19 comments/ 57146 views/ 57 favorites Suzanne's Supreme Night of Poker By: yowser First section of a four-part story. It all started off playful. Not innocent, but playful. Jim's buddies for many years had had their monthly gatherings. Here in southern Indiana, in this quiet corner of the American heartlands, their meetings were nothing out of the ordinary. Sometimes it was "poker night." More often it was a visit to their favorite local, the Tank, with its dark, dank interior and the ever entertaining dartboard. The boys liked wagering with each other over almost anything. There could be other activities too, but the four of them somehow always had it fixed in their calendars, and even when holiday season or busy schedules or family events made things difficult or complicated, they never went more than six weeks without a get-together. The other girls made light of it, but I was the only one who really felt at all slighted. I think they thought it was good for their husbands to get together and blow some male steam off, and this was just the right way to keep everything okay and steady on the home front. Jim's buddies were solid, hardworking guys, not what you would call cultured or anything, but they were good men. Chrissie said her Roderick always came home in a good mood, and was apt to be more expansive, and talkative and appreciative of her for a bit after one of their meetings. When I pointed out "why" he might have been in a better mood when he got home (I had a pretty good idea of how much they drank), she just laughed and brushed it off. I was the lone outsider among all the couples. My urban Long Island family roots were eight hundred miles away, culturally light-years, while I think the next girl who was furthest from home was Stacey, and she was just from upstate. I'd met Jim on a river rafting expedition one summer between college semesters. He was the guide for our trip in the hills of Kentucky, and I had been taken with him straight away. Kind blue eyes, dark hair, woodsman's patchy beard, nice long rangy build, flannel shirts and jeans, a little shy, even awkward. Jim did not fit my usual attraction profile at all. I was used to highly cerebral, or at least well-educated types, which was not Jim in the least. Not that Jim isn't smart - he is, in his own way - but let's just say you don't see copies of Kafka on his bedroom nightstand. We were married the next year after my graduation from university and I moved west. He was working at his father's business, a hardware wholesaling outfit, and pretty soon I was swept up with his family, neighbors and friends. For two years it was fantastic. I was away from intellectual competition, which could be cutthroat around New York. After a string of increasingly volatile and unsatisfying college relationships, I was happy to have a nice stable life with a good man. We coupled a lot those first two years, then along came Aden, and then Buster. After twelve years of marriage, I had a house full of males and it was mostly good. Jim was great with the boys, took them fishing and camping, coached their sports teams, gave me weekends off a bunch. The intervening years were the complicated ones of family but it still was good, and Jim and I usually found a way to make love at least once a week. But I had gotten a bit resentful of the kind of male camaraderie that Jim had built up with his band of buddies. A different kind of attention that didn't get shared with me. And there were times when it seemed that he felt his close-knit crew were more important than me, too. His best friend Rob was over after work that Wednesday. He's a big guy, broad shouldered and handsome in a rough-hewn way, and like most of the other guys, had gone to high school with Jim. His dark hair was thinning and he had a large chest and beer-belly to go along, but he held his weight well. He took up a lot of space, looked real strong. I always liked looking at his thick forearms with his sleeves rolled up, the way the sinews worked when he held a beer or gripped a door knob. He was in a workshirt and jeans. They were talking in the kitchen over a couple long-necked Buds when I came in with groceries from the store. It was July and hot. He was standing next to the window overlooking the front lawn. "Hey good looking," said Rob, his standard greeting. "Hey Rob, how's biz?" Rob ran a construction business, employed eight, sometimes ten guys, and while he didn't tend to get the big development contracts, his crew had built a good dozen or so houses in town since I had moved here, along with plenty of remodeling work. "No complaints," he shrugged, and we talked a bit about stuff, weather and kids and the Red's chances of winning the division. His wife Sharon, who I liked a lot, was going to visit her sister in Cincinnati over the weekend. She was a big girl in every way. Tall, big hips, big chest, big dark unruly hair, broad easy smile. Their two kids were heading quickly towards largeness themselves. He then shot a glance over at Jim. "Poker over here next Tuesday night babe, that okay with you?" said Jim, obviously prodded. I made a face, since I had been hoping for other things that week. The kids would be away at camp for a whole week, the first that both of them would be gone from home at the same time, and it would have been a nice excuse for Jim and I to do some things together, maybe go out to dinner once or twice so I didn't have to cook, and we could pretend it was just the two of us again. I shot Jim a sharp look, but either he didn't catch my meaning or just ignored it. His expression was bland. "Only day that's going to work for all of us for the next month," he said mildly. His eyes squinted, and he stroked his sparse little beard with one hand, his beer in the other. I was annoyed for a couple reasons, maybe even some I couldn't quite identify at that moment. The guys usually didn't check in with the wives anyway, just announced the dates, but when poker was at one of the homes, the girls got stuck with most of the food prep and of course the clean-up, which didn't tend to be disastrous, or frat-party like, but still was extra work. It felt like entitlement, I guess, and that bugged me. "Do I get to play too?" I asked. This was a long running routine among them, that I always asked about joining the card games, and inevitably got teasing responses from the guys. They liked their male brand of dealing and wagering. "Anytime you want," said Rob, with a long, calculating smile, eyes traveling me from top to bottom. "Any of us guys always like playing with wives." Jim chuckled and I was ready to kick him in the shins. So, just to irritate him, I put on a sultry little smile of my own. "How would I qualify to play with you big fellas?" I asked wantonly. Rob gave me a long, slow, thoughtful look. "Well, high heels for starters," he said, gazing at my legs. "A short skirt? Short top? You girls all know plenty well how to play." His eyes teased me. Jim's face had lost some of its humor. "You know damn well I don't do high heels, Rob. Under any conditions. But short skirts I got," my eyes teased Rob right back. Jim shifted on his feet and harrumphed. "Well, none of the other wives have ever played cards at our games, don't see any reason why things shouldn't stay that way." He folded his arms in front of him. "It's guys' night." I gave Jim a mildly annoyed look but a faint smile lingered on Rob's face. We talked a bit about other things while I unloaded the groceries. Later that night in bed I wanted to make love with Jim. It had been awhile, and I found my minor irritation with him earlier had not only departed but had reversed itself. I wanted him, and wanted him to want me. I can forget how handsome he is sometimes, and how genuinely sweet a guy he is overall. We had a pretty easy way to communicate our interest in love-making, at least from my end. I make sure to be in bed first, which happens normally anyway, since I like to read in bed before heading to sleep. When Jim settles in, whether he is planning to read or not, I just drift my hand over to his crotch, and give a light caress to his penis through his undershorts. That is signal enough, and while Jim will sometimes give me a reason why he isn't up for it - health, tiredness, business distractions, whatever - more often than not that is all we need to get started with each other. Tonight was not an exception. He got a little smile on his face and we turned out the lights, and faced each other under the covers, just sheets now in the summer weather. As usual, he kissed my neck, which I never grow tired of, and rustled my hair, and I ran my fingers over his narrow haunches and penis after I had pulled his undershorts off. He was already hard, so smooth, always nice. But then, something got into me, not sure why. I wanted our foreplay to have some talk, some fantasy talk. Sharing our fantasies usually wasn't an easy proposition. Jim is a quiet sort, and these kinds of conversations were always a bit more guarded than exploratory for him. I think he was always afraid that he might concoct some fantasy that repulsed me or made me feel inadequate or something. And I am not sure how comfortable he was with fantasies anyway, it didn't seem to be a Midwest kind of thing, where "practical" seemed to be the dominant theme. For me, on the other hand, fantasies were tremendous. Of course, ninety-five percent of my sexual life as an adolescent had been in the fantasy realm, and while real sex had felt actualized and more immediate and intensely satisfying when it finally arrived, far later than I had wanted, there were nice