Nude Day Texas Hold 'Em

I went back up to the party and strolled casually around my five boys. I knew the sun behind me was creating a silhouette of my slim torso through the caftan. For the second time in one day I stopped all conversation amongst my friends. God, I am getting a big head!

"Guys, would one of you spread a towel on the sun deck? I'm a little sleepy from the food and drinks and would like to snooze in the sun for a while," I asked coyly. I swear I did NOT bat my eyes either. Once again there was a commotion of motion for the men to vie for the honor of waiting on her highness. Meat won this round by whipping out a white towel out of the storage bin he was closest to. He hustled over to the padded sun deck and dramatically whipped the huge towel open like a matador in the bull ring.

"Thank you Meat! Now I need one more favor; would you rub some sunblock oil on my backside?" I was facing away from my friends so I knew my best side was about to be introduced to my gang of five. I flipped back the hood, unzipped the caftan and let it drop to the teak floor like a new statue being unveiled in the city park.

I'm not sure who did it since I was looking out across the ocean but someone tipped over their beer and said 'Holy Shit!' It sounded like Condor. I'm not a vain person but damn it, I know what it means when a guy fumbles his precious beer like that. The red strings of my thong hugged my hips and disappeared down the crack of my ass. The tiny strings of my top were barely visible since they simply supported the front patches covering my baby titties.

I handed Meat the bottle of oil, laid down on the towel and said, "Get busy."

If you recall, I told you Meat is this hunky specimen who does international business deals on a daily basis and has his choice of air-headed women at Murphy's. He speaks several languages fluently but at this moment in time his response sounded like pig-Latin.

"What did you say, Meat?" I asked innocently.

"Why, I mean, where do you want it?" he stuttered.

"All over, silly," I replied in a breathy voice that I thought sounded sexy. I laid my head down on my arms, facing away from Meat and wondered how long it would take him to start. One other little devious trick I had was to take off my huge sunglasses and hold them away from my face a little bit so the lens acted like a mirror.

I could see Meat gesturing to the other four guys like a monkey in a zoo. It was easy to tell that he was asking for advice about how to go about rubbing oil on someone who, up until today, had been one of the 'boys'. My ass was humped up in the air like they do when a girl lays down flat on her tummy. I nearly laughed out loud when I saw the reflection of Art the Fart do a pantomime of a man masturbating.

Finally I felt the tentative touch of Meat's fingertips on my shoulders. He must have thought I was radioactive based on how light his rubbing was. I squirmed a little to encourage him to keep going. He added his other hand to the job and he started to get into a rhythm on my shoulders. His circular rubbing worked down to the small of my back and I felt him pausing at the swell of my ass cheeks.

Instead of continuing, Meat shifted positions and moved down to my feet. He oiled up his hands again and started working up my calves and thighs. Soon, however, he faced the same conundrum that he had on the top side-what do I do about this girl's ass? He paused so long that I sleepily called out to him, "Meat, my butt will burn if you don't oil it."

Again, I was eyeballing the other men in my glasses. They were all making shooing motions with their hands that meant 'get on with it you fucking idiot!'

Meat must have dumped half the bottle of oil in his hands because when he finally laid one hand on my butt cheek I could feel the oil run toward my crack. He must have noticed because he hurriedly tried to stop the drip from reaching my thong that was buried deep in my crack. In doing so his thumb slipped between my two ass cheeks like an otter diving into a pond.

I heard a kind of strangled cry come from poor Meat as he fumbled around trying to do damage control. My butt was getting massaged like a Kobe beef cow in Japan. What I noticed the most was that his thumbs were pulling my cheeks apart occasionally and lingering in that position a little longer than necessary. Yes! Thank you my Brazilian hand maidens!

I turned my head back to face toward the group and said, "Thank you so much, Meat. I'm sure that I'm well protected from the sun now. You can go back to your beer."

Meat was fidgeting around, still facing away from his buddies. He was surreptitiously trying to adjust his namesake body part which had apparently gotten aroused during the oiling ceremony. I glanced down at his crotch and saw what looked to be the center pole of a circus tent inside his cargo shorts. It was soooo funny. And soooo provocative.

