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Luck Be A Lady 3

Luck Be A Lady 3

by raysofdawn
19 min read
4.73 (32800 views)
adultfiction
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This is a story that's been rattling around in my head for a while. It's entirely fictional and all characters in the story are above the age of eighteen. The words cock/dick and cunt/pussy are used interchangeably, depending on how it seems to work best at the moment.

--------------------+++++--------------------

The monthly poker night is a sacred tradition. The location changes depending on which of us has the best space available on the appointed day, but the player roster always remains the same. There's me -- Shane, 42, married, father of one -- and my crew of three best friends: James, 38, single and happy to stay that way; Alex, 43, separated but supposedly 'working it out' with the mother of his two college-age kids; and Terry, also 42, married father of three kids under the age of fifteen.

Alex and I have been friends since we were in college. We spent the four best years of our lives playing sports, attending parties, and occasionally completing schoolwork. We weren't the rowdiest two on campus, by far, but we got into our fair share of shenanigans. The other guys we met through an inter-office bowling league that turned out to be too boring for long term commitment, but introduced us to some really fun dudes I'm happy to spend one Saturday a month fleecing for cash one hand at a time.

This month's game is being held at the new home I've recently purchased with my wife, because the spacious finished basement has been designated my long-awaited 'man cave' and has the best sound system, a mini-bar, and a slick, professional-style poker table gifted to me by my lovely wife and daughter just this past Christmas. The table is hexagon shaped and made of beautifully lacquered dark oak wood with a lush, green felt top. Pricey as fuck, but well worth it.

We are three hands and a few drinks in when I hear footsteps descending the basement stairs.

"Thought you were rolling bachelor-style tonight," Terry inquired mildly, not bothering to look up from the cards he was shuffling back and forth in his hands.

"So did I," I answered, leaning back in my chair slightly for a better view of the stair landing. A pair of high heels and long legs become visible well before the rest of my daughter appears.

Terry is right, I'm supposed to be on my own tonight. My wife, Deanna, is out of town for the weekend. She usually finds something to occupy her time for whatever weekend my poker night lands on. She likes Alex and Terry, and she tolerates James, but she prefers not to be present when we're all together. Something about not being dragged down into frat-house humor or whatever. My daughter, Lainey, is supposed to be out with girlfriends at a party. I expected her home eventually, but not for hours yet.

Before Deanna left, she made me swear on my brand-new poker table to look after Lainey. It's not like I

don't

care for my kid, it's just that we've always had a little bit of an odd relationship. I'm not overly good at the parental stuff; all the discipline and lectures and rules stuff just never came easily to me. When she was growing up, Lainey and I were more like goofy siblings than parent and child. I loved to roam the woods looking for bugs and snakes with her. I snuck her out of school on multiple occasions just to have someone fun to see a new film with on opening day. I did not -- and still don't -- say 'no' to her very often. My wife has a problem with that. Things have been a little bit better since Lainey began maturing and wanting to do more grown up things on her own and with her friends, though she and my wife still butt heads on a pretty regular basis.

Lainey is nineteen and blissfully enjoying a freedom-filled gap year between high-school graduation and beginning college. Her mother worries that giving Lainey a year to laze around and party will stunt her ambition and derail her future, but I'm not worried. She's wickedly smart and stunningly beautiful, and I burst with pride every time I see her. What her head for numbers and details won't get her in life, her glossy brown curls, full lips, and brilliant green eyes will. Not to mention the legs. Legs for days.

The legs she gets from her mother. The eyes are all me.

"Hey, honey," I greet her with a smile. There's a slight wobble to her step that tells me she's probably had a drink or two, but her gaze is sharp and clear. "Party wind down early?"

"No, it was the worst!" She complains, wandering over and plopping unceremoniously down on my lap. I have to do some quick adjusting to save both my cards and my junk from imminent disaster. "I mean, it started off good, but the guys all wanted to get super wasted and turned it into a contest which ended in tears and vomit."

I try to suppress a laugh, but Alex makes no such attempt. Lainey's glare just makes him chuckle harder. "Sorry, kiddo. That's guys in their twenties for you."

