We had played strip Hearts, and a few times after that, strip poker. The three of us: Emily, Jordan and me. Strip hearts we had played just that once, as a way of basically flipping a coin to see which of the girls would get naked while my younger brother masturbated in front of us. I had lost that game, and Jordan -- my 19 year old younger brother -- got his first view of my small breasts that day while he unloaded himself on his chest.
Strip poker, on the other hand, was more of an event in itself: playing a slow game of chance with each separate article of clothing; letting luck decide which one of us, in mixed company, would have to take off the next thing. None of us were good enough at poker to make it anything more than the luck of the cards deciding who would go next, and who would end up totally bare in the end.
Sometimes it ended with Jordan giving us another hot show stroking himself to his finish; but Emily, like me, would not let him see her doing it. He hadn't asked her out yet, despite my best efforts, although she had kissed him once, on a dare from me, after she had lost a game of poker.
It had been down to her and Jordan -- he in just his briefs and she in panties. I was winning, still in panties and top. Emily had never been nude with either of us, and she pleaded to be able to do a dare, anything, rather than peel down her panties and show her last secret to him.
Jordan left it up to me. "Ok," I decided, sparing her modesty, but with a price. "You have to make out with my brother," I said, "for one minute."
And she did.
Of course, they had touched once before. She had brought him off with her hand, and he had tried unsuccessfully to grope her ass then, through the dress she was wearing that day -- the first day he had masturbated for her. But that was a while ago now. They both seemed a bit shy around each other now, even if you considered the games that we played. I guessed it was why he had not asked her out; that it was why she wanted so badly to keep her panties on in front of him.
Accepting my dare, she moved close and leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Softly at first, but then closing her eyes, and a flush rose on the top of her exposed breasts and her neck, and her breathing grew deeper and wow, the passion and pure youthful want in that kiss was electric.
He was rock rigid, down inside his briefs, and quite red in the face, when they broke. I excused myself, mumbling something about iced tea, thinking those two might want to be alone. But when I peeked down the stairs I could see the two of them, facing away from each other, dressing. What the hell?
A few days later, it was just Emily and me again, out on the deck, this time just sipping iced tea. There was no sangria, no dirty magazine now. She was uncharacteristically quiet, and I sensed there was something she wanted to say.
She reached into her purse and pulled out what I first thought was a pack of cigarettes. It was a deck of cards. She gave me an impish look. "Let's play strip poker!"
"Emily!" I laughed, thinking she was joking. "Do you really want to see me naked... again?"
She looked down, then back at me, and giggled. "Mm-hmmm" she smiled sheepishly.
"Emily," I gasped this time. "Are you ... is that why... Emily?" Truly a case of just not knowing what to say.
"I'm not gay, if that's what you're thinking," she responded. Her tone deepened. "But didn't you ever think, 'she's pretty,' you know, 'I wonder ... what she feels like, what it would be like to, you know, make out, with a girl?'"