.

‘What else can we play for?” I ask.

“Play and find out,” she says, giving me a devious smile. Her face is flushed, and there is something frustrated in her gaze, as if she needs to finish something we started, and expects me to finish it with her.

Again, on the couch, she deals and then when she wins, she reaches into the drawer of the small end table and comes out with a tube of lubricant.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“My ass, naturally,” she says. “You have to stick your cock in my ass and will need lubricant.”

“But…”

“Fucking me in the ass is not fucking,” she says. “Just do it.”

I squeeze the gel into the palm of my hand and spread if over my cock, it soothing and cool, and when I look over at her, she’s already positioned herself to receive me, her ass elevated as I ease my cock into her hole ever so slowly – only the head at first, and when she says, “keep going,” the rest of my cock, deep as her muscles contract around me, as tight around me as a closed fist, making it harder to penetrate, and yet I manage it, in and out, in and out, faster and faster, as she moans with each thrust.

“Fuck me harder,” she says.

I speed up. I’m pounding her hard, the sound of flesh smacking flesh with each stroke.

“Don’t cum,” she says.

“I’m not sure I can help it,” I say, feeling it mounting up inside me, as if I am a volcano ready to erupt.

“Then put your cock in my pussy,” she says.

“We said we would not fuck.”

“Listen, honey,” she say. “You just fucked my ass, fingered fucked me and sucked my tits. You might as well go all the way now.”

So, I eased by cock out of her ass and into her pussy, from behind, doggie style, ramming it hard and fast, making her nearly scream with pleasure, then I roll her over and shove my cock up between her legs, hard, deep, with a surprising desperation I was unaware of, the need for her I must have felt building up in me for a long time, a desire for more than just the smile and warm handshakes she gives me as her boyfriend’s best friend.

“I can’t feel enough of you,” she says. “Let me ride you!”

I roll over onto my back, she climbs onto of me, pushing her pussy down onto my cock, riding slowly at first, then with a passion I can barely keep up with.

She is ruthless as if she owns me, going faster and harder, she is out breath, moaning too loudly, scaring me into think this will wake Bill and hell discover us.

“Hold still,” she says, then turns around, back to my face, as she mounts me again and starts the whole thing all over again.

“I’m gonna cum” I tell her. “Let me get out of you.”

“NO! Do it in me.”

“But…”

“You lost the game. Do what you’re told.”

She cums first, then I do, and we fall aside, breathless, and the guilt pours back into me.

“What’s Bill going to say when he finds out,” I mumble.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she says.

“We should tell him,” I say.

“If we do, we’ll never get to play cards again.”

“But…”

“Just shut up,” she says as she gets up. “Let me clean up.”

But before she goes off, she bends and licks the remaining cum off my cock.

“Now, get dressed,” she tells me. “I’ll wake him up so he can say good night.”

 

 

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