By Friday evening, Nestor Burns was on top of the world, while at the same time Sally Baxter was sinking slowly into the depths of depression.
After receiving Baxter's check at lunch on Monday, Burns had gone directly to the bank to cash it. On Tuesday when Rocky Olson paid his visit, the detective's luck had finally turned. First thing, he paid Olson back his two hundred dollars. Next thing, he wangled Olson into a card game that very evening. By two in the morning as the chips were cashed in, Burns found that he had won back the two hundred dollars plus an extra fifty.
"Well, I'll be damned," Olson had muttered in genuine surprise, "I never thought I'd see you actually win a game."
"Try me again, sweetheart," Burns laughed. "The bank's open all week." And sure enough, Olson had taken up the detective's offer.
From Tuesday on, Nestor Burns' apartment had turned into a casino, and by early Friday evening empty whiskey bottles were strewn all over the bare wood floor. An old shoe box on the big sturdy table in the middle of the living room bulged with green bills. The room was choking with thick smoke from cigars and cigarettes, and in the very center of it, three exhausted men played on with an air of intense concentration… Burns, Rocky Olson and a tall, powerful man who went by the nickname of Slope. By seven-thirty that evening Olson was muttering disgustedly to himself. He had removed his shirt and his powerful muscles bulged out from under his tee-shirt. Every few minutes he ran his stubby fingers through the thick locks of his dark greasy hair, as though in an effort to keep himself awake.
Next to him, Slope hunched over the table blinking his eyes to keep awake. The oversized wiry man was nearly seven feet tall, and his hands spread out almost to the size of catcher's-mits to conceal the cards within them.
Burns chortled to himself as his two cronies agonized over their hands. He was sitting in a throne on top of the world, and nothing was going to knock him off. For the first time in ages he was winning… winning big, but that wasn't the half of it. At eight o'clock the luscious little Baxter bitch was going to walk through the door of his apartment with a handbag stuffed full of bills… five thousand bucks, and every penny of it was gong to be for Nestor Burns. With that kind of stake he could clean these guys out of every cent.
"For Christ's sake," Olson grumbled. "I can't even see any more."
"Keep playin' baby," Burns urged. He wasn't about to let anybody drop out of the game now.
"You sure you ain't playin' with a marked deck?" the giraffe-like man muttered.
"You looked at the deck three times already, Slope. What do you want me to do, wash it off with soap?"
"When's this dame comin' that you were talkin' about all week? That's the only reason I'm stickin' around," Rocky said.
"Me too," Slope grumbled.
"Soon, soon," Burns assured them.
Sally couldn't help but notice the suspicious way Rod had been keeping an eye on her on Friday evening at dinner. She was so nervous thinking about getting those films back she had burned the roast and dropped two dishes as she cleared the table. Fortunately, though, he had not pressed her about where she was going. It was as though he had steeled himself against some inevitable disaster. Shortly after dinner he had retired to the den and turned on the television. She could hear it blaring out from downstairs now as she hurried up to the bedroom.
Once inside she clicked the door shut and locked it. Nervously, her trembling fingers counted out the large bills she had stuffed inside her handbag… five thousand dollars exactly. It had been pure hell getting the money, and as a last resort she had been forced to go to a finance company, pledging the Jaguar, which was in her name, as collateral. Quickly now she wrapped a rubber band around the bulging wad of money and stuffed it back inside as she prayed that this would be the end of it all… That money was the last hope to ransom her freedom. Why, why, she sighed despairingly, had she let herself get carried away with those young boys at the park? Thank God she was being given a second chance. All she had to do now was pay off that horrible detective, and then she would be free. And once she was free, she was going to get rid of her horrible panty compulsion no matter how hard it would be.
The calling card on which she had scribbled the detective's address was stuffed deep inside her handbag, and with her fingers shaking violently, she fished it out to glance at the number one last time. It was then that she heard the creaking noise outside the bedroom door. Her heart caught in her throat and pounded violently… Silence. She could hear the blood ringing in her ears but then as quickly as the sudden fear had seized her, it disappeared. She heard Rod's footsteps treading lightly away from the door over the padded hallway carpet unto the bathroom. She had to act quickly now. She had to leave while her husband was still in the bathroom and since she would be gone only for a couple of hours, it would be easy enough to come up with an alibi for the hundreds of questions Rod was going to ask her.
Mustering all the courage in her soul, Sally crumpled up the address and flung it into the wastebasket next to the bed. Then she hurried out the bedroom door down the stairs and outside to the garage.
