Join the women of the Ladies Naughty Book Club as they transform their secret fantasies into reality.
Jasmine and her fellow book clubbers grow disgruntled that characters in spicy novels live larger than they do. They want what their latest fictional heroine got — a seriously sizzling encounter with a gang of hot, lusty men. Deciding it’s time to make their own racy daydreams come true, they form the Fantasy Guild.
Jasmine volunteers to be the test case and sets out to find the perfect players who will bring her erotic, high-stakes poker game to life. It’s a tantalizing first for Jasmine, and five hard-bodied men guarantee it’ll be a night to remember.
She’s only the beginning. Up next, Pamela seeks an afternoon of poolside delight with some smokin’ younger hired hands. Lastly, Freya turns spy and is captured by five sexy interrogators who won’t rest until they’ve tortured every single piece of intel from Freya’s helpless person.
All the ladies agree — the Fantasy Guild is off to a dazzling start!
This sample of the Fantasy Guild Box Set contains explicit language and red-hot multiple partner sex scenes suitable only for adults.
Read on to enjoy a free sample, then purchase your copy today.
Jasmine Plays Her Hand
Fantasy Guild #1
“I LIKED HOW THE swim coach took the heroine from behind in the swimming pool.” Jasmine fanned herself rapidly.
The other ladies smiled, eight in all, each one fondly remembering that particular scene from the book.
“Ooh,” said Cynthia, “the way he yanked off her bikini and bent her over the side of the pool. It was so … so … manly.”
Exactly. All the ladies agreed.
“And then when the other swimmers came out of the locker room and saw her there naked. Oh my God,” said Layla, her face tinged with a red glow, “I would have died of embarrassment.”
“Not me,” said Jasmine. “I’d do just what she did — tell them to line up and wait their turn. I wouldn’t want too many of them falling on me at once. I’m not some gangbang Wonder Woman.”
Half of the women laughed and the other half responded with varying levels of semi-scandalized expressions. No one in the club ever admitted that their guilty little fantasies might be something they’d like to act out in real life. They generally prefaced comments about erotic scenes with phrases like, “Not that I’d do what she did,” or “It’s not something I’d want my husband/boyfriend to do, but …”
This was a meeting of The Ladies Naughty Book Club, not a gathering of free-loving swingers. All of the women present lived perfectly respectable lives, some of them married, some dating, some neither. What they had in common was that they loved dirty books, and they were not, in real life, sexually adventurous. A stolen kiss from another girl in college, or letting a boyfriend feel them up at a movie theater was the extent of their experimentation.
These nine women (and a number of others who weren’t present that night) had come together and formed the LNBC after reading a popular erotic novel and discovering their shared interests through a book lovers’ web site. They met once a month, sometimes more often, to discuss new group reads, all of them spicy, sexy romances with commanding alpha-male heroes and spirited heroines.
It was great fun. For a while. As time passed, however, they found that their taste for sexier delights expanded the more they read. What had once seemed too hard-core and scary, became titillating, enticing them to broaden their choices of erotica.
They developed an increasing tolerance for smutty delights. And now here they were, more than two years after the formation of the club and their latest group read was titled “Nancy Trains the Swim Team,” an explicit, multi-partner novelette. It wasn’t naughty; it was pure smut. Okay, it was a gangbang. One woman and lots of men, all at the same time. Downright steamy stuff.
The ladies loved every minute of it, even Layla, the youngest and most reserved member in the group.
And now the group’s norms had shifted again. Jasmine had opened everyone to the idea that she, if no one else, had contemplated doing something sexually outrageous in real life. Not just in daydreams. In real life.
“You don’t mean that, Jasmine,” Layla said. “You could never actually do anything so, so you know.”
“I don’t know.” Jasmine tapped her blood-red nails on the arm of her chair. “I’ve been thinking more and more that I just might want it. I mean, why not? I’m single, successful, attractive enough to have my pick, more or less. Why not live it up while I can? I just turned thirty. Life’s short, ladies.”
Several women nodded, Cynthia among them.
“If I were single,” Cynthia said, “and didn’t have kids, I’d feel the same way. Come on, you guys. Admit it. Part of the fantasy of reading these books is imagining being the heroine. What if you could do more than imagine? What if you had the balls to actually do it?”
