Nothing Left To Wager By Lubrican

   She stood there, flushed, obviously agitated, staring at me in
disbelief.

   "You're not going to actually do this!" she said, somewhat breathlessly.

   "I'm not?" I grinned.  "I won, fair and square."

   "But ..." She was speechless.  I loved it.  "This is crazy!" she moaned.

   "A bet is a bet," I said sternly.

   =================================

   It was just a routine poker night, and she came with her boyfriend. 
Ellen doesn't play poker.  I assumed she was placating him.  He was a bit
of an asshole and I didn't like him or the way he treated her, but I had no
say in it, of course.  Neither did any of the regulars.  That's probably
why we took such joy in taking everything he put on the table.

   The other three guys there that night were some of about six or seven
regulars.  They knew the deal.  It was all supposed to be in fun. 
Everybody won some times and lost others.  It all evened out in the end.

   But it was Jeff's first time and he took it way too seriously from the
very beginning.

   There are a couple types of poker players.  The kind I preferred to play
with were like Tom, Clint, and Doug, who were the regulars there that
night. Most of us had known each other since we were in grade school and
we'd all stayed in touch after high school.  We all knew each other's
parents and, for the most part, all those parents treated us like our own.
What I mean is that it wasn't odd at all for someone else's parents to
enforce rules on all of us.  And that included Ellen, who was sort of a
regular herself at the games, even though she didn't play poker.  Call her
a mascot, maybe.  If she was between boyfriends, or didn't have other
plans, she showed up on poker night and either watched a movie or us play
poker; whichever was more interesting at a given moment.

   Then you have the players who are hungry, like winning means something
special to them.  Sometimes that's because they want to dominate the others
...  to show their superiority.  Sometimes it's because they need a score,
`cause they're broke, or owe somebody a lot of money or something.  They
NEED to win.  It's not fun for those types, which means it's usually not
fun for the rest of us either.

   Anyway, it looked like Jeff was showing off for Ellen, maybe.  She'd
told him about our game when he said he liked to play poker.  Maybe he told
her he was really good, and was trying to prove it to her.  For whatever
reason, it became obvious that he needed to win.

   And, when things turned out like they did, I sort of figured it was
mostly her fault, for inviting him without talking to the rest of us first.

   ================================

   Ellen still stared at me.

   "You can't be serious," she moaned.

   "Why not?" I asked.  "You brought him here."

   "He said he liked poker!" she whined.  "I didn't think THIS would
happen!"

   "Well it did," I said.

   "I've never seen you guys bet anything like THIS!"

   "You let him make the bet," I reminded her.  "You said he could."

   "He had three fucking KINGS!" she almost shouted.

   "And I had a full house," I said, reasonably.

   ==================================

   Jeff had started off bragging about how he was going to take everything
we had.  Some of the tense types are like that.  They think it's tactics or
something.  They think they're psyching out the other players.

   We love to see those types show up for a game.  They never have a poker
face worth a damn.

   He met our expectations.  He might as well have been wearing glasses
that showed us his cards in their reflection.  There were some looks
between us regulars that spoke volumes as we started to play the game. 
What the regulars played wasn't poker, though.  Not really.  Not that
night. I don't think any of the others liked him either.  Like I said, we'd
all been best friends all our lives.  They all knew Ellen and they liked
her.  And they didn't like the way he treated her.

   I think what sealed his fate was when he said, "Make yourself useful and
get me a beer." He wasn't looking at her, but we knew he wasn't talking to
any of us.  That she got him the beer made my own poker face a little
strained.

   We let him win a few rounds ...  got him pumped up ...  and then
commenced to make him a pauper.  We took our time ...  didn't make it
obvious.  It took two hours before he was down to his last chip.

   "You guys take credit?" he asked, licking his lips.  He was staring at
those three Kings, though we didn't know what they were just then.

   "Don't joke around," I said.  "This is serious business."

   Doug gave a honking bark and I glanced at him.  He pretended to be
choking on the swig of water he'd taken like thirty seconds ago--his hand
was covering his smile.  We had never had a game that anybody would have
characterized as "serious business." Well, maybe except this one, the
business of which was to separate Jeff from both his money and all that
macho he'd been piling on us.

   Jeff didn't notice.  He was sweating and his eyes were still glued to
his cards.

   "I need some credit," he said.  "I've had a run of bad luck.  You can't
shut me out now."

   What he'd had was a run of bad skill, but I didn't say anything.

   Clint spoke, sounding like he was bored.

   "You're only down a couple hundred.  What's the big deal?"

   "The big deal is I can get that back with this hand!" he growled.

   "Yeah ...  right," said Clint.  "But you got nothing left to wager. 
It's the breaks of the game."

   "Come ON, man!" moaned Jeff.  He looked at the garish gold watch on his
wrist.  "How 'bout my Rolex?" he asked, looking around.  "It's worth at
least fifteen hundred."

   We all knew it was a knockoff and that he'd probably paid fifty bucks
for it in some back alley somewhere.

   "I already have a watch," I said.  "Bet or fold."

   I don't think anybody expected what came next.  If he'd tried to bet his
car or something like that, we might not have been so surprised.  But he
bet something worth a whole lot more.

   "I'll bet a night with Ellen," he said.

   It wasn't too surprising that the first person to speak was the intended
bet.

   "WHAT?!" It was easy to understand why she was upset.

   "Take it easy," he said smoothly, turning around to look at her.  "Look
at my cards."

   "You can't do that!" she yelped.  "You can't just bet ME!"

   "LOOK AT MY CARDS!" he yelled.

   The rest of us all lost our poker faces for a minute or two.  I felt
like giggling, but choked it back.  Nothing like this had ever happened. 
Not in one of our games.

   By the time we got ourselves under control the argument was already
mostly over.  Why she liked this guy so much was impossible to figure out,
but she must have.  Ellen looked around at all of the regulars.  Then she
looked at the pile of chips in the middle of the table.

