Pokeher

This story is a work of fiction. All characters are over the age of 18. I hope you enjoy it and any feedback is appreciated.

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Pokeher

Recently I enrolled in a continuing education class for creative writing at a local state college in my area. Little did I know at the time how 'creative writing' could lead to such interesting situations. As most aspiring writers, I had envisioned writing the next great American novel. But like many, I got a job with a software company writing instructions manuals and such. It paid the rent. I thought taking this class would help me get kickstarted on my novel.

At the first class I observed that many of the participants were older than me and I was probably one of the younger students. That was until I noticed a girl sitting in the back of the class. She was certainly near my age, wore a bulky sweater, large framed glasses, and her hair was long and covered half her face. At first glance from a distance she looked like a Bag-Lady in training. At the time I didn't give her a second thought.

At the beginning of the third week the professor announced that we would be doing a team project. We would be divided into two person teams to collaborate and write a short story. This seemed odd to me but it was supposed to help us actually flesh out ideas and communicate clearly. As he read out names, we would hold up our hand so we could see our partner and meet after class.

I raised my had as he called my name. Then he called out Amy Post. I begin to look around the auditorium and didn't see a hand raised. As I turned around, I saw the girl with large glasses and bulky sweater, who sat on the back row, with her hand at half-mast. I smiled at her and she just looked at me with a blank stare. I immediately realized this was going to be a challenge.

Our first meeting was, to be polite, awkward. I could not tell if she was shy or just disinterested. We met in one of the small study rooms at the Library. We discussed the project and actually made some progress. After the meeting I wasn't sure, but I thought we got along OK.

As the weeks went by, we made progress on a short story about a guy and a girl who both were shy but were able to find a way to connect. At times I wondered if she thought it was semi-autobiographical. None the less, as the deadline approached, we decided to meet daily.

One day after working for two hours I suggested we take a break, grab a beer and relax. To my surprise she said yes. It was amazing how her demeanor changed after a couple of beers. She was more relaxed and we actually had a good time. She still dressed like a dumpy old lady, it seemed like she was hiding; afraid to be open to the world. But we got along and actually laughed a bit, and after sometime she actually began to open up.

As the project went along, we had more beers together and she turned out to be a very sweet, but still a very guarded girl. We discussed writing, books we had read, current events, and the like. She was very bright and now and then when she pushed her hair back a bit, I think under the hair, glasses and bulky clothes was a pretty girl. As our daily meetings progressed, and our post beer and talk, we begin to fall into almost a feeling like we were old friends. But I let go of any idea about actually dating, for she was still very shielded and I didn't want to upset our working arrangement.

Then one afternoon after our second beer she confided she wrote short stories and posted some online, using an online made-up moniker. When I asked her to tell me so I could read some, she declined. And then retreated back into her bulky sweater persona.

I gave this no thought, that was until our next session at the Library. After our session, which was very productive, she got up and left. As I was packing my backpack, I noticed she had left one of her books behind. I picked it up and decided I'd see her soon and give it back. Then I noticed some papers folded up in the back of the book. My good guy said ignore it, but my curiosity guy said look at it. It was a good move. The papers had the name of a webpage and her moniker, along with some hand written notes. Well, this was gold. I was dying to read some of her stuff and learn more about her. After working closely for these last few weeks, I was sure there was a swan beneath that ugly duckling persona.

When I got home, I fired up my laptop and went directly to the site. I was more than surprised when what popped up was an erotic literature site with all forms of erotic stories. Of course I immediately went to the story that she had just posted under her moniker.

I was amazed at the writing, it was good, but the story was unexpected. It was about a girl who had submissive tendencies and fantasied about a guy she knew at school. She was working on a project with him and didn't know how to approach him. Well, this got my attention. I kept reading. After finishing a writing project, they decide to have some drinks. They get a bit tipsy and decide to play strip poker. I mean, strip poker is such an old cliché. I continued. It turned out she wanted to lose. She wanted to have to strip naked for this guy and then, as the rules they set out, she would do whatever he wanted for the next hour.