parts about what you could imagine in your head too. However, I had gotten Jim to confess fairly early on in our marriage, when we were still quite new together, that he would enjoy being in bed with me and another girl. He got a little embarrassed when I pressed him on it, and in fact, the idea of sharing him with another woman had been a bit unsettling to me, to say the least. I couldn't even imagine who might qualify, who I could imagine on the other side of him, playing with his penis, wanting his intimate attention the same as me. Somehow, before we got very far into our love-making that night, I got him talking about this again. I could tell it still was an idea that bounced around his head from time to time. When I asked if there was anyone in particular who might work, he was totally evasive. Maybe he didn't have a good visualization of it all anyway, perhaps it was just the idea of the thing, having two females fawning over his cock at the same time, giving him pleasure, two girls together, two sets of boobs to play with, two excited crotches anxious for his penis to penetrate them, nothing more concrete than that. I mentioned some other wives in town as possibilities, friends of friends, even some local teenagers I knew he thought were cute. He shook his head firmly each time. And then, and there shouldn't be reading too much into this, I asked him about the reverse, how he might feel about me being in bed with more than just him and his own manly penis. I could feel his body tighten with this question, I think I took him by surprise. He hemmed and hawed, rambled a bit. He was worried that I might find another guy better than he was. He worried about violating local customs, setting precedents, endangering reputations, what it might mean for the future. Complications to what was already a good marriage. When I probed a bit more however, it became clear that it did excite him a bit. It was almost as if he could wrap his head around this suggestion of mine, then maybe his own fantasy wasn't so crazy either. That it was okay to entertain possibilities outside the usual. It seemed to me that there were a couple parts to this, maybe more. The first was the absolute illicitness about sharing me, here in our quiet little well-ordered world. We would be breaking norms, blasting boundaries apart, doing something nasty and secret and exciting. I think the more he thought about seeing someone else couple with me, as long as he didn't feel threatened by the individual, and as long as he could participate too, the more it was arousing to him. I think another part was maybe the triumph that might come from sharing me, knowing that he had a treasure of a partner and was comfortable and powerful enough in himself that he could be magnanimous. I got him to talk a little about what kinds of things he thought might be fun to do with three in bed. I had never been a great beauty, but in our group I was rare among the wives for being trim and having a relatively narrow waist. I knew sometimes the guys would tell him how good I looked, and he was proud of that. At the town pool I was one of the few women in our age group comfortable in a two-piece swim-suit. I would get looks from both the men and the women, but the emotions behind the looks were totally different, and diametrically opposed - one set lustful, the other envious, or maybe somehow disapproving. I was lively, engaging, not the Midwestern norm. Something about his words made me shiver with feelings that were a mixture of excitement and danger. While we talked I played with his penis, running my fingers softly up and down its length, and it had gotten very hard. It's a nice one, curved and thicker than you might have thought, given his build, and it had never disappointed me. His great cock had been our shared entertainment since we had first met. We both liked it, and what it did. Well, for whatever our discussion was worth, the rest of the evening was absolutely scintillating. He was very ardent, kissed and played with my chest and nipples for an extended time, hovered on his knees over my head and ran the underside of his stiff penis over my face and cheeks before I licked and sucked him a bit, and he mounted me for a long and lovely coupling. I shivered when his penis went up me initially, that moment of being penetrated never ceases to be enthralling, one of those enchanting continual delights of life. He was very excited, and ended up pushing real hard and strong at the end. I was very close to coming myself, closer than usual. I almost never can orgasm just by coupling with him, it always takes some extra work before or after. But his penis pulsed sweet inside me while his slender rump quivered at the end with his climax. He lay on top of me for awhile afterwards, resting, with his long, strong arms around me, and we kissed and cuddled, his penis still inside me. Then he got down between my thighs and finished me off with his mouth. It was very sweet, a really nice long rolling climax. I was very pleased. We drifted off to that lovely, deep, warm sleep that follows a good love session. He looked closely at me during breakfast the next morning as I dished him up his eggs and toast. It appeared that he was wondering if we really had had our discussion the night before. "Who would you trust me with?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, taking a stab at what he was thinking. I had guessed right and he started, then looked embarrassed, like he was a schoolboy caught breaking the rules. "Well, not a stranger, that's for sure. Not sure that anyone we were close with would work either though." He looked at me oddly, taking in my body from head to toe. He seemed to be trying to visualize another guy taking his liberties with me. "How 'bout Rob?" I asked, a small smile on my lips. "You could trust him, and you know very well I would not trade you for him, ever." "Or anyone else," I said after a pause. "You are my guy. Forever. Period." He gave me a small smile and his expression was a combination of surprise and intrigue. "Yeah, maybe," he finally said, and then carefully turned the talk to other things, but I knew that some sort of reassuring had taken place. Jim doesn't say a lot, but I can read his body language (and his moods) better than anyone, including his Ma and any of his relatives. This little notion of mine was no longer an impossible concept. Suddenly I had a lot to think about. So the next few days were interesting ones for me. My frequent daydreams were filled with exciting scenarios that made my groin squeeze in anticipated pleasure. I got a little plan going, or rather, a plan evolved for me by combining various pieces of smaller ones. The thought of another penis in my life, and another man's attention, even if just a one-time thing, made me run my tongue over my lips. Having Jim watch me with someone - someone who desired me and wanted to do sexual things with me - the thought of that made me shiver too. I couldn't quite believe that I might be able to pull my scheme off, as it got bigger and more complicated, whether everything would line up properly, or whether I would lose my nerve. But I have always been adept with plans, nudging details into place, knowing how to work leverage points and above all, having a sense of good timing. "But playing cards is all about luck sometimes," I said to myself. Sometimes luck is better than skill, and you can play a winning hand without much behind it. Of course I knew Jim would always argue, at least with poker, that skill trumped luck, most of the time. I would not just call his hand, but raise him. I found myself smiling a lot to myself and itching for Tuesday to arrive. We dropped the kids off at camp Sunday afternoon. The house felt funny later, too quiet, too big, a bit empty while the two of us rattled around inside. I had given a little thought to what I would wear Tuesday but knew it couldn't be overboard. I had a beige, summer sun-dress, light fabric, mid-thigh, with ties behind that cinched my waist tightly, and I knew I looked good in it, since Jim always made a point of saying so. My breasts, without a bra, would slink around nicely inside it, but the outfit wouldn't be an over-the-top exhibition kind of thing. The guys wouldn't notice immediately that my bra was missing, only after a little time, and some careful movement on my part. It wasn't cut too low in front, but I knew by leaning over strategically that folks would be able to get a good view when I wanted them to. Most of the other wives I know are pretty unhappy with their breasts, and child-rearing had taken its toll on all of us in varying ways. I had been a B-cup in college for most bras, sometimes a C, but now with some added weight I was most often a C size. My biggest complaint was that mine were more pointed at their ends than I wanted, rather than round and full. They stuck out and drifted off to each side. Naturally they had ballooned out when I was nursing each of the kids, and Jim had adored their temporary expansion, he couldn't keep his eyes off them, although strangely, he had been skittish about my milk, even when I offered it to him during our scarce intimate bed-time moments back then. They had retreated of course after I stopped nursing, but I still liked how they looked in the mirror with my dress on. Their sharp ends were then an asset, and I knew my nipples would grow erect easily when brushing against the fabric. I left my slightly-longer-than-shoulder-length hair loose, still dark and thick and woolly, instead of putting it back like I normally did with the summer weather. But I kept