April

Gabe opened the front door and saw an immediate danger sign. "Ummm … Abbe?"

Her voice floated in from the bedroom. "Yes, dear?"

"Why is my black suit hanging on the closet door?"

"Because," she said, appearing before him in nothing but a silky robe that she held closed with a hand, "I just picked it up from the dry cleaner on my way home." She took the suit on its hanger and headed back for the bedroom.

Gabe followed. "And why, pray tell, did that suit suddenly need cleaning?"

"It was musty-smelling," she replied, hanging it carefully in the closet. "I want you all fresh and crisp for our April adventure."

"So you have an idea, do you?"

"Absolutely. Something we've never, ever done before."

"And it requires that we dress up? I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Don't be like that. I haven't even told you what it is yet."

Gabe shrugged. "Fair enough. But try as I might, my love, I can't think of a single fun option that requires formal wear."

"It depends on your definition of fun. Here, let me make it easier for you." She opened the robe and tossed it to the bed then came forward, put her arms slowly around Gabe, and kissed him at length. "You'd like to try something new with me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, love," he conceded.

"And not everything new we try has to be sexual, does it?"

"I suppose not."

She kissed him one more time, letting her naked body press closely into him. "Good. Because I've already bought tickets to the opera this weekend."

He couldn't help himself – a loud, pained groan escaped his lips. "You've got to be kidding me! That's such a cliché!"

"Maybe it is, darling, but it's what I want." She stepped back toward the closet area. "You can use your veto if you want to … but then you'd lose an opportunity to see me in the very sexy new dress I was just trying on." She reached into the closet and pulled out a sheer, wispy cocktail dress, stretching it in front of her body seductively.

Gabe leered appropriately. "I prefer what you're wearing now. Isn't that a bit racy for a stuffy opera house anyway?"

"It's designed to keep you awake and attentive," she explained. "And I think you'll be surprised at how not-stuffy this particular opera will be."

His face lit up. "They're doing Tommy?"

A throw pillow from the closet struck him squarely on the chest, prompting Gabe to duck and run even as they both laughed.

"You know," Gabe remarked as their cab closed the distance from the restaurant to the opera house, "you never did tell me what show we're going to see."

"No, I didn't," she agreed. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, my dear, we're getting close. You've tempted me with that delectable dress and softened my heart with steak and wine. I am fully resigned to an evening of voices screeching in Italian about God-knows-what."

"English."

"Excuse me?"

"The original was in German," she told him, "but this is an English translation. And I think you'll like it. It's all about obsession, lust and revenge."

"Oh, really?" he said, sneaking a finger inside the low front of her dress to trace the outline of her breast. "Now lust is something I can relate to right now."

"Clearly." She firmly removed his hand and set it on his lap. "But there will be time for that later. We're here."

The cab pulled up in front of the opera house and they got out. "Salome," Gabe read from the signage at the entrance. "An opera from the Bible?"

"Adapted from it, anyway. Just you wait and see, my dear. I think you'll be captivated."

An usher took them to their seats, which were in the sixth row house left. Gabe leafed through his program and read the brief synopsis. "Holy crap – I don't see anything about vikings or fat ladies."

"Of course not. Would I drag you to something I didn't think you'd enjoy?"

"You might," he countered, "just to watch me squirm."

"You'll squirm," she promised. "Trust me."

The house lights dimmed and the orchestra began to play. The music captured Gabe's attention quickly, alternating as it did between brooding and frenetic. The stage lights came up to reveal the opening scene, a banquet hall filled with revelers. From afar, a young man sang of the charms of Princess Salome. The spotlight picked out a young brunette and Gabe's interest perked up. "She's hot."

"Shhh!" Abbe whispered. "The dress code may have relaxed a bit but talking is still frowned upon, love."

So he watched in silence as Salome crossed to the terrace where her admirer stood and the next scene played out. When Salome began using her seductive voice and body to tease the admirer into bring the prisoner forth, Gabe found himself fascinated by the actress's brazenly sexual body language. "She reminds me of you, a little," he whispered. "When you want something, that is."

She swatted him with her program, but the gleam in her eye told him he'd scored a point or two. He watched again as Salome's attentions turned from the young guard to the prisoner Jochanaan. As the seductive Salome offered herself to the captive prophet, singing of his pale skin and black hair, Gabe found his left hand idly stroking Abbe's thigh.

The guard, distraught at Salome's obsession with the prisoner, killed himself. Abbe cocked her head toward Gabe and winked. "See? It never pays to lose your head over a woman," she whispered.

"I want to jump your bones," he replied quietly. "Is there a coat room here?"

"Patience, love."

Having rebuffed Salome, the prisoner was taken back to his cell and King Herod himself took center stage. The king's overt advances to Salome gave way to a theological discussion in song, and for the first time Gabe found himself noticing the time. "My butt's going numb," he complained quietly. "When's half time?"

"They call it 'intermission'," she told him. "And there isn't one; this is one long act."

"You're kidding!"

"Don't worry, love – there's a nice distraction coming."

Gabe felt suddenly disoriented as her hand reached into his lap. He heard her voice whispering into his ear but the words passed through his conscious mind without registering any meaning. By the time his head cleared the focus was back on Herod, who entreated Salome to dance for him. Even Gabe knew what was coming next and he felt himself shifting in his seat in anticipation.

Salome left the stage and returned draped and prepared for the famous Dance of the Seven Veils. The music changed to something strongly Asian in flavor. Tamborines sounded in the background as Salome began her slow, rhythmic dance. Gabe found himself staring at the actress, watching her every sensuous move with growing fascination. As the first veil came off and floated away he felt his body respond with the beginnings of a hard-on. By the time the second veil hit the floor his arousal was patently obvious to anyone who happened to look his way.

"Interesting, isn't it?" Abbe teased quietly. "You know, it's common for Salome to wear a body stocking for this scene, but I read in a review that this actress opted not to. We should be able to tell pretty clearly from here, don't you think?"

Gabe didn't answer; he was distracted watching the fourth veil get peeled off. Tantalizing patches of skin were beginning to show, and Gabe found himself fighting the urge to stroke himself. His eyes remained glued to the actress, taking in every seductive move, every flash of creamy skin beneath the veils. Another veil came off and he choked off a moan that tried to creep out of his throat.

