tits, 'would stand out in a crowd.' She basked in the man's attention. Her hand stroked over one of his mighty biceps as she asked, 'What do you do? From the size of your arms, you must be an alligator wrestler.'
'Nothing so thrilling,' he said, laughing, then drinking the remnants of his highball. 'I work for Mr. Steele.' He said the name as if that explained everything. She had never heard of Mr. Steele and said so.
'Really? I thought everyone here would know him.'
'Tanya, it's getting late,' said Charlie irritably. 'Let's go.'
'So go, if you think it's late,' she said brutally. 'I think I'll stay and find out a bit more about my new friend…' She let her sentence drift away because she hadn't found out this scrumptious man's name yet.
'Marcus,' he told her. 'I work for Mr. Steele.' He glanced up and locked eyes with Charlie. Charlie nervously shifted from foot to foot, then left without another word.
Tanya was impressed with Marcus' power. In more ways then one.
'He must be important, this Mr. Steele.'
'About the most important man in the room,' said Marcus, glancing around. 'And I'm sure he would be willing to meet you. Even eager. He's always interested in beautiful women who are willing to take a chance.'
'What makes you think I'd take a chance?'
'Then you're willing?'
'For the right man,' she said. She moved closer to Marcus, her leg pressing into his crotch. The warmth from the man's body thrilled her and the promise given by the huge bulge between his legs told her she'd done the right thing in sending Charlie away. Let the man think she was a prick teaser. She'd show him! Would she ever show him if she could get him alone?
'Mr. Steele enjoys a poker game now and then, usually once a month, about this time. If you like, I'll try to get you into the game.'
'Sure,' she said, not caring in the least about any poker game. She played well, but was more interested in other things right now. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Marcus' arms around her, crushing the life from her. Her nipples began to harden at the thought. She wanted them pressing into the man's broad chest, feeling the crinkly, sandy hair covering that expanse of man flesh. The woman wanted him to squeeze her until her bones snapped and her entire body protested.
'This way,' he said, taking her elbow and guiding her along. She started to protest and pull away. Tanya found she couldn't. That light hold on her elbow effectively guided her into the next room where a green felt- covered table already had stacks of chips on it.
She swallowed hard. Three of the men were cut from the same cloth as Marcus. Huge, powerful, dominant men. The three women already seated were gorgeous. She self-consciously shrugged her shoulders to make her cleavage all the more daring. Pulling her shoulders back and shoving out her chest caused the hardened nipples to poke against the thin fabric and create tiny wrinkles. She was beautiful and knew it.
But the other women obviously knew they were seductively pretty, too, and made the best of that knowledge to play up to the fourth man at the table.
Tanya didn't have to be told he was Mr. Steele. The man's presence dominated the entire room. He sat quietly, his swarthy face calm, aloof, impassive. She wondered what thoughts raged behind those hawk-like eyes? They must be potent ones, she guessed, because she felt cold shivers go up and down her spine. This was a man used to commanding – and being obeyed.
This was a man she wanted to know better.
'Sit,' he said, his voice calm and level. 'And we shall begin.' He glanced at Tanya and asked, 'Has Marcus told you the rules?'
'Poker,' she said, trying to be casual about it even though she was raging inside. 'What more do I need to know?'
'We play for more than simple table stakes,' said Mr. Steele patiently. She wondered if fire ever burned in those eyes, the fire of arousal, sexual arousal caused by a woman. She wanted to be the one to find out.
'I don't care.'
'Good,' he said. 'I like that attitude. It shows you are in command of your own mind and body. Cut for deal.'
The play went swiftly, expertly. Tanya had learned to play in a hard school and won fairly consistently, the chips piling in front of her. But Mr. Steele's game wasn't that of an amateur. He won, gradually and soon only the pair of them were left in the game.
'Get the others out of here,' said Mr. Steele to Marcus. The burly man opened the door and ushered out the other women. The men at the table leaned back and watched the play continue between Tanya and Mr. Steele as if it were the most interesting spectator sport in the world.
Tanya couldn't figure out what was going through the men's minds. They eyed her almost exclusively, as if staring at Mr. Steele would cause them to turn into pillars of salt. Their continued study of her made her a little nervous. She felt the tension in the air – and it was a highly sexual tension she couldn't understand.
She began to lose. Gradually, a few chips at a time, then more and more. Soon, she was busted. 'I guess that makes me the winner,' said Mr. Steele.
'Not so fast,' she said. 'I've still got something to play with.' She stood and skinned out of her cocktail dress. She rolled it into a ball and tossed it onto the table. 'Another pot with that instead of chips.'
'It's been a long time, Mr. Steele,' started one of the watching men. 'Why not go along with her?'
'I do like her spirit,' the dark-visaged man conceded. 'Very well, young lady. If you know what the end result is likely to be if you should lose everything.'
'Would I really lose, if I lost all my clothes?' she asked coyly, trying to lock eyes with the mysterious Mr. Steele. The man sat with his face shrouded in the shadows. She saw a glimmer of light that might have meant his eyes twinkled.
'Deal.'
She dealt. And lost. Marcus took her dress off the table and vanished with it. She wondered if she could recoup her loses. The man against her played conservatively. She could win with a bold move now. Both of her shoes were lost on the next hand.
'I still have enough to bet with,' she said, standing and moving away from the table. She was clothed now only in her bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. She began to undo the garter belt when Mr. Steele's sharp, 'No!' stopped her.
'Why not?' she asked.
'The bra – or forfeit everything.'
She seductively undid the bra, bringing the cups off her voluptuous tits in a slow, teasing motion. She shivered as a blast of cool air from the air conditioner raked across her turgid nipples. She was still turned on by the brief encounter with Marcus. Or was it Marcus at all who turned her on now?
She had to admit the idea of fucking Mr. Steele stayed high in her mind. The other women weren't two-bit whores – nor were they thousand-dollar call girls. They were sexy, sensuous, sex-starved women who wanted what she now had a chance at. They couldn't be wrong. And everything Tanya had seen so far told her that they weren't wrong.
Mr. Steele was intensely desirable. That he insisted on having the other inch stare at her naked tits only turned her on more.
This was a man such as she'd never seen before. And she wanted him. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted a man in her life. And she would get him!
She lost the bra to a full house. Her panties were lost, by a narrow margin. He had two pair, aces high. Her two pair had been sevens high. Clad only in her stockings and garter belt, she felt her pussy begin to churn in excitement at what she was wantonly going to suggest.
She knew she should leave right now. But she couldn't just walk away and pass up the opportunities she knew could, be hers.
'I'll offer a bit more than table stakes,' she said. 'I think you know what I mean.' She licked her lips seductively and leaned forward just enough to let her tits dangle. The sight of ruddy figure eights traced out by her nipples as her tits bobbed around would have been enough to give any man a hard-on. She wouldn't have been surprised to see the table start to rise – from Mr. Steele's stiffening prick.
Nothing of the sort happened. And the man's voice was as calm as it had ever been. She felt a surge of
