Charlie and her friends play a game of poker, and the stakes are raised.
Warnings: Daddy kink, group sex, alcohol and weed consumption, no language like slut or whore
Listen to the audio recording of this story at instrasensual-education.com from Tuck Malloy, @instra_sensual
We get the gang together for a night of drinking and shooting the shit. Zeke, Cal, Max, Lou, and Parker are all in my tiny Toronto apartment, sitting around my dining table with a mix of drinks, cigarettes, and boisterous laughter. Zeke cracks open a beer bottle while arguing with Lou about what bar to go to tomorrow night. Max is rolling a joint and yelling at Parker for being a pussy who doesn’t smoke weed. Parker calls them a shithead. These are my friends, in all their cursing, shit-talking, rough-and-tumble glory.
“Hey, Charlie!” Cal calls over the noise.
I turn. “Yeah?”
“Do you have a deck of cards?” she yells. I nod and go to the living room bookshelf to search for them between Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold and the latest issue of Butch is Not a Dirty Word. My apartment is as gay as I can make it. There’s a pink and orange lesbian flag hanging above my TV, and a rainbow flag in the window. My two cats hide in the corner, away from the noise. Korra and Asami figurines face each other on my bookshelf. I have a wall of butch and lesbian art in the dining room, where I return with the deck of cards for Cal.
“Thanks, babe,” she chirps. She pulls the cards out and starts shuffling. Being called babe makes my heart stutter. I’ve had a crush on Cal for a while. To be honest, I’ve had a little bit of a crush on all of my friends.
I sit back down and pick up my black cherry White Claw—my “pussy drink”, as Max calls it. I don’t like beer or liquor, and they make fun of me relentlessly for it. I take it with a laugh, but truthfully, I wish I was a little tougher with my tastes, if for no other reason than to stop being called a pussy all the time by Max.
Music plays in the corner, an alternative playlist that Parker put together. The joint makes its way around the large mahogany table that was a fucking nightmare to get up the three flights of stairs, but thank God for my muscular butch friends.
“So what are we playing?” Zeke asks, passing the joint to Lou.
Cal grins. “Poker, of course.”
There are hoots and hollers. Zeke yells, “Oh fuck no! I’m broke as fuck!”
“Oh, come on,” Cal urges. “Twenty bucks.”
“Nah, dude, I’m out.” Zeke throws their hands up.
“Fuck, dude!” Cal says, biting her lip and thinking.
“We could just play for the joy of winning,” Lou suggests.
“Fuck no,” Max and Cal say at the same time. We laugh.
“There’s got to be some sort of stakes,” Cal says.
“We could play strip poker,” Parker suggests, in a husky voice from smoking his cigarette.
More laughter, hoots and hollers at this. I’m quiet, my heart pounding in my chest. I take a sip of my drink and swallow hard.
“I mean, I’m down. I don’t intend to lose,” Cal says confidently.
“Of course you are,” Max shoots back. “But I’m in too… I’ll beat your clothes off.”
Even I whoop at this. “Shots fired!” I yell.
“Damn, Max,” Zeke says. “You sound so confident. Too bad you’re gonna lose.”
A collective oooohh from the group.
“Nah, all you bitches are gonna lose,” Lou declares.
“Um, guys,” I begin. “I’ve… never played poker before.” My face flushes, not because I’m embarrassed I’ve never played poker, but because I’m imagining getting naked in front of my friends, and this whole scenario is turning me on.
“That’s all good!” Cal assures. “It’s easy. I’ll teach you.”
“Yeah, man, you can do it!” Zeke chimes in.
“Okay,” I agree, just to see Cal’s beautiful grin light up her face.
We readjust seats so that Cal is sitting next to me, and a little thrill goes through me. She leans over and starts explaining the basics of poker, and her cologne smells woodsy and earthy.
“Okay, so everyone is dealt a hand of five cards, and the most valuable hand wins.” I try to listen as she explains a royal flush, a straight flush, a flush, a straight, four of a kind, three of a kind, two pair, one pair, no pair.