   "How much is there?" she asked.

   Tom reached out and flicked chips this way and that.  "About a grand,"
he pronounced.

   I think that surprised all of us.  The pots at our game never got that
high.  If we had a fifty dollar pot, it was big doings.

   She walked around the table, acting like she was just thinking about
things.  The rest of us pressed our cards to our chests.  We knew what she
was trying to do.  She looked miffed when she got back behind Jeff.

   She looked at his cards again, over his shoulder.

   "If you win you're taking me to the Alan Jackson concert, and I mean VIP
all the way.

   "Right," he said, relaxing a little.

   "Back stage passes and everything!" she insisted.

   "All right!" he yelled.  "Whatever you want."

   "OK," she said.

   =====================================

   "I can't believe you took the bet!" she moaned.

   "Why wouldn't I?" I asked.

   "I mean all of you!" she snapped.  "I thought you guys liked me!"

   "Hence our willingness to take the bet," I said reasonably.

   "But you guys don't think about me like that!" she moaned.

   "We don't?" I grinned.  "What planet do you come from?"

   "But Tom ...  and Doug.  I've known them forever.  They never made a
move on me," she complained.

   "You always had a boyfriend," I said.  "Usually a much better one than
Jeffy boy," I added.

   "Why couldn't Doug have won?" she whined.

   "You got a thing for Doug?" I grinned and she slapped at me.  She
missed.

   "At least he's cute!" she snarled.  "At least Doug treats me like a
lady."

   "Are you saying I don't?" I tried to pout.  "I'm injured."

   "You're an asshole!" she said.  "I can't believe you'd even THINK about
doing this!"

   "It wasn't my idea," I said.  "Your boyfriend is the one who made the
bet."

   "My EX boyfriend!" Her voice sounded ugly.

   "I approve," I said.  "I heartily approve."

   She stared at me, a calculating look on her face.  "So ...  you're going
to let me out of this ...  right?"

   "Not a chance," I said firmly.  "I won.  I get you for the night."

   "You are SUCH an asshole!" she yelled.  "Why can't I have Doug?"

   "Because Doug didn't win," I said calmly.

   ==============================

   I saw why Clint had stayed in when he laid down two pair; Fives and
Jacks.  Doug and Tom folded.  I never got to see their hands, but I mean to
ask about them.  I suspect they folded just because they DO like Ellen, and
didn't want to chance ending up where I currently was ...  in a bedroom
with a thoroughly unhappy woman.

   Jeff slammed down his three Kings.  He was very tense.

   I let out with a fairly theatrical: "Shit." I saw Ellen relax.

   I laid the three Tens down, one at a time, and there came on Jeff's face
a look of exultation.  He reached for the pot with both arms.  I could
almost hear him saying, "Come to papa," to all those chips.

   "Don't you want to see what I have?" I asked.

   "I see three fucking Tens!" crowed Jeff.

   I laid down the two Sevens together and Jeff froze.  I'll never forget
how that look of exultation drained away and his face got pale, only to
turn so red I thought he'd have a stroke or something.

   "FUCK!" he screamed.

   "Yeah," I said softly.  "That's what you bet ...  now wasn't it."

   ==================================

   "You can't fuck me," she said firmly.

   "I won you for the night," I replied.

   "OK, so you won me for the night," she said, not missing a beat.  "That
doesn't mean you can fuck me."

   "That was the bet," I said.  "Everybody knew what he meant, including
you."

   "Bobbeeeeeee," she wailed.  "You can't be serious about thinking I'd
actually DO this!"

   "I always thought you were a woman of your word," I said sadly.

   "I AM!" she shouted.  "But you can't ask me to keep my word about THIS!"

   "Yes I can," I said.

   She stared at me.  She was panting and it made her breasts rise and fall
in a most delightful way.  I envisioned them naked, underneath me, rising
and falling like that ...  except with passion, instead of panic and anger.
I wanted to ring her bell.  I wanted her to want to stay in that bed with
me when the morning came.

   She looked shocked.  Then a look of both surprise and understanding came
over her face.

   "You've thought about this before!" she accused.

   I didn't bat an eye.  "I have," I admitted.

   "You motherfucker!" she moaned.

   "You're not a mother yet, Ellen," I said softly.

   She blinked about four or five times and her breathing slowed.

   "I'm not on anything," she said.  "You can't fuck me.  I'm fertile."

   "What about Jeffy?" I asked, almost maliciously.

   "I make him wear a condom," she said.  "Not that it's any of your
business."

   "You're right," I said cheerfully.  "It's none of my business.  I don't
have a condom, though."

   "Then you can't fuck me," she said firmly.

   "Yes I can," I said.  "I won the bet ...  the bet YOU approved."

   "But I could get pregnant!" she yelped.

   I gave her a few seconds of silence.

   "Tell you what," I said.  "Seeing as how I'm a good guy, I'll pull out
when I cum.  You can take it in your mouth.  How's that?"

   I thought she might come unglued.

   "That's DISGUSTING!" she shouted.  "I can't believe you even SAID that!"

   I was tired of playing around.  I stood up from where I'd been sitting
on the edge of my bed.

   "Up to you," I said, unbuttoning my shirt.  "That's my final offer.  I
won.  Pay up."

   ==================================

   Jeff had blustered, and tried to renege on the bet.  At least he was
that much of a man.  I probably should have taken his stupid knock off
watch, and maybe his car too, to teach him a lesson.

   But the fact was that Ellen was standing there and she looked delicious.
She always looked delicious with that short blond hair that fell just past
the bottom of her ears.  She had high cheekbones and naturally arching
eyebrows.  She didn't use much makeup, because she didn't need it.  I
always thought of the term "pixie-ish" when I looked at her.

