Love and Jeopardy

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Applause broke out in the lovely hotel chapel.

Denise looked radiant in her gown and Chet was bursting with pride in his morning coat as the procession line snaked along the pews of the intimate room. The groom had to conclude that holding the ceremony and reception here, in a city midway between that of his own family and his new bride's had been a splendid idea. Everyone convened in the banquet hall for the reception.

"Toast "Jeopardy," Toast!"

Chet got up and said a few halting words.

"How is it that Chet can win two weeks straight at the toughest game show in the country in front of tens of millions of strangers yet can barely utter a simple declarative sentence on what should be the happiest day of his life, in front of his most intimate friends?" stated one groomsman to another.

"Different part of the brain, I suppose. In any event, we'll be able to see how smart he really is, shortly," returned the second groomsman.

"Are you sure Denise is on board with this?"

"Yeah, she's the one who came up with it."

Both men contemplated the new wife of their friend for a moment.

"Chet is one lucky bastard!"

"Amen to that, my friend!"

The cake was wheeled in and cut. Glasses clinked. The happy couple exchanged kiss after kiss.

"Why are they only serving wine?"

"Denise's parents are teetotalers. They only permitted wine because Jesus turned water into wine at the wedding in Canaan."

"I didn't know she was so conservative."

"She's not. Her parents are and they are paying for the wedding, so, they get to make the rules."

After about three hours, the newlyweds made their exit from the festivities.

Chet, all six-foot-one beanpole that he was, desperately wanted to start the honeymoon then and there. Denise, five-foot-three, dark-haired, green-eyed, and stunning figure, broke off the clinch.

"I won't have you ruin this dress, Romeo. Let me go back up to my sister's room and change. They won't let us into the bridal suite for another hour anyway, and then we have all week!"

"Can I go with you?"

"No. I want to surprise you."

Crestfallen, Chet kissed his wife deeply. Watched her walk into the elevator. The doors closed and the elevator rose.

Denise chuckled as she exited the elevator. Her sister greeted her at the door with a sly smile.

"Beautiful wedding, Sis."

"Thanks!"

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Absolutely! Chet has been so full of himself since his run on "Jeopardy" that he's practically insufferable. He needs a good dose of humility."

"You are wicked, Sis!"

"No, I'm the woman he deserves -- IF he can learn to be humble again. Imagine! Having all his groomsmen call him "Jeopardy" at OUR wedding!"

"I see your point."

Having changed into sundress and sandals atop frilly, barely-there underthings, nylons, and a garter, Denise strode out of her sister's room. Four groomsmen stood in the hall. Everyone was all smiling.

"I must say, you gentlemen are the most handsome bunch of kidnappers, a woman ever had!"

With much merriment, the quintet entered an elevator and disappeared.

Chet was getting antsy. It was close to forty-five minutes since he had placed Denise in the elevator. All the guests had long departed. He wondered if she had somehow gotten twisted around and rode the elevator on the opposite side of the building. He was just about to head that way when Claire, his new sister-in-law appeared in the open elevator. She looked frantic and held a piece of paper in her hand.

"They've taken her, Chet!"

"What?"

"A group of men grabbed Denise and led her off. They left this taped to the wall in the hallway. She handed the sheet of paper to Chet. The new groom noted that the words were cut out of various newspapers and magazines. He read,

"We have your wife, "Jeopardy." Do NOT contact the police. Your bride is perfectly safe, for the present. This is a test of wits, Mr. Hammond. If you can solve the clues within a three-hour time limit, you will be able to locate your wife and have a happy reunion. Any longer than that, we cannot be held responsible for our actions."

Below this was typed six clues.

1. What is the color of the ceiling tiles in the Locust building at 101, Elm Street?

2. What is the call number of "Pilgrims Progress" at the main library on 301, Broadway?

3. What make of car is parked in space 27, level one of the hotel's parking garage?

4. How many columns are there on the Yacht Club at 50 Front Street?

5. Does 14th Street dead end?

6. How many floors are there on the Palmyra building at 94 Clark Street?

Figure out the clues in this epistle and your reunion will be brief. The clock is ticking Mr. Brain, Mr. Jeopardy.

Signed,

Unlikely suspects.

Chet had just absorbed the contents of note when his best man, Frank turned up at his shoulder. He passed the letter to him.

"This is a joke, right?"

Claire repeated the tale of abduction. Frank was convinced.