"Enjoying the dance, my love?"

He realized what had to be happening and wanted to glare at Abbe, but his eyes wouldn't move from Salome. The last two veils fluttered and swayed, alternately revealing and then hiding the actress's body in bits. His cock pressed hard against his pants as the sixth veil drifted to the stage floor and he felt a growing pressure at the base of his shaft. The last veil barely covered, giving him and the rest of the audience frequent glimpses of buttock, of breast, of groin. His body squirmed in the seat like a little boy in desperate need of a restroom break, arms gripping the arm rests hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The last veil was dropped and Gabe felt himself right on the brink, staring at the naked actress on stage. She lay herself at Herod's feet and as her hands stroked across herself Gabe's body applauded by releasing the climax he'd been holding back. He strained to keep quiet, to stifle the sounds his body wanted to make, and the more he thought about the prospect of being noticed the harder he came.

As the orgasm subsided he realized he'd been clenching his neck muscles. He willed them to relax and felt the sharp spasms of tightness as they let go, bringing on a momentary headache that even managed to distract him from the naked Salome on stage asking for Jochanaan's head.

The action on stage progressed from Herod trying to dissuade Salome to his conceding to her demand for the prophet's head. Gabe sat still, keenly aware of the sticky, damp sensation in his pants and glad that he'd worn absorbent cotton underwear.

In due time Salome was killed and the lights came up. Gabe applauded, making every effort not to look around to see if anyone was looking at him strangely. "I will get you for this, you know," he told Abbe.

She faked an innocent look. "For what? All I did was make sure you fully enjoyed the opera."

He grinned back. "Of course. So you'll understand completely when I ensure that you fully enjoy the cab ride home."

"Oh, my..."

 

 

 

May

The phone rang as Gabe and Abbe were cleaning up from dinner. He glanced at the caller ID display and hit the button to answer. "Hey, Bob! What's up?"

"Gabe," came the voice on the other end. "How are you and Abbe doing?"

"Still having fun, thanks. How about you guys?"

"Never better. Do you still remember how to play poker?"

He grinned. "I think it would come back to me pretty quickly if need be. Why?"

"I'm putting a game together, just for the hell of it. How's next Friday sound? Oh – that's assuming Abbe will let you borrow your balls for the evening."

"Cute, Bob." His eye fell on Abbe, who was starting the dishwasher. "How about if I bring her along?"

"She play?"

"I have no idea," Gabe confessed.

Bob guffawed into the phone. "In other words, she'll probably take us all to the cleaners! Okay, sure. It'll make things more interesting."

"Yes," he said, still gazing at Abbe, "I think it very well could."

"Next Friday at seven, okay?"

"It's a date."

Abbe waited for him to hang up the phone. "I know that look you're giving me, my love. You're plotting something."

"I'm stunned – stunned, I tell you – that you'd accuse me of such a thing!"

"Which is not a denial," she pointed out.

"I was just wondering whether you've ever played poker."

"Does video poker count?"

"Nope -- I mean with real cards against real people, for money."

"Then that would be a no."

Gabe let a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Oh really? Then I think I know what our May resolution activity will be, next Friday night at Bob and Helen's."

Abbe groaned. "And you said the opera was a cliché!"

"It was, darling. But I'll admit you did exercise a devious creativity once we got there."

"Thank you. I take it you have something similar in mind to spice up this poker game."

"I'm still thinking about that part," he admitted. "There are so many possibilities."

"Then while you're thinking, let me state for the record that I have no interest whatsoever in seeing your friend Bob unclothed."

He laughed. "Same here. But now that you mention it ..."

Abbe sighed and braced herself.

 

Gabe parked the car in front of Bob's house and killed the engine. "Last chance to use your veto."

"Don't imagine I'm not tempted," Abbe responded, "but the way this thing of ours is trending, I can't help but think that I'll probably want it even more later."

"Down." He watched her drop instantly into trance and paused for a moment to admire the way she looked. "Here are your instructions, Abbe..."

He spoke quickly but clearly, giving her the suggestions he'd been planning since the night of the invitation. She nodded periodically to signal her understanding. "Good," he said at the end. "And now, I just want to make sure. Are you willing, consciously or unconsciously, to carry out these suggestions? Will you feel uncomfortable doing it?"

"I might," she replied slowly, "but I want to do it. Part of me thinks it would be kind of exciting even though part of me is nervous about it."

"I hope you'll like it, honey. I want you to remember, though, that if at any time you decide it's gone far enough you can safeword and the game will end. Safewording is not the same as using your veto, so you can feel free to safeword without giving up anything. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Gabe. Thank you for understanding."

He kissed her hand and then leaned over to kiss her lips. "You're welcome, darling. Now, when I let go of your hand you come out of trance immediately. Your conscious mind can, until the evening is over, forget that this trance ever took place so that you will be as surprised as everyone else when the suggestions take affect."

Her eyes fluttered open and focused on his face. "Ready to lose your shirt to a noob?"

"We'll see about that, my love."

 

They rang the bell and were greeted immediately by Bob, a jovial guy in his mid forties. "Come," he bid them, "grab some food and a drink and we'll get started."
Gabe looked around. "Where are the little ones?"

"Not home," Bob assured him. "We can cuss, tell dirty jokes, and be as otherwise generally depraved as we like, for the little angels are spending the night with Aunt Peg."

"That's right," said another man on the sofa. "By now my better half has already begun spoiling them with Disney videos and ice cream."

"The poor girls!" Bob grinned and introduced the rest of the crowd. "You probably remember Larry," he said, indicating the man on the couch. "The guy haunting the bar is our neighbor Steve, and the distinguished-looking gent in the corner is Walt, an old buddy of mine. Gang, this is Gabe and his lady Abbe, who is probably a card shark."

"Well," Steve joked, "she's certainly got nothing up her sleeve." He eyed her form-fitting red tank and jeans with frank appreciation.

Bob's wife Helen, a pretty brunette in a blouse and skirt, emerged from the kitchen with a vegetable and dip tray. "I know you guys will ignore this," she remarked as she set it on the sideboard, "but at least Abbe and I have something reasonably healthy to snack on."

"We will bond over celery sticks," Abbe promised. "At least, until we eliminate the guys from the table."

"Not a chance," Steve crowed. "I put the ‘stud' in 5-card stud."

