Double or Nothing

Well, things aren't bad but they're pretty bland.  I could post about it - but I'm kind of getting sick of talking about myself - feeling a bit self centered!  So.... A bit of fiction to brighten your day?

Double or Nothing

As she looked down at her hand she wondered how she had gotten herself into this situation.  Sure, they had been friends for a long time - in fact she considered him one of her best friends.  But they had never dated, never even talked about dating, or sex, or anything.  So to be playing strip poker was crazy!

They had been just hanging out, relaxing with a group of friends.  Someone had fired up a joint and passed it around.  It was very good stuff and she was laughing and having a great time.  But one person after another had left - and now it was just the two of them, alone at his house.  She was thinking she should leave (how had she ended up being the last guest?) when he suggested a game of cards.  He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and the two of them started playing poker at the kitchen table.  "You know how to play poker?" he asked dubiously.  "Of course I do!  I happen to be very good at poker!" she exaggerated.  (She knew that pairs were good and that a run of cards of the same suit meant something... but she certainly wasn't going to let him know she had no idea what a royal flush was!)  "Okay, okay," he laughed.  "Then you won't mind if we play for stakes?"

Stakes?  She didn't get paid again until next week and she only had about $5 in her jeans.  "Um, how much are we talking?" she hedged.

"Oh, I wouldn't gamble with a lady," he smirked, "but I would be willing to bet an article of clothing that my hand can beat yours."

"Strip poker?" she asked laughing, thinking he was teasing her.

"Yep," he said, watching her carefully.

There was something about the way he looked at her, something that challenged her, dared her.

"You're on!" she said as she began to shuffle.

She only had on socks, jeans, a sweater and her underwear to begin with.  He had already claimed her socks and jeans before she got lucky with a pair of kings.  He pulled off his shirt and she allowed herself the pleasure of looking at him as the shirt rose over his head.  He was ripped, really well-built and she wondered that she had never noticed before.  He wasn't bulging with muscles, but the long lean torso was muscled and she watched the play of the muscles across his chest and down his stomach as his arms reached overhead.  She greedily slid her gaze down, following the fine line that led down past the button on his jeans.  Her eyes rested on his crotch and she wondered....

She became aware that he was looking back at her.  She met his bold blue eyes and felt herself flush.  "Get a grip," she told herself crossly as she looked back at her cards, "it's just a game."

He watched her from under hooded eyes as she looked at her cards, biting her lower lip.  How long had he waited to bite that lip? he wondered.  He had enjoyed feeling her eyes on him, enjoyed watching her flush when she realized he had seen.  He had been biding his time for years now.  There was something so... raw... in the connection they had.  They had been tiptoeing around this for years.  Either she was involved with someone, or he was, or he had worried that acting on impulse might hurt their friendship.  He kept waiting for her to make a move, but she never did.  Tonight though, tonight all bets were off.

He lay down his straight and she shot him a look that was almost a glare as she lay her pair of two's on the table.  "Do I get to choose?" he teased her.  She thought about what she had left.  What should she take off?  Her sweater reached down to her hips, with a bit of tugging she might be able to keep some dignity.  "No," she said, "ladies choice," as she slipped her panties off while tugging her sweater lower.  She folded them neatly and set them on the table.

He had to laugh as she scowled at the pile in front of him.  If he was judging right she only had the sweater and bra left.  It was time to make his move.  "How about we go double or nothing?" he asked in a friendly way as he began to shuffle.  "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"If you win, I lose two items, if I win, you do," he said.

She thought about it briefly.  She had a bad run so far, she was due for a good hand - and even if she lost, that would mean game over.  "Okay," she agreed, eager to win and take some of his clothing for her own.

As she looked down at her hand she wondered how she had gotten herself into this situation.  She had a seven, a two, a five, a nine and a jack.  She discarded and drew - great, now she had a three, a two, an ace, a nine and a jack.  Maybe, just maybe...

"Why don't we make this more interesting," she purred.

He raised his eyebrows at her, "What do you have in mind?"

