A while ago, a friend and sometimes writing partner of mine teamed up with me in a strip poker game with Kelly Monaco. He is the best card mechanic I have ever seen or even heard of, and we got the sexy lady naked and had a great time in bed with her. A few days ago, she called me back and demanded a rematch with just me against her.
"George, I think your friend, Slick, was cheating," she told me.
"Really? What makes you think that?" I was totally aware he was cheating, but I don't think Kelly really minded all that much, since she had as much fun in the aftermath as we did.
"Because sometimes you and he had cards I didn't deal to you."
"Well, maybe you're right, but I don't know what we can do about it now."
"You can give me a rematch. Just you; not Slick this time."
"A rematch? When do you have in mind?"
"July 14. That's National Nude Day, and I intend to get you bare-ass naked and then have my way with you, like you guys did with me."
That sounded intriguing, especially that last part, because her way with me has always been making me eat her pussy and fucking, which is exactly what I would have wanted to do with her in the unlikely event I had ever won any of the honest games we played.
"Okay, July 14. Do you want to come over here or would you rather I go to your place?" "You come over here. I don't entirely trust you not to have mirrors or some other cheating stuff around."
We arranged a time and established the rules, and I got there promptly, partly because it is my nature and mostly because only a fool would be late for a date with a hotsy like Kelly Monaco, especially when their time together was likely to end in the sexual fun I expected to have with her. She met me at the door, and her affectionate kiss belied the rather harsh way she had spoken when our rematch was arranged.
"Hi, George. I've got everything ready right here. I'm going to get you naked as a jaybird in eight hands, and then I'll decide what I want you to do for me."
"Eight hands" seemed rather overconfident to me. I didn't really care which of us won, because I expected the result to be the same either way. I would have predicted her to be the winner, because she is a professional at strip poker, but I certainly didn't expect her to win that quickly.
As we had agreed, each of us was wearing eight garments, including two shoes and two socks or stockings, and the loser of each hand would remove one of those garments. Apparently, she believed we would only play eight hands, and that she would win every one of them and have me naked while she was still fully clothed.
She reminded me, just in case I had forgotten. "Remember, whoever doesn't win the hand has to take of one thing, whichever he or she wants. Whoever gets naked first is the loser and has to do what the other wants in my bed."
We walked to where the game would be played. It was in a small room next to her bedroom, and I glanced in there on the way. The light was on, and I could see the bed was made with just a single sheet, I assumed it would be clean, and some pillows. This was the same arrangement we had at every game until then, and I expected the result to be the same as all except the most recent of them had been.
There was a table with four chairs, two for us to sit on and two that would be used by us to hang up the clothing we removed. A box that had its tax seal intact and contained a brand new deck of cards was in the center of the table. Kelly opened it, dumped out the cards, discarded the joker and began to shuffle expertly. Apparently, she wanted to deal the first hand, which I didn't care about one way or the other.
Until I picked up the cards, that is. I had one of the worst hands I had ever seen, with nothing higher than a nine, and I was about to throw the cards into the middle of the table, when my opponent beat me to it. She laid her hand on the table face up, and her highest was an eight.
Somehow I had managed to win that hand and, when she saw what I had, Kelly stood up, removed her blouse, and hung it on the chair beside her. When she sat back down, I admired her big, luscious breasts, which were still supported by her bra, and the warm expanse of soft tan skin that had become visible. My poker opponent is one of the most beautiful women I know, which certainly seems reasonable. A woman doesn't get to be Playboy's Playmate of the Month without being a beauty. It was my turn to deal, so I picked up the cards and shuffled them clumsily, while Kelly watched me with disdain.
This time I had a pair of fours, and I wasn't going to throw them in without seeing what her hand was. She had two jacks, meaning she had won the hand so I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and hung it on the chair that was there for that purpose. Kelly picked up the cards again, shuffled and looked at me before dealing them out.
"I'm going to get you this time, George. You're going down!"
Going down on her seemed like a great idea, but I decided against mentioning that. Once again, she dealt the cards with easy flicks of her wrists and, when I picked up my hand, I had a pair of tens. I wanted to see her cards before I showed mine, so I waited for her to lay her cards on the table. She was waiting for me also, so I decided to go first, and let her see my tens.
"Well, you win again," she said, and showed me her pair of fives.
I expected her to remove a shoe, but Kelly surprised me. She grinned impishly, reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. After hanging it on the chair while her arm was covering her nipples, she turned to face me, moved her arm out of the way, and shook her truly gorgeous breasts.
As I said, I was surprised at her choice of what piece of clothing to take off, but I was certainly not going to say anything that might make her change her mind, because every time she moved after removing her bra, those lovely tan globes with their dark brown nipples swung and swayed and bounced enticingly.
The game, such as it was, continued. That pair of tens that had earned me the sight of those luscious breasts was the best hand I had. Kelly wasn't doing any better than I was and, after we had each dealt seven times, it was her turn to deal again. I was wearing only my jockey shorts and she was down to no more than her panties. On the previous hand, which I had won, she had stood up to remove her jeans, and I had seen clearly what that last garment was like.
It was very tight and sheer, and I had been treated to the sight of a pale camel toe, visible through the fabric. I was really hoping to win the next hand, which would be the last, so I could again feast my eyes on Kelly's beautiful, naked body and retire to her bed where I would claim the rewards of my victory.
I picked up my cards and stared at them. Only once before in my life had I ever seen a royal flush, and that had been on the previous occasion when we were cheating Kelly, but that was what I held in my hands. I had the ten through the ace of clubs but, before I could lay the cards down on the table and watch the sexy lady strip off her panties, she beat me to it.
"Read 'em and weep, George," she announced, and placed her cards on the table facing me.
That was the third time I had seen a royal flush, and hers was in hearts. The odds against one such hand are immense; the chances of two at the same time in a two-handed game have probably never been calculated. I thought she had very likely been cheating, but I didn't say anything, because my hand was tied with hers, and it had to be the last hand of the game.
"What do we do now?" I asked.
"You know the rules. You didn't win, so you have to stand up and take off your underwear."
"Okay, but you didn't win either."
"Well, then, we'll both have to take off our underwear."