I could not believe what I was reading. I kept asking the question as to why she would leave her book with a paper giving a direct path to her stories. It could be just an absent-minded mistake, or maybe she wanted me to find it. Either way I did find it and I did read one of her latest fantasies. My mind kept going back to one question that had lingered in the back pages of my thoughts. What was under those bulky sweaters?

Our project was almost finished so I had to return her book just as it was when she left, and make her think I had no idea about her story. Next, I needed to make a plan to set up a situation that could lead to a card game. I was now getting excited.

We got together a couple of days later at the library and as we were getting started, I grabbed my backpack.

"Oh, Amy, you left this at our last meeting," I said, pulling out the book. I was curious to see her reaction.

"Oh, thanks," she said in a rather nonchalant way. I couldn't even see a hint of surprise, or any emotion for that matter. I made a mental note and we got to work on our project.

We put the finishing edits together on our short story and decided to call it done. I have to admit it was pretty damn good story and we had worked well as a team. The project deadline was next week, but we could submit it via email to our Professor. We sent it off.

After I pushed 'SEND', Amy got up and began packing her backpack.

"See you in class next week," she said. "Good work on the project. I hope we get an A," she smiled. With that she got up and left. I was a bit surprised at her abrupt departure, but I still had my plan, and I had some work to do before I could set it in motion. I would make the invite to grab a beer after our next class.

On my way home I stopped at a convenience store and purchased two packs of identical playing cards. My plan was simple, but needed a bit of work. I wanted to be sure there were no surprises if I was able to actually get the Game going. If her story was actually a fantasy she wanted to live out, or if it was just a story, was uncertain. But she had left a trail of data that would lead me directly to the website and her story. It was time to do some work.

I didn't want to leave anything to chance. Even if she was going to try and lose, some strange occurrence of chance might spoil this outcome. I decided to 'rig' my coffee table to be sure all went my way. It was the obvious place to play the game and with an extra deck of cards I could be sure I had a winning hand whenever I needed it. Also, I planned to throw a few hands just to see her reactions.

I was able to rig a way to put a variety of cards under the table where I would sit. It took some practice sessions to get a smooth transition, but I must admit, I got pretty good at cheating.

Our classes were always held later in the day as many students worked. When I got to class, I noticed Amy sitting, as usual, in the back of the room. I went over and sat down next to her.

"Well, let's hope we get a good grade," I said.

Amy smiled at me, which for her had been difficult when we first started the project. "Don't worry, I think we aced it. It really was a good story," she said.

At that point our professor walked in to the classroom. "Well, I am pleased to announce that all of the stories were actually submitted on time," he laughed. "That is a new record. And, I was able to read and grade them all, so your teams will be receiving your grades later today. Just check online after class. I repeat, don't be taking out your phones or laptops until we finished class, for grades will not be ready until after class sometime."

Class seemed to drag on and on. I was a bit excited to see what grade we got, but I was overly pumped to see if my game plan would work out and if I was correct about Amy's absent minded book leaving wasn't so absent minded. When class was over, we both left together.

"Why not go back to my apartment to wait together to see our grade? I have plenty of cold beer there. No use paying extra money at a bar." I held my breath.

"Sure," Amy replied. "That sounds good. Let's go."

It didn't take long to get to my apartment. I grabbed us some beers from the fridge and we sat on the couch. Our time working on the paper and our afternoons drinking beer afterwards made it easy to fall into conversation. After our second beer we checked to see if the grades had been posted. To my relief they hadn't. It was time to see if the Plan would work.

Then paranoia started to rise. What if she was just setting me up? What if she actually is a militant feminist and gets off humiliating guys. I will just end up looking like a fool. She will have a big laugh at my expense. The battle of fear verses excitement was actually motivating. Onward with the Plan.

"It may be awhile before the grades get posted. Want to play cards? Just to pass the time," I said.

"Cards?" she said

"Sure, why not? I'll get us a couple of beers and I think I have a deck of cards in the kitchen," I said as I jumped up from the couch.