   I'd looked at her breasts lots of times and those firm, full swells had
tantalized me for a long time.  She had a beautiful ass too, which she
routinely packed into tight jeans, like she was wearing that night.  She
just looked ...  healthy.  She was bright, and cheerful, and happy, and she
made a man think about a woman's natural role in the circle of life.  I'd
been stiff more than a few times after watching her.

   Of course she didn't know that.  I'd never told her that.  The
relationship she had with the rest of us regulars was that of a buddy, and
always had been for whatever reason.  I thought it was probably because she
always had a boyfriend.  That and the fact that the regulars were all
gentlemen at heart.  And three of them were married and didn't stray.  That
didn't mean you couldn't appreciate the qualities of your "buddy" though,
and I knew they all did.

   Anyway, when Jeff found out we were going to hold him to the bet, he
stormed out.  Just like that.  He left her there.  He didn't even threaten
to fight.  I hadn't actually intended on claiming the spoils ...  until
then.  I knew she deserved better and I thought I was the one to show her
how good it could be.

   Yeah, I know.  I was probably being macho and stupid, but I'm a man,
after all, and she was a woman I'd lusted after for a long time.

   She was standing there, looking kind of bewildered.  Doug laughed and
Tom joined him.  Clint said "You're a lucky man, Bob," and then almost fell
on the floor laughing.  They all stumbled toward the front door, still
guffawing.

   "Hey!" said Ellen.  "Where are YOU guys going?!"

   "Bobby won the bet," called Tom, still laughing.  "We don't EVEN want to
be here when he tries to collect." The other two almost couldn't get out
the door, falling against the walls and each other, they were laughing so
hard.  They knew about how mad she could get sometimes.  It really didn't
happen all that often, but they all had experience with what she was like
when she got ticked off.

   I think the fact she was so weirded out by the situation was why I got
her to my bedroom before she started coming unglued.

   ==================================

   "I'm not going to do it," she said, her voice calm.

   "Like I said, suit yourself," I drawled.  "But people will know you
reneged on a bet.  They'll know you don't keep your word."

   "You wouldn't DARE tell anybody!" she yipped.

   "Why not?" I asked.  "You could have told that bastard to get out when
he came up with the whole idea." I stared at her.  "Somebody would have
taken you home." I let that sink in.  "But you didn't.  You said OK."

   "HE HAD THREE KINGS!" she squealed.

   "And I had a full house," I said again.

   I dropped my shirt on the floor.  I undid my pants and pushed them down.
My jockeys were full of something that was paying homage to her.  When I
stood back up, it was obvious.  I was almost proud of the bulge there.

   She stared.

   "You're hard." Her voice sounded funny ...  kind of weak.

   "I told you I've thought about this before," I said.

   "You ...  want me," she said weakly.

   "Ohhhh yeah," I sighed.

   All she had to do was walk out.  I couldn't have stopped her.  Well, I
wouldn't have stopped her.  I mean I'm not a rapist.  The thought of taking
a woman by force doesn't do anything for me at all.  But I wasn't going to
invite her to leave.

   I pushed my shorts down and stepped out of them.  When I stood up, her
eyes went right to my prick.

   "See what you do to me?" I asked softly.

   "Wow," she whispered.  "You're big."

   "Not so much," I said modestly.  "I'm pretty normal."

   "You LOOK big," she said, licking her lips.

   "That's just because you never saw it before," I suggested.

   "Of course I never saw it before," she said weakly.

   "It was always there and it's been this way because of you lots of
times."

   "It has?" She sounded faint.

   "Lots of times," I said again.

   "That's just weird, Bobby," she sighed.  Her face was pinker than
normal.

   She tore her eyes away from my prod, and jammed her hands in her jeans
pockets.  She turned and I thought she was going for the door.  I felt a
little sad, but she only walked a couple of steps and then turned and came
back.  I realized she was pacing ...  thinking.  She stopped and her face
turned toward me.

   "You really shouldn't fuck me," she said.  "It could mess up everything
between us."

   "I know," I said.  "But I can't help how I feel."

   She paced some more.  I heard her mumble something about not believing
she got herself into this situation.  I almost grinned, but managed not to.
I didn't want her to see anything like a grin on my face just then.

   She stopped again.

   "How about if I just got naked and jerked you off?"

   She was negotiating!  I felt a surge of elation.  At least she wasn't
just going to leave.

   "I get to touch you," I said.

   "Where?" she asked, looking worried.

   "Anywhere I want to," I said.  I had the high ground here.  I had won
the bet.

   "But you won't fuck me?" She didn't sound sure of that.

   "Are you staying all night?" I asked.

   "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked.

   "If you agree to stay all night, I'll let you decide if I fuck you or
not," I said.

   She bit her lower lip between pearly white teeth.

   "OK," she said.

   I'd expected her to sound more relieved than she did.  But, then again,
she'd said "OK" once before that night, and it hadn't turned out all that
well.  At least in her opinion.

   ====================================

   I did some staring of my own as she took her clothes off.  She was
gorgeous and I now knew that Jeff was a complete idiot for even thinking
about letting some other man have her, three Kings or not.  I couldn't
think of anything that was worth betting her on.

   Her nipples surprised me.  They were blood red.  I had expected pink, or
maybe tan, but not something that looked like they had lipstick on them. 
Her breasts were bigger than I expected too, and heavier.  She was only
twenty-one, but her breasts were already sagging enough that she'd fail the
pencil test.  The areolas were red too, and the way her breasts spread made
them look like two eyes, looking off in slightly different directions.

   Another thing I wasn't prepared for was that she was shaved down there.
I hadn't known that.  Of course ...  why would I?  She'd never been naked
with me before.  Her pussy lips were fat and dark too.

   Of course her whole upper chest was bright red when she finally dropped
her last piece of clothing on the floor.  She was blushing from her chest
all the way up, so maybe that had something to do with the coloring on the
tips of her breasts.

   "Wow," I said.

   "I can't believe I'm standing here in front of you like this," she said,
her voice shaky.

   "I can," I sighed.  "Wow.  You have no idea how long I've wanted to see
you like this."

