Card Game With Couples

"The What Dal-what-y?" Lauren asked, turning to look behind the couch.

"The Great Dalmuti," I said again, "It's a card game. Super simple but a ton of fun with a group."

Reluctantly, everyone gathered around the table. I dumped out the deck and showed them the cards. I hadn't played the game since college, but I remembered the rules well enough. At its heart, Great Dalmuti is like any trick-taking game. I've heard it called Scum or President in other places, but the branded version sold in stores is called The Great Dalmuti.

People had to play sets of cards that were one lower than the ones in the middle of the table. So, if there was an 8 on the board, you could put out anything from a 7 down to a 1. There were some side rules, jokers and the like, but that was the gist of it.

What made the game interesting, was what happened outside the card play. Whoever got rid of their cards first in the round was named the Great Dalmuti. Second was named Lesser Dalmuti. Going out in last, however, made you the Great Peon and second to last was the Lesser Peon. The Great Peon had to exchange their best two cards for the Great Dalmuti's worst two cards. It was the same for the Lesser Peon and Lesser Dalmuti, except they only exchanged one.

But it was beyond that. The game encouraged people to get into their roles. The Great Peon should have to shuffle the deck and perform other responsibilities to maintain the game. In fact, they were supposed to do any dirty work that occurred to the group. Stuff like that was what took the game from interesting to incredible.

"Sounds like fun," Gwen said, already smiling enthusiastically. Kevin agreed with his wife.

"I guess it'll be ok," Kirstin said with an empty shrug. That was the closest she was going to get to a ringing endorsement, I knew. Kirstin was in a tough middle spot. On the one hand, she wanted to support me, her loving husband. But she also didn't want to look dorky in front of Lauren, her super cool work friend. I understood, though I didn't love the lurch it left me in.

"It would be something to do while we drink, I suppose," Dante said.

Lauren stared at all of us like we'd just sold her out, then sat down at the table with a loud sigh. And with that effusive excitement expressed, we were ready to play.

Most everyone had finished their first drink, so I gave the group refills (beers for Kevin, Dante and myself, wine for all three women). Then I grabbed a bunch of spare chairs so everyone could sit. Finally, with everyone settled, I dealt out the cards.

Since this was the first game, we played with no Dalmutis or Peons. It was not an auspicious beginning. Gwen kept forgetting that she had to play lower numbers rather than higher ones. Lauren could barely be bothered to notice when it was her turn. Dante seemed more interested in studying the art on the cards than playing them. Still, we got through it. By luck more than anything, I finished in first. Lauren, by lack of intent rather than skill, came in last.

For the second hand, then, I was the Great Dalmuti, Kevin was the Lesser Dalmuti, Gwen was the Lesser Peon, and Lauren was the Great Peon. Kirstin and Dante had finished in the middle, which left them without a title.

"Lauren, you have to shuffle," I said, tossing her the deck. The attractive, skinny blonde shot me a dirty look, but picked up the cards. I was surprised at how deftly she was able to sort the deck with her lithe, long fingers. Lauren clearly had more experience with cards than she was letting on.

I took the worst two cards from my stack (a twelve and a nine) and held them out for Lauren to grab. She stared at me like I was the village idiot.

"You have to give me your two best cards in exchange," I said.

"What? Why?!"

"Those are the rules," Kevin said. He handed his one worst card to Gwen who passed her husband her best.

Lauren groaned and handed me two cards: a ten and an eight.

"There's no way those are your best cards," I said, eyeing them suspiciously.

"I can't, like, give you whatever?" she asked.

"Nope," Gwen said, giving the skinny blonde the fisheye. Wow, if you were getting on Gwen's nerves you were really accomplishing something.

"Fine," Lauren said. She took back the crappy cards and gave me her two best: a pair of threes.

"Thank you," I said, folding them into my hand. Was there a part of me that was enjoying the chance to annoy Lauren? You bet. But it was more than that. As a card game, itself, Great Dalmuti is OK. It's the social situations that make it work. That meant I needed to show the group really quickly how much fun it is to be the Great Dalmuti, and how much it sucks to be the Great Peon.

To my delight, Lauren seemed to be getting it because this time she paid way more attention to her cards. Still, I decided I needed to twist the knife a little more. I quickly finished my beer and demanded that Lauren bring me another.

"Get your own beer," Lauren snapped, "It's your apartment."

I repeated my request. "I'm the Great Dalmuti. You have to do it."

