Table Stakes 1

My fiancé, Paul, and I were having a small holiday. A break before returning to the toil and trauma of organising a wedding. A long weekend was available and we'd booked a cabin in a camp site up in the hills. The first day was just fun and games, taking a long walk in the woods, playing games of various sorts in the cabin. I won't bore you with details of the games. Let's just say they left me happy and smiling.

Sunday morning we got up a little late and had another hike, returning to the camp grounds and having lunch at the café there before going out again. That evening, after dinner at the café, Paul got to discussing football with some of the other men. A little later he told me that they were going to have a game of poker. Did I object if he sat in?

Well, I was a little disappointed, but I wasn't going to object. I did check that the game was for table stakes only, no IOU's permitted. Knowing Paul wasn't the best poker player in the world I extracted a certain amount of money from his wallet before the game started. I don't mind him losing a bit but I would object if he left us broke. Then I wandered back to our cabin and watched a little TV.

A couple of hours later I was surprised to find Paul wasn't back. His usual poker mates would have cleaned him out by now. Then there was a knock on the door. I answered to find a stranger standing there.

"Are you Melissa?" he asked, and at my nod, continued. "Paul wants to know if you could visit him at the game. It's in cabin three. He's been doing OK but I think he wants you there for a little extra luck."

I was amused but headed on over to cabin three. I knocked and obeyed the yelled command to come in. There was only Paul and one other player left in the game, the others apparently having lost and left. There was quite a tidy sum on the table. Paul rushed over to meet me.

"Ah, Melissa. That's Travis and I'm about to take him to the cleaners," he said, speaking quietly. "I want you to come and place your hand on the table to bring me luck. I need you here for this last hand. It's an all or nothing thing."

I shrugged and moved over to the table with him as he took his seat. He took my hand and pressed it onto the table, hand flat down.

"Just stay like that," he told me and then turned to Travis. "Well," he demanded. "Are you going to meet me or drop out?"

Travis was looking at me thoughtfully, nodding slightly to himself.

"If you're sure you want to do this," he said, shrugging when Paul nodded.

He took the rest of the cash in front of him and pushed it into the centre of the table. Paul had started with about two hundred dollars. With five players initially that meant that there was probably a thousand dollars on the table. Worth winning. Paul certainly thought so, and from the smirk on his face he thought he'd already won.

He flicked his cards down one at a time. A two, followed by an ace, followed by another ace, and another, and a lovely fourth. Four aces and rather hard to beat. Even I knew that. With a big smirk Paul started to rake in the kitty only to stop when Travis said, "Hold it." He didn't say it loudly but you could tell he meant it. Paul sort of froze and settled back in his chair.

Travis turned his cards, also one at a time, starting with the nine of hearts and going straight through to the king of hearts, a straight flush and just a little better than four of a kind, even if they were aces.

Paul looked at the cards and jumped to his feet. "Fuck," he yelled and went storming out of the cabin. I grimaced and turned to go after him but Travis reached out and caught my wrist.

"Table stakes, sweetheart," he said quietly, "and your hand was on the table as part of the stakes."

"What?" What the hell was he on about?

"Didn't he tell you what he was doing?"

"Just that he was taking you to the cleaners and wanted me touching the table for luck," I told him. "Ah, you can feel free to let loose of my arm anytime now."

"At the last round of betting Paul had no money left to raise me and he really wanted me to go all in so he could scoop the pool. He offered to go and get some extra money but as we said at the start, table stakes. So he asked if he could fetch you and use you as an extra stake. I said sure, as long as you were on the table. Your hand resting on the table counted. You're part of the kitty. He was really supposed to let you know what you were agreeing to."

"You're saying you own me? In your dreams, pal. They freed the slaves, you know."

"Oh, it's not that bad. Even your beloved fiancé wasn't game to put you on the slave block. Not for the extra hundred or so that I'd put in to call him. No, he's just sold me your loving services for an hour."

"Well you can just forget it!" I snapped. "I'm out of here."

