Poker Tonight (closed)

Mike leaned back in his chair and looked across at his opponent. They were the only two left in the local bar texas hold-em tournament. His opponent saw Mike looking and smiled at him, her red lipstick contrasting with her white teeth. Mike smiled back and reached for his drink.

Mike's tight shirt stretched against his muscular frame as he took a sip of his drink. Mike was a white collar worker. He had a regular nine to five job that kept him busy most of the week. However, Mike did keep his body in shape by going to the gym regularly. Tonight, Mike had decided that he needed a night out and ended up at the local bar. Mike didn't plan on playing in the tournament, but the people that were playing intrigued him, mainly the one playing against him now. So when a spot opened on the table, Mike took the opportunity and decided to play.

Now it was just Mike and his opponent. Mike set down his glass and glanced over at the clock. It read 1:30 am. Mike then looked down at his cards and the flop, deciding on his next move.

Andrea Thomas had caved into her friends for a night of bar-hopping and after making a disparaging comment about how one hand had gone, had been invited to "see if she could do any better". She had been dominating the table since then, and her challenger had long since dropped out, looking disappointed that the girl he'd probably planned to bring home with him really could play Texas Hold 'Em as well as she'd teased, and he had lost the chance to ask for her number at least an hour ago.

Her girlfriends had all left but one, who had not helped her out any this round by giggling and grinning at Andy's hand. Luckily, this round she didn't need to bluff her way out of a bad spot, she actually had the decent cards her friend had been grinning about. She glanced over at her opponent, who was watching her, and smiled. Unlike the rest of her friends who had been wearing jewel tones or black, Andy preferred white. Her shirt was nothing special, just a white camisole over a pair of embroidered blue jeans, but what drew the eye was not her clothing, it was her hair. The bleached look she'd begun the school year with had all but faded, leaving her with beautiful red-brown hair that matched the copper-beaded brown denim jacket and the cowboy hat hanging off the tall chair she sat on. Waiting on the other player's move, Andy found herself yawning. Oh shit, not good.

She quickly covered the gesture, but not before half the bar saw it. She hadn't caught the name of her opponent, and it looked like she was going to run out of time to ask between hands like she'd been planning to. And then Sara stopped making out with the idiot who'd challenged her long enough to prod her arm. "It's one-thirty, Andy. Today's Friday." Aww fuck. Well, at least Sara had remembered Andy's schedule if Andy herself hadn't. Going out on a Thursday hadn't exactly planned for needing to teach the Intro Computer Science class at eight a.m. The professor she TA'ed for never wanted to teach Fridays, so she got stuck with all his classes.

Andrea sipped the beer that she'd been nursing for the last half hour. "Last hand, my friend," she told Mike. "I'm afraid I've got six hours before I have to be at work." When several of their watchers groaned, she blushed slightly, feeling the beer more at this hour. "Perhaps we can finish tonight, I'd hate to have to lose just because of work." Yeah, that's right. She doesn't want to fold. They're still on.

Mike glanced up at his opponent. I really should get her number

Mike then remembered what her friend said about it being Friday. Damn it! Mike had completely forgotten about the presentation he supposed to give. Looking down at her chips, then at his, Mike got an idea. "I would love for this game to last all night, but unfortunately I have to make a presentation tomorrow. Or rather today. Tell you what. We're pretty evenly matched. Why don't we make this interesting," Mike told her. He pushes his stake into the middle of the table and looks up at her. "Shall we go for broke? Mike asks her.

As an after thought, Mike grabs a napkin, writes a couple of lines down on it, folds it in half, and throws it on top of the pile. "A little incentive. But you can't look at it unless you win"

Mike then sat back with his drink and grinned across the table at his opponent.

Andy watched him levelly as he slid all his chips into the center of the table. While she was pretty sure her full house would beat him, the fact that there were a pair of jacks showing meant her three kings and two jacks wasn't a definite winner. For all she knew, the guy--Damn, still don't know his name--could have four of a kind, and where would that leave her? Taking on an extra computer lab shift for the rest of semester, that's where.

She bit her bottom lip, forgetting for the moment that he was watching her every move and didn't need to watch her sucking on anything, her lip or otherwise. The bar was eagerly waiting on her reply, so what the heck. She slid the pile of multicolored chips into the center of the table, then glanced at the napkin. "Since I don't know what it says, I can't place a similar wager. Unless you give me some idea, you'll have to make due with only my chips." She shrugged her shoulders, hitching them forward on purpose so her shirt's neckline dipped, showing more cleavage. She didn't mind flirting with the guy, he'd given her a good run. And she knew she wouldn't have to pay for drinks in this bar for a few weeks at least, maybe more if she dragged out her victory.