James nods, flashing a grin at her that is -- as usual for James -- borderline inappropriate. "They're only ever thinking about one thing. And it's never the one thing you want them to be thinking about."

"Jesus, James," Terry muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I'm just saying!" James defends, waving a hand vaguely at Lainey. "If the rest of the girls at the party were dressed half as sharp as our little Lainey, those guys had no cause to be getting trashed when they could be getting friendly."

I'm aware that it's at this point that I should be getting pissed at James. I know my wife would be. James always has a bit of a loose tongue around pretty much everyone. No topic is ever too taboo for polite company, as far as he's concerned. Still, I can't really muster up much anger when Lainey seems to light up every time he makes a somewhat lewd comment wrapped in a compliment. I first noticed her responding like that a couple years ago. I'm pretty sure she's got a crush.

Also, he's sort of got a point. With her sitting in my lap, I'm in a unique position to appreciate just how soft -- and tight -- the deep green, sheath mini-dress she's wearing compliments her eyes so perfectly and how it hugs every curve of her body. The thin shoulder straps keep the criminally plunging neckline from being outright indecent, but only just.

She's not wearing a bra I note, and try to immediately forget, although that's difficult to do when directly across from me, there's a liquor cabinet at the mini-bar with a shiny, glass door that perfectly reflects the image of Lainey sitting in my lap with her nipples hard and jutting up beneath the dress fabric. I really didn't think it was that cold in the basement.

Then again, I'm fully dressed.

"Exactly!" Lainey exclaims, grinning broadly at James. "How lame do you have to be to get wasted instead of getting lucky?"

"

So

lame," James intones very seriously, then smirks again.

I groan and shake my head, trying not to jostle Lainey too much in my lap. "I think that's enough talk about getting lucky, thanks."

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Lainey turns her head and pouts at me over her shoulder. "Don't be like that! Maybe you can get lucky? I bet if I stay here, you'll win big. I can do it for you!"

She snatches my cards from my hands and arranges and rearranges them in her own. I shrug and wrap my arms around her waist, resigned. "I guess we'll see."

My hopes are not high. I'm not even sure she knows how to play poker.

Then again, there are worse ways to lose a few bucks.

+++

The next couple hands go shockingly well for me and my new poker partner. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. I'm not sure James' eyes ever left Lainey's chest long enough to even look at his cards. Of course, sitting directly across from her puts him at a spectacular disadvantage in that respect. The other two fare slightly better, but they're obviously not playing their best.

Honestly, I'm not hating how tonight's game is shaking out financially or otherwise. And if I get to sit back, relax, and enjoy the shifting of a shapely ass against my crotch every time Lainey leans forward to scoop money across the table to her growing pile of winnings, who's to complain? Certainly not my three best friends who have front-row seats to the spectacular view down her cleavage each time. Hell, they may be losing on purpose, at this point.

That preoccupation, it seems, can only take them so far before they begin to take offense to their dwindling funds.

"Fuck you, Shane," Alex mutters half-heartedly as he folds once more. "Your lucky charm is kicking our asses."

I struggle not to choke when his comment causes Lainey to giggle and squirm just as I swallow a sip of whiskey from my glass. I cough a second before clearing my throat and giving him a wide smile. "Maybe you just suck at poker?"

"Or maybe you should share the wealth?" Terry mutters, then blinks at his half-empty glass as though wondering if he's had too much.

I'm wondering the same thing about all of us. If I wasn't drinking, would I be sitting here with a hard-on inside the finest denim Wrangler has to offer, while my scantily-clad daughter wriggles in my lap? I'm telling myself no, just like I'm telling myself that the drink is also responsible for the complete lack of concern I have about James, Alex, and Terry eye-fucking her from their various seats around the table.

It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the thrill that goes through me whenever I think that she's my daughter -- mine -- and I'm the one allowing them this.

A proprietary thrill shoots through my body and pools in my groin.

She's mine

, I think as one hand sinks from her waist to rest on her bare thigh below the mini-skirt.

Mine

, I think again with a rush when she spreads her legs just a bit wider in invitation, still appearing every bit as focused on the cards as she has for the last two hands.

Mine

, I want to moan, my hand flexing on the soft flesh of her inner thigh... and it feels hot. So much hotter than the palm of my hand.

