Poker Night

All characters are consenting adults (18+) 

He sat at the end of the bed wearing only his underwear. I was still naked, and my body still sweaty from the pounding. I studied his muscular, tattooed back as I lay there, leaking his cum and tasting his delicious cock on my lips. It was a prison tattoo, and although it wasn’t very well done, I still found it incredibly hot.

Darren was twenty seven years old, though many of those years had been spent incarcerated. He was the person who everybody’s parents warned against. The bad boy. The red flag. The bad influence. Indeed, Darren was all of those things, but most importantly, he was mine.

He got to his feet and stretched his solid body. Years of doing nothing but working out and fighting had left him with an enviable physique, especially when compared to my smooth, slender frame. He was all man, and I was all his.

Darren was a secret, of course. I was just nineteen, and my parents not only believed that their young, Christian son was straight, but they also believed that I was studying my ass off in college, instead of getting my ass destroyed by a felon.

“What are we doing tonight?” I asked, as Darren pulled on an old t-shirt. The front of his boxer briefs was already damp as his cock leaked out the remnants of his load.

“It’s Friday” he said, and returned to the side of the bed. “Suck me before work?”

I loved that about him. He seemed to have an endless supply of cum that he was happy to dump inside me, and I was a willing recipient. I crawled over to him hungrily, and dragged out the warm, bulging cock that had been up my ass just a few minutes prior.

“Poker night?” I asked, as I stroked him. It had been seven months since we’d first gotten together, but Darren refused to miss ‘Poker Night’ with the boys.

“Suck”.

I closed my lips around his pulsating prick and stared up at him as I swallowed it. Darren enjoyed my blowjobs, but not as much as I did. I gagged and spluttered on his long rod, and after less than ten minutes, my boyfriend grunted and sprayed a second load into my throat.

“I gotta go” he said, and pulled on his pants as I ran my tongue around my lips, cleaning up any mess that I’d missed.

“Can I come tonight?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. Poker Night was serious business for Darren and his pals. They had all become friends during their time in prison, and he had explained to me many times before that it wasn’t a place for people like me. I supposed that just like I was keeping Darren a secret from my parents, he was keeping me a secret from his felon-buddies. I guess I couldn’t really complain about that.

“You know I can’t bring you” he said, spraying deodorant under his muscular arms. “You just wait on that bed like a good little whore, and I’ll make it up to you when I get home, how about that?”

God, he was so fucking hot. He returned to the bed, grabbed my face in his strong, tattooed hands, and shoved his tongue into my mouth. My own cock, which had remained mostly untouched all morning, stiffened as we kissed.

“No jerking” he smirked, teasing the tip of my cock with his rough thumb, “I want you horny all day in college”.

I bit down on my lip as I imagined drooling into my underwear throughout the day, with Darren on my mind.

“You’re the boss” I grinned, and he slapped me gently on the cheek.

“You’ve got that right”.

College was a drag as usual, and I somewhat regretted not blowing my load earlier in the morning. My five and a half inch cock twitched and bulged for most of the day, and when the final lecture ended, I hurried back to Darren’s place, excited to slide my vibrator up my ass and relieve the pressure in my balls.

It was a run down apartment in a run down part of town. Darren worked hard as a mechanic in some dirty, oily old repair shop, but it wasn’t enough to afford much. I didn’t mind, though, as long as I had Darren, nothing else mattered.

I unlocked the door, pushed inside, and was already in the process of undressing when he walked out from the bathroom.

“Someone’s eager” he grinned, looking down at my bare legs as I pulled my pants down.

“How come you’re home so early?” I asked, pausing.

“Change of plan” he said, “you’re coming to Poker Night”.

I gawped at him. I’d been asking him for months to go with him, and his answer had always been the same.

“I thought it wasn’t a place for ‘people like me’” I said, a smug smile on my face.

“It’s not” he replied, and pulled me close to his chest. “It’s dangerous” he breathed, as the warm scent of a day’s sweat washed over me. “You’ll need a big, strong man to protect you”. His calloused hands slid into the back of my underwear, squeezing both my ass cheeks and pulling them apart.