"Ok," she said with a small smile. "I need to borrow your bathroom."

I pointed to the hallway and she grabbed her large bag she always carries and went down the hallway. It was amazing how my heart rate increased as I went to the kitchen. I told myself to just go with the Plan. I grabbed two beers and returned to the coffee table and took my seat.

In a few minutes I heard Amy coming back down the hall. I began to shuffle the deck of cards while she sat down. When I looked up, I paused in mid shuffle. This was not the Amy that I knew that has been sitting next to me. It was a very different Amy. She had pulled her hair back into a pony tail, added some makeup, and had discarded the large glasses, bulky sweater and had on a nice silk blouse. I just stared...

"You OK?" Amy inquired as she snapped her fingers in front of my face and let out a little chuckle.

"Ah...you look, well different," I stammered.

"Glad you noticed. So, let's play."

I had a thousand question running through my mind. All this time I thought I knew Amy. It was obvious that she was smart, a bit shy, tended to hid behind those large glasses and bulky sweaters. But now...well I was stunned. The fear came back hard. Had I been played? I realized I wasn't in charge of this game, she was. Was the story just a trap? I was in too far now to back out. My excitement meter actually increased by a factor of 10.

"OK. How about Five Card Draw?" I said.

"Sounds great. I used to play some cards with my older brother. But he always cheated," she said with a smile.

Oh God, I thought. She knows what is going on. Yet, once I calmed down a bit I realized, I actually can't lose regardless of how this turns out. Or can I?

"Just to warn you, I'm pretty good," she said with a smile. "As kids we didn't really have any money, so we played for chores we each had to do. My brother spent a lot of evenings washing dishes. I really enjoyed seeing his face when he lost."

I just kept telling myself, "stay with the Plan."

"So, what's the bet?" she asked.

The Plan in my head said, go slow.... stick with the Plan. "Well, how about a dollar max per bet, I said."

"Oh," She said, "I don't have any cash on me. Take an IOU?

"Sorry, House Rules. No IOUs," I smiled.

"Well, all I have are the clothes on my back, so I guess Poker isn't going to work," she said with a small grin.

I paused, as if thinking. Well, that opening wasn't that subtle, but just stick to the Plan. "Ok," I said. "How about these rules. One article of clothing bet on each hand. The loser can decide which article to discard. Once one of us has lost everything, the loser must do anything the winner asked for one hour. Wash dishes, or whatever." I waited for her to object

"Strip Poker!" she said laughing. "That is the oldest guy trick in the book. She paused for what seemed like a very long time. "Sounds like fun," she said with that sly smile, which was difficult to translate. "I have always wanted some boy's jeans to wear around the house," she said eyeing my pants.

My heart was racing. I started to deal. I kept telling myself to stay with the Plan. The first few hands went my way and Amy lost shoes and socks. I let myself drop a couple of hands so we were even. But as we progressed, I started to use my under-table help just to be sure.

I felt like the tension level was escalating. Amy seemed calm, which raised my anxiety, but I had the Plan. On the next hand Amy lost. "Well, I guess you owe me the blouse." I said.

Now the game was serious. Would she chicken out and just laugh at me? My question was answered immediately as Amy stood up and began to undo the buttons on her blouse without any hesitation. My gaze was transfixed on the process before me. This was now getting very interesting and my member was already responding. I could feel my cock grow with each button.

She looked straight at me as she unbuttoned her blouse. Each button was slowly undone, one after the other. She knew exactly what she was doing. This simple act was highly charged. The game had begun in earnest.

When she finished the process, she slipped out of the silk covering with a grace and ease that in itself was very erotic. She threw the blouse on the couch and just stood there for a few seconds with this small smile on her face. It was a magnificent sight. The bra was lacy around the edges, but the material was close to transparent and her nipples where almost in full view. They were small, hard little buds that pushed at the material. The skimpy bra was overflowing with the delicate white skin of her amazing breasts. I felt my cock grow a bit more.

"Deal," she said as she sat back down.