Jasmine leaned forward in her chair. “My point exactly. We could do it. All of us, even if you’re married.”
Margie, a happily-married woman in her mid-forties, held up her hand. “Not me. That’d be adultery. I don’t cheat.”
“Me either. Or, only in my mind with pretend lovers in books,” Cynthia said, a wistful note in her voice.
“It wouldn’t be cheating if your husbands agreed to it,” Jasmine said.
This brought on an uproar, and no insignificant hilarity. The ladies agreed that the idea of asking their husbands to let them take part in a gangbang was laughable in the extreme; it wasn’t even a remote possibility.
After the chuckles faded away, Cynthia looked to Jasmine. “But just because some of us are out of the mix, doesn’t mean you are. If you did it, you could tell us about it, and we could live vicariously through you.”
Margie rolled her eyes. “This is a book club, not a true confessions sex club.”
“That’s right,” said Layla. “We read about sex. We don’t actually do it.”
The women broke out into chuckles and teased Layla about how there were members of the group who, gasp, actually did have sex.
Layla blushed. “You know what I mean. I meant, we don’t do the crazy stuff that goes on in these dirty books. It would be nuts. Dangerous probably.”
“Not necessarily.” Jasmine looked at each member in turn. “What if we could have a second club? A place for acting out our fantasies, not just dreaming about them.”
“Yeah,” said Cynthia. “We’ve read about it, and now we go do it. Or, you do it and tell us about it. Instead of a book report, it would be a real sex report.”
Jasmine nodded. “Something like that. I propose we start living our fantasies. For real. Starting right now. We could begin by arranging our own group encounters. What do you say? Who else wants their own gangbang?”
Silence fell over the room. No one spoke for several minutes, each woman contemplating Jasmine’s call-to-arms. Some of them, their eyes wide and flitting from one member to the next, would have liked to step up, but didn’t have the nerve. Some of them had the nerve, but were in committed relationships. Layla had neither the nerve nor a prior commitment.
Freya, an unattached, attractive redhead in her late twenties, showed interest in Jasmine’s request. “Even if I wanted to do it, and I’m not saying I do, I wouldn’t know how to go about it. I mean, it would have to be safe, and controlled. Where would we find the men?”
Margie snorted. “Finding the men wouldn’t be a problem, I’m sure.”
Jasmine agreed. “I’m thinking about that, and I have a few ideas.”
“But they have to be the right kind of men, and I don’t just mean looks. Safety first. If you could manage that, I might be interested,” said Freya. She looked surprised with herself and backtracked with, “I mean, if you could work out the details maybe. I don’t know.”
“Gee, that’s clear as mud.” Jasmine laughed. “Anyone else?”
One other woman, a quiet, buxom blonde in her early forties named Pamela, raised her hand. “I might be. If I didn’t have to find the men. I’d be too embarrassed.”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. “You’re comfortable letting a bunch of men have sex with you, but you’re too shy to ask them to do it?”
The question brought on another round of titters and exclamations until Jasmine called for order.
“That’s okay, Pamela,” said Jasmine. “Maybe I could get together a regular crew sort of, of interested men for us to pick from. I’m already thinking of who I can ask. Come on, there has to be more than just Freya, Pam and me. Step up, ladies.”
Everyone else shook their heads. No, they didn’t want to be in a gangbang, but they all liked the idea of the three braver members going through with it.
“You go first,” Margie said to Jasmine. “You can report back, tell us all about it. If it goes okay, then who knows, right? Others might want to.”
Jasmine glanced around the circle of women. “Okay then. I’ll go first. I’ll find the men, too. We’re going to do this thing. Every one of us. Even you, Layla, before we’re done.”
Layla shook her head, looking a little pale.
Cynthia patted Layla’s leg. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. No one’s going to make you do anything.”
Jasmine sighed. “Of course we won’t. But let me tell you, girl, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. Who knows what we’re capable of?”
“So, what’ll we call this new club?” Jasmine continued. “I’m thinking ‘Gangbang’ something.”
“Oh, not gangbang. It’s so … so dirty-sounding,” Layla said.
“That’s why I like it,” Jasmine said.
“I hate it,” another member chimed in.
