Four Card Stud

I open the door to our suite, laden with packages. You are sitting at a table in the middle of the room, with three other men, playing cards. My expression is a mix of surprise and dismay.

"Hi Babe. Umm, what's up?" I ask carefully.

"I'm playing cards." You don't even raise your eyes to look at me.

"We had plans to go out tonight, didn't we?" I ask, with no trace of doubt in my voice.

"The plans changed," and again, you don't turn to look at me.

I walk to the bedroom and slam the door shut.

At the table, one of your buddies makes a low whistle, and says "You're in trouble now" and the others chuckle in agreement.

"You think so?" you reply, in an even and unconcerned tone.

"Oh yeah, the only thing you'll get tonight is a hard time." And they laugh.

After about 15 minutes, I emerge from the bedroom, dressed in a jogging suit and I walk to the kitchen. I am ignoring all of you. I grab some fruit and some water, and turn to go back to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" you ask, still concentrating on your cards.

"I'm going to take a bath and watch a movie, " I reply, with a forced smile and a cool tone.

"Would you bring us some beers and order some sandwiches from room service?" you ask, and you turn to look at me, with no trace of emotion.

"Of course, babe, whatever you want," I answer, with just the faintest trace of sarcasm. I put the plate down, go to the kitchen and return with the beers. I put them in the middle of the table and then go to a corner to place the call to room service. I walk back to my food and return to the bedroom.

"Damn," says one of the men, "you've got balls. My wife would kill me if I ever pulled a stunt like that." The others nod in agreement.

Your mouth curls into a slow smile and you say, "She knows who's the boss."

"Sure she does," says the other guy, and they all laugh.

There is a knock at the door, and you make no move to get up. There is another knock. I open the bedroom door, and with my hands on my hips, give you a steely stare. You do not acknowledge me, and I look as if I will explode. But I take a deep calming breath, and go let the waiter in.

He pulls the trolley up next to your table and removes the plate covers. "Shall I serve you gentlemen now?" he asks.

"No, that won't be necessary," and you sign the check.

"Madam, will that be all?" he asks, looking at me. I smile and shake my head and he exits the room.

I turn to go back to mine when you say, "Where do you think you are going?

"To take a bath and watch a movie," I answer, in a tone one uses with an annoying child.

My tone has made you put down your hand and turn to me. "Not until you've served us." I nod ever so slightly and walk back towards the table. "And not in those clothes." You re-focus on the game, but not before looking up at your partners and saying loudly, "Put on something I like." And there is a rather smug smile on your face.

Ten minutes later I return to the room, wearing a slinky grey dress with a silver beading on the halter-top, and very high heels. I walk towards the trolley and pick up one of the plates. I offer it to one of the men, and he sheepishly takes a sandwich. I walk to the next man, but before I can reach out with the plate, you clear your throat loudly. I look at you and you make a downward nod with your head. My eyes flash, but as I serve the next man, I bend over deeply and the dress falls away from my body, exposing my cleavage.

"Better," you say, but you are looking at your cards.

"Anything else?" I ask.

You say, "We need some more beers."

I walk back to the kitchen. At the table, one of the guys says, "I can't believe she did that. She changed clothes for you. You've got her well-trained."

Without making eye contact, you say, "not yet. But I'm working on it."

"You're one lucky dude," says another. "If I had a woman that hot, I wouldn't ask her to change, I'd ask her to strip," and they all laugh in agreement.

I return with the beers and put them on the table. Before I can leave, you say, "Take off that dress." I turn to walk to the bedroom, but you grab my wrist, and say "Here. Take it off here."

I stand where I am, looking straight into your face. I am regarding you with ice-cold rage. You let go of my wrist, and make a small nod towards the ground. I reach up behind my neck and untie the straps. My dress falls to the floor. I stand there next to the table, wearing a black half-cup bra, a black thong, jarretelles and black stockings.

One of the men actually drops his cards and quickly moves to pick them up. But no one saw that, they were all looking at me, then at you, and then back at me.

"Serve us some pretzels and then you can go. Gentlemen, I'll call and raise $200."

I make one last round of the table with the basket of pretzels, stop to pick up my dress, and then go back to my room.

The men are regarding you with admiration and amazement. When they finally are able to talk, they all have pretty much the same question, how do you do it?

"I told you, I'm training her," you answer, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Training her to do what?" is the unanimous reply.

"To be my slut, of course."

The game continues, but the men are so distracted that they begin to lose badly.