From inside the bathroom Rod Baxter could hear the roar of the Jaguar as its engine started. This was it, he thought painfully to himself. The detective had been right after all. Sally was cheating on him. A deep pang of hurt stabbed at his heart as he peered out the bathroom window out of the driveway and roar down the neat tree-shaded suburban street…
"I've had it," Rocky Olson grumbled in exhaustion as he slapped his cards down on the table.
"Me too," Slope agreed. "It's ten after eight, and this chick ain't even showed up yet."
"I thought you guys wanted to play cards," Burns chided.
"Enough is enough. We been playin' cards all week."
"All right, all right," Burns conceded, taking a glance at his watch. He was getting worried now, but the sudden ringing of the doorbell caused his face to light up in a big smile of relief.
"Come in, the door's open, baby," Burns sang out sweetly. A second later the door was pushed hesitantly open to reveal a tall voluptuous young woman dressed in a daring short suede miniskirt.
"Well, I'll be…" Olson whistled under his breath, hardly able to believe his eyes. Slope's jaw dropped.
"Come in, Mrs. Baxter," Burns repeated and as she obeyed, the hungry eyes of the poker players followed her lithely enticing form, fixing on her as though she were a love Goddess from another planet.
The long willowy columns of her luscious legs rose gracefully from her high-heeled leather shoes, flared out alluringly just above the knee and disappeared beneath her skimpy suede miniskirt.
Her shimmering pink silk blouse could barely contain the warmly swelling mounds of her breasts beneath, and the golden locks of her lustrous blonde hair flowed down in light buoyant curls to her shoulders. Her hands curled casually through the straps of her pocketbook, and try though she might, she could barely conceal their trembling nervousness.
"I believe we have some business, Mr. Burns," she announced as calmly as she could.
"Right this way… You remember the bedroom don't you, Mrs. Baxter?" Burns said in sadistic delight as she blushed at his words.
The detective's cronies followed her with their eyes in silent amazement as she disappeared into the shabby bedroom and the door shut behind her.
"Here's your money," Sally said finally as she coldly handed him the rolled up wad of bills. God, she wanted nothing more than to leave this horrible apartment as quickly as possible. Already the bitter memories of her indecent humiliation here were beginning to lewdly flood her mind. "Now – I would like the films."
Burns undid the rubber band and began counting the bills rapidly, wetting his fingers with the tip of his tongue.
"That's right, Mrs. Baxter… exactly right," he said as he stuffed it into the front pocket of his trousers.
"Now the films, please," she demanded impatiently.
Uppity little bitch, Burns thought to himself. He'd like to teach her a thing or two before she slipped through his hands.
"Sure, sure… Nestor Burns is as good as his word," the detective smiled lewdly. Brushing past her, he crawled beneath the bed and began searching for the film canister. For a long moment, however, he hesitated even though he had already located what he was looking for.
It had all been so easy, he thought to himself. This Baxter bitch was a real pushover, and it was a shame to let her go now… especially with that snotty attitude of hers. Hell, he would just love to hear her begging and screaming for cock the way he had forced her to do before. Besides, she just might be the extra added attraction to keep Rocky and Slope at the gaming table while he took their money.
Slowly he withdrew the film canister from under the bed and straightened up to face her, his hands still tightly clutching it on either side.
"G-give it to me," Sally stammered hesitantly, reaching impulsively for it. In a sudden frantic effort she tried to jerk it away from the detective, but he merely cracked a wide, lewd smile.
"Not so fast, Mrs. Baxter… There's one more thing…"
"You promised," she hissed vehemently through clenched teeth. "You said you would give it to me." Her fiery blue eyes bored fiercely into the detective's snidely smiling face.
"Sure, sure," Burns said soothingly. "But how do you know I didn't make another print?"
Her eyes, livid with rage now, flashed angrily at him. "You-you couldn't," she faltered. Casually, he tossed the film canister on the bed as she remained helplessly paralyzed with rage. She should have know it all along. He had tricked her, and she had fallen for it.
"I suppose it's more money you want?"
"Not at all, Mrs. Baxter," Burns said graciously. "I'm going to give you a chance to win back those films."
"Win back – what do you mean?"
"I'm going to let you join our little poker game out there."
"But I hardly…"
"It's all right," he offered generously. "We'll teach you. Poker is a very simple game. In fact, it's mostly luck."
"I-I don't understand," Sally stammered in confusion. "You don't want my money, but you want me to play poker."