a hair thingy around my left wrist, in case I needed to put my hair back later. When I thought about why I would want it back, my crotch squeezed with pleasure. And - this is a dark and illicit thing for me - I wore the black string-thong Jim gave me one year at Christmas, more as a joke than a real present. I know he had enjoyed picking it out, from wherever he found it. I didn't like it, those things cut into your ass-crack something fierce and really aren't comfortable at all, but they do succeed in making you feel thoroughly naughty. Suzanne's Supreme Night of Poker Ch. 02 Best enjoyed if you read part one. * The boys were all eying me, Billie's face was real red. I gave Jim a questioning glance, but his eyes were gleaming. I arched an eyebrow and he nodded slightly. "All right fellas, very nice." I looked with a genuine smile to each of them. My voice was soft, sultry, encouraging. "I finally got to play on poker night, after all these years." Roderick stifled a snicker. "We can keep going, if you all are amenable." They all looked at each other nervously, checking Jim's face in particular, and nodded. I then felt all eyes on me, taking in my shape, my legs in their stockings, and my breasts free in my dress. My nipples tingled. They were erect, very excited, every movement of them brushing against the thin fabric of my dress. "Couple things." My voice was almost on edge, but I managed to keep it calm and level. "First of all, this is probably a one-and-only time. Kids are away. Not likely to happen again." I thought Roderick and Rob looked disappointed, but they all nodded. "I cannot, and would not, keep you all from talking among yourselves, but promise me no further? No mention of this beyond this little circle of friends?" Heads nodded vigorously. "The same for me," I said. "I'll speak to Jim of course," I looked at him meaningfully and he gave me a thin smile, "but nobody else. No wives," Billie winced at this one, "or anyone else. Our little secret. No one else to know." "You good with this, love?" my gaze went to Jim. "I am yours completely." I guess I needed verbal confirmation from Jim, but I was now quite sure he wanted this evening as much as I did, even if he didn't completely know where it was going. He came over and gave me a deep kiss, then squeezed one of my ass cheeks. I had my answer. I sat down on a stuffed chair in the corner of the room and leaned forward earnestly. "You boys have gotten me excited," I said, giving each of them a long, lascivious look. "Why don't you drop your drawers and let me get acquainted with each of you, a little more?" They all looked at each other. Rob was the first to pull his boots and socks off, then his work pants and boxers. His penis, all thick and hard, stood out about horizontal, poking out from underneath his shirt. My mouth watered. He walked slowly over to me, stealing a glance at Jim first, who urged him on with a quiet look. Rob stared intently down at me, and I gazed at the head of his penis, three inches from my face. It was large, swollen, and the most beautiful shade of red-purple. I closed my eyes and took him in my mouth. It was so smooth, so full and thick with desire. I rummaged his balls with one hand, restlessly moving in their tight ballsack. I heard the other guys removing their footwear and pants. My mouth had to stretch to go over his shaft, and I went slowly up and down. This was not a cock that I would be able to take in all the way. I had a delightful next five minutes or so, about all that Rob could hold out. I didn't suck him the whole time, and in fact, I especially enjoyed holding his cock upright in one hand while I licked his balls, taking each of his big eggs in my mouth for a good suckle. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see the other guys, eyes riveted on the scene, some of them with their hands on their own cocks. But sliding my lips over Rob's shaft -- pausing at the ridgeline of his cockhead to tongue his tip and play my lips lightly over that sharp, sensitive edge -- that was super-sweet. He had his hands on his hips, I didn't dare look at his face, I knew his eyes were on me, watching me handle his exquisite penis. I closed my eyes and felt my own groin squeezing involuntarily. I wanted to make him come now, then again inside me later. I sensed his growing arousal and increased the tempo of my up-and-down, in-and-out. I licked the underside of his penis, that long central tube through which the sperm would travel. I quickened my lip motions on his cockhead and felt his hips stiffen. A few more strong suckings and the head grew a bit larger, a tad more swollen, then my reward arrived suddenly -- five good strong pulses of sperm. The strength of the first spurt took me by surprise. He pushed into me frantically, the mass of sperm was warm and thick. I delighted in the way his penis rhythmically contracted, my mouth enveloping him and sensing the pure force of his pleasure. Gradually his hips slowed as I continued to nurse at the head of his penis, my movements very soft and gentle. I knew Jim usually couldn't stand much attention after he came. Finally I let his penis slop out of my mouth. The head was smaller already, but all of it, shaft as well, was wet and gleaming in the lamplight of the study. I permitted myself a look at Rod. His face was red and tensed up, but pleased. "Nice," he said in an unnaturally small but satisfied voice. "Thank you, Suzanne." A perfect gentleman. He exhaled and a little shudder went through his big body. The others were standing there, cocks all out and hard. Jim said later that my eyes were shining with excitement. The other guys looked over at me with hunger in their eyes. I think I could have asked them to go outside and do jumping-jacks naked on the front lawn and they would have done so if it meant they'd have a shot at me. "Billie," I said hoarsely. "Come on over." I wanted him finished quickly so there would be no turning back. His face screwed up in some sort of odd expression, and for a brief moment I thought he might chicken out. But he walked over, little cock of his bobbing up and down. I pulled the hair thingy off my wrist and put my hair back in a ponytail. I had meant to have done this earlier with Rob to keep my hair out of the way for my ease of movement and in case things got messy. Giving him the lewdest look I could manage, I nuzzled his testicles, and licked the underside of his penis. By the time I slid my lips over his cockhead, his hips were already quivering. He lasted no time at all. I had fun taking him all the way down, my nose buried in his brown crotch hair, then licking and sucking at the head of his little penis. It was so damn hard, unbendable, ferociously aroused. He made the most endearing noises as he got close, sort of a series of exhales, "Hah, hah, hah!" and then a quick frantic thrusting of his hips and I caught his sperm. It was not a lot, thin but still viscous, but it came out fast. I had my hands on his asscheeks when he went off, I could feel them squeeze together like he was emptying a clip at the firing range. "Oh jeez," was all he could manage to say at the end. I nursed at his cockhead, until he pulled out. He looked at me with the most peculiar expression, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and turned around and collapsed on a chair in the corner of the room, his penis flopping on his thigh. Luckily it was one of the chairs that had a slipcover. My eyes met Roderick's. He walked over slowly, his penis wagging from side to side. I loved how heavy the head looked, how nicely his erection fit along with the rest of his tall, strong frame. I thought about how my lips would be going where only Chrissie's mouth was accustomed to go, and somehow that idea increased my excitement. He stood in front of me and I ran my fingers over his penis. I slid the cockskin back so the head was exposed, and let his heavy cockhead drop into my mouth. His penis was about three-quarters erect, and with Jim I always like to play with his cock in this condition. It is soft enough to go down further in my throat, and the way a penis hardens in my mouth remains one of my most favorite things. His cockhead was so smooth, so much pressure built up behind it. He stood with hands on his hips while I tongued and licked him until he was steel-hard, and then I nuzzled his balls and slid his foreskin up and down. It was a very handsome number, all veined and hard and straight. A whirl of thoughts crowded into my head: about Chrissie, the image of her taking him in her mouth or him thrusting into her groin and dumping his sperm there. How often they coupled, whether she made a lot of noise when they were making love. All of this excited me even more. He erupted in my mouth very strongly, several good swallows' worth, and his asscheeks felt super in my hands, pushing, contracting, pumping his sperm home into my mouth. He stood away carefully. Finally it was my Jim's turn. He gazed long and hard at me. I knew he was totally aroused, not only by his expression, but by looking at his penis, hard as a rock, pointing nearly straight up to the ceiling. I would need to go slow with him or he would be ejaculating instantly. I got off the chair and knelt in front of him, looking up at his face the whole time. The boys were going to get a good show. I held his penis in my hand, gently sliding his foreskin up and down. I never tired of seeing his cock's head come out into the open, then get tucked back into its sheath, the original hide-and-seek game. I worshiped his balls, licked underneath them, reveling in their scent. They were all