Strip Poker Dice

I wrote of this event a couple of days after it happened a few years ago. The events I relate are absolutely true and both they and various events in the ongoing situation since have provided my wife and me with a tremendous spur to our love-making.

My lovely 33 year old wife is about 5' 4" tall and in both my opinion and that of most of the guys I know, she presents a devastatingly sexy appearance.

She has a truly beautiful and sexy face - with very full lips to a deliciously wide mouth which is set in a soft and unblemished complexion. Her blue eyes are very expressive and when looking at a man, an innate shyness means that she tends not to lift her face - so the resultant effect of her glancing upwards, seemingly with a look of lust, is undeniably sexy and suggestive of enormous promise. In reality the habit is wholly innocent and although she herself is genuinely unaware of the man's reaction, the allure of apparent seduction is nonetheless irresistible.

All those parts of her body which are not hidden by a bikini during summer are normally tanned to a delicious light brown and they truly complement the sexiness of her face. She has lovely and full 36'' breasts whose dark nipples contrast with the un-tanned whiteness of the rest of her tits; and whenever she walks along with her customary firm, almost heavy footsteps, they pucker into hard nubs of eroticism as they rub against her clothing. Although she has had two children, her breasts still stand proudly from her chest and whether or not she is wearing a bra', they sway heavily under her clothes and tremble with her walking in the most exciting manner.

From my own experience, her nipples are unbelievably sensitive to touch and I am frequently able to excite her to orgasm just through gentle fondling and sucking on them.

Below her bikini line hides a neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair into which I frequently bury my face and suck at her lips and clitoris before we get down to the main act. At such times I love to hold her legs as wide open as possible while I slither my tongue into her vagina. Her reaction to this is a delicious combination of lust at the effect of my tongue and a deep embarrassment at the helplessness of her lewdly spread and vulnerable position.

Talking of embarrassment, I have always been aware that she is unbelievably shy at the merest thought that anyone other than me might accidentally see her naked; and I was used to her taking every precaution to ensure that nothing other than the merest hint of her charms was ever revealed in her daily dress.

Being aware of the depth of that shyness, I knew that if anyone should ever actually see her even partially unclothed, she would be embarrassed beyond belief. Surprisingly, my knowledge of the likely depth of her embarrassment served only to heighten the eroticism of a fantasy which was slowly beginning to grow in my mind.

I found myself becoming increasingly aroused at the thought that other men might see her either partially naked or better yet, completely nude.

Conversely to her likely embarrassment if she were ever to become exposed in front of others, I had sensed for some time that she almost certainly had a latent exhibitionist streak in her which was likely to more than overcome any shyness if she were sufficiently aroused. I realised however, that even if I was correct in my theory, she certainly wasn't even remotely aware of any exhibitionistic tendencies within herself - latent or otherwise.

I therefore needed to encourage her into scenarios where her body could be revealed to others - knowing that once she became aware of the exposure, the eroticism of the situation was more than likely to overcome any of her inhibitions - and therein lay a deliciously perverse excitement for me.

Originally, I wanted any exposure to appear accidental, so that nothing would become 'formalised', so to speak. In that way I reasoned, I could always retrieve the situation by dismissing any exposure as wholly inadvertent.

Before the event I am about to relate, a couple of situations arose when I managed to contrive her partial nudity, knowing that a friend might see parts of her body if he should chance to look her way. Sadly, the guy in question missed out on both occasions; which was a shame for him, because he'd often told me how much he envied my being able to see her naked whenever I wanted. Interestingly enough, when I later told my wife what had happened and she realised that she might have been 'inadvertently' exposed, I could sense her subconscious arousal and sex that night was unusually physical!

As my fantasy gradually developed, I became torn between exciting feelings of deep lust and worry at the possible outcomes.

The questions were legion - did I really want to share her nakedness with others, or was it just a fantasy which would be better kept as such?

Would I feel ashamed if I helped it to happen - or would she feel ashamed if it did?

Would I think less of either her or me - or might she?

