Level Pegging

"Level pegging," said my husband, "Looks like a close game."

"Why don't we make it interesting, then?" I replied.

In recent months we had developed a sort of ritual of playing card games after dinner. Tonight we were on cribbage, my husband's choice and a game that he tended to win. Dan's grandfather had been in the navy, where the game had been the card game of choice and Dan had grown up playing with his grandfather, whose board he had latterly inherited. Of course, a lot of the game came down to chance and probability, but even so Dan's experience tended to help. He would normally find himself coming out on top. He just had a better grasp of the tactics, the right cards to play at the right time, what was called "good pegging" in the parlance of the game.

Today, however, we were level pegging, the expression (now popular in lots of sports) used to show that our pegs were stuck into notches right beside each other on the board; the same number of points scored and the same number needed to win. It could go either way. We had turned the final corner and both were 35 points from being triumphant. We didn't usually bet on our card games or keep a running track of who was on top overall, but this one was so close that I thought I might actually win for once. And so I was keen to make that potential victory extra sweet with a little additional incentive.

"You mean money?" Dan asked.

I shook my head, something else.

"Nah," I told my husband, "Your money and my money are all the same really. It's household money, we'd just be moving it around. No, winning this game should give us power."

"Interesting," Dan replied.

"I know something you've been wanting from me for a long time," I said, "And I've kept refusing. How about if you win this game, I'll let you do it."

"What...You mean...?"

"That's right, I'm betting my ass on this game. I know you've been wanting to try anal since forever. So if you beat me here then I'm gonna let you do it, let you screw me back there."

"And if you win?"

"Same terms. If my peg reaches the end of the board first, then my pegging gets your ass first. It seems only fair. If you get to take me in the ass if you win, then I should get to screw your fine butt if I do."

I could see that my husband was a little taken aback by this.

"Really? Is that something you want? How would that even work?"

"Pegging. It's where a woman wears a strapon to penetrate her man. It's really no different from what you want to do to me, except with the roles reversed."

"I didn't know you were into that sort of thing."

"Just curious. You seem so keen on the idea of anal, can't I be just a little interested in doing the same to you, a new experience for both of us?"

"Isn't that a bit - you know - kind of..."

"Gay? You're secure in your masculinity, aren't you, babe? There's nothing gay about sex between a man and a woman, whatever position they're in and whatever tools they use. Besides, I read that it's something more and more straight couples are trying out and enjoying these days."

"I don't know."

"If you're so sure you're going to win, why should it matter? You win and you get just what you want. So maybe don't worry too much about what happens if you lose!"

In truth, strapon play was something that I had only recently become curious about. And it was googling for cribbage tips that had pushed me toward it. It's not like I was particularly sheltered, I mean I'd heard about straight couples using strapons just like lesbians, but I wasn't really prepared for the results when putting "good pegging" into a search engine! I'd just wanted to learn how to get higher scores at cards than my husband and now here were stacks of websites encouraging me to screw him in the butt!

But, like I said, I got curious. There was something quite empowering and exciting in the image of a woman with something firm between her thighs, in those pictures of guys bending over or spreading their legs to take her inside. An ultimate role reversal. So, I decided to click on some of those links and read up a little on pegging.

All that stuff about women penetrating their men made me think about my husband's interest in anal sex. I had never really got why he was so keen on the idea. It had always just seemed to me like it would be uncomfortable, maybe even painful. Sure, I was flattered by the attention that he gave to my round butt - I was far more of a curvy woman than one who could reasonably be called skinny - but that didn't mean I wanted him thrusting up inside me back there. But, thinking about pegging and about myself being the one to do the penetrating, I began to think about my husband's cute butt in the same way he did about mine. Maybe there was something to anal after all.

It's not like I had become obsessed with screwing my husband's ass, but I was definitely curious. Dan had said that anal would be a way of spicing up our sex life, of experimenting with something new. Well, I felt the same about this. I had begun to toy with the idea of offering an exchange of fantasies, giving in to his desire if he gave me mine in return. But then the term "pegging" had come up again during our card game and this higher stakes alternative had just come to me. It was a risk, I knew. After all, Dan still tended to win these games even from a tied position. There was still a strong probability that I would be the one getting screwed at the end of it. But, like any gambler, I was counting on dangling the probability of his victory in front of my opponent in order to lure him into putting something on the line that he might not otherwise do.

