Losing at Strip Poer Can Be Fun!

It Can Be Fun To Lose At Strip Poker

A B.A.O.R.

(1)

Base in Germany mid 1960s

Yesterday I bumped into my friend Sally as she was coming out of the NAAFI

(

2)

carrying a large carton of OMO washing powder.

"Hi Sal, didn't know you used that brand, I prefer Daz or Persil."

"Depends on what you want it for Debs."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you seen the packets standing on some kitchen windows."

"The odd one, just thought the lazy cows can't put the bloody thing away," I replied.

"No, it's a signal. O.M.O." I must have looked confused. "O.M.O. On. My. Own. Means hubbies away and I'm ready to play. Everyone knows about the code."

"Bloody hell, Sal, I didn't, and I don't want to. But do you, you know, play?"

"No, I actually prefer the brand."

"Thank God for that," I replied, grateful I wasn't being brought into some strange sex ring on the camp.

I am twenty-one-years-old, and have been married for three years to a soldier, and was now on my first posting overseas with him; our first posting to married quarters. At the moment, I was alone for a week as Tony was away on exercises somewhere down in the Black Forest on a joint NATO thing.

A couple of days after our meeting, I'd allowed myself to be persuaded by Sally, our neighbour in the married quarters' block where we live to have a night out in the other ranks' mess; I had surprised myself by enjoying it more than I thought I would.

Sally is thirty-years-old, so nine years older than me, and had taken me under her wing when I first arrived on base.

During the night, I'd danced with a couple of the lads and had a few drinks bought for me, all very innocent, or so I thought. The boys knew the score with the wives, but they weren't averse to flirting and trying to chat me up. It was now closing time, and Sally wandered over with three squaddies; two older ones, one of whom was called Mike, and he looked really hard and tough; and a cute younger one who looked barely eighteen and out of place with the other two.

"Debs, we're going back to my place for a couple of extra drinks, wanna come and take one of these hunks off my hands?" Sally slurred quietly into my ear. I didn't mind going back to hers for a couple of drinks, but no way was I going to get involved with any men. And I thought she had said she didn't play away.

"I don't mind a drink, but you'll have to look after the fellas yourself."

"Spoilsport. Never had more than one man at a time before, could be fun," she giggled in a half-drunken way. That should have been my cue to leave her to it, but I didn't.

After staggering from the NAAFI, we eventually made it back to Sally's; the five of us were crammed into the small living room of her 'house', which was three doors down the block from mine. Sally got the drinks sorted as I tuned in to Radio Luxembourg so that we could get all the latest pop tunes late into the night.

Things started off nice and easy, I danced with all three men in turn, as did Sally, but the young one, Fred, seemed very shy and out of place, more so when a slower song came on. Without thinking, I pulled him in close to me and rested my head on his shoulder as we swayed together. Mike was entirely different; his hands were wandering all over the place, right from the off.

"Stop that. I'm not like that."

"Bet you are really, given the right encouragement. All you married bints are."

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"Look, I don't mind a drink and a dance but that is as far as it goes. And I am not a bloody bint."

"You weren't like that with young Fred a minute ago," Mike leered.

"He's different, he's only a kid. For God's sake he looks terrified of me."

"I'm not. I'd show you a good time if you give me a chance," whispered Mike as he tried to grab me again.

"Mike, just cut it out will you! I told you I'm not like that."

"Why not, your fella would never know. You know what they say, a slice off a cut loaf's never missed."

"That's it. Sally, I'm off."

"Debs no. Mike bloody stop that. If Debs says no that's what she means, now don't spoil things, or you'll never come back here after hours again. And you know how much you like that don't you."

Mike looked annoyed at me and sneered, "We'll see Debs."

"Don't hold your breath," I told him, thinking I need to watch out for him if he ever gets me alone.

John, the third man, was more like Fred, happy to have a dance, but being older, had no problem when we snuggled in tight together, but he came without the wandering hands of Mike. He still got his hand on my bum, but as he didn't squeeze it or try anything else, I didn't object, and it seemed a natural position in the way we were dancing at the time.

Mike noticed and was even less happy than earlier.

