Innocent Milf Ch 12

Chapter 12

Ty cleared his throat. "You'll all need to sign this waiver that states you're over 18--for obvious reasons. But there's something else you should know. We have staff hired from a private source that will be helping to make sure that the games all run smoothly. They're consummate professionals, and know not to get involved unless they see a safety risk. But keep in mind that you're being watched, and there are security cameras all over this house." Ty made a sour face. "Don't worry--the security tapes are private and nothing will leave these walls. But you can see how this could be a legal issue."

Some of us were looking less certain after this sober warning. I trusted Ty, and I was pretty sure that his parents wouldn't be looking through any of the tapes unless something disastrous happened. In a way, it also made me feel better--even though I wasn't thrilled by the idea of some random stranger watching me grope another college girl, I thought it was less likely that some jerk would get too grabby with Cary against her wishes if there were cameras all around us.

After some low discussion, we all trundled to the front to sign our names on photocopies of a waiver filled with paragraphs of legal jargon. Then Ty waved us guys back over and gestured to a bowler hat on the table next to him.

"Agents, please reach into Oddjob's hat here and pull out a piece of paper. On one side is your assignment. On the other side is part of the secret nuclear launch code that you are trying to retrieve. If you get all the pieces of the code and assemble them according to the information in the dossier, you win. If your partner does the same, you both win the

grand

prize. Which is a secret."

This was how Ty and I had become friends. No matter how much he liked to occasionally cultivate his rich playboy persona in public, he turned into a real nerd about details when he got interested in something. Long hours playing complicated tactical boardgames in the basement of his old house suddenly sprang to mind. I had known that this party was important to him, but this really revealed just

how

invested he was.

Cary flounced back over to me and grabbed my wrist unexpectedly. I blinked. "What's up?"

"Come with me," she said without preamble, pulling me into a corner. A couple of the other guys gave us eyebrows as we went.

Off in the corner and barely less obvious there than in the rest of the room, Cary grabbed my head and pulled me in to kiss her. Surprised but pleased, I returned the kiss and pulled her close to me. To my further surprise, she pressed her hips and thighs against me, grinding lightly. I kissed her deeper and ran my hands up her back, feeling her shiver as my fingertips crossed over from sequined fabric to smooth skin.

She pulled away first and gazed into my eyes, her expression suddenly a mixture of hesitance and urgency. She wet her lips and then grabbed my hands, pulling them up to her breasts. "Touch me," she said. Less than an order, more than a request. I didn't need to be asked twice, even if I was a little embarrassed to be fondling her in front of a bunch of other people.

I squeezed, feeling the soft give of her beneath my eager hands. My thumbs ran lightly over her, and I could feel that she was wearing something underneath her dress more substantial than just a push-up bra. She let a little moan escape, barely audible. After a moment, she pulled my hands around to her bottom, where I gladly caressed buttocks made firm by hours at the gym and hiking up and down rocky slopes. She pushed against me further, and then took one hand and guided it down in between her legs.

I leaned back, raising an eyebrow. She nodded, but looked at the floor shyly.

"I... I just wanted you to be first tonight," she said. "I get the feeling that by the end of the evening, things will be getting a little grabby. I didn't want anybody else touching me before you got a chance. And I don't want you to think that anything is going to really happen--there's no prize in the world worth losing your trust."

I kissed her again. "You're wonderful," I said. "And I'm really looking forward to later this evening." I had already decided that the moment I felt things had gone too far, I'd march Cary to the nearest bedroom and fuck her silly. Better that than let another guy horn in on my new girlfriend. I might have been fighting my horny teenage instincts to give her some space, but I was still eighteen. My ego could only take so much.

She surprised me once more by dropping her own hand down to my crotch and lightly grasping me through my trousers. Predictably, I hardened and Cary's teasing smile emerged like the moon from behind clouds. She leaned forward once more and pushed her chest against mine. "And this is so that I get here before any of those other girls," she smirked. "I

know

they've been looking at you."

With that, she turned and half-skipped away--a feat I found particularly impressive in her spiky heels. She joined the rest of the ladies as they left the room ahead of us, each of them holding a piece of paper like ours. Some of them looked excited. Others looked pensive--as if they were trying to work out a plan.

