This unexpected sequel to Poker Night: All In was commissioned by ProperDegenerate and written by Vanessa Foxe (breedorbebred).
Author's Note
: This story contains elements of Texas Hold'em (which I researched for the story but have never played) and a woman sleeping with someone other than her husband. If either of these elements are disturbing for you, I suggest you read something else. You have been warned.
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A noise that was probably speech but was too heavily distorted by the noise in my ear brought my head up. I flicked the switch and the blow dryer cycled down into silence.
"Pardon?" I shouted in the direction of the bathroom door.
The door opened a moment later, and I straightened from my hunched position to smile at Phil. "I said they'll be here in a bit less than an hour, love."
I ran some quick maths in my head to figure out my timing. My long, blonde hair was still pretty damp, and I'd be drying and straightening it for at least another ten minutes. If I rushed my makeup a bit, I could get it done in maybe... forty-five minutes? My brows creased as I decided I would have to make do with a quick job, instead of taking my time with it. My original itinerary would have left me with a bit more time for my hair and at least another fifteen or twenty minutes for doing my face, but that was out the window.
"Oh, don't you go giving me those eyes," I playfully chided my husband as his gaze drifted slowly down my body from where he stood in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom. I couldn't blame him for being interested-- I was fresh out of the shower and wearing nothing but a towel, after all. If he hadn't taken a moment to ogle me, I might have been offended. "It's your fault I'm already running late."
"A beautiful girl like you deserves more than a rushed quickie, Jess." He flashed me that impish smile that had made me fall for him in the first place. "And it was your idea to raise your hips up for twenty minutes afterwards."
"I wanted to give your sperm their best shot," I retorted, my cheeks warming enough to tell me there would be a rosy blush spreading on the smooth, pale skin of my cheeks. "It seemed only fair. You know, just in case something happens tonight."
Phil's eyes flicked from my face to the tops of my rounded breasts where they weren't quite covered by the towel, then over to the dress that I'd chosen for tonight and left on a hanger on the bathroom door. He gave a snort of disbelief and we shared a look laced with meaning in the way that only a well-established couple could do. We both knew there was no "just in case" tonight. Not with that dress.
Neither of us felt the need to state the obvious, so Phillip settled for leaning in to press his lips against my cheek for a moment. I didn't even complain this time when his faint stubble, artfully trimmed instead of shaved off, tickled my cheek. "Don't leave me waiting too long, Jessica," he whispered before sashaying off.
I rolled my eyes at my husband's back before bending forward and turning the blow dryer back on.
I dried my hair and worked in my post-shower products in record time, then pulled the dress on before starting on my foundation. I had finished my concealer layer, applied some gold-tinted eyeshadow that made my blue eyes look even brighter, and was halfway through putting on eyeliner when the doorbell rang downstairs. I paused for a moment to listen to the faint noise of the door opening and closing downstairs, and the low tones of male voices.
The doorbell rang again when I was finished with my eyes and starting on lipstick, and I figured this time it was probably James. He wasn't as over-eager as Brandon, but certainly wasn't as laid-back as the last of the guys.
Phil came upstairs to check on me one last time, which worked out nicely for me since I needed his help to zip up the back of the tight red dress I'd picked for tonight. It hugged my sides tight enough to highlight my curves and show off the stomach that I managed to keep toned and flat.
My stomach's tightness was the end result of hitting the gym four days a week for the past five years or so. I had realised fairly early into our relationship that while my Phil was fairly sexual, I was voracious. Insatiable. I'd learned to direct that excess physical energy into working out, to keep from going absolutely insane with horniness on a day-to-day. The rest of that energy I brought home to our bedroom, where Phil was always willing to try new things and keep me entertained.
New things like our crazy New Year's party, or our occasional bouts of swinging-- including his on-again, off-again trysts with one of his female coworkers. Not to mention that poker game we'd had three months ago.
We had both gone into that night knowing something sexual was going to happen, but I had let myself get a bit carried away. I'd ignored Phil's boundaries, and it had put a strain on our relationship. But after ten happy years together, we had a rock-solid foundation, and we managed to talk our way through the problem.
That explosive night had been the culmination of a lot of factors, not least of all my unsatisfied desires mixed with a growing feeling of "baby fever". My kid sister had just given birth to her daughter a month before, and I'd gotten so caught up in the rush of hormones and desire that I'd been willing to have unprotected sex without discussing it with Phillip first. Fortunately, we'd come out of that game of "sperm roulette" safe and sound. If anything, after discussing it all, we were more confident and secure in our relationship than ever before.
In our talks over the last few months, we'd learned a few things. The first was that I was thoroughly taken with baby fever. I had always wanted kids, and now that I was into my thirties, I was becoming increasingly aware that the biological clock was ticking, as it were. If it was going to happen, it needed to happen sooner rather than later.
The second thing we had learned was that my husband was very, very into the idea of me being pregnant. He liked kids, and we both knew he'd be an excellent dad, but mostly he was excited about the idea of seeing me pregnant. The thought that I might have ended up pregnant after I'd let Michael fuck me without any protection and blow his load right in my fertile pussy... for the next month, Phil had matched my insatiable sexual energy.
The two of us were in agreement that it was time for me to get pregnant. Phil was eager to see my body "swell around the baby growing in it," as he had put it, but he was less picky about who exactly was the father. He wouldn't have minded if it had been Michael who knocked me up.
All of this led to a post-coital discussion where he'd coyly suggested I join him and "the boys" for another poker night.
When Phillip had offered to let me plan the date for this special game, I had spent almost a week doing math and double-checking my cycle tracking app body before giving him an answer. Now, as Phil and I walked to the front door to let the last of our guests in, I was almost vibrating with excitement-- tonight was the night!