After things had calmed down and Mike had reluctantly apologised to me, Sally suggested we play cards to let things calm down even more. We agreed on Three Card Brag

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as we knew the rules.

After a few hands, we all sensed the buzz going out of the night when John said, "This is boring, what do you say if we change the stakes?"

"How?" I asked.

"Strip Brag. Let's play for clothes."

"Whoa, no thank you. I told you before, I'm a married woman, and not like that. I'm not going to strip in front of you lot."

"Why not, it's only a bit of fun, nothing's gonna happen. We're all adults anyway," Sally replied. "I've done it before, it's a laugh. It's only like being at the beach in your swimwear."

"No bloody way Sally. No way. Look, you can if you want, and it seems as if you've done this sort of thing before. I'm going to call it a night and leave you to it. I'll not mention it to anyone though."

"Debs don't leave now, why not give it a try," John asked kindly, lulling me into a sense of false security. "How about if we set a limit on how far we go? Say we call a halt when you girls are down to your bra and panties, or us chaps in our undies. I'm sure Fred would love to get a chance to see a couple of good looking girls like you and Sally in their bra and panties. It would make his day, and as Sally says, if you only go as far as your bra and panties, it's only as if you would be in a bikini."

"Make his week, and the undies I'm wearing are nothing like my bikini," I teased, the extra drinks getting the better of me.

"Or if you decide you feel like going further, then you can do that too, but nobody will force you to go to less than your undies."

Fred could only nod his head when I looked at him. The poor lad looked desperate to play.

Why did I think I'd been set up? Then I thought, why not. I was pissed off with my husband anyway. He never paid any attention to me nowadays. His off time he spent in the mess with his drinking mates and his last brush with authority had nearly ended up with him losing a stripe. That we could do without, we needed the extra pay that stripe meant. So why not have a bit of fun for one night?

Young Fred looked as though he'd never seen a girl in any form of undress. It would be fun to see his reaction when Sally and I got down to our undies. And I knew that we would eventually, but bra and panties were as far as I was prepared to go.

"If I say yes, and it's still a big if, then what are the rules and ante. I'm not daft, normal Brag would have most of us all naked in a couple of hands. And I want a time limit on the game. I'm not sitting around in my bra and pants all night, letting you all ogle me." I stared pointedly at Mike as I said this.

"Well that's the aim of the game isn't it? Getting naked."

"Not if I'm playing. Let's slow things down a little. As I said I want a time limit of an hour on the game." Everyone, even Fred, knew I would say yes to playing now. All we needed to do was come up with some form of amended betting system.

"What if we play for lives, ten lives equal one piece of clothing, apart from that normal betting and ante rules apply."

"Yeah, okay I'm happy with that, but with one exception. Covering the pot means an automatic loss of clothing if you lose." I suggested.

"What about the winner? Do they get to keep all the bet lives?"

I hadn't thought that out. "No, that would be too hard to keep score, but they keep all their own lives from that hand, and if the rest equal more than 10 lives then they can put on a piece of lost clothing, or make the last player lose another life and if that puts that player over the limit then it's a piece of clothing."

"And a Prial

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means everyone automatically loses a piece of kit."

We argued over the rules a bit more but eventually agreed on a method of play and betting. I wasn't overly worried about the game taking a turn like this as I've played cards, especially brag or crib, since I was old enough to sneak into a pub. And as I say, I had, had a fair bit to drink, not that that worried me, as I can hold my drink. Most army wives soon learn early on how to.

I did okay on the first few hands, only losing my ante or a couple of lives, and I won a few hands, so hadn't lost any clothes. Sally was the first to lose her ten lives and took off a shoe, much to the disappointment of the lads. As is the course of things, eventually, I lost ten lives.

As I was the last person to lose, I suddenly felt a crazy impulse to switch things up. I stood up, placed my foot onto my chair, pulled my skirt a little higher, reached underneath it, unhooked a stocking from its garter and rolled it down my leg. Even though I'd been careful not to show anything, the boys were going wild, lots of wolf-whistles, and the tension had eased. I didn't make the mistake of not putting my shoe back on after I removed my stocking though.

The other thing was, I didn't fancy sitting around in my undies and stockings, that would be just a turn-on for the pervy Mike.

