A Bet in BransonbyLynnGKS©
We've been going to Branson to fish every summer for years – four couples, very good friends. All in our early thirties. The guys fish and the girls shop and we take in the shows at night – one week of total fun. We rent this place from a friend – it's really just a shack with a great big living room and kitchen and four bedrooms jutting out from the living room. Thin walls and no privacy, but perfect for a fishing camp and we love it. But the last time we did it may turn out to be the last time we do it. Some people will probably think that what happened is funny. It was not funny for me! Eddie and I were so embarrassed that we sneaked out early the last morning before anybody was up.
The guys play poker a couple of nights and the girls usually take in a couple of extra shows. Well, our last night there, for some crazy reason, the girls decided to stay and watch the poker game. We should never have done that. I'm a good poker player and I enjoy it but the other gals are card stupid. The guys play their "special game" most of the time. It's their own idea. Each guy gets three cards face up and then they bet. Then a fourth card face up and they bet again. Then a fifth card is dealt face down and the final bet is made. Of course they can drop out any time. They play table stakes and they all start with exactly the same amount of money – usually two or three thousand dollars. When you run out of money on the table you are out of the game. You can only go "light" on a bet if you have the cash in your pocket to cover it if you lose. The bets can get pretty high because when the game is played this way the guys can calculate the odds of winning pretty well.
That night there was a lot of drinking and joking. I don't remember whose idea it was but somehow the girls clothing got classified as "table stakes" valued at five hundred dollars an item, not counting shoes. It was hot and each of us had a skirt and blouse with bra and panties, which meant our clothes were worth two thousand dollars as table stakes. All the girls got into the spirit of the game. Patti said she wanted to wear her "chase me – catch me – fuck me shoes" so we all put on spike heels to show off our legs and excite the guys. There was a lot of drinking and a lot of laughing.
When we started nobody thought that any of us would end up naked but maybe bra and panties and then the husband drops out. We swam together in bikini swimsuits so the guys knew what we looked like. The game went on for over an hour and then Larry loses big on what looked like a good bet. On the next hand he covers the first two bets but to cover the third he has to bet Patti's bra. He looks back at her and she nods okay and off it comes. Patti is standing there in panties and spike heels with her arms across her breasts. Then she gives a big sigh, laughs, and drops her hands so the guys can see her tits. They are nice and creamy white where her bikini keeps the sun off. Big tits with no sag and nipples getting hard as the guys look at them. The guys stare and finally she laughs and twists around to make them jiggle. Larry tries to laugh but I can see he is embarrassed at his buddies ogling his wife's tits.
Jerry loses big on the next hand and Michele is standing there in bra and panties. I don't think Jerry will bet again. The next hand Larry has nothing in the first three cards and doesn't bet. The only thing he has left is Patti's pants. But my husband Eddie loses big – he bets all his cash on a really great hand. The odds are with him but he loses to Randy who now has a big pile of hundred dollar bills in front of him. Both Larry and Eddie were playing smart poker – the luck just broke against them. Everybody is drinking a lot more than usual and it's obvious the game won't last much longer. It usually ends when one guy has all the money and Randy is almost there.
The next hand my husband Eddie is looking at three hearts in the first deal against a pair of fives and a tray. Eddie is out of cash. Randy checks and Eddy throws in my blouse for five hundred. Randy sees the five hundred and raises five hundred more. There goes my skirt! I'm getting nervous standing there in bra and panties but I feel a hell of a lot better when hubby draws another heart as his fourth card, but not so well when his opponent draws a tray – two pair! But a flush beats two pair and there are a lot of hearts left in the deck. Larry and Jerry have dropped out. Randy checks and Eddie looks back at me. Oh well, there's already one set of tits on display – might as well join Patti and make it two. Off comes the bra. I don't hide 'em. I throw my shoulders back and let the guys look and that bastard Randy looks at my tits, sees the five hundred, and counts out five hundred dollar bills to raise the bet.
I look at the table with four hearts in front of my husband and two little pair in front of Randy. Without saying a word I hook my thumbs in my panties, pull 'em down to my ankles, and pitch 'em on the table over a thick stack of hundred dollar bills. There are no hearts dealt to any other player so far and we have a chance for a big win. Two guys out leaves just my husband and Randy.