“When you get your hand, you have the chance to exchange one to three cards, or four if your last card is an ace. Then, because we’re not playing with chips, just clothes—” She winks at this. “You can fold if you think you have a bad hand, and stay if your hand is worth betting on. Then everyone who stayed will reveal their hand, and the losers will take off a piece of clothing.”
We discuss as a group what counts as clothing. A pair of socks counts as one piece; a tie does not count as a piece. Lou, who came from work dressed in a full suit, pouts at this.
“Whatever, dude,” Zeke says, waving their hands. “You’re already wearing the most clothes of all of us.”
I laugh nervously, stuck in my own head. I take stock of everything that I’m wearing, bottom to top. Jeans, boyshorts, sports bra, button-up. That’s it. I have four pieces of clothing. I can lose four times before I’m naked. I take another drink, feeling a throbbing in my core, and I squeeze my legs together. This is veering very close to one of my fantasies, where I’m stripped naked on a table and have my pussy eaten by a group of butches.
“Are you ready?” Cal asks.
I swallow and take a breath. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
Cal deals everybody a hand and we peer at our cards. I have nothing, and I cautiously fold. Lou loses the round to Max and takes off his suit jacket. I finish off my drink and get up for another one, pausing in the kitchen to catch my breath, trying to will my racing heart to slow down a little.
I sit back down and ask Max to roll another joint. I want to be crossfaded for this. They roll it expertly and pass it down to me. “Thanks,” I say with a smile. Max is handsome, with broad shoulders, a wide dopey grin, black curly hair and piercing green eyes. They’re another one I’ve had my eye on. But they’re always calling me a pussy, and I don’t know how to get them to take me seriously.
I light up the joint and take a careful puff, because if I cough, Max will call me a pussy again. I pass it to Cal, and she takes a hit and passes it to Parker, shuffling the deck and dealing another round. This time I have a pair of queens, and I try to hide my smirk. I have a terrible poker face. I stay.
Lou has three twos, and it beats me. Fuck.
“Strip!” everyone yells, and my face flushes hot. I stand up, to cheers, and unbutton my shirt, pull it off my shoulders, and reveal my black sports bra. More cheers. I focus on breathing. I toss the shirt on the back of my chair and sit back down. As I sit, my clit rubs against my boyshorts, but I try to ignore the feeling.
A couple more rounds pass. Parker and Zeke both take off their shirts. Parker is wearing a sports bra, but Zeke isn’t, and I try not to stare at their dark brown nipples.
Cal deals us another hand. I have a pair of sevens and decide to risk it against Cal and Max. Max has a pair of tens and Cal has three sixes. That was stupid. I swallow and stand up to unbutton my pants, pulling them down my hips and legs to cheers and jeers from the group. Max pulls their shirt over their head, revealing their top surgery scars. My heart is beating out of my chest.
“Fuck,” I curse, taking a long swig of my drink.
“Oh, you’re doing well for a beginner,” Cal praises. “It was good to risk the pair.”
I sigh. I squeeze my thighs together, feeling exposed. The next round, I fold. Cal’s hand beats Lou’s, and he unbuttons his crisp white button-up to reveal a white t-shirt underneath.
“Oh, bullshit!” I yell to roars of laughter.
“Lou dressed well for this game,” Max laughs.
Sitting around in my underwear and bra is making me hot. I’m trying not to get turned on, but I can’t help it, stealing occasional glances to Zeke’s chest and looking around to half the room in their bras and binders. My friends are hot. I puff on the joint again, taking a deep inhale in the hopes of being able to handle this game better. I cough like a bitch, and Max calls me a pussy. God dammit.
“Fuck you, Max,” I manage to spit between coughs.
“You wish,” they tease, and even though it’s just shit-talk, it’s enough to distract me right now.
Cal deals the next hand, and I check my cards with my heart hammering in my chest. I have two queens. I exchange three cards, and get another queen back. This is a good hand. Shit.
It comes down to me and Max. I reveal my three queens with a smile. They put down their hand and it’s a 10, 9, 8, 7, and 6. I look at Cal, unsure which hand wins.