drawn up, and I took each of his eggs into my mouth for a good suckling, his crotch hair tickling my nose. I had to pull his penis down with my left hand in order to finally get it into my mouth. I held his balls in my other hand while I went slowly, ever so slowly, lips gliding along his shaft, pausing to cup and tickle his cockhead. I tried to keep him in my mouth only a little bit at a time. I rubbed his cock wetly over my face, into my hair, along my forehead, cheeks. And I licked it bottom to top. It was beautiful. The guys were totally silent. I could feel all their eyes on us. I couldn't remember the last time I had taken Jim this way, on my knees in front of him. It always felt a little naughty when I did so, but reverential at the same time. Normally when I sucked him it was in bed, usually as a prelude to coupling, but occasionally to climax. The last time on my knees might have been a quick adventure outside when we were on a walk in the forest together, when speed and urgency and uncontrollable desire had ruled the whole process. I looked up at his face, his eyes shining with lust, and gently took his penis head inside my mouth. I went slow at first, just along his head, cupping his balls with one hand while I ran my other along his asscheeks. God he felt good. But he was close, and I started going quicker, lips gliding along, making sure his cock head got a good suction on the outstroke. He leaned in and put his hands on my shoulders and I felt his weight shift onto me. I had to brace myself to hold us both upright. He started pistoning his hips now, forcing his penis into my mouth violently and grunting like a madman, frantically fucking my face. He came long and hard, the first pulse of sperm was so intense, and I took all of his six or so pushes in stride, my hands feeling his asscheeks squeeze themselves silly. Jim's sperm was so familiar, but so powerful right now. I felt a little light-headed, dizzy with pleasure. My own groin squeezed and I felt the dampness of my own excitement grow. Then the hands came off, and he put them on his hips. I nursed his cockhead as long as I dared, and then rubbed it against each of my cheeks, delighting in the wet slime trails, his penis all slobbery and spent. I stood and we embraced, it felt so good, and I was aware that his wet groin was pressing into the front of my dress, probably leaving a mark. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear. "So hot, babe, so hot." These were not the usual words I would typically hear. I think it was Roderick who first started applauding, and then all the guys joined in, clapping their hands and grinning like a drunken Irish boat crew. "Wow," went Rob. "Amazing." I looked over at the guys, all the damp, deflated penises in the room. I didn't want the night to be over quite yet. "Think maybe any of you are good for more?" my eyes flashed, issuing a challenge. They looked at each other, and Rob was the first to nod. Jim gave me a "go ahead" look. Suzanne's Supreme Night of Poker Ch. 03 Best enjoyed if you read the earlier parts, at least Chapter one. ***** I stood very tall gazing at the four men, my groin now quite determined to have its own pleasure. My nipples were stiff against my dress, I vowed to make the boys' cocks hard again. My head whirled with the most extraordinary admixture of lust-driven thoughts. "Why don't you boys take a pit stop in the bathroom, and then let's retire to the bedroom. More privacy there. More comfortable." I suddenly realized how potentially visible we had been in the study. It is not in the absolute front part of the house, but our activities would have been quite a sight if someone had wandered by on a walk outside. I went hand-in-hand to the bedroom with Jim. "You sure?" I asked, looking carefully into his face. "You are so ... incredible," he said, eyebrows arching. "I haven't seen you this ... excited, exciting ... in a long time, ever." His voice trailed off. I wasn't sure what thoughts were behind his words, maybe some surprised awe at the sexual energy my efforts had produced? At just how much desire was in the air? "Can I ask a favor?" I was very hopeful. "What?" he asked, his eyes wide, perhaps a little worried at what my request might be. "Can I save you until later, after everyone's gone? I would really enjoy that." "You won't be too tired for me?" This apparently was his only concern. "No, not at all." We kissed and embraced. Rob's big frame then filled up the doorway, the others behind him. "Come on in fellas," I said. "Might as well get the rest of your clothes off, this room is going to get mighty warm." Roderick laughed and the boys pulled shirts and everything else off. They all looked fine - good strong male bodies in their prime, well accustomed to physical work. Then, I was taken by surprise, really the first time that night. Rob stood forward. "I think we should give you a little backrub," he said carefully. "Kinda a repayment for hosting us." I liked the way he said "hosting." My face flushed a little but I was grateful for the offer. Rob and Jim untied my dress in the back and pulled it and my shoes off. Billie was totally surprised to see my thong, his mouth open like a carp out of water. I still wanted to wear my stockings however, oddly enough I felt more exposed by leaving them on. I was keenly aware that a whole room full of men were staring at my near-naked body. If their eyes had been laser beams, my nipples would have been burnt to a crisp. I held my stomach in a little, but probably didn't need to. They laid me down on my front on the bed and went to work on me. I don't mind telling you it was sweet. Strong energetic hands, four pair of them, working over each little corner of my body at the same time. I felt my shoulders relax, my legs, my back, my rump, everywhere. I just closed my eyes and let the built-up tension in me go away. One by one the hands left off, and I was left with just Rob on top of me, straddling my hips, rubbing my shoulders, his big paws kneading my muscles into submission. I could feel that his penis had hardened and was resting on the small of my back. A little shudder of anticipated pleasure ran through me. I urged him off me, and turned over on my back. A quick look at Rob and Jim was enough for them to each take a side of my thong and pull it off me, smoothly easing it off and down my stocking-encased legs. And my groin was now out for all to see. I felt open and entirely vulnerable and yet intensely excited. This was the first time in the evening when some doubt crept in. What was I doing? I was Jim's steadfast wife, devoted mother of Aden and Buster, now naked, groin gaping open, thighs spread wide, my crotch subject to (or rather, inviting), penis-invasion by Jim's best buddies? I knew that once I had taken Roderick's member into my mouth, maybe even when I had first retrieved Jim's cock from his pants under the card table, that I had passed over a threshold which I would never entirely be able to recross. And of course, everything had then escalated rapidly and already now I had taken many mouthfuls of sperm from each of these guys. And here I was, expecting, more eagerly than I ever would have imagined, to have more sperm from them injected into me. They would never - despite my urging for secrecy - ever be able to look at me again quite the same way. Nor I them. I was at the edge of the three-meter diving-board now, looking down over my toes into the deep end of the pool, and my stomach gave a flutter. But I wanted this to continue. I wanted to know each of these guys more intimately, feel their desire for me, experience the sensation of their erect vibrant cocks up me, their sperm jetting into my insides, giving them pleasure, experiencing my own pleasure. And then to celebrate with Jim. Or at least that was my hope. My groin won out over my nerves, not for the first time in my life. It squeezed with anticipation and I was gripped in the power of my own seeping, humid, vaginal excitement. I pulled my hair thingy off and shook my hair out so it was loose and wild. Jim always said he liked it so much when my hair was spread out over the pillows in bed. I looked so much more wanton that way, he maintained - inviting, beckoning, seductive. Jim's eyes gleamed when I did this, the other guys' eyes were lean and hungry looking. "You first," I spoke hoarsely to Jim, "then Rob? Can you get me a little warmed up?" I squeezed my crotch, then almost giggled. "Not like I am going to need a lot." They knew what I meant. Jim nestled in between my legs and licked me. It was sweet, he was slow, and I felt my lips get more aroused as his tongue went up and down them. But I was anxious to have Rob there too, this hadn't been part of my original plan, but I wanted his mouth there too, and I gestured him over. His chin stubble was a bit jarring, and he felt completely different than Jim, although he too was soft and gentle. I thought about his tongue probing his own wife, Sharon, and her big hips and pelvis eagerly moving around underneath his ministrations. "Billie, come here." I gestured him over to my head and had him kneel next to me. I wanted a two-ring circus. His penis was only half-hard, and I took him in my mouth, again, for a few minutes. Having it grow in my mouth, build up arousal, become an appendage stiff enough to do some penetrating, all this was gratifying to me. I was not sure how long he would last inside me, but he had come once already and on the second round was likely to go a little longer at least. After a quick taste, mostly for my own amusement, but also to establish his readiness, I urged him