The kids poured out of the school as the bell rang. I always wondered how they knew, how they were ready before the bell did, that they could be completely totally ready for lunch and be out the door at the ring of the bell. It always took me like five minutes to put my books in my locker and book it and by then I was at the end of the mass exit.
My house is only like a block away from the school. Mom liked me home, so I figured I'd share that with my mates, friends that is.
We would most often come back to my house at lunch.
Almost-summer was here. The weather was fantastic, and we still had, like, weeks of classes before the last one.
But then, at summer break, most of the guys left town on holidays, or just vanished into summer jobs or whatever. Everyone was usually gone and I got to sit at home doing nothing all the time. A couple years ago, I used to go to Gramas and Gramps for a couple weeks, but Gramps died and Grama went to a home. I was pretty sad for a while, but life moves on.
I was the first to the backyard. It was pretty cool I guess. The fences were tall and there were trees and plants everywhere and the neighbors, like, were way long ways away, so I guess you could say it was private. Mom liked to garden.
I sat at the picnic table and within like a minute the guys showed up one at a time. Then Mom came out with sandwiches for me and juice for all us guys. Sometimes, when someone forgot their lunch, she would whip something together. It was usually disgusting, so most of the time everyone remembered to bring their lunch. Except me. It was my house and she did it for me, cause, like, I'm her kid. Well, some call me Momma's boy, but whatever.
Anyway, we're chowing down our sandwiches, and before we're even like close to done, Evan pipes up and says, "Wow. That was so cool us playing strip poker last weekend."
I just about shit my drawers, right then and there.
"Shut up you little fuck." I whispered, "My Mom's gonna find out and I'll be up shit creek."
"You didn't even lose. You just volunteered to be with us men." He smiled.
"Shut-up!" I growled.
Mike rolled his eyes and hollered, "Mom!" in that sing-song voice we all use when we want our Mom to do something we don't. A pause as we stopped and waited to hear what she said back.
Mike did it again, "Mom!" he called, but louder.
Her voice came out quietly from the house as she obviously was yelling back, "What is it Tag? I'm busy!" The guys all smiled.
Mike yelled, "Can we have pizza for supper tonight?"
My Mom yelled back, "For Christ sake Tag! You know we are having hamburgers! I'm busy! Stop it!"
Evan smiled at me, "Wow Tag. She doesn't even know her favorite son's own voice. You two are close?" And the guys all giggled myself included.
"Fine, you little shit. I didn't lose strip poker." I put some good emphasis on the word 'strip.' And then my head did a gear turn. I started plotting and pondering the possibilities. It was immature, I suppose. It was low. I suppose. But give me a break, I am immature, and besides, this was going to be hilarious.
"Hey." I said unable to contain my idea. Well, most of my idea as it mulled in my head as I said the words, "You guys able to come over for poker next weekend? Like a sleep over. My folks are going to Houston for some conference or another and Caeden is looking after the house."
"Dude. You still need a babysitter?" Evan laughed. "Even my folks let me stay at home by myself and I'm a year younger than you." The guys all chuckled.
"Well, Yah. No. Yah." I teetered between a lie and the truth and settled on truth,"He started as my babysitter when I was like eight. My rents and his rents are in the sailing club together and he gets seasick. I do to. So, like, when there's a sailboat convention, or conference or something, they like, to go together. And I'm like, old, but they've been doing it so long, they just ask him. And he needs the money."
The guys looked at me like I was from Mars. I explained it better, "He needs the money, and my folks pay pretty good. So like, he asked to do it, but not really do it. We can pretty much do what we want for the weekend but, like, he's not really gonna be around. He's got like a girlfriend he wants to fuck or something, and we will have the fucking-run of the entire fucking house for, like at least Friday night and probably most of Saturday."
"Fucking perfect." Mike's face was grim. "I gotta go with my folks to some family reunion and I can't come."
"I'm in." Evan said, his rosy red cheeks set against his blonde hair made me think he was horny. I glanced at his jeans but his shirt was plopped over everything in a jumble. He was probably horny. He wanted everyone to touch him the last time we played poker, and his face was rosy then too. I was gonna touch him, but I think I'd already pushed the limit with me throwing my boxers down before I'd even lost. I didn't want to lose these guy's respect, or friendship. They were good guys. But then again, fate favors the bold. My History Teacher, Mr. McMann told me that. I have no idea if it's true or not. But I like the philosophy. Besides, my evil plan was really gonna test the boundaries.