Would it ruin our marriage - or could we contain it within the parameters of our relationship and once in the open, embrace it as an exciting addition to our sex life?

Examining the potential of the fantasy a little more, I began to wonder whether I should want it to go even further and actively end up sharing her body with someone else. Once identified, I found that far from being a no-go addition to my fantasy, this new idea was unbelievably arousing – with the result that I eventually determined to put aside my concerns and venture forth.

The opportunity arose one afternoon after a friend (also an employee) and I had been on our way back to the office during the late morning and had met my wife in the town. We all ended up having lunch together in the local Trattoria; and later on, had gone to our home for coffee and Calvados before Peter and I had to go back to work.

After a few drinks however, the three of us began to loosen up; and a return to work seemed increasingly unlikely. Music was played on the hi-fi and light speculation was made of what we could do, rather than return to the dreary old office routine for the remainder of the afternoon.

The full effect of lunchtime wine was also taking effect, so I suppose it was inevitable that three people in their early 30's should find the conversation turning increasingly suggestive. There was general talk of husband and wife relationships, which gradually turned specific as Peter told us how little his wife appeared interested in sex after the birth of their daughter. In turn, and to Caroline's obvious embarrassment, I not only said how much I adored my wife but then expanded on my theme by announcing how sexy she was in bed.

Peter showed a great interest in the subject of my wife's attractions and before I could stop myself, I began to describe how I'd taken various photographs of Caroline both dressed and undressed - and that one or two of them were really quite compromising. The more Caroline tried to divert the conversation away from the delights of her naked body, the more her embarrassment excited me to enlarge on her attributes and without actually describing in specific detail, Peter became well aware that Caroline was not only sexy in bed but really quite a lusty and adventurous person whenever the situation allowed.

Obviously full of inebriated hope, Peter offered more and more suggestive remarks, eventually making it quite plain how much he'd like to see proof of my descriptions; and had it not been for my wife firmly putting her foot down (albeit with a smiling and somewhat flushed face), I think I might have happily shown Peter some of the photos we had upstairs.

In the event, we moved off the subject of photography, in favour of Peter drunkenly trying to persuade my little wife to do a strip-tease; but despite a deepening of her facial flush, she remained adamant and smilingly refused every suggestion he made.

'What about a game of strip poker with dice then?' I suggested flippantly as a throw-away remark. I noticed a flush instantly rise on Peter's face and Caroline looked at me with a look of amused indulgence.

'Oh yeah', she said smiling,

'You can just see your posh little wife peeling her clothes off in front of Peter here can't you. I don't think so my darling - this body's for your eyes only when we're alone. It's not for friends, however close and trustworthy they may be'.

'Oh come on Caroline, why not?'

The instant response had come from Peter and he was obviously feeling the effects of what we'd been drinking, because further words came tumbling from his mouth like floodwaters from a burst dam.

'From where I'm sitting, it looks like you've got a fantastic body under those clothes and if you won't let Peter show me any photographs, then I reckon real life'd be the next best thing! You're really cruel if you won't take a chance on us seeing you in the raw when you lose ........ sorry 'bout that .... I mean If you lose. Anyway, I know I'd peel if I lost and I'd be bloody embarrassed too .... so what's the difference?'

There was silence for a few seconds. Then, seizing the moment before she had a chance to irretrievably alter the situation's potential by terminally censoring the idea, I went to the cupboard and got out my poker dice and said very positively,

'Tell you what Peter, if either you or I lose, the other one chooses what clothes have to come off and then Caroline takes off whatever it is from the loser."

"What happens if Caroline loses then?" he asked.

"Well ...... what say you, If Caroline loses, I choose what comes off and you have to take it off her. Is that fair, or what?'

'Agreed' he said and before Caroline could object, I put two dice down on the coffee table, kept one for myself and said,

'Highest dice starts. It also nominates the number of throws and sets what's to beat'.

'I don't think so', drawled Caroline with a dubious half grin but now not quite so negative as before. Then to my surprise she enlarged on the terms, rather than denying the principal,

'It's all right for you guys; but it's two to one in your favour and you've both got more clothes on than me."