down to my groin, as Rob made way. It had felt nice to have stimuli from two different places. Billie had a goof-ball look on his face and his stiff little penis slid up me easily enough. "Go slow," I urged him, and he began to rock his hips into mine. Well, he went slow for maybe the first dozen thrusts or so, then pretty much picked up pace quickly. His skinny hips soon were pushing into me hard, the root of his penis banging into the top of my mound nicely. But the rapidity of his movements made it felt like I was being attacked by a crazed ferret. Or maybe from the sidelines it looked like one of those antique kids' whirligig toys where a miniature woodsman saws at a log. In-and-out, faster and faster, mindless, methodical, mechanical. I urged Roderick over, I might as well keep the line coming. This would be one of my long-imagined fantasies, never even confessed to Jim, about having two cocks attend to me at the same time. Nuzzling his nuts and taking his cock into my mouth, while Billie was pushing frantically at the other end of my torso - that was extraordinary. My imagination had always included this part, but it was even nicer in real time. Billie's penis slid fast and easily inside me, and I could take my time to savor the taste and feel of Roderick's cock. Once again, I delighted in sliding his foreskin up and down over his cockhead, the smell and up-close visual of his penis right in my face absolutely captivating. I entered my own little world, not even paying much attention to either of the guys doing all this, just focusing on both the cock in front of my face and in my mouth, and the delicious sensations emanating from my own groin below. It was marvelous. But Billie had begun pushing frantically now, making little animal-like grunts. I put one hand on his rump to feel it squeezing away, and slid my other set of fingers up and down Roderick's penis, so hard and smooth. Billie put his head down on my shoulder and I could feel his penis discharge within me. His rump movements changed, no longer frantic, they were long and urgent, and he pushed his penis as deep into me as it would go, the last thrusts prolonged, the last drop of sperm pushed to the top of my channel. Billie pulled out, after a short rest on me, his slender body completely limp on top of me. Again, it looked like his face had no idea of what sort of expression to make. Ultimately it settled into a pleased little smile, and I urged Roderick down. His cock had tasted so good, it was quite hard now, and bobbed stiffly as he shifted down to my groin. He settled carefully on top of me, I smelled his hair and his tart salty underarm scent. He was so much larger and heavier than Jim, I wondered how well I would support his body on top of me. But he seemed to be conscious of our size difference and was careful. He used one hand to position his penis, and then he was up me, smoothly, almost before I was aware of it. He moved lovely, his penis was so much thicker than Billie's, and I delighted in the grip my groin-lips gave his girth when he began his strong, slow, delectable movements inside me. My eyes found Rob's, and he too came over to the head of the bed and knelt down next to me. I looked at his face while my fingers stroked his penis, not completely hard, then put the big round head of it into my mouth. Again, twice now, I was treated to the pleasure of a penis at both ends of me. It was better than I ever imagined, I could let my consciousness go to either end, feel a hardening cock in my mouth, and an energetic one pushing inside me, stretching me, doing lovely things to the top of my notch. Roderick must have been holding some of his weight off me somehow, since I did not feel oppressed by his bulk. He moved his rump in a variety of ways, not keeping the same rhythm for long, but going quickly, then slowing down, then making an odd side-to-side motion. Rob's cock in my mouth had gotten quite hard, I had him straddle my head so I could lick and suck his balls for diversion. This changed the whole deal for me, most of my sight taken away with just a giant excited crotch over my face, sweet turgid balls in my mouth, while Roderick plowed away. Sooner than I wanted, Roderick began to pick up speed. His attention must have drifted completely to the sensations in his groin too, as his body now felt very heavy on me. I put a hand on his haunches to feel them in their final throes. He was pushing hard, violently. He came with a series of exhales, his mouth fastened on my neck, and his penis ended with a mighty thrust, and a slow series of last pushes. Rob got off my head, and I saw Roderick dismount. He gave me a long satisfied look, and I liked the way his penis appeared in the light of the room, all wet and dangling as it emerged from the warm, welcoming grip my crotch had just had on him. His cock was in full retreat, I knew it would look nearly lifeless within just a few minutes. Rob traced his fingers around my breasts, tweaked each erect nipple until I gave a little shudder, just short of an uncomfortable pain, and nestled himself down at my crotch. He knelt, looking at me the whole time, and used one hand to place his cockhead right at my lips. He teased me a bit, running his penis up and down them. I was wet beyond belief and becoming anxious for some relief. And then slowly, he pushed home and laid on top of me. He took me by surprise and started kissing me while we coupled, his tongue moving inside my mouth, his hands tracing lines along my flanks. The sensations jumbled about. Rob was not Jim. His body was larger, his movements so different. How can two males fuck so differently? It's the same thing, after all. But he was kissing me, running his hands over my flanks, up and down, and his penis was doing lovely things to my insides. And he was in full-desire mode. His rump made conscious, deliberate movements, pushing his cock in, pulling it out. I delighted in feeling with my hands the movement of his rump and back as he arched and pushed, arched and pushed. His big body covered me, his strong arms holding me tight. It was intoxicating. Suddenly we were all startled to hear a cell-phone ring. It was Roderick's, and he frantically rifled through his crumpled up jeans piled on the floor looking for the right pocket. "Hey Chrissie," he said a bit breathlessly, after grabbing his phone and finally stabbing a finger at the right button. We all listened to see if we could hear what she was saying, but we couldn't make out the words. "Ah yeah ... running a bit late tonight. I'll be home soon," he said a bit sheepishly. Billie stifled a snicker. "Ah, no... I've done okay. Just me and the boys are still enjoying ourselves. Not too much longer." Billie had to put his hands over his face so he wouldn't bust up laughing. I half wanted to grab the phone and pull it down to my crotch to catch the noises being made by Rob, who hadn't stopped pushing into me. I almost laughed aloud with the idea. Almost wanted to start moaning loudly so Chrissie could hear what was going on. Yell out that I really enjoyed the thick strong manly taste of the sperm from her husband's penis. "Yeah, okay honey... yep, see you shortly," and Roderick got off the phone, his face very red. Rob's movements were enchanting. I did not have another cock to attend to, so I was able to focus on the movements of his own penis, how his pubic area pressed nicely into me, the friction and pleasure produced by our coupling. The prolonged attention to my groin was beginning to accumulate. Rob kissed me hard, deeply. It was odd, since I had done all these other intimate things with these guys, but here was big strong Rob, on top of me, and his tongue was moving around my mouth, probing, slipping about. Rob's mouthwork moved my arousal another notch forward. I found myself raising my legs, circling them around his back, gripping his flanks with my thighs, letting him move more deeply into me. He had found a nice rhythm and the climax I had been building towards all evening suddenly started accelerating. He put his hands under my ass, spreading my cheeks a bit, and then I came, my breath leaving me completely. I do not normally make much noise when climaxing, but my breath vanished with a prolonged exhale as my groin squeezed rhythmically around Rob's penis. It was an inside-out climax, heightened by all the energy I had thrown into the evening. His penis felt marvelous, live and powerful. Jim said later I was much nosier than usual. I had to disentangle from Rob's kiss so I wouldn't bite his tongue. I turned my head to the side and came hard, my groin clenching repeatedly. It is so rare when I climax while coupling, the waves ran over me, as my crotch clenched onto Rob's cock, my hips quivering uncontrollably, so sweet. Of course he could tell what was going on for me underneath, big Rob, and I think my own actions spurred him on. He started humping harder, deeper, and then I felt him let go too, with strong urgent pushes at the end as he drove into me. And then his hips slowed, a last few deep pushes, and he was still. His bulk felt heavier all of a sudden, I noticed the smell of his hair and breath. He kissed me. It was extraordinary. Our breathing slowly returned to normal, although I continued to run my hands over his back and now soft ass. But finally he uncoupled. I saw, with some pleasure, how small and depleted his penis was as it came out. It had done its job marvelous well. He stood up, and extended a hand to me and pulled me up as well. Jim sidled over, bless him, and we exchanged a warm kiss. My groin was still tingling. None of us really quite knew how