"If I win you have to do something for me, and if you win I have to do something for you," she said, thinking hastily.  She wanted to bet enough so that he would call it off, she wanted him to think her hand was way better than in really was.

"Like what?" he asked.

Damn it!  He didn't sound worried, just intrigued.

"If I win, you'll be my slave for the rest of the day," she smiled wickedly, thinking of making him wash her car or make her dinner.

"If I win, you'll be my slave then?" he asked, with a gleam in his eye that she did not see.  "Okay, I call!"

Shit!  She lay her cards down slowly, keeping the nine behind the ace.  "Pair of aces," she bluffed.  He grinned at her and touched her cards with a finger so that they spread out.  "Really?  You would cheat me?" he asked in a shocked voice.  He lay down his cards, "Full house."

Crap, crap crap!  She stood up, "Okay, you win," she sighed as she reached for her clothes.  He put his hand over them before she could grab them.  "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.  "Putting on my jeans so I can vacuum, or cook, or whatever," she answered.

"Oh, I think we have a misunderstanding," he said coming to stand behind her.  "I won, which means I get your clothes and you are my slave for the rest of the day."

He lifted the edge of her sweater and began to pull it over her head.  Her protests were muffled as the heavy sweater went over her face and he held it there while he snapped his fingers in the middle of her back.  The bra opened like magic at his touch and she felt his finger trace her spine.  He finished pulling her sweater off and stepped forward so that his body was pressed against the length of hers.   Damn it!  She forgot how much taller he was then her, she barely came up to his chin.  She could feel the roughness of his jeans against the small of her back and the smoothness of his skin against her shoulders as he slipped her bra straps down her arms and pulled it free.

She stayed facing away from him, too embarrassed to turn as she began to complain.  "I can't exactly cook naked!" she fumed.  "Who said anything about cooking?" he asked.

"Well you said I had to be your slave for the rest of the day!" she shot back.  She felt his body tremble against hers as he laughed.  "Actually, you were the one who came up with the slave for the day - I just won!" he laughed.

He stepped back and gathered her hair up.  He had always wanted to run his fingers through her hair, she had so much of it.  He pulled it up on her head into a ponytail and fisted his hand there.  "Get on your knees," he commanded.

She jumped at the sound of his voice.  He sounded so... stern.  Well, she could take a joke, she would just play along, she thought as she lowered herself to her knees.  His grip on her hair did not loosen, if anything it got tighter as he used her hair to keep her upright and very straight.

"You agree you are my slave for the day?"

"Yes."

"As my slave, you will not object to anything I say or do?  Until this time tomorrow you will serve me willingly and do exactly as I say?" he asked.

She felt a rush of excitement run through her at the thought.  Of course he didn't really mean it, he was just teasing her, testing her...but the thought of him using her.... "Yes," she agreed.

"Turn around," he commanded.

She tried to stand up but he used her hair to keep her on her knees.  She turned on her knees awkwardly and realized that her face was on level with his crotch.  She was face to face with the bulge in  his jeans, and suddenly had to swallow hard.

"What are your hard lines?" he asked.

"What?" she asked.  What were hard lines?

He reached down and tipped her face towards his.  He studied her eyes and then his gaze dropped down to her mouth.  She doesn't know how to play, he realized.  He looked into her eyes again and then looked at the flush of her cheeks and the way her lips were slightly parted.  But she wants to play, he thought and excitement surged through him.  He never thought that he would be her first.  All the signs of submission were there, he had been watching her for years, agonizing over the thoughts of her with different masters.  The realization that she was untutored, that he could mold her... his cock was so hard it ached.


What happens next?  Well of course we all want to know what happens next!  I need some names for my characters though! I can see them in my mind's eye, he has dark hair, he is tall with an athletic build but not overly muscled (think runner's build).  He has bright blue eyes and a wicked, wicked smile.  She has thick maple sugar and honey hair, curly with a curvy build (36,26,36), nice lips and blue/green eyes.  Please leave suggestions below - names are always the hardest part for me!  Oh, and I promise it gets much, much better!