Without letting go of my wrist Travis rose to his feet. I had the sickening feeling that Paul had made a major miscalculation and that I was in deep doo-doo. Travis was huge. Even his muscles had muscles. Squished down behind the table he hadn't looked like much. Standing up, looking annoyed, and looming over me, he looked like god help me.

"It is," he said softly, "a matter of principle to me that I always collect what I'm owed. If I think I'm being stiffed I tend to break things. Little things like arms and legs. Fortunately, there is no need for me to worry in this instance as you're right here and I'm collecting."

I decided that I didn't really care about the state of Paul's arms and legs at that moment. I tried to pull my wrist out of Travis's grip and it was like wrestling with a gorilla. He didn't even seem to notice. What he did do was put an arm around my waist and casually pick me up. There I was, tucked under his arm, looking at his backside while he calmly peeled of my tights and panties.

Then he switched arms so my upper half was now in front of him and he was pulling off my t-shirt and bra. Using all the finesse of a charging rhinoceros he stripped me, taking less than a minute for me to go from dressed to naked. After that he put me back down on my feet, looking me up and down and admiring what he'd unwrapped.

Still holding me he managed to drop his own trousers just using one hand. I hate to say it but when he did that the oddest thought crossed my mind. I found myself wondering if the penis was a muscle and if so, what exercises did he do to make it swell like that? Yes, yes, I know. The penis isn't a muscle and doesn't grow with exercise but sometimes you just have to wonder and this was one of those times.

The second thought that crossed my mind was rather frightening. Was he going to use that thing on me? I looked at it and then I looked at him.

"You wouldn't dare," I said, but I didn't believe it for a moment. That cock showed all the signs of being ready for immediate action.

With a casual strength that I found to be quite impressive Travis managed to have me leaning forward across the table with no problems. That's not to say I didn't try to stop him. I did, but he just ignored me, neither my verbal of physical protests seeming to register. With me leaning over the table I thought he'd hop straight to it but no, he was a gentleman. He wanted to make sure I was ready to receive him.

With one hand in the middle of my back, holding me in position, his other hand was exploring and massaging, working at getting my pussy ready for the upcoming assault.

"I thought about moving this over to the bed," he told me, a fat finger slipping between my lips and probing quite delicately for such a big man, "but then I thought better of it. I mean, we were playing for table stakes so let's keep it on the table."

I could feel him working on my pussy and I was squirming about, trying to pull away. His cock was now nudging me, pressing against my slit, trying to move my lips apart to let it in. I was almost panicking, thinking I was about to be split in half by the brutal rush of an outsize organ. I damn near screamed when he eased my lips further apart and his erection started poking past them.

I was surprised to find that he didn't just push valiantly forward, eager to get under way. He sort of eased his way past my lips and then leaned into me. He wasn't thrusting into me, just leaning his cock firmly against me, letting my passage yield as it wanted to. That's the way it continued, him leaning firmly into me, my passage considering the situation and then giving way just a little bit more. I knew it was one of these situations where it didn't matter how much you yielded, he'd be back for just a little more until he had everything he wanted, and right now he wanted me.

And he took me. He took his time but he also took me, his cock eventually stretching me and filling me and letting me know in no uncertain terms that it was there. I will admit I wasn't a virgin but I'd never been so acutely aware of having a big fat sausage taking up residence inside me.

His arms had circled me, his hands closing upon my breasts, holding them. He was ready and I was, I suppose, reluctantly ready for what was about to happen. Not that I'd be cooperating. He'd find he had a most unwilling partner. So what was about to happen?

Nothing, it turned out. He just stayed like that. Holding my breasts with his cock jammed full up me and he just stood there, not moving. I waited. What else could I do? He was in me. I knew it and it seemed to me I knew it even more each passing moment. His hands were holding my breasts. I could feel my nipples peaking and pushing against his palms. I'll swear I could feel my breasts swelling to better fill his hands and he did nothing.

I wasn't going to say anything. I wasn't the one inflicting himself on an unwilling partner. I was the hard done by victim and I wasn't going to speak. I wasn't even going to scream, although I could feel that urge getting stronger every moment.

"Do much cooking?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Cooking. Do you do much?"

"Some. What's that got to do with anything."