"I really can't concentrate now," says one of them, the younger one. "I gotta get me one of those," he adds, in jest. The others nod in agreement.

"You find her desirable?" you ask.

"Are you fucking kidding me? My dick was so hard I thought I'd have to go into the can to relieve myself."

"Yeah," says another. "It's so distracting, it ain't fair. In fact, I'd almost call it cheating," he adds, tipping back in his chair and daring you with his look.

"Gentlemen, I can't have you saying things like that," you reply, in your Texas twang. "Tell you what: to make it interesting, we'll play for her. Whoever wins the next hand...gets to have a taste of her. You guys good with that?"

They look at each other as if they are conspiring to throw spitballs at the high school gym teacher, and then muster up the manhood to say "Deal."

"Hold on a sec," and you rise from the table and go to the bedroom door. You knock and say, "Come out here and watch this game, please." I open the door and follow you back. You pull up a chair for me and point to it. I sit down, cross my legs, put my hands on the arms of the chair and look less than thrilled.

The cards are dealt, and to save your reputation, and to satisfy your wants, you fold early. The others bet fast and furious, and when the youngest guy wins, he's absurdly pleased with himself.

"Darling, take this gentleman back to the bedroom with you." I make no move to stand.

"Now."

I rise slowly and the guy springs to his feet. He follows me like a puppy and turns to close the door after we enter, but not before he casts a questioning look your way. You smile calmly and turn back to the game. The two remaining men look at you as if you're another species. But their pulses are racing...

In the room, I turn to face him. I say nothing.

He looks slightly uncomfortable, but manages to say, "I...er...I won the hand...and the...I mean your husband...well he said I can taste you." With the last words, he casts his eyes to the floor.

I walk to the bed, sit on the edge, and unstrap my shoes. I slowly let them fall off my feet as I lay down on top of the bed. He moves nervously towards me, and crawls towards the center of the bed. He begins by kissing my lips, slowly at first, and then forcing his tongue into my mouth. He pulls back and tries to gage the look on my face. I look back at him with a steady gaze. He moves down and tugs at the bra, just enough to expose my breast, and begins to move his tongue around, as if he's licking an ice cream cone. Then he runs his tongue around my nipple. He sucks on it, while squeezing the other one with his fingers. He keeps this up until I involuntarily moan. He stops, looks up at me, and then smiles while he moves down my stomach with his tongue. He runs his finger around the top of my panties, and then with extreme care, he pushes them down to my thighs, all the while keeping his eyes on my face. He lowers his gaze and kisses my smooth mound a few times and then pulls my pussy lips apart. He begins by lightly running his tongue up and down, encircling my clit as he goes. His tongue moves faster and faster, and then he stops and sucks. He sucks hard. I arch my back and he thrusts his tongue deep inside me. He moves it around for a while, and then goes back to my clit until I cum. I lower my body to the bed, eyes closed. He's leaning over me, unsure of what to do. So he merely stands up and walks out, but not before looking over his shoulder. But I remain still.

He returns to the table and grins in satisfaction. "Tasty...very, very tasty."

The others shake their heads slowly in disbelief, but you only say, "Glad you liked her."

The game resumes; the stakes are higher, the beers go down faster. One brave gentleman makes a shy suggestion: how high would the stakes have to be to fuck her?"

You pick up your bottle and empty it. You put it slowly down and say, "a couple thousand, at least."

The hand is long and hushed. The pot on the table is up to twelve thousand when you draw to an inside straight. The game is yours. The others throw down their cards in disgust.

"You know gentlemen, a good host never disappoints his guests. Why don't you join me?"

You stand, but they remain seated. He couldn't possibly be serious is the silent thought in their heads. But you wait and say, "well, if you'd rather not..." and make a move to sit down. They clamber to their feet and you all walk single file across the room.

You knock on the door, but there is no answer. You open the door and look around. The room is empty. You cross to the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar. I am luxuriating in the bath, champagne in hand.

"Come out of the bath and get on the bed, please," you said in an almost businesslike tone.

I walk into the room, tying the towel around me as I do.

"You won't be needing that," you say, almost kindly. I drop the towel on a chair and go to the bed. I lie down.

You walk back to the door, where the gentlemen are lingering. "Come on in. She was just getting ready for me."

"What are they doing here?" I say with genuine shock in my voice, and a touch of fear.