"That's right, Mrs. Baxter… strip poker. All you need is your clothes to play."
Sally's mouth opened in amazement, but the words choked in her throat. Suddenly she began to feel dizzy.
She had seen the repulsive sweaty looking men in the other room, and the very sight of them had sent shivers of disgust running up her spine. Now she was being asked to play strip poker with them. Her whole body rebelled against the thought until tears of rage choked her eyes.
"You have no choice, Mrs. Baxter," Burns reminded her. "And besides, you know you'll like it… You'll like showing my friends those sexy little panties of yours, won't you?"
Burns' voice had become low and hypnotic as he moved toward her slowly, inch by inch. Her eyes glazed with fright, she back away from him toward the wall behind her.
"Noooo, noo," she pleaded hoarsely.
"You have no choice, Mrs. Baxter," Burns repeated in a low soothing voice, and before she knew what was happening she could feel his body pressing tightly against hers, his hot whiskey-laden breath inflaming the pure white softness of her cheeks.
"No… No… I won't," she protested vainly, shaking her head from side to side as he closed in on her.
The detective's hand suddenly dropped against her tightly clenched legs and began moving up toward the hem of her dress. Slowly it glided in between the warmly trembling flesh of her thighs. Frozen in fear, she could feel his fingers traveling up, up over her smooth nylon stockings toward the thin strip of the brief white bikini panties, nestled like a soft warm pillow between her legs as she stood rigid he backed against the wall.
"You'll like showing us those flimsy little panties of yours… just the way you did to those young boys."
"Please… please!" Sally squealed.
"You have no choice," he repeated again as his hand slowly withdrew from up between her legs. "My friends are waiting."
Sally closed her eyes in desperation and leaned her head back against the wall. There was no choice now, there was nothing else she could do but face her fate. And perhaps there was a chance… some slight chance that she could escape the humiliation Burns had planned for her.
"Are you coming?" Burns breathed against her cheek.
"Yes… yes… I'm coming," she choked.
The excited whisperings that had passed between the two amazed men in the other room died down as Burns emerged followed by the beautiful woman.
"We got a new player," he announced, pulling up a chair for her. "This should keep up your interest in the game."
As the lewdly grinning faces followed her every move, Sally eased herself into the chair Burns offered, her arms remaining rigidly at her sides. God, she shivered, how repulsive these men are. The dark-haired one was already undressing her with his greedy eyes and she could see his tongue wetly licking his lips. The tall one sitting directly across from her looked almost like a moron, his mouth hanging agape, his massive hands cupped together like gigantic sledge hammers on the table.
Burns, meanwhile, had disappeared once again into the bedroom to find clean glasses, telling himself he was going to ply that Baxter bitch with booze until she loosened up enough to spread her long legs and swallow some great big cocks inside that dean little pussy of hers. He had an idea the evening might turn into just a little bit more than a strip poker game, and Nestor Burns was not about to miss out on the fun – especially if it could be turned to his profit. Hell, Rocky and Slope would have their eyes so glued on that chick they'd forget how to play cards!
By the time Burns returned to the other room, Rocky was in the midge of explaining the game of poker to the frightened woman.
"Now, you think you understand?" he was saying, his bare arm around the back of her chair.
"Of course, she understands," the detective said jovially as he slid into his seat. "Now what d'ya say we cut cards?"
Sally's throat suddenly felt parched and dry with fear. She knew the basic rules of the game, and the practice hands had refreshed her memory, but still it was an uphill battle, though she had made up her mind to fight it with the best of her ability. Sitting rigidly on the edge of her chair, she watched the detective scoop up the cards in preparation for the first hand.
"Ante up," Burns commanded, as he shuffled the deck, his fingers expertly bending the cards to his will. Olson and Slope leered conspiratorially at each other and tossed their chips on the table.
"Don't I get any chips?" Sally asked in a quavering voice. The three men exchanged amazed glances and suddenly burst out in loud guffaws.
"No, baby, you use your clothes, remember? This is strip poker," Burns reminded her.
Sally's face turned red amid the roaring laughter of the uncouth men surrounding her. It was hopeless to run away now. She needed those films desperately, and this was the only way she was going to get them. Hesitantly she pushed her chair back and stretched out her leg, reaching for the buckle of her patent leather shoe. God, she thought, they were really going to make her go through with this.