"In that case," Bob said, "it's a good thing the game tonight is Texas Hold 'em."

"Strip Hold ‘em?" he asked hopefully, eyeing Abbe's cleavage again.

Helen cleared her throat pointedly. "You do realize, Steve, that her boyfriend is right here with us? And that he's a hypnotist?"

"Oh, shit. You're not gonna send me home clucking like a chicken, are ya?"

Gabe pretended to think about it. "Let's see what kind of mood I'm in when the game is over."

The group took seats and settled down to play. Each player – Gabe, Abbe, Bob, Steve, Larry, and Walt – anted up 50 dollars for a stack of chips. Helen explained the house rules. "Your 50 dollars is all you get for the night. When you run out of chips you are eliminated; you can take over as dealer if you want, or just watch from the sides. The blinds start at one and two dollars and will go up each time a player is eliminated. The top three finishers get to split the buy-in money: 50 dollars for third place, 100 for second, and the rest to the winner. Are there any questions?"

The game started slowly. Bob, Walt, and Larry knew each other well enough to avoid early mistakes but played conservatively against Gabe, Abbe, and Steve, feeling them out to learn their patterns. Abbe took a rapid dislike to Steve. Part of it was the way he kept staring at her chest, though in truth she'd worn that clingy top with the keyhole cut-out and spaghetti straps with the idea of distracting the men a bit. More than that, though, his playing style was aggressive, bordering on foolhardy, and he won a lot of hands by raising too much and daring people to call him. More than once he had seemingly overextended himself only to be saved by a lucky card at the turn or the river.

Like that, she mused inwardly as Steve took the merest of glances at his new cards and tossed a five-dollar bet – more than twice the big blind – into the pot. Maybe he saw a pair of aces and needed no further thought, Abbe considered, but the suited ace/queen she held made that highly unlikely. He had to be bluffing.

She called, as did Larry. The flop came up ace/nine/six, with the low cards in hearts. Abbe had the high pair and was one heart away from a flush. She was ready to bet another two dollars but Steve went first, tossing in another five dollars and prompting Larry to fold. Seething, certain he had to be trying to bully everyone into folding, she called again.

The turn was a deuce of spades: no help for Abbe, and it was hard to imagine how it would help Steve unless it gave him a second pair. He felt her up again with his eyes, grinned broadly, and announced his bet: "Fifteen."

Fifteen dollars!? Abbe wanted to raise him, furious over such an obvious power play, but her better judgment prevailed. Another 15, on top of the 10 she'd already bet, was half her initial stack. There were enough ways that his hand could beat hers that it wasn't worth the risk. "Fold."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said as he raked in the chips. "Let's do it again real soon."

She muttered a vague obscenity to herself and resolved to let go of the anger. The way he's drinking, she told herself, he's got nowhere to go but down. She sipped her diet cola and vowed to wait for the right opening.

Whether it was the alcohol or just the law of averages was unclear, but Steve's fortunes did trend downward for a while after that. The rest of the table chipped away at his lead, with Bob taking a bit more of it than most. Abbe went through a long series of mediocre hands, playing more or less even, and watched Steve's stack shrink to about the same size as hers.

With a sense of growing frustration at her bad cards, she posted the big blind and peeked at her new hand: a pair of kings. That's more like it! She sat quietly while Gabe and Bob called and was surprised to see Steve only call rather than raise.

The flop came up queen/eight/five, which did nothing for Abbe directly but assured her of almost certainly having the high pair. Being careful not to look at Steve, she bet five dollars. Gabe and Bob both folded, leaving only Steve. He looked across the table and as far inside her top as he could, then met her eyes for just a brief moment. "Okay, darlin'," he said. "I'll play with you." He dropped five dollars into the pot.

The turn was a king, giving Abbe three of them, and she knew this was her hand to win. If Steve had anything at all, she reasoned, it would be two pair and her kings would beat that. A flush wasn't possible with the cards shown, so the biggest risks were either a full house or a straight draw. She considered carefully and then announced her bet: "I'll bet fifteen."

Steve whistled softly. "Best be careful, sweetie, or you'll be dealing real soon."

She flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Thanks, Steve, but you don't seem to be doing any better than I am lately. Perhaps you should take your own advice."

"I'll be here for a while yet," he said smoothly. "You can get me a fresh drink now and then while you watch from the sidelines."

Abbe bristled at the raw arrogance of the man. "If I get busted before you," she pledged, "I'll serve drinks to the entire table for the rest of the night – and I'll do it topless!"

Everything paused for a second; Abbe had surprised herself as much as everyone else. You'll do what?? Where the hell did that come from?

She felt Gabe touching her arm. "Honey, are you sure you want to --"

No, I'm not sure, she thought, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna give that smug jerk the satisfaction of backing down. "Yes," she assured him. "If Bob and Helen don't mind, anyway. It is your house."

Bob looked to Helen, who seemed to shrug just the slightest bit. "Well," he said slowly, "The kids aren't home, and the rest of us have either seen boobs before or own a pair. I guess it's okay."

Helen dealt the river card, which was another eight. Abbe had a full house now; only two possible hands could beat hers, and both involved Steve having a pair to begin with. If that were so, she reasoned, he'd have been more aggressive in the opening round. She had him beaten for sure. "All in," she announced, pushing her chips to the middle.

"Ho-lee," Steve said. "You must be eager to show us the goodies."

"Only one way to find out," she replied. "Are you game?"

He paused. "I may live to regret this, but you've got me where I can't back down now. Call." And he pushed his remaining chips toward the center.

Helen did a quick count. "You're a touch heavy," she told him, and passed back a single 5-dollar chip. "Abbe, show your cards."

Abbe's smile lit up the room. "Kings full of eights," she announced, turning over her pair of kings.

Steve winced and made rare eye contact with her. "I thought you probably had something good," he confessed, "but not that good. Lucky I had these." He turned over his cards to reveal a pair of eights and let his face change to a leering smirk. "I'll take a double bourbon and Coke, please. With a pretty red napkin on the side."

Abbe ran to the kitchen as the blood rushed to her face and neck. She stood over the sink for a minute, holding her head low, waiting for the dizziness to subside. A glass holding two fingers of a dark, strong-smelling liquid appeared at her elbow and she became aware of Helen standing beside her. "If you're going to do this, a little liquid courage might help. But you don't have to. Bob and I will back you up if you want to change your mind."