"It's just that with some things you have to bring them to a slow boil," Travis said, "before you get on with preparing the main dish. I think you've just about reached that stage."

With that his hands squeezed my breasts and his cock pulled back and thrust forward forcefully. I'd gasped when he squeezed my breasts and found myself automatically pushing to meet his cock as it withdrew and returned so firmly. After that he was driving into me steadily while I was responding automatically, lifting my hips to help drive myself onto his cock, taking it deep with each thrust.

I was also furious with him. Now, too late, I worked out what he'd been doing with his slow boil. Holding himself deep within me like that my body had first adjusted to cope with him and then readied itself to be served by him, tricking me into wanting what he was doing. So much for my initial intentions of just suffering in silence.

He very quickly settled into a nice steady rhythm and I was with him for every bit of it. I couldn't help myself. He was bringing me pleasure and my body responded, blossoming under his ardent attention. His hands were playing with my breasts, wreaking havoc, while his cock seemed to be forever driving forward, plunging into me.

Travis quite expertly reduced me to helpless mush, unable to do anything but respond to him. My arousal was complete, the excitement within me building with each thrust. I was gasping, a mindless wench being used by a conquering hero, and I was loving it. (For now. I'd wake up eventually.)

He abruptly swung into his endgame, his cock coming in harder and faster. I had a brief moment of wondering if the table was nailed to the floor because surely he should have pushed me and it right across the cabin the way he was hitting me. I climaxed, my whole body shaking with the force of it. From the way he was moving against me he was climaxing as well, having his fun, claiming his winnings in full.

I tidied myself up, furious and indignant over what had happened. Travis seemed to find my indignation humorous, which just increased the fury I felt even more. I stalked out of the cabin and back to mine, almost knocking the door off its hinges when I blasted through it.

"Listen, sweetheart, I can explain," Paul began, and I hit him.

My dad would have been proud of me. Cock your hand back, curl your fingers in to protect them, and punch through your target, using the heel of your hand to deliver the blow.

Paul went over backwards, wailing.

"You've broken my nose, you silly bitch," he yowled.

"I doubt it. I hit too high. Still, with a bit of luck you'll have a decent black-eye. You can sleep on the floor tonight. If you try to come anywhere near me I'll see if I really can break your nose. And shut up. I don't want to hear it."

I had an early night but as you can guess I didn't sleep too well. I got up at the crack of dawn and left the cabin, wandering around the grounds. I was walking along head down when someone bumped into me.

"Be careful," I snapped, not even looking up, but my arm was caught before I could move on.

"I was just standing there when you walked into me," Travis said, smiling at me. "Come along. You look like you need to talk."

He half guided, half dragged me, to a bench under some trees, a little way back in the woods. He sat down and pulled me down onto his lap.

"He's not the man you thought he was, is he?" he said softly and I shook my head.

"How could he do that? And for just a stupid bet. If his hand had been a winner he still would have won plenty from what was on the table without dragging me into it."

"He's a poor gambler. They always have to push the limits. A good gambler would have called a lot earlier, maybe not maximising his win, but not losing everything, either. Paul seems to be an all or nothing man and he's not good enough to make it all so he generally winds up with nothing and blames it on luck."

That struck a chord with me. I remember Paul going to the races and gloating about how he was winning, only to come home with nothing. I sat there on Travis's lap, saying nothing. What was there that I could say? Actually, there was one question I could ask.

"What are you doing?"

"Can't you tell? I'm taking your panties down."

"Well, yes, I can see that, but why? Stop it."

"I have to take them down because they'd be in the way when I take you," Travis said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "I see no reason why I should stop doing it."

With that he swung me to my feet and pushed my panties right down so they were pooled around my ankles.

"Just what do you think you're playing at?" I demanded.

That question was followed up with a quick, "Oh my god. Put that thing away," as he calmly unzipped and pulled his erection out into the dawn's early light.

He reached for me, pulling me closer, his hands up under my dress and cupping my bottom.

"Come along," he coaxed me. "One leg either side of me and you can sit comfortably."

"I'm not sitting on that," I said, speaking most definitely. "You made me pay Paul's table stakes but that's it. I don't owe you anything."