Rocky's eyes riveted on the silk smoothness of her enticingly outstretched leg as he bent forward to observe it closely. While Sally struggled with the dainty silver buckle her miniskirt rode up high on her deliciously flaring thighs to reveal the black lace of her garter belt to Olson's lewdly leering eyes. She jerked at the strap clumsily and slid the shoe off her foot.
"I'll see you and raise two," Olson announced confidently as Sally slid the shoe across the table into the pile of chips.
"I'll see you and pass," Slope said dumbly. Rocky glared at him for not raising. Hell, his bulging cock was already throbbing crazily in his pants, and he wasn't about to wait all night to get this beautiful little bitch undressed.
"Call," Burns snapped, his eyes fixed lewdly on the beautiful woman he was going to humiliate.
"W-what does that mean?" Sally croaked hoarsely.
"That means you owe two more, baby," Burns informed her.
Sally shifted to the other side of the chair away from Olson's lascivious gaze, but it was hopeless. Now she was directly in Burns' line of sight, and as he glowered at her lasciviously a shiver of repulsion swept up her spine. Her fingers worked rapidly to undo her other shoe. She wanted to get this over with as soon as she could. Hurriedly she slid the shoe off and piled it on top of the first one.
"Un uh, baby. You owe one more," Rocky snarled.
"One more?"
"Stop playing dumb," Burns snapped. "Take off your stocking."
It was hopeless, she thought to herself as she saw the glazed lewd look on the detective's face. There was no way to escape the humiliation that Burns had planned for her. Her fingers trembling, she bent forward again on the chair, stretching the firm voluptuous whiteness of her leg out to its full length. She could feel the coolness of the bare floor against the bottom of her stocking clad foot now.
All three men bent forward eagerly, their eyes devouring the lusciously beautiful woman who was beginning to roll the hem of her suede miniskirt back up over her full firm thighs.
Her fingers were shaking so desperately she could barely undo the garter snap.
"Need some help?" Burns leered, edging his way over to her. Before she realized what was happening he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. His powerful hands gripped her foot and ground it up in between his legs against his crotch so that she could feel the hard rigid bulge inside his pants. As her toes squirmed against it in revulsion, it suddenly leaped up even harder inside his pants. While his one hand held her foot in place between his legs, the other hand slid slowly up the length of her stocking sheathed calf, up over the trembling whiteness of the back of her thigh. She could see his tongue lewdly licking his lips as his fingers curled underneath the top of her stocking. She sat rigid, her entire body immobilized in fear, and in spite of herself she could feel the first tiny sparks of desire beginning to lick at her loins, as she found herself being undressed in front of these obscenely leering men. She shivered as Burns jerked the stocking rudely away from the garter snap, and his fingers began to massage the white tremulous softness of her naked young thigh. Slowly, inch by inch his hands guided the smooth material of the stocking down over the ripely flaring curie of her leg, brushing against her voluptuously naked thigh and sending ripples of sensation reverberating upward to the pit of her belly.
With a sudden jerking motion, he pulled her foot harder against his stiffening penis, trapping it between his legs, gliding the stocking up over her heel and away. She jerked her leg, but his hands closed over her ankle in a vise-tight grip. Involuntarily, her toes squirmed against the lust-bloated sac of his balls beneath. Finally he released her, and she withdrew her leg quickly beneath her chair.
"Who wants cards?" Burns said, resuming his place, dangling the stocking like a trophy in the air above the chips. Slowly, tantalizingly he let it slide between his fingers and drop to the table.
Then he sat down and began to deal the cards expertly, snapping them crisply out of the deck. When it came Sally's turn to draw, she could feel the flashing eyes lewdly fastened on her as the detective laid all three cards slowly on the table in front of her one by one.
Her fingers trembled as she slid them into her hand, and before she had time to study them, she could hear Burns' booming voice: "What's your bet baby? Remember… you can still win." She could hear their silent snickering now as she held the cards close to her, studying them intensely – a pair of queens and a pair of sevens. Two pairs were a good hand, even she knew that, but still her fingers twitched involuntarily as she held the cards in a clumsy fan.
"If I win this I want the films," she said finally, fighting to retain her dignity.
"The films are worth more than one," Burns growled. "You gotta bet two," his shifty eyes darted back and forth between the other two players.
"The little lady's got guts," Olson admitted, his gaze sliding down her long willowy legs as Burns drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table.
"Go ahead, give her a chance," Slope said dumbly, and with that, Burns broke into a wide smile. With three Jacks in his hand it was a safe bet. Besides, the way his cock was whipping around inside his pants, he wanted to see this little bitch stripped naked, and he wasn't about to waste the whole night trying to get what he wanted.
