by Anwen Stiles
“You seem to be a popular guy,” Jasmine said after she finished her backstory. “I thought you’d be perfect to help organize a group of men who would be open-minded with this thing and could be trusted to behave themselves.”
“And you’re going to be the first club member to, er, go?”
“That’s right. I’m the test case.”
He slowly perused her form, his gaze pausing on her breasts, her flat stomach and long, shapely legs. “I don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding men who’d want to be with you.”
“You don’t mind, do you? That I’ve propositioned you? I mean, that I just want to have sex with you and your friends and I don’t really want to be your girlfriend?”
“Are the two mutually exclusive?”
She paused, thought for a moment. “I assumed they would be.”
“Never assume anything,” he said with a cryptic expression. “You can’t know what lurks inside a man.”
She raised her eyebrows, experienced a tiny jolt at his intensity, but ultimately didn’t appreciate the serious turn of the conversation. “So anyway, let’s not over-think this thing. Right now all we need is you and four discreet others to begin my fantasy. Is it possible, do you think?”
His expression cleared. “Yeah, I think so. I know some men who might fit the bill. Any particulars about who and what you want? What, exactly, is your fantasy?”
She glanced around the room, checking for the twentieth time to make sure no one was listening in. She looked at Geoff’s handsome face and began to explain the specifics of what she wanted for her first multi-partner experience.
When she finished, he eyed her lazily and gave her a sexy grin. He stood up and asked, “This weekend soon enough for you?”
She nodded.
He reached down and ran his thumb down her cheek and lightly over her bottom lip. “I’ll call you by Thursday evening to let you know the progress.”
She shivered under his touch, and more-so under the way he looked at her, the expectation in his dark eyes. “I’ll make all the other plans, rent the room and so on.”
“As you wish. Until then.” And without another word, he turned and left her sitting there.
She swallowed hard. She had done it. She had asked and Geoff had agreed to help make it happen for her. Geoff had always been hot, but something had happened in the last few minutes that made him blazingly hotter than before.
Desire. That was it. If she wasn’t mistaken, he wanted her more now than he had wanted her before.
Oh, that didn’t seem likely. Anyway, it didn’t matter. She wanted him for sex purposes only.
She mentally shook herself. Wow. A gangbang. Soon.
He’d better call her.
HE DID CALL HER, on Thursday, exactly as promised. She marveled at how much deeper his voice sounded over the phone than it did in person, delighting her so much that she nearly missed what he said, not that there was much of it to hear.
He said hello, then, “It’s all set up for Saturday night. There’ll be five of us. E-mail me the location and time. We’ll be there.”
“Okay, thanks, I —”
“See you then.” And he hung up.
She stared at her silent phone, her heart thumping in her chest, her breath shallow. It was on. It was going to happen.
A flutter passed from her clitoris through her belly. Two days.
Fantasy time.
Five men.
One woman.
Her.
Holy shit.
Chapter 3
JASMINE FIDGETED NERVOUSLY WHILE she waited in the living area of the large suite. She glanced around the place. Yes, everything was in order.
It was a lovely suite, with modern furnishings and a clean, chic look, well worth every penny she had spent to have it for the night. The money didn’t matter anyway. She was a successful woman with a good-paying career in pharmaceutical sales. No, money wasn’t an issue. It was more important that everything be right.
And it was; she’d spent several hours that day making certain of it. She looked over at the round table she had set up with all the paraphernalia the men would need to enact her fantasy. Everything was in place, she knew, as was everything in the kitchenette.
Jasmine smoothed back her hair, an unnecessary act since it was already in place, slick and shiny, pulled into a small, sleek brunette bun at the base of her head. She adjusted the neckline of her low-cut blouse, ensuring once more that the appropriate amount of cleavage was on display. There was no bra under the tight shirt.
She tugged at her shockingly short skirt. Yep, still short.