“Me too. It’s tawdry,” added another woman.
“Tawdry and sexy,” Cynthia said.
“Never mind gangbang, then,” Jasmine said. “We need to find a name we can all agree on. Think of something else.”
They were quiet for a few moments. The few ideas some of them tossed out were immediately rejected as either being too boring or not having anything to do with the actual club. They tossed around a few more uninspired ideas until a quiet voice cut through the chatter.
“The Fantasy Guild,” the voice said.
The women turned and looked at Layla, the girl behind the voice. She shrugged.
“Perfect!” cried Jasmine. “If anyone overhears us saying the name, they’ll just think it’s a fantasy book club, or like a video game group. It’s perfect.”
The others agreed readily. Layla smiled and waved aside their enthusiastic acceptance.
“The Fantasy Guild it is then,” Jasmine said. “Some members aren’t present. They’re seriously going to be p-o’d that they didn’t come tonight.”
“That’s okay,” Cynthia said. “I’ll call and fill them in on everything. For now, I think Jasmine should be the acting president of the new club. What do you all say?”
“Good.” Jasmine’s expression sobered. “I accept the position of acting president. And I offer myself as the test subject of the new club. I’m going to go out and get myself in a gangbang, or,” she winked at several members, “fantasy group encounter, if it’s the last thing I do!”
The ladies smiled at one another. Jasmine was a beautiful, powerful woman, and they had no doubt that she’d get precisely what she wanted, no more, no less.
“And then you’ll come tell us chickens all about it,” said Margie.
“Exactly,” said Jasmine.
The club members hadn’t been this excited in a long time. Someone they knew was going to live out the fantasies they had only dared read about.
It was a heady, exhilarating evening — the night the Fantasy Guild was formed.
JASMINE, EVER TRUE AND focused once she set her mind on a task, wasted no time in forming a plan of action. She needed men, a number of men, all of whom were adventurous and could be trusted to behave themselves within reason.
They should be good looking, of course, and should be in a range of ages for variety’s sake, though not too old or too young. Naturally, physical fitness was a pre-requisite.
Jasmine had in mind any number of gangbang fantasies that she and her fellow guild members might want to play out, so it would be helpful if the men were capable actors. They didn’t need to be great actors, just competent ones who wouldn’t get flustered if they were asked, for example, to pretend to be construction workers one week and doctors the next.
And they should be strong men who knew how to take what they wanted while at the same time giving the woman what she wanted, too. And they had to respect a healthy woman’s sexuality. Just because Jasmine wanted to take part in group sex didn’t mean she was a whore. Any man in her stable must honor that fact.
She kicked around a few ideas then settled on working the place that she thought would give her what she sought — her fitness club. The next afternoon found her stepping onto her favorite treadmill.
She had been flirting with one of the handsome owners of her club for weeks. He wasn’t a personal trainer but he always made a point of being nearby while she worked out. He offered to spot her, or corrected her form, touched her as often as a guise of helpful instruction would allow. Jasmine’s own trainer never interfered since the man was the boss, not that Jasmine necessarily wanted interference.
His name was Geoff, and he was built like a Greek god, and was twice as handsome. He was a few years older than Jasmine, in his mid-thirties, with dark hair and eyes and an olive complexion. He was muscled, but not overly-so, and he towered over her diminutive frame.
Most importantly, there was something about him that made her trust him. She felt it the moment they met, a connection of a sort she had rarely experienced.
Jasmine settled into her pace on the treadmill and scoped the room for any sign of Geoff. Her heart gave a thump when she spied him strolling through the glass doors and surveying the surroundings. His gaze settled on her. He smiled, his white teeth flashing.
She wondered why she kept him at bay, only lightly returning his flirting but not encouraging him enough to ask her out. Perhaps the Fantasy Guild was why. Maybe her sub-conscious knew she was on the verge of doing something new and exciting and Geoff would be the key to making her fantasies come true.
She returned Geoff’s smile with a wide one of her own, an obvious invitation that he couldn’t miss, nor ignore. Few men would. If Geoff were god-like in his attractions, then Jasmine was akin to a goddess, with her porcelain skin and thick brunette hair, her delicate features and long-limbed form. No, men generally couldn’t ignore Jasmine.
