grey frames. Michael, who ran a media production company in Docklands, was six foot plus of prime Midwestern beefcake, blond and muscular in all the right places. My pussy creamed just looking at the pair of them.
Introductions made, Robin led us all down to his den. The other two men were clearly familiar with the room, but it was the first time I’d even become aware he had his own basement-level domain, fitted out with everything the discerning forty-something gentleman needed to have a good time. There were a couple of black leather sofas, their cushions butter soft, a full-size pool table, the balls racked up and ready, and a genuine Wurlitzer jukebox. Its multicoloured neon lights flashed as Robin punched a sequence of numbers into it, picking out his favourite soft rock tunes. A bar stood in one corner, stocked with bottles of everything from twelve-year-old Highland malt to vintage champagne. Still believing Robin had asked me over simply to carry out waitressing duties, I took their orders. Scotch on the rocks for Geoff, bourbon and Coke for Michael and a glass of Merlot for Robin. I poured a second glass of the smooth, leathery red wine for myself, and sat quietly sipping at it as the men gathered round the card table.
Robin cut and dealt the cards, explaining they’d be playing poker, classic five-card draw style. Card games bored me, always had, and I wished I’d brought a book to read. However, it soon emerged that Robin had thought of other ways for me to pass the time.
‘Juliette, darling, there’s a jar of nuts on the bar counter. Could you pour out a couple of bowls for us?’
I hurried to do as he asked, eager to make a good impression on his friends. Filling three small white china bowls to the brim with salted cashews, I sneaked a handful for myself, licking my fingers clean afterwards. Looking up, I saw Michael’s eyes fixed on my middle finger as it disappeared into my mouth. Unable to resist teasing him just a little, I sucked provocatively on that digit as I kept eye contact with him, so he couldn’t fail to imagine it was his cock sliding between my pink-glossed lips.
Geoff, on the other hand, seemed almost oblivious to my presence – until I placed a bowl of nuts on the table in front of him. Out of view of the others, he ran a hand up my leg, under the hem of my skirt, to cup my bottom. He smiled as he registered how little in the way of fabric covered my soft cheeks. I should have said something, maybe even slapped his hand away – I’d only agreed to serve drinks, after all, not put myself on the menu for these men. But I didn’t, because the truth was I liked the feel of his hand there, big and warm, squeezing my almost bare arse with delicious gentleness.
For half an hour or so, I acted the part of the dutiful waitress, fetching more drinks, more nibbles, as and when the men requested them. Geoff grew bolder in his moves; the next time I lingered in his orbit, his hand closed round my panty-clad crotch, gently pushing the soft lace up into my cleft, causing my juices to flow strongly. I bit my lip, trying to conceal my reaction to his fingering, but a tiny squeak of pleasure escaped. Robin looked at me, his expression seeming to strip me bare. I didn’t know it, but with the acknowledgement that I was enjoying everything his friend was doing to me, I’d given him permission to put the dirty little scenario which was to be the real meat of the evening into action.
I hadn’t been following their poker game at all, but Michael appeared to be the dealer at this point. Robin was studying his cards intently, doing his best to keep his facial expression neutral as he weighed up his options. Geoff had already folded, throwing his hand face down on the table, though it seemed, from the size of the pile of chips in front of him, he’d been doing considerably better than his friends up to this point.
At last, Robin tossed a couple of chips on to the pile in the centre of the table. ‘And I’ll raise you five pounds.’
Michael matched the bet, and waited for Robin to decide what he was going to do. His options seemed limited, seeing that he was already down to his last chip. He threw it on to the pile, his next words taking me completely by surprise. ‘And I’ll throw in Juliette’s dress, too.’
It was an outrageous offer, but I reckoned he had to be pretty confident in the cards he held to make such a deal. And anyway, there was no way Michael would accept it – or so I thought, until he smirked and said, ‘OK, I’ll see you.’
Robin spread his hand out on the table, face up. Michael, his smirk now so wide it threatened to engulf his entire face, did the same. If I’d known anything at all about poker, I’d have been aware there was no way Robin’s random selection of cards could have beaten the array of queens and aces Michael revealed, and understood just what kind of game he was actually playing. But I remained in ignorance, even as Michael said, ‘Looks like I win. Pay up, sweetheart.’
With a shock, I realised he was addressing me. Holding out a hand, he drawled, ‘Let’s have that pretty dress of yours.’
This couldn’t be happening. Robin couldn’t have gambled away the clothes on my back, surely? But all three men were looking at me expectantly. It seemed a bet was a bet, and I had no option but to unzip the dress. I peeled it down off my shoulders, stepped out of it and handed it over to Michael.
‘Thank you so much, Juliette.’ His tone was gracious, and I thought that was the end of my ordeal, but then he smiled and said, ‘Get me another bourbon and Coke, would you, darlin’?’
Blushing furiously, I went round to his side of the table and picked up his empty glass. When I turned and walked to the bar, I knew all three men would have a perfect view of my bare arse, cheeks bisected by the scandalously small thong back of my panties. The only thing for it was to try to back away, treating them to my front view only. Though that in itself was quite a sight, with my big brown nipples pushing at the cups of my bra, and the telltale spot of dampness in my panties from where Geoff had played with me.
Michael just shook his head, and I knew my plan had been rumbled. I turned round and dashed to the bar, wondering just why, if it was so shameful to be running about half-naked in front of three men almost twice my age, my pussy was fluttering with excitement and my nipples were quite so hard.
Returning with his drink, I saw the cards were being dealt again. Despite having been cleaned out by the last hand, Robin was still in the game. Maybe his friends had agreed to take an IOU in lieu of cash, I thought naively. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have the money to cover his losses; the expensive boys’ toys on display in his den were evidence enough of that.
This time it was Michael who folded, Geoff who faced Robin down in this contest of bluff and counter-bluff. ‘So what are you willing to stake this time?’ Geoff asked, in the tone of a man who knows he’s literally holding all the cards. ‘Your Rolex? That bottle of 1982 Margaux I know you’ve got squirreled away in your wine cellar?’
‘In your dreams, Geoffrey.’ Robin sipped his Merlot. ‘How does Juliette’s bra sound?’
I should have realised this was coming. Neither of Robin’s friends appeared at all surprised by the offer, and I wondered how many times in the past they’d brought Kirsty the nanny, or some other willing woman, down here to take part in their perverse gambling games. Geoff merely put his cards down on the table with a wolfish grin. ‘I’ll see you,’ he announced.
Even before Robin’s hand was revealed, I knew he’d lost. Three pairs of eager, greedy eyes turned towards me. My protests that I couldn’t possibly do this were half-hearted, hands already reaching behind my back to unfasten the catch of my bra. Still, I strung the moment of my exposure out as long as I could, clutching the cups to my breasts while I eased the straps down off my shoulders, so as not to show them everything straight away.
Geoff held out an expectant hand, and I pressed the bra into it, still doing my best to cover my bare tits with one arm.
‘Now,