   "I thought I was supposed to do that," she said.

   I didn't understand at first, and then realized my hand had gone to my
cock and I was slowly uncovering my knob, then letting the foreskin slide
back forward to hide it again.

   Only the fact that she'd promised to stay all night made it possible for
me to enjoy what happened, because it happened way too fast.  I got on the
bed and lay on my back.  She stood there for maybe fifteen seconds, staring
at my prick, and then, almost gingerly, climbed on the bed with me.  She
sat next to me, about hip level, and folded her lower legs back under her,
kind of leaning sideways, with one hand between my legs supporting her on
the bed.

   Her other hand came tentatively to my prick.  At first her grip was
tenuous.  The skin of her fingers was touching it, but there was no
pressure.

   Then there was just enough pressure to slide my foreskin back.

   Suddenly ...  and I mean suddenly, she was jacking me off like crazy. 
It was like somebody had dropped a coin in a slot and the machinery inside
her had suddenly jumped to life.  I didn't know where to look.  The tip of
her tongue was clamped between her lips and she looked ...  interested ...
in what she was doing.  But those breasts shimmied and shook while her arm
pumped, and I wanted to look at them too.  And, of course, I wanted to see
her hand on my penis, because it was hard to believe it was actually
happening.

   I didn't count, but I imagine it was no more than fifteen strokes before
a long rope of white spunk shot up into the air, to splat on my abdomen. 
It was followed by three more as she kept jacking my cock.

   I'd been naked with her for maybe two whole minutes when I came.  It was
embarrassing.

   In fact, it was SO embarrassing that I sat up and rolled to my knees to
distract her.  She had to move the hand supporting her and she kind of fell
onto her elbow, with her head at the foot of the bed.  I grabbed her knee
closest to me and pulled on it.

   "What?" she yelped, at my sudden flurry of activity.  That was followed
by an "Ow!" as my hand squeezed hard above her knee and I pulled until her
legs spread and she flopped onto her back.

   "Bobby!" she complained, as I got between her legs and lifted her butt
to move it away from the edge of the bed.  "What are you ...."

   Her question morphed into a kind of moaning whine as I buried my face in
her bald pussy.

   The first thing I noticed was her taste.

   No, the first thing I noticed was that she was already slippery.

   Maybe the first thing I noticed was that she must have just shaved that
pussy recently, because there was no hint of stubble anywhere.  She was
smooth as a baby's butt.

   Um ...  wait.  The first thing I noticed was that her heels dragged up
and pressed into the bed as her pussy lurched up at my face.

   OK, I don't remember the first thing I noticed.  It all came at me kind
of quick.

   I DO remember lifting my face from her sopping, slippery pussy, a little
later though, and looking at those fat, engorged pussy lips.  It almost
looked like she'd been fucked and somebody had cum in her.  There was a
sticky white strand of something that bridged her open pussy mouth and her
clit was exposed, standing tall.  I'd been sucking on that clit and her
hips kept making little fuck motions, even though I'd stopped to breathe. I
saw the covers gripped in her white-knuckled fists, on each side of her
hips.

   "Don't stop," she complained.  She'd already had two orgasms.  Either
that or she had a seizure disorder that I didn't know anything about.  She
was being greedy now.

   But I was feeling pretty good by then too, other than being out of
breath from having those strong legs wrapped around my head, crushing my
face to her pussy.

   So I sucked her through another one, and this time, when she was right
there, I bit her clit.

   "OWWWWW," she whined, as her hips went rigid in the pushed up position.
I managed to slip my hands under her butt.  "Don't ..." I expected her to
tell me to stop biting her as she strained.  Then she let out this ragged
scream that sounded like someone was beating her half to death.  Somewhere
in there was a sound vaguely like, "Staaahhhhhhhp," and her hips lurched
back down.  I lost my grip on her clit with my teeth, which was good,
because she would have ripped it off if I hadn't and that WOULDN'T have
been good.

   She squirted my face again and I mushed my lips back and forth all over
her pussy lips as I sucked it up.  It must have been a good one, because
she finally went limp.

   I kissed ...  OK I slid ...  my way up over her mons and belly, to find
two heaving breasts, with spiked red nipples, so I stopped at them for a
while.  I had to push hard to keep a nipple in my mouth, but the sounds she
made were of approval and I sucked for what seemed like ten minutes,
changing nipples every so often.

   I was getting tired of holding myself up, so I kissed up to her neck.  A
hand kept me from moving upwards and suddenly a wad of cloth was shoved in
my face.  It turned out to be one of the pillows.

   "You can't kiss me with my stuff on your face," she panted.  "That's
nasty!"

   I let her try to smother me for a few seconds and then batted the pillow
away.  She tried to turn her head, and in the process of grasping her face
with both hands I kind of fell on her.  There was this whoosh of expelled
air as she grunted and I glued my lips to hers.  By the time I got my hands
back on the bed to take my weight off of her, my tongue was in her mouth
and she was kissing me back.

   That lasted for what seemed like another ten minutes, and by then I was
so out of breath that I had to stop.  I hated flopping down beside her,
because that meant it was over, or at least that she could get up and
leave, if she wanted to, because I wasn't holding her down anymore.

   She didn't move though.  She just lay there gasping.  I felt
unaccountably glad, or proud, or something.  Once again, she wasn't
leaving. I know she'd promised to stay, but I would have understood
completely if she'd fled.  It had been intense.

   Her hand fumbled for mine.  I cannot describe how elated I felt as her
fingers intertwined with mine and squeezed.

   Chapter Two

   We lay there recuperating.  She was the first to say anything.

   "I never tasted myself before."

   "Sorry," I sighed.

   "It wasn't at all like I thought it would be," she said.

   I turned my head toward her.

   "Really?" There was a lot of hope in my voice.

   She rolled toward me and lay one arm across my chest.

   "I can't believe we did that," she said.

