David Martin: Loaned wife

And that was precisely the way she'd planned it.

She paraded into the room, wearing a T-shirt of Tom's that was anything but concealing. Beneath it, her breasts moved and bobbled, nudging each other softly on the huggable expanse of her ribcage. Her nipples were dark spots behind the pale cotton, and there was a hole at one armpit that moved and tantalized with every step she took.

She wore an old pair of blue-jean cut-offs that had shrunk in the wash once and had since lain in the back of a drawer. They were far too tight for her, exhibiting every fluid swell of her rounded ass as she strode languorously into the room. She wore no panties beneath them. That was obvious by the way the seam of the shorts pressed up between her pussy lips, compressing her pubic thatch so that the hairy forest was clearly evident behind the tight fabric.

The friction of the rough jean fabric against her exposed clitoris sent a rush of blood to her pussy lips, making them swell and become the more sensitive for her arousal.

She was acutely aware of the eyes of the men on her, of the way Koenig, in particular, was watching her cunt move within the jean material. George and Russ, both once lean, now paunchy, former college athletes, had their eyes fixed on the moving spot of bare flesh exposed by the tear beneath the armpit, hoping, wishing, praying for a glimpse of Janet's tit, bare and exposed.

She was aware of their eyes and their thoughts and of the bulging cocks in their pants. And it excited her, challenged her. She glanced pest and trough her husband, as if he weren't there, aware of the arousal beginning to flicker in his eyes as well. Tom had his eyes on her strong, smooth, evenly tanned thighs, and he was thinking of what it was like when she opened them to him, with the gash of her cunt gaping in wet, hot, yearning for his cock, exposed and waiting for him to shove it in.

But tonight, she was putting on a show for the other men, a show that she wanted to use to impress upon her husband just how lucky he was to have a woman like her as his wife.

She stood between her husband and Russ. Russ' eyes never left her tits; neither did George's.

Koenig was directly across the table from her. He put his cards flat on the table, then twined his fingers and leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands.

Leaning forward that way, he was able to see past the edge of the table to the tops of Janet's full thighs, where the edge of the frayed blue fabric was tight on her flesh, where the lips of her juicy cunt were clearly spread and outlined.

She saw his eyes move slowly down over her, starting with her slightly dismayed chestnut hair, moving down over her finely molded facial features to her graceful throat to the great, wonderfully rounded swells of her lovely breasts, with the mountain peak tips of her nipples beginning to harden and point with her arousal, to the taut, trim intake of her tummy, to the tight stretch of fabric over her flat abdomen, to the swell of her cunt mound and the spilt of her cunt.

His eyes moved over her add she knew that in his mind, it was his hands or his lips or his tongue, and she tried to picture Koenig naked, aroused. What, she wondered, would his penis look like?

She had a momentary mental image of a great, huge, fat cock, purple and swollen and throbbing with lust, jutting out into the dimness over her while she lay on the bed beneath him, waiting anxiously for him to separate her cunt lips and drive the length of his broad cock into her yearning slot.

She banished the thought from her mind. She was, after all, just out to tease a little bit and remind her husband which side his bread was buttered on.

But then her eyes met Koenig's and she flushed hotly. For an instant, it seemed to her that his eyes were looking inside her head and seeing the fantasy her overheated mind had concocted, seen it and laughingly approved and encouraged and read in it a sign of her submission to the lust growing inside him even as that huge monster of a dick of his swelled in her hands as she pressed her lips to it.

She drove away the thoughts again.

"Well, aren't you boys going to ask me to join you?" she purred seductively, letting her hands slide down her sides to her hips. Her pelvis came forward slightly, thrusting her already prominent pubis aggressively forward and heaving her breasts out for all of them to see and note and think of and wish for.

"We sure are," Koenig said, starting to push aside to make room for her beside him.

But already Russ had shifted his chair to one side, reached back with one arm and brought forward another. "Why, thank you kind sir," she said softly, taking the chair. Her eyes taunting Koenig as all of them shifted positions to make themselves more comfortable.

"You need money," Tom said. He'd already deduced what she planned to do, and in that exhibitionist's delight of an outfit she was almost wearing, he would have been able to spot any money she carried on her. She carried none.

"Well now, who's the big winner so far tonight, boys?"

"So far, Tom is up about fifty bucks," George said immediately. George was a CPA. He'd always had an excellent head for figures of all kinds.

"Well, then my man won't mind lending his little sweetheart a few bucks," she said throatily, and suddenly reached over and plucked a few bills from the pile in front of her husband.

The men around the table chuckled, and Tom had no choice but to chuckle right along with them.

"Well, what's the game, boys?"

"Ladies' choice," Russ answered immediately. His gaze was centered on her breast.

She shifted her arms on the table and both breasts jiggled in harmony as they moved within the white cotton.

"How about…" she looked around, meeting the eyes of each man in turn; she let her gaze linger on Koenig's an extra instant. "How about five card," she suggested. "Draw."

Koenig's face hardened and she wondered how hard his dick was, how hard and how thick and how long.

"I'll deal," Tom announced and took the cards. Quickly, he shuffled them.

George opened, Koenig saw and it came around back to Tom. His wife had covered the bet. He did as well.

They all drew and Janet held three in her hand. The betting went around again and she played it conservatively.

Tom didn't, though. He raised the bet by two bucks. And Koenig saw him. Russ and George folded.

Koenig took it with three nine's. Janet had a pair of Queens and an ace. Tom had nothing and folded down. He passed the deck to George who announced seven card.

After six hands, Tom was just about even. Koenig had taken four of those hands and one of the pots was big – almost twenty bucks.

Janet was down to four dollars. She hadn't taken a hand.

The betting went-around again and this time Janet leaned towards her husband.

She put one hand on his forearm as it rested on the table and let her fingers slide up to his shoulder then down over his back and on down out of sight along his side to below the table.

There, her hand moved unerringly across Tom's thigh to his groin and she let her hand rest on the bulge there. His cock jerked and so did Tom. The other men at the table smiled knowingly. "Won't you lend me a few dollars, lover?" she cooed.

He wanted to make it a joke, to turn it around on her, but he couldn't. Instead he quietly handed her ten dollars from his shrinking stake.

"Is that all you think I'm worth, lover?" she asked insinuatingly.

Without a word, Koenig pulled his wallet and peeled off a fifty, tossing it over in front of Janet.

She picked up the bill and held it between thumb and index finger, flicking her forefinger back and forth over the crisp edge of the bill. Somehow, the movement was incredibly seductive in the suddenly charged atmosphere.

She looked up and caught Koenig's smile and in that instant decided to play Koenig's naked lusts for all they were worth. "I see that Sid, at least, has an eye for quality."