Sitting on her bed with her hands in her lap, Cindy Kole anxiously waited for her daddy, the embers within her loins simmering in anticipation. It was her nineteenth birthday and while she didn't know what he had planned, the outfit he'd picked out told her it wasn't dinner and a movie. At first glance the frilly, white dress with its mid-thigh hem, high collar, and full-length puffy sleeves appeared innocent, even dollish. But indistinguishable among its ruffles and lace were four ribbons that held a section at its front which, when removed, allowed unhindered access to her pert, B-cup breasts. On her legs were a pair of sheer, white stockings with elastic cuffs hugging her thighs, and on her feet were black shoes with gold buckles. Other than these items she wore nothing else; no bra or panties. Adding to the outfit's dollish presentation, her raven-black hair was done into springy curls that barely touched her shoulders, her bangs were held back by a single ribbon with a bow, and her innocent features and bright eyes were untarnished by make-up.
A gentle rap on her door made Cindy's heart begin to race.
"You ready, Sweetheart?" Mr. Kole asked, stepping into the room. He was a tall man with rugged good looks, wearing jeans and a dress shirt that fit his firm physique well.
"Yes, Daddy," she whispered, her voice quivering with excitement.
"Come on then," he smiled, taking her hand.
Rising from the bed, her heart beating faster and faster, Cindy allowed him to lead her out of the room and along the short hall, then down the stairs to their home's first floor where he headed for the rec-room at the back of the house. Following him through the door, Cindy's racing heart leapt into her throat when she saw how the room had been rearranged . . . and the three men in it.
The pool table had been moved from the center of the room to against one wall. In its place was now a mattress, covered by a soft sheet and a couple pillows. The two couches and easy chairs had been moved to encircling it with a few feet between them and the mattress. The only thing that hadn't been moved was the poker table, it still sat off to the one side near the bar.
On suddenly weak legs, Cindy followed her father over to the table where his friends sat, rocks glasses in hand. Standing beside her, he continued holding her hand while resting his other hand at the small of her back.
"Sweetheart, you know everyone," he said by way of introduction.
She did. Each of the men had been to the house on numerous occasions, and she'd been to their homes as well. Over the last years, ever since her mother had passed, she'd often been her father's date at social functions, a situation that had somehow in the last year, led to their current . . . relationship.
But she'd only ever been platonic with the men. In fact, she'd only ever been with her father in that way. Yet standing there . . . seeing the way the men were looking at her . . . she knew that was going to change tonight. Her father had talked about sharing her with his friends, but she'd never thought he'd meant it. Now she did. The idea made her nerves tingle excitedly and sent tropical breezes wafting across her embers.
"Gentlemen, the evening's entertainment as promised. A darling little lady to be used by each and every one of us until we are finished with her." He said, confirming her suspicion.
A sudden wave of shyness made Cindy lower her face as color rose to her cheeks. Looking at the men through the tops of her eyes, her heart fluttered within her chest. The men were all well-built and nice-looking, and she'd had a little crush on each one of them over the years. Something her daddy had obviously picked up on. Mr. Grant was the most handsome, his own rugged good looks enhanced by his sparkling eyes. Mr. Craig had the most powerfully build, sporting the slimmest waist and broadest chest and shoulders. And Mr. Stone had a gentle warmth to him that made her feel very comfortable in his presence.
"And now to go over the rules once more, mainly so Cindy can have an idea of how this will work," her father announced. "We're going to play poker to determine in what order and in what ways we get to enjoy her. While the winner of the first hand has his fun, the rest of us will continue playing. Whoever wins the hand that's being played when he finishes goes next. And so on. As for which of her charms the winner is entitled to, that will be determined by the size of the pot; the bigger the pot, the more intimate the concession."
Listening to the plan, thinking how she would be a reward for each of the men in turn, the heated breezes fanned Cindy's embers into smoldering briquettes of desire and she swayed slightly under their gazes. She wondered what her father meant by the size of the pot determining the concession, but she didn't ask.
"Out of deference to the spirit of the game," he continued. "I will concede the first two wins and allow the others to cut for high card if I happen to win the pot."
With that, her father led her over to the mattress where he turned to gaze down into her eyes and gently cup her chin to lift her face to him. Her shoes had low heels, but even in them he stood a foot taller than her and when he leaned down to kiss her she lifted up on her toes. As their lips gently connected a tingle raced through her.
"Kneel here and wait," he told her, after the kiss. "And return after each session."
"But how will I know what...?" she let the question trail off, too nervous to finish it.
"I'll let you know," he assured her with a smile.
As he returned to the table, she did as instructed. Kneeling on the mattress, she straightened the dress's skirt under her then settled back on her haunches and carefully smoothed out the front over her thighs.