A brown-haired guy elbowed me as I returned in a mild daze. "Man, if you can walk straight after that, you're made of tougher stuff than me. She must be pretty hot for later on." I nodded, surprised again by how forward everybody here was about sex.

To be polite, I jutted my chin towards the sea of retreating backs and bottoms swathed in colorful cocktail dresses. "Which one is your girlfriend?"

"Tiffany. The smokin' redhead in green." He smiled. "Think you've got a shot?"

I shrugged as Ty chattered a little bit at us about Soviet agents. I wasn't here to ruin anybody else's relationship, either. Although that certainly wouldn't stop me from a little innocent groping and leering. After a few more moments of letting my thoughts wander, my attention turned back to my piece of paper.

Your codename: Steele.

Your mission: find your contact at the Casino. They will play the Queen of Hearts three games in a row. You will counter-sign by playing the Knave of Clubs twice in a row.

2325-AA1-072

"Okay, let's get to it," Ty said. "We're headed to room 14--the casino for tonight. We'll only be in there for a little while because the regular guests will be using it later. You have your assignments."

We filed down the hallway after Ty, trying to look suave in our tuxedos. Some of us pulled it off--Miles looked just like Timothy Dalton. Some of us didn't--one of the guys was clearly a little too short for the length of the jacket. I hoped I fell more towards the Miles end of things than not. I was suddenly glad that I had started working out more seriously a few months ago.

It was a ballroom--what sort of mansion had an actual ballroom? I dimly recalled that this mansion had been built by one of the city founders from the 1800's before Ty's dad had bought it. I guess that explained it. One half of the ballroom was set up with several tables in green felt and dealers wearing short red vests. The ladies had already arrived and been seated at three of the tables. Incongruous coat racks had been positioned nearby. Cary was deep in conversation with the other gals at her table, her brow furrowed in concentration. She held up a few of her cards to them, they smiled encouragingly.

The dealers pointed to each of us individually and waved us over to their tables. I didn't get called to Cary's table, but I was positioned right across so that I had a good view of her. She looked nervous, excited, and--to my eyes--stunningly gorgeous. Judging by the way her new tablemates watched her every move, they agreed with me.

It was just four of us at my table--Roy and Stacy's departure had evidently disrupted the even distribution of couples across three groups. The dealer picked up two place cards labeled

Agent Poling

and

Frisky Amore

and cleared them from the vacant seats. Me, Carla, a tall, freckled redhead in green who introduced herself as Tiff, and a guy not particularly any handsomer than me named Dan all smiled at one another before falling into character.

"Ladies and gents," the dealer began, "the game is five-card stud, no wild cards. Lowest hand loses an article of clothing. All losses are persistent until all poker games have finished. If you fold, you automatically lose an article of clothing. Remember your assignments. Questions?" We shook our heads silently. It made sense now--the game had been set up to make us lose a lot of clothes while still making it possible for us to play the appropriate number of cards to find our contact.

For the first few rounds I concentrated on just not being the lowest hand, and waiting for one of the girls to play the Queen of Hearts. I took the time to study them, as if I were a real spy--looking for changes in their facial expressions, nervous movement, anything that might tell me if they had a good hand or not. I noticed that when Dan had a good hand, he got really calm and quiet. Every time Carla got what turned out to be a winning hand, she tapped her toes lightly. Tiff looked mildly anxious no matter what the quality of her hand was.

I had already lost my cummerbund and bow tie, which had been hung up obligingly on the heretofore mysterious coat rack. Dan was in similar straits. Carla had taken off her shoes and a tiny strip of leather that served as a belt. Tiff had already shed her shoes, shawl, and stockings when she finally won a hand with two pair--one of which included the Queen of Hearts.

I glanced over Carla's shoulder to see that Cary had pulled off a single glove and was draping it over the arms of a nearby coat rack. She looked pretty confident--engaged. Cary always got this way when she played a game. Even when she was having fun--especially when she was having fun--she got really competitive. I was so focused on her that I nearly missed Carla playing a Queen of Hearts in her next hand.

