Author's note: These chapters reveal some of the exploits of an expert card-player, Greg, who uses his skills to get his way with married women. He never discloses that he has played poker at competitions in Las Vegas and, as such, has an overwhelming advantage over amateur players. Each chapter features a different female, written from her point of view.
Alina felt happy as she drove her white Porsche 911 Carrera soft top, and put her foot down on the mile-long straight road. The acceleration made her laugh into the wind. She always looked for excitement. At age 32, with dark hair down to her shoulders, slim and 5'6'' tall, she knew she was good looking. She kept herself fit, did yoga, pilates and had shapely 'dancers' legs, much admired by other men.
Her skirt had risen where it almost showed her knickers. This was exactly where she wanted it, so that her husband could play with her during the drive back home.
She kept her eyes on the dark road, trees either side of them, and shouted, ''Touch me higher, Mike. Go on ... higher, in my panties.''
''You're aroused, Alina. Was it Greg?'' She and Mike had been to a restaurant for dinner to meet Greg Smith, an old friend of Mike's.
''Not sure if it was Greg ... could be. He does have smoky eyes though.'' Yes, she admitted to herself, Greg had charmed her.
''You want a quick one?'' asked Mike, as he eased his fingers to touch her pussy.
She slowed the Porsche to a crawl. In the dark she parted her legs wide. ''Go on, Mike.''
''You're just a little rich girl who expects to get everything in life.'' He leaned over and inserted one finger into her. ''Stop the car, Alina.''
''No. Nobody is behind me. We're in the dark.'' She felt him press his thumb against her clit. It made her jolt and she brought the car to a halt in a clearing at the side of the road. ''Deeper, Mike.'' She pushed back her seat.
Following behind them, no longer out of sight, was Greg. He knew where Alina and Mike lived, it was on his satnav with directions to their large country house in ten acres of Berkshire countryside. Alina watched his car draw up alongside. They had a conversation about waiting for Greg to catch up. ''Follow us,'' she shouted and gunned the Porsche.
Mike licked his fingers. Alina laughed.
They drove through their gates. This was prime real estate on the west side of London. The money came from her father, a Russian who traded in gold and silver and supplied Alina with a huge income.
Mike, however, worked as a partner in a law firm, and had just done some business with Greg, who was an old friend from University and had recently returned from America to live in the UK.
Alina wondered about Greg. In his twenties, Greg was handsome, fit, 6-foot tall with brown eyes. His dark brown hair was long for a man and covered his collar. He had a worldly charm and Alina could tell that Greg liked her. He'd taken a real interest in her.
She had a feeling Mike might bring him into their fantasy role-play during future love-making. Mike often whispered of a third person in the bedroom, someone they knew, and he would fantasise out loud to spice up their sex. Alina didn't mind, because the sex had been predictable without the fantasies. So long as Mike did the talking she was happy to play along. It was only a fantasy.
Her husband, Mike wasn't the greatest lover but he was reliable, honest and he wasn't hung-up about the wealth that Alina brought to the marriage. Mike was slim with grey eyes, fair hair and stood 5'10'' tall.
Mike lit a log fire in their sitting room as Alina made some drinks and coffee. The three-way conversation covered art, politics and Greg brought up the subject of hobbies. ''My hobby is card tricks,'' he said. Alina watched fascinated by the tricks he did. After a while he suggested, ''How about we play poker?'' More wine was poured and the game began. After a few rounds, Greg light-heartedly said, ''Let's have a bet.''
''Yeah, let's make it interesting,'' said Alina, as she calculated how much money Greg could afford to lose
''Okay,'' said Greg. ''I've got a hot contact in the States connected to the annual Oscars. Let's bet that if either of you beat me I'll arrange for two tickets to the next Oscar film awards.''
No wonder Mike's face lit up, thought Alina. There was no way she could get anyway near the Oscars, even with her money. ''How can you arrange that, Greg?''
''I worked in America and made some useful contacts.''
''I can tell Mike's keen and I'm interested.'' Alina wondered what the flip side would be. ''Suppose you win at this poker, Greg, what do you want?''
''If I win,'' he paused in thought, ''you have to do a striptease, Alina, in front of us. In this room.''
