by Michael Cohen
She was sitting at the table behind me during the poker tournament, so close I could smell her perfume, feel her body heat. She was good too. I could tell by the comments from the other guys she was beating at their game. I caught her eye during a break. She smiled and I got that rush of desire deep in my loins. When she turned to go back, her long red hair swung gracefully around her face. She brushed it back and sat down. I stood there, mesmerized until they called my name and I rejoined the game.
Twenty minutes later we were down to the final table and she joined. As she took the seat next to me I felt a surge of lust rise through my body and suddenly I didn’t care about poker anymore. Her lilac perfume filled my head with sweet visions of lying naked next to her in a garden, stroking her hair, caressing her flesh. I was in a stupor, playing poker by rote, dreaming of possessing this gorgeous woman. I didn’t notice the game at all or the hour that passed since she sat down, but somehow the seven other players had lost all their chips, mostly to her, and the game was down to just the two of us.
The dealer called for a break and we stood up. Normally, I have no problems talking to women, but I’d never met such a beautiful, confident, female poker player before and I suddenly found myself searching for words as if they were my missing car keys.
“It’s down to the two of us,” I somehow managed to squeak out.
“Interesting,” she replied and before I could ask her name or strike up a more meaningful conversation, she turned and walked away. I was left gawking, words stuck in my throat, a throbbing in my crotch, watching her perfect ass slide from side to side as she glided on stiletto heels away from me and disappeared into the crowd. The announcer from the poker crew interrupted my reverie.
“So, Frank, how does it feel to be going heads up against Lady Luck for the grand prize?” he asked.
“Lady Luck?” I replied.
“Shannon, your competition. She’s the best poker player on the east coast. She’s got the luck of the Irish.”
My head swirled as he spoke. Shannon. She’s Irish! The red hair with the freckled white skin was always my favorite. I muttered something I hoped was intelligible and walked away to wash up and get ready for the last round of play. I could have fallen off a cliff as my mind conjured up feverish images of that beautiful red bush at the top of her creamy white thighs, the freckles on her chest that I longed to sweep with my tongue.
I walked out of the restroom and bumped right into her. I felt her breast brush my upper arm. The contact felt like fireworks against my skin.
“Excuse me, Shannon” I said. I turned to face her and again I felt a burst of lust race through my body. She had pulled her hair back and changed clothes during the break and she now wore an almost see through blouse that displayed her perfect, round breasts and gave more than a hint of her hard pink nipples. And she had put on more of that intoxicating lilac perfume I loved.
“So you know my name now,” she said, her voice deep and velvety, almost hypnotizing.
“Uh, yeah, the uh, announcer, you know…,” I stuttered. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her breasts pressed against the flimsy material of her blouse, begging to be held.
“And you’re Frank. Right?”
“You like heads up, Frank?”
My mind reeled. Yeah I like heads up, my head up against yours, my face up against those perfect breasts, my tongue up against…
“Uh, heads up poker? Sure. I mean it always goes down…I mean comes…uh, ends with two people against each other, playing cards I mean. Doesn’t it?” Damn! Why couldn’t I talk?
“Yes. Yes it does.”
She turned and walked towards the table. I followed her like a puppy dog on a leash, completely lost in the heady cloud of perfume she trailed behind her. I had to clear my thoughts or this final round was going to be short and I wanted to sit next to her, inhaling her, having her next to me for as long as I could.
We took our seats and the dealer began. The small crowd of onlookers watched silently as cards hit the table, chips flew, then more cards. She made a large bet. I glanced over and saw her fingers almost imperceptibly trace the outline of her erect nipple, straining hard against her blouse. I couldn’t think what to do next. Call? Raise? Fold? Rip off my clothes and jump on top of her?