"I can't," Abbe explained, taking the glass and downing its contents. The booze left a trail of fire down her throat and then a growing patch of heat in her stomach. "Not in front of that raging ignoramus And then there's … well, Gabe and I have this thing, and I think … well, it's complicated."

Helen got an odd look on her face. "I think I understand. You take as long as you need, and if you change your mind – and I'm pretty sure you can if you really want to – the option is still there."

"Thanks."

Steve seemed as if he wanted to say something when Helen returned, but withering looks from every other player at the table silenced him. Helen shuffled the deck and began to deal. "The blinds are now two and four dollars," she announced. "Since Abbe is out, the button moves to Gabe."

Gabe and Bob posted the blinds and everyone checked their cards. Steve mustered the gumption for a dry clearing of his throat and called.

In the kitchen, Abbe heard the noise and knew he was trying to get her goat. Fuck him, she thought. The bourbon wasn't kicking in yet but she peeled off her top anyway, draped it over her left arm for show, and headed for the bar with her head held high. There she fixed a double bourbon and coke, deliberately going heavy on the bourbon to make it sting, and placed it on the table next to Steve with all the aplomb she could muster. He practically drooled at the sight of her bare breasts, following them with his head as she checked to see if anyone else wanted a drink. No one did just yet, so she pulled her chair away from the table a bit and sat next to Gabe, draping her top over his neck like a thin scarf. "My lady has given me her favor," he joked. "I must fight valiantly this day."

Steve wasn't the only one taking in the view, Abbe noticed. Both Bob and Larry made a serious show of studying their cards, but their eyes kept flitting across the table to her chest. They are guys, after all, she told herself. She and Helen exchanged a covert wink at the men's antics.

As the game progressed Abbe found herself feeling increasingly bold. She joked with the men, enjoying the way they looked at her chest while trying so hard not to be caught doing it. A low level of arousal took hold of her and sustained itself with every movement of her body and every not-quite-covert peek she detected.

The show also seemed to have an effect on the concentration of the players. Bob and Larry, who were right across from her and had her breasts in their peripheral vision full time, made tactical blunders and saw their chip stacks steadily shrink. Steve also seemed to have trouble focusing, though his view was slightly obstructed. Gabe and Walt, who sat on either side of Abbe and had to turn their heads to see her, did better and gained funds at the others' expense.

Twenty minutes after Abbe appeared topless, Larry went all in against Gabe with three queens. Gabe showed a club flush and Larry was busted. "I could blame the environment," he joked, "but somehow I don't really mind."

"I'll tell Peg you said that," Bob joked.

"In that case, maybe I'd better deal for a while. Prove that I can sustain higher brain functions in the face of … well, distractions."

"You do that." Helen handed him the cards and headed off toward the bathroom.

Larry raised the blinds to three and six dollars and the game continued. During the first round of betting Helen reappeared in a pair of denim shorts, her shoes, and nothing else. Everyone at the table stopped and did a double take as she took a seat to Bob's left. "Female solidarity," she said with a nod to Abbe. "Nobody minds if I sit here, do they?"

There were, of course, no objections. Abbe realized quickly that Helen had chosen her spot perfectly: she was clearly and constantly on display to Steve, Walt, and Gabe while out of direct view of Bob and dealer Larry. Sure enough, the tide of the game began to turn in Bob's favor. Steve, with two pairs of breasts in his field of vision, seemed even more distracted. Simple decisions, like whether to fold or call, took him longer. The next good-sized pot came down between Steve and Gabe, and on an impulse Abbe waited for Gabe to bet and then quietly began pinching her nipple. Steve vapor locked and had to be prompted by Larry to act; he hastily called and then paid for it when Gabe's triple nines beat his two pair. Helen gave Abbe an I-saw-that look and the two shared a sly smile. On Steve's next important action Helen stretched, arching her back and causing her breasts to jut forward, and Bob benefited from the result.

Things were getting dire for Steve. With under 20 dollars left and a 6-dollar big blind coming due next hand, he needed to make something happen soon. He checked his cards: king and jack of clubs. Not a great hand, but maybe good enough. "Call."

The flop showed king of hearts, nine of clubs, five of spades. A movement caught his eye and he looked to see Abbe standing up, her pert breasts standing proud and pointing in his direction. Focus, Steve! He had high pair and most of a flush. With a little luck... Abbe turned and walked to the bar. Nice ass, too.

Larry prompted him. "Steve? Five to you."

He tore his eyes away from Abbe's behind and tossed a precious five-dollar chip into the pot.

Abbe brought a drink to Helen and stood behind her, both of them presenting their breasts in Steve's direction. The turn was a black six. Gabe checked, Bob bet five, and Steve sat there watching a drop of cold water drip off the glass and land on Helen's pale breast. "Ouch, that's cold!"

"Here, I've got it." Abbe reached out with a finger and wiped the drop from Helen's breast, then caressed the spot for a moment to warm it up. Larry's mind filled with thoughts of the two of them in a lesbian embrace and his cock swelled. He imagined them kissing, sucking, licking each other …

"Ten to you, Steve."

With a start he took a hasty look around the table, counted the clubs, and came up with four. He was one shy of his flush; that wasn't asking a lot of luck, was it? "All in." Then, as he pushed his chips to the middle, he got a second look at the black six -- a spade, not a club -- and knew he was doomed. "Aw, fuck me!"

Five heads turned at once. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I, umm, may have miscalculated."

"We'll find out," Larry responded. "Gabe calls, Bob calls. The river is … ace of hearts."

Steve knew he had to be beaten. A pair of kings couldn't possibly be the best hand. Bob and Gabe checked, and it was time to reveal their cards. Gabe showed king/nine for two pair and Bob showed nine/six for two pair. For the river Larry turned up the last nine, giving Gabe the better full house for the win.

Larry offered Steve his spot, but the neighbor declined. "Much as I appreciate the opportunity to hang around these fine-looking ladies a bit longer," he said, "I think I'd best go home before I get myself in any more trouble."

The group did a fine job of pretending to be disappointed at Steve's departure until he had actually left. Then Larry growled a little. "Lazy sumbitch just didn't want to deal, I'll bet."