Her hand lightly tapped on her two face-down Kings in time with the music blasting from the jukebox in the corner. It might appear like nervousness, but really it had more to do with the amount of fluid she'd ingested in the past two hours since her last break from the poker table. And her rhythm wouldn't have been so far off if she'd stopped drinking at midnight like the intelligent side of her brain had told her to. But she was playing poker. What's the point of a good-natured game without a little beer? Damn, I'm going to need several cold showers to wake me up in six hours.

Mike looked at his opponent from over the top of his glass. Should I tell her what I wrote down?

Mike had only met this woman tonight, yet he felt that they had had a good time and some sort of connection. Mike decided to give her a hint as to what he had written, but he wasn't going to tell her outright. Mike lowers his glass, leans forward, and looks directly into his opponents eyes. "Think of the napkin as an opportunity. I'm not going to tell you what the opportunity is, but suffice to say that it'll definitely be worth it. You don't have to make a similar wager, but I hope you do."

Mike looked around at the people watching the game and smiled at the curiosity that he saw on their faces. Mike hoped that his opponent might make a similar offer, he was curious to see how she would interpret the "opportunity". However, Mike had every intention of winning, with a jack and an ace in his hand, and two jacks and a king showing, he was hoping that he would win the hand with surprise ace.

Andy smiled. She liked this guy. Snagging a cocktail napkin with exaggerated care, she took up the pen he'd used, writing something down behind her hand, and then folding it up, setting it and the pen in the middle of the table. "Very well, I'll call. Let's see your winning hand, mister." Her smile bordered on the sensual as she watched him, confident that either way this turned out she was going to enjoy tomorrow night. If his phone number wasn't on his napkin, she'd make sure she got it and his name before they left.

She didn't touch her cards, not wanting to look nervous at all. A full house was more than fair, and she was eager to find out what his napkin said. If she got the chance, she was going to snag it and read it even if she lost. He was teasing her with his talk of opportunities... it was only fair that she get to know what opportunity she'd lost.

Mike smiled and nodded to the dealer. Noticing that his opponent kept her cards face down, Mike did the same. Besides, he knew what his cards were. I wonder what she wrote down.

Mike watched his opponent rather than the turn or the river. Finally, Mike glanced down to see a queen and a two. Three of a kind. Shit!

Hoping to call his opponent's bluff, Mike smiled and flipped over his cards, gesturing for her to do the same. If Mike lost this hand, he would have to put in some serious overtime at work.

Andy smiled wider, relaxing into her chair. With care she flipped one card, then the other, revealing her two kings for a total hand of three kings, two jacks; full house. "Such a shame," she told him, trying not to gloat but doing a poor job of it. "But that was a hell of a game. From everyone else, too," she added, since some of the players were still watching, and drinking.

Sara clapped as Andrea scooped the chips towards herself, stacking the red, white, and blue chips in individual stacks to figure out what she'd won. The napkin she'd written on got shoved in a pocket of her pants, and she reached for the other napkin with curiosity written on her face. He'd certainly intrigued her with his unknown "opportunity".

Mike smiled and nodded his head in concession. She gave me one hell of a run.

Mike drained his drink as his opponent collected her chips. As he was putting his glass down, Mike saw his opponent reach for the his napkin--Where the hell did hers go?--and quickly put his hand on top of hers as she reached the napkin. With his hand resting on hers, Mike asked, with a smile, "Can you do me a favor and look at that later?"

Without waiting for a response, Mike got up and walked over to the bar to pay his tab. The bartender just looked at him, smiled, and told him that his drinks were on the house. Mike thanked the bartender, being sure to still tip the guy, and started walking towards to the door. Right before leaving, Mike turned around and saw that his opponent was watching him. Mike gave her a smile and a wave and yelled, "By the way, my name is Mike. It was a pleasure playing with you Andy."

Mike turned quickly and left, smiling to himself. Let her figure out how I guessed her name. Her friend was really loud, although I should probably thank her for telling me Andy's name.

Mike sat down in his car and started the engine. I hope she calls and agrees to the one on one rematch this weekend.

Andy held onto the napkin until Mike had left, smiling her farewell to him before flipping open the napkin and smiling at the offer. One on one, hmm? She liked the sound of that. She considered calling him right now to take him up on it, but she decided it would seem a little over eager. It was 2am, and sleep would suit her much better.



