Bet Everything?

"As a point of fact, you three could never be good gamblers," I said in a somewhat flippant manner.

"Dave, you are so full of bullshit, it's coming out your ears," responded Amy as she glared at me.

I didn't come to their apartment looking for a fight. In fact, I wasn't planning to see them at all, but I had bumped into Janet at the front door; she was struggling to hold two bags of groceries while trying to find her keys. I've always liked Janet since she moved into the apartment last fall. She had an easy smile, a very nice body measuring about five foot eight inches tall, beautiful breasts from what I could see, and deep brown eyes that I seemed to get lost in every time she looked at me.

We were attending the nearby university and this was one of many off-campus student apartments. I was on the third floor in a ten foot by ten foot room, Murphy bed, small table and counter for my hot plate, and a minuscule bathroom with shower. It wasn't much; it was cheap.

A week after I moved in the three women arrived. I met Janet first, gazed into those brown eyes and immediately volunteered to help them. Mary Beth introduced herself to me with a giggle. She was five foot six inches or so; thin with nice but small breasts, an exceptional ass, blue eyes and red hair.

Finally Janet introduced me to Amy. She was the same height as Mary Beth, but much bigger breasts, blue eyes and blond hair. We looked at each other and it was instant dislike. She was a bitchy rich kid to me, and sensing my feelings, she never missed an opportunity to challenge anything I said.

I ignored Amy for the rest of that day as the four of us emptied three packed cars. Their second floor apartment put mine to shame--two bedrooms, a large bathroom with tub and shower, and a small family room and kitchen combination. One wall had a wide expanse of windows looking out over the park across the street. A gas-fired, artificial corner fireplace made the family area comfortable.

Amy and Mary Beth had decided to share the very large bedroom that had two queen-size beds, end tables, closets and a nice sitting area. Janet had a much smaller bedroom to herself.

They had also put a twin bed in the family room and covered it with a multitude of colorful pillows to make it appear to be a couch. If one of their girlfriends stayed over, the couch became a bed.

My thoughts were interrupted as Amy continued, "You are always full of shit when you try to put us down like that."

"Amy," I replied, "I'm sorry you took that the wrong way. You know I play poker at least five times a week, and the money I win is how I'm putting myself through school. So I think you have to give me a little credit when I say you could never be good gamblers."

Amy sputtered, "You jerk; do you..."

Janet interrupted, trying to calm things down and asked me, "But why couldn't any of us be good gamblers? Two of us are math majors and Mary Beth is an econ major, so we aren't dumb."

"Janet, being smart is only a very small part of being a good gambler. For example, I read that all professional golfers are within 90 percent of each other in physical ability. However, it is the mental part of the game that determines the champion in golf. Many professionals could put an eight foot putt in the hole ten out of ten times, but if that putt is worth $400,000 and the crowd is staring at them, all but the true champions often miss.

"Gamblers are the same way; they must be willing to put everything on the line—their money, their reputation, their soul—in a high stakes game. If they can't go to the limit, and many gamblers cannot, they will never be a good gambler. They quit or make critical errors at the worst time; they flinch."

"Any of us could put it all on the line," challenged Amy.

"Put what on the line Amy?" I fired back. "None of you play competitive sports so you haven't experienced the thrill and agony of winning and losing. You're all well off with your three cars and nice clothes, so putting money on the line is probably not even stressful.

"The real test of the gambler is whether he or she can risk the biggest pain or the highest stress in order to win...there is no pain or stress that I can think of that would be a challenge—to see if you would play or walk away."

The room was quiet as they thought about what I had said.

Janet finally said with a grin, "Well I guess you are accusing us of all talk, but no action. Is that it?"

Mary Beth finally spoke up and giggled at me, "So even you—the master gambler—can't come up with a test which would prove that we could be good gamblers?"

Actually, I had thought of a way of pushing these three to the limit, but I knew my idea would never fly. Yet Amy had gotten to me once again and I wanted to goad her some more, so I thought to myself, "Why not give it a try...at least it's bound to get a reaction."

I looked at Amy and asked, "If I thought of a stressful game and you refused to play, would you accept that as proof you could never be a good gambler?"

"Obviously, it depends on the game, asshole," she spit out.