Geoff wound his way through the equipment and came to stand beside Jasmine’s treadmill. He looked at her speed setting and joked that she was taking it easy today.
Jasmine told him her trainer wasn’t in, and asked if he’d mind guiding her for a while. He agreed instantly.
Over the course of the next thirty minutes, Jasmine and Geoff played their roles, flirting more heavily than ever before, the intensity raised by Jasmine. She suggested he introduce her to a machine in the corner of a nearly-vacant weight room. If she spoke softly, no one would overhear what she had to say.
Geoff stood in front of her, raising her arms and placing her hands around a bar. He had her spread her legs, and she knew he was looking at the narrow band of fabric covering her most private parts.
There was no time like the present. She lowered her arms and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t really want to use this machine. I actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?” He grinned, all sexy and manly hopeful.
She patted the bench next to her. He sat down and she turned to face him.
“I have a proposition for you,” she said.
“Best news I’ve heard all day.”
“I think so. I want to have sex with you.”
He blinked. “Okay. Now?”
“No, not right now.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I know. But that’s not all of my proposition.”
“I am. Here’s the thing. I’m looking for something out of the ordinary. I have exotic tastes, you might say.”
“You like women, too? I’m up for threesomes.”
“No. Though I am talking multiple partners. I’m looking for a … well … to be blunt … a gangbang.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard that right. You said you want a gangbang?”
“Exactly. As in lots of men, all having sex with me at the same time. Well, not at the exact same time. That would be impossible. You know what I mean.”
“Damn. I guess I do.”
She scrunched up her nose. “If you’re not interested, I’d understand. No biggie.”
“Give me a minute. I’m still trying to wrap my head around this thing. It’s not every day that I’m asked to be in a gangbang.”
“What’s the big deal? I mean, once you get past the surprise of it. I thought you might be interested in helping me out. I need someone with connections to lots of other men, someone who can find the right guys for the job. I’ll be needing a number of different types. If they can act, that would be a plus.”
“How many men, exactly, are you wanting to gangbang you?” He asked the question with a tone of disbelief.
“Oh, they wouldn’t all be for me. Some would be for the other members of the Fantasy Guild.”
“Of course they would.” He gave her a long, slow look. “You’re making no sense.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
Over the next few minutes, Jasmine filled Geoff in on the details of her new club, how it was formed and what it might become with the right men involved.
The longer Jasmine spoke, the more Geoff lost his expression of disbelief and the more he appeared to be considering possibilities.
“You seem to be a popular guy,” Jasmine said after she finished her backstory. “I thought you’d be perfect to help organize a group of men who would be open-minded with this thing and could be trusted to behave themselves.”
“And you’re going to be the first club member to, er, go?”
“That’s right. I’m the test case.”
He slowly perused her form, his gaze pausing on her breasts, her flat stomach and long, shapely legs. “I don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding men who’d want to be with you.”
“You don’t mind, do you? That I’ve propositioned you? I mean, that I just want to have sex with you and your friends and I don’t really want to be your girlfriend?”
“Are the two mutually exclusive?”
She paused, thought for a moment. “I assumed they would be.”
“Never assume anything,” he said with a cryptic expression. “You can’t know what lurks inside a man.”
She raised her eyebrows, experienced a tiny jolt at his intensity, but ultimately didn’t appreciate the serious turn of the conversation. “So anyway, let’s not over-think this thing. Right now all we need is you and four discreet others to begin my fantasy. Is it possible, do you think?”
His expression cleared. “Yeah, I think so. I know some men who might fit the bill. Any particulars about who and what you want? What, exactly, is your fantasy?”
She glanced around the room, checking for the twentieth time to make sure no one was listening in. She looked at Geoff’s handsome face and began to explain the specifics of what she wanted for her first multi-partner experience.
When she finished, he eyed her lazily and gave her a sexy grin. He stood up and asked, “This weekend soon enough for you?”
He reached down and ran his thumb down her cheek and lightly over her bottom lip. “I’ll call you by Thursday evening to let you know the progress.”
She shivered under his touch, and more-so under the way he looked at her, the expectation in his dark eyes. “I’ll make all the other plans, rent the room and so on.”
