Poke Her Night

I was in my second year of University, studying for midterms in my bedroom upstairs. Mom was in Denver visiting Grandma. That left Frank, my stepfather, and me at home. So, it's Saturday night and he has some buddies over for poker and drinks. They're in the dining room swilling whiskey or bourbon and smoking fat stogies or whatever it is that frat brothers do when they're flying solo and free from the bondage of life. You know, that thing that men do when their wives aren't around. They howl at the moon like a pack of wolves and try to relive their youths.

Anyway, they're getting kind of loud and the music is thumping on the walls to the point that I can't focus anymore. I gotta fix that, right? I'm tired and thirsty and cranky and stressed; in short, a little bitchy. So I waltzed down the stairs from my bedroom into the living room, over to the stereo and give the volume nob a spin, then head for the kitchen to pour myself a glass of juice. I strut through the dining room, past three open-jawed middle-aged men and a glaring set of eyes from Frank. Into the kitchen, I go. I reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass for my juice. Then it's three paces across the kitchen, past the island to the fridge. I flung the door open with some authority and a blast of cold air rippled across my chest. I poured my juice and then slammed the fridge door shut again. I waltzed across the kitchen and then into the dining room right past the middle age frat brothers in the dining room again with my juice in hand and back up the stairs to my bedroom. I set my glass down on the nightstand and plunk my ass down on the bed then realize that I'm just in socks and a V-neck T-shirt.

I jumped off the bed so that I could give myself the once-over in the mirror that hung on my bedroom wall. Yup, I was sure a sight. Just the V-neck and ankle socks. I was naked otherwise; no bra, no panties, and an old, threadbare white T that barely covered my ass. I looked down and saw two pink nipples poking out. Now, when I say poking out, I mean poking. Not poking like poking out through a bra on a chilly day. I mean poking out like braless, fully erect nipples and the clearly visible outline of my pink areola. My T-shirt was sheer thin. You know, those worn-out t-shirts that should have made their way into the recycling bin a year or two before. They're like old friends that you don't have the heart to part with so you keep them long past their expiration date. It was like I had tried to cover a Playboy Cover Page with tracing paper. You could see the shape of each teacup-sized breast and the circular shape of each pink nipple as it transitioned from pink to the flesh tone of each breast. The V-neck was so stretched out and low that it hung to the bottom of my breast bone like one of those risqué gowns that movie stars wear to the Oscars for appearance and shock value. The hem hung down to just barely crotch level. I turned around to look at my ass. I did a few deliberate calisthenics moves to see the limits of coverage; I reached up, I bent down, I leaned over, I stood up; it covered the cheeks of my ass anyway, but if I leaned forward to about 45 degrees, you could see the crack of my ass from behind or my nipples from the front as the tracing paper garb billowed out like the spinnaker of a sailboat. I leaned forward at a 45-degree angle for a minute or so; looking down my top. Yup, I could see right the way down to my toes; my tits, my nipples, my pubic bone, and even the pink bows on my ankle socks. It was a clear view!

Oh geez, that's risqué! I giggled to myself. No wonder they were no objections when I turned down the music! They had their own private show, me prancing around like a half-naked Dorothy, "I'm off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz."

Honestly, it was quite unintentional. But then, what's done is done. Time is linear and you can't undo what you've done so I just giggled to myself and flopped onto my bed on my tummy and flipped my textbook back over. Two minutes later, up goes the music again. I just shook my head, rolled my eyes, plugged in some earbuds, and did my best to ignore it. I couldn't hear much but I could feel the thumping of the bass notes carried through the framework of the house. I could feel it and I could see the juice rippling in the glass that was on my nightstand.

About an hour later, my glass is empty and I'm pretty much spent so, I head down to the kitchen for a glass of water. Now, I know what you're thinking; and, yes I could have gotten a glass of water from the bathroom upstairs and no I didn't try to cover up. I've known these guys for years. There was Frank, who was my stepdad, and his buddies: Larry, Curly, and Moe or whatever the fuck their names were.