I'm standing there buck naked in spike heels. Randy is leering at me. He's getting drunk now. I knew he was eager to make me strip because in our pool in my bikini I always felt his eyes undressing me. I've got nice tits – probably the best of the four gals here and I've got a flat belly and great legs. My ass is what I think is my best thing. It's tight and firm and has tiny creamy white triangles where my small bikini keeps the sun off. Eddie likes my bush the best. It's a thick triangle of curly brunet hair that almost completely covers my clit, and I have a big clit. When Eddie licks my clit his face is buried in that thick beaver. Which he says smells like a horny pussy and tastes like anchovies. The boys must think I look great because every eye is on me. From pussy to tits and back to pussy again. My butt may be my best feature but the boys seemed to be much more interested in my pussy.
Eddie has to say "Deal the cards" to get their eyes off my pussy. The final card is dealt face down and when Eddie lifts up a corner to peak at his card his face gives away nothing to anybody except me. But, I can tell by his face that he got a heart. Then Randy looks at his card and doesn't drop out. He counts off ten hundred dollars and drops them in the pot. Eddie has nothing to bet, and I know that he has less than a thousand dollars in his pocket.
"Can I go light?"
"Do you have a thousand dollars in your pocket?"
"No. Hell it's our last night."
"You know the rules. Table stakes and go light only if you have the cash in your pocket to cover it immediately. You can't go light without the money. Either cover the bet or fold."
"Shit. You can't make me fold."
"I can and I will. That's been our rules for years. Unless you got something else to bet."
"I got nothing else to bet."
Randy smirked at my husband and looked at me standing naked behind him. His eyes went from my tits to my pussy and stayed there. Then, looking directly at my pussy he spoke softly to my husband.
"Yes you do. You got something else to bet."
"What's that?" asked Eddie, puzzled. Then he saw Randy's staring eyes, and he followed his gaze. Turning his head Eddie is looking directly at my pussy.
Randy chuckled. "A piece of that to match my thousand. If you win you get the pot. If I win I get the pot and I fuck your wife. Right now in that bedroom." He points to one of the bedrooms adjoining the room where we are playing poker.
There it was. It was out now. Everybody was really drunk. This would have been over the line otherwise. But the sexual tension had been building since the girls started undressing. It got a lot stronger when Patti showed her tits and was big time tense when I stripped down naked. When Randy talked about fucking me the tension was so thick that you could have cut it with a knife. There was absolute silence in the room as everyone's eyes looked at me, standing there buck naked in chase-me catch-me fuck-me shoes. The guys had enjoyed looking at my body before, but now they were looking at me again and I could read their thoughts. They were thinking about me getting in that bed they could see through the open door and spreading my legs for Randy. And they were thinking about everybody, including my husband, sitting here and listening to the springs of that bed squeak as Randy fucked my brains out not fifteen feet away on the other side of that cardboard thin door.
I stopped being embarrassed about being naked and started looking at the cards on the table. There were fourteen cards face up and no hearts except the four in front of my husband. The odds were with him and I knew from his face that his hole card was a heart to make the flush that beat two pair. There was one tray and one fiver showing in the hands of the two guys that dropped out and a pair of trays and a pair of fives in front of Randy. Thirty-eight cards left and that bastard needed either a tray or a five. Only two chances in thirty-eight. That meant that there was only one chance in nineteen that Randy had a hole card to make a full house and beat our flush. Was he bluffing?
Randy knew Eddie's money situation. He'd been almost leering at me in my bikini for years. He'd made his bets to strip me naked and now he was lookin' at what must have made his pecker stiff as he fantasized about me. Why wouldn't he bluff? It was probably worth what it had cost him already just to see me naked. Why not bluff my husband, win the pot, and look at me naked all without ever showing his hole card. He knew Eddie would never bet his wife's pussy on a poker hand. He had to be bluffing! Eddie knew the odds as well as I did, but I knew for sure that Eddie was never going to bet my pussy on anything.
Eddie turned to me. "It's your call, honey."
It's hard to look like you're in charge when you're standing there buck naked with three guys staring at your pussy and your husband watching. But I knew something about poker. Check those damned odds again, I said to myself. Steady! Be right! I saw 14 cards. That leaves 38. Three trays and three fivers showing makes the odds two in thirty-eight or one in nineteen that Randy had drawn a tray or fiver to make a full house. It's my pussy and that bastard's not gonna' bluff me. He's not gonna' take three thousand dollars of our money. I just gotta take that bet. I stepped forward, threw my shoulders back to show the bastard my tits, and spoke like I was in control.
"I'll take that bet. My pussy's in the pot!"