“As you wish. Until then.” And without another word, he turned and left her sitting there.
She swallowed hard. She had done it. She had asked and Geoff had agreed to help make it happen for her. Geoff had always been hot, but something had happened in the last few minutes that made him blazingly hotter than before.
Desire. That was it. If she wasn’t mistaken, he wanted her more now than he had wanted her before.
Oh, that didn’t seem likely. Anyway, it didn’t matter. She wanted him for sex purposes only.
She mentally shook herself. Wow. A gangbang. Soon.
He’d better call her.
HE DID CALL HER, on Thursday, exactly as promised. She marveled at how much deeper his voice sounded over the phone than it did in person, delighting her so much that she nearly missed what he said, not that there was much of it to hear.
He said hello, then, “It’s all set up for Saturday night. There’ll be five of us. E-mail me the location and time. We’ll be there.”
“Okay, thanks, I —”
“See you then.” And he hung up.
She stared at her silent phone, her heart thumping in her chest, her breath shallow. It was on. It was going to happen.
A flutter passed from her clitoris through her belly. Two days.
JASMINE FIDGETED NERVOUSLY WHILE she waited in the living area of the large suite. She glanced around the place. Yes, everything was in order.
It was a lovely suite, with modern furnishings and a clean, chic look, well worth every penny she had spent to have it for the night. The money didn’t matter anyway. She was a successful woman with a good-paying career in pharmaceutical sales. No, money wasn’t an issue. It was more important that everything be right.
And it was; she’d spent several hours that day making certain of it. She looked over at the round table she had set up with all the paraphernalia the men would need to enact her fantasy. Everything was in place, she knew, as was everything in the kitchenette.
Jasmine smoothed back her hair, an unnecessary act since it was already in place, slick and shiny, pulled into a small, sleek brunette bun at the base of her head. She adjusted the neckline of her low-cut blouse, ensuring once more that the appropriate amount of cleavage was on display. There was no bra under the tight shirt.
She tugged at her shockingly short skirt. Yep, still short.
She checked the clock on the wall. Almost eight o’clock. Almost time. Her heart pounded and she felt shaky in her stilettos. Was that a noise she heard at the door?
Then the handle was turning and the door swung open. And the men walked into the suite.
The play had begun.
Jasmine smiled graciously at them and nodded her head in greeting. Geoff was looking extremely attractive in a dark suit with an open-collared shirt. She noted the twinkle in his eyes and the appreciative way he perused her figure.
Two other men were dressed in suits similar to Geoff, one man in his forties and one close in age to Geoff, both of them nice-looking and clean cut.
The other two men were younger. Jasmine guessed they were in their twenties. They wore faded denim and t-shirts and reminded her of young Internet entrepreneurs. Perhaps that was what they were going for. They were handsome and a little scruffy in an attractive way.
Her stomach tightened as she looked them over and they looked her over in turn. So many eyes, and already she sensed the welling of desire in the room, an almost tangible weight in the air that flowed between her and them.
One of the young men shut the door as Geoff waved a hand in her direction.
“This is Jasmine,” Geoff said. “She’ll be serving us tonight. Say hello to Jasmine, guys.”
The four men said hi, their voices a rumble that sent shivers up her back.
“Hi. I’m here for whatever you need,” she said, her voice breaking at first then steadying. “Drinks, snacks. Whatever you want. Just ask. I’ll deliver. The table is all set up if you want to have a seat. I’ll take your drink orders when you’re ready.” She finished in a rush, perhaps having over-rehearsed her little speech in the hours leading up to the big moment.
She stood back and the men filed past her to the felt-covered table. They found chairs and settled in, Geoff turning to Jasmine and asking for a scotch, neat. The other four men quickly added their orders and Jasmine swayed over to the bar, doing her best to remember everything.
While she worked, Geoff told the men the rules of the game.
“This is No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em,” Geoff said. “$100,000 buy-in. $300 and $600 blinds with $100 ante, as we’ve discussed. You lose it all, you can buy in for more of course. I, for one, am more than happy to take all the cash you want to drop here.”
Some good-natured ribbing followed.
Geoff opened a fresh pack of cards and began shuffling. “Since the dealer is a no-show, we’ll have to rotate the deal. Agreed?”