He finally wrestled his anaconda down and shuffled back to his deck chair and gratefully downed the rest of his bottle of Corona. The other boys were pretending to not notice Meat's discomfort or my shining ass. When Bryan finally looked over at me I gave him my brightest smile and said coyly, "You forgot to tell us why we are on this special cruise. What's the obscure holiday you mentioned?"

Even though Bryan was visibly flustered by the erotic body massage he just witnessed, he managed to recover with the reply, "Um, yes, the surprise is will be revealed tonight after dinner. Just be patient."

"Okie Dokie, Bryan. Hey, wake me if I fall asleep too long on my tummy. I want some sun on my front side too," I replied.

I really didn't expect to fall asleep but damned if I didn't. It must have been the combination of warm sun, salty air and alcohol but all of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder. Condor said quietly, "Alex, you asked to be awakened. Is that ok?"

Condor kinda jumped back when I turned over quickly. He or the other boys hadn't seen the front of my micro bikini. His eyes were glued to the itty, bitty red patch barely covering my nether region. I stretched like a cat in a sunny window, arching my back. That move was a little wasted because of my lack of boobs, but I knew it would make my pelvis thrust upward and draw attention away from my flat chest.

"Honey, would you be a dear and oil my front? I'm feeling really lazy," I slyly asked Condor.

Now remember Condor is a tough, macho cop. He deals with a lot of shit in his job that makes him a little hard core on the exterior. With my request, however, you would have thought he was a gay interior decorator. He beamed from ear to ear at the other men who were shooting eye daggers at him for being in the right place at the right time.

The bottle of oil was snatched up quickly and like Meat, Condor started rubbing the slippery liquid on my safest outer limbs. His arms are so damn long that he could sit by my waist and still reach both ends of me easily. I was really enjoying this princess treatment. Maybe I'll hijack this yacht and enslave these boys to my harem.

Another side benefit I didn't expect was the sensuous nature of the oil massage. Condor was taking a lot longer than necessary working his way from toes and fingers inward. His hands were very hard from lifting weights but they felt soooo good I started to get aroused.

God has a way of compensating for flaws in her master blueprints of human beings. Witness the blind person with supercharged hearing and smell. In my case, because she chose not to grace me with much breast tissue I was given extraordinary nipples. When I get cold or sexually aroused my nipples get very large and hard. Condor was doing such a good job stoking my fire that I could feel my nips getting bigger by the moment. I was wearing my very dark sunglasses so I could surreptitiously watch Condor's eyes widen as he observed my nearly flat chest all of a sudden get much more interesting. My nips were like two hard lemon drops under my bikini top.

Condor to his credit did not falter too much as he oiled the rest of my chest and stomach. I bit my tongue to keep from giggling when I heard the deck chairs shifting around. Condor was blocking the other boys' view of the final frontier of the oil application!

The fabric of my red bikini was silky and clingy. My Brazilian wax left me bare as a newborn baby. Put those two facts together and there is very little left to the imagination for a trained observer like Condor. I knew without looking that my pussy lips were clearly outlined by the little patch of modesty the bikini bottom represented. His oily fingers were sneaking dangerously close to home base. I could feel one hand pressing on my pelvic bone that normally would have some vegetation growing on it. Condor's other hand was working upward from my smooth thighs.

I gave a tiny little groan of pleasure and spread my legs apart slightly to give Condor a better view and access if he chose to. His large hand slipped between my thighs and I'm not going to lie, I felt the very early stages of the big O. For me that means my insides get all tingly and I actually feel like peeing! Careful girl! Save some for the finale!

I cleared my throat and said, "Thank you Condor, that was so nice of you. I don't think there's a chance of me getting burned now." I gave him one my patented smiles and touched his arm in gratitude. Sure enough, there had been a flag raising ceremony in his loose shorts too. In his case I suspect he was going commando today because there was a little wet spot on his dark cargos. Hee hee. God, I'm so naughty.

Since I already had my siesta I decided to join the conversation by turning on my side toward the group of men who were in a semi-circle facing me. I propped up my head with my arm and smiled warmly at my boys. The sun was getting lower on the horizon but was it still intense as it was directly in my face.

Girls with rounded, womanly hips may have struck a better pose than mine at the moment but I did have the advantage of a very lean body so my pelvic bones were prominent and kinda sexy, if you lean toward the runway model look. This posture also made my bikini bottom nearly disappear between my thighs. I could see some adam's apples bobbing as my buds tried to reconcile the fact that just a few days ago I was just another one of the guys arguing who was better; Kobe or LeBron.