“It’s a straight,” she says. “Sorry, love. You lose.”
“Take it off!” Parker yells while Zeke and Lou cheer. I stand and pull my bra over my head, my small tits and hard nipples now on display for the room. I breathe hard, a mix of nervous, embarrassed, and turned on.
I fold every hand after that. The group teases me for it, pretending to pout that I won’t risk another hand. I watch Lou take off his socks and pants, sitting in his t-shirt and boxers. Max and Parker take off their jeans. Zeke isn’t taking too many risks, but eventually they lose their pants and sit shirtless in their boxers like me.
My mouth is dry—whether from the weed or from the distracting images sitting at my dining table, I don’t know. I lick my lips and take a few more sips from my drink, enjoying the gentle buzz that thrums in my body. Cal deals the next hand and I look at my cards. I have a 2, 5, 6, 8, and 9. I exchange the two and get some smirks from around the table.
“Confident?” Cal asks, dealing me a card. I check. It’s a seven. I think I have a straight. Shit. That’s worth betting on. I finally stay, and end up against Zeke, who hasn’t been taking many risks in this game either. We squint at each other, trying to guess the other’s hand. But I’m staying. There’s no way they can win.
I flip over my cards in triumph. Zeke grins at me, and I furrow my brow, looking down. Five cards, all hearts.
“What does that mean?” I ask Cal, confused.
“That’s a flush,” she answers. “It beats your straight. They win.”
No. No, no, no. Fuck. My cunt is throbbing. I can feel how wet I am. If I take off my boyshorts, everyone else will see too. I bite my lip.
The group is hooting and hollering as loud as ever now, yelling at me to “Take it off!” and “Get naked!” It makes me suddenly embarrassed. My face flushes with heat, and I can feel that my cheeks and ears are red. The pounding between my legs won’t stop.
“Are you shy, Charlie?” Parker asks gently, and I lock eyes with him, the hottie with the husky voice, sitting in his sports bra. He plays rugby and has the muscles to show for it. He could so easily pick me up and carry me to the bedroom, fuck me with his thick fingers… Fuck, I’m so turned on right now.
“No,” I shake my head. “Of course not.” I put on a confident face and stand up.
“Turn around for us, baby,” Parker instructs, and it makes my legs weak.
I obey, and slowly slide the boyshorts down my legs, bending down as I do, and I realize that my pussy is on display for Max across from me. I step out of the underwear, gently placing them on the chair. Then everyone’s hungry eyes are on me, looking me up and down, and I almost move to cover myself but resist the urge. I meet their lustful gazes and realize for the first time tonight that I’m not the only one enjoying myself right now.
I sit back down, squeezing my thighs together, feeling my wet folds slide against each other.
“Charlie…” Max says in a deeper voice than usual, staring me down from the other end of the table. “Are you wet?”
“What?” I blurt quickly. “No, of course not.”
“I think you’re lying,” they say dangerously, almost threateningly.
“No.” I lick my lips, breathing harder.
“I don’t believe you,” they push.
“Whatever, dude,” I say, trying to dismiss it. “Let’s just play.”
“Are we still playing?” Zeke asks Cal. “Now that Charlie is naked, how can she still play?”
“I have an idea,” Max interrupts. “Charlie can owe us sexual favors when she loses… and I think she wants to lose.”
My knees are trembling. “Max,” I say weakly.
“Oh fuck,” Lou says. “She’s getting turned on.”
“Lou,” I try to say, but it comes out as a whimper.
“Do you want that?” Cal asks me. I look at her, helpless, mouth dry.
“I—” I look at Max. My pussy is throbbing between my legs, clenching. “I…”
I do. I want that so badly.
“Look at you,” Max smirks. “You want it so bad, you’re speechless.”
I have to get it together. “Yes,” I blurt. “I want that. I mean, I’m okay with that.”
“Deal us up, Cal,” Max says smugly, looking right at me. I’m barely breathing. I take another drink.
I have a pair of twos. It’s an okay hand. I close my eyes, take a breath, and stay. I win the round, and Cal loses her shirt, finally. She’s not wearing a bra either, and I try not to stare at her perfect flat chest with perky pink nipples. I swallow.