Jasmine heard the sounds of plastic poker chips being tossed onto the table. They were beginning the game. She finished their drinks by the time the first round of bets were placed.
She stood silently behind the bar for a moment, savoring the anticipation of the certain realization of one of her oldest fantasies.
When she was in college, she sometimes picked up extra cash on the weekends waitressing at a Native American casino outside of town. The best gigs were attending to the players in the private, poker cash-games. Tips from exultant, winning players could top hundreds of dollars an hour, if you were lucky enough to be chosen to work the rooms.
She stayed focused whenever she had the opportunity to serve the high stakes games, concentrating on avoiding mistakes since excellence would earn her more gigs in the private rooms. She didn’t stand around daydreaming about what might have gone down behind those secured, closed doors. Not back then, anyway.
Since she’d been reading erotic fantasies in The Ladies Naughty Book Club, she’d recalled those private poker games. And the next thing she knew, she was writing a whole new script for what might have happened to a lone waitress and a group of high-stakes gamblers, mostly wealthy businessmen and the occasional professional player. Oh, plenty. That’s what might have gone on. Plenty.
She’d certainly given herself plenty of pleasure over the months, enacting her fantasy in her mind, living and reliving the details. Oh yes, she’d had pleasure.
And now, here she was, ready to take that to a whole other level. She breathed deeply to steady her nerves, then she picked up her tray and headed over to the men.
Jasmine delivered the drinks, self-conscious of the men eyeing her as she slipped in next to them, one after another. When she set Geoff’s drink on the table, he absently said thanks and patted her on her ass as she turned away.
One of the younger men, whose name she soon learned was Kyle, smiled at Jasmine. “You’d better watch that guy, Jasmine. He’s a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.”
She returned his smile then sent a saucy look over her shoulder at Geoff. “Undoubtedly. But only if I complain about it. And I’m not the complaining type.”
“Is that so?” Geoff asked with raised eyebrows.
“That’s definitely so.”
“Well, fellows, this game just got more interesting.”
The men grinned at Jasmine. She told them she’d get their snacks then sashayed off to the kitchenette, assuming they were watching the swing of her hips as she went. If the silence in the room was any indication, then yes, they were watching.
She returned to the main room in a matter of minutes, toting several plates of hors d’oeuvres and a stack of small plates and napkins on a tray. The men called out bets and played out their hands while she served them, taking care to bend over them deeply and deliberately.
She brushed her hand up the forty-something man’s arm after she laid his plate beside him. “I hope you enjoy the treats.”
His gaze didn’t waver from her bountiful cleavage. “Oh, I already am, Miss.”
“Call me Jasmine, Sir.”
“Fine, Jasmine. And you can keep calling me Sir.”
A warm flush spread up her neck. Mmm. Yes, he was most assuredly a Sir. He had an appealing smattering of gray hair at his temples. She flashed on an image of him tying her hands to a bedpost. She hadn’t been reading all those BDSM stories for nothing. “As you wish, Sir.”
He reached out and trailed his fingertips up the outside of her bare thigh and traced the skin at the hem of her skirt. “Do you always wear such short skirts, Jasmine?”
“Not always, Sir.”
“Pity. They suit you.” His gentle strokes sent shivery sensations down her legs.
“Hey, Sir,” said Kyle. “It’s your bet.”
Sir didn’t bother reviewing his hand. “I fold,” he said, tossing his cards into the center of the table.
A couple of men snorted, and the play moved on. As did Sir’s fingers. His fingertips glided along the hem of her skirt, around to the back of her thigh. She held her breath as his hand slid under the fabric, sought the edges of her panties.
Now, he traced that silky edge. His gaze rose to meet her own. “You say you’re not the complaining type.”
“What if I were to ask you to remove your panties for me? I think we’d all enjoy you serving us while we picture how naked you are under that little skirt. It would please us all very much, and it’s harmless, don’t you think?”
She pretended to ponder his request. Then she nodded. “I’m here to make you happy. I don’t see any problem with you using your imagination.”
Jasmine stepped back. Sir and the rest of the men watched as she demurely lifted the sides of her skirt and hooked her panties under her thumbs. Keeping her pertinent parts hidden, she slowly lowered her panties to the ground. Once she picked them up, she dangled them on a finger in front of her attentive audience.
