Symon & Michelle - Poker Night

Michelle's heart was thumping wildly. They'd practiced this opening, this set-up, at least a dozen times. Practiced his delivery to indicate that she was just some hired hand, like a specialized, perverted caterer's waitress. He performed even better than she'd hoped.

Symon paused, preparing to finalize the beginning, getting the guest's explicit consent and agreement to following the rules. Michelle looked up, her eyes traveling to each of the men as Symon called his name and got the affirmation. She was pleased. He'd brought her a rainbow of maleness, a variety of shapes and sizes and colors and heights. She'd definitely have to figure out how to thank him properly.

Symon said, "Samuel, do you agree?"

Samuel said, "Yes, I do."

Samuel was the one man she recognized instantly. She'd seen him at the club on numerous occasions and they'd gone to parties with him and his partner. Samuel was very tall, athletically built and thin. His skin was darker than ebony, and his hair was cut very short. He had soft, dark brown eyes, and a large mouth. She'd seen his cock before, but had never been intimate with him. She knew it was long and thin, like him.

Symon said, "Josh, do you agree?"

Josh said, "Yes, of course."

Michelle realized she'd seen Josh a few times at the club, but didn't know him. She thought they'd said 'hello', maybe passed a dozen words together. Josh was much shorter than Samuel, or Symon. Michelle thought that in these heels, she might even be taller than him. He had light brown, very curly hair, starting to go grey at the temples. He was white, probably the oldest person in the room, and had a paunch, verging on beer belly. His eyes looked blue to her, and twinkled brightly. He made eye contact with her and smiled broadly, inclining his head.

Then Symon asked, "Ian, do you agree?"

Ian attempted to speak, cleared his throat loudly, and then managed, "Yes, Symon."

Ian was the blond, his skin pale and ruddy. His hair was longish, lanky, and very light. He was taller than Josh, maybe taller than Symon, but not as tall as Samuel. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips, and Michelle spied an interesting sized bulge at the crotch of his jeans. He grinned too, and she thought he was the youngest person there.

Next she heard, "Terrell, do you agree?"

When Terrell spoke, his voice rumbled, low, and somewhat surprising to Michelle given his thin frame. "Yes, I do, Symon, of course."

He was about the same height as Ian, with green eyes. His skin was the color of chocolate milk, his face thin and angular, and his nose was long and aquiline. His hair was about the length of her hand, in small sections twisted and locked together so that the pieces stood up from his head. Dressed in a looser fitting shirt, his physique was hard to assess, but she thought he was muscular. From the way he stared at her the whole length of Symon's speech, she assumed he would be the first person to present himself to use her. When he realized she was looking at him, his face broke into a huge smile and his eyes lit up. She couldn't help but smile back.

Finally, "Sanjay, do you agree?"

"But of course, Symon," replied Sanjay in that lilting accent Michelle associated with highly educated men from India or Pakistan. That mellifluous mixture of British upper crust and Hindi that rolls off the speaker's tongue like honey. Michelle shivered in anticipation, hoping that Sanjay liked to talk when he fucked, or pissed. He was closer to Josh's height, and also older than Ian or Terrell. His skin was the color of good caramel, and his hair and eyes were dark brown. He was also a little rounder, but without the obvious paunch.

Her own man, Symon, was about six feet tall, white, with dark brown hair. Of course she knew him intimately, the shape of his ass, her favorite cock, the feel and smell and sound of him. But tonight, she would have variety.

*~~*

Michelle never played poker; she had too hard a time keeping a straight face. She knew she had too many tells to ever win. She understood the basics of course. In addition to the privilege of screwing her, the men were playing for a modest cash pot, each of them buying in with fifty bucks. She supposed that the game would continue until someone won all the money, or they got tired. Symon had said that there was no guarantee that all six of them would fuck her, if they were really leaving it to the rules of the game.

Symon was supposed to have explained to them that each man would get at least one turn, before they left it up to the skills of the players. So, if any man had the most money a second time around, then the man with the next largest sum would be declared the winner, and so on. Once all six men had fucked her, then they would decide whether they wanted to continue taking turns, or actually let skill decide. Or even if they wanted to continue the game. Of course, no man was obligated to do anything, and could forfeit a turn or opt out entirely if he wanted. The winner at the end of the night would in fact go home with the money.

