Bet Your Ass

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Max’s thighs were bigger than both of Yuri’s legs put together, the sculpted limbs spattered with a thin layer of blonde hair. He wore a pair of white briefs beneath, but they did little to hide the completely erect organ beneath them. Staring at the manhood straining against the underwear, Yumi let out a little moan under her breath. All of him was big; she could see that now clearly. Much bigger than the man she’d given her virginity to, much bigger than any man she’d ever giggled or blushed over. Her mouth was dry at the sight, but her undies were saturated with her lubrication. Her sex gave an involuntary spasm of longing, a gasping plea of wanting to be filled by that monstrous organ.

The fabric where the head of his impressive member was so gratuitously outlined was wet, evidence of his excitement and aching. Her body trembled at the thought, and she felt her soul lift up triumphantly. She had him! There was no way he could beat her now. The forty dollars was hers, and she would get to see that glorious sex without the annoying scrap of underwear blocking her view. Elated, Yumi taunted him. “Still want to continue?” She purred, leaning across the table. She mimed the way he’d done to her earlier, whispering against his mouth. Yumi felt like a wanton woman, but it felt good. Her inexperience didn’t matter now. She felt liberated, empowered, naughty and triumphant. In a bold move, she leaned forward and licked his mouth with a quick dart of her little pink tongue. “I’ll let you back out now.”

“Not on your life,” Max growled, staring up into her hazel eyes with every emotion he felt at the moment. “I plan on having you, out in that garage. I’m going to fuck you in that convertible Mustang of Gillespie’s. I’m going to make you drench those seats when you come.” To punctuate his promise, he reached up and tweaked one of her nipples, the hardened bud rolling easily beneath his strong fingers where it strained against the cloth cup of her bra. She gasped loudly, her body bucking with the sensation that ripped through her like a jagged knife. “Sit down and let me deal.”

Yumi couldn’t believe it. She lost. Again, when it was so crucial. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she glanced over at Max. He was waiting smugly for her to choose, her bra or her panties. And now it put her equal again, and gave her no room to lose the last round. If she did, she was out the forty dollars, and she was going to be forced to give her body. With the way she felt at the moment, she was probably going to give her body to him anyways, but at least if she won it would be on her terms. But if she lost, it would give him license to take her where and how he wanted, forcing her to admit him as the better.

The bra was the lesser of the evils; she wriggled free of the straps and, closing her eyes for bravery, yanked the cups down and twisted the cloth around so she could undo the hook-and-eye closures. Free of their restraints, the small globes of her breasts barely sagged. When she opened her eyes, she was standing down at them, the mounds the same golden shade as the rest of her, their crests proudly standing in puckered and bold relief out from her body. The buds were dark pink, almost a maroon, and thick compared to the small mounds they crowned. Yumi didn’t even look up to see Max’s reaction to this humiliation. Her body announced for her that she was intensely aroused. She reached for the cards, and prayed to whatever divine being inflicted this madness up on her to take up this bet that she won the final deciding factor. The final hand was Five Card Stud, winner takes all so no wild cards. She bit her lower lip, feigning disappointment, but inside she was screaming. Three Aces. She landed three Aces. Let’s see him top that, she grinned to herself. Slapping the cards down on the table, she snorted in victory. “Ha!” She snorted, triumph waving over her.

“Show me your hand.” Max’s blue eyes flicked from the hand she laid on the table, to the hand he clutched in his fingers. He smiled, slowly and deadly in his intent. Placing them one by one on the table, he revealed that she had not won at all. He had the deal of all deals, the million-to-one suit that crowned the top of the Poker rules. She had lost. The forty was forfeit, and she was his to do as she pleased. Her first reaction was to flee. Gathering up her clothing in a mad dash, Yumi prepared to flee for her room at the back of the house. She’d lock herself in, until this man and his bet were gone. She’d only taken three steps when he called lazily, “Do you want me to tell your guardian what bet you owe me, Yumi?” She stopped, going rigid, still wearing the panties she should have shed as her losing dictated. He moved behind her, quick as a cat, grabbing her wrist. “Bring your clothes to the garage with you, sweets,” he purred. “We can’t have Gillespie finding the evidence before I’ve had my way with you.” He gathered all his clothing and headed out into the garage. Yumi closed her eyes, drew in a ragged breath. His. She was his now, for whatever devious thoughts he had in mind. All she would have had to do was say “No” to his bet in the beginning, and she wouldn’t be in this situation.

But greed had trapped her, and now if she left, she was going to have to face her guardian and risk being sent back to Japan. Turning on her heel, she followed Max out to the garage, shutting the door behind her with a click. He had dumped his clothes in the front seat of the Mustang, and she did the same, piling them on top of his. Closing her eyes, she turned his way. “Okay, you won,” Yumi sighed in defeat. “Do what you want with me.” Her body was rigid, tingling. Despite her still-evident arousal, she was scared of what he might request of her, and she was trembling.

“Such a martyr,” Max chuckled. “Don’t worry, Yumi. I don’t like my women unwilling. Whatever I do to you, you’ll be begging me for it by the time I do it.” He gripped her chin in his hand, and kissed her on the mouth. The first kiss was soft, coaxing. It was meant to quell her fear somewhat and start her on the pathway to excitement. Those full lips were parting her own, his tongue slipping inside to taste her, touch her, and massage her. Yumi didn’t know how long the kiss went on. She couldn’t say when exactly she stopped resisting and started kissing back. She did know by the time they stopped to take a breath, her hands were coming up around his neck and she was crushing her body against his for the next kiss. Anticipation had heated their blood, and Max wasn’t about to waste all night savoring her and risk getting caught. He wanted her hot, but he wanted her frantic too. He had plans for the dusky-skinned little Asian he held in his arms, on the verge of leaving her teens but still quite the young and innocent beauty.

“Open your eyes, Yumi. Watch me, watch me.” He pressed her back against the door of the Mustang, getting to his knees. With her hazel eyes watching every move, he reached up and pulled her thighs apart. Looking up at her, he watched her pupil grow large, her body shudder with delight as he traced the crotch of her panties with one finger, pressing only hard enough to feel the pouting lips of her nether mouth. She was wet from their bout of Strip Poker, wet almost to the point of gushing. Her underwear was soaked with the evidence of her arousal. He traced up and down gently, still watching her, until her hands were grabbing at his blonde curls and her mouth was open for her hot, little panting breaths.

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