“Is it everything you hoped it would be, Sir?”
Sir gave her a slow, sexy smile. “It is, Jasmine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She tossed her panties onto a nearby table. “Does anyone need anything?”
Geoff raised his chin and gestured beside his chair. “I dropped my napkin. If you wouldn’t mind …”
She strolled over and saw the napkin on the floor. She kneeled down in a dainty movement, keeping her rear down and legs together, in short, not giving him what he wanted. With an innocent expression, she held the napkin up to him. “Here you are.”
“Thanks so much.” The corner of his mouth twitched. He took the napkin, touching her hand in a lingering way. Then he returned to the game.
From the conversation that rose during the play, she learned that the other man in a suit, the one close in age to Geoff, was named Michael. He was blonde, tall, and lean, and sent her hungry looks whenever he thought she wasn’t looking at him. She enjoyed the obvious desire in those beautiful blue eyes.
She walked over to Michael and leaned down next to him. Her voice was quiet so as not to interrupt the other men who were bantering over their play. “I thought you might need something. What can I do for you?”
He glanced at her face, then down at her cleavage displayed so near to him. “I’m finding part of your uniform unappealing.”
She frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Can it be fixed?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He held out his hands. “Do you mind if I make an adjustment or two?”
“Oh no. Go right ahead.”
He reached out and headed straight for the buttons on her blouse. In a few quick motions, he unbuttoned her shirt half-way down her torso. The tight shirt gaped open and displayed most of her breasts, including a full third of each areola.
He eyed the result but wasn’t satisfied with it, and he rapidly undid the remaining buttons. He tied the shirt ends together under her breasts, revealing her toned midriff, then he adjusted the fabric so that her breasts were almost fully in view. In fact, a slight tug on the loosened fabric would have been all it took to completely reveal her breasts.
He looked over his handiwork, a finger traveling along the curves of her revealed chest.
She swallowed hard, didn’t have to look around to know all eyes were on her.
“I think,” Michael said, “I can live with this … for now anyway.”
She nodded. She suddenly felt a hand sliding up her thigh and smoothing over her bare ass cheek. She turned her head. It was Kyle, grinning widely.
Jasmine stood up straight and allowed Kyle to touch her at will. She trembled as his fingers approached her slit, but never actually touched her there. He was a tease and she loved it.
She also loved the way the other men were quieter now, how they didn’t know whether to look at her nearly bare chest or to try to x-ray vision under her skirt to reveal what Kyle was doing.
Geoff was obviously struggling to keep the men focused on the game, to give Jasmine the full fantasy she requested. He had to remind them repeatedly when it was their turn to make a bet, or tell them they hadn’t put in their ante.
And it wasn’t like Geoff wasn’t having difficulties of his own. Jasmine noticed him repeatedly shifting in his chair, obviously trying to relieve the pressure growing between his legs.
She had her own pressure growing down below. Her mouth was slightly open and her breath came in increasingly shallow bursts. Kyle squeezed her ass and stroked over her hip, ran down her thigh and up again. He teased the edge of her skirt, lifting it slightly, toying with uncovering more and more flesh.
This was heating up, and fast. Maybe too fast.
Geoff cleared his throat loudly. “I can appreciate your fascination with our lovely server, gentlemen, but we have a game going here and I, for one, intend to play it.”
The other men jerked their gazes away from Jasmine and turned to Geoff, several of them looking irritated.
Geoff shuffled the cards. “So, if Jasmine’s up for it, I have an idea how to handle this tricky situation.”
Kyle dropped his hand from Jasmine’s ass. Pity, she thought. However, she was more interested in what Geoff was about to propose.
“I think we need to bring some order to this thing,” Geoff said. “Easy enough. I suggest that whoever wins a hand, is given the option of passing some time with Jasmine, here at the table, lasting the length of the next hand. Then the winner of that hand can entertain the lovely lady. And so on. Make sense?”
The men nodded, looked over at Jasmine with no small amount of expectation in their eyes.
“Jasmine?” Geoff asked.
Her palms had gone damp. This was all Geoff’s idea. They hadn’t discussed this when she talked to him about her fantasy. Well, his idea sounded like it had serious promise.