Michelle stood near the corner with the tarp, watching the action, paying attention to the food disappearing from the table. She periodically walked around, collecting empty cans, and obviously discarded food. They all managed to find some reason to touch her butt or trail a finger along her leg.

A couple of hands in, Terrell stood and walked to her in her corner. He smiled softly, as if he wasn't entirely sure he could do what he intended to do. She met his eye, and stepped onto the pile of towels, then knelt down. She spread her knees, the skirt barely falling into the space.

Terrell stepped onto the towels, a few inches from her, and put his hands on his fly. She shook her head slightly, and reached for it herself. She smiled as she undid the button and the zipper, spreading the opening and reaching in. Helpfully, he was going commando. He shifted his hips, and she gently pulled out his dick.

He froze, momentarily, and she scooted closer to him, looking up at him with the tip of his penis resting on her mouth.

"I'm sorry, um, C," he whispered. "I've never actually. I mean, I've thought about. I want to. But I've never. You know, pissed on..."

Michelle smiled brightly, kissed him lightly. "It's ok, sir. I'm an expert at this. Just let me. I'll settle you, and when you're comfortable just let go. I've heard it's helpful to close your eyes, at least at first."

She realized all the other chatter in the room had stopped. The someone cleared his throat and made a comment about someone else needing to call or fold already.

She opened her mouth wide, and placed Terrell's handsome prick on her tongue. Then she licked around it just enough to help him slide in further. She placed her hands on the backs of his thighs, getting him to lean forward just slightly, then she swallowed softly to pull his prick a little further into her mouth. When his head was far back in her mouth, she opened wide and angled her head so he'd be able to see into her mouth if he wanted. His eyes were closed, so she closed her lips and pressed just slightly, to try to indicate that he was secure.

Then she waited. She couldn't very well tell him she was ready, and realized she'd made a mistake by not coming up with some kind of signal. Just when she was about to tap his leg, she felt the first trickle of urine in her mouth. She breathed in through her nose, and looked up to see Terrell looking down at her. She tried to smile, and that seemed to do the trick. He let his bladder go and soon her throat was full of his hot piss.

She closed her eyes, savoring the heat and the smell and the utter filth of it. Her pussy twitched and jumped and she gulped down his acrid urine. She really wanted to touch herself, but that would come later. He emptied himself into her, and after his stream subsided, she eased him mostly out of her mouth, then sucked the last few drops out of his urethra. He stepped back, and shook his head when she offered to put him away.

He was grinning and shaking a little as he did that for himself. He bent down and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks, C, that was amazing."

She smiled. "I hope you win," she whispered, winking.

Terrell had no sooner sat down than Sanjay got up and approached her. She doubted he had any of the misgivings that Terrell had. Sanjay stood directly in front of her and extracted himself before she could reach up. His cock was shorter, but one of the thickest she'd ever seen. Her eyes widened.

Sanjay said, "C. I'm in need of relief, and I like to see where my stream is going. Are you able to accommodate that?"

Michelle wasn't sure she'd be able to accommodate him at all, much less keep her mouth open while it was happening. But she looked at his face and said, "Sir, I will do my best."

"Excellent. Open."

Sanjay clearly had much more experience than Terrell, and Michelle found herself responding automatically to the commands of a veteran top. She kneeled up, tilting her head back, allowing her jaw to open as wide as she could. She put her hands behind her back, giving Sanjay the space to place himself on her tongue exactly where he wanted. He positioned his tip, then tilted her head back some more, and she leaned forward slightly.

Sanjay waited, and somehow controlled the strength of his output so that it was mostly a trickle down her tongue. His hot urine coated her tongue, filling her mouth with that bitter, musky smell. Sanjay managed the intensity of his output masterfully. He was giving himself time to talk to her, and soon she found herself almost mesmerized by his voice.

"Your initial, 'C', stands for 'cunt' I presume," said Sanjay. "An appropriate designation, I should think, for one such as yourself. You hire yourself out for men to use. A trophy in a card game. A receptacle for waste. To be ignored unless in use. Displayed for anyone to look at. I should expect to find you on a corner tomorrow night. I would use you then too. And I will use you tonight, C."