The girls kept having to fold hand after hand in order to avoid playing cards that would invalidate their assignment to play a certain number of specific cards in a row, and the rounds went pretty quickly. They got pretty creative with what they gave up until at last it became obvious that the next round either one lost or folded would bring them down to their underwear. Not for the first time, I breathed a sigh of relief that strip poker seemed to heavily weighted in the guys' favor in this context. Behind Carla, I noted that Cary was biting her lip and frowning. She chose to fold, and I heard some hooting and cheering as she stripped off a silk stocking and hung it on the coat rack next to her gloves and shoes.

Carla played a second Queen of Hearts, looking pleased with herself. She quickly scanned Dan's and my faces, both of which were carefully impassive. Tiff turned a bit pale, but straightened her shoulders stoically as she folded. The dealer arched an expectant eyebrow; I pulled off my jacket as the lowest played hand, and Tiff stood up and wiggled out of her green dress. As it slid down over her bra and hips, I felt a little stirring in my groin. She was no Cary, but I was 18 and she was still a cute girl stripping down in front of me.

Her blush spread throughout most of her body as Dan and I politely golf-clapped. Carla looked pleased as punch. Tiff's boobs were bigger than I would have guessed, and her cleavage was dusted with freckles. I tried not to stare.

After a few more hands, Dan and I were down to our undershirts, socks, and trousers. Clapping from other tables alerted us that more and more of the Dolls were getting down to the point of losing skirts, tops, and dresses. Cary still had hers on, but it didn't look like she had much margin for error.

Carla got a third Queen of Hearts on the board, with a little triumphant smile. However, she still had the lowest hand, and stood without complaint to wriggle out of her black sequined dress. Beneath it she was wearing lacy black push-up bra and panties, shot through with metallic thread here and there.

As luck would have it, my next hand brought me a Jack of Spades, which I played immediately despite it literally losing me my shirt. Carla's eyebrows went up. Dan, in the meantime, was shifting his gaze intently back and forth between Carla and Tiff, apparently still looking for the sign he had been instructed to look for.

Behind Carla, I saw Cary stand up. She made eye contact with me, shrugged uncertainly, and unzipped the back of her red dress. Her table cheered as it spooled to the floor like liquid; she was in a corset and garter belt, the straps of which dangled uselessly since her stockings had already been discarded. The corset explained the stiffer texture beneath her dress I had felt before. And speaking of stiff, my boner could have been used to break rocks. She blew me a kiss and sat back down. A few heads turned my way.

At the table behind us, the first of the contestants had lost all of her clothes. A curvaceous blonde with pouty lips giggled and tried to cover herself as she stood and backed away from the table. Though clearly embarrassed, she seemed to be dealing with her sudden nudity with surprising equanimity. I blew through two more hands without a Jack of Spades, losing my socks and trousers, until I finally got the card I needed. Carla looked intently at my countersign and stood up from the table.

"Contact made," she said. I gave her a hand up from her seat.

"Agent Steele," I fake-introduced myself in a pseudo-Connery voice.

"I can see that," Carla replied, eyes darting to my hard-to-conceal boner. "Anything you want to share?"

I could feel myself flushing, but gritted my teeth, determined to play the game. "Sorry, darling. This gun has only one target in mind."

Carla stuck her lips out in a pout. "We'll see about that." She glanced back over to Cary, her gaze as frank and appraising as Ty's had been. "She

is

gorgeous. Your lady friend. What did you say her name was?"

I raised an eyebrow. "That's confidential. And as my contact, you are...?"

Carla lightly bit her bottom lip and hooked an index finger behind a bra strap, fiddling with it in an apparently absentminded way. "Lisa.

Mona

Lisa, if you're lucky."

I laughed loud enough that players from other tables looked over towards us. Ty's sense of humor was obvious in the setup for this game. I wondered if every guy's codename was a boner joke. We had been ushered off to the side of the room by our dealer, where we could watch the rest of the proceedings. Dan and Tiff had joined us--since there were only four of us, process of elimination made it simpler for them.