“Is that right?” I breathed, as our noses brushed together. “How will I ever repay my knight in shining armour?”

His finger pushed against my tight hole, and I gasped as it slipped inside. Darren had always been rough, but there was something incredibly hot about being his boy.

“Oh, you’ll make it up to me” he hissed, kissing me softly, “don’t you worry about that”.

By eight o’ clock, we were ready. Darren was dressed in his usual attire, with a pair of baggy jeans and an old basketball jersey that showed off his perfect body. He wore thick chains around his neck, and although I’d never asked him about his past, it was clear to see.

“Where is this place?” I asked, as we drove through the part of town that everybody tried to avoid.

“A basement of some shithole bar” he explained, “what’s wrong, are you nervous?”

Darren was smiling as he asked, but admittedly, I was a little nervous. We pulled into an empty parking lot a little while later, and it was already dark as I followed him up a street, and down a lane.

“Do they know about us?” I asked, and Darren reached down and grabbed my hand in his.

“They will now” he said, and pushed open a rusted steel door as we entered a dark, smokey bar that was, indeed, a shithole.

“Evenin’ Hank” Darren called to the old barman who gave a stiff nod. He didn’t notice the fact that we were holding hands, but I felt my cheeks blush, anyway.

We walked behind the bar and straight down an old, battered set of stairs, and the stench of cigarette smoke hit me in the back of the throat.

“Look at this motherfucker” someone spat, but I could hardly see them through the smoke. “That your bitch, Darren?”

“This is my boy” he replied, pulling me closer to the round table where three other men sat smoking, drinking and playing cards.

“Well, fuck” one of them said, and he stared at me for a moment. He looked to be in his late thirties, completely bald, with tattoos on his head. Had I met the guy on a dark street, I would have shit my pants. “Name’s Crank” he told me, and I nodded politely.

“This is Red” he said, pointing to a muscular guy wearing a stained beater, with a mop of ginger hair. “That’s Babyface”.

I looked over at Babyface. He looked to be a little older than me, but I could see where he got his name. He had soft features, and certainly didn’t look like the type of guy to have been in prison. If anything, the guy was incredibly cute.

“Want a drink, boy?” Crank asked, as Darren sat me down on a wooden chair. Before I could refuse, a glass was filled to the brim with whiskey, and Darren pulled a chair over next to me.

The three of them were halfway through a game, so Darren and I just watched for a while. It felt very strange to be sitting with a group of ex-cons, but there was something exciting about it, too. I tried to imagine what my parents would have thought if they knew that my nightly prayers had been replaced by this.

“Uh… I don’t actually know how to play Poker” I whispered to Darren, who chuckled.

“You can help me” he replied, and under the table, Darren’s hand began to slide up the inside of my thigh.

I watched on as the four men played. It was a rather boring game, now that I thought about it, and I couldn’t help but wish that I was back in Darren’s place, with my vibrator in my ass and my hand around my cock.

“Motherfucker!” Crank barked, smashing his fist on the table, and causing the chips to bounce into the air. “Sorry, sorry” he said, waving his hand.

“See, this is why you always ended up in the hole, you crazy son of a bitch!” Red snapped, “god damn anger problems, man”.

The two of them bickered for a while, but I noticed that Babyface remained completely silent throughout. Even when he won, the young man kept perfectly straight faced, and it was only when I had a moment alone with Darren that I finally asked.

“What was he locked up for?”

Darren looked back over his shoulder and then down to me. “You don’t wanna know” he said, and I gulped in response.

After almost three hours of watching the men play, I had become painfully bored. I knew from experience that Darren usually got home after midnight, so I did my best to keep my eyes open, until he lost his final chips.

“You’re out, motherfucker” Crank grinned, dragging the chips over to himself. “Unless you wanna play for that beaten up old shit box you call a car”.

“How about those chains” Red said, “I bet they’re worth somethin’”.

“Go fuck yourself” Darren growled, as they chuckled and began dealing a new hand, without including Darren. “Yo, I didn’t say I was out” he said, and everybody, including me, looked at him. “I’ve got somethin’ to play with” my boyfriend grinned, and closed his hand around the back of my neck. “Him”.