"I'm in too." Kris said, "I just gotta tell them I'm at a sleep over at Evan's and it's all good. But for a fourth, I can invite a new kid? Jack. Just moved in next door and he seems pretty cool, pretty chill." Those words were music. Cool and chill pretty much described our ragtag clique. We didn't get to be us by being jocks or nerds, but by being chill, calm and fucking cool. At least that's what we thought of ourselves, but I doubt anyone else thought of us this way.
Kris just vouched for a new guy.
"New is cool. Why not?" I said. No one said different. It was weird, like Mike just disappeared and I became the main guy, the boss. That was like, way fucking cool. Tag, me, the-big-guy was calling the shots.
And also, just like that the trap was almost set. Now I just had to ask for some help for my evil plan, and it'd work like a charm. I hoped it would work like a charm anyway.
The rest of the week dragged on. I'd made the arrangements. It wasn't hard to talk everyone into my joke. They loved the idea. It was going to be perfect. Like perfect.
Finally-fucking-Friday came around. And then finally the last bell rang, The-last-fucking-bell.
I ran home. A couple minutes later everyone pops into the yard. Even the new kid, Jack, pop pop pop, three kids show up.
"So here's the deal," We play poker for chips till after supper. Mom and Dad are leaving just after the food shows up. Then we play for clothes, all of them, total naked nudity." I kept my voice low and quiet, "Anyone one in or out? Now is the time to out if you are going to out." I got a bunch of head nods and yes'es." Being the boss was pretty cool. I don't know how I ended up leader, but I spoke commands, and for whatever reason, my boys just fell in line. I continued, "Okay new guy, Jack, you know what's gonna happen tonight?"
"We play cards. Chips till supper, then clothes after. I do whatever you tell me and well, everything is cool." he replied.
Oh-my-like-fucking-god. I couldn't have thought of a more perfect answer than that. Of course I couldn't admit it.
"Sure. So if you gotta do something naked and uncomfortable?"
"Dude. I do it. I totally know I"m new. I totally know you guys are the shit. I totally like all of you. I'm straight up. I'm also kind of afraid, but very honest and whatever. I want in and I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever." He sounded defensive, even excited, but perfect. He wasn't ugly to look at either. He wasn't tall, but had good muscle form. His sandy blond hair sat on his head and he had nice blue eyes. But it was his lips I liked the most. He had nice lips. They were poofy. I don't know why I liked his lips. I never thought a dude could look so, hot? I think? I got a stiffy just then and there and adjusted myself. No one cared. Jack, I like guess, like floated my boat, for like, whatever reason.
Of course, I never forgot about the plan. It would fall into place and we'd laugh our asses off.
I do have to admit, though, the naked jack off session we did the last weekend changed us some. Sure, we'd played for money, for chips, for favors of a non-sexual kind, (mow the lawn, do the dishes kind of stuff,) but last weekend, where we took off all our clothes in front of our group and jerked our meat, well, I felt different to these guys. They were past cool. They were awesome. And, yeah, I did watch Kris too much. I jerked to the image of fooling around with him, and touching his thing. Mostly, to tits and cunt though. Kris was another brown haired kid, just average everything except he had green eyes. I really liked him. I was pretty sure, like, he stared at Evan way too much.
Evan was a brat. He was a year younger than us, but, he was still cool. Just barely.
Supper showed up an hour later. Our chip run at Texas-Holdem told me that, like, Jack wasn't terrible at poker, but he wasn't brilliant either. He seemed to hold his own, right till the end. Evan won the big pot. He usually loses, but had some good hands and for whatever reason he just ended up with the whole pot.
After supper was going to be so much fun.
I was so scared the other guys would blow it, but no one said nothing about nothing. I felt like I was holding my breath.
And with that, the paper plates smeared with pizza sauces of and chicken wing sauce were thrown in the trash, the blinds drawn.
"Where did you say your sitter was?" Jack asked, a small smirk on his lips.
"Caeden is out with his girlfriend. He thinks he can get her to fuck tonight, so we are free and clear. Him and me got an agreement." I replied.
"You better not be shitting us, Tag." Kris said. I reassured them all that it was all good and Caeden was a good one and not to worry.
Then we sat around the kitchen table.
"Okay," I announced, "Listen up bitches. We is gonta play some poker. What kinda poker we gonta play?" I asked in some sort of stupid accent. I didn't know what kind, I was just making it up as I went, trying to be a funny ass.
I was hoping to hear a cool group unison answer, but everyone picked a different game. I heard, 'five card stud, black jack' and I think 'Texas-holdem.'
Doh.
"Strip poker. You fucktards. Let's try again" I answered and switched back to the fake accent, "What kinda poker we gonta play?"
"Strip poker!" we cheered. Finally, something went right.
