Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2002 20:53:28 EDT
From: Owenstreet204@aol.com
Subject: Betting on Red

Betting on red is a work of fiction, but based on real life events as best
I remember them.  The names where changed to protect the guilty. This story
is purely for entertainment.  Enjoy.


Jared oozed self-confidence to the point of being cocky. He was a tall
lanky 18-year-old high school senior with bright auburn hair and piercing
green eyes.  It seemed like he was good at everything that he did or even
touched.

No, not good, but great!

Despite all of that, his pride and joy was his fluorescent orange pubic
hair that trailed to his navel as it began to darken to match the hair on
his head.  He strutted naked around the locker room longer than most of the
other boys.  Maybe not everyone noticed, but I always thought of him as a
peacock.  He must have felt that way.

My small group of friends, we were very quiet and bookish and good at all
the things that would be important later in life. This however, we did not
know at the time and we wished that we could be popular now.

I already knew that I liked guys and I suspect that maybe more than one of
my buddies did too.  It was never talked about, but we seemed to like the
same things. Hanging out together was good. It felt good to belong to
something.

Life seemed to continue on without too much pain or torment, but that also
never meant fitting in to the main crowd.  Then, one day, things would
change for me.

It seemed like a dozen other parties that I had already been to.  Same
beer.  Same music.  Same girls - too many girls!

I always found myself standing against a wall away from the loud music
wishing I were some place else. Anywhere else.

This was my buddy Mike's party and this really wasn't his crowd either.
They all just showed up somehow. They must have invited one another because
they had nothing better to do.

Mike was bored with the way things were going and he suggested we get up a
poker game to make things more interesting.  He was off to gather the
players.  Anything was better then standing around on another Saturday
night.

Then I saw him. Jared.

He was walking back to the den with Mike and a group of other guys.  That's
all we needed.  Jared had never lost at anything he ever did.

We settled in to play amidst all the noise and people in and out of the
house.  Mike said that there were no chips, so we had to play for our
clothes.

Strip Poker!

Strip poker with a bunch of hunky guys!

I could not believe my luck.  I knew there was something I always liked
about Mike.  I was ready. So glad, that I had worn clean briefs.

Everyone agreed and the first hand was dealt.  It was summertime and most
of the guys were not wearing much clothing to begin with.  This should be
fun! I could feel my dick start to stiffen.

It didn't take very long before almost everyone was down to their
underwear.  No one seemed to care, because they were focused on winning.

No one that is, except for Jared.

He seemed visibly shaken.  This was the guy who always won.  How could this
be happening to him?  How could he sink this low?

Another hand was played and Jared lost.

All eyes were on him.

He knew what he had to do, but would he do it? I do not remember him being
modest before.  He then slid back his chair and stood up in full view of
the table.

With his thumbs inside the waste band of his boxers, he pulled them down to
his ankles.  He quickly stood back up.

After a few whistles and a catcall, his face turned as red as his hair.

He kicked his underwear across the room with a bit of anger and he said
that he needed to be going now. He was defeated.

No one had ever seen Jared lose at anything.  The room was suddenly quiet.

As he turned to leave, I called out to him to stay and continue to play.
He stopped and sharply told me that he had nothing left to bet with.

Your pubic hair, I said.  You can bet your pubic hair on the next hand.

Jared had never said no to a bet in his life.  This was a way not to be a
loser in front of a bunch of wimps.  He thought about it for two or three
whole seconds and he was in.

Mike just looked at me and smiled.  The balance of power had just shifted.

The game began again and someone else lost.  They were down to just a
smile, but their next bet was understood.  Jared looked relieved.  I was
very hard at this point.  The losing continued until everyone was naked.

Everyone that is but, Mike and me.  Then it happened.

Jared lost again.

He jumped to his feet and then froze in his tracks.  First there was fear
in those green eyes, and now the bargaining began.  We really didn't want
to do this did we?  It was just a friendly game.  What else could he bet?

Before there were any answers, Mike was standing in front of Jared with a
pair of electric clippers. The kind that barbers used to use.  It took only
a couple of passes with the clippers and most of his pubic hair was on the
floor around his feet.

While this was happening, a can of shaving cream and a razor appeared on
the table.  A couple of swipes of this razor and cream and Jared's crotch
was now as smooth as baby's bottom.  You could see the shame and anger in
his face.

His crowning glory was gone.

Without his pubes, he looked just like a twelve year old.  He didn't seem
so cocky now.  I thought I saw tears start to well up in his eyes.

Mike picked up Jared's discarded boxers and tossed them to him.

Game over, he said.


That next Monday morning there was a ziplock bag full of bright orange
pubic hair taped to the door of the boy's locker room. Everyone had seen it
there; no one needed to ask who it belonged to. They knew.


Footnote: To this day, I get excited when I even think of a full-grown man
with a hairless groin. After all of these years I still wonder if Jared
ever figured out that those playing cards were marked?


Comments, questions or ideas are welcome at Owenstreet204@aol.com Be
gentle, this is my first time.