So I retraced my steps. I went down the stairs with my two pink headlamps leading the way. I caught them out of the corner of my eye; giving me the old once over as I came down the stairs. There were four sets of drunk and horny eyes peering up over their cards, running up and down my figure. They watched my tight quads flexing as I came down the stairs and my teacup breast swaying back and forth against my white V-neck T like two synchronized pendulums. I smiled politely, gave them a nod, and walked over to the stereo in the living room. I bent over, straight-legged, to 45 degrees, intentionally exceeding the safe limits of the lean angle with my back toward them. They got a full view of my ass and a little clam squished out between my cheeks. I made my way to the dining room and shuffled past them, putting on my best Mona Lisa smile, and into the kitchen with an empty glass in hand.

I stood beside the dishwasher and faced the dining room. I opened the door to the dishwasher and bent forward, straight-legged to 45 degrees and I put my empty glass on the bottom rack. I paused for a while to rearrange some dishes on the lower rack and then slid it back into place. I fiddle with the little soap door for a bit then stood up and closed the dishwasher. I couldn't feel the fabric of my t-shirt on my breasts any longer as they hung freely while I posed like a pinup girl for a downblouse photo op for the frat brothers in the dining room. I walked over to the cupboard, opened the door, and reached up to the top shelf, standing on the tippy toes of one leg like a ballerina in Swan Lake to get a clean glass. Then I thought, Nah, I wasn't finished playing my little game. I reached up high in the cupboard again and put my glass away and traded it for a cup.

I put the kettle on the stove, turned my back to the dining room, and leaned forward to 45 degrees, resting my elbows on the kitchen island with my ass sticking out. I plugged in my earbuds and loaded a classic pop tune onto my phone; 1992, Right Said Fred, I'm Too Sexy. I was bouncing my head up and down like a little bobblehead doll and wiggling my ass for the frat brothers. I was grooving for half a minute or so and then I felt a hand brush across my hip and then to the small of my back. It felt like the zap you get from static electricity. I straightened up with a start, yanked out one earbud, and spun around to see Larry standing there with a stupid smile on his face.

"What's up hun?" he said with a Cheshire grin on his face as he exhaled fumes of alcohol in my direction like an old diesel bus.

My first reaction was to slap him but then I thought; maybe that's not such a good idea, maybe I kind of crossed the line myself. I just casually leaned back against the kitchen island, crossed my feet in front of me, and looked shyly down again at my phone.

"Umm, well, I'm just waiting for the kettle and listening to some music," I said as I peeked up at him from under my brow like a schoolgirl.

"Oh yeah!" he said as he craned his neck to read the header of the soundtrack on my phone. "I'm too sexy?" he said with a chuckle. "Well, yes, you are! You are indeed too sexy."

He wasn't looking at my phone anymore. He was looking at my cleavage or my nipples, or something in that general direction. I couldn't be sure because they were both clearly visible but he was looking at my chest for sure. I slid over a little more against the island in an effort to retreat a little from him. Somehow, he saw it as an invitation to make himself more comfortable and he worked his way in beside me, putting one arm directly behind me, and craned his neck again to look over my shoulder at my phone. He wasn't though, not really. He was trying to look down my top again. He saw my tits when I put my glass in the dishwasher and he wanted another peek. He couldn't see much now, only cleavage and oh yes, my pink nipples through my tracing paper top. I kept looking down at my phone and glancing over at his crotch out of the corner of my eye. I could see a bulge in his pants. He wasn't trying to hide it either. His penis extended about six inches down his pant leg and lifted his dress slacks up about two inches. It looked like he had a garlic sausage stuffed in his pants. I looked back at my phone and then back at his crotch with clinical curiosity, wondering if he was circumcised or not. He leaned in a little further and bend down a bit until his cheek was next to mine. I could smell the bourbon on his breath as his nostrils blaster warm air down my top. My spinnaker top fluttered like a sail in irons for a moment and then settled softly against my breast as the bourbon breath squall abated.

"Can I have a listen?" he said as he reached for an earbud dangling in front of me.

He reached down, and grabbed the earbud, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger; as he lifted his hand, he slowly brushed my nipple with his pinky finger. I had that static shock sensation again. I pulled my chest in, bumped his hand away with my shoulder then I lifted my head quickly and look him in the face. He was gauging my reaction. He winked at me, then plugged his ear with the bud like nothing had happened and started bobbing his head like one of those stupid novelty dolls in the gift shop. He leaned his elbow on the counter and slipped his arm around my waist. He was rubbing my inner arm with the back of his and working the tips of his fingers down my ribcage toward my breast. He rubbed his thumb under my breast and he started bunching my t-shirt up into the palm of his hand. I'd had enough. I gave him a quick elbow in the ribs. He jumped back and the earbud popped out of his ear snapping back against my chest and his heel thumped against the floor as he regained his composure.