And I dealt. I secretly exchanged looks with Kris. He gave me a knowing smile. It was quick, though and no one saw him. And then I looked at Jack. He just glanced at me like nothing was going on, cool as ever.
"These cards don't feel right." Evan complained.
"Dude. They are the same as all the other cards." I replied while secretly thinking, 'shit.'
"They feel okay to me." Kris said.
"You are just saying this cause you got a shitty hand right off the hop?" Jack outright asked. I held my breath. How could he be so stupid.
"My hand is fine. I just think these cards feel flimsy."
"Listen, you know we are gonna play till one guy is nakee. Let's sweeten the pot." I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction.
"What ya got in mind?" Jack asked. For a new guy, he was really holding his own in this game. He really was cool.
"Losers got to run around the block." I said.
"Like in his underwear?" Evan asked. He didn't get the idea of strip poker at all, it seemed.
"No ass wipe." I said evenly, "like, nakee, no clothes, no boxers, no underwear and no hands over your goods. Butt-fucking naked, hands up, letting everything smack your belly, run naked completely around the block, soft, semi or hard, whatever it is, it hangs out for the neighbors to see."
"I'm in." Jack said almost before I finished my proposal.
"Me too." Kris said, his green eyes shining as a funny smile set on his lips.
"Umm. Don't there-- Isn't there, like old people and women in the neighborhood or something?" Evan stammered.
"Dude. Like last time you were begging us to touch it, now you are shy?" I said. I think it was kind of cruel of me to out him in front of Jack, but he was on the inside with us now, so whatever. "What's wrong? Did it shrink an inch since last week?"
"Well, I just didn't want the world to see it all. You guys seem okay, but if someone called my Mom or something." He whined like a little scrub.
"Yah," Kris piped up, "Hey Mrs. Johnson, we just saw a blond kid go running past our house with a small Johnson. We knew I had to be your son." And then all laughed. I laughed so hard my sides hurt.
After the laughing finally wore off, the question didn't hang on the air quite as heavy.
"Well,?" I looked at Evan, my face still must have had laughter on it.
"Sure. Why-the-fuck-not?" He said, his face smiling, "I'm in. If I lose, I'll run." He took the bate hook line and sinker. Here was the fun part. See, stage one, the deck was marked. I told the guys how the deck worked and we were all going to work as a team to get Evan naked and out the door to run the block. He was so close to figuring it out with the deck feeling light and Jack all but telling him he knew that he had a shitty hand, but he just went along cause we told him to. It was awesome.
There were some crazy hands where we got dealt nothing good three and four times in a row and Evan was dealt some crazy good cards. I stacked the rules so we could bet multiples of clothing if we had a good hand or just fold and lose one. I did everything I could think of, yet for the longest time Evan held his own while our own bodies began to show more and more skin. Even with a marked deck, it looked like Evan was going to win or rather not lose. The first loser would be the runner, so Evan had to be the first to be out of money, or rather clothes.
I also let everyone get what piece of clothing they could bet and Jack had his t-shirt flopped over his thing and a DC cap. His socks, pants and underwear were gone. Two more lost hands or even just one, and it would be Jack running. Of course being the new guy, we all peeked when he shucked his blue Calvin Kleins. I think he was hung pretty heavy.
This could have went sideways so easy and it could have been any of us that lost and had to run the block. And then with a few good hands and a couple quick cheats Evan mirrored Jack. Instead of going down to his underwear, he shucked them and sat with his shirt over his goods and a Fox hat on head. During one of the build up hands, Jack asked "What happens if you welch?" to no one in particular.
"That happened once." Kris said, "Tommy Jenkins was part of our unofficial gang. He lost twenty dollars one night when we were playing for cold hard cash. We were using chips, so we figured that he had the money on him. At the end of the night when he had to pay up, he laughed and said he didn't have any money." He stopped talking and the guys studied their cards.
Finally Jack asked, "So, what happened?"
Kris continued, "We got my Mom to call his Mom and told him to pick him up. We said that he was trying to get us to look at naked magazines. I brought some along, well, cause a mans' got needs. I just didn't know I needed them to frame Tommy. He was grounded for a month and we never spoke to him again. He moved away a little while after."
I could have heard a pin drop. We played for serious. And the cards played on.
The next hand was the critical one. Evan got dealt a pair of Queens. Shit. I couldn't have done anything about that. He was watching too close. It looked like he was going to win, or at least not lose. I was dealing. Then, in the last of my deal, I switched the order last two cards and gave Kris two Aces and Jack a pair of eights. I dealt myself a four hearts and hoped for a draw of a fifth hear for the flush.
