Poke Her Night

My first attempt at an erotic story, I hope you like it.

It takes place in the 60's, before STD's could be fatal.

I couldn't believe my husband would even suggest such a thing. Ryan and I had been married a little over 10 years. We met in college and were married just after graduation. Ryan had always had a poker night. Back then, it was literally penny ante, with a quarter limit on bets. In those days, the worst that would happen would be for the big looser to give up twenty dollars. He still plays poker every other Friday night. Over the years, some of the group members have dropped out and others have taken their place. And, apparently, I found out, the stakes went up as the guys got more prosperous. The other thing to change was that while the guys played poker, the wives came along and took over the TV room to watch chick flicks that the guys would never put up with. Of course the hostess would supply corn nuts and beer nuts and beer for the guys and more civilized snacks for the women.

On the night in question, we were hosting. I wasn't sure it was a good thing for Ryan to even be playing poker considering that his business was in a slump. He had a contracting business and we were frankly having a little trouble paying subcontractors; we used all our personal liquid assets to do so. But he insisted that poker night was his only stress relieving activity and it wouldn't be fair to the group to drop out on our host night. He was right, he worked all day and most evenings he spent writing proposals and working up bids for jobs. He often worked weekends to get jobs done on schedule. Well, when he finished his current job, we'd be solvent again even to the point of taking back the loan we made the business.

Over the past few years, the group had settled into the same six guys and all of us wives had gotten to be close friends. The one thing that marred the whole situation was that Gary's wife Lynn had been killed in a car accident six months earlier. We all tried to be there for Gary, but in the end, he seemed to be in a permanent funk. Who could blame him? We all missed Lynn and Gary at the poker nights and finally, I called him and persuaded him as a special favor to me to come that fateful night.

Now it wasn't unusual that if a player had had a particularly bad night that the big winner would lend him some money to stay in the game. Well, this night, it was darling hubby who needed a loan and Gary, the big winner, who supplied the loan. I had no idea just how big these loans could be until the witching hour and the loan came due. It was the custom that the debtor would write a check for any amount that couldn't be paid in cash to the lender at midnight when the game was scheduled to end. I'd seen the checkbook come out at many a poker night over the years.

Everyone else had left when Ryan and Gary came into the kitchen where I was cleaning up. Ryan seemed nervous. "Ah, Betty, we, ah, we've got a small problem."

"A 'small problem'? What kind of 'small problem'?"

"Ah, a money problem."

"Well, we've had that for a while. So what's new?"

"Well, you see, I, ah, I had a particular bad run of cards tonight."

"How bad a run of cards."

"Well, I lost my stake and like usual, the winner advanced me some money to stay in the game... so I could have a chance to get even again."

"OK, I'm following you so far. So how does that create a problem?"

"Well, I, ah, lost all the loan money."

"OK, so we need to make up the loss. How much is it?" I had no idea of just how much it might be. I guess I was thinking that he might want me to cough up my mad money... all fifty dollars of it.

"Well, that's the problem."

"How much?"

"$ 500.00."

"HOW MUCH?"

He looked at the floor. "$ 500.00, the problem is we don't have that much money we can lay our hands on and the rule is the debt has to be settled the same night."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, I could sign over the tittle to my pick up."

"How would you go to work then? I mean that truck is your work truck. No truck, no work. You won't even be able to finish the job you're in the middle of."

"Exactly, that's why we need another solution. We're desperate."

"Well desperate times call for desperate measures." I looked at Gary. "What can we do to settle the debt to your satisfaction." I was tying to be cool, which wasn't easy. I couldn't believe that Ryan would even borrow that kind of money knowing that if he lost it, he'd have no way of paying the debt. These people were our friends, it wouldn't do to Welsh on the debt.

"I'd rather let Ryan tell you about that."

"Ryan?"

"Well, ah... well, he, ah... ah... he ah..." Ryan stuttered, "He would be willing cancel the debt if he spent the night with you," Ryan continued in a rush. He knew just how much trouble he was in. His face showed the fear that it should have when suggesting I prostitute myself to settle his debt.

I turned on Gary. "Gary Haskle! How could you come up with such a thing? I thought you were a decent man."