"What the hell is going on in there?" Frank's voice boomed as I heard the dining room chatter against the hardwood in the next room.

So I told him.

"Your pervert pal is trying to grab me!" I shouted back as I glared at Larry.

"What the hell do you expect?" Frank said in defense of Larry as he came bouncing into the kitchen. "You're dancing around here half naked. You wanted a reaction and now you have one! Deal with it! You like showing off like a jiggly party queen so show it off!"

Frank reached out and grabbed the neckline of my T and yanked it down to my belly button. My left breast popped out and I slapped his hand away then crossed my arm over my chest defensively pulling my top back into place. Larry grabbed my wrist, pulled my arm down, and planted it firmly down on the island beside me then put his other hand between me and Frank to ease the tension like a UN flag between two warring nations. The kettle was whistling furiously on the stove now and Frank shoved the kettle back off of the element and turned off the stove. The shrill whistle faded as the steam vented.

"Relax Frank!" Larry said as he tried to ease the tension, "She's just not sure of what she's doing. Right honey?"

Franks took a step back and looked at Larry for a second and then back at me with a glare. I still had one arm across my chest clutching my phone and my T-shirt at the same time, my earbud had popped out during the scuffle and were hanging down to my knees from the phone. I was panting, my chest was heaving, and short of breath like I'd just run the 100-yard dash. Larry reached out slowly. He held my one wrist down on the island as he reached up to move my other arm from my chest. I didn't resist as the tension between me and Frank faded. He repositioned my hand to my sides like he was posing a store mannequin then he let go. He tugged gently upward at the neckline of my stretched-out T-shirt trying to make the necessary adjustments to put it back in shape. I felt the back of his hand against my skin as it came between me and the fabric of my T. I could feel the tracing paper against my nipples as he pulled up at each shoulder.

"That's more like it!" he said with a smile, "We're all good now, back to where we were."

There was some disjunct between him and Frank. They had the same destination in mind but it was just a matter of how they got there that they hadn't quite worked out. They had mapped out two different routes in their minds and they had come to a fork in the yellow brick road. Larry was trying his route now. He was gentle about it. He still had my hand firmly planted on the counter. He had some leverage and wasn't going to let it go just yet. He put his hand on my shoulder and talked softly to me like he was trying to calm a scared little rabbit. He gently brushed the hair behind my ear so softly, like a feather touch; it was there but not there. It was a touch that was free from pressure but I could still feel it was there, just the ghost of a touch. I had the urge to scratch or brush it away but I resisted. His finger grazed over my skin from behind my ear, down my neck to my shoulder, down my chest then under my teacup breast. He cupped his hand like he'd worked his way into a baseball glove and then pushed upward. He gave a firm and deliberate grope of my breast as he watched for any sign that the rabbit was about to bolt. He was more confident that he could have his way now. He massaged my breast as Frank watched; riding shotgun. His hand moved up to my collar bone. He inched his fingertips under my T-shirt and then down for another firm grope of my breast as he watched my nostrils flare. He had three fingers under my breast and squeezed my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I shrunk back a little, moving my shoulder and arm forward.

I had lost control of the situation. I wasn't driving the bus anymore and they knew it too.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I said, "Just a minute!"

I didn't want to be openly defiant for fear of setting Frank off again. I put my free arm up between me and Larry. I pushed his arm slowly up and out from under my shirt. I gently peeled his fingers off of my wrist to free my other hand.

"Give me a minute here," I said calmly.

They watched as I tapped my way into my phone and the screen illuminated my face. I gave it a few quick swipes then turned it off, coiled my earbuds around it, and dropped it on the side counter.

"You wanna watch!" I said as I took a step toward Frank and pinched his lips between my finger, "You like to watch Frank?" Watch then!"