"Tell you what," Abbe offered. "Since I skipped my turn, how about if I spell you now?"

"Fine with me." Larry handed her the deck and took a seat by the bar, and Abbe stood up to face the three remaining players.

"I'm doomed," Walt groaned.

Abbe refrained from actively seeking to distract anyone but the steady buzz of arousal continued even as she focused her mind on the game. Being at the center of attention, topless, and observing the power she still had over all three men as a result was exhilarating. From the glances she exchanged with Helen she could sense that it was the same for her. Her eyes fell on Gabe and she mentally licked her lips. You are SO mine when we get out of here!

Gabe saw the signs of Abbe's arousal and found his concentration failing. He misjudged a couple of hands and allowed Bob to catch up to him. When Walt went bust the two remaining players were at near equal funds. "Tell you what," he proposed. "You and I could sit here and play for another hour trying to bust each other out, or we could shake hands, call it a draw, and turn in while the night is young. I know which option sounds better to me right now. What do you say?"

Bob grinned and the girls laughed, causing their breasts to jiggle in a way that made Bob's answer inevitable. "I say well played," he replied. "To all of us. Let's split the winnings and call it a night."

Gabe accepted his half of the cash, peeled off two twenties and handed them to Abbe. "You earned this," he told her, "though I'm not sure where you'll put it."

She flicked the folded bills across her stiff nipple a few times for affect. "I still have pants pockets, my dear."

Abbe was almost reluctant to put her top back on, but she wasn't feeling quite bold enough to walk outside without it. They said goodnight to Bob and Helen and headed to the car. Gabe moved to open the passenger door for her and found himself pinned against the car as Abbe ground her body into his, kissing him and groping him openly. "Do you have any idea how much I want to jump you right now?"

"I'm guessing about as much as I want you to. Ten minutes and we'll be home."

"Step on it!"

Gabe got behind the wheel and buckled in. "Oh – by the way..." He reached over and touched Abbe in the middle of the forehead. "Remember."

Her mind spun for a moment and she heard Gabe's voice echoing in her mind. During the game tonight, you will contrive an excuse to take your top off. It will be your choice exactly what that excuse is and for how long you stay that way, but you'll find being topless in safe company to be arousing and liberating. "You deve," she said. "And what if I'd safeworded on you?"

He grinned. "But you didn't."

The car came to a four-way stop and she looked around at the neighborhood. "Nobody's out."

"It is pretty quiet."

He started to go but hit the brakes when he saw Abbe peel off her top and toss it into the back seat. "What are you doing?"

"It's a warm night and I'm feeling adventurous."

"Somebody could see!"

"You're right," she countered, feeling a tiny rush at the idea that some teenager or old man might walk by and catch a glimpse of her. "It's kind of exciting. Arousing and liberating."

"It's also distracting, honey. If I wreck the car we'll have a lot of explaining to do."

An impish desire seized Abbe. She reached for Gabe's crotch and closed her hand around his half-hard cock. "Then focus your mind on your driving and get us home safely. While your mind concentrates on driving your body can become more and more aroused the closer we get to home."

"That was evil!" But his eyes locked on the road and the car moved forward.

"Think of it as motivation, my love."

Just a few miles, Gabe told himself as he felt his cock stiffen. Hold it together. But as he drove he found it surprisingly easy to stay focused on the road. He was aware of his body wanting to squirm and the need to adjust his posture to accommodate a full hard-on but his mind felt detached, almost clinical, about it. It was interesting from a professional standpoint.

His body nearly jumped out of the seat when he parked the car in their driveway. Abbe picked up her top but just held it in hand, covering her breasts with an arm long enough to exit the car and follow Gabe to the door. His hands quivered enough to make it difficult to handle the keys so she helped to steady him and together they opened the door and stepped through.

Abbe dropped the red cloth and turned to face Gave, walking backwards into the living room and fondling her breasts in front of his hungry eyes. Raw, untempered desire flooded his mind and he want right for her, yanking his shirt off on the way. He grabbed her in his arms and bore her down onto the couch, landing on top of her and immediately setting his mouth to work sucking on her nipples. She moaned and squirmed under him, reaching for his pants to shove them down but unable to quite reach and soon, thanks to his eager sucking and licking, losing focus on everything except the pleasure and arousal she felt from his touch.

He listened to her moan and felt what she was trying to do, and on the animal level it seemed like a good idea. He quickly dropped his pants and underwear, freeing his hard and eager cock. His kisses moved down her belly and his hands found the waist of her jeans long enough to jerk them down and off, taking her panties along for the ride. She glistened even in the semi dark and welcomed his face with the scent of arousal and desire. His tongue probed her center, spreading the moisture around and sending her into spasms almost immediately. She was coming already from the sounds of her, and part of him wanted to stay right there and keep her in bliss until her body wore out, but he had an urgent need of his own to attend to. He spread her legs wider and positioned himself between them, spreading some of her moisture onto his shaft, and plunged himself home.

Abbe, in mid climax, felt him enter her and squealed with delight. Her muscles closed down on him and she felt him thrust harder, faster, deeper, over and over, knowing he couldn't possibly last long. He didn't – it was only a few seconds before the hot gushing sensation filled her and his mouth let out that long, loud groan that always marked his best orgasms. He pumped until the strength left him and then flopped on top of her, not even moving to decouple first.

They lay there for untold minutes until their breathing slowed to normal. Abbe was the first to speak. "Gabe, honey?"

"You'd like me to get up now, wouldn't you?"

"Not that so much, no," she said. "But would you mind closing the front door?"

 

 

June

Gabe returned from the kitchen and topped off Abbe's wine glass as well as his own.

"Hmmm," she mused, teasing him. "Chicken marsala, zucchini, and an extra helping of this very nice wine. Are we celebrating something, or are you just looking to get lucky tonight?"

"It's a Wednesday and you're home before eight o'clock," he replied. "That alone is cause to celebrate, and proof that I've already gotten lucky."

"Good answer – part snarky, part sweet."

He shrugged. "I try, my love. But of course we both know that tonight is a special occasion, don't we?"

"We do," she agreed, smiling, and lifted her glass. "To the start of our second year together."

"And many more to come."

They clinked glasses and sipped. "I have to say," Abbe remarked, "you are the first man I've been with who could cook. I never realized how very sexy that can be."

