My Little Sister’s Visit Ch. 08

"Jeez, Megan, are you wearing a thong to the poker game?"

My sister laughed. "It's not a thong, silly. It's a G-string. Ginny helped me pick it out."

"What's the difference?"

"A couple of square inches of satin. A thong has a small triangle of cloth in front and back. A G-string has a string running up your ass crack and a smaller triangle in front. It was all I could cram into my day pack. These are the only clothes I have left. I hope the suitcase comes soon. I can't afford to lose any more things."

I remembered she had lost her white bikini panties and her matching push-up bra as well as her shorts and tee shirt in the police raid at the waterfall. She'd told me she hadn't carried a spare bra, so tonight, her gorgeous breasts were unfettered under her white silky crop top.

"Well, now I understand why my womanizing roommate changed his mind about playing poker. Any red-blooded American male that saw you in these sexy clothes would lose his mind, and Paul is a confirmed lecher."

Megan laughed again. "Paul hasn't seen my outfit yet. I was only wearing my panties and a towel around my wet hair when he walked into the bathroom."

I groaned. "Oh, sweet Jesus. You talked to my lecherous roommate for ten minutes wearing only your little G-string. Why didn't you tell him to get out?"

"I couldn't throw your roommate out of his bathroom. Besides, I wasn't finished, and he was desperate to pee."

"Oh, dear God. The asshole peed while you were still in the bathroom?"

"Well, he needed to go because he pissed forever. I watched him in the mirror while I did my eyebrows. Do guys always shake their penis when they're finished?"

"Are you kidding? My asshole roommate pissed while you were there?"

"It's no big deal, but he does have a lovely cock. I think it might even be a little bigger than yours. Oh, here's the box of glasses."

She pulled a small bowl from the shelf along with the box and handed them to me before climbing down. She washed the counter before going back to my bedroom. She returned shortly and dumped a half dozen fat joints in the bowl.

"I hope you don't mind. While you were in the shower, I rolled a few joints from the bag Weed hid at the waterfall. I think it'll give us an advantage in the game. Don't worry. I left enough for a couple of joints."

I doubted that the joints we smoked at the waterfall had anything to do with my sister and me having sex or her gang bang. Weed had claimed his potent marijuana melted inhibitions, but so does alcohol. Naked bodies, warm sun, and cool water were more likely the cause of our incestuous behavior. A few joints would make the game more fun and the appetizers tastier.

Megan kept talking while she washed the glasses. "Maybe you could give me a quick summary of your friends' poker styles before we get started."

"Ok, why not. Doug is a theoretical physics grad student and very analytical. He'll keep up a running dialog concerning people's hands and the probabilities involved. Despite playing with the group for three years, he's incapable of bluffing and cannot conceive anyone else might bluff.

"Michael is three or four years older than the rest of us. He's married with two kids. He's an adjunct professor of international conflict, who I met during a protest. The 'Professor' is a bold player who bluffs most of the time. You don't need to look for a tell. Just assume he's bluffing.

"Barry is a rich Jewish kid from the Albany area. He was on his high school ski team and is amazing on the ski slopes. The little guy taught me everything I know about skiing moguls. He's a junior in labor relations. Despite his aggressive skiing style, he's a conservative player who drops out unless he has something good to build on. He's always looking at his hand and fidgeting unless he's bluffing. If he appears calm, he's bluffing. My ski buddy is playing for the fun of it, but he wants to make his money last as long as possible."

"My roommate is hard to read. Paul's brilliant, but his play is random. He throws out a lot of false moves to hide his tell if he even has one. He's hard to bluff since he has so much money that he isn't afraid to lose. It's best to play him straight. Either you have the better hand, or you don't."

My roommate opened the swinging kitchen door and said, "Are you guys going to keep babbling, or are we playing poler?"

Megan was still washing the wine glasses. She smiled at me and said, "Why don't you get your friends settled? I'll be there in a moment with the wine. God, I'm looking forward to an exciting night of high-stakes poker. Scott's porn collection included several arousing poker fantasies. In 'White Captive,' a naive debutant is kidnapped and stripped naked by a black gang. The young virgin becomes the prize of a cutthroat poker game."