"Wait, seriously?" Lauren now eyed the rest of the table, waiting for them to let her in on the joke. Instead, Kevin handed her the little paper rule book. Yes, it really says in the printed rules that the Great Peon should get the Great Dalmuti drinks.

"Fucking hell," Lauren said. She threw down the booklet, then marched over to the kitchen.

"A Blue Moon, please," I called over, making sure that 'please' was anything but polite. "They should be near the back.

Lauren responded by giving me the finger, but she brought me my beer. The whole table chortled as she sat back down.

"Happy now, Great Dal-fucker?" Lauren asked.

"For now, Great Pee-on," I said.

"You'd better watch out when I win," the blonde woman grumbled.

And just like that, everyone understood the genius, the fun, of playing The Great Dalmuti.

*

Lauren did win eventually. In fact, she started winning a lot. I didn't realize how competitive she was. But once she got the game, and understood the consequences, she became almost obsessed with beating us.

After rounds of wine refills, I think she got a little bored of it, and demanded I bring her a mixed drink. I settled on a paloma, mostly because we had the ingredients lying around. When I brought it over, she took a small sip.

"Not bad," she said.

The next hand, Kirstin won and decided that she, too, would like a paloma. This time, Gwen had to make it. The curvy brunette brought my wife her drink and, mirroring Lauren, Kirstin took a small sip and proclaimed it 'pretty good.'

"Which one's better?" Lauren asked.

The two women switched drinks and took a sip.

"Jacob's is pretty good," Kirstin said.

"Gwen's is better," Lauren said, "Sorry Jacob, you lose."

I was not at all surprised that the blonde woman, who seemed to hate the sight of me, also preferred someone else's alcohol.

By then, we were about thirty minutes in, and we'd settled into a pattern. The Great Dalmuti collected the best cards and demanded drinks. The Great Peon shuffled the deck and, once, had to clean the table when Kirstin accidentally spilled some of her beer. But that was it. No one figured out the opportunities they were missing. It was Dante, surprisingly, who finally put it together.

He'd won and Gwen had lost. Since everyone had been ordering each other to procure drinks, we'd all consumed more than we realized, leaving us a little floaty. Kevin's cute, brunette wife was shuffling the deck idly, when Dante's head popped up. I could practically see the lightbulb shining in his dark eyes.

"As the Great Dalmuti, I can order the Great Peon to do whatever I want," he said. It was somewhere between a question and a statement and I couldn't tell where he was going with it.

"Pretty much," I said.

"Anything?" he asked.

"Within reason," I said, "But yes, I mean, that's kind of the 'joke' of the game. You're the king."

"So, I can make Gwen here do a shot?"

"Sure," I said. We only had some cheap tequila left, but that was good enough. The young woman poured herself a drink, then downed it.

Kevin won the next game and ordered me, the Great Peon for the round, to do a shot as well. Soon everyone had downed a couple glasses, and what had started as a slow, kind of easy-drinking afternoon started to get sloshy very quickly. And the game started to devolve.

Kirstin put down a nine over an eight. We reminded her that the card had to be lower. She dropped the same card again.

"Oh right," she said, dreamily.

Next Kevin, reaching for his cards, nearly tumbled out of his (quite sturdy) chair. Gwen started laughing at him, hysterically. I noticed Dante was getting handsy. He seemed unable to talk to anyone without touching them first, male or female. Then, while Lauren was shuffling for the next hand, she accidentally dumped the cards onto the floor. I realized we needed to slow down or that wasn't the only thing that would be spilling soon.

"I think, maybe, we need to drink back on the cutting," I said, "Cut back on the drinking, I mean."

"But I want to make people do stuff for me," Lauren said, whining like a little girl on a trip to a mysterious chocolate factory. At least she was into the game now.

"Fine, but we need to take a little break," I said.

The group agreed and we all got up from the table. As soon as I stood, I realized I had to pee like crazy. I scampered back to the bathroom. When I came out, Gwen was waiting to take my place.

"This is fun!" the cute brunette said. She put her hand on my shoulder and I couldn't tell if she needed me for balance or if the alcohol was making her touchy like it did with Dante. "You always have the best ideas."

"Um, thanks," I said.

Gwen gave me a big grin, then went into the bathroom. I walked down the hallway, already feeling a little more sober than I was before. As I went, I overheard Lauren's voice coming from the nearby bedroom.

"So, what do you think of him?" the skinny blonde woman asked.

"Dante?" Kirstin asked back. I leaned against the wall, so the girls wouldn't see me pass. I don't know why I felt the need to listen in, but I did. I saw Dante and Kevin were both in the kitchen, their attention turned away from me.