The draws came and went and I managed a fifth heart, but Jack was still out with a pair of eights. The draws saw another Queen almost make it to Evan, but I shuffled it under the deck without him noticing. This joke was a lot tougher than I thought. Jack was done. The draws were done and Jack was going to go down to his hat, or his shirt.
Kris looked at his hand and without a word slid him an eight. Jack didn't even look up, he just picked up the eight and slid a junk card back to Kris, all while Evan sat studying his pair of Queens. Those two made their movements so natural you could barely tell, even if you were watching them like a hawk.
I smiled. Shit. I hid my smile and attempted to stoically say, "Your bet Kris"
"I pass," He said. Man, he squeaked by and was still playing each round without a smile or a hint of he knew what was going on. He was good.
"I only got my shirt left, well and my hat. I can bet two?" Jack said, "Then I gotta sit around naked till I lose again and then I run?"
"Yah." I replied
"Can I bet three and when I lose I can just run? I think I wanna go all in, but I don't know if I'm allowed." Jack asked saying "when I lose," not "if I lose." Pretty clever one this one. I looked up at the guys as if the question went to them and not me.
"Sure, but Evan has to go All in too to stay in or he's out his auntie." Kris said. The auntie was one piece of clothing.
Evan was sitting on a pair of Queens, but you could see his mind spinning cause if he lost, he would be running. But a pair of Queens was next to a a sure fire thing, and said, "I guess so. If you want." His eyes not at all managing to look neutral. He totally thought Jack was done.
"Okay. But if either of you two lose, you gotta run. Right?" I made the vote unanimous, but wanted to nail Evan to the corner so he couldn't wiggle out. Both of them nodded.
Evan showed his hand first, the etiquette of last loser showing gone. He was so sure he'd won, his big smile burst out and he announced, "Read em and weep ladies."
One by one we dropped our better hands and Evan's smile dimmed. Jack still held his cards.
"Oh fuck!" Jack yelled, making him sound pissed off and very much the loser. "I only got this shitty hand. Pair of eights" He put his hand on the table, cards up, and Evan's smile light back up like a Christmas tree. I looked at Kris, he looked at me and for a second we paused. My mind clicked as Jack reached out and slid the cards over revealing the third eight. Jack stuck his third eight under the pile and only showed what Evan wanted to see, a losing hand.
"What? Did I forget that last eight? I meant three eights." Jack smiled being a totally-shit-in-controll-ass slid the third eight buried revealing his winning hand, with a very big smile on his face.
Evan's mouth dropped open in complete shock. Th rest of us started hooting and hollering, and Evan howled in near agony.
"HOW!?" He groaned.
"Peel and run!" I laughed and reached out and flipped his hat off his blonde head. Kris and Jack were laughing and making some sort of congratulatory noises and they grabbed his shirt and started lifting it up.
So there stood the little cherub ready to run out the door starkers. We let him wear shoes and he was wearing a face of fear and a flaccid cock. It wasn't near as big as last weekend, that was for sure.
Time for part 2 of the plan.
It was a pretty sparse neighborhood, though. Like, most of the houses had large yards and were set back away from the streets. The street lights turned on, so whoever had to run, would run in the dark. At least that was some of the reassurance that we gave Evan.
We opened the door and the blond white boy streaked across the drive. Not faster than light though. I hit the security lights and our yard and driveway lit up like day. Evan screamed a sort of strangled cry of some sort. He turned left. I pushed the panic button on the car and the lights hit his white pumping cheeks as the tried out run the lights and the horn started to beep.
The little fellow could sure move though. He was gone and around the corner.
And then we looked in the other direction. I could nearly make out his white little carcass in the dim street lights. And then I hit the car panic button we parked illegally facing the other way. The lights came on, flashing the streaker and the horn honking loudly in the otherwise quiet, dark street. We hooted and laughed.
Evan, somewhere around the block seemed to have lost his fear and jogged up to the car lights and did a little strip dance flogging his weenie around. And then lost his nerve danced out of the headlights and ran up to the door and past us to his clothes.
He was quick, I'll give him that. Before I had the alarmed stopped he had all his clothes back on including his hat.
"Man that was so awful and awesome all at the same time." I think some neighbor might have seen me run past, but I was so quick, I don't think she'd even know who it was. I hope anyway. Either way, whatever. Man! I don't even know how I lost!" Evan rambled on about his run.
"Should we tell him?" Kris smiled.
"Sure. Tell him." Jack chimed in.
"Tell me what?" Evan asked, his face growing suspicious.
"Okay, like," I decided to let the lid off the box, "We totally set you up little bro."
"What?" Evan's face darkened even more.