It was 10pm that night when she pulled the napkin out of her coat pocket, having been so busy during the day that she'd completely forgotten about it until she started cleaning out her pockets. "Shit, he probably thinks I turned him down..." she muttered, going to sit at her desk and pick up the phone charging there. It was the work of a moment to dial the number he'd given her.

She waited anxiously for him to pick up. "Hello, Mike? It's Andrea."

Mike had had a rough day. The presentation at work had gone well and he had managed to get through the day, even with a migraine and lack of sleep. As soon as Mike got home, he checked his phone for messages. Nothing. She probably thinks I'm a creep or something now that she's sober.

Mike then made dinner and hopped into the shower. His apartment wasn't ostentatious, but it suited Mike. The living room was spacious, and the combined kitchenette/dining area was cozy. Mike's bedroom was big, compared to the rest of the apartment, but it suited him well. Mike was just getting out of the shower when he heard the phone ringing. Quickly toweling himself off, Mike grabbed the receiver in the bedroom and answered.

After hearing who it was, Mike's first thought was--she called!--which was quickly followed by--shit! I'm naked!.

"Hey Andrea, I'm glad you called. So I take it you read my note, huh?" Mike asked as he walked to his dresser to look for a pair of boxer's to wear.

Andrea laughed as she hung her jacket on her desk chair. Her studio apartment was far from neat, but nothing was on the floor if she had it her way. The cat--that was another story--but at least she picked things up more or less. "I did, I did. I thought it was a great idea, but I need to wind down. I'm sorry if it's kinda late to call, I just got in." She only now realized that it was ten, and it was rude of her to call him at this hour.

"I still haven't eaten, so unfortunately the rematch will have to wait. I rather wish I'd called you sooner." She started unbuttoning her blouse as she put the phone on speaker and set it on her bed so she had both hands free to change into comfy house clothes. "But you might have to buy me a drink before we start, poker's just not the same when you haven't had a beer." Not to mention when you can't blame the beer for you ogling your opponent.

She laughed again, sliding her jeans off and feeling stupid. "Sorry, I'm I little punch-drunk after the day I just had. I'll take you up on your offer if you'll agree to play something other than Hold 'Em. We played so many rounds of that last night, I... heh. I was about ready to up the stakes just to get out of the game."

"It's not a problem. I was just cleaning some stuff up when you called." Mike said as he cradled the phone with his shoulder so he could search his drawer with both hands. "I whole heartedly agree. Actually, I think it's illegal to play poker and not drink beer." Of course, beer also makes people less inhibited.

Mike continued to search for a decent pair of boxers and finally gave up. He walked over to another draw and pulled out a pair of silk pajamas, and put on the bottom half. "I can relate. My day was probably as long as yours. I have no problem playing something other than Hold 'Em. Did you have something specific in mind?"

Illegal without beer? It was a thought. She fumbled with the broken clasp of her bra and growled quietly; the damn thing had been sticking her at awkward times all day. When she finally got it off, she flung it across the room. "Finally," she muttered, craning around and rubbing her back. The she realized she was in the middle of a phone call and sat down on the bed, picking the phone back up and putting it to her ear instead of leaving it on speaker. "I don't have anything specific, even 5-Card Draw is fine with me. Or we could change it up, I don't really care either way."

"I would invite you here to play, but I'm afraid my apartment is rather tiny. I don't think the kitchen counter would really work as a poker table." She idly rubbed the red line where her bra had pressed into her flesh around her ribs, and the cups had left an elastic mark that itched. She only blushed a little realizing she was sitting here on the phone with some guy she'd barely met, practically playing with herself. Hey, it was a long day. It's not like he can tell, she told herself, not hesitating as she lay back on the bed and tweaked her nipple. "Mmm. We could go back to the bar, I'm sure he'd love to have us provide entertainment for his customers." That wasn't exactly to her taste, though, and the boredom probably showed in her voice.

A one-on-one game should be private. Just as what her hand was doing between her thighs should be private. She bit her lip as she slipped her hand into her panties and found she was very wet. "But I'd be open to other ideas." Invite me over and... Andrea smiled. "And since it's one-on-one, I think we should up the stakes a little, don't you think? I don't know how, exactly, but it seems fitting." Well, since she was lying here nearly naked, she did have one flicker of a thought about how, but she wasn't going to suggest it, not on the phone when it was their second conversation.

He laid down on his bed and listened as Andy talked about where to have their tournament. "5-Card Draw sounds great. And if you don't mind waiting until tomorrow evening, I'ld be more than happy to up my dining room table as a poker table."