She checked the clock on the wall. Almost eight o’clock. Almost time. Her heart pounded and she felt shaky in her stilettos. Was that a noise she heard at the door?
Then the handle was turning and the door swung open. And the men walked into the suite.
The play had begun.
Jasmine smiled graciously at them and nodded her head in greeting. Geoff was looking extremely attractive in a dark suit with an open-collared shirt. She noted the twinkle in his eyes and the appreciative way he perused her figure.
Two other men were dressed in suits similar to Geoff, one man in his forties and one close in age to Geoff, both of them nice-looking and clean cut.
The other two men were younger. Jasmine guessed they were in their twenties. They wore faded denim and t-shirts and reminded her of young Internet entrepreneurs. Perhaps that was what they were going for. They were handsome and a little scruffy in an attractive way.
Her stomach tightened as she looked them over and they looked her over in turn. So many eyes, and already she sensed the welling of desire in the room, an almost tangible weight in the air that flowed between her and them.
One of the young men shut the door as Geoff waved a hand in her direction.
“This is Jasmine,” Geoff said. “She’ll be serving us tonight. Say hello to Jasmine, guys.”
The four men said hi, their voices a rumble that sent shivers up her back.
“Hi. I’m here for whatever you need,” she said, her voice breaking at first then steadying. “Drinks, snacks. Whatever you want. Just ask. I’ll deliver. The table is all set up if you want to have a seat. I’ll take your drink orders when you’re ready.” She finished in a rush, perhaps having over-rehearsed her little speech in the hours leading up to the big moment.
She stood back and the men filed past her to the felt-covered table. They found chairs and settled in, Geoff turning to Jasmine and asking for a scotch, neat. The other four men quickly added their orders and Jasmine swayed over to the bar, doing her best to remember everything.
While she worked, Geoff told the men the rules of the game.
“This is No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em,” Geoff said. “$100,000 buy-in. $300 and $600 blinds with $100 ante, as we’ve discussed. You lose it all, you can buy in for more of course. I, for one, am more than happy to take all the cash you want to drop here.”
Some good-natured ribbing followed.
Geoff opened a fresh pack of cards and began shuffling. “Since the dealer is a no-show, we’ll have to rotate the deal. Agreed?”
They agreed.
Jasmine heard the sounds of plastic poker chips being tossed onto the table. They were beginning the game. She finished their drinks by the time the first round of bets were placed.
She stood silently behind the bar for a moment, savoring the anticipation of the certain realization of one of her oldest fantasies.
When she was in college, she sometimes picked up extra cash on the weekends waitressing at a Native American casino outside of town. The best gigs were attending to the players in the private, poker cash-games. Tips from exultant, winning players could top hundreds of dollars an hour, if you were lucky enough to be chosen to work the rooms.
She stayed focused whenever she had the opportunity to serve the high stakes games, concentrating on avoiding mistakes since excellence would earn her more gigs in the private roo
ms. She didn’t stand around daydreaming about what might have gone down behind those secured, closed doors. Not back then, anyway.
Since she’d been reading erotic fantasies in The Ladies Naughty Book Club, she’d recalled those private poker games. And the next thing she knew, she was writing a whole new script for what might have happened to a lone waitress and a group of high-stakes gamblers, mostly wealthy businessmen and the occasional professional player. Oh, plenty. That’s what might have gone on. Plenty.
She’d certainly given herself plenty of pleasure over the months, enacting her fantasy in her mind, living and reliving the details. Oh yes, she’d had pleasure.
And now, here she was, ready to take that to a whole other level. She breathed deeply to steady her nerves, then she picked up her tray and headed over to the men.
Jasmine delivered the drinks, self-conscious of the men eyeing her as she slipped in next to them, one after another. When she set Geoff’s drink on the table, he absently said thanks and patted her on her ass as she turned away.
One of the younger men, whose name she soon learned was Kyle, smiled at Jasmine. “You’d better watch that guy, Jasmine. He’s a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.”