"We have no time to waste! Let's get moving! Claire, you stay here in case the kidnappers contact you again. With that, Chet and Frank darted towards the front entrance of the hotel. Claire smiled as she watched her new brother-in-law depart at high speed. She pushed the button for the fifth floor. She walked along the hall to room 587 and knocked on the door in a very specific way.

A groomsman opened the door a crack.

"He fell for it like a ton of bricks."

"Told you so!" came a voice from the interior of the room.

"Come on in Claire."

The very beautiful dirty blonde entered the room. Her sister sat at a card table; the groomsmen were in their shirt sleeves with loosened ties.

"So, sis. How do we kill Three hours?"

"More likely four, Denise. You gentlemen have any libations with you?"

**

Chet rushed out of the uber to the foyer of the Locust building. Frank was contemplating a map of the city on his I-phone.

"I don't see how we can do all this in the allotted time, Jeopardy. I think we may be missing something."

"Don't interrupt, Frank!" returned Chet hotly.

**

The rum and cokes went down very well. Claire and Diane each had a big glass.

"What do we do now?" asked Darrell, the stout reddish-haired groomsman, "Order up a movie on Netflix?"

"Not a bad idea," replied Denise, "but I want to be active, not waiting around like Rapunzel in her castle tower."

"Charades?" suggested Darius, Chet's black friend who had played college football while simultaneously serving as a member of the school's college bowl trivia team.

"Boring!" returned Denise.

"Pictionary?" was proposed by Stanley, the groom's well-muscled cousin.

"Man, you boys are cold!"

Leo, a handsome fraternity brother of the groom, reached into his vest pocket and produced a deck of cards.

"Now, your talking!" said Denise. "It's Crazy Eights, my deal!"

**

"Come on driver! We have to make it to the library before it closes."

"Look, sir. Traffic is backed up here to the airport. Their catalog is online you know."

"I never thought of that!"

"You sure aren't a Jeopardy contestant, are you?"

Chet let the insult wash over him even as he seethed.

"I want to change my destination to 50 Front Street!"

"That's all the way on the other side of town and in this traffic, it will take miles before I can turn around!"

"Just do it, driver!"

**

"Oh, come on, Denise, can we play something else, you've swamped us every game!" complained Leo after more than an hour and a half of intense play. Both the newlywed bride and her sister had consumed another rum and coke. They guys had been drinking Whiskey or vodka shots for the same amount of time. Denise looked at her sister, devilment in her lovely green eyes.

"OK, we'll play something else. How about poker?" she suggested.

"What will use for chips?" asked Claire.

"Well, we could use our clothes!"

There were cries of assent from the four groomsmen.

"Denise!" gasped Claire.

"Take a look around, Claire. Whatever happens, we can't lose! Besides, Chet should have solved that puzzle in all of five minutes if he'd thought about it logically. It's been what? Two hours! It would serve him right if I lost everything."

"Denise, you devil!" squealed Claire.

"My cards my deal!" announced Leo as everyone settled themselves around the table once more

"OK ladies and gentlemen, five card stud, jokers are wild," announced Leo as he shuffled the deck.

Denise was quite skilled at cards. Chet and Denise played strip poker often when they were dating, and the beautiful dark-haired girl regularly trounced her beau. She had also done surprisingly well in an open tournament at a resort. "If the guys think I'm going to be a pushover..." she thought.

The cards were dealt...

**

Chet was busy counting the columns of the Yacht Club drawing stares from passersby and chuckles from the members. One of whom pointed out, "My dear lad, you could simply have counted them on our web page which, after all, displays the entire front facade."

Chet groaned and hailed Frank. I think we need to re-think this thing," he said in frustration.

**

Denise discovered that the rum and cokes put a crimp on her skills. Fortunately, the guys seemed equally impaired by their own imbibing.

After a dozen hands, things stood thusly: Everyone had lost their shoes. All the men had lost their socks, and Claire and Denise had ceded their stockings. Darrell, an incompetent player at best of times was down to his boxers. His roundish physique was not impressive, and his pale skin reminded Denise of milk. The new bride understood that Chet would not be terribly upset if she spied the young redhead in the altogether. The other groomsmen, however... Darius was spectacularly shirtless. Leo, also shirtless, was fit, but far less impressive. It was a moment of truth; someone would be showing skin. Denise wondered if the handsome Stanley's pecs and abs could compare with Darius's.

"Damn!" she sighed as Stanley turned over his cards.

"Pay up!" chanted the guys.

"You perverts!"

"Hey, this game was YOUR idea!" Returned Stanley.

"OK, OK!" with a sly smile, Denise rose to her feet and tugged off the sun dress.