He wondered what she was doing as he could hear her moving and the rustles of clothes. Is she putting clothes on or taking them off, I wonder. His hand strayed down to his pajama bottoms, the silk causing a delightful reaction. Then he realized that wasn't the only reason he was having a reaction. She's got one hell of a sexy voice.

Then he caught his breath at what she said next. Sure, we could raise the stakes. I'm drawing a blank right now, but why don't we sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow? We are having our rematch tomorrow right?" Say yes! He was amused at the thought that he was fondling himself while talking to a woman he had just met last night. Besides, it's not like she knows what I'm doing.

"Tomorrow would be great. I'll see if I can come up with some ideas for raising the stakes, but don't hold me to it. What time works for you?" Muffling a moan as she dipped a finger into herself, she let out a little 'mrff' sound that was probably more telling than she liked. Cut it out, Andy, he'll think you're a total slut. She removed her finger, rubbing a circle around her clit instead. She didn't think she could not touch herself just now, she was too close.

"I have something I really should do from three to five, but after that I'm totally free." She grinned as she made it sound like her TA office hours were optional. Hell, if he's inviting me over for high-stakes poker, one-on-one, they ARE optional. "I could be there as early as five-thirty." She didn't know where he lived, but it was definitely not going to take her long to drive there... too eager.

"Sounds good. I'll be looking forward to any ideas you might have about what the stakes might be." He reached down and grabbed the swollen marbles between his thighs, smothering a groan. Did I just hear her moan, or was that me groaning?

"How about you come over around six? I'll bring the beer if that's ok with you." He moved his hand to the sensitive tip and nearly let out a moan before he caught himself. Cool it Mike, get through the phone call without sounding like a pervert first!

"Alright, what's your address? I don't know what your tastes in beer are like, but I'll drink most things that aren't Guinness. If you'd like, I can bring chips and salsa or something like that." She didn't want him thinking she was a girly-girl or anything, and maybe her hopes for a one-on-one game were not quite in line with his, so she should probably leave it wide open.

Legs spread and panties now hanging off one foot, Andy stroked herself as slowly as she could handle, which was agonizingly slow after the day she'd had. But hearing her orgasm on the phone was not really something a near-stranger needed. "Shall we agree on a set limit for how much money we want to play for? Or do you want to keep it to chips? I'll admit that a grad student's budget doesn't really include poker tournaments."

"Chips and salsa sound great." He told her after giving her his address. He lay in bed and tried not to think about what Andy was doing on the other end of the phone. He had heard clothes rustling and an occasional moan.

"We could keep the wagering to just chips, as long as the stakes are well worth it." I won't be able to talk for too much longer. I'm so horny, I have to cum! He ached to touch himself, the throbbing between his legs almost becoming unbearable. "So I'll see you tomorrow at six?"

"Yep, I'll be there." She had a fairly decent memory, so she voted to keep doing what she was doing and not get up to write down his address... yeah. Definitely there was a 'choice' involved in that decision.

"Talk to you later, Mike," she told him, letting the phone fall from between her shoulder and her ear and jabbing in the general direction of the 'end' button. All it took was one direct flick of her clit and she cried out, her loud cry cut off midway as her body shook again and again under the shock waves of a powerful orgasm.

It was only then that she heard the 'beep-beep' near her ear that said the call had been ended. Shit, I must've missed the button... I hope to god he moved to hang up and didn't hear all that... As guilty as she felt, she couldn't bring herself to care in truth. So what? If he had... well, she'd deal with that then. Maybe she could say she stubbed her toe, or something. That would work.

Worst case scenario, he'd be calling her back and telling her he wasn't too sure he wanted to be having a personal game with a horny slut.

As she lay there, dozing off with the pleasant buzz of post-orgasmic bliss, she found her sleepy brain contemplating what she would do if he had heard her, but still wanted to meet up tomorrow. Did that leave her with a world of opportunity?

He said his good bye and moved to hang up the phone. Just as he was about to put the phone back in it's cradle, he heard a cry from the other end of the phone that cut off abruptly. What the hell was that? Was is what I think it was?

Shrugging, he walked backed to his bedroom and stripped out of his pajamas, laying down naked on the bed. His erection was still throbbing and his balls still swollen, however, he was so horny that all it took was a couple of strokes before he let out a huge groan and let loose a huge orgasm. Making a mess on himself, he reached towards a drawer on his bedside stand and pulled out a towel he kept there. Cleaning himself off, he threw the towel in the direction of his hamper and rolled over to go to bed.