"Megan, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there won't be any black gang members here tonight. My boring friends are here to play poker. You'll have to put off living your fantasies for another day."

Maybe, I should have lectured Megan about her damn fantasies, but I was eager to get the game underway. Besides, we were safe in my apartment with my nerdy friends. What could go wrong?

I went in and joined the gang at the table. The best thing about having my roommate play was him bringing his oscillating pedestal fan from his room. Even though the sun had set, the apartment was still too warm and humid for comfort. All of us except Paul were wearing tee shirts and basketball shorts. Poor Paul was wearing summer-weight dress trousers and a long-sleeve button-down white shirt. I guess it was the price for coming from an old wealthy Boston family. At least he had taken off his prep school tie.

Barry said, "I just missed all the fun at Tony's. It seems some chick was high on cocaine or something harder and fucked the entire Cornell football team on the air hockey table. Damn, I wish I'd gotten in on the action."

"I faked a laugh and said, "Yeah, as if Tony would ever let that kind of shit happen. Come on. Get real. If you want some action tonight, concentrate on playing poker. How many chips do you want to buy?"

I had just finished selling chips to everyone when my sister walked in with a couple of wine glasses and a big smile. All the guys immediately focused their attention on my sister.

"Hey guys, this is Megan, my old girlfriend from California. She's here for an interview with Cornell admissions. If no one objects, she's going to play poker with us. "

Paul snickered and said, "I'm looking forward to playing with your old girlfriend."

I didn't have time to think about my roommate's strange emphasis on the phrase old girlfriend or his use of the word playing. My sister giggled at my introduction and did a quick spin on the toes of her high heel wedge shoes. She got a better reaction than she had at the airport terminal since she now only had a G-string under her miniskirt. Everyone got a good look at her long tan legs and bare ass cheeks. When she stopped her spin, her plump unconstrained breasts continued moving, and they took a moment to stop jiggling.

Barry had the best view of her lacy red panties since he was slumped in his seat as usual and was barely 5' 2" and a hundred and ten pounds dripping wet with his glasses. His shouted response seemed to represent the opinion of everyone at the table.

"Oh hell yes!"

My little sister bent over to hug my diminutive ski partner as a reward for his enthusiastic reception. I thought his eyes would fall out of his head when the plunging V-neck of Megan's crop top gaped open, exposing her bare breasts to his bulging eyes. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Megan kept her hands on his shoulders as she looked him in the eye and said, "Thank you for the warm greeting."

Poor Barry. He tried to return my sister's long friendly gaze, but his eyes kept bobbing back and forth between her exposed breasts and her sparkling eyes.

I thought the rest of the group would suffer significant bodily harm as they rapidly shifted in their seats to get a better view. Doug pretended to reach across the length of the table for the deck of cards. In the process, he knocked half of them onto the floor since his eyes were distracted by my sister's breasts that were threatening to escape from her skimpy top.

After Megan stood up, a little fight broke out over where she would sit. Everyone had their favorite spot at the table. However, they were all more than happy to kick one of their friends aside to sit next to my scantily clad sister. When the dust settled, the Professor and I maintained our seats at the ends of the table. Megan sat to the Professor's right with Paul sitting between us. Barry sat across from my sister with Doug on my right.

Megan remained standing behind her chair. "I'm going to have a glass of Riesling while I play if anyone wants to join me. Otherwise, I can bring out more beer."

Paul looked at me. "Tell me about the Riesling."

"It's a semi-dry Mosel. I've had it before and picked it to go with the shrimp appetizer Megan selected. The owner of the wine shop in college town described it as having the aroma of blossoms and apple, anchored by the taste of slate and steel."

Barry laughed and said, "I'll have whatever Megan's having."

Paul chose the Mosel Riesling, as did the Professor. Of course, Megan and I were going with the wine. Only Doug decided to stay with beer.

I still look back on those years with fondness. Back in the late 1960s, German and many French wines were still inexpensive. Then even a graduate student could afford excellent wine for a special occasion.

Once everyone was settled, I shuffled the deck before cutting to see who would deal. When Megan won, I explained she could choose any poker game in Hoyle, but deuces and jokers were wild. My sister nodded and shuffled the deck professionally. Everyone tossed in a white chip that was worth a dollar as she began dealing.