"Maybe later," I murmur, not caring that my voice has gone husky or that my friends are giving me surprised or appraising looks. Or are they eager? "I'm not done, yet."

Lainey gives a breathy giggle and leans back more heavily into me, the motion inching her further down my lap and my hand further up her thigh. My fingertips brush the edge of lacy panties, already damp with promise.

"Whose deal is it?" Terry asks with a voice that's clearly straining to stay neutral.

"Mine," Alex answers, shaking himself from his nipple-induced stupor and reaching for the deck. James and Terry don't bother to take their hungry gazes from Lainey's body while Alex shuffles.

I can't even blame them. I'm lost, myself, my fingers stroking slow and teasing up and down the soft lace covering Lainey's slit. The panties are moist from her arousal and the knowledge that my daughter's been sitting here wet and horny in my lap for nearly an hour has my cock twitching in my jeans. I don't even stop to consider how far over every line I am before I slide my fingers under the panties and dip in between her slick lips to sink my ring finger into her pussy.

Lainey plays off her moan as pleasure over the cards she's been dealt, but I'm more than certain no one at the table is buying it. Across from us, James in particular can clearly see the muscles in my arm working as I steadily finger her, sliding my index finger in alongside the ring and working her clit with my thumb. I pretend not to notice his intense gaze and stare fixedly at the cards in Lainey's hands. At gunpoint, I couldn't have said what any of them were.

"Mmmm," Lainey hums, licking her lips mindlessly while she struggles to stay still. There's a hitch to her words like there are moans behind them, struggling to break free. "Do we have wild cards?"

"Twos and sevens," I answer without bothering to consult the others. They don't care. Haven't cared since she sat down. I don't care either, but when I let my voice go low and rumble the answer against the side of her neck, she trembles in my arms and her pussy clenches around my fingers.

"Uh huh," she gasps, squirming.

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From the corner of my eye, I can see sweat has broken out on Terry's forehead. He's been shifting quite a bit in his seat, as well, and I know if I looked under the table I'd see him sporting a hard-on, too. James has one, no question, his intense gaze and harsh breath can only be arousal. Alex looks dazed, his eyes moving from his cards, to Lainey's heaving chest, to my arm disappearing beneath the table, and back... again and again.

I feel fucking powerful. I love it.

The usual round of discarding and drawing begins and I only half watch. The guys are making an effort to stay in the game, but their hearts clearly aren't in it. Or heads. Or anything that isn't their dicks. There's barely any discussion before Lainey produces a weak three-of-a-kind and the others fold without ever showing their cards.

When Lainey leans forward to collect her winnings, I plunge a third finger into her and she freezes with her torso flat against the felt, arms stretched out before her. She whines low and needy and I nearly cum then and there.

Then she straightens up again. A throaty laugh escapes her as she pats the not-insignificant pile of coins and bills in front of us. "They might be right, Daddy. Fair's fair. You've won a lot so far. I better spread the love around."

Daddy

. Christ, she hasn't called me that in forever.

My fingers slip free and three sets of wide eyes follow her as she slowly gets to her feet. She takes a second to tug her skirt back down into proper position from where it's ridden up, then walks around the table to my left. I've either never noticed before or she's doing it for show, but each step on her high heels makes her hips and ass sway. The sight makes me want to pull her back down into my lap, but I force myself to wait and see where this goes.

She stops beside Alex's chair and smiles sweetly at him. "Want a stroke of luck, Uncle Alex?"

It's entirely possible Alex isn't even breathing right now. His wide, glassy eyes stare up at her like an uncomprehending supplicant at the foot of a goddess. Never mind that she hasn't called him 'uncle' since she was in middle school. Never mind that he's technically as married as I am. Never mind that he has to be aware of what I've just spent the last few minutes doing to her. Every line of his body screams that he wants her.

"Always."

He swallows hard and pushes his seat back from the table slightly to accommodate her. I can't see his erection from where I sit, but I see him go red when she sees it and I see him go redder still when she perches directly atop it. He's the only one of us not wearing jeans and I can vividly imagine the front of his track pants being soaked with pre-cum already. The thought of it against her already moist panties is not one I imagined I'd enjoy so much.