to end things, of course we had never done anything remotely like this before, but together we all more or less knew that this part of the evening was over. Everyone started to go about gathering up their clothes and belongings. They dressed quietly, carefully, except Jim, who pulled on pants and shirt loosely, shirttails out and buttons undone, just clothed enough so that he could get his friends to the front door in a presentable fashion. Before the crew made their way out of the bedroom, they stopped over and each gave me a shy kiss. I made sure to give each crotch a soft little caress through their pants by way of farewell. I heard snatches of conversation in the front part of the house as they left and departed to their trucks, backslaps to Jim, easy in their comfortable male affection. "Jesus Jim, she is so fucking hot." "Tits to die for, you lucky bastard." "Suzanne sure sucks a mean cock." "No idea you were sitting on such a find, man." "Poker here any night you want, Jimbo." And then the front door shut, and the boys were gone. Suzanne's Supreme Night of Poker Ch. 04 Best enjoyed if you read the earlier sections, at least Part One. ***** There was a bit of quiet after the boys left, the sound of their trucks starting and then heading down the driveway. I heard Jim locking the front door, turning off the lights before making his way to the back of the house. I stood, leaning against the side of the bedroom doorway, waiting for him. I suddenly got tense. What was this going to do to us? I had acted a bit rashly. Well, not "a bit," but completely. While I had done some checking in with Jim while our little group sexual adventures spooled along, and there were several pivotal times when he could have called a halt to everything, we certainly hadn't discussed this together beforehand. I didn't know his interior mindset, and I was now near-paralyzed with concern. His embrace of me when he got to the bedroom calmed a lot of my worries. He had only carelessly pulled on his clothes, and I could feel his bare chest press against mine with his shirt open. He hugged me hard, and I found myself melting into him, my head resting on his shoulder. We looked at each other. I had been standing long enough that I had started to feel some of all that semen inside of me begin to drip down and out of my groin, and I grew a bit uncertain. "Would you like me to shower first?" I asked. It occurred to me that this might make a difference to him, that he might want me cleaned up a bit, free from the smell and soggy fluids left over from his over-heated male buddies. I got a keen look from him in response. "No babe, I would like to take you just as you are." His words excited me. He looked evenly at me. "Feel this." He placed my hand on his crotch. His cock was pointing straight up, I could feel it right through his pants, no doubt of his arousal. "See what you have done?" "Let me pee a second Jimbo? I can't wait for you though..." His hug loosened and I gratefully made my way to the bathroom. After a good release of fluids, I gave my oozing crotch a good mopping up with a towel. Jim was waiting for me back at the bedroom doorway, clothes off, penis out stiff. He had turned off all the lights except one on my bed-stand, the one with a dimmer control, which we liked to turn way down when feeling especially romantic. It cast a low, diffuse candle-light type of glow around the room. He greeted me with a kiss and hug at the doorway, and I melted into his arms again. I so much wanted to couple with him now. He took me by surprise and put an arm under my legs, the other under my back, and lifted me abruptly off my feet. Big smile on his face, he carried me lightly to the bed and deposited me softly on the sheets, rumpled from all our fuckings earlier in the evening. He proceeded to kiss my body, up and down, neck, arms, armpits, almost tickling me there, and down my flanks, also uncomfortably ticklish. Then, this was so arousing at the time and took me by surprise, he took the top of one of my stockings in his teeth and very slowly, as it was a bit complicated, pulled it off my leg, all the way down, then did the other one. Something about watching him use his teeth to remove my last bit of clothing was highly exciting. His stiff penis bobbed with his movements, it looked real nice in the dim light of the room. He knelt in front of my crotch and I wondered if he would dare lick me, I did not expect this after all the other boys had been there and filled me with their sperm, but he merely gave the top of my mound a kiss, then moved up alongside me. We kissed, and he twiddled his fingers on my mound, running them through my damp hair and along the outside, then slid them along my slippery lips, felt so good. Similarly I stroked his penis, fully hard and lovely smooth. I am not sure how he managed to hold off as long as he did over the next stretch. He was aroused, as much as I had ever seen, or felt, him. We entered a little time-warp, it might have been as little as a half hour, maybe twice that, but everything went in slow motion. He penetrated me at least four different times, not staying all that long at any of them until the last. He straddled my chest, dangled his penis into my mouth, let me nuzzle and lick his balls. For some reason I love this, having him over me, his penis hard against my chest, close to me, running the stiff underside over my face and cheeks. He looked fine, his familiar penis so strong and handsome, engorged, veins showing in the low light of our bedroom. He tweaked my nipples, licked my armpits, my flanks, twiddled my mound until I was dying to come. My groin was white-hot, all seeping wet inside, he brought me to the edge several times with his hand and fingertips, and then let me stew in my own arousal. For my part, it was intoxicating, and a relief, to have him lead our sexual dance. I had managed things all evening long, and now my Jim was the conductor, his penis-baton waving about, keeping time, coaxing near crescendos out of me, then slipping us into a slower interlude. I wasn't passive, not gauging by how happily I licked and sucked his penis, but he was the one to run the show. His eyes shone with a deep desire. He had flopped me on my stomach once, kissed and kneaded my ass, spreading my cheeks, then mounted me from behind. We rarely did this, it always felt nasty, primitive, animal-like. And yet it felt good to have him from behind, his mouth fastened to my neck, his hands cupping my breasts, my ass enjoying his thrusts, feeling his hips pressing into me. But he didn't want to finish that way, I think he wanted to be looking at me when he finally came, face to face, and that is indeed how we ended. He had laid next to me, side by side, our heads sharing the pillow while he kissed me, his fingers playing my notch, my fingers on his erection. I was impossibly close, right on the edge. My nipples were alive, my hips moving restlessly as he continued to push and rub with his fingers. Slowly he rose up, let me kiss the head of his dick one last time, and then slipped down to my crotch and pushed up me. It felt like returning home after a long vacation, his cock entering my channel, stretching me lovely, then feeling the pressure as his pubic area pressed into the top of my mound. He went slow at first. My legs were stiffening, I didn't dare kiss him any more, afraid I might bite his tongue, and my head thrashed about. And then the waves hit me just as he started to pick up speed. His movements were so strong, so powerful. My crotch clenched him tightly, in cycles. I am sure I made sounds like whimpering it felt so good. He felt my own climax, the clamping I put on his own cock, and he came himself only a minute or so afterward, very strong frantic thrusts as he sent his sperm home, then those long slow, almost wistful post-climax pushes at the end. We were both panting, nearly breathless. He laid on top of me for a long time, our arms around each other, while I felt his discharged penis slowly soften inside me. Finally we each disentangled and made our separate trips to the bathroom. He curled up behind me as we settled towards sleep. I liked having his arms around me, his soft, warm crotch pressed up against my ass. Although my body was thoroughly exhausted, my mind was not quite ready for slumber, and restless urgent thoughts kept crashing around in my head. "Jim?" "Yes babe?" "Would you want to do this again?" The silence behind me went on long enough I became a little worried. Or perhaps he had not heard me. "Jim?" "I'm still thinking, babe." Another long silence. "I'd like you to understand this fully," he began slowly, carefully. "In no way am I sorry tonight happened." Another pause. "Although you took absolutely everyone by surprise." I half laughed. "You too?" I asked. "Maybe more than anyone. You were quite the show. I know we talked a little last week about things, expanding horizons and all, but tonight was way beyond that." He paused. "I had figured if anything out of the ordinary was going to happen, it would be much further down the road." I hesitated. "And you thought we might talk about it first?" "Right." "And you might have something to say about it too?" "Right." I felt him give me a gentle squeeze with his arms. "So, okay, we had a night of it. Some night. But I am not sure I - we - could handle another," he said quietly. "Why's that? You looked like you were enjoying yourself." "There is no question about that, but what I am saying is not just about enjoyment." Another pause. "It just will be easier all around, better in the long run, if tonight was a one-and-done." "No