The game progressed quite quickly, and we all lost various amounts of clothing in fairly equal proportions. After my initial teasing, I tamed things down for the next couple of times I lost. Both my shoes and my remaining stocking, but this time without the teasing leg show.

On my next loss of cards, my hands went to my waist, and all the men expected me to undo my skirt when I took off my 4-inch wide patent leather belt.

"Hey, that's not fair," Fred called out, getting involved in the game at last. By this time, Mike seemed to have regained his composure, and was acting nicely again, but his eyes kept running over me.

"Why not?" asked Mike.

"When I took my pants off the belt was still there, so that was two lots of clothing if you call a belt an item."

"Well that's your daft fault isn't it," replied John.

Fred wasn't disappointed for long as I hit a run of bad cards, and with some stupid betting, it was me again who next hit her limit. I decided to lose my blouse again to a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls as I theatrically took it off and dropped it onto the table. Despite my earlier reservations, I was feeling quite relaxed, even with Mike constantly leering at me. As if playing strip cards wasn't enough, I could sense him mentally undressing me as well.

I was now sitting in my black satin slip, bra and panties. Everyone could see the swell of the tops of my tits as my slip had a plunging neckline, and my boobs are reasonably big. Not massive Diana Dors or Jayne Mansfield size, but not bloody Twiggy small. Things could get a bit interesting if I continued losing, I thought. Mike wouldn't have to mentally undress me; he'd be seeing it for real.

Fred's eyes were popping out of his head and he couldn't stop looking at my tits. I decided to tease him a little and leant over, giving him a quick glance down my cleavage. His face was bright red when I looked at him and smiled. I knew I was playing with fire, but the drink was taking on even more of an effect on me, or so I told myself.

I won the next hand but folded after the ante on the next two. Fred and Mike were down to their Y-fronts and singlets. John was bare on top but still had his pants and undies on. Sally was like me down to her skirt, bra and panties. We were now getting down to the interesting part of the game. For once, Mike's leering gaze left me and stayed on Sally's tits, which were spilling over the top and sides of her bra. A bra that, in my opinion, seemed a size too small.

I was six lives away from losing my next piece of clothing and had a decision to make, fold for the loss of one life or gamble and play. I had a reasonable hand when I looked at it after the deal, a flush, a middling hand, but not great. I decided to take a chance and play.

John led the betting making the minimum bet of one life. I was feeling comfortable, so upped the ante to two lives. Fred followed, as did Sally, but Mike folded. I upped the bet to three lives next time, forcing John and Sally to fold. It was now down to me and Fred to fight it out. If he lost big he'd be the first to be naked, and he was getting uncomfortable squirming around in his chair. I'd been reading him all night and decided he didn't have a winning hand. So I upped the bet to four lives. Fred took his time before matching my bet. I took pity on him and called to see him.

Grinning, he slowly turned his cards over. Three of spades, five of hearts, got him, I thought. He's only got a high card hand, or a pair at best. With trembling hands, he turned over his last card. Four. A four of diamonds. Nothing, a high card hand and a five at that. Then it sunk in, he had a run, three, four, five. He'd won. In Brag, a run beats a flush. I placed my cards face down on the pile and stood up. Moving to the centre of the room, I turned and faced everyone as they sat around the table looking on expectantly, waiting to see what I would do. Even Sally seemed excited.

Decision time, lose my panties, bra or slip. If I chose my slip, on my next loss, and I was already halfway to that, I would be exposing my tits or cunt the next time I lost. I didn't feel too happy about losing my panties next, so opted for the bra.

Like any woman, I can shed a bra with ease without flashing my tits, so that's what I did. Once again, dropping the clothing onto the table. Fred's eyes were really popping out now, as my tits bounced and swayed every time I moved as they swung free. I think it was even more exciting for the men as they could see the shape of my tits, and the nipples were hardening every time they brushed against the satin of my slip. Fred had the best view as he was sitting directly opposite me and could look at them without appearing to do. Over the next couple of hands, one of which I won, so I regained a piece of clothing. I couldn't be arsed with the palaver of putting my bra back on, so I opted to drape my blouse around my shoulders, giving me some increased sense of modesty.