Wolf whistles and roars of approval echoed around the room as Denise revealed what was under her dress. The sexy black bra and knickers were lacy enough to reveal the outline of the bride's areolas and very much hinted that she had gotten a full Brazilian in anticipation of her honeymoon!

"We need to discuss loser's penalties," opined Stanley.

"Don't get ahead of yourself! No one has won yet!" chided Claire.

The bride's sister was less sanguine when she lost the next round and was reduced to just her underwear as well. Claire's underthings were more utilitarian, white, and far less lacy than her sister's but none of the guys present, minded in the least. The sisters' lithesome forms were equally enchanting.

**

As the uber sped them towards the Palmyra building on Clark Street; well, as speedily as an uber could progress in rush hour, construction delayed traffic, Frank explained. "Jeopardy, I think there is something we're missing."

"I know, for one thing, there is probably no way to complete these tasks in the allotted time even if the city was unoccupied and every traffic light along the way frozen on green."

"Let's look at these clues again. We should have immediately concluded that a good portion of the questions could have been answered by surfing the web."

"Yeah, I feel really stupid for missing the obvious ones like the library call number."

"And Chet, what are we collecting these numbers for? I mean, do they add up to anything, like say a phone number? and what does the ransom note mean by the unlikely suspects?"

"Yeah, that certainly didn't read like a typical ransom note. Maybe it was a diversion?"

"Why?"

"To get me out of the hotel for a couple of hours! Oh my God, I stepped right into a trap!"

The Palmyra building loomed into view.

"Frank, you wait here, I'll ask the number of floors at the front desk."

Chet breathlessly entered the lobby of the gothic-style building. The pretty little receptionist looked from her work and announced,

"The building is closing in ten minutes."

"How many floors does this building have?"

"Sixteen, but since there is no thirteenth floor, I suppose you could say it has fifteen."

A startled expression crossed her face.

"Oh, you must be the one this fax was intended for."

"What fax?"

"This one came this morning. The only instructions with it were quote, "to give it to the tall, frazzled young man in a tuxedo," that would seem to be you."

She slid over the facsimile.

"Hey, don't I know you from someplace? Were you on television?"

For the first time, Chet did not respond to this inquiry with a detailed recounting of his championship fortnight on America's toughest trivia show. In fact, he began to wonder how he had managed to even qualify.

The fax contained a line drawing of Admiral Akbar from "Star Wars." beneath the character was written,

--The answer to your quest has been in your hand the entire time. Simply add the numbers together and think for a moment.

I'll be waiting, not patiently, and not alone. I hope you learned something from this Chester. If you refer to yourself by that game show title once more, the next fax I send you will be coming from Reno, Nevada! XXXOOOX -- your bride --

Realizing how foolish he had been, Chet summed the numbers in his head and got the figure 587. Why was that familiar? Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. Darius's room! He hastened back to the idling uber.

"What's up Jeopardy?" inquired his best man.

"Don't EVER call me that again!"

Glumly, he slid into the rear seat.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just kicking myself for being such a moron."

Chet told the driver to take them back to the hotel. He knew that at this time of day, the trip would take hours.

"God, am I stupid!"

"You're the smartest dude I know, Chet."

"Not in any of the ways that really matter pal, not in the way that really matters."

**

Shirtless, Stanley was quite nice. Denise thought that if a woman wasn't into a guy as massive as Darius, Stanley was a very nice option. The new bride adored muscles. He only frustration with her husband, aside from his ego of late from his appearance on television, was his lack of strongly defined musculature. Oh, he was plenty strong to pick up Denise and cradle her as she adored, and his height was appealing, when he wasn't full of himself, he was the sweetest, most solicitous, and charming boyfriend a woman could want. When he took his shirt off at the beach, however, it was almost logical to expect some Charles Atlas wanna-be to kick some sand in his face! In the past, Denise had told herself that it never bothered her before but now...

Darrel, the first, and so far, only one to have lost everything, tried to look blasé as he strove, in vain, to hide his most unimpressive stiffy. Denise and the others had been polite enough not to laugh. Things had reached the most interesting juncture. Darius was down to a pair of well-filled boxer briefs. Leo had made a poor choice in underwear, shapeless boxers adorned with red lipstick kisses. When the entire room snickered at them Leo explained that they were from an old girlfriend.

"You should have tossed those when the relationship ended, pal," teased Stanley who still retained his trousers.

"Hey, they are comfortable, and they were my last clean pair!"

"OMG! Too much information, Leo!" stated Claire with a giggle.