"We played for you, and I won," you answer, in a patient tone, as if talking to a young child. "But it seemed..." and you look towards the door, "it seemed downright rude not to include my guests."

The men hesitate briefly, but walk to the foot of the bed. You unzip your jeans and step out of them. You begin to caress my wet body, running your hands up and down the length of me, as if you were a young man, waxing his very first car. You run your hands up the inside of my thighs and then pull my pussy lips apart with your fingers spread wide. With the other hand, you run a finger up and down. You shake your head in disappointment. "Babe, you're not wet. Don't you want me?"

"Not like this," I hiss, and start to sit up. You push me down roughly on the bed.

"Lie back and be quiet," you say, very sharply. I listen and obey.

You smile towards your guests and say, "I like my women wet. Very wet."

And you look at me and say, "Spread your legs." Again, I do as I'm told.

You pull my lips apart and I'm even more exposed than before. And then you turn back to your little audience and say, "I think I'll show you something I've been training her to do." You look back at me and say "You know what I want you to do, don't you?"

I remain silent.

"Answer me," you demand. I whisper something inaudible.

"Louder. They can't hear you."

"Squirt," I say, and my breathing gets fast and shallow.

"Good girl," is your reply and you begin to massage my pussy. But I don't relax and you stop for a moment. You reach into the nightstand and grab a tube of lubricant. You squirt it all over your hand. It drips to the bed. With no pause, you shove your fingers in deep and begin moving them in rapid motion. In seconds I am writhing on the bed. My head shakes from side to side and I begin to scream. You continue grinding my G-spot and then my head rises off the pillow and one last desperate yell escapes my open mouth before the juice comes shooting out. It comes with such force that it almost reaches your face. You stop and look with satisfaction at the puddle of liquid on the bed. Then you look at your guests and see the stunned looks on their faces...and the envy in their eyes.

You remove your fingers and rub your hand in the juice. You then rub my face and hair, saying, "That was fantastic. You are learning well, my little nymph. Now you know what I want next, don't you?"

"Please," I beg, "not now. Not like this."

"Don't ever say no to me again, " you bark. You pull me up and practically throw me down again, into a kneeling position on the side of the bed. You grab my hair, pull my head back, and shove your hard, very hard dick down my throat. You thrust and thrust, all the time looking down at my head, smiling. And then your breathing speeds up and you push yourself even deeper in my throat till you feel that you can't go any farther. You cum in several forceful bursts, and on the last one, you pull out and cum on my face. You stand still for a minute, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Once you do, you look down at me and say, "What happens when you say 'no' to me?"

I look up at you with pleading eyes, but say nothing.

"What. Happens." And you lean low over me and sound like a soldier.

I swallow hard and in a weak voice say, "Anything you want."

"That's right." You reach under the bed and pull out the restraints. I start to struggle, but you overpower me. You tie my arms. Then you order me to spread my legs. I close my eyes and do as I'm told. You fasten the ropes around my ankles.

You stand up and look at your guests.

"Gentlemen, I think it's only right that I share with you."

They eagerly undo their belts and shed their pants. One by one they take turns fucking me, all the time my eyes are tightly shut and I'm protesting "No. No more. Please, it's too much."

You stand next to the bed, quietly watching while I have orgasm after orgasm. You are enjoying yourself to an unimaginable degree.

After the bed stops bouncing and the guests have been sated, they follow you out of the room as they came...single file. As they head towards the door, they look at you with unbridled admiration. It's as if they are extras in a Hollywood film and you are a kinky Warren Beatty. The door closes and you walk slowly back to the bedroom.

I am still lying there, eyes closed, not making a sound. You look at me while you untie the ropes. I open my eyes and sit up. I bite my lower lip and say, "so how was I, babe?" with a very coy look on my face.

"You? You were unfuckingbelievable."

A huge smile crosses my face. "I know!!! I am good, aren't I?."

I put my hands up for a high five, and we clap hard. "And how about the part where I slammed the door?"

"You should have seen the looks on their faces. They thought I was a goner."

"And the looks I shot you. I can be so evil." I regard you seriously for a second and then burst out laughing. "I should have been an actress," and I throw my arms around your neck.

"No, you were meant to be my nymph," and you squeeze me tight. "You are a dream come true, do you know that?"

"Why, yes. Yes I do." I am on the verge of saying, I told you so, but I resist.

You take me in your arms and we fall back onto the bed. You are ecstatic. You cannot stop smiling.

"Okay, so you've made my fantasy come true. Now what can I do for you?"