Mike was the one who by judicious play had lost the least, and we got into a heavy betting sequence on the next hand. I should have folded earlier, but my ego had got the better of me, and I wanted him to lose. The bets kept being matched, but neither of us upped the ante. We were each going to lose a lot of lives if we lost, but if I won, I would be getting a couple of pieces of clothing back. On the other hand, if I lost, the boys would get to see some flesh. I lost! Counting up the lives meant I would have to shed two pieces of clothing, the most in any one hand over the night and at such a time.

Naturally, the blouse went again, and now I had a dilemma. My panties would mean that I wouldn't be showing anything, but meant that my next loss and I would be naked. (I would be anyway, but my mind wasn't functioning properly). If I took my slip off, I'd be sitting there in only my panties, and everyone would be looking at my tits until the game ended. If I took my panties off, I would keep my modesty, but everyone would know I was naked under the slinky satin slip. Crazily that was the least appealing option for me. I had a feeling that knowing I was effectively naked under the slip would excite the men even more than me sitting around with my tits on show.

Mike had won, so I faced him more than the others. He was a lot older than John and Fred and a bit coarser, but he was the victor, and to the victor go the spoils, or so they say. I eased the straps of my slip off my shoulders and let it slither down my body and pool on the floor. I resisted the natural impulse to cover my tits with my hands. Mike looked impressed as he smiled and mouthed, "Nice tits Debs."

I don't know whose mouth was wider, Sally's or Fred's, as I calmly retook my place at the table, sitting upright and letting everyone have a good look at my assets. They are medium-sized with a nice bounce, firm and perky, with small dark nipples that were already hard, as I've said, and small areolas.

I looked across at John and he seemed to be just taking things in. Mike was a different matter. I could see he was getting more and more excited, and I wondered where that would end when we all got naked, or would somebody call an early end to the game. I doubted that would happen now.

As I'd thought, nobody called an end to the play, and the tension was back in the air, but this time it was excitement. Even I'd relaxed and accepted that I would end up being naked. Mike was becoming less obnoxious as he sensed the change in me.

John was the first to be naked, and as he dropped his skiddies, I got a good look at his cock. Nice I thought, then I did a double take. What the hell was I thinking, looking at and admiring another man than my husband's cock. But to be honest, it had a nice size about it. Not too long and not too thick, but certainly bigger than Tony's.

John didn't bother to hide things, nor did he flaunt it. Just stood there for a moment ensuring that Sally and I could see his equipment, then sat down.

The next hand changed everything. Fred won with a Prial, which meant that Sally and Mike lost their last pieces of clothing. Mike was ignored as he grudgingly got naked and sat down. Sally pouted and posed as she slowly pushed her panties down and let them slip down her thighs. Mike seemed unconcerned, giving me the idea that he'd seen her like that before; all of his interest was in me.

Fred and John stared at her intently, leaving me to decide what I would do next. Slip or panties. I decided on my panties, so I removed them and threw them onto the pile of clothing, which was scattered around the room. As I went to sit down, Fred said, "Debs, more. You've lost your ten lives. So get something off."

"I just did," I replied angrily.

"No, that was for the Prial, we agreed everyone lost to a Prial. You've still got your ten lives owing."

"Fuck, you can't be serious," I protested, the implication suddenly hitting me. I would be naked in front of three strange men and one woman I only just knew in a few seconds.

"No Debs, we all agreed. Tough shit, now get that slip off." Mike said.

"All right, if I have to, but I'm not happy."

"You don't have to be happy, just naked," Mike said with a leer in his voice.

"Oh stop messing about Debs, just get it over with, we're all naked anyway," Sally said, forcing my hand.

Going red with shame, I stood up and faced away from them, reached down with trembling hands and pulled the slip over my head, dropping it as I turned around to face everyone. I moved to cover myself with my hands, but a glance from John stopped me.

"Wow," gasped Fred, who had suddenly become more animated and interested in things over the last couple of hands.

"Happy now?" I asked defiantly. "Now come on, get your undies off, then we're all equal."

"No, sorry Deb's winner stays as they are."

"So that's it, we just sit here naked?"