This is the first time she has been in the house during poker night, and has strict instructions not to come down once the play has commenced. She has even parked her car in a lay-by around the corner from the house so as not to alert the guests to her presence -- so strictly adhered-to is the no-girls rule.
She hears them all arrive, and downstairs the customary banter begins. Pretty soon they are all sat at the table and playing away, beers being drunk at the usual pace.
Having finished the second of her large glasses of wine, she decides to venture down for a refill. Throwing on one of his shirts, she opens the bedroom door as quietly as she can, and starts down the stairs.
They are mid-game. One player is already out, and the dealer is just ready to start the next deal when she appears coming down the stairs. Only the one at the end of the table with his back to the stairs does not immediately look up, and he soon turns round.
She is wearing a pink man's shirt. It is several sizes too big for her, and she has created a plunging neckline by leaving the top 3 buttons undone. With the length of the shirt-tails covering down to the tops of her thighs, it is not clear what she may or may not be wearing underneath...
"Evening," she says confidently. The confidence is largely due to the wine, and she does not wait for the mumbled answers from all around the table, but breezes through to the kitchen.
"Jesus, mate. You didn't tell us she was here," remarks one.
"You so would," remarks another, much quieter than the first. This leads the table to look to her partner for a reaction -- a wide smile is the reaction they get. Seeing this, the mood becomes more brazen, and a third remarks: "I wonder what she's got on underneath that shirt..."
"A big pair of pants!" The laughter that follows is partly due to the remark, and partly due to the fact that she has now returned to the lounge and has evidently heard the remark for herself.
"I bet you she hasn't," comes a reply amongst the laughter.
"How much?" Asks her partner, in a slightly more serious tone.
"A thousand chips," comes a reply from one of the others. This incites another round of laughter, although a little more restrained this time.
"It's a deal," says the partner, which promptly brings the laughter to a halt. "Babe -- take off that shirt." If it was quiet before, it is silent now. She feels her face flush even brighter red than the wine had already made it, and without stopping to think, she unbuttons the shirt with one hand while still holding the wine glass in the other.
At first, very little is revealed as the two halves of the shirt front sit neatly over her breasts. When she undoes the last button though, the two sides fall apart and it takes a few seconds for both her and the silent crowd to realise what this means. Her neat triangle of pubic hair is revealed to all -- a pin drop could be heard in the room full of beer-fuelled men.
Seeing the lustful gazes of the staring men, her self-consciousness starts to burn though the general wine-haze, but before she can turn and dash up the stairs, her partner breaks the stunned silence.
"Take it off, please." How dare he order her like that? She cannot fight her feelings though. Despite her outrage at being paraded in front of his friends, the electricity of arousal is also burning through the wine-haze. She slips the shirt off her shoulders and stands before them.
Six pairs of eyes roam up and down her body, and she can feel the collective arousal in the air as she stands with the shirt around her feet.
"Oh well. Looks like I owe you a thousand chips then". With that, she turns and walks back up the stairs, knowing that the six pairs of eyes are still relentlessly trained on her nakedness until she finally disappears into the darkness.
Oh my God -- what did I just do? The thought hits her as she closes the bedroom door behind her and downs about half of the newly-filled glass of wine in one attempt.
