Date: Sat, 14 Feb 2009 21:49:53 -0500 From: tommyhawk1@aol.com Subject: Daddy's Poker Night DADDY'S POKER NIGHT By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM "But Shirley!" Daddy moaned as my mom dropped the bomb on him. "Tonight's my poker night! Can't you take him along with you?" "You know I'm going to the hospital where my Great Aunt Edna is in intensive care." Mom said. "They aren't going to allow him in with me.. What do you want me to do, leave him running around out in the waiting room by himself? The nurses will just love that." "Can't you drop him off at a friend's house, then?" "It won't kill you to keep one eye on him while you play your poker." Mom declared. They were talking about me, their only child and I was, according to them, "more than a handful most of the time.." When I'd asked a year ago if I could have a baby brother, Mom's response was, "Oh, Lord, no!" Daddy had laughed pretty loud at that...but I noticed no baby brother had yet arrived. I had listened to the exchange with a great amount of glee. When Mom left and I was still in the house, I yelped out my joy, "Hooray!" I normally hated Daddy's poker night, Mom always took that night to go visit friends (she hated poker!), and I was sent off to stay with one of my aunts or such. But not tonight! Dad turned, his chagrin at being stuck with me a blotch on his face. "All right, sport. I got my friends coming over here in a half hour, and I am going to expect you to keep quiet.. You can stay upstairs, can't you?" I immediately rejected that idea. "No! Why should I? I want to play poker with you!" "You can't play poker, Elmer." Daddy said sternly. "Why not?" I wanted to know. "Because you have to have money to play poker." "I got money." "Oh, yeah?" Daddy asked. "How much?" "Twelve dollars." "Twelve dollars?" Daddy was startled by that. My allowance was only fifty cents a week, which back then, with five-cent candy bars and ten-cent Coca-Colas, was enough to last me through the school week. "How did you get twelve dollars?" "Saving my money." I said. Actually, I'd been given money once or twice, doing things for the neighbors or when an uncle would come visit and smile and press a quarter into my hand. Daddy and his friends played with a pile of nickels, dimes and quarters. "With twelve dollars, I ought to let you play." Mused my Dad briefly. Then he shook his head. "Nah!" "Why not?" "Shirley would kill me. I mean, because poker's a tough game, and if you play, you'll lose all your money and you don't want to do that." Daddy said. "Maybe I could win." I said courageously. "You can show me how you play." "The way you learn how to play is to sit down and lose money while you learn." Daddy said. "Is that why you always lose at poker?" I asked. I'd overheard Mom claim that Daddy always lost at least ten or twenty dollars a week at these games and she couldn't fathom why he liked to even play. "Probably." Daddy admitted. "And you'd lose all your money in less than an hour, I bet." It would be worth it to sit at Daddy's table and be treated as one of his friends for a night.. "I don't mind." I said. "You could keep any money you won from me if I can play." "Don't tempt me, Elmer! Help me set up in here, and maybe you can sit and watch us play. It'll be the cheapest lesson in poker you'll ever get, believe me." "Well, okay." I agreed. I helped Daddy set up his poker table. We had to move our couch and chair back, and then in the area that cleared, we put a table, made of wood, but with collapsible legs that pulled out to set up just like the foldaway metal things. Daddy had built it, the top was covered with a green felt material and built-in circles with cork for people to set their beers or drinks. Daddy had built it himself and was proud of it. Mom called it a waste of good money. Then we set the dining room chairs around it. The guys started showing up a few minutes later. I was kept busy fetching them all beers from the refrigerator and carrying the beers they'd brought with them to put in to replace the others. And put the pretzels and chips into big bowls and bring them out. One of them brought a pizza; Daddy made me sit at the bar in the kitchen to eat my own slice of that, and by the time I'd done with it, the game was underway. Six big, burly guys were sitting around Daddy's poker table, cards in hand, handfuls of coins on the table and handfuls of pretzels nearby that, and they wielded those with one hand while the other clutched cards. Smoke was rising from four of them, three cigarettes and a cigar, which left the room smelling less like it was on fire and more like somebody had just finished shitting burnt charcoal briquettes. Not my metaphor, my mother's while cleaning up after one of the poker nights, as related to a friend in my presence. I pulled one of the kitchen barstools out and sat down where I could see. I saw Daddy's cards as well as two others. I watched as Daddy threw down two of his cards, and got two more. I looked at the five cards in his hand and I said, "Hey, you got rummy, Daddy!" "Rummy?" one of the other players, a guy named Roger, asked. "Yeah." I said. "Three, four, five, six, and seven!" "I fold." "Me, too." "I'm out!" the other players said. "Elmer!" Daddy snapped at