"So, what's for dinner tonight," I asked. "I'm getting hungry." All the guys knew I was a chow hound. I never share my food like a lot of girls do, thinking it made them look feminine. I've been known to distract other male eaters by pointing out the window and exclaiming, "Oh my God, look at the hooters on that skank!" That's when I would snatch some of their fries or onion rings.

"Geez, keep your pants on Neska," Art the Fart replied and then continued, "Oh, wait, you don't have any pants on." Art then hee-hawed like a mule, slapping his thighs at his own wit. Art the Fart seemed to be the least affected by my stunning beauty-I will make him pay-everyone must worship Alexis today.

Bryan answered my question after Art's braying subsided. "We will dine at sunset here on the deck in one hour. Anyone who wants to shower and freshen up should get a move on. After dinner we go below, play poker and celebrate the holiday."

"And what did you say the holiday was, Bryan?" I asked again.

"Nice try, Nebraska," Bryan retorted, "You will find out with everyone else."

You know my suspicions that all the others were in on this. I could see the little eye shifts from Meat to Condor to Rocky. I was already getting ready for poker by reading their facial tics. Ha! Phase 2 (or 3, I forget where I am now) is about to begin.

"Sure, Bryan, I'm just excited about it. You know how I love holidays," I answered. With that I got up, turned my back to the boys, bent over at the waist and picked up my caftan. Meat was my butt oiler earlier so he had a pretty good idea of how tiny my thong was. Dental floss may be thicker. I knew my butt cheeks would spread a little when I bent over but I did it with the confidence of native girl from Ipanema. My tiny, bleached anus would be clearly visible and winking like a hooker at a Navy Yard. Thank you, thank you, thank you my asshole bleaching sister; I'm writing a letter of commendation to your boss.

I stood up and draped the caftan over my arm. "Ok, boys, Alex is going to do her thing," I stated as I sauntered around them toward the stairs. I tweaked Rocky's kinda gnarly ear (a wrestler's badge of courage) on the way by. "See ya soon".

I won't bore you with all the details of my preparations but I will tell you that I dabbed a dot of Chance by Chanel (a gift from one of my thousands of admirers) under each ear, each nipple and on my upper thighs. The Frenchies call this liquid gold 'parfum'. I call it 'bait'.

Now it was time to reach into my tote bag of tricks and put on layer after layer of clothes that I brought along. All of the under-layers were very thin so I wouldn't look bulky. I had on three panties; starting with a tiny, sheer white thong covered by a black, French cut panty to the outer layer of My Little Pony cotton panties. On top, I wore a sheer, white camisole that matched my thong. I slipped on white, lace topped, thigh high Donna Karan nylons that felt like feathers encasing my smooth legs. The top layer was a cute baby-doll number I picked up cheap at Needless Mark-ups (I mean Neiman-Marcus). I put on some fuck-me pumps that I NEVER wear because they hurt like hell.

Are you sensing my strategy? Have you picked up the bread crumbs I dropped along the path of this story? Are you annoyed that there hasn't been any steaming, torrid sex yet? Ok, to review: National Nude Day; a poker night; Alex sucks at poker. Me thinks there may be a strip poker game upcoming with the gang of five conspirators who think they can take advantage of my large print face. We'll see....

I made my grand entrance in about seventy minutes (never be early, girls). The boys had set up a great looking, white linen table with mounds of catered food served family style. There were oysters on the half-shell in a bed of ice, cold jumbo shrimp as big as bananas, a veggie plate and gigantic strawberries next to a dish of whipped cream.

"Let's eat!" Bryan said as he rang the boat's brass bell. Rocky wrestled off the cork of a bottle of champagne which went flying up to the captain's bridge (for the wine snobs, it was a fine little 1998 Dom that would cost me a week's wages for sure). Rock filled everyone's glasses with bubbly and we all raised our glasses to each other and the spectacular sunset. Bob Marley was doing his thing on the sound system. Is this heaven? Perhaps.

Bryan (who is really kind of a softie) raised his glass and said quietly, "To best friends".

Condor is a closet poet so he raised his glass after Bryan's toast and stated loudly, "To friends: as long as we are able-to lift our glasses from the table."