I shuffled the cards, but my eyes could not move away from her naked breasts. This was not the Amy I thought I knew. Then my mind came back to the present moment. I dealt the cards.

I still had my shirt and a T-shirt, along with my jeans and jockey shorts. I decided to lose my shirt the next hand to just see what she would do. And as to Plan I lost my shirt. I had to pull the lowest cards I had stashed under the table to get a worse hand than hers, but the Plan was available.

As I removed my outer shirt, I thought I notice just the slightest change in her expression. In her mind this was not the plan she had? I smiled and looked at her as I took off my shirt. The tension increased and my cock strained against my jockey shorts and jeans, hidden under my long T-shirt. Once again, I dealt the cards.

As so-called luck, my Plan, would have it, she lost the hand. "I guess I get the pants now," I said with a big smile on my face. She didn't seem upset, but I did detect just the slightest hesitation in her actions. Her plan, whatever it was, might have been easy in theory, but reality was now setting in. She stood calmly and unbutton her jeans. They being rather tight, it made it hard for her to removed them in any elegant way. She tired, but almost failed as the top of her panties began to move down along with her jeans. She quickly adjusted and let her jeans fall to the floor. With a bit of bravado, she slipped one leg out and kicked toward the couch, releasing the other leg as the jeans flew and made a perfect landing. She stood there for a few seconds as if to say, "There..." before sitting down. But this gave me a great view of her panties. They, like her bra, were of a rather thin material and the lips of her vagina were clearly outlined along with a small wisp of public hair just at the top of her womanhood. A large wet spot appeared on the thin material.

This was a wonderful sight and my pulse was nearing running speed. My cock was almost painful. But I could see this was having an effect on her as well as me. I picked up the cards and shuffled.

Now the game was serious. Well, actually it got serious some time ago, but just now I realized it was real. I decided to see if I could get a reaction from her and lost the next hand. When I laid down my cards, Amy just smiled. This gave me a feeling that maybe she was just sandbagging me and was going to try and go in for the kill. Get me naked and laugh. That fear kept nagging me, but I still had my Plan.

I stood up and carefully removed my jeans. My cock was at full attention, and I was glad it would be covered by the long T-shirt. I smiled as tossed them on the couch next to hers.

"I looking forward to taking those home," she said with a wicked smile.

It was now time to end the game quickly. My cock was hurting and felt like it had expanded far past any other arousal I could remember. My heart rate made it hard to breath normally. I dealt the cards.

We each picked up our cards. I watch her carefully as I made my move under the table. I was glad I had practiced this movement for my hand was actually shaking.

Amy lost, as was expected. But this time she did hesitate. Her bravado seemed to have subsided as she had a choice of exposing her breasts or her womanhood. She chose the top. As she stood up, I was almost at my wits end. The reality of seeing her naked, and having her bend to my will for the next hour was becoming a reality. I hoped she couldn't hear my increased breathing as she stood up

This time she was more measured in removing her bra. I could not tell if it was for effect, or if she actually was having second thoughts of fulling her short story fantasy. She reached behind her and unhooked the flimsy bra. She held it against her body for a few seconds, the threw it on the couch with the other garments.

I failed to stifled a small gasp. It is hard to describe this view, this feeling as her naked chest came into view. You will say, well, they are just tits. And I had seen a few naked tits. But one must take into account how this moment came about, and one must take into account the beauty of her and her bared breasts. They were amazing. Full, firm with those tight little nipples poking out. They seemed more than ample for her frame, but she carried them with a sense of pride. Again, this was an Amy I did not know. But I was glad to meet her.

She stood for several seconds, almost in a stance of defiance. Then all she said was, "Deal".

I could see she was breathing a bit harder. I was breathing a lot harder. I shuffled the cards as best I could and dealt.

Now we were down to the final hand. All Amy still had were her panties. I still had my jockey shorts and they were covered by my long T-shirt. I had a Plan. Then once more the doubt came back with a vengeance. Whose Plan was actually the one in process. Would she just flash her tits to get me off guard? I had no choice now. I dealt the cards.