The cards were dealt.
The game commenced.
Cindy's mind reeled with what was happening . . . what was going to happen. She wondered what these men would be doing with her . . . how they would use her body for their pleasure. Over the past months her daddy had introduced her to many sexual adventures, and she'd enjoyed every one of them. Thinking about all of the possibilities made the tropical breezes fan her embers even more while she fidgeted with the dress's skirt.
Mr. Kole had taught her how to play poker, so even being away from the table she could tell they were playing five-card stud. She wondered why all the men were staying in since odds were at least one of them had no hope of winning. Then she noticed that his friends were paying her more attention than their cards, gazing over at her with hopeful, admiring eyes.
When the hand was decided, Mr. Stone was the victor. But even as he raked in the chips he was looking at her, more interested in his other prize.
"Congrats, Brad," her father said. "That pot wasn't bad, but it could've been better. It wins you a blow-job from my beautiful daughter."
Cindy's breath caught in her throat . . . tingles rushed along her nerves with the thought of using her mouth on the man. Her daddy had taught her how to please him that way and she enjoyed the feel of his rigid cock sliding along her lips . . . caressing the little nerve-endings . . . the taste of him. Now she anxiously watched Mr. Stone get up from the table and walk over to the nearest easy chair.
While wearing the frilly dress Cindy was expected to act a certain way and she had no reason to think she should do otherwise tonight. Turning on her knees, she dropped to her hands and slowly crawled over to him. Her movements made her curls sway, the dress shift and rustle against her pert breasts and taut, little ass. She knew that it was short enough that, had anyone been behind her, they could have seen right up under it. This made her think how all of them would be seeing her by evening's end and a sudden wave of nerves washed over her.
What had her daddy said? "... to be used by each and every one of us until we are finished with her." Her mind whirled with the implications.
Then she was at the chair, looking up into Mr. Stone's lust-filled eyes.
"... until we are finished with her." The words echoed through her mind again, making her nerves simultaneously jangle with alarm and tingle with excitement.
Instinctively, she climbed up to kneel between his legs, her hands coming to rest on his thighs. As she gazed at the bulge already straining his slacks her heart raced and her lips curled into a tiny smile. The internet was a great source of information and she knew how big the average cock was. She also knew her daddy was bigger than most. And from the looks of Mr. Stone's bulge, he was too.
Raising her gaze to look up at him through the tops of her eyes, she saw him smiling down at her, his eyes sparkling. Sliding one hand up, she rubbed at the bulge through his slacks for a minute. Her daddy liked her to ask him questions at times like this, and she briefly considered doing it with Mr. Stone. But this was so new . . . so strange . . . being only the second real-live cock she would ever see . . . ever touch . . . her nerves wouldn't allow it. So she silently slid both her hands up to his belt . . . pulled it loose . . . undid it. Then she unhooked the button and drew the zipper down. With his slacks opened, she reached inside his shorts . . . her fingers wrapping around his semi-hard cock to straighten it and gently stroke. The member quickly grew stiff under her attentions, the head poking above the shorts' waistband. The sight of that bulbous head atop his thick shaft made her reflexively lick her lips, a rush of anticipation coursing through her. Wondering how different he'd taste and if she'd like it, she released his cock and brought both hands to the waistband of his slacks. As she started tugging them down he lifted himself off the chair and used his own hands to help her get his clothes down. Then, as they became a pile around his ankles, he settled back into the chair again, his fingers tensing at the edges of the armrests.
Repositioning herself, she gazed up at him through the tops of her eyes and settled one hand back on his thigh. With her other she reached for his manhood, her fingers wrapping themselves around the rigid shaft as best they could. Bringing him to her open mouth she rolled her tongue over and around his cockhead.
"Oh fuck," he groaned appreciatively, watching this.
Moving her tongue downward, she licked his entire cock a few times before returning to the head. After rolling her tongue over it a few more times she set her closed lips against the tip then slowly pushed them down onto him. Locking her lips around his shaft at the little indent below the head, she sucked on and rolled her tongue over the head, pleased to find that she did like the taste of him.
"Oh yes," he groaned with even more appreciation.
She'd noticed that the veins of his cock were more pronounced than her daddy's and as she slid her lips down his shaft the added ridges enhanced the caressing sensation along her lips' nerve-endings. Within her loins her embers began to sizzle and snap, their heat building. When his cockhead reached the entrance to her throat she paused, lifting herself higher on her knees to adjust for its trajectory. Then she continued her downward path, gradually engulfing his entire cock, a portion of it stuffing her throat.
"Oh God, yes," he moaned.
