“Nicole, he…he means to…to…he wants to…”
“I know,” she said, “you…we…we lost and he…” She shuddered, didn’t finish her sentence. I don’t know what she wanted, intellectually, but it was obvious physically.
“But Nicole…”
“Please Jason, I…please, it…it’s okay.
“Hmmmm,” Richard growled.
“What…what are you going to do to me,” she looked at him.
Richard grinned. “I’m going to fuck you, Nicole, long and hard.”
“Jason…”
“He’s going to watch, Nicole, he’s going to watch every stroke, every second my cock’s inside you, so he remembers for the rest of your lives that your first time getting fucked as a married woman was by me, by a man. I want you him to remember this is his fault, his doing.”
Nicole was half panting, started to turn to him.
“Oh, not yet, Nicole, not yet. Tomorrow, like a bride on her wedding night, you’ll come to me tomorrow. I want you to think about it all night, dream about it, fantasize about it.”
“Please,” she begged, “please don’t make me wait.”
“Tomorrow, Nicole, tomorrow.”
**********
He walked us back to our cabin like we were, half naked, cuffed. I was barefoot, felt the hard path on my feet, while she had on heels. He teased us the entire way, telling me how cute my ass looked in tight panties, telling Nicole beautiful hers was, how he couldn’t wait to touch her again.
In the cabin, he ordered me to strip, forbid me to shower, her either. “Can he twice,” he asked Nicole as I peeled the wet panties off.
“Twice?”
“Can he do it twice in one night…I don’t want him trying to steal what’s mine tonight.”
“No,” she whispered, “he…he takes awhile to…to recover.”
“Ha,” Mr. Thompson laughed. “I assumed…typical…not that you’d want to.”
“Mr. Thompson,” I yelped.
“She doesn’t, sissy, should have done her last night, she’s certainly not thinking about you the rest of her honeymoon.” I looked at my bride, saw her blush, saw he was right. “Let’s get a pair of panties,” he said reaching for her lingerie bag.
“She’s wearing panties,” I said, just wanting him to leave.
“Ha,” he looked at me, “not for her, for you! You don’t deserve a man’s underwear, you let your wife get naked at strip poker, you lost money you don’t have, you let a stranger finger fuck her, and you fucking came watching it. You’re not the man here, Jason, you’ll do as I say.”
“Jesus, Mr. Thompson!”
“It…it’s okay,” Nicole said quietly, “he…he’ll…he’ll do it.”
“Nikki!”
“Jason, please…” She was looking at me, staring at my shriveled, spent penis, obviously comparing it to his. I didn’t now how big he was, only she did, but I was so small at the moment, an inch if lucky from the orgasm and cold, I was ashamed. “I have a pretty pink pair you can wear.”
“Nicole…”
“Get them,” he ordered and watched as she gracefully as she could half naked find the pair of panties and hand them to me. “On,” he growled at me.
“Please,” I begged, refusing to take them.
“Little boys with tiny penises who cum when a man strokes them don’t wear things men wear,” he said.
“Let…let me help,” Nicole said softly.
“Nicole,” I said in a quiet protest.
“Just for tonight,” she said kneeling down, helping me into the panties.
“Time for you two to get to bed,” he said once Nicole had the panties on me, “I want you both to get a good night’s sleep. Oh, where are you car keys, Jason?”
“My…my car keys?” I asked, looking over at the dresser where my keys and wallet were.
“Yep,” he said, scooping them up, “wouldn’t want you two wandering off in the middle of the night.”
He left us in bed, Nicole in just panties and her stockings, me in panties, too.
“Nicole, how…how could you,” I started to say as soon as I head the cabin door close.
“How could I?” she shot back, turning to me. “How could I?”
“You…you let him touch you?”
