The Poker Game

Staring deeply into Rick's eyes, she said, "Now boys, I need your help. You've left me a little sore, so Rick and I will need some lubrication. So that Rick can stand up and screw me and be in complete control while I relax and enjoy, I will need to be at the edge of the table. So, two of you need to be on either side of Rick to hold my legs. Two more need to be on either side of the table to massage my boobs. And one of you needs to play with my head. Stan, get the bottle of baby oil and a condom from my purse. You be in charge of the oil. Hand me the condom."

That said and in possession of the condom, she put out her empty hand to Rick, who was still sitting down. He rose to stand directly in front of her, the tip of his rock-hard cock less than an inch from her stomach. Lynne opened the condom package and rolled it on, then she slipped up on the table. Terry and Tom took her legs. Jack and Stan put their hands behind her back so she could lean back onto the table slowly and gently. I took her head.

Stan poured a little oil on her pussy. Then Rick moved forward. He was mesmerized by the scene. Stan added a little more oil to the top of Rick's condom as he slipped it in her pussy slowly. Lynne purred, "Oh, baby, that's nice." Rick started a slow in and out motion. The rest of us started to get into the moment, wanting this girl who had brought us such a memorable evening to have the climax of a lifetime. Stan figured out that the oil could make massages feel really good, so he proceeded to oil her from neck to toes. Her breasts glistened. Her nipples pointed out like brand new pencil erasers. Her flat tummy and blond bush received ample attention. Then her legs and toes were massaged delicately. Terry got the idea that his task at one leg should include the territory all the way to her clit. As Rick got into a slow rhythm, Terry rubbed oil on either side of her clit. Not to be outdone, Tom oiled below her pussy until her anus was dripping. I kneaded her neck and shoulders and ministered to her ears.

As Tom played around her bottom, she sighed, "Go ahead, Tommy. Try a little bit." Tommy began making slow circles on the patch between her two holes, being careful not to interrupt Rick's concentration by hitting his dick or knocking his balls. "O-o-o," she cooed. "More." Of course, each one thought he was being appreciated, so we all redoubled our efforts. Every inch of her body was caressed and stroked and pressed and squeezed. Baby oil was everywhere. Tom sank two knuckles of his index finger in her ass and stroked in counterpoint to Rick.

She began to tense. Her pussy lips spread wide. Her clit stretched out. I helped her lift her head to get a better view and so she could look into Rick's eyes again. She encouraged him as if no one else were in the room. "That's it, baby. That's the spot. I'm going to come. Come with me. She went rigid. Rick's face turned red. He began to drive as fast as he could. She went over the top. I knew that Rick was getting the pussy massage I had felt. He came with a groan. After a few slow and unsteady final thrusts, he backed up and sat down, his condom full.

Lynne collapsed back onto the table, spent. The five of us massaged her lightly as she came down. "That was fantastic," she whispered.

But now what? In a trashy porn story, we would have all whipped out our dicks and jerked off on her before leaving her to clean herself up. Not his girl. She owned us. We carefully lifted her from the table and carried her well-oiled body to the master bathroom where Stan had run a bubble bath. We soaped her gently and let her relax. Rick got dressed and helped, too. We retrieved the last condom. But, instead of awarding her the sixth medal of a whore, we removed the necklace and added it ourselves. Then, Stan came up with a gift box in which we could arrange it like the crown jewels, the necklace in an oval with six bangles fully straight. We arranged it on tissue paper, and showed her just before we put on the top and tied it up with ribbon. She watched as we carefully placed it in her purse. She knew that this secret was hers.

As the water became cool, we all knew the evening had to end. We helped her out of the tub and dried her lightly. No hands touched her, only towels. No one squeezed or felt. We helped her dress because we thought that leaving her alone might tell her we were rejecting her now that we had had our fun. Jack held her panties open and low. She put an arm across the willing shoulders of Terry and Rick so she could step into each leg. Stan and I pulled them up, front and back. Tom held her bra open in front of her so she could insert her arms. After Terry and Rick straightened the straps, I got the honor of hooking it. Next, with arms again supported by Terry and Rick, Stan held out her garter belt, into which she stepped nimbly. He positioned it neatly at her waist. Jack and I each rolled a stocking. One at a time, we smoothed them up her legs and attached them to the garter. Tom held her blouse in front of her like a coat so she could turn and insert her arms. I buttoned her up and tugged the blouse straight. Jack held out her skirt. He and I pulled it up. Tom zipped it in back. Finally, her shoes were slipped onto her feet and her coat retrieved. We escorted her to her car. Each one gave her a hug that no peeping neighbor would have thought was unseemly. When she arrived, she was in charge. When she left, she was still in charge.

None of us have spoken of that evening in the last 35 years. But what we learned has helped us satisfy other women, and has given each of us a memory that will last forever.