"Yes, Dante," Lauren said, "Isn't he gorgeous?"

"He's OK," Kirstin said.

"OK?!"

"I'm just not into those kinds of men, you know?" Kirstin said.

"You mean you're not into super-hot guys?" Lauren asked, incredulous.

"I like nice men," Kirstin said, quoting Empire Strikes Back. I knew Lauren wouldn't recognize the reference, but I got it right away.

"Dante's nice," Lauren said, "Very nice." She cackled.

Though I couldn't see it, I imagined Kirstin was giving her friend a dubious look.

"I'm not going to marry the guy," Lauren said, "Trust me, after my divorce, I'm not marrying anyone for a long while. I just want to have some fun. I mean, I'm in my thirties, I'm not dead. You can't tell me you don't feel the same way."

There was a long pause. "Sometimes," Kirstin said, "I love Jacob. I love my life. But..."

"You never did crazy things when you were young," Lauren said, "Like you said before."

"I'm happy with how things are now," Kirstin said, "But I didn't get to have, like, my wild youth or whatever. And sometimes I wish that I could have."

"That's what Dante's for," Lauren said, "He's the hot little two-seater convertible that you end up crashing into a pond before you buy a more sensible, safe SUV."

"I suppose," Kirstin said, "Well, I'm glad you found someone you can enjoy."

"Speaking of 'enjoy,'" Lauren said, "What about you and Jacob. Are you still in the no-go zone?"

"Not until I get my IUD," Kirstin said.

"Wow, I don't think I could do it," Lauren said, "Hold off that long."

"Trust me, we're both climbing the walls," Kirstin said, "If anything, I feel even more worked up than usual since I stopped taking the pills. My biological clock feels more like a time bomb."

"There's a solution for that, you know," Lauren said, and I swore I could hear her winking at my wife.

"No. I won't risk getting pregnant," Kirstin said, "I don't want kids and neither does Jacob."

"You've got more self-control than me," Lauren said, "How are you not humping anything that moves?"

"Believe me, I practically am," Kirstin said, chuckling nervously. "Sorry. I can't believe I'm talking so openly about this stuff. I think I'm drunker than I realized."

At that moment, I heard Gwen open the door to the bathroom. Quickly, I started to walk down the hallway again, like I'd been going that way the whole time. Lauren and Kirstin saw me pass. They gave each other a look, but I don't think they realized I'd been listening. They both got up and followed me out into the living area.

I slowed to sidle up to my wife, while Lauren practically pranced over to Dante for a kiss.

"You OK?" I asked Kirstin quietly.

"Everything's a little spinny," she said, beaming at me warmly.

"I'll have to talk to the landlord about that," I said and helped Kirstin to sit down at the table.

"I think we need to slow down on the drinking," Kevin said. He put his arm around his young wife, who was leaning on him for support.

"It's for the best," I said, "We're almost out of alcohol anyway."

Gwen was the Great Peon, so she started shuffling the cards as we all sat down. Dante was the Great Dalmuti, so he took Gwen's best two cards. But, per the new agreed rules, he didn't give her any other orders.

Kevin started us off by playing three 12s. I put out four 11s. Kirstin played two 9s. At least everyone was getting the game right after a quick break. I could tell everyone was still pickled, just not completely plowed.

"This is no fun," Lauren said, "We need the Dalmuti to do stuff."

"It doesn't have to be drinks," I said, looking at Dante, "The Dalmuti can order whatever he wishes."

Dante gave me a strange look, like he was now seeing me in a new light.

"So, I could tell the Great Peon to drop and give me twenty?" he asked.

"You heard the man," I said to Gwen.

The cute brunette paused for a moment, then gave a broad grin.

"Actually, let's do jumping jacks instead," Dante said.

That's an odd request, I thought to myself, though I don't know why it made any more or less sense to me than push-ups. Then Gwen stood in the middle of our living room, extended her arms and legs, and... Wow.

Like I said, Gwen was top heavy. She wasn't a skinny girl, but she wasn't fat either. Just curvy, I guess, especially in the chest. Even covered by at least two layers, Gwen's breasts looked about two sizes too big for her body. Her sweater puppies were more like sweater Great Danes.

So, you can imagine what it looked like when she started jumping up and down. It was hypnotic. Even Kirstin's jaw dropped as the busty girl popped up and down, her tits threatening to fly off at any moment. Almost as impressive, was Gwen's incredibly long hair. Watching her brown locks fly all over the place was almost as eye-catching as seeing her chest. The room went dead silent.

