Strip Poker Read online

  Strip Poker

  By Sara Desmarais

  ISBN 978-1-365-88659-1

  © 2017 by Sara Desmarais

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and indigents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Sometimes a couple needs a man to take charge.

  Other books by Sara Desmarais

  A Change in Our Marriage

  Room and Board

  Mother-in-Law's Visit

  Short Stories

  The Photo Shoot

  He's the Bride

  The Exam

  The New Husband

  The Sissy Pilot

  A Couple’s Submission

  The Virgin Bride

  The cabins were just as we remembered them from our first vacation together three years ago in college, secluded, in a heavily wooded area bordering the state park. We were newlyweds, on our honeymoon, totally in love, eager to revisit the place where we’d fallen in love those years ago. The wedding was small, just a few friends and family; we never believed in spending a fortune just to feed work colleagues, distant relatives, and casual friends. We finally got on the road after nine, drove the two and a half hours to the cabin, arriving just after midnight.

  There were four cabins on the property, spread over the ten acres, three for guests, and one for the property owner, an older man, in his late forties (older than us, anyway, Nichole and I were both in our mid 20’s) different than the couple that owned the cabins the last time we visited.

  The new owner, Richard Thompson, was kind enough to wait up for us, knowing we had been to the cabins before and that we were newlyweds. We called when we were about ten minutes from the property so he could meet us at our cabin with the keys, and found him waiting in his truck our front when we drove up. As I pulled our small car up to his truck, which dwarfed it, he climbed out and down, and we saw the new owner for the first time. He was a tall, muscular man, dressed in blue work pants, boots, and a short sleeved button down shirt, leaving his black hair covered arms bare. He was almost a caricature with his chiseled jaw, the hair on his chest and arms, the broad shoulders.

  “Mr. Thompson,” I smiled to him as I got out of the car, still wearing my tuxedo, feeling oddly inadequate. I was a good five inches shorter than him, fifty plus pounds lighter, most of that his muscles compared to my slight frame.

  “Jason,” he waived, taking my hand and shaking it with a firm grip, not hard, but it was obvious he could crush my hand if he wanted to.

  “I…I really appreciate you waiting for us,” I said nervously.

  “My pleasure, Jason, my pleasure. You’re newlyweds, after all, you’re entitled to some special treatment,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, which was black, save for a white streak at each temple. His thick mustache was the same, black, with a touch of white at each end, the kind of mustache I could never grow even if I had a million years.

  “We really do appreciate it,” Nicole said from over my shoulder, getting out of the car. I looked over at my bride, again amazed how lucky I was to be married to such a beautiful young woman. Nicole was kind of geeky when we met our freshman year of college, but over the next couple of years she had blossomed into a stunning young woman. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was now my wife, and looked as radiant as any bride in her satin tea length strapless gown.

  “You both look so nice,” he said with a laugh when we stood in a little group, Nicole and I holding hands. “So formal…why don’t you pop the trunk and head inside while I grab your bags for you.”

  “I…I can get them,” I said.

  “No, you take care of your beautiful bride, Jason, I’ll take care of the heavy lifting,” he insisted, intentional or not, making me feel weak and helpless.

  Regardless, we thanked him and headed up to the cabin, passing the hot tub on the covered porch as we walked in. The cabin was just as we remembered it, designed like a log cabin, but with modern all the modern features of a luxury hotel—heat, air, full kitchen, tiled showers, granite, etc. The great room was dominated by a large fireplace and a large window overlooking the woods.

  “Back here okay,” Mr. Thompson asked, walking in behind us carrying all four bags like they were nothing.

  “You really didn’t have to, Mr. Thompson,” Nicole said pulling me to follow him to the bedroom.

  “Nonsense,” he said, easily moving the suitcases through the cabin, my one and three for Nicole, “it’s my pleasure. Now where would you like them, the big two over here, I assume,” he set two down between the closet and the dresser.