She returned his smile then sent a saucy look over her shoulder at Geoff. “Undoubtedly. But only if I complain about it. And I’m not the complaining type.”
“Is that so?” Geoff asked with raised eyebrows.
“That’s definitely so.”
“Well, fellows, this game just got more interesting.”
The men grinned at Jasmine. She told them she’d get their snacks then sashayed off to the kitchenette, assuming they were watching the swing of her hips as she went. If the silence in the room was any indication, then yes, they were watching.
She returned to the main room in a matter of minutes, toting several plates of hors d’oeuvres and a stack of small plates and napkins on a tray. The men called out bets and played out their hands while she served them, taking care to bend over them deeply and deliberately.
She brushed her hand up the forty-something man’s arm after she laid his plate beside him. “I hope you enjoy the treats.”
His gaze didn’t waver from her bountiful cleavage. “Oh, I already am, Miss.”
“Call me Jasmine, Sir.”
“Fine, Jasmine. And you can keep calling me Sir.”
A warm flush spread up her neck. Mmm. Yes, he was most assuredly a Sir. He had an appealing smattering of gray hair at his temples. She flashed on an image of him tying her hands to a bedpost. She hadn’t been reading all those BDSM stories for nothing. “As you wish, Sir.”
He reached out and trailed his fingertips up the outside of her bare thigh and traced the skin at the hem of her skirt. “Do you always wear such short skirts, Jasmine?”
“Not always, Sir.”
“Pity. They suit you.” His gentle strokes sent shivery sensations down her legs.
“Hey, Sir,” said Kyle. “It’s your bet.”
Sir didn’t bother reviewing his hand. “I fold,” he said, tossing his cards into the center of the table.
A couple of men snorted, and the play moved on. As did Sir’s fingers. His fingertips glided along the hem of her skirt, around to the back of her thigh. She held her breath as his hand slid under the fabric, sought the edges of her panties.
Now, he traced that silky edge. His gaze rose to meet her own. “You say you’re not the complaining type.”
“That’s right.”
“What if I were to ask you to remove your panties for me? I think we’d all enjoy you serving us while we picture how naked you are under that little skirt. It would please us all very much, and it’s harmless, don’t you think?”
She pretended to ponder his request. Then she nodded. “I’m here to make you happy. I don’t see any problem with you using your imagination.”
“Splendid!”
Jasmine stepped back. Sir and the rest of the men watched as she demurely lifted the sides of her skirt and hooked her panties under her thumbs. Keeping her pertinent parts hidden, she slowly lowered her panties to the ground. Once she picked them up, she dangled them on a finger in front of her attentive audience.
“Is it everything you hoped it would be, Sir?”
Sir gave her a slow, sexy smile. “It is, Jasmine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She tossed her panties onto a nearby table. “Does anyone need anything?”
Geoff raised his chin and gestured beside his chair. “I dropped my napkin. If you wouldn’t mind ...”
She strolled over and saw the napkin on the floor. She kneeled down in a dainty movement, keeping her rear down and legs together, in short, not giving him what he wanted. With an innocent expression, she held the napkin up to him. “Here you are.”
“Thanks so much.” The corner of his mouth twitched. He took the napkin, touching her hand in a lingering way. Then he returned to the game.
From the conversation that rose during the play, she learned that the other man in a suit, the one close in age to Geoff, was named Michael. He was blonde, tall, and lean, and sent her hungry looks whenever he thought she wasn’t looking at him. She enjoyed the obvious desire in those beautiful blue eyes.
She walked over to Michael and leaned down next to him. Her voice was quiet so as not to interrupt the other men who were bantering over their play. “I thought you might need something. What can I do for you?”
He glanced at her face, then down at her cleavage displayed so near to him. “I’m finding part of your uniform unappealing.”
She frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Can it be fixed?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He held out his hands. “Do you mind if I make an adjustment or two?”