“I let him…” she stammered, “I let him? Jason, how could you bet money we don’t have? How could you lose over and over? How could you bet my clothes? And…and how could you…”
“I…I’m so sorry,” I felt like crying. “We…we don’t have to…we can…I don’t know…leave…”
“He took the car keys, Jason…”
“I can…”
“You can what? I think you’ve done enough, Jason…god…you got us into this mess, leave it to me to get us out.”
“But…but he wants to…”
“He’s going to, Jason, he made that clear. Don’t you think I know?”
“We…we don’t have to.”
“No, Jason, we do…I do…you made a bet, a bet I agreed with…we have to…we have to…”
“You…you want to,” I said as it dawned on me, “you…you were wet…”
“Don’t be all high and mighty, Jason…don’t forget, you were hard,” she said with a sneer, “you got hard watching a man touch me.”
“What are we going to do?” I asked foolishly.
“I’m going to pay your debt, Jason, that’s what we’re going to do.”
**********
We hiked in the morning as planned, but it was very different than the previous day, as we didn’t have much to say, were both lost in our own thoughts. Before lunch, Nicole suggested we turn back, eat our sandwiches while hiking back. “It’s early,” I protested, afraid to go back, afraid I wanted to go back.
“I know, hon, but I want to take a nap before I get ready.”
After we slept, we both showered, me first, then her, and I stayed in the bathroom, watching her carefully wash, shave her legs, trim between them. I handed her a towel when she got out of the shower, went for my suitcase. “Wait,” she said softly.
“What?” I turned to her.
“Can you…” she paused, blushed.
“Can I what?”
“Can…will you…”
“What, Nicole…will I what?”
She was blushing, full on blushing. “Just…don’t get dressed…stay…stay naked.”
“Nicole,” I said, always embarrassed to be fully naked around her when it was light; self conscious as usual.
“I…I thought…it…it seems…”
“It seems what?”
“I’m naked, you…you should be too.”
“I…” I looked down, more aware than usual that what was between my legs was small.
“It’s okay,” she said, all but acknowledging she knew what I felt.
I didn’t want her to keep talking, in fact, I didn’t want anything more to happen, so I stopped her, agreed.
“There’s a bag in my bag,” she said, pointing to her lingerie suitcase, “it has my…my wedding night stuff…you…you weren’t supposed to see it until, well…our wedding night.”
“I…Nicole…”
“I want you to help.”
“Help?”
“Help dress me,” she said looking down, shy, embarrassed.
“Help?”
“You can help,” she said, “get me ready…for him…”
There was something in her voice. “You want to?” I half accused her; she didn’t respond for a moment, looked at me, saw my penis twitch.
“I have to, Jason,” she said, not answering, “we have to.”
“We don’t…”
“We do…you bet…we do.”
“But you want to,” I said again.
“It doesn’t matter, Jason, you bet me, you lost…”
“Nicole,” my voice caught.
“Shhhh,” she said, moving me to the edge of the tub, next to her, while she sat at the vanity, did her hair then makeup, more than usu
al, somehow different, more beautiful. Her hair was down, but she’d woven a white flower and lace headband into her hair, like part of a vail. Like a bride on her wedding night.
“Dress me,” she turned to me when she was done.
“D…dress you?”
“Dress me for him, Jason.”
“But…but Nicole…”
“Get me ready for him,” she said, “you can’t…this isn’t…this has to be both of us…it’s the only way.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“You…you lost me in a poker game, Jason, you…I can’t…I can’t do this myself.”
“But you were wet…”
“But you lost, Jason, and you lost me.” My penis was semi-erect, obviously not flaccid, I saw her look, smile gently. “I’m his tonight, Jason, and you…you have to help, you have to give me to him.”
“Nicole…”
“You want me to, too,” she said, finally confirming what she wanted, making my penis jump, swell more. “The bag,” she pointed, “it…it was going to be for you, but now…”
“It’s for him,” I finished.
“You lost me,” she said, “yes, now it’s for him.”
Hands shaking, I opened the bag. “I don’t even know what…” I started to say.
She touched my hand again, gently, tenderly. “That first,” she pointed.