"Did I say you did? No, I did not. This is just because I want you and you need a friendly soul to hold you and soothe you. I can't think of a better way to be soothed."

His hands had tightened, pulling me toward him and I was now standing there, straddling his legs, with his erection rearing up between mine.

"Are you mad? We're out in public. If anyone comes past they'll see that thing and you'll be in trouble. Put it away."

"They won't see it if you're sitting on it," Travis pointed out. "All they'll see is a pretty girl sitting on a man's lap. No harm in that."

"Except you'd be bouncing me up and down on that thing. As if they wouldn't notice something like that."

"Well, if they did I'm sure they'd be too polite to say anything."

He sat there waiting. I tried to pull back but his hands on my bottom held me in place. I couldn't just stand there. Someone would be bound to come along and see us. I gave a groan and lifted one leg over the bench, scowling as Travis helped hold me in position as I finished up straddling him, legs around him, his cock rearing up between my legs, pressing firmly against my pussy.

His hands were still cupping my bottom and now he lifted me a few inches, giving him room to adjust his position so he was now pressing against a more specific part of my pussy. (OK. Maybe he had to lift more than a few inches, but the result was the same.) His hands relaxed a little and I found myself settling down onto him. My hands were on his shoulders, helping me lift up slightly. I had no intention of dropping down onto him with any sort of speed. If I had to be skewered it would be at my own pace, thank you very much.

Skewered is exactly what I was. I can now imagine the feeling of those poor devils put to the stake, feeling themselves being impaled and knowing they couldn't stop it. That was me, slowly impaled, but with the knowledge that he would stop at a certain point. It just seemed to take a while to reach that point.

I guess it wasn't all that long before I found myself sliding up and down his shaft. Down was easy. Relax and sink down, feeling him pushing up into me. Up was harder. Arms around his neck to give me a grip, legs flexing as I tried to push myself up along that cock, not helped by the fact that I knew Travis was quietly laughing at my efforts.

After a while Travis took pity on me, taking over the job of moving me. His hips seemed to flex and lift me, his cock dragging out of me, then he'd do something and he would be driving in again. I was breathing hard, and not just because I was getting some unaccustomed exercise. I was hot and getting hotter and Travis was working at stirring up the fires.

I was almost whimpering towards the end. The excitement was getting to me. It was too much for me and it had to end. I was so tremendously relieved when Travis rose to his feet, jammed my bottom against the nearest table, and started beating me to death. I didn't last long. A few good hard stokes and I lost it, shuddering and shaking against him, for the second time in two days.

He was sitting again, me on his lap. He'd disengaged and zipped up his trousers but I was awfully aware that my panties were lying on the ground next to us. I was going to have to get those back on pretty fast.

"So tell me," he said. "Are you a good gambler or a bad gambler?"

"What do you mean?"

"A good gambler knows to throw away a bad hand. A bad gambler will hang on, hoping something will change and lose big. Consider that and make up your own mind."

He stood up, setting me back on my feet. Dropping a quick kiss on the top of my head he ambled off. I grabbed my panties and scooted back to my own cabin.

Paul, damn him, was still asleep. You'd have thought that he'd have had the decency to have a restless night. I packed my bag while waiting for him to wake up and slung it in my car. I was not staying at this campsite for the rest of the day, that was for certain. I stood in the cabin doorway, willing Paul to wake up so we could go.

Some stray thoughts wandered past. I'd just put my stuff in my car, because we'd driven up here in my car, even though Paul had insisted on doing the driving. Paul hadn't actually explained what had happened to his car. I know he had one a week ago, and now he seemed to be vehicle-less. When I'd asked him, he'd changed the subject. I'd also paid the camping fees, with Paul forgetting to bring extra money with him. Not the first time he'd been broke unexpectedly.

Was I a good gambler or a bad gambler? The question nagged at me. I was, I decided, a good gambler, and Paul was proving to be a bad hand. A very bad hand if yesterday was an example. Nodding slowly to myself I decided not to wait for Paul to wake up. I got in my car and headed homeward. I had some arrangements that I would have to cancel.