We push the door open and enter the saloon, an old-fashioned place filled with leather furniture and dimmed lights. The guests are few and well dressed. The overall impression is that of a 20s movie, a meeting of underground masterminds or maybe a gangster lair from the time of the prohibition. Tuxedo wearing bodyguards eye us suspiciously as we head to the big oval table in the middle of the room and take the seats with our names on them. We both try to ease in in our own separate ways - Sandy orders drinks, flirting with the waiter, trying to sneak in discreet questions with her confident smile serving as both sword and shield, me taking time to steal a few glances at the exotic company surrounding us and, last but not least, at our extravagant host.
Richard, in the very center of the room, is sitting in an enormous chair of what appears to be some rare variety of snake skin. He is slowly drinking bourbon from a crystal glass, his eyes studying his guests for the evening. Rumors have it he likes to keep fresh blood around him, so most of the people here are newcomers, just like us.
I can’t tell if he’s worried or excited, his perfect poker face is seemingly stripped of all emotion. His grey waistcoat looks so natural over his white shirt that I find it difficult to imagine him stripping out of it. Our eyes meet and he gives me a grin.
I shrug off the doubt and recompose my own poker face. This is not our first game. Sandy and I have been going to poker nights for five years now, and strip poker has always been our favorite. Other men might object to their girlfriend stripping in public, but for me it has always been the opposite. Sandy has a slim, sculpted body. Her small breasts are perfectly harmonious with her well-rounded hips and her blond hair falls just enough to slightly cover her nipples when she’s naked. I love the stares of other men as their eyes devour her body, I love seeing the jealousy in their eyes, I love the dirty looks they give me when we leave at the end of the evening, knowing that I have what they can not ever have.
Sandy has always adored being stared at, I can always sense her blooming with pride as she twists ever so slightly to offer a better view of her breasts, her thighs, her ass. She is like a painting, an art piece, a flame that draws you in. She spreads her legs and men can’t help but drool, their eyes transfixated on her in silent adoration. But always I’m the one who takes her home and after every poker night, having exposed her body for all to see, I am the one who quenches her insatiable thirst, her never-ending lust and desire to be taken.
It was through our numerous nights of gambling and stripping that we gained a notorious reputation, which eventually led to an invitation to this extravagant soirée. The rules tonight are simple. Each player enters with exactly 10 pieces of clothing and starts with 50 chips. The blind is always 2 chips and we can bet as much as we want. For every 5 chips lost, an article of clothing must be removed. When someone is completely naked, they’re disqualified from the game. The last man standing wins 100,000 dollars courtesy of our host.
This is why tonight is so exciting. It’s an exquisite place with an exciting atmosphere and exotic guests and certainly making them strip would be a treat on its own, but most importantly, most importantly of all - by the end of the evening we could be filthy rich.
The game starts and we languorously sip champagne as the first few hands fly by, our slow gestures revealing a lazy, almost disinterested attitude, the attitude of a poker player carefully observing the competition. Sandy loses a few hands and eventually her scarf, but I’m 4 chips ahead at a healthy middle ground of 54. There are thirteen people around the table -12 guests, 6 men and 6 women, including Sandy and I, and there’s our mysterious host, like a king among his courtesans.
We carry on playing for half an hour, trading chips back and forth. Everyone is playing carefully, many people chose to fold and the game is advancing slowly. Behind light smiles and nonchalant remarks hides a careful testing of waters, all the while the prospect of the 100, 000 dollars remaining unspoken but creating an almost palpable tension in the air.
A few hands later into the game one of the gentlemen, a curious middle-aged man with a bright turquoise coat, loses his nerve and goes all in against Richard. The rest of us curiously observe this first major confrontation, but it turns out to be a brief one. His hand is good, but not good enough. Richard piles the chips as the poor fellow strips naked, his bright coat now in a heap of clothes. He carries on watching the game for some time and then decides to leave.
Time passes, cocktails are brought in and empty glasses are taken away, an illusion of familiarity settles in between the players and they become somewhat bolder. Some accumulate chips while others slowly strip.Two of the ladies, sitting on the opposite side of table, smile at me in their bras, but I can read the nervousness behind those smiles, the unease - one I’m sure is not due to the lack of clothing - and I try not to let the picture of piles of cash cloud my thoughts.
On my right, Sandy is playing now completely topless, her bold strategy having backfired she decided to expose her breasts while keeping her lower clothing - even her shoes. I smirk. Doubtless, later she’ll claim that it was a strategy to better distract her opponents. While undeniably true to an extent, as even I can’t help looking, I know the real reason well enough. I see the excitement rise in her eyes and part of my pressure fades away. I say to myself that regardless if we win or lose, this is still going to be an incredible evening. I wonder how Sandy is going to react to this unusual, exotic even by our standards situation, whether she’ll ask for some sort of roleplay or she’ll be at the brink of her patience and just shove me to a wall even before we get back to our apartment.
As the first hour of play nears one of the ladies grows thin on chips. With a small pile of only 7 in front of her, she stands nervously in her underwear. Her breasts are full and firm and beautiful. But not as beautiful as Sandy’s.I turn my head from the woman and look back to my girlfriend, to which she reacts by spreading her legs under the table. Her panties are still on but I’m sure it’s not for long. I stop staring and concentrate on the game.
Two hours in, there’s only six of us left. To be honest I didn’t think we’d make it this far. With every eliminated player my hopes of winning the prize go up. On top of that Sandy is still in the game as well and either of us winning means we get the money. So we have a one in three chance.
There are two big competitors we have to beat - Richard and an extravagant canadian woman, both with over 200 chips piled in front of them. I have doubled my initial 50 into almost a 100, which, by no means a small feat, ensured me a footing into the end game. On top of that the two other gentlemen, barely clad and drinking vodka with a sort of grim determination, have only some 20 chips in front of each, so with some luck they’d be soon out of the game.
Sandy, with some luck and wits, has regained her original 50 but frankly I’m a bit worried about her. I’m counting on her as an ally against either Richard or the canadian woman, but she seems more keen on getting naked than winning the money. Oh well. All things considered, we have a fair chance.
Suddenly Richard rises and the woman calls. I sense the danger and immediately fold. A card is flipped and he rises again. By the time she realises that he has the winning hand it’s far too late. She folds but ends up losing most of her chips and we finally get to see what’s under that long dancing robe. She’s thin with fine delicate features that radiate dignity, even in her nakedness. In the next two rounds I deal her the finishing blow, removing what little she had left, and she joins the other disqualified spectators.
At this point my worst fear comes true as Sandy goes all in. I watch in horror as she loses all of her chips and proceeds to strip. She’s gorgeous as ever. And stupid. And I’m almost certain she did it on purpose. She just couldn’t resist getting those stares. I know it. Now completely naked, she spreads her legs more and and more, opening her wet sex to devouring eyes.
Anger wins over excitement and I cringe. We were almost there! And she had to blow it. For what? Getting naked in front of people?! 100,000 dollars! We could have had 100,000 dollars and she had to do it!
My head is filled with a red haze and I quickly lose most of my chips. I’m so angry that I almost go all in but in the last moment I manage to restrain myself. Even so, my precious 100 chips have shrunk to a pathetic 30.
Fortunately for me, I’m not the only one distracted by Sandy. The other two, and even Richard, in his green snakeskin fauteuil, they all seem to have their minds elsewhere and their play becomes sloppy. I know an opportunity when I see one and I try to do my best to keep my angry and desperate look, baiting them into overconfidence. I manage to fool them and cash in a sizeable advantage.
Quickly after that one of the men falls prey to Richard and is finally out of the game. The other one is trying to focus but it’s obvious that his eyes are still on Sandy. And she loves it. Even more than that. She adores it. There is a moist spot visible on the leather chair beneath her, her short shallow breaths are making her breasts bounce up and down every time like in some delirious fever. I’m almost sure she’s making an effort to strengthen the effect, or is it just natural talent? I can imagine adrenaline pumping through her veins, her innate exhibitionism taking the upper hand and sending her into a powerful endorphin rush. Whatever it is, It seems to be working. The other man is eliminated soon after and even Richard, with his stone-like composure loses a few hands to me.
In fact, with the other man gone, we’re the only two left. My chances of winning have gone up again and I’m almost ready to forgive Sandy. This head-on 50/50 looks doable. Maybe it was her plan all along to lose on purpose so she can distract the others and make me win?
My mood is improving and I play a few decent hands against our host. But my luck ends there. The next ten minutes turn into a nightmare as all the cards are against me. I try to fold as much as I can and play conservatively, waiting for a good hand, but the blinds keep coming. I lose hand after hand, as Richard grinds me down in a slow, methodical, deliberate way, until I have almost nothing left.There is only so much I can do as the last of my clothes and credits disappear. The dream of a hundred thousand dollars evaporates in thin air, sucked in that snake smile of his. In a few short minutes I lose the game.
The last player remaining besides Richard, I stay silently in place as the guests leave the room. Sandy gives me a disappointed look, pouting, not in the least eager to put her clothes back on. As I’m about to take my stuff and leave, Richard makes a discreet gesture towards me. I stand up and walk to him, going all the way around the luxurious table. I’m completely naked and he’s still in his nice suit. I’m not quick to be put to shame, but the contrast between us is rather unsettling. The snake skin seems to glisten, as if the man and the chair form together some unimaginable thing, some unspoken demon of gambling. He leans in and speaks to me.
I can’t believe my ears. He wants to give me a second chance! Looking at him, incredulous, I ask what’s the catch. Richard leans back, smiles, then points to Sandy, and then pats the chair beside him. Before I have any time to take this in, let alone respond, he sweeps away his pile of chips, leaving two sets of 30. He grins a wild smile and winks.