"Thank you, darling. Is that why you've been spending so much time at the gym lately?"

"Not all that much, really."

Gabe cleared his throat. "Three nights a week, from right after work until about 7:30, since last month. If I didn't trust you so much I'd have grave suspicions, my dear."

Abbe blushed. "You noticed."

"I'd be pretty obtuse not to, honey. Want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing, really," she assured him. "It's just that, well, that poker night, when I was sitting there topless, I noticed that I've gotten a little soft in the middle. Summer is coming, and I don't want to dread putting on a bikini. Okay?"

"That's all? Seems like an awful extreme response to a slight problem if you ask me. Have you --"

His question was lost when Abbe came around the table and covered his mouth for a long, deep kiss. He responded slowly at first, surprised at the sudden passion in her touch. Then her hand closed over his penis and his face went blank. "My explanation makes complete sense to you," she said quietly. "You believe it without question and you are absolutely okay with me spending as much time at the gym as I want. Your conscious mind remains unaware that I've given you these instructions."

Gabe, not consciously realizing there'd been any break in the kiss, came up for air. "You know, honey, I can think of a good way to burn off some of the calories from dinner."

She hiked up her dress and straddled him, letting her groin press into his until she could feel him beginning to stir beneath her. "Can you now?"

His hands reached around to cup her buttocks. "Some high-impact aerobics, perhaps? Just the thing to get the blood pumping."

"Pumping," she said, grinding herself against him and feeling his hard-on starting to form. "I like the sound of that."

"So do I." His right hand moved upward and his thumb touched the center of her forehead. Abbe's eyes took on a far away look as he traced slow circles just above the bridge of her nose. "In fact, you can feel your body responding to me now, getting increasingly aroused the more we touch. Feel your heart speeding up, your breath coming faster and deeper, your blood rushing to those places where it feels so very good, so hot, so arousing. Your body knows what it wants, knows how good it can feel, and can eagerly and easily work its way to orgasm as quickly as it likes."

Her body redoubled its energetic thrusting and grinding and she kissed him again, pressing her lips hard against his and probing him with her tongue. Gabe felt his cock hardening and let her keep thrusting, enjoying the physical contact but aroused even more by the obvious and uncontrolled passion she was feeling. Abbe offered no resistance at all when he unzipped her dress and lifted it off her; instead she responded by grabbing his shirt, yanking it over his head and throwing it into the living room.

She pulled his head to her breast and held him there. Gabe licked and kissed her nipple and her pace increased along with the energy of her thrusts. Her arms wrapped around him, her nails dug into his back and her moans turned into loud, gasping cries as the first orgasm hit her. He felt her body clench against his and thought holy shit, this is a good one! and held on to her, waiting for her rhythm to slow.

Instead, though, it quickened. Her body continued to thrust against his and her cries got louder and sharper. Gabe's awareness suddenly shifted to his cock, where the rhythmic thrusting and grinding had him further along than he'd realized. He bit his lip, clenched his fist, searched for the unsexiest thoughts he could come up with, but Abbe's voice in his ears and her body humping his was too much. He felt the pressure flooding through his groin and try as he might there was no stopping it. He clenched and held it until his will gave out and with a loud groan he came hard into his cotton briefs.

When his head cleared Abbe was collapsed on top of him, panting. A thin layer of sweat covered her entire body. "You're right," she breathed into his ear. "That was a hell of a workout."

"Oh, yes."

Slowly and carefully she stood up and saw that his pants were damp where she'd been rubbing herself against him. Her panties were soaked. "Not very satisfying for you, though, I suppose."

He looked up at her nearly naked form and smiled. "I think I'm good for a bit."

She giggled and took his hand. "Join me for a shower?"

"I'd be delighted."

Hot water cascaded over their bodies as they embraced and kissed. Abbe applied body wash to a mesh bath sponge and scrubbed in circles over Gabe's chest, working down toward his belly. She switched the sponge to her other hand and slid it around to his back, drawing him in, and then let her soapy right hand close around his cock. His face went blank.

"Good," she told him as she stroked him slowly and seductively. "Now, my dear, just a couple of final questions..."

 

Two weeks later on a Thursday night Gabe and Abbe sat at a small table in the back of a crowded club. "Interesting place," he remarked. "Do you come here often?"

"No, honey," she assured him, "it's my first time, too."

A waitress appeared with their dinner: a thick burger for Gabe and a grilled chicken sandwich for Abbe. An overflowing basket of fries sat halfway between them for sharing. "Are you ready for more beers?" the waitress asked.

Gabe nodded with a nervous smile and the waitress left for the bar. Abbe couldn't help chuckling. "It's okay to look at her chest, my dear. They sort of encourage that here."

"Is that why she's not wearing a top? I thought maybe it was laundry day."

The waitress reappeared with two more bottles. "Here you go. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Is Heidi here yet?" Abbe asked.

"I'm not sure," the waitress answered. "Probably. Are you here for the Amateur Showcase?"

"Oh, no, not me. We have an arrangement for after."

The waitress looked at Abbe again and a knowing smile appeared on her face. "I get it. I'll let her know you're here." She made eye contact with Gabe as she added, "Enjoy the show."

Gabe cleared his throat. "Now why do I get the feeling that I'm being set up for something?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, my love. Just because we're both in a strip club for the first time and it happens to be my turn to pick our monthly venture doesn't necessarily mean I have a nefarious plot in mind, does it?"

"I suppose not," he conceded, "in the same way that thick, dark clouds overhead don't necessarily mean it's going to rain. Then again, if this was your idea for our June activity we'd have discussed it first and I'd have had a chance to use my veto."

"Exactly."

Something stirred in the back of his mind. "Wait a minute …" Her sly smile confirmed what his inner voice was telling him. "You sneaky mynx! I did agree to this at some point, but the memory is hidden. I'm not entirely sure that's fair."

"Oh, really?" She gave him an I-caught-you look. "Then I suppose it's merely a coincidence that I seem to have a mysterious aversion to making any kind of plans for the Fourth of July weekend."

"Ah. Okay, point taken."