Now it was Gary's turn to get flustered. "Ah, I didn't it... it just... it just sort of came up."

"What do you mean, 'It just sort of came up'? Just how did it 'just sort of' come up." There was fire in my eyes and ice in my voice as I looked back and forth between Gary and Ryan.

"Well," Gary said, "Ryan was explaining your financial condition to me and how the only thing you had that wasn't mortgaged to the hilt was his pick up and how he wouldn't be able to finish the job with out the truck. Then he kind of, I think, joked, 'The only thing of value I could offer would be roll in the hay with Betty.' I joked back, 'I can get a quickie for fifty bucks. $ 500 would get the girl all night.' Then he turned a little white and said, 'I'll see what I can do,' and here we are."

I was steamed. My husband, my own husband was here to see if I'd be a whore for him. A whore! "Ryan Becker, do you really think so little of me to offer my body all night to another man for money?"

"You're right, I'm an ass. I'll go get the title to the truck."

I was so ticked I couldn't even think straight. I wanted to hurt him and the only way I could think of was to do it. That SOB would pay. It would kill him to have me in bed all night as the sex slave of some one else. He didn't think of that, but he will. As he reached door I called out, "Ryan, wait. I'll do it. I'll do it right here, tonight. The only condition is no one, I mean NO ONE, can ever know. Come on Gary, our bedroom is this way. Ryan, you can sleep in the spare room."

Grabbing Gary's hand, I led the way. Going into the master bath and told him to get in bed and turn out the light. I closed the door and began to have second thoughts. Actually, I expected Ryan to come in and tell Gary to beat it, that he'd have the money in the morning. I mean, $ 500 isn't that much; he could raise it in twenty-four hours, couldn't he? Gary would go for that. He'd been a good friend for years. After ruminating on that for a while I realized there was no light coming in under the door and Ryan hadn't shown up. 'Show time,' I thought. I began to strip, when I was naked, I turned off the light. After waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light, I nearly ran to the bed, slipping in under the covers as quickly as I could.

I was determined not to enjoy this. I was going to lay there like a cold fish so he'd get as little for his money as possible. I'd make him wish he'd called that five hundred dollar a night call girl. She'd a least show him a good time in hopes of repeat business. I on the other hand didn't want repeat business and I'd make sure he didn't either.

He scooted over to me and reached out to lightly touch my face stroking my jaw line.

"Just do it, OK?"

"Au, contraire, my sweet. I have all night. No need to rush things. I intend to enjoy myself all night, but more importantly, I intend for you to enjoy me all night."

With that, he pulled me to him. I cooperated only in as much as I rolled over on my side and allowed him to put his arms around me. He began to nuzzle my neck and lightly, ever so lightly trace up and down my spine with the fingers of his right hand, while his left gently clutched the hair at the nape of my neck. But, save for the fact we were nude, pressed up against each other, he didn't touch me anywhere he wouldn't or couldn't have touched me were we dancing on a public dance floor.

He made little kisses, exploring my shoulder and neck. Meanwhile, his fingers expanded their exploration of my back, pausing to rub little circles on various places. Some how it was relaxing and my mood began to soften. I waited in anticipation of him rolling me over and having his way with me or at least copping a feel in some kind of attempt to arouse me, or perhaps a passionate kiss with the same aim.

No doubt he was aroused, I could feel him pressed against my thigh, but it wasn't demanding, it just was, much like the ever present erection many a women has felt when dancing with a virile young hunk in a bar. The only difference here was there was no clothing between us. A fact that was not lost on me nor on him I'm sure. Thinking about that, a little shiver went though my body. I'm not sure if it was apprehension or excitement at that point.

Just then his finger found a spot on my back that did bring a little excitement. An erogenous zone that it took Ryan six years to discover and even now, he had trouble remembering just where it was and this man found it in a matter of minutes. He began to tease it, moving away a little and returning to stimulate it all over again. How he knew what that spot did, I'll never know. I had to tell Ryan that was the place to turn me on. Meanwhile, his lips found a similar spot near my collar bone. Without meaning to my hands went to the back of his neck. I thought again about why we were here, naked, pressed against each other. Suddenly that erection that before had been just there seemed to be hot, on fire and pulsing. But I think it was just my perception of it, because he made no movement of his hip, only his hand on my back and lips on my neck.