The mellow feeling of post-orgasm caressed his already sleepy mind and gently lowered him into the oblivion of sleep with one last thought. She screams pretty loud when she cums.

Andrea was nervous. She stood in front of her bed, where she'd just discarded several outfits, in nothing but white lace panties and a matching strapless push-up bra. None of the clothes she'd tried so far fit the image she wanted. But I'm not sure what I do want, she admitted to herself with a sigh. He saw me in cami and jeans, so that's probably what he is thinking when... if... he thinks of me. How do I change that?

Camisole and jeans was her standard, usually with a blouse over the cami. Tight jeans were fine most of the time, but she was thinking about her accidental orgasm that he had probably overheard. I should show a little more skin this time. With that in mind, she went back to her closet and found a brick-red strapless dress that hugged her figure from bust to mid-thigh. Rather than look like a hooker, she chose brown flats, and pulled on an embroidered brown-on-brown button-front blouse which she buttoned one button of, right below her bust, accenting the flare of her breasts with the spread of the shirt. She moved to stand in front of the mirror and glared at the image. She looked good, but her hair looked like hell.

She grabbed a brush and dragged it through her auburn hair, feeling the static electricity that made her hair frizz. With a growl, she ruthlessly wrapped her hair in a bun at the back of her head, hoping against hope that her hair would cool out by the time six pm rolled around.

With that, she went to the computer lab to sit around for two hours. She rarely got asked any questions, but when she did, they were hard. Unfortunately tonight she didn't have the luxury of the distraction of teaching. Instead she had a couple comments about how nice she looked, and the rest of the session she sat there, obsessing over what Mike may or may not have heard on the phone last night.

Five pm, she was out the door like a shot. Back home, check the hair... yes! She released her hair, which now fell in neat waves around her shoulders, just barely wavy from being confined. It looked sexy, she realized, and was glad she'd come up with the dress. Chips and salsa from the counter and she was off... finally on her way.

5:45... and she found the place. Finding a convenient parking spot surprised her (she was rarely that lucky), but she wasn't going to argue when fate threw her a bone. Sliding her purse a bit further up her shoulder, she negotiated chips and salsa into one hand so she could knock on his door.

Mike got up the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When his brain finally kicked in, he bolted up into a sitting position and looked around his bedroom. I'm having company over tonight.

With that thought in mind, Mike went through his morning routine and walked into his closet to figure out what to wear for the day. He decided to go with a pair of jeans that accented his muscular glutes and a cream colored polo shirt that accented his tan skin.

Mike than set about straightening his apartment up in anticipation of the company he was going to get that evening. Walking into his bedroom, Mike wondered if he should clean up in there as well. Might as well, never know what might happen.

By five p.m. his apartment was clean and ready for company. Mike gave the dining room table a quick swipe before heading to the liquor store to pick up the beer he had promised. Getting back home at 5:45 with a mixed case of beer; a 12 pack of Coors Light, a 6 pack of Miller Lite, and a 6 pack of Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat, Mike had just enough time to put it in the fridge before there was a knock on the door.

Mike opened the door to see Andy standing there balancing chips, salsa, and purse in one hand. Hi. Come on in. Let me grab those things for you. He said as he reached for the chips and salsa and making room for her to walk in. "I'm just going to put the salsa in a bowl, make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks," Andy replied, stepping inside so he could close the door. She tried not to stare around herself, but as the door opened she'd realized she wasn't as confident about this as she'd thought. She was still afraid he'd ask about the phone yesterday, and it made her hold back the bubbly anticipation that had kept her going until now.

"I hadn't really had any great ideas about the stakes," she told him, following him as he took chips and salsa into his apartment. "I'm up for pretty much anything if you've got an idea." Did I really just say that? Crap.

He tried not to stare as Andy followed him into his apartment. WOW! She looks amazing! Mike was suddenly very self conscious about the way he looked. He tried to covertly check his appearance in the microwave as he got a bowl out for the salsa.

"I'm not quite sure what to put up for stakes either, but why don't we play a couple of rounds just for fun and to get a feel for the deck. It's a fresh pack," he told her. Although I do have an idea, but I want you to have a few drinks before I suggest it.

He gestured towards towards the dining table, which was already set up with poker chips, cards and coasters for the beer. Watching as Andy sat down, he asked her, "Could you shuffle the deck while I grab the drinks? What would you like, by the way? I have Coors Light, Miller Lite and Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat."