.Strippers Poker

The cards turned against me, next.  “Finally,” Tom muttered.

I brought Erica out.  She asked for a pencil.  That was too short for her to use as a pole, so I got chemistry stand and held the top end. She spun around and around, unhooking the shoulder straps one at a time, pushing the overalls down, and finally literally jumping out of them.

To everyone’s surprise, she had no panties on.  And she was clean shaven.  She made both points clear for a second, turning quickly around, with legs wide, then blushed and covered herself, running to the safety of her cage.

I got thirty chips.

Tom lost next.  He only had one thing left to offer.  He brought her out and pinched a wrist between each thumb and forefinger.  She was lifted up on tiptoe, arms stretched, no way to cover herself.  “Can I start the bidding at five chips?” he asked.  All four women gasped at the realization they were up for grabs in this manner. Miss Roth started to whimper.

There were no takers.  Like I said, on some boards they’d have been clawing for just such a victim.  Not us.  Tom shook his head, gathered his dolly up to his chest and went to sit at the desk in the corner.

We tried to ignore the sounds of him trying to play with her.  Well, the guys did.  The women stared.

The game started to move much faster, then.  With only three players, one could only win a maximum of twenty chips, but the bets didn’t change.  Chips still changed hands at a speedy rate.

By the time Rolly had to put Susan up for auction, Chris had discovered that Angie didn’t shave her pussy.

Rolly cared a lot more about pendulous boobies than pubic hair, so he offered a trade of women and twenty chips.

They both went out on the same hand and happily carried their women to neutral corners.  I ignored the licking, sucking and occasional sounds of tiny hands slapping ineffectually.

Erica stepped out of the cage and looked up at me.  “You, uh, you won?”

“I did,” I said.  She was down to her socks and bra.  I told her to take the bra off.  When she did, I handed her back her shirt.

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about a woman half-clothed, but bare-assed, that really, really turns me on.”

She quickly donned her shirt and stood there, twisting a little in her socks.  I could see that she wanted to pull the hem of her shirt down to cover her ass, but she didn’t.

“What now, Mal?” she asked.

“Just like the rest of the evening,” I said.  “Whatever I want.”

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of it?”

“Standing there, with your nipples poking through your shirt-“

“I’m cold!”

I reached out and wrapped a hand around her left thigh, tugging her closer.  She stutter-stepped over.

I brushed a fingertip over her breasts.  “I have been fascinated by these since the first time I saw you.”

“Please,” she pleaded.

I worked a finger from my grip on her thigh, up her ass, teasing along the cleft between her cheeks.  She shivered in my hands.

I pushed the other hand’s finger in against her pussy, light strokes, then up under her t-shirt, caressing her belly, then her boobs.

“Mal, stop,” she tried to command.

“No,” I said softly. 

“Mal, this is rape!”

“Yes,” I agreed.  “And you’ve been cooperating very intelligently.”  Just then there was a slap and a wail from somewhere in the room.  She flinched but couldn’t break my grip.

“Mal, I’m very disappointed in you.”

“Maybe, but you won’t remember this tomorrow.”  I grabbed both of her thighs, one in each hand.  “Lift your shirt,” I commanded.

She obediently grabbed her hem and tugged it up over her breasts.  I rotated my hands, easing her down onto her back on the table.

She closed her eyes and whimpered as I forced her legs apart, gazing at her pussy, watching it open.  I licked it.  She tasted hot.  Hot and wet.  I licked from her pussy up to her breasts, taking an entire boob into my mouth to suck on, one at a time.

I saw her hands clenched in fists, wrapped up in her shirt’s fabric.