"You're right," he took the bait, "I'd still back me to win from this position and that win is going to look even sweeter from another position: you bent over and offering up that juicy ass!"

"So, you agree to the bet?" my eyes lit up.

"Sure, why not? I'm a couple of good cards away from you finally giving me my fantasy."

The bet was on and we returned to the game. Dan was the dealer this round, which gave him the additional advantage of the crib: the extra hand made up of our discarded cards with which he could score in the second stage of the round. He dealt us six cards each. As soon as I saw mine I began to worry that I might have been a little too eager to rush into a bet of such high stakes. They weren't the worst set of cards ever, but there wasn't a lot of points to be scored here.

I had the Ace of Clubs, 5 of Diamonds, 6 of Clubs, 8 of Hearts, 9 of Clubs, and 10 of Hearts. Points are scored in cribbage by holding cards that add up to fifteen. There were three possible ways of making fifteens from my set, although I'd only be able to keep hold of two in my hand. Two of the six cards would have to go into the crib for Dan to make use of. A starter card of seven or ten would improve things significantly, but I couldn't count on that. I passed the eight and the ace into Dan's crib, counting at least on getting the points from the two fifteens. Dan had already put two of his cards decisively aside into the crib, a sure sign that he was confident in scoring well from what he had left in his hand.

"Great idea this bet, Lizzie," he said, confidently, "My win tonight is going to be even better than usual."

I had little to say to that, suddenly afraid that he might be right and not far off claiming his prize, so I simply split the pack and drew a random card as the starter. 3 of Spades. That gave me nothing. It was definitely going to be a low scoring round for me.

Now we entered the play stage of the round. I didn't want to lead with my five, knowing the extra likelihood of Dan having a card worth ten to make an immediate fifteen (all face cards are worth ten in cribbage, meaning there are more cards of ten value in the pack than any other), so instead I laid down the nine. Dan followed with the 5 of Hearts, giving me the perfect opportunity to play my own five and score two points for the pair.

I took my peg and moved it two spaces further forward from our level placing with a smirk. I was in the lead. It didn't last long, though, as it turned out that Dan had just been luring me into playing just as he wanted. He responded to my five with a more triumphant expression of his own, laid down the 5 of Spades and scored himself six for the pair royal; moving his peg ahead of mine on the board.

The play can only go up to 31, meaning that all I could do was use my six to take the total to thirty. Dan knocked on the table and said "go" to indicate he had nothing that could take the total higher, letting me score one for the last.

Resetting to zero, Dan laid down the Jack of Hearts and I followed with my last card, the ten, leaving Dan to finish the play. Unfortunately for me, his remaining card was a ten too, giving him both a pair and one for last, pushing his peg a further three holes further away from mine and my butt further toward being the one on the line. I was really starting to get tense and nervy now and my husband more and more smugly confident!

The play stage of the game is followed by the second stage: the show. That's where we score the points in our hand. I had nothing but my two fifteens for a mere four points, not even making up the gap that Dan had opened up during the play. Dan, on the other hand, scored from his pair of fives and, accompanying them with a ten and a jack, had four different combinations to make fifteen, a further eight points.

And that was before he added the points from the crib; where the cards that I had discarded were joined by the Ace of Diamonds and 7 of Spades, making a pair of aces and a fifteen from his seven and my eight. Dan picked up his peg and moved it a further four points up the scoring track. As he pushed the peg suggestively into its slot, so far ahead of mine, thrusting it home in a way that left me in no doubt what other hole he was thinking about thrusting into, I felt nervously uncomfortable about the increasingly likely outcome of the night.

From being level pegging before this hand, Dan had now opened up a sixteen point lead. The game is played up to a total of 121 and Dan already had 109. I didn't fancy my chances of making up the difference.

"You know you can just concede now and we can move straight to the bedroom," he grinned.