“Oh no. Go right ahead.”
He reached out and headed straight for the buttons on her blouse. In a few quick motions, he unbuttoned her shirt half-way down her torso. The tight shirt gaped open and displayed most of her breasts, including a full third of each areola.
He eyed the result but wasn’t satisfied with it, and he rapidly undid the remaining buttons. He tied the shirt ends together under her breasts, revealing her toned midriff, then he adjusted the fabric so that her breasts were almost fully in view. In fact, a slight tug on the loosened fabric would have been all it took to completely reveal her breasts.
He looked over his handiwork, a finger traveling along the curves of her revealed chest.
She swallowed hard, didn’t have to look around to know all eyes were on her.
“I think,” Michael said, “I can live with this ... for now anyway.”
She nodded. She suddenly felt a hand sliding up her thigh and smoothing over her bare ass cheek. She turned her head. It was Kyle, grinning widely.
Jasmine stood up straight and allowed Kyle to touch her at will. She trembled as his fingers approached her slit, but never actually touched her there. He was a tease and she loved it.
She also loved the way the other men were quieter now, how they didn’t know whether to look at her nearly bare chest or to try to x-ray vision under her skirt to reveal what Kyle was doing.
Geoff was obviously struggling to keep the men focused on the game, to give Jasmine the full fantasy she requested. He had to remind them repeatedly when it was their turn to make a bet, or tell them they hadn’t put in their ante.
And it wasn’t like Geoff wasn’t having difficulties of his own. Jasmine noticed him repeatedly shifting in his chair, obviously trying to relieve the pressure growing between his legs.
She had her own pressure growing down below. Her mouth was slightly open and her breath came in increasingly shallow bursts. Kyle squeezed her ass and stroked over her hip, ran down her thigh and up again. He teased the edge of her skirt, lifting it slightly, toying with uncovering more and more flesh.
This was heating up, and fast. Maybe too fast.
Geoff cleared his throat loudly. “I can appreciate your fascination with our lovely server,
gentlemen, but we have a game going here and I, for one, intend to play it.”
The other men jerked their gazes away from Jasmine and turned to Geoff, several of them looking irritated.
Geoff shuffled the cards. “So, if Jasmine’s up for it, I have an idea how to handle this tricky situation.”
Kyle dropped his hand from Jasmine’s ass. Pity, she thought. However, she was more interested in what Geoff was about to propose.
“I think we need to bring some order to this thing,” Geoff said. “Easy enough. I suggest that whoever wins a hand, is given the option of passing some time with Jasmine, here at the table, lasting the length of the next hand. Then the winner of that hand can entertain the lovely lady. And so on. Make sense?”
The men nodded, looked over at Jasmine with no small amount of expectation in their eyes.
“Jasmine?” Geoff asked.
Her palms had gone damp. This was all Geoff’s idea. They hadn’t discussed this when she talked to him about her fantasy. Well, his idea sounded like it had serious promise.
“I’m willing,” she said.
The men seemed to sit up a bit straighter after her answer.
The man in his twenties who was dressed similarly to Kyle (his name, she learned, was Sean), leaned forward in his chair. “When you say ‘pass some time’ with Jasmine, what exactly does that mean?”
Geoff sighed. “It means you can work it out with her, if you ever get the chance. The way you’re playing, you never will.”
“I was distracted,” Sean said. “Now there’s a reason to pay attention. Deal the cards.”
Geoff riffled through the deck one more time. “Here we go then.”
Jasmine stepped back and perched on a bar stool, avidly watching the men play. She privately admitted some disappointment when Geoff folded early in the hand. By the turn bet, Sir and Kyle had folded also. It came to a showdown between Michael and Sean at the river.
Jasmine recognized the aggression in Sean’s play. She’d seen it before in young men who learned to play the game on the Internet. Sean wanted to push Michael off the pot. Minutes ticked by as they debated their moves. Michael eventually surprised Sean and called his bet.