Dear Reader: According to the odds, there are nineteen possible endings to this story. But they boil down to just two. Here they are. You can take your choice.
Endings #1 through #18
My husband looked at me. He was surprised. He didn't think I'd do it, but he turned over his hole card, a fifth heart, for a flush. Randy looked disappointed. He took one more look at my naked body, slowly looking me up and down from tits to pussy. I let him look. After all, that bastard had paid three thousand dollars to see me naked. He turned over his hole card and tossed it into the center of the table. It was a one eyed jack. Then he drained the last bit of whisky from his glass, got up, and headed for the bathroom.
"I gotta piss," he said in a disgusted voice.
I started to get dressed. I was embarrassed but richer by three thousand dollars. But more important to me, as I stood there naked, was that we beat Randy. That arrogant son-of-a-bitch would have liked nothing better than to screw me while the rest of our group listened though those paper-thin walls. We headed home the next morning, but this was a year that we would remember.
My husband looked at me. He was surprised. He didn't think I'd do it, but he turned over his hole card, a fifth heart, for a flush. Randy started to smile. He turned over his hole card to show a tray. The odds were against him. That tray was a big surprise, but not my last surprise of the evening. Then he got up from the table, took me by the hand, and led me into the bedroom. He didn't even bother to collect his three thousand dollars in the center of the table. He was gonna' collect something he wanted more first.
Closing the door, he began to undress, without a word. I stood there a minute and then I thought "What the hell! A bet's a bet" and I laid down on the bed and said to myself, "I'm just gonna' lay here and let the bastard pump his load." The springs squeaked when I got in bed. When Randy dropped his pants and shorts I got my second surprise of the night. Out sprung the thickest dick I'd ever seen. It was long, but what hit me was how thick it was. It was thicker than I thought a dick could possibly be – as thick as his wrist. It was covered with twisting blue veins and had a big purple knob for a head. The bastard was already dripping pre-cum, which he probably started to make the minute he saw that third tray as his hole card.
"I've been thinking about this for a long time," he said. "I've wanted to fuck you ever since I first saw you in that bikini years ago. But, I never thought I'd have a chance."
There was no foreplay. I spread my legs and he crawled in the saddle rubbing the pre-cum on that big purple head to make it slippery. The bed springs squeaked again when he shoved that monster into me. He started to fuck and the squeaking springs took on a regular rhythm. Then I got my third surprise. That obnoxious bastard knew how to fuck! Shit! I'd planned to just lay there, let him do his thing, and get it over with. But this was something different.
My pussy was spread so wide by that thick dick that he stretched me out pulling my clit down on the shaft of his cock. His cock rubbed the head of my clit with every stroke. And, he knew how to keep his cock right there. My clit gets hard when I turn on. It's about the size of my little finger and the head of it sticks up like a little penis, hard and very sensitive. The shaft of his cock was rubbing the head of my clit every time he pumped me and each time it sent an almost electric sensation through my pussy and then my whole body. He was driving me wild.
The squeaking bedsprings told my husband and my friends in the next room what was happening to me. I was gettin' fucked big time, but what they didn't know was that I was enjoying it. My pussy started to drip and I heard the wet squishy sounds that a horny pussy makes when it gets fucked. Our bodies were slapping together with wet sounds loud enough to be heard by my husband in the next room. That damn door was no thicker than cardboard.
Damn it! He had me! That bastard was gonna' bring me off! He was going to make me come and I'm a screamer! Everyone in the next room would know that I liked it! Including my husband. Randy just kept pumping my pussy and God it felt good.
Could I hold it back? Could I come quietly like a nice lady? When my ass started to hump on its own to match what he was doing to me, I knew the answer to both questions was "no way". Randy was a bastard. He was drunk. I didn't like him. I didn't like him even a little bit. But that son-of-a-bitch knew how to fuck. I couldn't think of anything except what that thick dick was doing to my clit.
To hell with it! I don't care what they hear, I said to myself. I closed my eyes, arched my back, and embraced his hips with my thighs squeezing him tight. I put my arms around his chest, pulled that horny bastard closer, and started to grunt when I took that big cock deep. I just let my ass take over and headed for La-La-Land. I'd get there in two minutes tops!
Dear Reader: Please let me know which of the endings you like best. I have discovered that some readers do not like wives getting fucked in my stories and they make ugly comments about sluts needing to get shot. Rather than sending them to an evangelical website, I thought I might offer them an alternate ending which they can enjoy without feeling threatened by having their subconscious desires brought too close to the surface.