She blinked. ''I strip?'' She glanced at her husband as she let the idea settle into her brain. This appeared too good an offer to Alina who weighed up the risk-reward. She would love to go to the Oscars, and if she and Mike lost ... ''Let's do it Mike. It's worth the risk. Think of the Oscars. Besides,'' she said, ''Greg is only going to see me in the nude for a few seconds ... if we lose the bet.'' She covered her embarrassment with a smile but she couldn't ignore the flutter in her stomach.
They established the rules, cleared a space on the coffee table, found some cards and the game proceeded. Ten minutes later, Greg won the poker round and, as he gathered the cards, he suggested, ''I've got an idea. Double or quits? Which means if either of you beat me this time I will get you the tickets plus an invite to the Victoria's Secret Afterparty. It's a higher risk for me.''
Alina frowned as she thought of the downside. ''And ... if you win, Greg, what's your reward this time?'' She half smiled.
''I'm taking a bigger financial risk. A lot of money.'' Greg paused as if in deep thought. ''I would want to see you strip, Alina, and then I want to watch you make love together.''
Her heart felt like it had stopped beating. The silence lasted ten seconds. She guessed Mike would go for it because it was sort of an extension of his own sexual fantasies. Mike looked at Greg, ''Provided you stay sitting and not touching.''
Alina interrupted, ''You haven't asked me about Greg sitting and not touching.''
Mike shrugged and chuckled. She wondered what it would be like to have sex with someone watching - a voyeur. If her husband had said ''no'' she would have agreed. But Mike had left the option open, to have the bet, and pay the price if they lost. Clearly, the decision was hers. At least Greg was interesting. Looking at his eyes she noticed the flecks of silver, a reflection of the flames from the log fire. Reaching for her wine she glanced down Greg's body as he stood to throw a log on the fire. It was obvious he packed a large one, she thought, and Mike would surely see that.
Mike leaned over to Alina. ''It's up to you, darling.''
''A voyeur. Is that all?'' A part of her mind had already accepted defeat at poker. And her words had hinted at something else - touching perhaps. She drank the wine and crossed her legs tightly. The action simply pushed the hem of her skirt higher up her thighs.
Mike smiled. ''Might learn something.''
Greg seemed to have the wisdom to say nothing. He must have noticed Alina's nipples were hard and pressing against her thin bra and buttoned shirt.
''Alright, let's play poker,'' she said. One part of her wanted the Oscars and the Afterparty. But another part of her wanted to lose, wanted Greg to win, wanted to see what would then happen.
At critical times during the game, Greg acted as if he didn't have a strong hand which made Alina more confident of winning. She told herself she wanted the Oscars. But ten minutes later, Mike and herself lost as Glen showed his stronger hand.
Alina put both her hands to her face. ''Oh ... my ... God.'' The look she gave Greg was more hunger than fear. She got up and drank some wine. ''Right. Striptease time.'' Nervousness made her get on with it. Besides, Mike nodded encouragement.
Greg remained seated and murmured, ''Take it slowly.'' He watched Alina unbutton her white shirt and peel it off to reveal a pink lacy bra. Her stiff nipples rasped against the material. She shimmied out of her black skirt which left her standing in her high heels, dark holdups and knickers to match her bra. Greg instructed, ''Leave the rest for the moment, Alina. Strip Mike bare.''
She took a deep breath. Was his command a part of the bet? Greg assumed so and Mike wasn't complaining. It somehow felt better to Alina that she wasn't taking all her kit off just yet.
Greg's authority seemed to have set the scene, as Alina willingly pulled off Mike's T-shirt and his trousers, and his socks. She stopped to look at Greg who said, ''Pull down his underpants. I want to see how big Mike is.'' She knelt in front of her husband and did as she was told. Mike's cock was erect but small at 5 inches, thin with balls that didn't hang down much.
Greg got up and crouched behind her. ''Is he wet, Alina?''
She felt alarmingly turned on by Greg so close. ''I think Mike's quite aroused.''
Greg gently pulled her up to stand. ''Kiss each other. Play with your tongues,'' he ordered. While Mike and Alina exchanged French kisses, Mike had his hands lightly around her waist. She lost herself for a moment in the exchange with Mike and his arousal. That is, until Greg put his hands on her shoulders. A slight tremor gave away that she knew it was his hands. ''Caress each other,'' Greg said. She tightened her arms around Mike's neck. Mike's hands felt her breasts through the lace of her bra.