Lights flooded the stage and a deep, delicious female voice sounded over the DJ's speaker system. "Good evening, and welcome to the Tudor Club's Amateur Showcase. Each of the girls you're about to see on this stage is dancing for the first time in front of an audience. They picked their own music and designed their own costumes and routines, so they've all worked very hard on this. Whether you're a regular customer or you're here tonight to support your girl, please be generous with your applause and make the dancers feel welcome. Now, give it up for our first lady of the showcase, Angelina!"

A busty Latino woman strutted onto the stage in something vaguely resembling a nurse's uniform, though Gabe was hard pressed to imagine any nurse finishing a shift in spiked heels and fishnets. She danced to "Sexual Healing" and earned whoops and cheers from a table near the stage lip and general applause from the crowd.

Next came Chloe, a thin and elegant-looking redhead who worked the pole to the Tijuana Brass cover of "Love Potion #9" and earned Gabe's attention. He found himself imagining Abbe in her place, stripping slowly and showing herself off. But Abbe remained at his side, deflating the fantasy a bit.

The next girl, Tammy, brought energy and a touch of naughtiness to the stage. Dancing to a fast-moving hard rock tune, she started in a black leather harness that came off in pieces. Once she was down to a tiny thong she produced a flogger from the stage floor and smacked herself across the buttocks and back hard enough for the audience to see red marks.

"Now that's hot," Abbe remarked quietly. Gabe found himself nodding and wondering whether Tammy's lover had red marks.

A half-dozen more women came and went, each dancing for the length of her chosen song. They showed varying degrees of skill but uniformly high enthusiasm. All but a few at least bared their breasts for the audience's enjoyment, and a couple kept only their shoes at the end. Regardless, the knowledge that these were ordinary women, not professional strippers, made their acts more daring in Gabe's eyes. He wondered what Abbe had in mind and felt his cock stirring at the possibilities.

The showcase ended and the club's regular dancers rejoined the crowd, selling lap dances and socializing with the men and women at tables. A striking lady with salt-and-pepper hair approached their table and went straight for Abbe. "What did you think?"

"They were great!"

"You'd have been great, too, you know."

Abbe blushed just a little and ran her fingers through Gabe's hair. "I think I'll stick to small audiences, thanks."

"Pity." The woman shrugged and then acknowledged Gabe. "This is the lucky guy, then?"

"He has no idea," she confirmed. "Gabe, say hello to Heidi."

"Hello, Heidi." He stood and offered his hand, but instead of shaking it Heidi grasped it and began to walk away with him.

"Come with me, sugar," she said as he stumbled behind, turning his head just long enough to make sure Abbe was following.

Heidi led him into a back room with more subdued lighting and a quieter atmosphere. Upholstered easy chairs, sofas, and card chairs seemed thrown about almost at random, but the tiny ceiling spotlights that shone down on them proved there was nothing random about the arrangement. They arrived at a black leather armchair in a far corner of the room. A round side table held a bottle wrapped in cloth and three champagne flutes.

Gabe sat in the chair while Abbe perched on the left arm. Heidi popped the cork on the bottle and poured out two full glasses of champagne for Abbe and Gabe, then a small one for herself. "Drink up," she urged them. "It'll help keep you nice and relaxed."

Gabe stammered a little. "I'm not sure I --"

He stopped when Abbe slipped a hand into his lap. "Pay close attention to Heidi," she told him, "and do everything she tells you."

He drained the glass in a few long pulls, watching Heidi closely as he did. Details he hadn't noticed before caught his attention, like the way her black leather top was held together by a single zipper with a large pull ring that matched her earrings and the way her skirt seemed ready to fall open when she moved her leg a certain way. And the way she kept looking into his eyes. As if she means to seduce me, he thought.

"I like a man that knows when to do what he's told," Heidi remarked, having a seat on the other chair arm and letting her skirt slide open to reveal plenty of smooth thigh. "Now, since this is your first lap dance, let me tell you the house rules. The big one is that I can touch you wherever and however I like, but you don't touch me. Put your hands in those little loops on the sides and keep them there until we're done. If either of your hands comes out, the dance is over."

Gabe felt around the chair, found the cloth straps sewn into place on either side, and slipped his hands into them as instructed.

Heidi stood up and moved in front of him a few feet away, flipped her hair behind her shoulders and let her hips sway in time to the music. "Good. I decide how much you see and how closely you see it. There's nothing else you need to worry about, so just relax and enjoy."

Obediently Gabe relaxed and let his eyes linger on Heidi's hips. The skirt was short and slit high on the sides, so each movement made it swish and give quick glimpses of her upper thighs and a harder swing yielded a hint of bottom. Heidi turned several times, each turn bringing her a half step closer until she was standing right between his knees. With a quick movement she straddled him, her knees on his thighs, and leaned forward until her breasts were brushing his face through the leather top. Grinning seductively she inserted the zipper pull into his mouth and closed his lips around it. Then she slowly leaned back, allowing the zipper to open as she stood up again. The pull reached the end of its travel and Gabe's mouth released it as he caught sight of her bare chest beneath the now open top.

Heidi did not remove the top right away, though; she stood between his legs, swaying and bending, letting the top move freely to give him quick glimpses but no prolonged look. He found himself staring as she teased him and felt the beginnings of a hard-on forming even before Heidi undid something at the waist and let her skirt fall to the floor. She turned and gyrated between his legs, brushing his thighs deliberately. Each time she faced him she ran her hands through her hair, causing the top to open up and flash Gabe with full cleavage and a hint of nipple on each side. Then she stopped still. "Sorry, sugar," she said, lowering her arms. "My relief is here now." She bent down to pick up her skirt and winked at him. "Be good."

She moved off to the side and a new woman entered Gabe's space. His eyes feasted on a toned rump barely covered by a bright blue miniskirt that couldn't be more than six inches long, and as the new woman's hips swayed against his thighs his eyes rode up to see the strings from a matching halter join up in a single knot between her shoulder blades. Only then did he notice that the long, wavy hair cascading over those shoulders looked familiar. "Abbe?"

She peeked over her shoulder at him with a wicked grin and placed a hand over his groin. "Shhhhh!" she told him. "Just pay close attention to me and let your body react the way it wants to, but keep your hands right where they are."

She turned to face him and climbed onto his lap. The halter was so brief it could pass for a bikini top and the way the straps crossed in front lifted her breasts and formed a delightfully deep valley between them. Abbe planted his nose directly into that space, filling it with her personal scent, while her hips moved and pressed her groin against the now-obvious hard-on he was sporting. For a moment Gabe's mind flashed back to their anniversary night, when Abbe had ground against him the same way until he'd come.