Gwen finished her final jumping jack, then raised her arms in triumph. Her face was red with exertion. The room cheered.

"Oh my God, that was hilarious," Gwen said, grinning dopily as she sat back down. She tried to pull her hair back behind her shoulders into a more controlled shape, but it was a lost cause.

I knew it was wrong for me to perv on my friend's wife, and not only because she was a good ten years younger than me. But there was something about Gwen that got to me. She had a cute face, sure. Something about her long, light brown hair, all the way down to her bottom, was also quite captivating. And her body, well, like I've said... But it wasn't just Gwen's massive chest that did it for me. After all, my own Kirstin was fairly stacked, herself, so it's not like I was missing out on much.

It was mostly Gwen's personality. Like I said, Gwen was game for anything. She was a happy, bubbly person and it made her easy to be around. Mixed with her youth, her cheery innocence, her positive attitude -- it was a real turn on for me.

So, seeing her doing something so normal like jumping jacks -- yet having it also be plainly sexual at the same time -- fit right into my fevered fantasies about Gwen. Her performance had me just as flustered as the girl, herself.

In fact, I was so wowed by what I witnessed, I missed a key play and ended up as the Great Peon. That wouldn't have been so bad, except that my worst enemy at the table was again the Great Dalmuti: Lauren.

The gorgeous blonde cackled cruelly when she saw what had happened. Then she stuck out her leg.

"Massage my feet," she said, simply.

Well, that wasn't so bad. Lauren's petite tootsies were bare from before -- she'd never put on socks after the great soaking. Lauren's feet were, admittedly, cute like the rest of her. Her toenails were painted a bright, girly pink.

The way we were sitting, I had to switch seats to reach Lauren's foot. This swapped the order around so that I was next to Lauren while my wife was seated between Dante and Kevin. I took the pretty blonde's foot into my lap (far away from anything that might accidentally pop up) and slowly began to work her foot.

To my immense satisfaction, Lauren moaned with contentment almost immediately after I started rubbing and sank into her seat. She was practically purring.

"That's nice," she said, absently, eyes already rolling back.

"He's good at that, isn't he?" Kirstin said. I wondered if my wife had given Lauren inside information on my skills. I played guitar, had since I was about ten. I wasn't professional or anything, it was just an outlet for self-expression sometimes. But one of the side benefits, beyond being able to serenade my wife when needed, was I had remarkably strong hands. It made me quite suited for necessary husband duties like opening pickle jars and providing foot rubs.

"I'll have to take my hand away to shuffle," I said, slowing my ministrations

"Someone else shuffle," Lauren said, her voice soft and low.

"The Dalmuti can only order the Great Peon around, right?" Kevin asked, "Not everyone."

"She's the king, she can do what she likes," I said.

Kirstin picked up the rule book, like it was going to have a satisfactory answer, then put it away with a sigh. "Fine, I'll do it," she said, and collected the cards.

"That's a good servant," Lauren said. I couldn't tell who she was referring to, only that she was inordinately pleased by the idea.

Kirstin passed out the cards and Lauren gave me her other foot to work on. Now both feet were on my lap, and while I was trying to be careful, they were inching towards a danger zone. I wasn't rock hard at the moment, but I wasn't exactly flaccid either. After all, I'd just experienced Gwen's boob-tacular bouncing and I had the very attractive Lauren's bare feet in my hands. What had Lauren said before? I'm in my thirties, not dead.

Though very distracted, I managed to escape last place and so I let Lauren's feet drop to the floor. Somehow, I knew, however, that this was only the beginning.

Sure enough, Kirstin demanded a back rub from Kevin after the next hand. I didn't want to be 'that guy' (after all, I was doing plenty of perving myself), but I couldn't help glancing over as the tall twenty-something ran his hands over my wife's shoulders. Like I said before, Kirstin told me she thought Kevin was cute, if a little skinny. To his credit, the tall boy kept things nice and chaste.

Kirstin won the next hand, as well, and demanded that her back rub should continue. This time, though, the Great Peon was Dante. And he kept things, ummm, less chaste.

Dante traced his hands up and down Kirstin's arms (she gave a tingly shiver when he did so) and down her back. A couple of times, too, when he thought no one was looking, he 'accidentally' brushed the back of his hands against my wife's breasts. No one said anything. It was the kind of casual contact that could be easily explained away. All of us were too drunk to be bothered about it anyway.