one is going to forget this evening Jim, you know that. I don't doubt that some of them at least would want to do this again." "I think you're right," he laughed. "I think we could call the boys over again tomorrow and they'd rush here wagging their tails and drooling and their tongues would be hanging out, hopping ready for another round. But sometimes it is possible to do something once and then pretend it never happened and continue on." It was my turn to laugh. "Pretend it never happened? There is no way Billie, say, is ever going to look at me again and not rewind his tape to what happened tonight. He had his penis unexpectedly sucked and then erupted in my mouth! Then again in my groin! His sperm went into different ends of me twice! Watched me suck and fuck all of you! I didn't grow up here, and don't know him like you do, but I can guarantee that his memory will have tonight fixed in his head for life." "You are dead right." Another pause. "But try thinking of it this way. Bear with me a minute. There are things that happen, and there are things that happen because you want them to." He was quiet for a moment, considering his next words. "When I was in middle school here, maybe twelve, thirteen years old, I went and stole something from the town drug store. I didn't need it, it was just a magazine I rolled up and stuffed into my jacket before walking out the door. I just did it to see if I could do it. I felt terrible afterward. Guilty. Awful. I'd pulled a fast one and gotten away with it. No one but me knew about it. And you know what? I never stole anything again, ever. It is not like that my stealing didn't happen, it was possible for me to tell people about it and everything, but I moved on. It was an event I couldn't deny, but I knew I could never do it again. You do something once, okay it happened, things happen. But if you do it again? Means you wanted to. And for us, in this town, with my friends, that is dangerous ground." I thought for a bit. "So if we had another, ah, night like this, it would be different?" "Completely. You couldn't call it 'accidental' then. It would be willful adultery." I shuddered a little as he said this last word. "I will have to think more, but it is probably best if we leave this as it is. I want to thank you for it, you were extraordinary." He exhaled and I felt his hand squeeze my breast. "But I think once is plenty. Puts all of us at the straining point of capacity." We were quiet for a bit. "If I tell the guys not to say anything, they won't," he finally said. "Although I will have to talk to them all together, as well as individually. But they will be silent." "Really?" Part of me could not quite believe this, although I wanted to. This is not a big town. "No, if I insist, they will be quiet. Reliably. That is the kind of friends we are. But if this happens again? At some point something like this gets a life of its own. There gets to be some drama. Stuff gets off balance, out of kilter, and then the overflow is ugly. And I don't want to deal with that. I don't think you do either." We talked a little more. He was calm, rational, firm. He was right, I guess. He also said it probably wasn't a good idea to ever even have poker-night at our home again. The guys would have their hopes up, want to do a repeat. And in fact we never did. Or at least haven't. But my head wasn't quite done, I was thinking about different parts of the recent excitement. "How about with just Rob?" I finally asked. I tried to keep my voice even. Not even sure what I wanted. Inside my head I went back over what it felt like when Rob's penis was shooting into my mouth, then my innards. How thick and powerful it felt. What having two cocks attend to me at the same time felt like. That experience had possessed an intensity I had not completely expected. I suppose some part of me didn't want to have just discovered this new-found pleasure only to have to give it up immediately. "Maybe. I will have to think." We were silent. "Babe?" "Yes Jim?" "I love you." He whispered this into my ear. Part of me relaxed. This was what mattered. "I love you too Jim. Thanks. You're a sweetheart. The best man I could ever have met." He gave me a squeeze and we drifted off to a body-weary, thoroughly spent sleep. It was the first act for the rest of an amazing week. We talked about that night continually for the four days before the kids got home. I didn't want to make love the next day, feeling more worn out internally than I had for a long time, but my desire to please, and to take pleasure in Jim's pleasure, remained at a fever pitch. I went braless, indoors at least, for the rest of the week, Jim enjoying the look of my nipples and breasts moving around inside whatever I was wearing. I liked the sharp gleam in his eyes when he was gazing at me, felt his hungry eyes violating me, making me feel womanly, desired. We did couple twice more that week, including a long languorous morning tryst early Saturday before we drove to pick up the kids from camp. After our supernova Tuesday night I made it my business to suck Jim's penis to climax every morning before he went off to work. I made breakfast for him each morning with the taste of his semen still in my mouth. He left the house with a smile every time. I got more sperm out of him in those few days than even in our wildest weekends early on in our relationship. Later every day that week when I was on my own in the quiet deserted house that had hosted our energy-packed little bacchanal, I would think about all the erect cocks that had experienced pleasure here that Tuesday night, what they had looked like in the evening light, erect and desirous in front of me, how nice their sperm felt jetting into my mouth, and then how sweet they felt inside me, pushing, stretching me, pulsing out their sperm. How absolutely excited my state of mind had been when I was planning, then executing the event. I felt well rewarded. The visuals were intense, the memories sharp. But most of all I found my thoughts going to Jim, the look in his eyes when he grew aroused that night, his penis, how excited he had been, the sperm that had come out of him, the way his cock had pulsed and spasmed when he climaxed either in my mouth or my crotch that night. My own groin would contract with enjoyment. This was the guy I married, the man who loved me. Our marriage had gone and created for itself a sweet little new wrinkle, out of the blue. And it is good to do new things sometimes, makes you think, helps you go forward in life. Suzanne's Supreme Night of Poker Finally, I pulled on some black sheer stockings that came up high under my dress. They would be the only thing that any of the guys might think was outside the normal, at first glance anyway. The guys came to the house singly in their pickup trucks and parked in a line up the driveway that Tuesday, as usual, but all within fifteen minutes of each other. Billie was first, a little short guy with a small dark mustache and his ever-present baseball cap, a bit tense and serious, but his brown eyes were kind, his bearing unnaturally erect, like he was compensating for being so short. He had nervous hands that always were fidgeting with something - his keys, his glasses, a pen. "Hi Suzanne," he said, and gave my cheek a quick kiss, and then shook hands with Jim. Roderick came straight from the quarry, rockdust still on his boots. His big farmboy face, clean-shaven with red cheeks, always made him look ten years younger than the others. His arms were big, shoulders wide. He was a good straight-shooter, patient and attentive. For the most part he was usually quite reserved, but was capable of loud, noisy energy when surrounded by his band of brothers. Rob, almost by tradition, was the last to arrive, and I had already seen to it that the boys each had their first Budweiser in hand. "Hey good looking," he went as usual, his eyes going up and down me. I know he noticed the stockings, since he gave me a small, amused smile. "A black and tan." "No heels, I see. Guess you're not playing tonight then." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I felt his hand on my hip when he leaned down for the kiss, not unusual, but I wondered if he could tell through the thin fabric that I didn't have regular panties on. My pulse quickened a notch. "Well, we'll see," I replied, maybe a little impishly. "Night's still young." He gave me an inquiring look but turned to the rest of the guys. They started in on their game pretty much straight away, on the small, square, wooden four-legged table pulled to the center of the study, which is a cozier place than the living room. I hung in the distance for the first hour or so, nursing a glass of wine at the kitchen table where I could glance at the game and hear the conversation. I came in a couple times to top up pretzels and see if any of the guys needed anything. I thought Rob gave me a longer than usual glance once, a vaguely lecherous smile on his face, his eyes on my breasts. I made sure he got a good look when I leaned over one time. There was a marathon hand around eight PM, with a pile of protracted bidding and I could sense more tension in the air as the bets increased, and the guys were quieter, less bantering. Finally a whoop went up from Billie, and I heard a bunch of crowing about winning the pot, running the table, plus some complaining and whining about "Lady Luck" from the others. I saw Jim's face was gloomier than usual, he didn't take losing easily, and I guessed from the jests that he had bet and lost the worst. I sauntered in with a tray of beers, and opened ones for any of