   I didn't say anything.

   "I can't believe it was like that," she added.

   "Hasn't it ever been like that before?" I asked.

   She actually snorted.  She didn't blow snot, which was good, but she
would have if there had been any in there.

   "No WAY," she said.

   I don't think I've ever been that proud of anything I did.

   "So you'll stay?" I have no idea why I gave her the out, but I did.

   She looked at me a long time.  Her eyes were serious.

   "I said I would." Her voice was soft, but firm.

   "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that," I sighed.

   Her hand slid down to my penis.  It went right through the spunk still
coating my abdomen, which by then was cool, but she didn't recoil.  She
gripped my still flaccid cock.

   "I think I have some idea," she said.  She leaned closer to me.  "I want
to kiss you again."

   ====================================

   "Deeper!" she gasped.

   I jammed my finger as far into her as I could.  I'd been fingerfucking
her pussy for a while now, while I kissed her.  My fingertip ran into
something round and rubbery and I explored it by massaging in a circle.

   "Yes!" she croaked.  "Right there!"

   I knew enough about female anatomy to guess that I was pressing against
her cervix.  I'd always thought that the clit was the sexual pleasure
center on a woman.  It turned out there are lots more "centers" for some
women.  I learned a lot with Ellen that night.

   Her hips started bucking again as I continued to prod and caress that
rubbery bump.  I found a center that I could just barely get the tip of my
finger in and pressed harder.  Her legs flopped open and she started to
wail.  When I leaned over and sucked a nipple, she flopped like a fish out
of water.

   Her legs slammed together and I knew, instinctively, to stop.  I left my
finger in her and lightened up on trying to get milk out of her breast. 
Another fifteen seconds went by and she reached for my hand.

   "Slowly," she panted, pulling.

   It felt like my finger was glued to the walls of her pussy at first. 
Once that bond broke, my finger slipped out of her.  She sighed and
relaxed, and it sounded like it was from the easing of some pain.

   "Did I hurt you?" I asked.

   "No," she panted.  "It's just really sensitive ...  after."

   "I don't want to hurt you," I said.

   Her head rolled towards mine.  Her green eyes were smiling.  Her fingers
were still holding my hand, which she had helped me remove from her crotch.
She pulled it up and examined my fingers.  The middle one had a slightly
milky coating on it.  It was the one that I had used on her cervix.  It was
awkward, until I realized what she was trying to do, but when I helped by
folding the other fingers down, she got that finger into her mouth and
sucked it clean.

   "I can't believe I like my own taste," she whispered, licking her lips.

   "I can," I said.  "I love your taste."

   She sucked the finger again, then sat up, convulsively.  She stared at
my crotch, where I knew my little buddy was standing at the position of
slightly drunken attention, poking out of the little forest of brown hair
down there.  She rolled to her hands and knees, her face right above my
cock.

   "Will I like your taste too?" she asked.

   "I don't know," I answered honestly.

   "I've never done this before," she said, reaching for my cock.

   "Really?"

   Her head swiveled and those green eyes pinned me.  She didn't have to
say a word.  She was unhappy that I had doubted her.

   "You don't have to," I said, feeling the excitement I was about to let
her deny me.

   She looked back at the thing in her hand, still not saying anything. 
She leaned down and kissed the tip.  Then she skinned the foreskin back and
kissed the uncovered knob.  She gave it a tentative lick with just the tip
of her tongue and tasted.  I don't know if she liked the taste, or if maybe
there WAS no taste, but she lowered her head and I felt heat surround the
glans.

   I must have sounded like I was dying, because she pulled off and looked
up at me.  I lifted my head as cool air returned to surround what had been
warm before.  Maybe there was a look of pleading on my face.  I don't know.
All I know is that she looked back at it and took it in her mouth again.

   She may never have sucked a cock before, but she'd eaten a popsicle, or
something similar.  And that was just fine.  I never felt anything so good
as what she did.  I'd only gotten two girls to do this in the past, so it
was still something relatively new to me too.  And as much as I was
enjoying it, she seemed to be having a pretty good time too.

   Ten minutes later, after making it rock hard again, trying to get the
whole thing in her mouth and choking on it, she pulled off.

   "How come it isn't squirting?" she asked.

   This I knew the answer to.

   "It feels really good," I panted.  "REALLY good ...  but you have to rub
it to make me cum."

   "Oh," she said.  "Why didn't you say so?"

   "Because I was having too good a time," I moaned.  "I didn't want it to
stop."

   "Well aren't you sweet," she purred.

   Then she went back to sucking it ...  and added a hand to the mix,
stroking.

   The other two girls had sucked a little bit and then just jacked me off.
I think I expected her to just do the same thing.  I'd heard of girls
swallowing, but since I wouldn't want to swallow it, I didn't really expect
anybody else to want to either, especially not her.

   Which was why, when I felt it coming, and started gasping and crying
like a baby, and she DIDN'T take her sucking cheeks off the knob, I blew
like a geyser.  I felt like my whole insides were coming through that tube
in my prick.  I felt her put her whole weight on her right hand, which was
on my abdomen.  I know she was just trying to keep me from flopping around
like she had, earlier, but it also felt like she was trying to push
everything out of me ...  through that tube in my prick.  My nuts felt like
squashed ping pong balls when it was over.  They ached from trying to
provide more to her sucking mouth.

   She sat up and tilted her head.  Her cheeks were all puffed out.  She
looked up and opened her mouth, to take in a ragged breath, and then closed
it again.  Her head turned to me and her eyes were wide.  I saw her cheeks
move.  She was tasting.  It was obvious.  The only thing that wasn't
obvious was whether she'd puke all over me or not.

   She sat on her calves, almost like she was deflating a little bit and
then, loud in the sudden stillness ...  she swallowed.