I took out a nude and white garter belt, exquisite, with a flower motif, nude tulle, totally feminine, even virginal. “Nicole,” I blushed, thinking for a moment she bought this to wear for me, knowing she was now going to wear it for him.
“Fasten it…around my waist,” she said.
Hands shaking, I carefully wrapped the garter belt around my bride’s waist, watched the garter straps fall and hang down her legs and over her ass. “Don’t touch,” she said softly.
“But…”
“I’m his tonight, remember,” she said as if I could forget.
Stockings were next, white, non-stretch nylon, sheer, old fashioned. As I pulled them up her leg, twice my penis touched her, both times she pulled her leg away, chastised me. “Careful,” she said.
Sheer panties went over her garters and my hands were shaking more as I knelt in front of her and pulled the panties up her legs. “Wait,” she said before I finished, reached over into the bag on the counter, took a bottle of perfume, and spritzed her wrists, neck, and between her legs.
Shoes were next, white, ankle strap heels. She sat, crossed her legs one at a time as I helped her into each heel.
Finally came a sheer white babydoll with satin underwire, padded demi cups that pushed up and emphasized her breasts, a satin ribbon sash with a bow broach, and a tiered lace hem.
“Oh my god,” I whispered seeing the finished product, seeing the most beautiful woman in the world looking more beautiful than ever, virginal, innocent. Seeing her how I was supposed to see her on our wedding night, but seeing her now getting ready to go to someone else.
“Am…am I pretty?” she asked shyly.
“Pretty…fuck…Nicole…”
“I…I wanted to look pretty on our wedding night.”
“Nicole,” I was shaking.
“Do…do you think he’ll be…pleased.”
“Fuck, Nicole,” I gasped.
“I…I’m scared.”
“Nicole…we don’t have to…”
“We do,” she touched my face, “we have to…we…he’s waiting.”
“Waiting? He’s here?”
She nodded. “Take me to him.”
“Naked?” Was she crazy?
She giggled. “No…sorry…” She looked over at her lingerie bag, there was something still in there, a pair of panties.
“Nicole!”
“Jason…he…he said…he wants…”
“He didn’t,” I insisted.
“He did,” she said.
“But…”
“Shhhh, please,” she said, a tone in her voice, begging.
“I…I can’t…please…”
“You have to,” Nicole said, “please, it…it will help…help me.”
“Nicole,” I stammered.
“Please, Jason, I…I don’t want him to…to change…his mind.”
She wanted it, wanted him. My bride wanted him to take her, to fuck her. I tried to rationalize, couldn’t, because I was erect, for some reason wanted it to. And if I didn’t know why I did, how could I know why she did.
“Nicole,” I looked down, “I…fine…fine.”
**********
Mr. Thompson was sitting in the living room in the middle of the couch. He was wearing what I thought of as dress work clothes—creased chinos, a checked shirt, heavy shoes. He held a rock glass in his hand, amber liquid, whiskey, had a shit grin on his face when we walked in.
“Well, well, well,” he said, “look at the two of you. Jason, you should have taken your bride on your wedding night when you had the chance; now she’s always going to judge her marital sex life based on tonight.”
“She,” I started to say, but he silenced me with a glare.
“Nicole…the perfect blushing bride. Nervous?”
“I…yes,” she said.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, “best thing I’ve ever won in a poker game.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Why are you nervous?”
Nicole swallowed, glanced at me, back at him. “I…I’ve never been with…anyone besides…besides Jason…”
He nodded. “He bet you in a poker game. Like you’re chattel. Like you’re a whore.”
“I’m not!”
“No, you’re obviously not, Nicole,” he said, “you’re a virtuous woman, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, almost defiant.
“A man protects his wife’s virtue, her chastity. He doesn’t treat it so superficially. That’s part of the reason he’s in panties, you know.”
“Part?” she swallowed.
“That and…well…” he snorted, “his size.”