Then ever so slowly, he moved his lips to my jaw line and kissed it near the temple as his hot breath filled my ear and kneaded my hair with his left hand. His right hand never moved far from that spot. At last, he moved his face to look me in the eye. There was a soft smile on his face. He kissed me softly, so softly I couldn't be sure he even touched my lips with his. He left me wishing he'd been just a bit more forceful. He then moved to the other side of my neck and found another spot to tease that melted me little by little.

With no intention on my part, my body molded itself to his, seeking his touch. Still he never made a forward move, only changing the frequency of his touch, keeping it fresh with every passing minute. After what seemed an eternity, when my breathing was labored though an open mouth and my one hand guided his lips to spots I liked stimulated and my other hand exploring his back he finally changed tactics. His hand went to my hip and rolled me back just a little and his lips began to move south covering my chest above my breasts with little gossamer kisses and his free hand began to explore my belly, still not touching any untoward place. His hand came up as if to cup my breast, but stopped short, only to return to my navel and then to my hip on the outside of my thigh and begin its journey all over again. By the time it had made its third trip, I found myself disappointed that he stopped short of my breast. Each time he came up I moved a little, willing his hand to continue.

As I was distracted by his hand tracing little circles on my hip, his lips wandered ever closer to my cleavage. When I noticed it, I took a deep breath, willing him to descend to my nipples which I realized were erect and throbbing. This man was getting to me. I just wanted him to get on with it. To touch me, to use me, to let me feel him take me. He raised his face to mine, touched my nose with his ever so gently.

Unthinking, uncaring, my hand went to the back of his head and pulled his lips to mine. God help me I kissed him, I kissed him with a passion I seldom knew. At last he rewarded me by gently cupping my breast and rubbing a thumb across my turgid nipple sending a tingling shiver though my abdomen causing my hips to flinch ever so slightly. His lips soon joined his thumb in teasing my nipple. My hands again were at the back of his head pulling him to my breast as his tongue laved my aureole. An electric shock shot through me when he first brushed his hand across my vulva. My hips bucked without volition.

He began then to stimulate me in earnest. He played my like a finely tuned Stradivarius as a virtuoso alone on the stage. Raising me to higher heights peaking, climbing as the tempo of the melody increased to that of the Ritual Fire Dance. As I burned with a fire that couldn't be quenched he work at fevered pitch until I exploded, crying out in a voice I didn't recognize. My body contorted and bucked and shook violently.

Having completed the solo, he was ready to step up the action. As I lay there in post orgasmic bliss, he stepped up to the podium tapped his baton in preparation to conduct the full symphony orchestra. He teased me with it rubbing it lightly, as lightly as his fingers had started out. Each time it crossed my clit, I humped up in an attempt capture it. I wanted it, no I needed it. I didn't care who was on the other end; it was the answer to my all needs, all my desires. Lust rose up in my loins that demanded release. When finally I did capture it, he only gave me an inch or two, then quickly pulled it back to tease my clit once more. Over and over he did it to me until I took the initiative and flung my legs around him as he gave my that inch. Using that leverage I pulled him into me. I clamped on tight allowing only a few inches movement on his part before yanking him back into me with a vengeance. Soon we found a rhythm and I allowed him more freedom of movement.

His strokes became long and decisive as he pounded into me and I bucked back in kind. I found my voice, "Oh God yes, yes, yes... OH GOD YES!" He began to grunt as he renewed his efforts and I grunted along with him. "Oh Gary, God yes! Just like that, do it! Ahgh!" Sometimes he would grind into me, pressing his pelvic bone into mine with small sideways motions, driving me wild. Other times, he would draw slowly back only to slam aggressively down crushing our pubes together.

I rushed forward toward climax like a raft caught in the current of raging stream. I bumped, spun, racing faster and faster until without warning I shot over the edge of the waterfall, dropping, dropping only to crash into the wave of the pool. Whirling and whirling over and over, my body shaking, my voice screaming a primeval scream.