Abbe was thinking of the same night. "That's right," she said, leaning back to make full eye contact, "feel me grinding against you, just like I did that night at home. And the more you feel me, the more I tease and taunt and arouse you, the more you can let go to those feelings."

She spun around, being careful not to put too much pressure on his hard cock, and draped herself over him, pulling his head down to her shoulder so that he was looking directly down over her chest. Every wriggle rubbed her ass against him and sent shivers through his body. "You want to touch me, I know," she continued. "You'd love nothing more than to slip your hands inside this top and play with my breasts … but you can't. Your hands have to stay right where they are. But mine don't." She slipped her own hands inside the halter and over her breasts. Gabe saw them squeezing and kneading. "That feels so good, darling. So very good."

Abbe leaned forward, reached behind herself and pulled the string, causing the tie to open and the spaghetti straps to fall away. She stretched back again, giving him enough of a look to note erect nipples, and then slid down his body to the floor. She turned again, her face inches away from the bulge in his pants, and tucked her halter into his pants pocket. "I'll bet I know what you'd really like," she teased. "It would be so easy for me to just open your zipper and take you in my mouth … but the club can't allow that. You'll just have to imagine it for yourself. Or perhaps," she continued, standing up slowly and turning away, "you can just enjoy this instead."

She bent over and swayed in a circular motion inside his legs, brushing her ass against his thighs and straining cock, and he felt his own hips flexing by themselves, pressing back. "Oh, he likes that! I wonder if a little visual help would make it even better." A quick flick at her left hip and the skirt came free, leaving only a microscopic thong for coverage. She watched him over her shoulder and ground into him some more, reveling in the look of pleasure and arousal on his face.

Another quick turn and she was straddling him again, her breasts in his face, the rhythm of her hips growing faster and more insistent. "It won't be long now," she assured him. "Just like before, my darling. Any moment now you're going to come and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing you can do to even slow it down. Feel the pressure building … rising … unstoppable … undeniable …"

As she spoke she increased her tempo, pressing a little harder, faster, more insistently. She felt him straining to hold it in, clenching his thighs, clenching his groin, and switched her motion to a straight pistoning move, lining up the bulge in his pants with her center and stroking.

Gabe felt the change and the sensation drove him over the edge. The muscles holding his seed gave out and he came hard enough to see stars. She tucked his face between her breasts to muffle the sounds and rode him until he stilled.

The sound of clapping broke their focus and caused both Gabe and Abbe to look around. Heidi, a broad-shouldered man in a shirt and tie, and several dancers were applauding. Abbe blushed, but her nipples stayed tight and firm as she realized there had been more of an audience to her performance than just Gabe and Heidi.

Heidi came forward and handed Abbe her skirt. "Nicely done, sweetie. A little more sexual than we'd normally allow, mind you, but I told Tony the story and he agreed to let you be."

"Thanks," Abbe said, still very aware that she was virtually naked in a room full of people. "I suppose I should go change."

"Unless you want to make some money," Heidi joked. "We've had four different customers ask about you already."

"Oh, Jesus!"

"It's fine," Heidi said. "Besides, you look like you could use a little 'me' time. Why don't you take your guy into the dressing room with you? I think you'll find the place pretty empty until the set ends."

The girls exchanged a quick hug, then Abbe led Gabe back to the dancers' dressing area. She could practically feel the eyes of the onlookers exploring her body as she moved. Thankfully, the dim light kept anyone from noticing how damp the thong had become.

Gabe took a quick look around, verified that they were the only ones in the room, and wrapped his arms around Abbe from behind. "You are incredible!" he told her, nibbling on her neck between words in that place that he knew would drive her insane. "I can't believe you did that!"

She turned to kiss him and he took advantage, lifting her by the bottom and carrying her over to the nearest makeup counter. He sat her down and kissed his way down her neck, over the collarbone, and down to her breasts. He flicked his tongue across her hard nipples and felt her hands grip his shoulders in response. He sucked harder until she couldn't stop moaning and grabbing his hair, then lowered himself to his knees and kissed his way down her belly. He could smell her arousal well before he grabbed the thong and yanked it off.

He tilted her back into the mirror and slipped her legs over his shoulders, then dove in to show Abbe his appreciation. His tongue lapped up her juices and spread them around, teasing and playing with every sensitive spot. Her clit danced with his tongue tip until she cried out and grabbed the counter for support, her legs clamping hard around his head. Gabe stayed with her, tonguing her over and over to keep her climaxing, pausing only enough to breathe here and there. Abbe came and came until her body gave out. Her legs lost their grip and her hands flailed weakly at his shoulder as she begged, "Mercy!"

They stayed that way for a minute, listening to each other breathe, until they heard the door open. Heidi's head appeared in the doorway. "You're gonna have a lot of company in about a minute," she warned. "Just saying."

Abbe squealed a quick "Thanks!" and hopped off the counter. Gabe washed his face quickly while she found the gym bag that held her street clothes and threw them on. Gabe was still straightening out the makeup counter where they'd knocked a half-dozen things over when a stream of mostly-naked dancers poured through the door. Several of them applauded Abbe and Gabe again or offered high fives, which the couple accepted with blushes and sheepish grins. They stumbled out as quickly as they could and made a bee line for the car.

Halfway home, Gabe could hold his questions no longer. "That was truly inspired," he told her. "What on earth made you think of it?"

"I told you, love. I noticed during that poker night that I was a little soft in the middle."

"So you said before."

"Yes. And I realized that the way things are trending there was likely to be more … exposure, if you will … in the near future. So while I'm sure you would never have mentioned that softness ..."

"Never even noticed it – and you can be sure I was certainly looking."

She smiled. "You're sweet. As I was saying, even though you would never have remarked on it, I felt a need to spend a little more time in the gym. And while I was there, I happened to meet Heidi."

"She works out at your gym?"

"Close – she works there. Teaching a regular class on pole and lap dancing, in fact. I tried a session on a whim. It was fun, and it was also a hard workout. So I signed up for the rest of the term and started plotting an appropriate way to mark my graduation."

"And a fine cummencement it was, darling."

Abbe groaned.

 

(to be continued...)