"Well what if the rules are that you can quit at any time if it gets too stressful? Then would you agree to play to see if you have the gambler's spirit?"

"Well that would be better, but what if one of us quits?" Amy asked.

I replied, "A gambler quits when he's broke. If one quits in the middle of a game, then I guess you aren't a gambler."

Mary Beth said, "Well you accused us of all talk and no action. So tell us about your game."

Thinking quickly I said, "The point is that the game has to put you under a great deal of stress, and losing has to be painful. And you have to have the option of quitting at any time. So here it is. I will be the dealer in a blackjack game; you three will be the players. You will play until there is only person who has chips left."

I saw Janet perk up as she anticipated where I was going. I thought I saw a quick, impish grin on her face.

Mary Beth said, "But you already said that playing for money wouldn't put that much stress on us. So how can this game be a good test?"

I answered, "Mary Beth, what if the chips you used could only be purchased by clothes—your clothes. Do you think that would be stressful?"

Mary Beth blushed and Amy shouted, "No way, jerk. You're not going to watch us play strip blackjack."

"Amy," I replied, "You just proved my point. I suggested a highly stressful game. Further, you could quit at any time, and yet, you won't even start the game. Does that sound to you like a gambler?"

Janet laughed and said, "I think he's got you Amy. We wimp out before we even start. We aren't gamblers."

Janet looked at me and asked, "Just out of curiosity, the two losers would end up naked, what's the prize for the winner?"

My mind went blank for a second and then I thought, "I'm going to push this to the brink. It isn't going anywhere, but at least I'll get another blush out of Mary Beth, and probably piss off Amy even more."

I winked at Janet and answered, "Why the winner will sit down and watch the two losers have a slow five-minute sensual dance together."

Mary Beth was blushing, Amy was absolutely fuming and Janet was quietly laughing. I must admit I was quite pleased with myself. These weren't bad people but every now and then it's nice for the poor to jab it to the not-so-poor.

I was absolutely shocked when Janet said, "I think your gambling test makes sense. I'm in if Mary Beth and Amy play."

Amy asked, "Would you play Dave and if not, why do we need you?"

"Amy, I'm a gambler already. It would be silly to prove something to myself that I already know. You need me here because without me it is just a silly little game. You three have probably seen each other naked any number of times living together. My being here changes that—it puts the ultimate stress in the game."

Mary Beth surprised me when she turned to Amy and said, "I'll play. At least I'll start and if I can't take it, I'll quit."

Janet asked, "Amy?"

"What?"

"You started this conversation. Dave suggested a way for us to prove that we have the mental toughness to be good gamblers. As long as we start the game and don't quit, we will prove Dave wrong...even the losers, if they play to the end, will prove Dave wrong. Why not?"

Amy stalled and asked me, "How do we play the game?"

I answered, "Each article of clothing is worth three chips. You must bet at least one chip on each hand. If you win, the house pays you the amount of your bet. If you lose, the house takes your bet. Each time you run out of chips, you must buy three more chips with another piece of clothes. When you run out of clothes and have no chips left, you are a loser. The two losers dance.

"Your shoes are an article of clothing, so are your socks. Then you have two other articles above your waist and two below. So you are going to get a total of eighteen chips.

"I've played a lot of blackjack. If you ask me what to do, I'll tell you the statistical right thing to do. You don't have to follow my advice and you can't blame me if the strategy doesn't make you win."

The room turned silent. Finally, Mary Beth said, "Amy, I'm the one who is always blushing. Why don't you at least start the game?"

Amy looked at me and said, "I'm not a quitter."

Janet excitedly clapped and said, "Let the game begin. I'll get the chips and a deck of cards. Amy you open a bottle of wine and pull the kitchen table over so that we can sit at it."

There was a flurry of activity. It was dark outside now, and it had started snowing. Mary Beth lit the fireplace and turned the gas on low as the flames barely extended above the fake logs.

We sat at the round table which happened to have a glass top so you could see through it. I had the box of chips in front of me and said, "It's time to buy your chips."

They all took off their shoes and I gave them three chips each. Amy bet one chip as did Mary Beth. Janet bet two chips.