"Not so fast," I said with more confidence than I felt, "Things can turn very quickly with the right cards. Your ass isn't safe just yet!"

I shuffled the deck and dealt us each a new hand. Now it was my turn to have the advantage of the crib. I looked at my cards and they were definitely a far better set than last time: The 3 of Diamonds, 4 of Spades, 5 of Spades, 5 of Clubs, 6 of Spades, and 9 of Hearts. At the very least, regardless of the starter card, that gave me a potential pair, a run of three or four, and some possible fifteens, although I couldn't keep all of that. I dropped one of the fives into the crib, along with the three, knowing that the larger number of cards worth ten gave reasonable odds that Dan would discard one into the crib. My husband, meanwhile, definitely looked less confident in his selection this time. He split the pack and drew the starter card. It was the 9 of Diamonds. That changed things a bit for me. Things were suddenly looking up. Perhaps all wasn't quite lost.

"Two," said Dan abruptly, starting the play by laying down the 2 of Diamonds.

"Eleven," I added my nine.

"Sixteen," Dan laid down the 5 of Hearts.

It was the same situation as last time. Maybe he was tempting me again to lay down a five of my own to set him up for more points. But I wasn't going to get anywhere by playing conservatively. I had already put it all on the line with this bet, so I had to play like it was all or nothing. It didn't matter if I lost by one point or twenty, Dan would be screwing my ass either way. So, if I had a chance to make up a bit of the gap between us, even at the possibility of losing a load of points, then I needed to do it now.

"Twenty-one," I put down the five and moved my peg up two for the pair.

"Thirty-one," Dan laid down the 10 of Spades to wrap up this round and match my two points to re-open the gap. So he didn't have another five after all.

"Four," I began the next round.

"Eleven," Dan added the 7 of Hearts.

"Seventeen," I concluded, "One for the last."

I'd made up all of one point in the play. Nowhere near enough to make a difference in the end. I had to hope my hand and crib had more to offer.

First, however, Dan revealed his and things finally went my way. It was a relief to see how poorly the hand scored. A good hand and Dan could have been home and dry and claiming his prize. There was a fifteen from his five and ten, but that was it. His whole hand score was two. Suddenly I had a chance to turn things around and make up the difference.

The starter card being a nine gave my hand a pair of nines, three fifteens, and a run of four, five and six. I moved my peg up eleven points. The gap was definitely starting to close. I was now just six points behind my husband's peg on the scoring track and with the crib yet to score. Remarkably, with a high scoring crib I could win the game right now. I'd need 14 points, which was unlikely. But that - and plenty of higher scoring hands - were possible.

My heart beat faster as I hoped for that miraculously high scoring hand and a sudden surprise victory, turning over the cards in the crib. No such luck. Dan hadn't given me a ten or a face card, but my five and three didn't go to waste as he'd added the 4 and the 9 of Clubs. The nine made a pair with the starter card and the four gave me another run thanks to my three and five. It wasn't the immediate win I'd wished for and five points wasn't the most that you could ever score from the crib. But it allowed me, with some pleasure, to move my peg to within one spot of Dan's.

"Looks like I'm turning the tables in the game," I said with a challenging tone, "Just like I will later in the bedroom,"

"Don't count on it, babe," Dan replied, a similarly competitive glint in his eye, "Remember who's still out front."

His peg was in the 113th notch on the scoring track and mine on 112. With the game only going up to 121 it was sure to be decided on the next hand.

Dan had the advantage of being the dealer once again and, therefore, having the additional points from the crib. With only eight needed, I knew that, between his hand and the crib, he was practically certain to have enough points to win. Just as long as I didn't get there first!

Yes, I did have one crucial advantage. When it comes to the show, the dealer counts his scores second. Dan would indeed likely have enough points in the show to win, but if I had enough in my own hand to make up the gap to 121 then it didn't matter. I got to score first, so I could take my peg across the finish line without Dan scoring in the show at all. That was now my aim and my focus.

Dan dealt what would surely be the final hand. I looked at my cards. I was nine points from victory, but there was no way to make this hand score more than four. Damn it!