   It was one big gulping swallow and her mouth came open as she expelled
her breath and took in another.  Her lips smacked and her tongue came out,
briefly, to lick her upper lip.  She closed her mouth and swallowed again.
Her lips came open and I could see the ends of her upper teeth as the
corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

   "Not bad," she said.  She looked at me.  "Not as good as I taste ... 
but not bad.  I wouldn't mind doing it again."

   =================================

   We fell asleep lying in each other's arms, talking.  She drifted off
first, which made me feel good, because it meant she was obviously
comfortable.  I wanted to stay awake, to relish the feel of her in my arms.
It had gone so amazingly better than I could have hoped it would that I was
a little stunned.  She was my buddy too, just like she was the buddy of the
others.  The term "fuck buddy" came to mind.  I'd never been in that kind
of relationship before.  It was hard to imagine, the way they wrote about
it in stories.  Hard to imagine with Ellen, anyway.  On the other hand, the
idea of us doing this, maybe semi-frequently, was VERY attractive.

   The clock read three when I had to get up and drain out some of the beer
and soda I'd drunk while playing poker.  I went to the bathroom in the
dark, sitting down.  I never turned a light on.  That's because I tried to
stay in a doze when this happened, so I could go back to sleep easily when
I got back to bed.

   This time, though, there was a soft, warm body in bed when I got back.
She moved as I crawled in with her.

   "Gotta pee," she mumbled.  She'd drunk a beer and some soda too.

   I reached for the reading light, and she squinted and covered her eyes
as she stumbled over our clothes still lying on the floor and went in the
bathroom.  She turned on the light as she closed the door.

   She was in there a long time, it seemed, but I was awake now.  Watching
her bouncing white bottom walk away from me had gotten me going again.  I
was stiff when she finally came out.  She wasn't squinting any more.  She
came and stood by the bed, staring down at me.

   "Again?" Her voice held a mixture of surprise and ...  something else
... something I couldn't quite identify.

   "It's OK," I said.  "You more than paid the bet as far as I'm
concerned."

   She folded her arms under her breasts.  She looked fabulous.  Her hair
was short enough that even when it was tangled, it looked good ...  kind of
windblown looking.

   "You said all night." She also frowned.  "You also threatened to tell
people I didn't pay up."

   "You know I wouldn't have done that," I said.

   Her arms dropped and she smiled.  Her smile was brilliant.

   "I know," she said, almost happily.  "That's why I want to go again
too." She lifted one foot and put it on the bed, displaying her pussy lips.
"I washed for you, after I ...  well ...  you know."

   If I hadn't been rock hard already, that would have done it for me.

   "Get up," she ordered.  "Me first, then you."

   I got up and dashed to the bathroom.  I hadn't washed.  When I got back,
she was splayed on the bed, her heels drawn up and her knees wide open. 
She was playing with herself, rubbing her clit.  She was also making little
moaning noises.

   My motto is if it ain't broke, don't fix it.  I basically gave her a
repeat of my first performance, sucking her clit and licking all over her
pussy lips.  Knowing how she liked that pressure way up inside her, I tried
adding a finger, but I couldn't get it in her enough to reach her cervix.
She obviously liked what I was doing though.  She told me so.

   "Oh yeah, Bobby ...  mmmmmm ...  yeah ...  oh fuck that feels good!" She
bucked and panted while I tried to bite her clitty again.  "Fuck I wish I'd
known you were this good back in high school," she whined, as she had an
orgasm.

   Talk about building a guy up.  I felt like I was on top of the world.  I
didn't even care if I had to jack myself off after hearing that.  I mean
the inference was clear.  If she'd known, we would have done this a long
time ago.  She made me feel good!

   I wanted some more of those kisses when she went limp this time, and I
worked my way up her body again, stopping at her breasts, of course.  Her
hands came to play with my hair as she made more of those noises I was
loving so much.  She pulled at my hair gently, and I went up her throat and
over her jaw, to find her lips waiting for me.

   She sucked her juices off my lips and licked my cheeks.

   "You're scratchy.  You need a shave," she said between licks.

   "Sorry," I said into her mouth.

   I shifted my knees, so I could get to her mouth a little better and,
like magic, I felt the head of my prick enveloped by heat.

   We both froze, our lips together.  The urge to push forward was so
overpowering that I felt my whole body shake with the effort it took not
to. I knew I should get it out of her.  This wasn't part of the bargain. 
But just like I couldn't let myself push in ...  I couldn't pull out
either.

   Her hands had tightened on my hair, and they relaxed now.  I pulled my
face back.  Her green eyes were looking at me.  You know how, in some of
those old movies, one of the characters rolls his eyes really fast, when
he's scared or something?  Mine were probably doing that.

   "Uhhhhh," I groaned.  I was unable to say real words.

   We just stared at each other.  Her hands dropped to my shoulders, just
resting there lightly.  My hips went sideways as I made a supreme effort to
jerk it out of her.  It should have been easy.  Only the head was in her.
But instead of taking it out, my hips let another inch go in.

   "Uhhhhhnng," I panted.

   "It's in me, Bobby," she whispered.

   "Sllllungh," I gasped.  It was supposed to be, "Sorry."

   I felt something squeeze the tip of my cock.  It was exquisite.  I'd
never held just the tip of my prick inside a girl before.  To be honest, it
had always been pretty much wham, bam, thank you ma'am before.  I wasn't
proud of it, but I at least admitted it.

   "You want to fuck me," she said, her voice very breathy.

   Her hands slid from my shoulders to my back.  Then she pulled them away
and put them under my arms.  I knew she was going to "help me" ...  to push
me out.  I was perfectly willing to do that.  I just couldn't do it by
myself.  That was all.

   She slid her hands down my sides to my hips.  I felt the nail of each
thumb press into the sensitive skin on the front of my hips.  I gathered
every ounce of strength in my body, knowing I needed to jerk it out
quickly.

   Then I felt the nails on the rest of her fingers dig into my butt.

   She pulled.