I dealt the first hand. Amy had a nineteen and stopped. Mary Beth had two fives and asked for a card. She got a seven for a seventeen and stopped. Janet had two tens—a twenty count and stopped. I, as the dealer, had one card up and one card down. The up card was an eight. I turned over the down card and it was a ten. I had an eighteen. Since the dealer must hit sixteen or lower and stop on seventeen or higher, I had no choice but to stop. Amy won a chip. Mary Beth lost a chip, and Janet won two chips.

The game continued quietly as the women concentrated on playing their hands correctly. Janet was playing a simple system. She was betting two chips until she lost. She then bet one chip until she won and then increased her bet back to two chips. Mary Beth was betting only one chip at a time. Amy was betting one to three chips with no noticeable logic—she was a hunch better.

On one hand I had a six showing and Amy had a ten and a two for twelve. She looked at me and asked, "What does the book say I should do?"

I replied, "Never hit with a twelve or higher if the dealer is showing a five or a six."

She said, "Hit me," and I dealt her a nine for a twenty-one and a win.

She looked at me with a tight smile on her face and said, "Screw your book."

The game continued. Mary Beth was the first to have to buy more chips. She took off her socks. Then Amy had to buy. Janet was still winning and now had seven chips.

Amy went on a losing streak and finally lost her last chip that she had bought with her socks. For the first time a serious piece of clothing was needed to buy chips. She looked at Janet for a moment and finally pulled her sweater over her head. I stared. Her breasts were large and were held in place by a full white bra. I could see the impression of her nipples pushing against the material. She looked at me and sneered, "Don't hurt your eyes now."

Mary Beth was next to buy. On schedule she blushed again but quickly lifted her sweater over her head. Her skin was very white with some small freckles on her chest. Her breasts were smaller than Amy's, but her bra was smaller also, as it only lightly supported her. Even without a bra I doubted her breasts would sag. The light material of her bra clearly showed her nipples that were starting to become hard.

Mary Beth continued her losing streak and lost her last chip; she would have to use her bra or skirt to buy more chips. She chose her skirt and stood up from the table and reached behind to loosen it. It fell to the floor. Her legs were slim but well formed and my initial impression was right—she had an exceptional ass! She was wearing only a small thong panty of the same light material as her bra. I could see through the material of the thong and it was obvious that Mary Beth was a real redhead. The importance of the table top now became obvious to all—since it was glass you could see both above and below the waist.

I had been controlling myself, but after seeing Mary Beth's legs, ass, and tiny thong, I was starting to be aroused. I was semi-hard and a small circle of pre-cum had soaked through my pants and was visible to the women. However, it seemed to me that most of the time the women were looking at each other--stripping as a contest seemed to create a sexual tension between them that was not present in their day-to-day living together.

The game continued as the winners and losers continued to change. When Janet took off her blouse she looked at me and smiled. Her breasts were smaller than Amy's but bigger than Mary Beth's. Her broad shoulders accentuated her breasts as they strained to be free of her bra, and my sexual excitement increased as I thought about seeing those breasts for the first time.

The game progressed as we sipped our way into a second bottle of wine. Amy lost her skirt. Mary Beth gave up her bra and then Amy had to buy more chips using her bra. When Amy released her bra her breasts sagged because of their size. She stared at me as if daring me to look. I did, and as I did her nipples that had been soft began to harden.

Finally, Janet had to give up her skirt.

Mary Beth was down to her panties. She was running out of buying power. Amy had her bra and panties. Janet now was also down to her bra and panties. They each bet one chip. All three of them had nineteen or twenty, but my king up matched an ace down and the dealer beat them all with a blackjack.

When Mary Beth ran out of chips again, I thought for sure the game was over. She could quit or she could use her last article of clothing. She thought for a few seconds, looked at Amy and said, "I'm not a quitter." She stood up and slipped her fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down. She quickly sat down, but not before we all saw her trimmed, heart-shaped red hair covering her pussy. And, of course, through the table top we could continue to see her nakedness.

Finally we were coming to the end game. Janet had lost her skirt and then eventually her bra. She hesitated before reaching for the clasps on her bra and Amy said, "Don't even think of it Janet; you are the one who talked us into it."