Diane appreciated that her sister had broken the tension a bit. With the loss of her garter belt. She or her sister's tits could be on view with this next hand.

"Aces high!" exclaimed Leo as he turned his cards over.

All eyes were on Denise.

"Don't you think this has gone far enough?" she ventured.

"I wasn't given that option!" barked Darrell.

"He's right you know. Darrell didn't chicken out. Let's see 'em, sis!" taunted Claire.

"Yeah, show us the goods!" demanded Stanley. His plea was rapidly seconded.

"Diane rolled her eyes heavenward as her hands reached behind her back to open the catch on her brassiere. While she worked, Darius hummed, "Here Comes the Bride," breaking up everybody, including Diane.

Briefly, she held the bra against her chest and then placed it, using both hands in the center of the table.

"Oh, Momma!" was heard as were wolf whistles and cheers. All the groomsmen were astounded at just how nice the bared breasts of their best friend's wife were. They were firm and medium-sized, half oranges with light brown areolas and chance pink, pencil eraser-type nipples. Every guy envied the fact that Chet would spend the rest of his life waking up to those babies every morning. The fact that they got to see them first after the wedding instead of the groom was a delicious irony lost on none of them. When Denise had proposed this fake abduction, only Leo had agreed with her that Chet would bounce all over creation in a fit of panic. The rest had him pegged as solving the problem immediately. There really are two kinds of smarts in the world, aren't there, the groomsmen all had to conclude.

**

"Can't you go any faster, driver?" Inquired Chet testily.

"Look, buddy! If you can produce a magic wand and vaporize this traffic, I'd be happy to!"

**

Once Claire's bra was added to the pile of clothing in the middle of the table, the assembled groomsmen could not decide which sister had the better rack. Claire's were a bit smaller but no less lovely. Darius lost his boxer briefs, revealing a magnificent uncut, erect rod and making him the second player out. Denise took several sidelong, lustful leers. Claire openly ogled the handsome black man. Stanley finally lost his trousers. Every round from this point on would result in someone being totally naked.

Leo lost his garish undershorts.

"Thank God!" cried Stanley. An opinion shared by everyone else.

"Woo Ho!" cried the guys when Claire had to cede her crisp white panties, revealing a neatly trimmed blonde bush which proved that the Bride's sister came by her dirty blonde locks naturally. She flushed crimson for a moment and then smiled as she returned to her seat. She made no effort to cover herself.

"Go get 'em, sis!" she whispered to Denise as she leaned over and placed her lips against her ear.

The final hand was dealt. Either Stanley or Denise would be the ultimate winner. Neither player received a decent hand, but when the final reveal came, Denise owned three fours and Stanley turned over three sixes.

"Damn!" cried the new bride.

"Dun-Dun-Dun!" sassed Derrell.

The beautiful newlywed stood, winked, and withdrew her knickers. The guy's earlier suspicions proved correct; Denise's attractive slit had been completely waxed!

The groomsmen who had merely envied Chet before, now nearly hated him for landing such a complete and total package.

"Well," said Stanley after a long appreciative leer, "I seem to be the owner of quite a collection of clothing and am the current emperor of the room. Shots all the way around!"

Darius circled the table filling shot glasses with vodka. Everyone downed them at once.

"One more round," ordered Stanley.

The result of the shots combined with the earlier rum and cokes goosed Diane and Claire well over the tipsy line.

"I propose that the women earn their clothing back, by sitting on each guy's lap and exchanging a long lingering kiss with the owner of said lap."

"Guys!" protested Denise.

"Hey, new bride. When Chet gets here, do you want him to find you naked?"

The guys refilled the chairs about the table.

Diane rolled her eyes but settled herself on Stanley's lap. She noted his bulging manhood through his undershorts pressing against her pert little bum and did her best to ignore it. Truth be told, the game of strip poker, combined with the anticipation of the inception of her honeymoon, had made her quite horny. The kiss she exchanged with Stanley Denise found quite stimulating. She reluctantly broke it off and slid onto Darius's lap. The large black man shifted his friend's bride so that his large cock slid into her cunny. Denise was both shocked and delighted. He felt very good inside her. This kiss was even better than the previous one. Next, she was on Darrell's lap. The pudgy lad's lap was not much fun to sit on. He was rock hard, but his dinky wiener posed no threat to entering Denise. His kiss was tentative and awkward. Denise recalled the rumor, confirmed by Chet, that made its way around the rehearsal dinner, that the pasty white redhead had taken his sister to the senior prom!