"We, like totally cheated." O fessed up, but still couldn't stop grinning like a damned fool. "We used marked cards, I dealt from the bottom of the deck, we swapped cards and you still nearly kicked our asses."
Jack was laughing, "And we totally had the cars set up earlier today. I thought you were totally onto us when you noticed the deck was lighter than it should have been. And I totally thought you would have noticed the cars parked all funny."
"What!?" Evan's face was a mix of horrified, complete discovered treason and combined rage. The rest of us continued to laugh. Evan jumped and attacked me. We wrestled and between fits of laughter I explained that I checked our street, and the whole street was either out of town or at an event or something. I only semi-lied, cause I missed a couple of houses, but, like whatever. Finally, Evan got the joke and laughed too.
In our wrestling and tussling on the floor, Evan said, "Man, I thought I was going crazy there. I had such good hands and you guys seemed to know what I was going to do next. I thought I should have wiped the floor with you the awesome hands I had."
"You wouldn't believe how hard it was to cheat. I totally thought you would catch us." It felt good for me to confess. I'd been plotting the little scheme all week and being able to come clean made me feel so much better.
We broke up our wrestling and, with everyone dressed, well, with the exception of Jack, he wasn't wearing a shirt, we had some pop and chips and laughed and relived the whole joke. I really had canvased our neighborhood asking who'd be home and busy tonight. No one would be calling the police because of the car alarms. I told them I was doing a mock test for a school paper and the alarms would be going off.
Anyway, we laughed and wrestled a little bit more as Evan decided that Jack and Kris should pay in pain for their contribution.
By the end of pop session we had sweated up, switched the deck and decided to play strip poker. "For real this time." Evan said, his eyes watching us suspicious with every move." and he even examined the cards, even though we broke a new deck out of the plastic because he was pretty sure we would cheat him again.
"Okay, Evan," I said, "Cause we were such shits to you, you can pick the game and the dare the loser has to do. You can pick the house rules. Loser does whatever you say." Evan seemed to brighten up a little.
"Okay. No cheating. If I catch anyone cheating they're loser right off." He said right off.
"Sure." I replied, "Don't worry. That was a one off. It was all planned. I told you before. But remember, if you lose, fair and square, you gotta do what the loser does, but you pick. We did the joke, no harm no foul."
"Okay." Evan looked around at us. "We're gonna play in the living room on the floor." So he cleared a space. "This way it will be harder to cheat." He explained, but I figured it was more, like, he wanted to be closer to our goods when we lost, so he could see them better. Of course it was harder to cheat. We sat our knees almost touching.
"What's the dare?" Kris asked his blue eyes sparkling.
"Winner gets the losers hand." Evan said.
"What? That doesn't make any sense." Jack spoke for us all.
"Winner gets a hand job till he spunks and the loser has to give it to the winner. Naked." Evan said, his blue eyes were as serious as a heart attack. We all sat there in silence. Would the little perv push us this far? We could stand down and neg out, but then after what we pulled with him, making him lose deliberately, how could we?
Jack, the newest and proving to be the coolest guy, who incidentally had a nice six pack wearing no shirt, was the first to agree, "I'm in." he said.
"I'm in." I mimicked. I probably would be in the middle cause that's usually how it rolls with me anyway. Besides, if I lost, well, I would do my duty. These were cool guys.
"Me too." Kris added. And he dealt the cards.
There wasn't the usual banter we had. We turned on some tunes on. The music played and so did we. Everyone looking at everyone else's faces for tells and for cheats. I've never played a more serious game as that night. Jack never put his shirt back on and his six pack was a nice distraction, I thought anyway. Evan's house rules weren't imaginative, so we could only lose one piece of clothes at a time. I was on a run. I lost four in a row. I decided to let them see me, right off the hop. I took off my pants and bet my underwear. We all had to have hats, for some reason. I can't remember where or who decided, so I just propped my hat in front of my stiff little guy and played cards to win.
Pretty soon, we were all down to our hats, shirts or socks. Jacks guy was huge and all our eyes nearly bugged out as the new boy shucked off his black wallmart specials off and let his semi hang out for every one to see. He didn't trim and his pubes were pretty unruly on top of his big nice package.
And then the door opened. "Hey guys." Caeden said causally as he walked in the door seeing four pretty naked stiff boys scramble for their clothes. "Watchya doin? Playin strip poker?"
Copyright 2013 Kristopher Landon
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Notes from the author: Be kind to everyone. One day, one of those people might be me.
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No part of this publication may be reproduced,distributed,or transmitted in any form or any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system without the express prior written permission of the author.
Characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.