He was finishing, the last few dribbles sliding in her mouth. He wrapped his hand around his cock, tapping it on her tongue, as though shaking it out at a urinal. As he put himself away he said, "When I win, I'm taking your ass, C."

He turned and went back to the table without another word. Michelle's heart beat rapidly, her desire raging. She reached over to the wall, where she'd hung a hand towel, and wiped off her face and hands. She remained kneeling on the towels, heart thumping, counting the seconds until the timer would squawk.

*~~*

The timer buzzed, startling Michelle, who had been drifting in a haze of anticipation. Samuel was declared the winner, and Michelle wondered if that was orchestrated. She stood between the towels and the table, gazing demurely at the floor as Samuel approached her.

She opened her mouth, and then twisted so he could see her ass. "Your choice, sir?" she asked.

He pointed at the towels. "First I need to take a leak. Then you need to make me hard. Then I'll decide."

"Yes, sir," said Michelle, stepping back to the middle of the towels.

As she knelt down, Samuel extracted himself from his pants. His cock was as long and lean as she remembered, and she shivered slightly at the idea of it filling her mouth. She positioned him in much the same way as she had Terrell, but Samuel then pushed himself deeper into her mouth. When she felt herself almost gagging, he stopped. Unlike with Symon, she couldn't take Samuel's flaccid dick completely in her mouth.

She breathed carefully, and wrapped her hand around his shaft and balls. Her hand looked so pale next to his onyx skin. She stared at her hand, wishing she'd had a chance to take a picture. But that was out of the question. She looked up, her sightline full of Samuel's torso and he glowered at her. When he pissed, he just let go entirely, full force, almost shocking her. She jerked slightly from surprise, and his dick came another inch out of her mouth. He frowned, and shoved forward. Michelle managed to hold her ground, and once she was used to the sensation, felt her familiar enjoyment.

The hot liquid surging into her, the smell, the taste, and the intimacy of the act all combined to stir her arousal. She felt pleased with herself at being able to handle it, and the utter disregard with which Samuel was standing there, not even looking at her, enhanced her feeling. She reveled in her knowledge that few people would understand why she was willing to do this, much less enjoy it.

Soon enough, Samuel was finished, the last trickles spurting onto her tongue. She helped him slide out so that she could suck the remainder out of his shaft, then began licking and kissing him. She gave several long licks from his base, making sure to attend to his balls as well. She felt him thickening and growing, so she took his tip in her mouth and suckled, while pumping her clasped hands along his length. Once again, she was struck by the contrast of her pale skin on his.

Samuel had been anticipating this event. He'd had to work to remain soft enough to urinate, and so it took very little ministration by Michelle for him to become completely erect.

He stepped back, away from her mouth, but with her hands still caressing him. "Stand up please. And lean over that table."

Michelle got up, tottering somewhat in her ridiculous heels, and went to the table. She positioned the bottle of lube where it was easy for Samuel to reach, then leaned forward, bracing herself by holding onto the table edges. It was a fairly narrow table, one that usually went next to the couch, so her arms were not spread far.

Samuel came up behind her, tapping her legs to get her to widen her stance, and pressing slightly on her shoulders. She leaned down onto her elbows, now bent almost ninety degrees. She felt Samuel add a dollop of lube to her backside, then felt the plug sliding out. More lube, and then Samuel's hands behind her, spreading her cheeks, and holding the tip of his cock at her asshole.

Without any warning, he pushed in, and she knocked into the table. He pulled out, added more lube, and shoved in further. On the third try, he got all the way in. He added more lube and started fucking. He didn't speak to her, he just pumped his hips and Michelle rode the sensation of his long cock opening and filling her. In a few strokes, Samuel had established a rhythm he liked and had grunted a few times.

Michelle had her head down, shielding her broad smile from the men. She couldn't appear to be enjoying herself too much. But she was, already.

She heard an unfamiliar voice say, "So, Samuel, how is she?"

Samuel intoned, diffidently, "She'll do. It's fine. But, it's not like it takes a lot of skill does it?" He kept pumping while he talked. "To spread your ass cheeks and open up, like a five dollar whore. I mean any hole will do, when that's all you want. Right, Josh?"

