Fiona did not take long to figure out the nuances of our private strip poker games.
By the time we had played a few times when we had the house to ourselves, she not only seemed to get better at five card draw, but she also became more strategic about how to handle the inevitable losing hands.
Our games usually began after a night out in which Fiona was swathed in lingerie so she knew that she could extend the teasing for an hour or more if she was careful. Usually we played by the light of candles or a fire with shadows adding to the mystery of seeing her lose her clothes in stages.
The night I am recalling now was long ago and one of the last times we played. I still replay it over and over.
Fiona is the ultimate cool blonde. Reserved on the surface. Articulate and well-bred but with a reserve that led me to underestimate her sexuality before we finally slept together. When we did, I discovered the loudest, most vocal and most passionate woman I had ever taken to bed.
This night was no different. For dinner, Fiona had dressed in a simple black cocktail dress with pearls and high heels. As I held the car door for her, she made a point of casually showing the top of her black stockings and a garter. At dinner, she was maddeningly cool, refusing to respond whenever I ventured a comment even slightly sexual.
By the time we arrived at home, my cock was throbbing as I held Fiona and pulled her toward me. After a long kiss, she whispered, "Start a fire. I need to freshen up."