Janet gave me a nervous grin; she leaned forward as she reached behind. The clasp came undone and as she straightened up the bra slipped down. Part of the bra stuck on one of her nipples, but she quickly grabbed the bra and dropped it to the floor. Her white breasts jutted out—her semi-dark areolas highlighting her hard nipples. She stared at me. I looked up from gazing at her breasts and gave her a nod of approval. I saw relief in her eyes as if my approval was important to her.

Mary Beth had lost her last chip and sat there waiting to see who the other loser would be. As I was waiting for Amy to decide whether to take a card, I glanced down at Mary Beth's pussy through the glass table and saw a few drops of moisture clinging to her red hairs.

Amy was down to her panties and had two chips left. She bet two and lost. She stared at the table top for a moment and then stood up and removed her panties to receive her last three chips. Her thin, blond hair was trimmed in a narrow strip which bordered her slit.

Amy's face had a look or resignation and defiance as she bet her last three chips on the very next hand. Janet had four chips in front of her and bet one of them. The cards came up and Amy had a twelve, Janet had an eighteen, and the dealer's up card showed a six.

Amy looked at me and asked, "What does the book say?"

I replied, "Same as last time Amy; stand on a twelve against a dealer's six."

She said, "I'll take a card."

I dealt a ten! Amy had busted out with a twenty-two. She was the second loser.

Amy turned to Mary Beth—the partner she was supposed to have a sensual dance with for five minutes according to the rules of the game—and asked, "Are you a quitter?"

Mary Beth looked into her eyes and said, "No."

Janet and I pulled the table out of the way. I went over to the couch and sat back against the pillows. Janet turned on the radio to an easy listening station and dimmed the lights. She hesitated a second and then sat next to me on the couch. I could feel her bare shoulder touching my shoulder and could smell her perfume. I casually glanced down at her breasts and hard nipples that were beautiful in the semi-darkened room.

Amy had put one hand around Mary Beth's waist and the other hand reached for Mary Beth's hand when Janet giggled, "No, no...this is supposed to be a five minute sensual dance, so we want full contact and at least a kiss for the first two minutes. No cheating.

"Start now," ordered Janet.

Mary Beth looked at Amy and then moved into her as she put both her arms around Amy's neck. Amy put her arms around Mary Beth's back and pulled her closer. Since they were the same height, their hips touched and their pussy hairs met. They started a slow shuffle in time to the radio melody.

Janet was getting into it as she loudly whispered, "Kiss guys...let's go."

Amy glared at Janet for a second and then looked at Mary Beth. She nodded and Amy's lips touched Mary Beth's softly and then with more pressure. Janet and I watched as they swayed with the music as the kiss continued. I felt Janet's hand rest lightly on my thigh as she leaned her head against my shoulder. The smell of her and the sight of her naked breasts moving with her breathing were extremely erotic; I became very hard.

After about thirty seconds into the kiss I saw Mary Beth open her mouth and Amy's tongue began to explore. Janet's hand tightened on my thigh as Amy's hands slid from Mary Beth's back down to her ass as she pulled her closer trying to create more contact.

I glanced at Janet. Her eyes were focused on the two girls dancing; her mouth was slightly open and her tongue slowly wet her lips. It was obvious that the erotic scene taking place before us was turning her on.

Looking back at the dancers I saw Amy's fingers go lower and slip between Mary Beth's legs trying to reach her vagina. They were kissing passionately now, seemingly oblivious to their audience; Mary Beth began to move her chest up and down increasing the contact and friction against Amy's larger breasts. Suddenly we heard Mary Beth gasp and she laid her head on Amy's shoulder as she kissed her neck softly.

Moments later she stepped slightly back from Amy; Mary Beth was facing away from us as they once again began another deep kiss. She brought her right hand down to Amy's breast and lightly circled the areola with her fingers, and then gently pulled the nipple repeatedly with two fingers. Then her hand continued down. The two bodies were in the shadows with only the dim overhead light and the flickers of flame from the fireplace. Mary Beth's hand disappeared from our view as her fingers explored Amy. Amy whimpered and I assumed that one finger had penetrated her and was now exciting Amy's clit. Amy's face was flush and she opened her legs more as her body continued to turn on to Mary Beth's teasing finger.