Then as an afterthought she added,

"Anyway, I still don't think I'd want to go the whole way, irrespective of what Peter says he'll do if he loses.'

I reassured her,

'Oh come on darling, it's only a bit of fun. Let's see what happens. Then if you really get embarrassed and don't want to go the whole way, we can always stop before it goes too far. As for clothes, well I reckon we should count up what you've got on now and Peter and I'll take off items to equal it up.'

'You're on.' Peter said enthusiastically reaching to undo his shoe-laces. 'How many things have you got Caroline?'

Before she could demur, I started to enumerate,

'Jumper, shirt, mini skirt, two shoes, pair of tights, nicks' and 'bra - that's about it isn't it darling, except the hair-slides which don't count?'

'Well yes, but .......'

'Say no more my love .... Peter - we take off our watches and jackets. We keep on our shoes, socks, trousers (just for the moment that is - har, har!), boxers, shirts and ties. OK?'

'Absolutely.' Peter left his shoes on and removed his watch and jacket.

'There we are then, ready for the off'.

Caroline giggled, also just a little tipsy from the wine we'd all been drinking.

'Do you know darling, the things you get me involved in! Well, all right then, I'll play for a while and see what happens .... but I don't reckon I'll finish, even if you two do'.

Looking towards her, I could visualise the lovely familiar breasts which lay hidden beneath her clothing and wondered whether Peter would be lucky enough to see them shortly.

I remembered the night before, when she had walked naked across our bedroom, her tits swaying deliciously - their large dark nipples puckered into thick stalks of eroticism and highlighted by the whiteness of the un-tanned parts of her body. She had seen me watching her and at the same time rubbing at my cock in excitement.

'Do you really want other people to see me naked like this?'

She was referring to an earlier conversation we'd enjoyed over dinner, when the talk had reduced to the usual sexy level after a couple of bottles of wine; and I had been subtly hinting at how very much her body would appeal to others if they should see her either naked, or with something 'accidentally' showing. I'd been careful to keep the conversation within the bounds of speculation but hadn't realised that she had long since analysed exactly how strong my fantasy actually was. She was now accurately hitting on my thoughts as she stated the obvious and then followed it up with a tease,

'You're just a randy sod really aren't you darling? But then again, perhaps you're right - perhaps we'll just have to contrive a situation sometime where we can see what other people think of my body then, shan't we?'

That night was the first time she had ever taken the initiative in my fantasy. Normally, she either indulged it half-heartedly to please me when making love together, or she dismissed it as altogether perverted and tried to divert the conversation.

Now however, and in full sight of Peter, her speech and actions indicated she might be going along with the fantasy. I could hardly fail to notice the outline of her nipples beginning to harden - despite the 'bra, shirt and thin jumper which covered them; and notwithstanding her protestations, it was obvious she was becoming very excited.

Surprisingly, my own pulse rate started to increase as it dawned on me that my initial flippant suggestion suddenly looked likely to come to fruition. I hadn't really thought she would ever do it; but now it seemed, we were about to play the very game.

Far from withdrawing from the idea, I desperately wanted my gorgeous little wife to lose, so that she would end up at least partially naked in front of Peter and he would at last be able to visually feast on the body I knew he'd been lusting after since he'd first met her.

Apart from erotic fantasy during lovemaking and moments of solitary excitement, I had never really been too sure about letting Caroline show too much, even when we went out dressed up for an evening. I suppose I had always been too worried someone might make a pass at her when she'd had a few drinks and she might become vulnerable to any serious seduction which followed. Sometimes I had considered that despite the short term thrill of others seeing her, my fantasy might well turn into a nightmare for us.

But now?

Well, now my excitement was rising at the idea, largely because I could feel relaxed in knowing from experience that Peter was totally trustworthy. I had developed a close friendship with him, despite the employer/employee relationship at work, so he was unlikely to do more than thoroughly enjoy the one opportunity of his boss letting him see his boss's wife naked. He certainly wouldn't take advantage of the situation by following it up later un-invited; and nor would he speak about it to anyone else.