“Mr. Thompson,” I begged.
“Turn around, Nicole,” he motioned with his fingers. She did, she obeyed. “You kind of grew into it, didn’t you?”
“W…what?” she asked.
“This beauty.”
“I…I guess.”
“Girls born into flaunt it, girls who grow into it are much more shy about it.”
“I’m nervous,” she whispered, “scared.”
“Most women are the first time with a man,” he smiled. “You agreed, though.”
“I…yes,” she nodded.
“Why?”
“He…we lost a bet…we…what choice…”
“I won’t take you against your will, Nicole…his…but not yours.”
“I know,” she whispered, looking down.
“You want to,” he said. I saw her face redden. “You want to,” he said again.
“Yes,” she said, barely audible.
“Women need a man like a dog needs a leash, like a horse needs a saddle, they need it, crave it, to submit…you married a beta, Nicole, a boy who let his wife find herself in this situation, a boy who can never lead.”
“I can,” I interrupted.
“Says the panty wearing sissy who’s going to watch his bride be ravaged by a man.”
“I…”
“Why are you standing, Nicole?”
“I…I don’t understand,” she said.
“Why are you standing? A bride belongs on her knees.” He spread his legs, and while Nicole’s face showed confusion, I understood at once what he meant.
“She…she doesn’t like that,” I protested.
“I don’t like what?” Nicole asked.
“Sucking cock,” he grinned; Nicole’s eyes went wide. “I assume she never gave you a blow job, Jason? I assume you’ve never cum in her mouth.”
“No, of course not,” I exclaimed. “I told you, she doesn’t like that!”
He grinned wider. “Wom
en don’t like to give blow jobs to beta wimps, Jason, it’s a power thing, a blow job makes a woman feel vulnerable, submissive—they suck cock, Jason, now a little penis.”
“But…”
“You’ve never sucked cock, Nicole?”
“N…no.”
“Why are you still standing?” he asked again.
She took a step forward, started to kneel before him. “Nicole,” I whispered, but a sharp glance from him silenced me. She looked over her shoulder, my beautiful bride, then turned back to him.
“I…I don’t know how,” she said softly.
“You do, Nicole, even innocent, blushing brides know how to suck cock, it’s just a skill deep inside you, not needed till now.”
She knew enough how to start, and as I stood there watching, she carefully reached for him, undid his belt, undid his pants, slowly, nervously, hesitantly, pulled him from his pants and underwear.
“Ohhh,” I gasped, heard her do the same, as his erection came free.
“It…it’s big,” she said, almost an understatement. And it was. Not grotesque, but solid, eight inches long; six inches in diameter; a thick, pronounced head; bulging veins filled with blood. I looked down, saw my own erection in my panties, half the length, half the diameter, felt ashamed, humiliated.
“Touch it, Nicole,” he said, staring at me, seeing in my eyes what I felt.
“Oh, god” she gasped again when her hands wrapped around it.
“Go ahead,” he nodded towards his cock.
“I…I don’t know if I can…”
“I don’t expect you to take it all the first time,” he grinned, “but I expect you to try.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out, instead I just stared as my beautiful, blushing bride lowered her head, opened her mouth. I saw her struggle with her feelings, saw her think of herself as a chaste wife, the slight hesitation, then surrender to her obvious desires. She paused when the thick head touched her lips, thought for a moment, then her tongue darted out, disappeared, came out again and licked the head.
“Good girl,” he said, reached out, touched her hair, “now go on.”
She opened her mouth, took the cock head between her lips, and I almost came in my panties. I struggled to stop myself from reaching down and stroking my penis as I watched her cheeks hollow, as I watched my innocent, young, wife suck a practical stranger’s cock. Mr. Thompson was right, she’d never done this to me, and I was wrong, she clearly liked it, doing it like this, the power exchange, the real man, the real cock. She started going down, stroking the bottom of his cock with her hand while taking more in her mouth.
Strip Poker Page 4