I had the 2 and the 3 of Diamonds, 5 of Spades, 6 and 8 of Clubs, and finally the Jack of Hearts. Three different ways to make fifteen there, but I could only hold onto two. Nothing better. I shuffled nervously in my seat, involuntarily clenching my butt as much at the tension of the game as an awareness of what awaited it if I lost.

I was going to have to hope for either a strong starter card or to score highly in the play. The only trouble there was that I'd have to stop Dan from scoring there too. He only needed eight to win. Eight was the kind of number it was easy to reach in just the play if things went your way. That was something that I had to prevent at all costs. While I had been cavalier in my approach to the cards earlier on, now I was going to have to swing in the opposite direction, play cautiously and keep the score down.

I kept the low scoring cards, they would be useful in the play, and discarded the six and eight into Dan's crib. I knew that if we even got to scoring that then he would likely be claiming his victory anyway. I instantly regretted my choice to discard, though, when I cut the pack and picked out as starter the 6 of Hearts. So I just gave away a perfectly good pair. That might have been the winning margin. I let out an audible sigh.

"Not on the cards for you to nail my ass after all, Liz?" my husband gloated, overhearing my sigh.

"It's not over just yet," was all I could say, but I was starting to sweat, "Only one point in it, it could yet go either way."

I had to play defensively so I started low and laid down my three. Dan responded in the opposite way with the King of Clubs, setting me up perfectly to make fifteen with my two. I picked up my peg and jumped forward two spaces. I was now in the lead by one point. Dan responded with the 5 of Clubs, taking the total to twenty and making it clear to me that he had at least one fifteen to score in his hand when we got to the show stage.

Maybe I could stop things from getting that far, though, because I had a five of my own to play and that made a pair. Another two points further forward for my peg and I was just five from victory. Of course, Dan had the perfect response to that, the 6 of Diamonds, taking the total to 31 and giving him two points to match the two that I'd just scored.

We both had just one card left and so no choice what to play. I laid down my jack and Dan responded with a triumphant fist pump. Slapping the Jack of Clubs down on the table he jumped his peg forward two for the pair and another one for the last, going back to a lead of two and, by the way, revealing that he had comfortably enough scoring cards in his hand to more than make it to the end during the show stage.

Did I, though?

Dan's peg rested on 118, mine on 116, just five from the end. But all I had in my hand was a fifteen from the jack and the five, and another fifteen from the jack, the two and the three. Four points. It would take me to 120, just one from the end. I had got so close only to have my husband snatch the win just when it seemed within my grasp. If anything this was worse than ending up twenty points behind. I really thought I could take him this time and my peg, one spot from the end, was testament to how I could have done if only I'd made better choices.

But, then, today was a day for my bad choices. Choices like literally betting my ass on a card game I hardly ever win! What the hell was I thinking? Maybe I deserved what was coming to me after diving so recklessly into this situation. I had been so taken with my newfound urge for pegging my husband's ass that I had opened myself up to finally giving the same to him!

"Don't worry, honey, I'll go easy on you," Dan said, "Just like I did at this game when we first started that. And look at you now. You almost had me this time. I was genuinely starting to worry about my ass getting nailed!"

The six starter card was useless. It made me deeply regret the cards I'd discarded into the crib. They would have been all that I needed for that extra point to give me victory and give me my husband's ass. The margin between victory and defeat really was that narrow. Except...

My heart jumped in my chest. I suddenly remembered a rule that I always forgot, an extra point that you could score that was unique to the game of cribbage. That starter card wasn't just a six, it was the 6 of Hearts specifically. And there was another heart in play, the Jack of Hearts in my hand. And in cribbage, when you've got a jack in your hand and it matches the suit of the starter card, that means -

"And one for his nob!" I cried out, triumphantly

Dan looked crestfallen as I made a great show of taking my peg, moving it the single spot it needed and thrusting it with decisive force into the winning slot. He had been as certain that he was about to claim victory as I had been about my imminent defeat. Now switching things up at the last minute completely pulled the rug out from under him. He seemed like he didn't know how to react at all. He just blinked and stared open mouthed as he tried to process both suddenly losing a game that he had thought he'd won and what that loss would cost him.