Lainey wiggles until she's pleased with her seat and Alex is making soft, strangled noises, then reaches for the cards to hand them over to James. "Your deal, Uncle Jamie."

My little girl has never called James 'uncle' before... or 'Jamie', for that matter. He's always let her call him by his first name and since she was small she has always delighted in being on a first name basis with 'grown ups'. When she uses the title on him now, his nostrils flare and he swallows hard. 'Uncle' must do it for him as much as 'Daddy' does it for me.

"Sure thing, baby girl," he rasps as he takes the cards and begins to shuffle. His hands work the cards with expert technique, even though his eyes never leave Lainey's face, her neck, her chest. He's leering openly, clearly committing every detail to his spank bank for later use.

In Alex's lap, Lainey's eyes are closed and there's a blissful little smile on her lips. Alex's hands are invisible beneath the table, but the muscles in his right arm are working overtime. He's really putting some effort into it.

"Fours and Jacks wild," James says as he begins to deal the cards. Then he licks his lips and declares, "Winner gets to use the lucky charm."

I am aware, once again, that I should be protesting his wording, if nothing else. I should be incandescent with rage that my best friends want to 'use' my daughter for anything. I'm... not, though. James isn't the only one fueling up his spank bank tonight. I'm fully prepared to see where this goes, so long as Lainey is still onboard.

If the flushed cheeks and parted, panting lips are anything to judge by, she is.

She gives a lazy smile and nods, happily consenting and I realize in that moment that I'm going to lose this hand. On purpose.

"I suggest you play hard, then," is what I tell James, "Because I'm about to get back what's mine."

Even though I know I'm going to lose, it still gives me a thrill to declare her mine. I'm enjoying reminding them whose daughter this is. They're all lucky as fuck right now and they should know it.

The poker hand progresses as normal and it's clear James and Terry have both put their game faces back on. Terry is still sweating like the AC isn't blasting, even though it has been the entire time. James shifts restlessly in his seat and glares at his cards as though he's ordering them to cooperate. Alex is trying, I can tell, but he's knuckles deep inside Lainey's cunt and gasping almost as hard as she is, so concentration's not really happening for him right now. Well, not on a card game.

As for myself, I'm putting all my effort into not reaching for my dick, even though it's aching inside my jeans that are nearly soaked through with pre-cum. And on deciding which cards I'm holding are the best and therefore have to be discarded. Sure, I could play well and try to win. I might even succeed, but I've already had Lainey in my lap tonight and I promise myself I will again, but not right now. Right now, I want to see what Alex, James, and Terry do with her. What she lets them do with her.

The thought of them passing her back and forth between them, nearly makes me give up on not reaching for my cock. I knew I had a touch of a voyeurism kink, but nothing like this.

No one is more surprised than Terry when he wins the hand. He stares, open mouthed, at his cards where they lay on the table while James looks both mutinous and depressed. Alex is absolutely devastated. For half a second I think he might cry, but then Lainey turns her head and reaches a hand up to pull him into a filthy kiss.

"Don't worry, Uncle Alex," she gasps when they part, "I'm sure I'll be back."

She gets up then and all four of us hold our breaths when we watch her slip out of Alex's lap and not even bother to adjust her dress before she starts around the table, this time. Her skirt is hiked high enough to show her black lacy panties soaked and pushed aside where my best friend had been going to town fingering her. There was a clear view of a strip of soft, well-trimmed curls peeking out beside them each time she takes a step on those gorgeous heels.

Lainey pauses behind James who is still glaring daggers at Terry. She rests her hands on his shoulders and leans down to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. The motion presses her tits against the back of his neck and shoulders and I imagine he can feel those rock-hard nipples jabbing him in the back. Lucky bastard.

"Don't be sad, Uncle Jamie. The game's not over." She kisses his cheek again and when he turns his head trying to catch her in a proper kiss, she giggles and lets him have a quick, teasing one. "Plenty of time, still, for you to get lucky."

"But, not right now," Terry interrupts, finally finding his voice. He's got a dark look I've never seen on his face before, but one that explains why he has three children so close together with his lovely wife. I imagine that look is a guaranteed panty dropper.

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