My name is Brandon and today is my eighteenth birthday. Normally, this would be a big family affair with my parents, older brother and three younger sisters, but circumstances have come up beyond anyone's control. My brother is in the Army and returned to his duty station from a stint overseas. He is stuck at his base, which is about a thousand miles away, and is not allowed to be more than forty miles outside the gates.
He misses his family, which is understandable, but I wasn't born into a family that can afford to travel at the drop of a dime. His time is short before going overseas again and my parents can only afford four plane tickets. After a lengthy family discussion, it has been decided that my father and sisters will go while I stay home with mom. I'm not about to complain about bucking family tradition, since we're going to celebrate as a family when my dad and sisters get back.
Shortly after leaving for the airport, my mom says, "I'm so sorry, Brandon. I know you were looking forward to spending today with your family." There is disappointment in her blue eyes, but I'm not quite certain what the source might be. It could be she is truly sorry that we aren't at home as a family today or that we can't all fly out, but most likely some combination of the two.
I smile at my mom to try to get her to cheer up as I say, "It's OK, mom. It's not like he planned to come back to his base to ruin my birthday. The Army does things on their own time, not ours."
She smiles at my answer and brushes her blond bangs that have fallen over her eyes back. She says, "Well, Brandon, it's your birthday. No sense letting these things stop you from enjoying the day. What do you want to do?"
I think for a moment, then say, "I want to play poker."
She smiles at my answer, which I believe to be a sign of relief since it won't cost any money. Those plane tickets put a tremendous strain on the budget. She says, "Good idea. I'll get the cards."
She gets up and walks to the bookcase where the cards are kept and returns quickly. As she passes me, she sets the deck in front of me and sits down. I move from the couch to the arm chair and take the deck with me.
After several games, I'm not doing particularly well. It's a good thing there's no money on the line, since I would have lost it all by now. There's a smug look on my mother's face, since she is generally the one that ends up losing most hands. I say, "You're mighty proud of yourself, mom."
I see her eyes shine with pride as she says, "Damn right. Nice to be on the winning side for a change."
I take a moment to let that look sink in and I'm not exactly pleased by her response. This is my birthday. It might be petty to be upset over something like this, but I can't help it. I ask, "How about we make it more interesting?"
I see her eyes go from pride to concern and know she is worried I want to make financial wagers. In a cautious voice, she asks, "More interesting, how?"
I quickly blurt out, "Strip poker." I have no idea where that came from, but write it off to wanting to see her back out and call the game over. Sure, I've had the occasional fantasy about her, but not like anything will ever happen.
She does not answer immediately and you know she is weighing things in her mind. After several moments of silence, she says, "Fine, it's your birthday. If that's what you want, I'll play. But no one can know, understood?"
I nod in complete agreement and say, "I won't tell anyone, mom. I promise." I want to ask if she's sure, but refrain. I am too busy doing an inventory of the clothing we are both wearing to determine how many hands I have to win.
The first hand costs me my shoes. She laughs as I remove them and put them aside. I don't like her laughing at my losing and want to win the next hand badly. Unfortunately, my socks quickly join my shoes.
The next hand finds me victorious and she quickly removes her shoes to show her bare feet. At least I don't have to win a couple more hands to make things interesting. Except, I lose the next hand and remove my shirt. I only have my pants and underwear left and not in the best of moods. My luck is not with me as I soon find myself in only my underwear.
She smirks at me as she says, "One more hand and I win."
I get a little angry and say, "You haven't won yet."
I win the next hand and she is forced to remove her shirt. She gathers her nerve and removes her shirt quickly. My eyes move to her bra, which conceals some good sized tits. They appear to be medium in size, which could be a lot of fun under different circumstances. I feel my dick twitch and bring my eyes back up. She does not act like she noticed that I was ogling her.
The next hand brings another victory and she removes her pants quickly. There is nothing sexy about her panties at all. They cover everything and I have to wonder if she trims her bush. My cock is no longer twitching as it has become rock hard. I don't bother concealing my erection, since that would be impossible wearing only underwear.