"I'll bet two," Sally blurted out daringly. She was sure she could win the films back now.
"Okay, you're on," Burns said finally.
For a long moment, Sally hesitated as the pairs of leeringly excited eyes turned on her. It was now or never, she thought to herself. She had to win this hand, and with two other witnesses, she was bound to get the films back from Burns. Slowly, reluctantly she pushed her short skirt up over her thighs and undid her garter strap. Her fingers pushed the rippling sheerness of her remaining thigh, and she laid the stocking neatly on the table.
"One more, baby, one more. Take that pretty little blouse off and let's see those nice tits of yours."
The detective's salacious language burned in her ears and her trembling hands moved up from her lap to the top button of her pink silk blouse.
"That's it baby," Burns drawled. "Take it off, nice and slow. Give us a nice big tease." Her cheeks burned at his insolent words, but with tortuous slowness, she slipped the first button loose to reveal the pale expanse of her upper chest to the insatiable eyes of the three obscenely staring men. Now her fingers tremblingly descended to the second button and released it from the buttonhole.
The loose blouse teasingly parted to reveal a hint of the deep narrow cleavage that swelled beneath. She could feel their lascivious glances boring into her as sharp pangs of wicked excitement charged up her spine in spite of the horrible situation she found herself in. God, they were leering at her like they wanted to run their hands and their tongues all over her panties.
"Come on, we ain't got all night," Rocky barked irritably.
Hurriedly, Sally's fingers undid the last two buttons and, closing her eyes, she yanked the blouse out from the waist band of her skirt. As she leaned forward to slide it off her arms, the voluptuously rounded mounds of her breasts swelled up tantalizingly from her scanty-white half-bra.
She held the blouse daintily in her hand now, and let it drop to the middle of the table. Little by little the last vestiges of her feminine protection were being stripped away from her. Her nylon stockings and shoes lay in a wanton slatternly heap beneath the blouse which had just joined them. She had to win now, she had to. She prayed desperately to herself, but the hand was not over yet. There were still two more players to go. This was the moment of truth…
"I raise one," Rocky said suddenly, tossing his chip into the pile.
"One more," Slope drooled gleefully. This bitch had had it now. He was going to enjoy watching her in naked humiliation, as she stripped her clothes off one by one.
"I… I… can't… please," Sally protested weakly. It was obvious they did not care about the game any more. They had only one thing in their minds, to shame and humiliate her in front of them and they were going to keep raising the bets until her defenseless young body was stripped naked.
"You better," Rocky warned grimly, his dark eyes flashing at her. The fierce tone of his command stifled all resistance in her, and there was something about his massive sweating masculinity that sent unwanted waves of lewd desire pulsing through her loins. She could feel the grip of the familiar nervous trembling seizing her again as her hands stretched behind her back to reach for the snaps of her brassiere. She pulled clumsily at the flimsy elastic band, the bulging mounds of her full sensuous breasts protruding firmly outward as she straightened her back. In spite of her fear and repulsion the excitement of stripping herself in front of these uncouth men caused her wetly throbbing pussy to swell in obscene desire. She could feel the sharp-pointed buds of her nipples springing out yearningly against the restraint of her silk-lined brassiere…
And suddenly her fumbling fingers undid the snaps. She held the two ends tantalizingly behind her back for a long moment, and then let it fall loose. As she slid it down over her shoulders, the firm twin mounds of her ripely upthrust breasts burst forth to the excited gazes of the watching males.
"That's what I call tits," Slope whistled, his eyes wide with amazement, a leering grin playing on his lips. Sally shuddered at the thought of her unwanted nakedness and folded her arms across her breasts in a futile effort to hide herself from the raw lustful gazes. Only her suede miniskirt, which was little bigger than a loin cloth now stood between her and her panties.
"Let's see what you got," Burns boomed from across the table.
Sucking in her breath, Sally spread the cards out face up on the table, revealing two pair.
"Beats me," Olson growled as he threw his cards down.
"Pair of queens, beats me too," Slope echoed. It was up to Burns now.
God, Sally prayed, I've got to win now… I just have to. She prayed Burns would stop teasing her like this. If only she could pick up the film and get going. Please, please she prayed fervently, lose this hand.
For a long moment the heavy-set detective sat impassively without saying a word. The serious expression on his face fed Sally's prayers. Yes, yes, she thought, he must have a losing hand, why else would he look so grim. Her arms hugged her bare shoulders tightly as she squeezed her fists together in tense expectation. The suspense was killing her, but suddenly it was all over.
Burns' poker face gradually began dissolving into a broad grin, until his lips bared back over his teeth and he began to laugh boisterously. He tilted his head back and the laughter roared uncontrollably from his throat.
"Three of a kind," he said finally, his eyes glowing in triumph.
"But… but," Sally faltered.
"Sorry, baby, you lose. Three of a kind always beats two pair." Burns' large powerful hands descended on the table like the hungry talons of a ravenous bird and he swept the booty toward him, Sally watching in shame as he scooped up her hopelessly abandoned articles of clothing.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," she could hear his voice droning. "I'll give you another chance."
Sally did not answer. Her face flushed at the outrageous thought of exposing her body in the horrible room surrounded by these filthy men. But there was nothing she could do. She could only nod her head weakly while Burns dealt out another hand.
As the cards flicked down on the table, she could feel Olson's callused hand gliding softly up and down her back. She turned and glared at him with all the ferocious hatred she could muster, but he simply responded with a leering grin and his fingers continued their teasing ministration. Her whole body quivered at his touch.
"Let's have the ante," Burns said impatiently.
"What do you mean… the ante?" Sally choked.
"Your clothes, baby, remember you're playin' for your clothes. Now take them off."
"But… I can't," she pleaded. "There's only my skirt."
"Do you want those films or don't ya?" Burns reminded her.
"Yes… yes," Sally cried in tortured confusion. She could feel tears of anger and rage choking her eyes now as she fought a desperate battle to maintain her dignity. Suddenly, in her anger, she sprang up from her chair and her hands shot down to the zipper of her miniskirt. All thought of modesty had fled from her mind now, and in its place anger and determination reigned supreme. She had to get those films back, she would do anything at all to get them… even making love with that horrible detective again if he demanded it.
The eagerly excited males at the poker table followed the sensual young woman's every movement with rapt attention as she undid the zipper of her skirt and released the belt buckle. For a long, agonizing moment her poised fingers clutched at the waistband of her skirt.
Pangs of unwanted lust began to shoot even more strongly inside her anxiously quivering loins as the foul men surrounding her, fixed her with obscene burning gazes. God, she was feeling the same nervousness now that she had experienced before exposing herself to the young boys. Confused thoughts whirled crazily through her mind…
Pull yourself together, Sally, a small voice inside her brain whispered desperately. You can't degrade and humiliate yourself in front of these horrible men. But at the same time, a louder voice was telling her. They won't hurt you. Sally. They just want to shove their penises deep up inside your panties. No one will ever know, no one will ever know. You've got to please them. You've got to get those films back.
Sally's eyes fixed on a distant corner of the room to escape the hot flashing eyes of her tormentors. It was as though suddenly she had been turned into a zombie. And now, deliberately tantalizing the sex-hungry men surrounding her, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the soft suede skirt and began sliding it down over the flaring curves of her ripely flaring hips to reveal the naked trembling flesh of her belly. For a long tantalizing moment her thumbs remained poised inside the waistband as their eager eyes roamed hungrily over the proud nakedness of her voluptuously protruding breasts and down over the sensual curves of her hips.
"That's it, baby," Burns goaded. "Just take that skirt off and show us those little panties of yours."
"Yeah, let's get a look at that hot little pussy of yours," Olson grunted cruelly.
The harshly spoken obscenities sent shivers of forbidden pleasure trembling up her spine. Automatically her thumbs pulled against the soft suede material, slowly gliding the skirt down over the shimmering silk of her panties. For a long lingering second her fingers teasingly clung to the skirt, and finally, sucking in her breath she let it drop in a heap at her feet. The hungry eyes of the lust crazed men devoured her lush young body dressed only in panties.
She had done it! She was standing almost naked in front of them… naked except for the flimsy protection of her brief bikini panties.
The earlier sensations of shame and humiliation suddenly gave way to electrically tingling lust. Now there was only a thin band of silk protecting her moistly aroused loins from the hungry desires of these sex-crazed men.
God… she thought suddenly. If I lose now, they'll want more. They'll want to strip me of my panties. The horrible thought raced crazily through her mind… she would not let them take her panties, not under any circumstances. No man had ever done that… not even her husband. She had to win this hand, she just had to.
"Let's play cards," Rocky growled, but she could see from the obscene glint in his eye that cards were the farthest thing from his mind.