The Poker Game

Still straddling Stan’s lap, perched on the edge of the table, she swayed forward to dangle the three condoms in his face. As they swung out, Stan being Stan, he caught the middle one in his mouth. This re-lit the fire in Lynne’s eyes. She leaned further forward, trusting that Stan would catch her, and reached both hands into his lap. Stan held her up with one hand on each breast. Lynne unzipped his pants. Fortunately, Stan wore boxers, so she had little trouble reaching through the fly to grip his erect member and pull it out. She hopped down and stepped back over his lap, never losing her grip on his cock. He had no choice but to stand and then follow as she pulled him to the bedroom. Valiantly, we played on.
Stan returned in 20 minutes, looking dazed. Lynne had a fourth condom on her necklace and a renewed vigor. It was nearly 12:30 and she had two more trophies to collect.
Terry was next. Lynne made no more pretense of teasing or modesty. Instead of straddling his lap as she had with the others, she came around behind him, swinging the condoms over the top of his head and dragging them back. The newest one, still wet, stuck to some hair briefly. She reached around him and began unbuttoning his shirt. When the last button was undone, she pulled it off him, then gripped his tee shirt and peeled it up over his head. She grabbed both his nipples and rolled them between her fingers, pulling slightly at the same time. He tried to reach back and return the favor, but he couldn’t manage it from that position. Then she reached over both shoulders to keep him in place and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Grabbing him by the nipples again, she pulled straight up, so Terry quickly stood up. Using his confusion to gain the advantage, she quickly pushed his trousers and drawers down, dropped to her knees, and sucked his dick into her mouth. At the same time, she pulled his drawers to his knees. Because jeans were tight and no one had thought to remove their shoes in anticipation, that was as far down as she could get them easily. She pulled back and slowly revealed his cock, sucking hard, as she used one hand to play with his balls and the other to steady herself on his butt. The head of his cock slowly appeared. The very instant that it popped from her mouth, she jumped up and ran to the bedroom. Terry tried to follow and fell over, forgetting the location of his jeans. He scrambled to his feet while pulling up his pants (why up?), grabbed his shirt, and headed down the hall. He was gone only 15 minutes.
With five condoms on her necklace, Lynne can back, somewhat unsteadily, for Rick. Amazingly, we never broke the civility of the moment. There were no catcalls, no lewd comments, no grabbing. While Lynne was in the bedroom obviously fucking her brains out with the former occupant of the empty chair, we played on as though the missing party were merely making a head call. No one asked another player how his turn had been or what had transpired. Those who went early were obviously more relaxed than those whose turns had not come. But, after the second trip to the bedroom, no one doubted that all would get a turn. Lynne was definitely in control.
What would she do for the last man standing? She looked tired, sated. But now she had a real resolve to finish what she had started. And she wanted to do it with style. She moved predictably to Rick’s chair. Instead of perching herself almost lewdly, splay-legged, perched on the table edge across his lap, instead of stripping off his clothes and grabbing his cock, she slipped as demurely as a naked, five-times-fucked girl could into his lap and nestled into his chest with her arms wound his shoulders, hands caressing his neck and ears. “Ricky,” she said, “I’m about worn out, and I’m afraid I won’t be much fun for you, laying like a rag doll on the bed. Let’s take this one slow. I have an idea. So you can get as excited as you deserve to get, and I can be as relaxed as I feel right now, let’s do it here, on the table. You can screw me – only you – while the other five caress me and stroke me and make me feel like a purring pussycat. Are you up for that, lover?”
Who could refuse? Lynne sent Stan to the bedroom for her purse and suggested that the rest of us clear the cards and chips and glasses from the table. Fortunately, we had put a plastic tablecloth on the table that evening to prevent damage to Stan’s mother’s dining room table, so the final act that Lynne had obviously planned in some detail could unfold, consummate, and be erased without leaving a trace. In the minute or two it took us to clear the deck, she began to work her magic on Rick. A seventeen-year-old boy may talk a good game, but performing in froom of five friends could be stressful. She stayed curled up in his lap, stroking his hair and ears and neck and chest while nuzzling his neck and lips and eyes with her lips, whispering her desires to only him. He was in heaven while still fully dressed.
Rising gracefully from his lap, she focused her eyes deep into his and took his hands. With a gentle pull, she imparted the next idea: stand up. She pressed her beautiful body into his side while unbuttoning his shirt, then slowly removed it. Next, she helped him with his tee shirt. Since taking the shirt over his head is somewhat awkward, she took a moment to re-establish the mood by suckling at his nipples and rubbing her body up and down his. When he was again in dreamy sexual stasis, she slowly dropped to her knees by sliding down his leg. As she untied his sneakers, she spread her legs and slowly humped his calf. With his shoes untied, she unbuckled his belt and slowly lowered his zipper. Reaching up to rub both his nipples, she then dragged her hands down slowly to his waist and ever so carefully lowered his pants and shorts just below his butt. As soon as his erection popped free, she took his balls in one hand, the head of his dick in her mouth, and wrapped her other hand around his knees. She pulled forward on his knees slightly while pulling down on his balls, so he say back down on his chair. She stepped across his legs with her back to him and bent double, displaying her gaping pussy in front of his face. Before he could react, she grabbed both cuffs and pulled straight out. The shoes went with the pants. Having taken two steps forward in the process, she turned to finish the job on his underwear, removing the socks in the process. When she had finished, she was leaning slightly on the table, facing Rick.