As I began to return to my senses I became aware he was on a mission of his own. His face contorted. I knew where he was going and I wanted him to get there. I matched him thrust for thrust until he ground into me and bucked and grunted. At last he all but collapsed with his elbows holding him up. After several minutes, he raised his head and smiled. "God that was good," he said.

"Yes," I breathed and hugged him.

As we lay there catching our collective breath he began to stroke, ever so slowly, in and out of me. I began to shiver with excitement. I remember thinking, 'Gad! He's still hard and willing get me off again.' Matching his strokes I could feel the beginnings of my next climax start to rumble within me. He was in no hurry, but just smiled down as he titillated me. He knew what he was doing to me and he was enjoying it. This time the ride wasn't wild and exhilarating, it was building slowly. I could sense that to spite its slow start this one would achieve heights of its own that I would happily throw myself off, should he fail to push me over. It was like a pot of water put on a low flame that increased temperature slowly to bring the water to boil. I could feel it rising and reveled in the feel. With each slow stroke the tension tightened gloriously. Little by little it became more urgent until the pitch reached a point where noises began to emit from my lungs... little mewing noises. As my excitement raised, he remained calm, smiling down at me, a devilish glint in his eye.

Eventually I realized that I was thrusting vigorously up to meet his down stroke and he was returning my stroke at the pace I was setting. Faster and faster I pushed back, faster and faster he returned, finally slamming deliberately into me with each downward thrust. Then without warning, I was over the edge thrusting, bumping, grinding, shuddering with passion. I realized I had been holding my breath and let it out with an audible gasp as wave after wave of ecstasy ripped through my guts.

When I came down, he was still there, smiling down at me. "Good, huh?" he asked.

"Awesome," I answered.

He smiled and pulled out of me and lay on his side as he pulled me into a sensual kiss. "Thank you," he said, "I needed that. You're damned good lady."

I was at a loss. What could I say? Finally I said, "I should be thanking you. I was expecting a horrible experience and you've turned it into a glorious one."

"If I haven't lost my touch, you'll be thinking that again before the night's out."

He kissed me sensually again and pulled me tight. I glanced at the clock. We'd been at it an hour and a half. Ryan never took that long before he was cutting Z's, out for the night, sometimes leaving me frustrated and Gary was promising me another round. We lay quietly as I drifted off to sleep.

Somewhere around 3:30 I woke up needing the bathroom. After the way Gary made me feel I figured he deserved a little eye candy in the morning. So on my way back, I stopped by my lingerie drawer and got out the nighty that Ryan gave me for our last anniversary. It was a pastel lilac color and quite see though. It came down just over my butt and in the front, it was open except where it tied under my boobs. Ryan loved it because of the easy access. It had matching panties, but I left them off I figured they'd just get in the way in the morning when he wanted seconds, at least, I hoped he'd want seconds.

Climbing back in bed, I looked at the man who'd taken me to nirvana and back sleeping peacefully on his back covered only with a sheet pulled up to his waist. I thought about that cock that had given me so much pleasure and how I hadn't even seen it. Between the glow of the night light from the bathroom, the streetlights filtered through the mini-blinds and blue glow of the alarm clock readout, there was just enough light to make out the detail on his talented hands. It struck me that if I lifted the sheet, I could see that magnificent cock. So that's what I did.

It was uncircumcised. I'd never seen an uncircumcised one before. After our session together, I may have been prejudiced, but it was gorgeous. Even in its flaccid state, it was as big as Ryan's erection. I couldn't help myself. I reached out and touched it, not just touched it; I picked it up and felt its heft. Wanting a better look, I bent down near it. I could smell its muskiness. I don't know, maybe it was the pheromones or something, but there was a stirring in my groin. After a few moments breathing the scent, I kissed it and then took it in my mouth. I had to taste it. I stroked it down, to pull the foreskin back and swirled my tongue around the head, luxuriating in the velvety softness and man taste.

It began to swell and I was alive with desire. I'm not sure where the rational part of my brain was, but somehow I was convinced that I could take that thing in my mouth, enjoy its taste and texture and have Gary sleep through it. Well, that theory was shot to hell when I heard him moan as he put his hand on the back of my head.