me. "In poker, you don't tell the other people what you have." "I'm sorry." "I'm not!" another guy, Dak, chipped in. "A straight flush, and me with three of a kind. I would'a dropped a good five dollars or so betting against that." "Five dollars." Dad moaned. "Oh, jeez! Elmer, you can't watch us play if you're going to tell other people what my cards are, you got that?" "Can I tell you what cards the other guys are holding?" I wanted to know.. That grew moans from the other guys. "Elmer, you can tell me what cards they others are holding anytime you want to." Daddy said. That earned him a shower of pretzels, and general laughter. "I'll keep quiet, Daddy." I promised. "Yeah, do that." Daddy said, "Jeez, a straight flush, first one in I don't know how long, and Elmer just blurts it out!" he moaned. "I'm sorry, Daddy." I said. "Just keep quiet." Daddy said to me. "Don't talk to us, don't ask us any questions about the game, and don't talk to yourself, otherwise, I don't care what else you do, just keep quiet, got that?" "I got it, Daddy." I said. Well, I kept quiet, and that got boring in a real hurry. They were playing this game and I couldn't figure it out at all. They picked cards, and I'd think they were supposed to get all the same kind, and then I'd see a guy win who had cards that weren't at all alike. One guy, Trent, got a "full house" which meant he had three sixes and two fours, and that won against my Daddy's hand and he had two kings, two jacks and a queen. That didn't make any sense to me! If a house was going to be "full," shouldn't the bundle of face cards my Daddy had make a fuller house than those small cards Trent held? So I was getting bored in a hurry. Do anything I wanted to, huh. Just don't make any noise and don't ask about the cards the guys were holding. So what did that leave? What was Trent doing? A big, beefy guy with a beard, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, he was sitting with one hand holding his cards. The other hand was on his lap. If I hadn't been as short as I am, I never would have seen under the table to see what that hand was doing. Trent was fondling his crotch. Kind of rubbing, kind of pulling. I watched this, and then smirked. Do whatever I wanted to, huh? The mischievous streak which had caused my Mom and Dad to try to foist me off on the other, the one which caused me to be an only child, the one at which the girls at school flinched when they saw me coming, that streak sent me on my course. Right under that table. Daddy saw me go under, but he didn't say anything, because I was being quiet, like he'd said. I don't know what Daddy thought I'd do under the table. But then, he didn't see what Trent was doing like I did. I scooted under and up to Trent's legs, and I got on my knees between them. That let my head just scrape the top of the table. I was able to then reach up and fondle that bulge that distended his jeans between the spraddle of his legs. Trent grunted in some surprise when I did that, and I looked up to see him peering down at my hand on his crotch. Then he grunted again, a smile slid across his lips, and he scooted down ever so slightly. "I fold." he said to the others. And then both his hands came down and undid the buttons of his jeans for me. With that as my go-ahead, I pulled his jeans down a bit and that let me get the white of his boxers showing, and I was then able to fish into the fly to tug out the stiff meat of his dong. I don't want you to think I'd ever done this before, not to anyone but my friends my own ages, a time or two. I was going way beyond that tonight, and I knew that. If Trent hadn't smiled at me when I touched him, I would have stopped at that. And when he opened his fly...well, why not? So I pulled out the first adult pud in my life, and when I saw it, I went "Whoa-a-a!" "You all right under there?" Daddy asked. "I'm fine, Dad." I said. "Be quiet under there, Son, or you'll have to go upstairs to bed." Daddy chided me. I was looking Daddy's way and he wasn't even looking under at me. "Okay." I said. "Shirley's gone to visit a sick relative." Dad explained to the group. "Stuck me with the kid, sorry, guys." "He'll be okay." Trent said, his hard rod in my hand. "Don't worry about him. Your deal, Roger." While Roger dealt the cards, I began to work Trent's cock back and forth. I'd never had a dick that big in my hand by one-quarter, it was so big that my fingers barely met around it. I marveled at how the pumping of my hand was causing it to ooze out a clear, sticky liquid. It got all over my hand, and I stopped, lifted it to my lips and, like any kid, tried to lick it off in order to get it off my hand. I had just intended to loosen it with my spit...but the flavor of it caused me to pause. I'd expected something nasty-tasting. This was...this was good! Hot and salty and kind of meaty-tasting. It tasted like...it tasted like a man! Trent looked under when I let go of him and he saw me reaching back again and went back to his cards. "Give me three cards." And then my lips and tongue touched on his glans. That got me a startled grunt, and his left hand came down to check where my head was. Feeling it at his basket, he felt it out, then patted me like I was a dog, and he scooted a bit