The Game by Girl Friday
Copyright 2003, all rights reserved
Originally posted August 2003
The Game
She was a player.
A poker player to be exact and she was one of the best. Tonight she was playing in a game she meant to win.
She had spent years sharpening her skills at the table. Watching a player’s body language and using it to her advantage was a key aspect of the game. Tonight was no different.
She dressed with care, knowing that her body and her face had often kept her in the game. A tight silk blouse that revealed plenty of cleavage, short black leather skirt, and the strappy black heels that made her long, tanned legs seem endless. She was ready.
The casino was full, the poker room smoky. She joined the table full of men, tourists by the look of them. Except for him. He was a player too. Dark and dangerous, his look promised that tonight she was going to need everything she had to stay in the game. The others were just dead money.
She played two hands and knew how to beat them all. These amateurs were playing Texas Hold 'Em on a lark, trying to get lucky. She could play blind and still take their money. Except for him. She could feel his smoldering gaze boring into her.
She continued to play, her body thrumming with desire. She was too distracted by the sensations it created. She couldn’t win, not tonight. She collected her chips and rose to leave.
“Wait,” one of them said. “Tell us how you did it. You beat us all. How?”
She smiled and explained, “You always raise your left eyebrow when you have a decent hand and your friend chews his cigar when he’s bluffing.”
“What about him?”
He lifted an eyebrow and silently dared her to tell them. She couldn't hold his gaze. She licked her lips nervously and replied, “See how he’s looking at me with that heavy lidded gaze? It makes me so wet that all I can think of is him lifting me to the table. I imagine him standing at the table’s edge, fucking me senseless as the chips and the cards scatter beneath me. I fantasize about how his cock would feel, slamming into me as I cum screaming on the table. So, you see, any pot I took off him had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with luck.”
She left them there, mouths agape. As she walked away, she could feel his gaze follow her across the room. He caught her just as she stepped into the elevator. He trapped her there in the corner and crushed his mouth to hers. He ran his hand up her thigh, pulled her smooth leg up and ground against her. She moaned, heedless of the others watching in the elevator.
“May I join you?” he asked, and she agreed.
He carried her to the room, continuing his assault on her mouth. When the door closed behind them, he lowered her to the desk. Roughly he shoved her skirt to her hips while she made quick work of his belt and trousers. He plunged into her, once, twice, again. She bucked and writhed as he continued to slam into her. She felt him stiffen just as her orgasm crashed over her, his cock spurting deep within her.
“What time is it?”
Still gasping, she looked at the clock: 8:20 p.m. “I still have ten minutes. I told you there was no way you'd win tonight. You owe me a hundred bucks."
He picked up the rings that sat on the nightstand and handed her the wedding band that matched his own. “Care to go double or nothing, my love?”
--Fin--