"I need to get a feel for the way you guys play, so let's start with five-card draw."

I added my two cents worth. "Megan's used to playing penny-ante poker with her family. When I played with them, they didn't allow wild cards and had a three raise limit. It may take her a few hands to get used to wild cards and no limits on raises. I know Doug will help her out by providing his usual running commentary on the odds."

My sister played conservatively for the first hour and was only down about twenty dollars. It was long enough for me to pick up her tell. When Megan was bluffing, the rush of adrenaline would make her antsy. She would stare at her cards while wrapping her blond hair around her fingers. I doubt anyone besides the Professor noticed, but I saw him grin when my sister bluffed Doug out of a small pot.

Barry and the Professor had kept up a steady stream of light banter with Megan while Doug covered his intense shyness with an even more detailed analysis of the hands than usual. Paul momentarily engaged her in a discussion of her college plans followed by recommendations of sororities based upon how they helped with their members' careers.

I was glad I'd bought six bottles of Riesling because, after an hour, we had polished off three bottles. I'd been observing Megan, and she was on her third glass when she called for a break to serve the shrimp. The lone beer drinker made a run for the bathroom before the rest of us managed to stand up.

When everyone returned to the table, they found a small plate at their place. There was a big plate of shrimp and a bowl of cocktail sauce at each end of the table. I got nervous when I saw the bowl of fat joints in front of my sister.

Megan lit one and said, "I think some mellow marijuana will enhance your appreciation of the shrimp."

I laughed when she described the potent weed as mellow. I realized that she intended to get everyone so wasted that she could take their money. I watched with amusement as she took a long drag before passing the joint to Paul. Since my roommate had never joined my friends or me when we smoked pot, I expected him to decline. I'd concluded a long time ago that he wasn't into drugs, even something as innocuous as marijuana. He surprised me by taking a heavy toke like a pro before passing it to me. Meanwhile, Megan had lit a second joint and gave it to the Professor after taking her second big hit.

By the time both joints made it back around to Megan, they were only about a half-inch long. My sister took a quick hit before pinching the burning end and putting the roaches back into the bowl. I usually burned a joint down further, but everyone had taken at least a couple of hits and didn't need more. I applauded her for saving the roaches so they could be recycled into another joint.

The two pounds of shrimp practically evaporated along with another bottle of Riesling. Megan brought another bottle of wine along with a bowl of chips, guacamole, and salsa.

When we resumed, Megan's style of play was more aggressive. She stayed in longer in case a wild card or two dropped her way. She began calling the Professor regularly now that she had confirmed he was bluffing every time he made a big raise. She delighted in taking Doug's money with a few bluffs of her own.

After another hour, Megan passed around another pair of fat joints. I took a short hit on one and passed on the second. I watched my sister as she took one final hit before pinching out each roach. My little sister was taking twice as many hits as everyone but Barry and Doug.

I'd also been keeping track of my sister's wine consumption and figured she was beginning her second bottle. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, and her speech was slurred. It might have been an act, but by now, none of us was feeling any pain. We all laughed along with her at the stupidest joke.

My drunken sister's posture became more provocative after we smoked the second pair of joints. She scooted her ass back in her chair and leaned forward with her breasts resting on the table while she stared at her cards. It was very distracting since it pushed the V neck of her crop top open and displayed all of her plump breasts with an occasional glimpse of her hard nipples. I had to believe it was intentional.

Doug seemed mesmerized by my sister's generous tits. The marijuana contributed to his erratic play, and his commentary became more detailed. Shortly after the second pair of joints, Doug bet on what he thought was a sure thing. He even pulled a couple of twenties out of his wallet to call Barry. After he lost the hand, he declined to buy more chips. Of course, he remained for the lively banter that had motivated him to come in the first place. He seemed content to stare at my sister's breasts and swill beer. Occasionally he dipped a tortilla chip into the salsa or guacamole.

Barry was down to about thirty dollars and hoping for a miracle. Paul was about even for the night and content with picking off smaller pots. As usual, the Professor and I were both winning.