I noticed that Caroline also was now breathing faster - a slight blush once again prettily spreading up her neck to match Peter's excitedly glowing face.

We started to play dice and on the first throw, Caroline nominated a full house in one, which resulted in her laughingly removing the first of Peter's shoes. Shortly afterwards, he lost the other one and then she removed both his socks. Then I lost my shoes, plus a sock; before Caroline lost her own shoes - one after the other.

After the next throw I had to discard my other sock and then Peter lost. I nominated his trousers. Caroline grinned at me momentarily and as Peter stood up to enable their removal, she looked shyly over at him.

'Are you sure about this?' she asked and when he readily affirmed that he couldn't back out now, she nervously moved over to stand in front of him and began to un-buckle his belt.

'Does this count as a clothing item?' she asked almost hopefully, pulling the belt out through the loops.

On being told that it did not, she quickly undid the waist catch and tried to pull his trousers down without undoing the zip. Peter smiled at her and slowly undid his own zip as if her were a stripper performing for an audience. Un-impressed by his amateur theatricals but obviously embarrassed, a slightly pink-faced Caroline leaned down again to remove them. Her eyes were level with his waist and I noticed her covertly peer through the opening as Peter made as if to pull down his own trousers.

I heard myself encouraging her, 'No, don't let him do it darling - you take them off for him, then perhaps you'll actually be able to see what he's hiding under there .... I can see you're looking!'

Blushing furiously now as a result of my drawing attention to her peeking, she pulled his trousers down to his ankles and Peter stepped out of them before quickly sitting down again, the front flaps of his shirt covering what I suspected was a growing bulge in his boxers.

With a sigh of relief that it was not me who lost the next round, I made a choice and directed Peter to take off Caroline's tights. She jerked up to look at me with a questioning frown but said nothing. I glanced at my wife and both of us gave a resigned shrug before she turned away to stand in front of Peter with a challenging and really quite naughty smile on her face. Her hands were resting on her hips.

He turned my wife around and working from behind her, he reached his hands around her waist and through the almost crotch length buttoned-up split in the front of her mini skirt, in order to grip the waist of her tights. In doing so, I was sure his fingers rubbed across her sex.

She had a with a wide grin on her face as she looked at me; and then exaggeratedly lifted up her arms to hold her hands in the air, as if demonstrating that she really had nothing to do with what was happening around her lower body.

Peter began to pull down her tights but it proved impossible to stop her panties coming down with them, unless he were to fumble around separating them.

Despite his protests that the tights wouldn't come down without the panties, Caroline immediately censored the idea when she felt a wandering hand again brush 'accidentally' across her sex. She doubled over to stop him doing anything further and then I made the suggestion,

'Tell you what love, to save you have Peter fumbling around there twice, why don't you just let him take your panties down now and then you've got a freebie the next time you lose? At least your jumper, blouse and mini-skirt will preserve your modesty until you have to bare all!'

It was duly agreed and we played a couple of 'no wins' before I lost the other sock and then my tie (thanks to Peter arguing that a tie was a genuine piece of clothing for the purposes of the game).

On the fourth throw, Peter lost again and despite his recent consideration for me in agreeing a tie as an article of clothing, I reneged on our brotherhood and nominated his boxers. After all, I argued when he complained at my decision, Caroline was trying to sit there modestly with her own panties off, so why shouldn't he keep her company by being in a similar position himself?

Also, I had noticed that Caroline was now showing great interest in Peter's crotch again and I wanted to offer my naughty little wife every opportunity to have a good look at whatever he had to offer. I was already fantasising about what she would see when she removed his boxers and how she would react to the sight.

She needed little persuasion this time and after standing up again, she reached forward under his shirt and roughly pulled his boxers down. As she did so, she released the end of his already hard cock, which flipped out through the gap between his shirt tails before slapping upwards against his stomach and disappearing again behind the cotton.