Michelle blushed and almost moaned at the added titillation of the degrading things Samuel was saying. And at the almost bored tone of voice he managed to say them in. He kept moving in her, thrusting fully in and out, his pace quickening slightly.

Michelle heard Symon say, "Well, she better be better than fine. She cost me a hell of a lot more than five bucks."

Samuel laughed, and she thought she heard a couple of the other men doing so too. Then he said, "I'll let you know when I'm finished. Don't y'all have cards to play?"

There were sounds of men shifting, rustling of cards hitting the table. Someone's chair scraped. Someone asked another man to toss him a beer. Seemingly from a great distance, she heard the rattling of the ice.

Samuel kept fucking, and Michelle tuned most of the rest of it out. She listened to her own breathing, listened to Samuel behind her, trying to anticipate when he was about to climax. He wound up not giving any signal she recognized. She didn't hear any noticeable change in his breathing, and his pace only picked up slightly. Then, suddenly, he shoved hard into her, sending her knocking into the table again, and her head falling forward. He stopped moving, then leaned into her, jerking very slightly. She felt his cock twitch just a little, then he was pulling out.

As soon as his head exited her, he pushed the butt plug back in its place. It felt really strange then, because it was thicker and shorter than Samuel's cock had been. She sensed her rectum molding itself to that shape again. She stood up, swaying slightly, and Samuel caught her shoulders and helped steady her. He squeezed her shoulders quickly, then kissed the top of her head. The he walked away, back to the table.

Michelle felt herself blushing from arousal and a whole host of mixed emotions. She made a circuit of the room, collecting discards, offering to get beer. Then she went to the kitchen to get some more ice and drank some water. When she came back into the dining room, Symon started the vibration in the ben wa balls, since he had the remote control in his pocket. She tried not to react, and had what she hoped was a quiet or at least subtle orgasm as she resumed kneeling between the towels and the table.

*~~*

At the next alarm of the timer, Ian was proclaimed the winner. Michelle had already been standing in the spot between the towels and the table. She smiled encouragingly at him as he walked around the card table toward her. She knew he was at least twenty two, for Symon to have picked him, but she doubted he was much older than that. He smiled almost shyly, his long blond hair falling into his eyes as he closed the distance.

He had already unfastened his fly and partially unzipped by the time he reached her, and Michelle noticed that the bulge in his jeans didn't lie. His dick was as long as Samuel's and as thick as Symon's. She felt some anxiety about what might happen next. But when Ian stepped up to meet her, his gaze was fixed on her chest, and she remembered what he asked earlier.

She caressed her breasts, and squeezed them together, delighting in watching his eyes light up.

"You wanted these, sir?" Michelle breathed in her best sultry voice.

"Ye—", Ian's voice caught again, and he cleared his throat once more. "Yes. I will fuck your tits, C." His declaration had the sound of a person trying on authority to see if it fit.

She nodded and bowed slightly. "Yes, sir."

After a short discussion and a little bit of fumbling, Michelle wound up kneeling by the table, her feet hooked around the legs, and her head leaning on it. Ian stood in front of her in a half squat, poured lube in her cleavage, and Michelle opened her hands to squeeze her breasts tightly together. The angle was a bit awkward, but Ian managed to make it work, thrusting between her mounds enthusiastically. She tilted her head down, opening her mouth and touching her tongue to her chin. The tip of Ian's jumbo sized member brushed over her tongue with each upward thrust.

When it seemed like his energetic motion might topple Michelle backward, Ian helpfully took hold of her shoulders to steady her and pull her toward him. Ian's orgasm arrived quickly and abruptly. He gasped once and his cream erupted. While most of his jism made it into Michelle's mouth, a large glop landed on her cheek.

As Ian was finishing, he sighed deeply. He smiled broadly and nodded to Michelle as he put himself away. She looked up, noticing Symon staring at her. Reflexively, she started to wipe Ian's errant juice off her cheek, but Symon shook his head subtlety. Ian helped her to her feet and she moved back toward her spot near the towel as Symon stood, tossing down his cards.

He reached her quickly, and looked in her eyes. Seeming to ignore her costume, his look was questioning. He used his index and middle fingers to clean the globule of Ian's spunk from her cheek.