Staring deeply into Rick’s eyes, she said, “Now boys, I need your help. You’ve left me a little sore, so Rick and I will need some lubrication. So that Rick can stand up and screw me and be in complete control while I relax and enjoy, I will need to be at the edge of the table. So, two of you need to be on either side of Rick to hold my legs. Two more need to be on either side of the table to massage my boobs. And one of you needs to play with my head. Stan, get the bottle of baby oil and a condom from my purse. You be in charge of the oil. Hand me the condom.”
That said and in possession of the condom, she put out her empty hand to Rick, who was still sitting down. He rose to stand directly in front of her, the tip of his rock-hard cock less than an inch from her stomach. Lynne opened the condom package and rolled it on, then she slipped up on the table. Terry and Tom took her legs. Jack and Stan put their hands behind her back so she could lean back onto the table slowly and gently. I took her head.
Stan poured a little oil on her pussy. Then Rick moved forward. He was mesmerized by the scene. Stan added a little more oil to the top of Rick’s condom as he slipped it in her pussy slowly. Lynne purred, “Oh, baby, that’s nice.” Rick started a slow in and out motion. The rest of us started to get into the moment, wanting this girl who had brought us such a memorable evening to have the climax of a lifetime. Stan figured out that the oil could make massages feel really good, so he proceeded to oil her from neck to toes. Her breasts glistened. Her nipples pointed out like brand new pencil erasers. Her flat tummy and blond bush received ample attention. Then her legs and toes were massaged delicately. Terry got the idea that his task at one leg should include the territory all the way to her clit. As Rick got into a slow rhythm, Terry rubbed oil on either side of her clit. Not to be outdone, Tom oiled below her pussy until her anus was dripping. I kneaded her neck and shoulders and ministered to her ears.
As Tom played around her bottom, she sighed, “Go ahead, Tommy. Try a little bit.” Tommy began making slow circles on the patch between her two holes, being careful not to interrupt Rick’s concentration by hitting his dick or knocking his balls. “O-o-o,” she cooed. “More.” Of course, each one thought he was being appreciated, so we all redoubled our efforts. Every inch of her body was caressed and stroked and pressed and squeezed. Baby oil was everywhere. Tom sank two knuckles of his index finger in her ass and stroked in counterpoint to Rick.
She began to tense. Her pussy lips spread wide. Her clit stretched out. I helped her lift her head to get a better view and so she could look into Rick’s eyes again. She encouraged him as if no one else were in the room. “That’s it, baby. That’s the spot. I’m going to come. Come with me. She went rigid. Rick’s face turned red. He began to drive as fast as he could. She went over the top. I knew that Rick was getting the pussy massage I had felt. He came with a groan. After a few slow and unsteady final thrusts, he backed up and sat down, his condom full.
Lynne collapsed back onto the table, spent. The five of us massaged her lightly as she came down. “That was fantastic,” she whispered.
But now what? In a trashy porn story, we would have all whipped out our dicks and jerked off on her before leaving her there to clean herself up. Not his girl. She owned us. We carefully lifted her from the table and carried her well oiled body to the master bathroom where Stan had run a bubble bath. We soaped her gently and let her relax. Rick got dressed and helped, too. We retrieved the last condom. But, instead of awarding her the sixth medal of a whore, we removed the necklace and added it ourselves. Then, Stan came up with a gift box in which we could arrange it like the crown jewels, the necklace in an oval with six bangles fully straight. We arranged it on tissue paper, and showed her just before we put on the top and tied it up with ribbon. She watched as we carefully placed it in her purse. She knew that this secret was hers.
As the water cooled, we all knew the evening had to end. We helped her out of the tub and dried her lightly. No hands touched her, only towels. No one squeezed or felt. We helped her dress because we thought that leaving her alone might tell her we were rejecting her now that we had had our fun. Jack held her panties open and low. She put an arm across the willing shoulders of Terry and Rick so she could step into each leg. Stan and I pulled them up, front and back. Tom held her bra open in front of her so she could insert her arms. After Terry and Rick straightened the straps, I got the honor of hooking it. Next, with arms again supported by Terry and Rick, Stan held out her garter belt, into which she stepped nimbly. He positioned it neatly at her waist. Jack and I each rolled a stocking. One at a time, we smoothed them up her legs and attached them to the garter. Tom held her blouse in front of her like a coat so she could turn and insert her arms. I buttoned her up and tugged the blouse straight. Jack held out her skirt. He and I pulled it up. Tom zipped it in back. Finally, her shoes were slipped onto her feet and her coat retrieved. We escorted her to her car. Each one gave her a hug that no peeping neighbor would have thought was unseemly. When she arrived, she was in charge. When she left, she was still in charge.
None of us have spoken of that evening in the last 40 years. But what we learned has helped us satisfy other women, and has given each of us a memory that will last forever.