“Fold”, I stammered and awkwardly threw my cards face down on the table.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the dealer pushed the chips over to her stack. All I could think about was sweeping the cards and the chips off the table, taking Shannon in my arms, laying her gently across the vibrant green felt and then slowly undressing her. First her blouse, then those stiletto heels, her stockings, her skirt. I imagined her moaning as I caressed her breasts, letting my tongue lick her cleavage. With one hand I cradled her head and with the other I removed her panties, damp from the excitement I imagined we were both feeling. I put my face against the red hair that covered her vagina and inhaled deeply, a mix of lilac perfume and the wonderful smell of her femininity. I probed through her pubic hair with my tongue until I found her clit, hard and wet, reaching out to kiss my hungry mouth…
I heard a voice.
“Sir. It’s your turn.”
It was the dealer. There was no lovemaking on the table, just chips and cards. I snapped back to reality feeling only the throbbing erection between my legs, remembering the poker tournament.
“Sorry,” I managed to say and quickly picked up my cards. Pocket aces! I remember those. I glanced over to Shannon who sat silent next to me, her cards down, her eyes turned away.
“Check,” I said trying not to let any emotion show on my face. It took Shannon a split second to respond.
“All in,” she said confidently.
My mind reeled again. All in. Yes! That’s what I wanted. Everything I had all in everything she had, grinding, moaning, smelling, tasting, feeling. Stop! Think, Frank, think! How many chips, where do we stand, what are we doing here?
“Call.” It was all I could do to spit out that four letter word without my voice cracking. We had roughly the same amount of chips so this was it. The showdown. Winner take all.
I pushed my chips forward and my rock hard cock bumped against the edge of the table as we stood up. My face turned beet red as I realized I was standing there, in the middle of the casino, with Shannon, a film crew and a gallery of onlookers staring at me, while my cock strained against my pants. I was sure everybody noticed but there was nothing I could do about it. We turned our cards up and a gasp went up from the crowd. My pocket aces against her pocket queens! I had her!
I turned to Shannon and grabbed her hand. “Good luck”, I said. She nodded as the dealer turned three cards face up on the table. A six, a nine – and a queen! She was ahead. Her three queens to my two aces! Then the turn card – a seven, no help. And lastly, the river card.
“Wait,” I said to the dealer and turned to Shannon. “How about the winner buys the loser a drink?”
The dealer turned over the last card. An ace! I won. A flush of success raced through my body and everything got blurry. Shannon congratulated me, shook my hand and walked away. Before I could call to her I was surrounded by well wishers, announcers and security guards asking me questions, patting me on the back. All I could do was watch as that sweet lilac scented woman glided through the crowd on those sexy legs and disappeared. I didn’t want the prize money, I wanted her!
Later that night I found her in the bar, drinking alone and reading one of those overpriced books on poker strategy.
“So, can I buy you that drink now?”
She smiled, closed her book and stretched like a cat. I watched, still taken with her as she arched her back, pushing her breasts upwards.
“Playing poker for days makes my entire body ache”, she said.
Now that the tournament was over I seemed to have regained the ability to speak.
“You know, in addition to being a world class poker player, I also give a first rate massage.” I could tell by the look in her eyes that I had gotten her attention.
“Is that so?” she purred.
By the time the elevator door closed she was kissing me, hard. We were half undressed when we reached her room, lips clamped onto each other, hands roaming wildly. Clothing flew everywhere and finally we were naked and alone. I picked her up and carried her to the bed, laid her gently down and stood back to admire her gorgeous body as she moaned and writhed, waiting for the final assault. I climbed on top of her and stared deeply into her eyes.
“What are you waiting for?” she breathed.
“I’ve got a flush, what’ve you got?
“Just a pair”, she said. “of these.” She grabbed her breasts and mashed them together inches from my mouth.
“All in!” I shouted as I thrust myself deep inside of her dripping pussy. She screamed with delight as I penetrated her moist, red velvet walls over and over again until finally we came in a huge gush of pent up energy and boiling intensity that swept over us until we collapsed in a satisfied, sweaty heap. I stayed inside of her as we calmed down and caught our breath.
“I just love no limit hold ‘em, don’t you?” I asked and we both laughed, rolling around on the bed until passion grabbed hold of us and we started a second round of high stakes action I hoped would never end.
Originally posted 2013-05-20 00:41:24.