the guys who were done, or nearly so. "Sounds like somebody won larger than usual," I said casually, surveying the guys. "Billie cleaned up big time," said Roderick, making a face. "Can't believe two pair did it," added Rob. "Always tough to be the loser." I said this with exaggerated empathy, although I think only Rob picked up on my tone. He gave me a long look-over, his eyes drifting from my stockings to my now erect nipples beneath my dress. "Your guy took the the biggest hit, betting like a madman all the way to the end," he said. "Not sure his night will ever recover." As I went around the table I made sure that the fellows saw the movement of my breasts inside my dress. By Jim's expression I knew that this was the first time he had noticed I was braless. His eyes reflected both interest and alarm. Billie's eyes followed me hungrily, like he had never seen a girl's breasts move around inside a blouse untethered before. "Well, we can't have poor Jimbo sulking, that would ruin it for everyone," I said. Taking a deep breath, I then "accidentally" let the bottle-opener fall out of my hand and drop under the table. I put the tray down next to the cards and bent down under the table to retrieve the opener. Jim's hand was reaching for it too, but I stopped him with a touch. My heart was racing. I crawled under the table, knowing that maybe part of my rump would be visible, along with the wide black top-edgings on my stockings, to some of them anyway, as I went. I fetched the opener. Underneath the table it was darker than the rest of the room of course, but I could see the crotches of all the guys arrayed in their four respective seats. It smelled sweaty, a bit musty, salty stale socks and boots and leather and male flavors. I made my way over to Jim's crotch and, heart in my mouth, undid his belt and fly and fished his penis from his undershorts. It took the guys a few moments to figure out what was going on. I liked his smell, as always. A bit sweaty, but with his own ballsy, crotch scent that never has ceased to excite my nose. His penis was soft, but by sucking lightly on his cockhead, and running my tongue along his dick's ridgeline, he hardened quickly. But the boys had noticed I hadn't emerged from the table with the bottle-opener in hand, and one by one they realized what was happening. A stunned silence, punctuated by a nervous cough or two, descended on the group. I was acutely aware of myself, time slowing down, my unseen presence making a huge dent in each of these guys' consciousness. But they all knew I was there, right next to them but beneath, doing something to Jim that usually only occurred in private - for them in the quiet and seclusion of their own bedrooms, with their own wives. But their old friend - their host - they knew he was getting his cock sucked. A couple feet crossed and uncrossed, maybe a beer bottle got lifted and put back down on the table, but it was unnaturally quiet as everyone stopped conversation and listened, all senses alert. I imagined they were looking at Jim's face, trying to figure out how much he was enjoying having his penis pleasured. He had initially half-resisted my advance, pushing his hips away, but had given in. I hadn't really left him any choice. I delighted in feeling his cock grow in my mouth, become hard, feel so smooth and engorged on my tongue and along my lips. I made a little more noise than usual, wet licking sounds, knowing the guys above would be paying close attention. I was intensely aware that there were three other cocks within reach. It wouldn't take much effort to get to any one of them. It was darkish under the table, enclosed, almost claustrophobic, but highly alluring. My own groin began to dampen. I felt like a teenaged girl again, doing something dangerous and daring on a date, something I might regret or would get me in trouble. Finally, there was a nervous laugh and Billie said, "Well, looks like the loser's feelings are getting soothed." There were a couple chuckles, a bit forced. After a few minutes, long enough to get Jim good and worked up without getting too close to an ending, I retreated and sat back on my haunches. I had to tuck my head down, there wasn't room to sit properly. I wasn't coming out yet. A long awkward silence ensued. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to issue instructions, sort of a disembodied voice from down under, to continue with the game, when Rob seemed to intuit what was next. "Think it is my deal," he said, in his confident way, and I heard him shuffle and dish out the cards in turn to the rest of the crew, and another round was underway. I looked at each of the crotches, one by one, trying to imagine what each penis was like underneath their trousers. My nerves were on edge, the next piece of my plan now very exciting to me. The banter was sparser than usual, and a bit contrived. This hand was much shorter, and Roderick I judged to be the worst loser. Billie had won again by a bit. My hands trembled a bit as I fussed with Roderick's fly and belt. Once upon a time I had been good at this sort of clandestine endeavor. Finally his cock sprang free, not real erect but hardly soft. I slid his foreskin up and down a couple times and I could feel his body stiffen when I took his cockhead in my mouth for the first go-over. The guys were deathly silent, and again I imagined all eyes on Roderick's face. I went real slow, lips up and down over his smooth, excited cockhead, and Roderick hardened very quickly into a fine state. My heart was racing. I had no feedback from the crew other than the nervous shifting in their seats, their few awkward words, and of course, the movement of Roderick's hips when I had him under my spell. He was trying to keep them still but wasn't succeeding. This was my first cock other than Jim's for the last twelve years. Roderick's penis felt real different from Jim's. The head on Roderick's cock was narrow and pointy, and it was easy to slide his foreskin up and down when my mouth wasn't on him, and for some reason, more than for any of the others, I enjoyed just using my fingers on him, stroking, pulling his foreskin up and down, massaging his balls, watching his cockhead emerge from its sheath and then get covered again. But a few minutes of my mouth was enough to have his hips moving restlessly, and I left off. I wanted each of them absolutely aroused to within an inch of their lives by the time I emerged from underneath the table, for part two of my evening. Jim was the next "loser," his hard cockhead once more comfortable in my mouth, and then Roderick again. The first murmurings from above suggested there was some doubt now about how enthusiastically folks were playing to win. When Roderick lost but before I had taken his cock in my mouth for the second time, Billie insisted on seeing the cards Roderick had turned down when he folded, the last guy still wagering. "A Queen!" he said indignantly. "You were sitting on a Queen! That would've made a pair!" Rob "lost" the next hand, and I was even more nervous than the first time with Jim, when I started it all. I had no idea what to expect, but I found myself very eager to pull Rob's cock out. He smelled real nice, sawdust and sweat, and I could feel the heat emanating from his crotch. He too was pretty darn hard by the time my lips got to him. He had a big, round prominent head on his penis, his shaft felt thick in my hands, I couldn't get my fingers completely around him, and I couldn't stop myself from using one hand to fondle his balls. He spread his legs to ease my access. My own crotch was really seeping at this point, I could feel fluids start to drift past my thong. My imagination went wild, I so much wanted to be out from under the table, maybe on a bed, and have Rob's member doing lovely things to me. I was slow and thorough, maybe taking more time with him than even Jim, and his cock was ramrod hard at the end, pointing straight up, no curve at all. The head looked beautiful to me, gleaming wet in the dim light. I was under the table for about six or seven hands. Enough so that each penis got at least one go-over. Enough so my knees were getting uncomfortable. Billie was the last, and he was the only weak link in my plan. Billie was an ardent Methodist, the only one in the group who never missed a Sunday in church. He was devoted to his wife, Stacey, a short, plain, almost dowdy woman at only age thirty-five, and if someone was going to cop out or otherwise pose problems for the rest of the evening, it would be him. But by the time he badly lost a hand, I found that even before I began to fish his penis out of his pants that he was hard. Like rock hard. I gave his balls a good squeeze in encouragement, and found that his cockhead was already straining past his foreskin, which I slid down the last way. He had a small skinny penis, but there was no question about his excitement. I could take all of him easily, and his cockhead felt nice going all the way into my mouth. The odd thought that popped into my head then was that maybe Stacey had never sucked him. I would not have been surprised if they had only done it missionary, that the Bible didn't allow for this sort of thing. It was possible that this was the first set of lips to ever run over Billie's penis. The other guys were quiet while I worked him, and pretty soon his hips were squirming. I had them all under control. I left off and very slowly and deliberately emerged from under the table. I stood up, dignified, my knees grateful for a break, shook my head to even out my hair, smoothed my dress, and looked evenly at each of them in turn.