  “That’s perfect,” Nicole said, “and the little one in the bathroom and the other one just on the bed is fine.”

  He was closest to the bathroom, so set her bag there, first, then started towards the bed to set the last bag down. The bedroom, like the rest of the cabin, had wood floors with area rugs. There was one such rug in the bedroom, by the foot of the bed, and it was the edge of this rug that caught his foot as he walked towards the bed, causing him to stumble forward. Mr. Thompson reached out for the dresser, to steady himself, dropping Nicole’s suitcase in the process, which hit the floor with a thud and burst open spilling out its contents all over the floor.

  Lingerie. Scattered about the floor was my new bride’s lingerie, things I’d never seen before, things she received as gifts at her shower or bachelorette party. Silk and satin baby dolls and chemises and panties and hosiery. Literally the most beautiful things I’d ever seen, all spilling out of her suitcase, all over the floor at the feet of Mr. Thompson, my bride’s lingerie, all there at his feet, all there for him to stare at.

  “Oh, my,” he said with an amused tone as out of the corner of my eye I saw Nicole’s shock and embarrassment.

  “Ohhh,” I gasped, humiliated to have our host staring at my bride’s honeymoon lingerie, and immediately, I dove for the floor and started to scoop up the lingerie and shove it back, haphazardly, into the bag.

  “You missed one,” I heard Mr. Thompson say and as I looked back over my shoulder, I saw he was right, that he had a white satin and lace baby doll in his hands, was holding backwards in his large hands by the spaghetti straps, out towards Nicole, framing her body with it, obviously picturing her wearing it.

  “Thank you,” Nicole said, blushing as she reached out to take it from him.

  “Prettiest one of the bunch,” he smiled at her, “perfect for a beautiful bride on her wedding night—sexy but sophisticated, demure, innocent.” I was on my knees, watching them, the rest of Nicole’s lingerie in my hands, and felt an awkward, uncomfortable sense of emasculation, a sense that Mr. Thompson was smirking at me, laughing inside at me has he handed my bride the last of her lingerie. “Well, I better let you two get to, um, well,” he looked down at me, “you know, I’ll be around tomorrow if you need anything.”

  He let himself out, leaving Nicole and I there, me still on my knees, her looking down at me, the silence between us quickly becoming awkward, neither one of us quite sure what to say, what to think. Finally, I had to break the silence, had to say something. “He’s right, it…it’s the prettiest one.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, looking at the door where he had walked out.

  “What?”

  “You’re right,” she said, looking down at me, blushing, “he’s right, it…it’s what I was going to wear tonight.”

  “Was?”

  “I…I know it’s our wedding night, Jason, I’m just so tired. I mean, we can if you want to, if you really want to, but…I’d really rather wait till tomorrow if it’s all right with you.”

  I sighed, somehow this wasn’t un
expected, it was late and we’d had a long day and Nicole needed the right mood and the mood, without question, had been broken.

  “Nikki, I…I thought we’d…you know…”

  “You know I want to Jason, I just thought the first time I…” She blushed, she was so cute. “The…the first time I did that as a married woman should be special, not when I’m exhausted. I could still wear something pretty.” She held the baby doll up to her body much like Mr. Thompson had, just closer, and I imagined her just like he had. Of course it was more erotic seeing my bride do it than some strange guy! “Tomorrow night, okay? Tomorrow night I can…we can…you know…do it for the first time as a…married.”

  **********

  We were going to spend the day hiking, so after a leisurely breakfast we dressed for the day. I wore a pair of khaki cargo hiking shorts, technical teeshirt, wool socks, and boots. Nicole dressed similarly, but much obviously much prettier, cuter than I—her hiking shorts were shorter and tighter, showing off her her long legs and her leaving her ass all but perfectly on display, and her top hugged her firm breasts and her trim waist. “Whoa,” I said when she came out of the bedroom, “someone’s going for the sexiest hiker ever award.”