This is an offer I can’t stand down. I go back to my place and look at Sandy. She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, going to sit beside Richard.The cards are dealt. The first hand is good. I raise from 2 to 5 and Richard calls. We reveal what we have and he loses to my pair of kings. He has 25 chips and I have 35. I smile - for the first time in the game, Richard has to strip. My satisfaction is short lived as he tosses his waistcoat aside and rolls up his sleeves. The game is on.
What follows is a fearsome back and forth. We gain and lose chips with no decisive swing either way. Unfortunately a pair of aces tilts the game in his favor and I cringe my teeth as I drop down to 24. Then I realise that something’s out of place. We’re still playing strip - Richard removed his waistcoat a few hands ago - but I’m already naked. I look up inquisitively to our host and realise that he has his arm around Sandy’s waist. He looks back, mischievously.
Sandy doesn’t seem to mind. She avoids turning towards him, seemingly playing timid, but the posture of her body gives her away. Her hands, buried between her legs as if to cover herself, actually put her breasts on wonderful display, her elbows squeezing them together and pushing them forward. The view excites me as it always does, but a different feeling is growing deep inside me. I’m starting to realize that I no longer have any grip on the situation. Without fully realizing it, I have wagered my girlfriend.
The next few hands come and go and before I know it I’m down to 20. The uneasiness of the unknown settles in and I reluctantly glance at Sandy, in time to see Richard push her hands aside and slide his own between her legs. I stare at her with furious intensity, but she doesn’t want to meet my eye. She takes quick short breaths, her breasts are bouncing up and down, her face turning a mild red color. A thin line of sweat drips down her cheek and I find myself incapable of concentrating on the game. I fold and call without looking.
The nightmare continues and when I go down to 12 Richards casually picks Sandy up and pushes her on the table, bending her over. Her hands extend forward with her palms pressed firmly down on the shining black marble. Her hair falls down in a breathtaking mess, obscuring my view of her stomach and breasts. Her eyes are anchored down and try as I might I’m unable to meet her gaze. Transfixed, I watch helplessly as Richard extends his arm behind her. Paralyzed, I sit, not being able to see what’s happening behind her, her soft moans letting me know each time his fingers sink inside her. I try to stand up but the hand of a bodyguard pushes me firmly back in my seat. Before I know it I’m surrounded by several tough guys, letting me know that I can’t intervene.
But it’s too late. When I tried to stand up I turned my cards and he saw my hand. I’m down to 10 chips. This is my last chance. It’s 10 versus 50, but it’s still possible. I just have to beat him!
Suddenly Richard stands up and brusquely positions himself behind Sandy. A wicked smile on his face, he runs a hand on her naked back, sending shivers down her spine. Cards still in hand, he circles her, slowly, caressing her hair, her arms, her breasts. Sandy remains still, like a lamb frozen in the lair of the wolf, her palms seemingly glued to the table, wide apart, leaving him free access to any part of her he desires.
His slow predatory circle ends and he’s once again behind her, I can see him undo his belt, open his zipper and pull down his pants. He smacks her ass violently, producing a muffled scream. Sandy’s face flushes even redder and she spreads her legs for him.
I’m petrified. He places a hand on her hip, pulling her in and starts fucking her. For a few moments her moans are the only sound in the room. Then the cards are dealt. I stand speechless as Richard rises to 10 without even checking. I have no option but to go all in.
Sandy finally lifts her head up and I meet her eyes, an ocean of pure euphoria and excitement. And there’s betrayal. I betrayed her, putting her in that position, I betrayed her, wagering her against the possibility to win 100,000 dollars. And now she’s betraying me, with her soft moans and her legs spread wide open and the rhythmic movement of her hips. Which betrayal was greater, mine or hers, I’ll never know. I can’t pull away from her gaze. I can’t help watching. Our eyes stay locked for what seems like an eternity, as I see excitement build inside her like a great river behind a dam. She’s being jerked back and forth and the bitterness in her eyes is drowned in her lust. I wish to scream that I’ll save her, that I’ll win the game and then we’ll both go home. But there’s something in her look that stifles the words in my throat. A lunatic plea - not a plea for help, but a plea to leave her right there. It terrifies me.
Sandy finally breaks eye contact and bows her head as Richard keeps fucking her.
“I’m all in!” I shout. “All or nothing!”
Richard stops. The tension in the air is thick, suffocating. Neither of us have looked at our hands.
“Fine” he says.
He stands next to Sandy, who is still breathing heavily, but she doesn’t look up or close her legs. The dealer lays all the cards on the table. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Richard smiles and gestures towards a few of the other bodyguards. They line up behind Sandy. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
His hand starts caressing Sandy again, going up her thighs, his fingers sliding along her wet lips, her body twitching from anticipation. I can’t bare to look at her , her ass raised for the five bodyguards behind her, Richard’s caresses pulling a sort of soft whimpering out of her.
The cards are up. I have nothing. Richard has a pair. Dark desperation raises within me. I stare at Sandy. Richard steps aside and the first of the bodyguards comes forward. As I’m escorted out, I see her close her eyes and raise her ass higher for him.