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Black Jack

The last card hits the table and I cringe. We are playing black jack, the first one to loose five hands gets naked and I am already down two. As I sit here in my socks my boxers and wife beater, I wonder how I always get myself into these situations. I always choose the game and I always end up naked. Last week it was poker the week before that it was rummy. I will probably be go fish next week. Always the same story; I always end up the sex slave; I am always the one going down on her. Just once I want her to make my toes curl, for her to feel that gag reflex kick in. That card was a king and off come my socks. I deal the next hand, a seven and a five, and begin to think it is a respectable start. She has a three on top. I take a hit, another damn king, off comes the wife beater. I begin to wonder what she is cooking up in that twisted little head of hers. Last time she tried some s&m, pulled a collar, leash and whip out of a bag. I told her I wasn’t doing that again. She picks up the deck and begins to deal. I am sitting pretty with a pair of tens; she has an ace on top. I start to think I might get her out of her shirt before I come out of my boxers. She asks me if I would like a hit, and with a big grin I say no, she doesn’t take one either, oh shit. I flaunt my pair. She turns over her jack, 21. Damn. I stand up to take off my boxers and she tells me to wait. What is going through that twisted little head of hers? With a confident stride she moves over to the cd player. Music starts. “How’d you like to make some money tonight?” She reaches for her bag, it’s not the little bag she had last week, but a big full size suitcase. Fix me a drink and put this on.

I go into the kitchen mumbling to myself about how I get into these situations. I fix her a rum and coke, and take a shot of tequila. Then I look in the bag, where does she get this stuff? I come back into the room, and she has been hard at work. The cards have been cleaned up and the coffee table is pushed over against the wall, she was sitting in a chair naked as the day she was born. To fulfill her fantasy I do a little role play “Did someone call about fire?” I asked her “Yeah Mr. Fireman, the fire’s right here” she said as she slapped herself on her already wet pussy. With her free hand she picked up the remote and changed cds “Don’t stop get-it get-it…” started blasting through the speakers, and I started to dance. The more I danced the more respect I had for the exotic dancers of the world. I found it impossible to do what I wanted to do in a full fireman’s uniform. I took off the helmet and tossed it aside. Next I slowly unbuttoned the coat. She fans herself when she sees my six-pack. The pants are break-away (she thinks of everything!!!) so they come off quickly. I find dancing much easier in the boots and g-string. The song ends and she picks up the remote again. The music changes my movements change to match the new tempo. “Mr. Fireman, how about you come put this fire out now?” she says in her phone sex voice. I am relieved that I have finished my dancing obligation, drop to my hands and knees and crawl over to her. The first thing I reach is her foot, so I pick it up and begin to suck her toes. My kisses lead up her foot and continue up the back of her leg. I felt her thigh muscles tighten as I passed her knees. There is a spot on the inside of her thigh that gets her every time. I stopped to kiss it and her legs opened wider. My ear became wet as it brushed against her lips. The kisses continued upward, the further I went the thicker the trail of wetness became. When I was almost at its source I stopped and skipped up to her waist. Her hips which had risen to meet my lips sunk back into the chair.

She put both her hands on my bald head, and tried to press my head where she wanted it, but her petite frame was no match for my bulk. Technically I was the slave in this scenario, but tonight things were going to go the way I wanted them to. After several kisses around her waist I tickled her belly button with my tongue; then continued my upward path to the spot between her breasts. I kissed the inside of the left breast and then the inside of the left. I nudged the left nipple with my nose then kissed it. Her nipples hardened and she began to moan. Her hands began looking for the wet spot I had ignored earlier, but like I said, tonight we do things my way. I took both her hands in mine and continued with the left breast. She squirmed beneath me and her breathing changed I knew she was climbing towards an orgasm, but I would not let her get there without my consent. When I knew she couldn’t take it anymore I released her hands. I switched from the left nipple to the right and with my now free hand I begun to lightly stroke her wet lips. She tried to tug at my g-string but it wasn’t time for that yet. I tried to stop her from getting to my rock hard dick but she ripped them off. It stood at full attention now that it was free of the leather cloth. I asked her if that was what she wanted, she moaned yes.

I stepped back to pull her up to her feet. Once we were both standing I kissed her long and hard. She took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. I expected her to lie down on the bed and assume the position, but she sat me down in a chair. Not a big soft overstuffed chair like she was sitting on in the family room, but hard wooden chair that was supposed to be in the dinning room. She reaches into yet another bag and pulls out not one but two pairs of handcuffs. She cuffs each of my hands to the chair, and whispers in my ear “just because you are the slave doesn’t mean you have to do all the work. She drops to her knees and gives me head. She brings me to the point where I am just about to cum, then stops and climbs on top of me. She rides me and I play with her nipples. Just when I am about to cum again she gets off and changes direction so that her back is to me. Just when I think it is starting to feel good, she puts her hands on the floor. She finally let me nut. She turned around and asked “Are you up for a game of Uno?”

To be continued


End of Story