further down under the table. That gave me full access to this stiff pud of his, and I began to suck on him like it was a gigantic fleshy lollipop. Trent threw in his cards (I'd already learned that when a guy wanted three cards, he probably was going to give up after that) and both his hands came down and he caught my head and he drove his cock up into my mouth and back and forth. "Like that." he hissed. "Like that?" my Dad wanted to know. "Like what?" "I said lousy luck.'" Trent said, and I nearly giggled at that. Daddy was at the other end of the table, he was going to have look way down to see me sucking on Trent's prick. Trent had shown me how and I was busily working his cock but good. It was slopping out that salty, tasty fluid still, and I was lovingly gulping it down as fast as he produced it. And as I sucked, Trent lost hand after hand to my Dad. He was grunting out his bids and choices, and even I could tell he was doing a miserable job of it. Daddy was chortling gleefully as he raked in hand after hand. But Trent didn't seem to care, he was more interested in what I was doing to him under the table, he was now thrusting up with his hips, not hard, but enough to make his cock stab deeper into my throat. And with a muffled sort of grunts and groans, Trent hit his climax. I'd had these with my friends, done these to my friends, and when they had their orgasms, they had groaned like Trent was doing and that was all. I wasn't prepared for what he did when he ejaculated. The first wad hit my mouth and I thought it was more of his salty stuff like he'd been leaking all along. But the second clump of hot goo hit a second after that and then more and more, and I realized that this was something special, something more than my friends had ever done. I desperately gulped at this heavy flood of hot male jizz, and even then, it dribbled down my chin and plopped onto my knees and then it was done and Trent was panting hard. "Hey, Trent, are you all right?" my Dad asked, his voice full of concern. "You've lost nearly thirty dollars to me on these last four hands, but if you're sick...." "No, no, I'm fine." Trent gasped out. "Just a bit too much beer, I think. I'll be all right in a minute." His hands were fastening back his jeans, covering that thick, slippery, delicious dong once again in blue denim. I sat back, wiping my lips. Wow! "Hey, Elmer." came the whisper. It was Roger, he was sitting to Trent's right. I saw his face and his hand, and then his hand pointed towards...his cock. Out and hard and waiting for me. All right! I scooted over and in between Roger's legs. Roger was thinner than Trent (a lot thinner!), he was lean, his muscles long, slim cords along his arms and legs and back. His cock was similarly long and slender, but it tasted just fine! "Your turn to deal, Roger." said my Daddy. Roger dealt, but by the time it came to playing, I was slurping on his pud far too fast and furious for him to concentrate. Daddy again raked in the money, while I gave Roger a hard suck-job and when he came, this time, I was ready for it. Roger spewed as hard and fast as Trent had, and by the time he was done, Daddy was another fifteen dollars richer. Another hissing sound, this time it was Edward, to Trent's left.. I scooted over and got that hard, black prick in my mouth (it tasted just like a white man's cock, which kind of surprised me, and I guess it shouldn't have), and again I slurped on him while he pretend-played. So it went, through the evening. By the time it was done, I had done all five of Daddy's friends, and gone back and sucked Trent and Edward a second time. Best evening I'd ever had. For Daddy, too. He seemed to know when someone was losing it because of my sucking (though he never understood why, he thought it was the beer they'd been drinking), and he focused in on them and beat them for a handful of times. Daddy ended that evening gleefully richer, and the guys were all relaxed and beaming and saying what a great time they were having, their hands rubbing my head every time I got close to them. Mom came home about ten thirty, and that was the signal for me to scoot out from under the table and give her a hug. "What are you still doing up, Elmer?" Mom wanted to know. I shrugged. "Just playing." "Well, you get up to bed, now." Mom looked at Dad, scoldingly. "You should have put him in bed an hour ago." "Hey, he was my good-luck charm." Daddy said. "I won over a hundred dollars tonight." Mom was surprised at this, Daddy usually ended up over twenty dollars poorer. "Maybe you should play here more often, then. My sisters are tired of putting up with him anyhow." "Great idea!" "Sure, best place to play." "My wife sure won't mind." the guys all chipped in. "Same time next week, then?" Daddy asked. "You know I want to play the game here, it's why I built that table." "Yeah, I love that table." Trent said. "Really makes playing poker a treat." "Get to bed!" Mom swatted my butt, not hard, just making her point. "See you guys next week!" I said, waving, and the male voices bidding me good night, I ran upstairs to bed. I was going to really love my Daddy's poker nights from now on! THE END Comments, complaints or suggestions? E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM