A♡ 4♡ 4♧ 5♡ 6♡ Q♧
My eyes lit up as I scanned the cards Heidi had dealt me; that 4-4-5-6 double run was worth a guaranteed twelve points. Perfect. I was eight points behind her and she needed only four more points to win. If I could keep her from pegging out, I’d blow past her and win the game—and the bet—before she got a chance to count up her hand.
She’d taught me to play during lockdown, and she pretty quickly instituted a rule to keep me from methodically analyzing all the possibilities: no more than thirty seconds to decide which four cards to keep and which two to put in the crib. Speed cribbage. I’m fine with it; it helps me focus on having fun, playing a game, instead of crunching numbers. I can tell you from personal experience, though, when you’re on stage during Final Jeopardy and that friggin’ music is playing and you’re trying to suss out the correct answer—Vienna? Budapest? Vienna? Budapest? Shit, is it Prague?—that thirty seconds goes by wicked fast.
I tossed the ace and the queen into Heidi’s crib, then cut the deck—please, anything but a jack—to reveal the 7 of diamonds. Nice. Now the race to thirty-one.
I started by playing a 4, which she’d taught me is the best opening move because it’s impossible for your opponent to play for fifteen off it.
Heidi tilted her head in acknowledgment of my opener, then played a 10. “Fourteen.”
Shit, I wish I had that ace right about now. I played my other 4. “Eighteen.”
Heidi’s eyes flickered for a second. She tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear before playing a 9, correctly guessing I didn’t have another 4 in my hand to make thirty-one. “Twenty-seven.”
“Go,” I replied, figuring she might have to bleed a low card before scoring one point for last card.
“Twenty-nine,” she said casually as she laid down a 2.
“Go,” I repeated with the beginnings of a faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Unable to maintain a straight face any longer, she laid down another 2. “Thirty-one for two points,” she smirked, advancing her peg two holes, “and a pair for two points,” she finished triumphantly as she counted off two more holes to win the game.
My smile vanished and my remaining cards fell onto the table. I sat in silence for a few seconds until Heidi placed her hand on my arm. “You fought valiantly, Chet,” she consoled me with a twinkle in her eye after glancing at my unplayed cards, “but a bet’s a bet. You go get in the shower, and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
I nodded in a daze, then shuffled off to the bathroom, turned on the hot water, and stripped down as steam began filling the room. Stepping into the large tiled shower area, I closed the glass door behind me and leaned both hands against the wall, letting the searing hot water cascade down my body, not quite washing away the sting of defeat. Taking the bar of soap in my hands and working up a lather, I stroked my dick with one hand while sliding the other down my ass. I pressed my fingertips against my puckered rear entrance before plunging one finger inside and working it in and out, around and around, caressing and stretching myself in anticipation of paying off the bet I’d just lost.
I lazily beat my dick and finger-fucked myself until Heidi eased the bathroom door open and slipped inside the room. I could just make out her silhouette through the befogged glass partition; the pale willowy curves of a woman, with one notable addition.
“Wow, it’s steamy in here!” she laughed before opening the shower door and stepping inside. Her strap-on dildo was a glossy black, of medium girth, and a decent eight inches long. She hugged me from behind, pressing her pert tits against my back and her stiff cock against my crack, and nibbled at my earlobe. “Chet, baby,” she inquired in a sultry voice, “Are you ready to get fucked up the ass?”
“Sure, a bet’s a bet,” I sighed over my shoulder while still fisting my cock. “But you were this close,” I held my other hand up with my thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart, “to getting fucked up the ass yourself.”
“Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” she laughed. “Or as my grandfathah from Maine used to say, Huss-shoes and hand grenades.”
“I should’ve known it was a bad omen when you dealt me the queen of clubs.”
“The queen of clubs, huh?” she smiled as she smacked the crown of her stiff black cock against my slippery ass. “That seems strangely appropriate. What else did you have?”
“I had an ace. Uh, the ace of hearts.”
Heidi stopped short, remembering my cards.
“Chet, are you serious? You had four hearts. You could have had a flush!” She paused again, running the numbers in her head.
I squinted over my shoulder through the billowing clouds of steam. “Please don’t tell me I could have won if I’d kept the ace.”
“Well…”
“I got so focused on the double run, I didn’t even notice the suits.”
“And you didn’t think to keep the ace? Chet, how many times have I told you to keep your aces, twos, and threes for when we’re counting to thirty-one?”
“Yeah,” I shook my head in disbelief, finally assuming the position with both hands against the wall. “I messed up the pegging stage, and look where it got me.”
“Yup, you kinda screwed yourself there,” she giggled. “As my grandfathah used to say,” she whispered in my ear as she pressed the head of her dildo against my defenseless asshole and began sliding it in, “Save yah peggin’ cahds.”