The toasts went around the table until it got to me. I tilted my glass at everyone and stated my favorite, "Salud, dinero y amor," (Get out your Spanish dictionaries).

We all sat down and dug into the food like knights at a medieval feast. The food was sooo good and it was pretty decadent using our fingers to eat. The wine was giving me a major buzz and the conversation was lighthearted and filled with friendly banter.

Please allow me one more little aside that was realllly funny (are you getting tired of my detours?). I was feeding Art the Fart a strawberry dipped in whipped cream. Some whipped cream stuck on the side of his mouth which reminded Condor of a joke.

Condor is funnier than a rubber crutch when he's buzzed so he commanded our attention and told the following joke:

"A penguin is taking a road trip when his car suddenly breaks down. Luckily for him, he finds himself just down the street from a mechanic. So, he pushes his car to the shop and asks the mechanic to take a look. The mechanic tells him that it will probably take a little while to find the problem and asks him to come back in an hour.

The penguin goes over to the supermarket, buys some fish sticks and vanilla ice cream, and spends the rest of the hour hanging out in the frozen section. After the hour is up, he waddles over to the mechanic's shop.

Seeing him come in, the mechanic walks over, and wiping his hands on a rag, says, 'Looks like you've blown a seal.'

The penguin blushes, wipes his beak with his flipper and says, 'No, it's just vanilla ice cream.'"

No shit, I'm not kidding, we literally cried with laughter. Tears streamed down my face. Every time we calmed down, one of us would take a fingertip of whipped cream and wipe it on a neighbor's chin. That went on so long my stomach hurt. Tooo funny.

We all pitched in to clean up the table. When we were done Bryan rang his ship's bell again and announced in a pirate's voice, "Arrrrrr, mateys. All hands below decks before I keelhaul you!"

We all stumbled down the stairs; I needed a helping hand because those darn shoes. The yacht's salon was gorgeous. Nautical prints hung on the walls between the brass portholes. A glittering, mahogany trimmed bar displaying top shelf liquors dominated one end of the room. A round, glass-topped table sat in the middle of the room with six chairs. Poker chips and cards sat in the middle of the table.

"My friends," Bryan began, "we never seem to need a reason to play poker, but today is a special day. Today just happens to be National Nude Day. In honor of such a momentous occasion, I propose that tonight we play Strip No Limit Texas Hole 'Em poker."

Have you ever seen one of those tacky cat clocks where the eyeballs and tail flick back and forth with every second? That's what my boys looked like after Bryan's announcement. Flick at me, flick back to each other. It confirmed that they were all in on this gambit to get me naked, knowing my poor bluffing abilities.

I broke the silence after a minute, clapped my hands and exclaimed, "What a great idea Bryan! I'm looking forward to seeing your pathetic little weenies wagging in the salty air with all your chips in stacked in front of me."

Guffaws and chortling (and did I detect a little nervousness?) followed that statement as everyone grabbed a chair. Bryan seemed a little taken-aback by my easy acquiescence but he forged ahead by announcing the modified rules. The way he tied in the strip part of the game was to allow the winner of each hand to point out one other player to take off one article of clothing. Additionally, the first person to fold in each round had to take a shot of tequila.

The overall winner with all the chips would win the right to demand a special service of each loser (Bryan gave examples like a car wash or being a chauffer for a day). Everyone nodded their agreement and the chips were distributed evenly amongst us six players.

I won't give you all the rules of Hole 'Em but one aspect of No Limit was that you could go 'All In'. That means you push all your remaining chips in the center of the table and force someone to call the same amount. If you lose you are out of the game. Thus, another modified rule Bryan created was that the loser of an All In gamble had to strip off their remaining clothes and sit naked, watching the others finish the game.

We started the game with Bryan, our host and leader, on the button. (I'm going to throw around all these poker terms like a pro-I know the rules-I just can't bluff worth a shit). The big blind was Rocky and the little blind was Art. I was after Art the Fart, Meat was on my left and Condor was last.

The two hole cards were dealt and I took a quick peek. Hellooo bitches, I just got two very lovely queens. Since I was left of the little blind it was up to me to start. I chucked in chips to match the big blind and didn't meet anyone's eyes as I did it. Meat stayed in but Condor immediately folded and reached for the bottle of Patron and a shot glass that was sitting on the side table. Bryan stayed in for the flop as did Rocky and Art.