I fold for the next couple of rounds, having nothing in my hand. When I have two pairs, I risk it. I’m up against Max, who smirks arrogantly at me. My clit twitches. I reveal my hand. Max has three of a kind. I try to breathe.
“You know what that means, sweetheart,” they say.
I’m throbbing in anticipation, waiting to see what sexual favor they want to ask of me.
“I’m thinking… sixty seconds of fingering. What do you think, baby?”
I nod slowly, mouth open. They stand, walk around to me, and bend me over the table. They squeeze my hips and ass to tease me, and tell someone to put a timer on. Max’s finger meets my wet slit and I gasp. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” they curse as they tease my opening.
I try to contain my sounds, but I whimper when their finger enters me. I can’t help it. Parker and Cal are on my left, staring wide-eyed at me as I get fingerfucked.
“Fuck,” I moan when Max hits a good spot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” So much for trying to be quiet. Christ.
The timer goes off. I whine when Max pulls their finger out of me.
“Good boy,” they say as they smack my ass.
I sit back down, taking a sip of my drink and checking my phone like I didn’t just get fingerfucked in front of five people. I try to catch my breath.
We keep playing. Cal defeats everyone with her bluffing and miraculous hands. She always knows when to call it. Eventually everyone is topless and in their boxers except for Cal, who is shirtless but still wearing her jeans. I’m the only person naked.
I lose another hand.
“Whatever shall we do with you?” Parker asks, looking around at the room. “Maybe a group activity?” he proposes. There are some nods. I gulp.
“I have a suggestion,” Zeke offers. “Why not blindfold her, we each get 30 seconds to eat her pussy, and she picks her favorite?”
My jaw drops. It’s so hot I can’t believe it. My pussy clenches at the thought.
“What do you think, pet?” Parker asks. I nod. He pushes me to the table. Zeke grabs a bandana from my flagging collection—white velvet for voyeurism and exhibitionism. How fitting. They tie it around my eyes and pin my body down. Their hands on me feel hot. A timer starts and someone’s hot, wet mouth is on my pussy, eating me up, and I scream in delight. I try to reach for their hair, for something to grab onto, but the hands push me back down.
“You can’t touch them,” someone says. “It might help you guess who’s who.”
Being pinned down makes it so much hotter. I hear the timer go off, and hands rotate while someone swaps out between my legs. This person goes slower and deeper and it hits the right spot and I moan. The next person goes fast and hard, and I pant “Too much!” and they slow down to just the right pace. Then the next person tries slow circles and I jerk my hips in pleasure, pulling against the arms holding me down.
The final person eats my pussy and it’s perfect, the best yet, with firm, sure strokes on my swollen clit. I’m so close from being on display and teased and eaten out. I grind my hips against their tongue and gasp “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” until I cum on their face, right as the timer goes off, and they continue eating me out as the waves of pleasure hit me over and over.
“Them,” I pant, still blindfolded. “They’re my favorite.” The crowd laughs and says it’s unfair, they went last.
I sit up and take the blindfold off, and Max is standing between my legs, licking their lips and wiping my cum off their chin.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I’ve been attracted to Max since we met. I’ve fantasized about them. And I just came on their face.
“Did you like that, love?” they ask me, quirking a smile.
I nod breathlessly, naked on the table.
“So what’s next?” Cal asks. “Are we still playing?”
“I’m having fun,” Max grins.
“Then I’ll deal us out,” she says, and everyone sits down again casually, as if nothing happened and we’re not all sitting around the table naked or half-naked. I love it.
I decide that my goal is to get Cal’s pants off. When she deals me a pair of sevens, I stay. Everyone else folds and it’s just me and Cal. I beat her ace high.
“Pants off!” I holler. The group cheers and Lou yells, “Take it off, baby!”
I watch Cal take her jeans off. I hope I don’t look as thirsty as I feel right now, but I’m mesmerized, watching her take her belt off, unbutton, unzip, and—oh my god—pull out a hard packer and harness set. Holy fuck.