“I’m willing,” she said.
The men seemed to sit up a bit straighter after her answer.
The man in his twenties who was dressed similarly to Kyle (his name, she learned, was Sean), leaned forward in his chair. “When you say ‘pass some time’ with Jasmine, what exactly does that mean?”
Geoff sighed. “It means you can work it out with her, if you ever get the chance. The way you’re playing, you never will.”
“I was distracted,” Sean said. “Now there’s a reason to pay attention. Deal the cards.”
Geoff riffled through the deck one more time. “Here we go then.”
Jasmine stepped back and perched on a bar stool, avidly watching the men play. She privately admitted some disappointment when Geoff folded early in the hand. By the turn bet, Sir and Kyle had folded also. It came to a showdown between Michael and Sean at the river.
Jasmine recognized the aggression in Sean’s play. She’d seen it before in young men who learned to play the game on the Internet. Sean wanted to push Michael off the pot. Minutes ticked by as they debated their moves. Michael eventually surprised Sean and called his bet.
Michael was the victor with a flush. He raked his winnings into a sloppy pile in front of him then looked straight at Jasmine. “I believe the spoils belong to me, no?”
Her stomach tightened and a thrill fluttered in her chest. She walked up next to Michael, who wasted no time in reaching out and untying the bottom of her shirt.
“I’m so glad I won,” he said. “This style didn’t suit you at all.” He slowly peeled back the shirt and revealed the entirety of her pretty breasts, her nipples already straining, perky.
She shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall to the floor. Michael pushed his chair away from the table a short way and patted his lap. Jasmine sat down sideways. He put an arm around her waist, and his free hand cupped her breast.
The poker game continued around them, the men silent and intent, only speaking when it was time to bet. The intensity in the room had raised a hundred fold since Geoff had enacted this new aspect of the game. The very temperature in the room seemed to have climbed.
Michael’s hard bulge pressed against her ass. He thumbed her nipple and inhaled sharply.
“You have beautiful tits,” he said, pinching a nipple between thumb and forefinger, pulling outward, distending her breast.
Jasmine gasped. “Thank you.”
Michael picked up his glass, the sides wet with condensation from the melting ice. He rubbed the cold tumbler over her breasts, stiffening her nipples even more than they already were. Jasmine leaned into him and shivered, enjoyed the goosebumps the chilly liquid raised over her flesh.
Michael leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth, capturing it in his warmth. She moaned and dug her fingers into his shoulders. Using both hands now, he squeezed her big breasts together, alternately sucking on one nipple then another.
She wasn’t thinking about the game anymore, who might win, who might not. She only thought about how it felt having this man sucking her breasts in front of all these other men, the newness of it, the ferocity, the incredible turn on it was to have an audience for Michael man-handling her.
What else might they do? Everything, she hoped. Everything.
She threw her head back, closed her eyes and sighed. She flinched when his teeth nibbled at her sensitive flesh. Mmm, yes.
Then he stopped of a sudden. Why? She opened her eyes and looked around. Everyone was looking, of course. Sean was eyeing her particularly hard. He waved her over.
Oh, she realized with a start. The next poker hand was already finished. And Sean had won. Well then.
She promptly stood up and took the few steps over to Sean’s chair. She stopped beside him and waited to see what he would do. She noted the rapid shuffling of the cards in the background and Michael’s continued harsh breathing, left wanting, hot and bothered from her abrupt departure.
“Spread your legs,” Sean said.
She blinked at his abruptness, and admitted to herself that she liked the way he commanded her. She spread her legs.
He smiled, something of a leer. “Hands behind your back. Stick out those tits.”
She obeyed, felt a twist down low between her legs. Wet. She had to be wet. Truth was, she’d been damp all day, saturated with anticipation and expectation. And now, she was wet from the reality of it, with how superior it was to simple fancy.
Fantasy Guild Box Set
If you’d like to read all of Jasmine’s, Pamela’s, and Freya’s sexy adventures in the Fantasy Guild Box Set, purchase your copy today!
The Fantasy Guild Box Set is approximately 217 print pages long and contains explicit language and red-hot multiple partner sex scenes that are suitable only for adults.