  Nicole blushed. “It’s just us, I thought you’d like it Mr. Morris.”

  “Oh, I do, Mrs. Morris,” I said, “but maybe we should, you know, forget about hiking.”

  “Tonight, Mr. Morris,” she giggled, “I promise…I think you’ll find it more exciting after spending the day taking in the sights.” She might have meant nature, the forest around us, but she obviously meant her body, too.

  “Damn, Nicole, where’s this coming from?”

  She bit her lip, looked down, “I guess the whole being married thing is just putting me in a mood. I’m sorry about last night…I guess…I don’t know…I’m kind of…you know…”

  “Fuck, Nikki, I’m tempted to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom right now.”

  “Big talk, Mr. Morris,” she said, “come on, later, really.”

  We grabbed our packs, headed out, started down the driveway to the trail that looped through the property, led deeper into the forest. We were just passing the last cabin, Mr. Thompson’s, when his door opened and he stepped out. He was dressed similar to yesterday, work pants, a different colored sleeved shirt, boots, rugged, tough. “Hey there, newlyweds,” he grinned, “fine looking morning, isn’t it?”

  “Good morning Mr. Thompson,” Nicole smiled. I nodded back, saw his eyes bore in on Nicole, knew she was part of what he meant by a fine looking morning.

  “I wondered if I’d see you two today or if you’d spend all day in the cabin,” he said with an exaggerated grin, overtly looked Nicole up and down. “I’d have voted for the cabin if I was your new husband, guess he got that out of his system last night, though.”

  “Mr. Thompson,” Nicole blushed. I balled my fists, but said nothing.

  “Sorry, kidding, just kidding, some guys need more time to, er, recharge, if you know what I mean.”

  I opened my mouth to defend myself, but realized it was pointless, perhaps foolish. We were guest in the woods, the only people here right now besides Mr. Thompson, it was stupid to pick a fight with him. And he was just teasing, a bit cruel, but still.

  “Seriously, you kids know where you’re going, you have a map?”

  “We do,” I said, “I planned it all out.” If I wasn’t going to defend myself to his sexual barb, I at least felt like I had to defend my hiking competency.

  “Good. There’s no one else out here this weekend, so you should have all the trails to yourself—no need to worry about running into any guys out on a buddy weekend hitting on your bride. No bear activity lately, so you’re good on that, too, but still watch yourselves, okay.”

  “We will, Mr. Thompson,” Nicole said, took my hand, “I’m sure Jason has everything thought out.”

  “Well, you kids have a good day, stop by when you get back so I know everything went okay.”

  We said we would, started into the woods.

  “He…he’s creepy,” I said to Nicole when I was sure we were out of earshot.

  “Creepy? Jason, stop, he’s nice,” she said, typical Nicole, she found everyone nice.

  “He was checking you out, Nikki.”

  “He was not,” she said, “he’s just being friendly.”

  “He was totally checking you out,” I insisted.

  “Like guys don’t check out girls all the time,” she said. “Besides, you should be proud, I’m your wife, after all.”

  “I suppose,” I frowned, “but he was leering.”

  “Sweetie, stop, it was nothing…besides, what’s wrong with a guy finding me attractive, it…it’s flattering.”

  “Flattering,” I said, half shocked. “Nikki, he…he’s some creepy old guy leering at a young woman.”

  “Jason, he’s not that old…and he’s attractive…in a rugged sort of way, it isn’t like he’s eighty, fat, and ugly!”

  I’m sure she meant it innocently, but I didn’t take it that way.

  “You think he’s hot?”

  “Jason, stop,” she said softly, “he’s…”

  “What?” I insisted. “Seriously, Nicole, you think he’s cute.”

  “Honey,” she took my hand again, “I meant he’s attractive the way a rugged, masculine guy’s attractive, I didn’t mean anything by it, really, I didn’t mean to make you jealous…he’s not the one I’m going to put on pretty lingerie for later tonight.” She leaned into me, kissed my ear. “I brought stockings and a garter belt,” she said starting to walk away and looking over her shoulder. “Just think about that when you’re walking behind me staring at my ass.”