I put the palm of my hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back against the stove. I lifted my arms over my head and swirled my hips around. I pivoted in one spot doing my best impression of a hula dance with my T-shirt hiked up almost to my crotch. I was rocking my hips from side to side and then back and forth. I rotated them in small circles like I was stirring sugar into a cup of tea. I shook my shoulders until my breasts jiggles under my shirt like two cups of jello.

I thought, At some point, Frank is going to stop me. He'll put his foot down and send me to my room. I wasn't going to stop until he said so.

I was playing a game of chicken with Frank, who has the stronger will? I hooked an arm around Larry's neck and gave him a lustful kiss as unbuttoned his pant and pulled the zipper down. I slid my hand into his briefs and pulled his cock out from the leg of his pants. He was rock hard by now and he gave a little shiver as I pulled on his cock. I hugged his neck with one arm then lifted my knee up to his hip and started rubbing my inner thigh against his leg like I was ready to mount him. I tugged on his cock for a few strokes then dropped to my knees in front of him and pulled his pants down to his knee and I could hear his belt buckle clink against the floor as his pants bunched up around his ankles. I grabbed his cock and pulled on it like it was a garden hose. He was uncircumcised and the head of his cock was poking out halfway out of his foreskin. I looked over my shoulder at Frank like I was Salome dancing for Herod. I turned back toward Larry and ran my hand up his hairy abdomen as I continued tugging on his cock. I spread my legs and sat on my feet looking up at Larry.

Curly and Moe had been watching from the box seats in the dining room. Moe couldn't take it anymore and he swooped in for some action. He knelt behind me, put one hand on my hip, and swung his other around in front to grab a hand full of snatch. I wasn't expecting it at all. I clamped my legs closed and straightened up. I dropped Larry's cock and pushed him back with both hands. He was a bit pissed off that Moe had interrupted. He almost tripped over the pants bunched up around his ankles. He thought Moe had ruined his chance at a blow job.

"What the hell Moe!" yelled Larry, "Wait you turn!"

What? Wait your turn! I thought to myself. What does that mean? Do they think that everyone is getting a blow job?

"Fuck you, Larry!" Moe replied. "You wait your turn!"

Moe slid his hands under my arms from behind and lifted me to my feet. He spun me around so that I was facing him. He got me in a bear hug and started kissing my lips and forcing his tongue into my mouth. He had one arm around my waist and he cupped the back of my neck with his other hand so that I could hardly move. He slid his hand from around my waist and then up and under my top. He was pulling at my nipple and kissing me with a fiery passion. I could feel his full erection against my tummy and he started to dry hump me. He picked me straight up and plunked my ass down on the island. He put one hand on my knees and one hand in the middle of my chest and pushed me back like he was a baker stretching out a dough ball into some new workable form. I put my arms back to stop myself from falling and landed on my elbows looking down at Moe. I felt another pair of hands on my shoulder and I kind of craned my neck to see who it was. It was Curly! I saw Larry out of the corner of my eye pulling up his pants and looking at me with his mouth hanging open. So there I am, in the middle of the island like a lump of pizza dough, Curly at my head, Moe at my feet, Larry to the right, and Frank to my left.

"I just wanna see some pussy!" said Moe as put his hands between my knees.

He spread my legs for a clear view of my crotch. Curly pulled my T-shirt up to my belly button to unveil my pussy for Moe and his frat brothers. Moe rubbed both hands up and down the top of my thighs, from my knee to my hips then back again.

"That is just too fucking sweet!" he said as he looked at Frank.

I was kind of like a Barbie doll, everything was fresh and new; well, not brand new but low mileage for sure. I was clean-shaven and waxed clean. My clit and labia are hardly visible unless I get very excited, then they'll swell and protrude ever so slightly.

He cupped one hand behind each knee and pulled me toward him a little then he reached down and grabbed my ankles pulling them up to his waist, then he put my feet flat on the countertop. I was naked to the world from the waist down and I was propped up on the kitchen island like I was in the gynecologist's office waiting for my yearly. He pushed my knees further apart as he leaned in and planted a firm kiss right in the middle of my crotch. I could feel his nose on clit as he flicked his tongue up and down against my pussy. His thumbs pulled my pussy apart as he continued to nudge my clit with his nose and flick my inner labia with his tongue. He flicked and sucked and munched with great enthusiasm but he was a disaster as an oral lover and he just munched away at my cunt like he was chowing down a burger at Mcdonald's.