   She didn't jerk hard or anything.  She just pulled instead of pushing.
It was agony, because my muscles knew they weren't supposed to go that way.
The result was that she got another inch ...  and then a little more ... 
and then another inch, until my resolve was assaulted by the fact that she
wanted me IN her ...  not out.

   My muscles relaxed all at once, and I sagged, at least in the middle.

   Just like that, I was buried in her hot, clasping pussy.  The tip of my
prick poked what my finger hadn't been able to reach earlier.

   "Oh fuck yes," she groaned.  Her hips wiggled.  Her breasts started
heaving, just like I had imagined they might.

   Her fingernails were still almost puncturing the flesh of my butt.  I
couldn't pull back, like I was used to.  But I had to move.  My mind was
like the center of a nuclear burst, all yellow and white and hot.  So I
just lunged upward and then fell back.  I wasn't actually moving in her
more than half an inch, but the base of my cock rubbed over her clit and
the tip of my cock pressed hard into that rubbery knot, deep inside her.

   "OhfuckBobbyIloveyou!" she squealed in my ear, running the words
together.

   If I had felt good before, I was insane with joy now.  My prick was
fully in her and I was fucking her, and she said she loved me.

   I think I might have gone just a little bit nuts, then.  I know her
fingernails never left my butt, because I had eight little scabs on my
backside the next day, but I didn't feel the pain.  I lunged and rubbed and
went sideways, doing anything I could to get her pussy walls to rub against
my prick.  Later on I would learn that I didn't have to do that.  Her pussy
would have milked sap out of a wooden dildo.  But, I was also later to
learn, my movement buffeted her cervix, and that was what made her happier
than anything else.  When she had an orgasm from her cervix being abused,
that was her favorite kind of orgasm, and when she felt that, she wanted it
to last as long as possible.

   That's why, when my brain screamed that I was about to inseminate a
woman who had plainly told me she was fertile, that all that effort I had
aimed toward pulling out of her came back in a rush.

   I could have done it.  I know I could have.  I was elated ...  so happy
that I knew pulling out of her would make her happy, and that would make ME
happy.  The only problem was that when she had a cervical orgasm her legs
came into play.  And her legs were crossed over my butt about the time that
I went to pull out.

   I got half way out and then her legs slammed me right back in as my
prick fired off one of those thick ropes of cum that would have gone three
feet in the air if I was lying on my back.  It couldn't go three feet any
which way, though, because the tip of my prick was pushed squarely into the
puckered mouth of her cervix.

   I felt the second spurt lance out of me right about the time she
screamed.  It was a primal sounding kind of scream that emptied her lungs
and almost deafened me.  She dragged in a rasping breath as I fired my
third shot into her womb, and I winced, mentally, knowing I might be deaf
in that ear for a while.

   But this time, all that air came out in a litany of only two words
spoken over and over again.  They were: "Oh Bobby!" She said it eight or
ten times before she was out of breath and, as she dragged in another long
breath, her hips wiggled like they were trying to create the kind of
friction between her pussy and the base of my prick that might weld them
together for life.  Then there was another long string of "Oh Bobby!" all
connected without punctuation, as my balls pushed the last two available
spurts through my prick.

   She changed it up on me as her hands found my hair again.  She panted,
"Oh Bobby," and kissed me and then said "Oh baby." That went on long enough
that my prick shriveled.  It couldn't come out of her, because her legs
were still holding me tightly in her.  I didn't count.  I was interested in
those kisses, because they were filled with passion.  I'm estimating I got
fifteen or twenty of each, though, like there was a record playing in her
mind and it was skipping.

   Then, before the last one of those kisses, she pushed my face away
enough to make eye contact with me.  "I love you," she whispered.

   We were both a wreck.  She didn't want to let go of me, but eventually
the muscles in her legs gave out.  Then she tried to keep me on top of her
with her arms.

   "I'm crushing you," I panted.

   "I don't care," she panted back.

   "I'm not leaving," I said.

   She consented to roll sideways, her arms still around me, and we lay
that way.  We were both sweaty, but it didn't matter.  There had been other
body fluids involved.  Sweat just didn't seem like that big a deal right
then.  Her hair had fallen forward to cover her face as it lay on my
shoulder.  Neither of us said anything for a long time, as our breath got a
little slower, and a little slower, until we were breathing normally again.

   "We can't do that again," she said softly, from under her hair.

   I didn't say anything.  I didn't agree with that at all.

   "I mean it," she said.  "I've never let a man cum in me before ...  not
without a condom."

   "I can get condoms," I tried.

   "It wouldn't matter," she said.  "I never felt anything that good in my
life.  I wouldn't let you use them."

   "You can't just start having unprotected sex because you like how it
feels," I said.  "Especially if you're not going to do it with me."

   "Bastard," she moaned.  "You've ruined me."

   "Oh I have not!" I scoffed.  "Besides, you wouldn't let me out."

   "I knooooow," she moaned.  "I knew what was happening.  I just couldn't
stop!"

   "I know that feeling," I sighed.

   "We can't do this again, Bobby," she insisted.

   "OK." I sighed that time too.

   ===================================

   I awoke to the feeling of having my prick sucked.  That was another new
thing for me.  I thought I was dreaming at first, but when I rubbed my eyes
the feeling didn't go away.  I lifted my head.  I could tell by the light
coming in the window that it was still early ...  maybe six or six-thirty.

   "What are you doing?" I asked.

   "One more time," she said, after she pulled off with a sucking slurp.

   "No," I said.  "You were right.  It's too dangerous."

   "Don't fuck with me, Bobby!" she said.  I could tell she meant it too,
and I couldn't even point out that, grammatically speaking, she actually
wanted me to do exactly the opposite of what she'd just said.  I wondered
what had happened to all that resolve she'd had.

   My prick didn't know the difference, of course, and didn't understand
grammar anyway.  It reacted exactly as she wanted it to.  When it was
standing tall, she stood up on her knees.