  **********

  The day was beautiful, the forest was beautiful, and yes, so was Nicole—I spent a good part of the hike staring at her legs and ass just as she spent a good part of the day trying to tease me with them. By lunch, I’d forgotten about Mr. Thompson and his leering at my bride, I was too busy leering myself. And too busy thinking about the kissing we did after eating our sandwiches.

  In fact, I’d forgotten all about everything except finally fucking my bride on the way back in, forgotten that is, until we were coming upon Mr. Thompson’s cabin and we saw him sitting out on the back porch. He was “cleaned up”, still wearing rough close, working class man’s clothes, but his blue pants looked pressed, his short sleeved shirt too. “Well there’s my pretty bride and her new husband,” he raised his coffee mug to us. “Found your way back okay, I see.”

  “We did,” I said defensively. “I told you we know how to hike.”

  “Never doubted it,” he smiled. “I just like to keep a sharp eye on my guests, that’s all.”

  “We appreciate it Mr. Thompson,” Nicole said in her friendly manner.

  “Say, I know you wanted to be left alone last night,” he winked, “your wedding night and all…but I thought I’d have you over for a drink after you shower and clean up, dinner too.”

  Fuck, was there no escaping this guy. “I appreciate it Mr. Thompson, but we…you know…”

  “Come on, I’m sure you got that out of your system last night, besides, I won’t keep you too long, just in case. Remember, a meal comes with the honeymoon package…I have some steaks set out, ready to go on the grill.”

  “Again, I appreciate it, but…”

  Nicole pulled me towards her, “it’s okay Jason, he’s just being polite.”

  I looked at her, surprised. “I thought you wanted to…”

  “I do,” she said, “but he’s already got things planned, it will just be for a bit…besides we have to eat.” That was my bride, polite to a fault.

  “Nikki, I…”

  She pulled me closer still, whispered in my ear. “I’ll wear thigh highs under my skirt,” she said, “you can think about me the whole time.”

  “You sure?” I asked, perking up.

  “Well,” Mr. Thompson prompted, obviously seeing where this was
going.

  “We’ll be happy to come over for dinner, Mr. Thompson,” Nicole answered for us.

  “Well that’s just great,” he stood up, “an hour should give you time to clean up, right?”

  “Yea,” I said.

  “Are we…should be bring anything? I mean, we don’t have anything ready, really, I…we have a bottle of wine.”

  “No, no, I mean, bring the wine,” he said, “but besides that your company is good enough.”

  **********

  45 minutes later, Nicole was standing in the bedroom in a short pleated skirt, a short sleeved tight satin blouse, and heels. “Damn, Nicole, I…I don’t want to go,” I said, coming up to her, reaching for her.

  “Stop, Jason,” she said playfully, slapping my hand away. “I want to be touched, just…not yet…” She spun around, showed off the outfit, as the did, the skirt flared and I caught a glimpse of the lace tops of her nude thigh highs. “It…it’s a little short, I planned on wearing it just for you, but it’s not too bad. I’ll just have to be careful when I sit.”

  “If you’re not careful, he going to get quite the show.”

  “The show’s for you, Jason, after, I…I can change if you want.”

  “No, no, that’s okay,” I said, actually somewhat proud of how sexy my wife looked. Fuck it, why not show off what I had, show off the woman I’d be making love to after dinner. I stood, took her hand, “no reason I shouldn’t show you off just a little,” I said. Nicole’s eyes fluttered, she sucked in her breath, what the fuck? “Nikki?” It dawned on me, she was actually excited. “Nikki!”

  She blushed, “sorry Jason, I…this is kind of naughty, isn’t it.”

  “You’re turned on!”

  “A…a little,” she looked away, “I…I feel pretty and…well…”