“You’re hard packing?” I hear myself ask.
“Obviously,” she answers with a quirked eyebrow. She pulls her pants off.
Her dildo is a teal silicone piece, curved and medium-sized. I think about how I want to be fucked by that toy and try to breathe through the heat rising to my skin.
“Something wrong?” she asks.
“Nope.” I clear my throat.
I want to lose the next round—be dared to suck her cock, or take it. It’s all I can think about as my pussy swells and throbs.
So I do. My next hand is garbage, but I bluff against Lou and Max. Lou wins with two pairs. Max stands up to take off their boxers and I try not to stare at their naked body.
“Charlie,” Lou instructs. “I want you to fuck yourself on Cal’s cock for 60 seconds… with your hands tied behind your back.” I swallow as a thrill runs through me. Lou grabs the white velvet bandana and I obediently let him tie my hands.
Cal leans back in her chair and looks me up and down, licking her lips at the sight of me. I hover myself over her cock and she holds it still with one hand, guiding my hip with her other.
“Oh, fuck!” I moan loudly at the delicious sensation of being filled, and I bounce up and down on her cock, taking advantage of every second. The triple pleasure of being fucked, watched, and tied up is overwhelming, making me sensitive.
The sensations start to build in my clit and I pant “Yes, yes, yes,” as the timer goes off, and then I whine, “Nooo…”
The group chuckles at my whining.
“Please,” I ask Cal, my hips still as I cockwarm her. “Please, can I cum on your cock?”
“Asking like a good boy,” she praises. “What do we think fellas? Can she cum on my cock?”
“I don’t know…” Zeke says.
“I think she needs to beg for it more,” Max adds.
“I agree,” Cal says. “Beg for it, baby.”
“Fuck. Please, Cal. Please. Please let me cum on your cock.” I grind my hips.
“Good boy,” Max praises, and it makes me blush.
“Fuck, Max,” I pant. “Call me that again.”
They walk over to me, wrap their hand around my throat—not choking, just holding me steady—and my whole body flushes with heat. They murmur in my ear, “Good boy.”
“Please,” I ask, looking Cal in the eye. The pleasure is building more. I want to have permission to cum before it’s too much. “Please, Cal. Please.”
“No,” Cal tells me, and that’s a big problem, because it turns me on a lot.
“Fuck,” I moan. “Please. Please, I’ll be a good boy for you. Please, Cal.”
“No,” Cal says, more threateningly. Fuck.
“Please, Cal. Please, I’m so close. Please.”
“So good at begging,” she says, watching me ride her cock with a smug face.
“Yes. So good for you. Please let me cum,” I beg. The restraints and Max’s hand on my throat and being fucked in front of a crowd is starting to get to me, and I’m getting closer.
“Call it my butch cock,” Cal instructs.
“Fuck,” I pant. “Fuck me with your butch cock. Oh, fuck. Cal. Please, can I cum on your butch cock? Please?”
“Good boy,” Max murmurs in my ear, and it’s a dirty trick that brings me even closer to the edge, and I don’t have permission yet.
Cal growls, gripping my hips and fucking up into me and I moan. I glance over to Parker, Zeke, and Lou, who are watching us with rapt attention, and it makes me hot to watch them watching me.
“Do you like watching me get fucked?” I ask them boldly.
They nod, and Parker says yes.
“Do you want to watch me cum?” I ask.
They all say yes. My cunt is dripping on Cal’s thighs.
“Please, Daddy, please can I cum?” I beg, and I don’t notice that I say “Daddy.”
“Now that’s a good boy,” Cal praises. “Yes, baby, you can cum.”
The permission takes me right to the edge, and I gasp “Yes, yes, yes!” as the pleasure builds and builds, repeating myself like a broken record, eyes closed, fucking myself hard on the teal cock until finally, I’m there—and I cry “Ohhh!” as I shake and tremble on her cock, cumming in quick, pulsing waves, pulling at the restraint of the bandana on my wrists, Max’s hand tight on my throat.
That’s how my group nickname becomes “Daddy”.
It makes me wet every time they use it.
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