My sister had started the night with her babysitting money, the eighty she had won from me at air hockey, and the one hundred eighty dollars from the guys in the pizza parlor for acts I didn't want to remember. She had bought more chips from me a couple of times. I figured she had lost around a hundred dollars learning how to play poker with wild cards. It left her with around a hundred and sixty dollars to play with since she had promised me she wouldn't touch the eighty dollars she had brought from California. If her luggage didn't show up soon, she would need her babysitting money to buy an outfit for her interview on Tuesday.

The game got interesting when Barry called for a round of seven-card-stud. Everyone except Doug tossed in a white chip.

Poker is all about waiting for a hand where you and your opponents all think they have the best hand. It's worth the wait when you know you have the better hand, and it's even better when it's not showing because then you can milk the suckers for all they're worth.

After the first three cards were dealt, the Professor showed a deuce while Megan showed a joker. Evidently, my sister liked her hole cards because she tossed in two blue chips worth ten dollars each. The Professor called while Paul and I dropped out with nothing remarkable showing. However, Barry had an ace up and called the bet.

On the next round, Megan got an ace, Barry got a ten, and the Professor was dealt a jack of hearts. Megan tossed in another two blue chips. The Professor immediately called, while Barry thought for a moment before sighing and dropping out.

Megan's next card was a king while the Professor drew the ace of hearts. Megan tossed another three blue chips, and the Professor quickly called.

Megan's last up card was the ten of hearts. The professor glared as Barry tossed him the king of hearts. My sister stared at the Professor's possible Royal Flush for a minute and passed. The Professor glanced at the chips Megan had piled in front of her and smiled. He tossed in five blue chips, and my sister called. She only had about forty dollars worth of chips left in front of her.

Barry dealt them their last card down and sat back to watch the action. Everyone at the table, including Megan, was aware that the Professor often bluffed. If ever there was a hand made for bluffing, it was the Professor's. All he needed was the Queen of Hearts or one of the remaining wild cards to fill his Royal Flush. On the other hand, my sister wasn't showing anything exciting, but she could always have a few of the three missing wild cards down. I looked for her tell to see if she was bluffing, but her fingers never touched her hair. Megan was sure she had the better hand and was doing her best to remain calm.

Megan drained a nearly full glass of wine before she looked at me and said, "Can we take a short break? I need to talk to my brother in the kitchen for a minute. Barry, could you be a dear and keep an eye on my cards?"

The Professor rose to his feet. "I'd love a time out. My bladder is about to burst. Perhaps, Doug can do me the honor of guarding my hand?"

I followed my sister as she stumbled into the kitchen. To be honest, I was also feeling the effects of the potent weed and too much wine. Megan waited until she heard the bathroom door close behind the Professor.

She spoke in a whisper. "I need to review the rules with deuces and jokers wild. It looks like your friend might have a Royal Flush, but I don't know if it beats five of a kind. I've seen several hands won with five of a kind tonight, but I haven't even seen a straight flush."

My sister had a good question, but none of us had ever done a mathematical analysis of the probabilities with six wild cards.

"The house rule is that five of a kind beats a Royal Flush. Shit, Megan, are you holding five aces?"

Megan giggled. "Maybe."

She paused a moment before smiling her biggest smile at me. "The Professor has been bluffing all night, but even if he has a Royal Flush, I have him beat. Is my sweet brother willing to loan me some money if the betting gets a little wild?"

I heard the bathroom door open. I didn't know who might be lurking in the hallway, so I whispered my reply.

"Sorry, Megs, I agree that the Professor is probably bluffing, but I told you before we started that you were on your own."

My sister raised her voice. "Come on, Steve. It's a sure thing. All I have left is forty dollars. It's not fair for him to win by betting more than his opponent has. He's been doing that all night and I'm sure he's usually bluffing. I have to take him down. If you're not going to help, I'll use the eighty dollars I left home with."

"Megan, you promised you wouldn't."

"Steve, it's a sure thing. Besides, I never promised you anything."

Megan headed back to the living room while I got a glass of water. When I got back to the table, Megan had lit up another joint. I watched her cross her long tan legs. Her miniskirt barely covered her panties, and her upper leg was bouncing around from too much adrenaline. She took a second long hit and passed the fat joint to the Professor. He handed it to Barry without taking a hit. I realized he'd never had any more of the potent weed after his first hit.