Our dealer approached, handed us each a dossier, and reminded us that we were not to get dressed until everybody was finished playing. My gaze was laser-focused on Cary, while Carla made small talk with the naked girl and complimented her makeup. They had clearly met before, and referred to other games they had played once or twice. Tiff giggled a couple of times. "That was close," she said to me, and I nodded absently as the man in the vest explained that Tiff and Dan would start their next round with a penalty, since they had come in last place at their table.

Cary was the next to go out, not having shed anything past her bustier. Her contact was a sandy-haired guy who looked like a basketball player. He went to lift her out of her chair by the armpits as he announced that he had discovered his contact, but Cary smoothly stood without his help. As they walked towards the side of the room with the rest of us, he reached out a hand to brush her. I heard his Agent name as "Hardrock," and my suspicion about the joke names were confirmed.

Cary stopped as if adjusting a strap, dodging his next attempt to touch her. She smiled at him disarmingly and introduced herself as "Kitty Bristol," and I rolled my eyes appreciatively.

"I can't believe you beat me!" she hissed as she drew up alongside me and grabbed my arm. It felt absolutely intoxicating to be standing in my boxer shorts next to her--barefoot, mostly naked except for her panties, garter belt, bra, and bustier.

I dropped my dossier over my raging erection and reached to pull her closer to me. As we touched, the skin-on-skin contact of our bodies leaning against each other almost made me dizzy. She sighed quietly in contentment. "Well," I answered breezily, "I've had more practice at poker than you. And we had fewer people at our table. You look amazing."

She colored and leaned into me as my hand settled over the crest of her pelvis. "Just pretending I'm at the pool so that I don't melt into a puddle out of embarrassment. You weren't supposed to see this until later." She gave my arm an affectionate rub. "But I guess the cat's out of the bag now."

"Or rather, the Kitty," I chuckled. "These names. Jeez. Are you doing okay?"

She nuzzled my shoulder with her head. "I'll be all right. My heart is racing right now--getting even half-undressed in front of everybody made me so nervous I almost missed the card cues. This is definitely not something I had expected tonight."

"Good thing you wore layers," I joked, giving a teasing pull at her bustier. "I would never have guessed you owned something like this!"

"Stop," she muttered, clutching me tighter. "You'll make me too embarrassed to pay attention to the rest of this." After a pause, she continued. "Is it just me, or do the rest of the players here all seem really uninhibited? None of them seemed really concerned about getting down to their skivvies."

"I noticed that too," I replied, trying to sound unobtrusive. "Ty said most people knew what this was before they signed up, so maybe they've all just gotten used to the idea ahead of time. I just keep trying to look like I belong."

Cary dipped her head and kissed my collarbone, sending a thrill through me. "Anywhere you are is where

I

belong," she said.

I reveled in the feeling of my hand on her hip, and returned a kiss on top of her head. "

My

Cary," I murmured. "Say the word and we'll disappear to my car or some sequestered room."

She chuckled. "Ha. And

you

--you look great. Teenage guys aren't usually my thing, but..."

I nudged her playfully. "Hey, if getting you riled up and ready for a good time later is the result of this, I'm all in."

Other players started to filter over, including Tiff's date, the brown-haired guy I had met before, who wrapped her in a bear hug. Dan leaned away to give them some space, and muttered something about being "a perfect gentleman this time." He drifted closer to us and gave me and Cary an appraising look.

"Not bad," he said. Indicating the both of us, he asked, "You two have played before?"

We looked at each other and nodded. "Of course." Who had never played poker before?

"I've never met you," he answered, a look of confusion crossing his face. "Have you been to any of Ty's other parties?"

"Yeah," I answered. "His Halloween party, most recently. But most of his friends are too rich for my blood. I'm from the other side of the tracks. Friends from before his dad had a membership at the country club."

"Ah." He nodded as if that cleared something up. "One of his band friends. Awesome."

We were all pretty turned on by the time the last foursome at the third table went out. Ty--still mostly dressed because he was actually a phenomenal poker player--made a smiling announcement. "All right! If you found your contact, you have a dossier! You have ten minutes to memorize it because the next game will be Two Truths and a Lie! Losers of this round have five minutes to memorize only! In the meantime, get dressed again and go where the dealers tell you!"