   "I want to be on top," she said.  "That's the only way I could get that
feeling with the others." She straddled me.  "Some of the others," she
amended.

   She sank down on me and started rocking.  She had a bone crushing orgasm
within a minute.  I wasn't anywhere near ready to cum.  I was having too
good a time watching her and playing with her breasts.

   Then she went for another one.  And another one after that one.  By then
I was ready.

   "Get off," I gasped.

   "Just one more," she groaned, her hips flashing back and forth.

   "I'm gonna cum!" I croaked.

   "Don't!" she panted.  "I'm almost there!"

   "Ellen!" I choked.

   There wasn't anything I could do.  If she'd been a hair ahead of where
she was, I might have been able to hold it.  She stopped, in fact, and
leaned forward to hold herself up with her hands on my chest, about half a
second before I sent a rocket of jism into her pussy.  Her head was hanging
down and her hair had fallen forward so I couldn't see her face again.  She
felt that jet of semen, though, and her head came up enough that her face
pushed her hair aside.  Her green eyes bored into mine and she grimaced.

   Then I found out about those pussy muscles.  She didn't move a single
muscle that I could actually see.  Her face froze in that odd
grimace--halfway snarl and halfway grin.  But her inside muscles went
crazy, squeezing and milking and almost sucking.

   "AAAAAHHHHHHH!" I groaned as my balls bunched and another jet of spunk
shot out.

   "Oh Bobby," she sighed, her face melting back to normal.

   She sat there until I was drained.  We were both panting again.

   "I really wish I didn't love that feeling so much," she said, almost
conversationally, between breaths.

   She looked over at the clock on the nightstand.

   "I have to get to work!" she said.

   She halfway stood up, dripping my cum all over my shrunken prick and
pubic hair.

   "Sorry!" she said, pushing one of her hands between her legs to stop the
flow.  "You cum a lot." Again, it was like we'd done this a hundred times
and it was no big deal.  We were just buddies, discussing some aspect of
our personalities.

   I watched in disbelief as she found and pulled on her panties, without
going to the bathroom to let me drain out of her.  By the time she packed
that ass into her jeans I wanted to be hard again.  Everything shimmied as
she did that.  She picked up her bra and put it on almost magically.  Her
shirt followed and she looked around for the sandals she had been wearing
the night before.

   "Out there," I croaked.  "At least stay for a bowl of cereal."

   "Well hurry up then!" she yipped.  "It's a good thing it's Friday.  We
dress down at work on Fridays.  I can get away with the jeans."

   As I thought about how that would have been the perfect excuse for her
to leave much, much earlier -- to go home and get ready for work -- I
bounced out of bed.  I grabbed the gym shorts I usually wore to bed off the
dresser and pulled them on.

   She beat me to the kitchen and was filling two bowls with Honey Nut
Cheerios when I came in.  I got the milk out of the fridge.

   "We need to talk," I said.

   "No time," she shot back.  "Eat.  How's my hair?"

   "You're gorgeous," I said.

   "You're so sweet," she responded.

   "You can't just leave," I objected.  "Not after last night."

   "I have to get to work," she said around a mouthful of Cheerios.  There
was milk dripping out of the corners of her mouth.

   I wanted to be hard again.

   She rubbed at the drips and slammed the bowl down on the table.  It
sloshed over, but I didn't care.

   "Gotta run!" she said.  She stopped by on her way out for a quick kiss.
It was a very quick kiss.  "I love you," she said.

   I was sitting there, trying to figure out what was going on ...  what
had gone on ...  trying to make some kind of sense out of it.  My mouth was
full of Cheerios, but the noise of the front doorbell sounding, at the same
time as she opened the door, carried over the crunching.

   "Mom!  Dad!" Ellen said.

   "What are you doing here?" I heard a deep female voice.  Even if Ellen
hadn't said what she'd said I'd have recognized that voice instantly.  That
voice had reminded me a number of times what a screw-up I was.  With
something like horror I knew instantly that the woman who owned that voice
would know intuitively that I had screwed her daughter.

   "I came over for poker night last night," said Ellen.  "I forgot
something and had to come get it before I went to work."

   "Oh," said that voice that had brought such instant dread into my gut.
"Where's Bobby?"

   "He's in the kitchen," said Ellen brightly.  "I got him up.  I think he
has a hangover.  He's being very grouchy right now.  What are you guys
doing here?"

   "He's supposed to do our taxes today.  We wanted to get an early start."

   "So she could go spend our refund," said Ellen's father, whose voice I
also knew well.  Great.  As soon as her mother realized I'd porked her
precious daughter, her father would try to kill me.

   He stuck his head in the kitchen.

   "You OK, sport?" he asked jovially.  "Did you get cleaned out last
night?"

   If he only knew how cleaned out I was ...  and who had cleaned me out.

   I heard the tinkling laughter of Ellen's voice.  She stuck her head back
in the kitchen long enough to wink at me.

   "Be nice to him, Daddy," she said.  "He's going to take me to the Alan
Jackson concert."

   Her mother came into the kitchen and spied the spilled milk on the table
instantly.  She picked up a dishrag and wiped it up.

   "You live like a pig," she said, conversationally.  "And you know how I
hate all that drinking and betting nonsense.  When are you going to grow
up?"

   "I am grown up!" I groused.  "And this is MY house, so put a sock in
it!"

   I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder.  It wasn't really a warning, but I
could feel warning in it.

   "Don't talk to your mother like that," he said.  "I bet I could still
take you if it came right down to it."

   My sister laughed again.  "I TOLD you he was grouchy.  He stayed up too
late and didn't get enough sleep.  But don't worry.  I'm going to come over
here every poker night from now on, and make him go to bed at a decent
hour."

   They weren't looking at her, but I was, and she blew me a silent kiss.
She hugged our father from behind.

   "Besides, Daddy, he can't take you up on that bet.  After last night,
he's got nothing left to wager."

   The End
   
