Poker Night Dares- Part 1

I write better when I have inspiration, even if it's just a random image that I see online. The best inspiration comes though if I know the man on the other side of the camera, and a familiar face is back for this short series. I'll even make this first installment free as well for new readers to try out.

I'll attach a teaser image here for all of my readers, but only VIPs will get to see every detail on the Discord server. If you like what you see and what you read, then an upgrade would be worth it!

“Okay boys, I’m going to call it a night.”

Looking up from my glass of bourbon that seemed quite a bit less full than it had been moments ago, I saw Trey standing up and grabbing his keys and water bottle.

“Wait, can you drive right now?”

“Fuck no- Leslie’s picking me up, and she brought a friend to drive my truck back home.”

Trey, Conner, and I had ended up at my house after work, and the drinks and wings had done us in. We had intended on just getting a bit drunk and watch some basketball, but the basketball game had been a blowout, and the bourbon had been a bit too good.

Standing up to walk my friend to the door, I was right at the comfortable buzz that would determine the rest of the night. Would I stop now, coasting until I crawled into bed to sleep like a baby? Or would I pour another glass and really have some fun?

When I got back to my recliner, Conner had decided to answer for me as he topped us both off.

“Do you remember those nights we used to have back in the dorm in college?”

We had met back in undergrad where we lived on the same hall. His roommate was an engineering major who literally spent every moment studying with loud classical music playing, and my roommate had dropped out after the first round of midterms, so that meant we basically lived together in my room.

“You’ve got to be more specific. Are you talking about that night that we sledded down the hill on those greasy pizza boxes? Or are you talking about the night that you stayed up all night practically crying that you’d forgotten an entire research paper worth like half of your grade?”

“First of all, fuck you- you know I work best under pressure. And no, I’m talking about our game nights.”

“Ah, those nights.”

It was well into the spring semester of our freshman year because I distinctly remember a snow storm raging outside when Conner brought a deck of cards into the room. We definitely weren’t drinking nice bourbon then- probably some bottom shelf rum that we hid above one of the ceiling tiles in my room whenever the RA would come around.

Conner had started shuffling as he explained what the rules were.

“So, the loser of each round has to do a dare that the other guy decides.”

“What kind of dares are we talking about?”

“Just dumb stuff.”

One of those dumb dares ended in me drunkenly streaking outside around our entire dorm building wearing nothing but a pair of snow boots, and I woke up the next morning with a cold and a hangover.

Now, he was apparently trying to bring that back as he asked if I had any cards. Grabbing them from the hall closet, I saw that my bourbon glass was now even more filled.

“The name of the game is poker.”

The conversation continued as we played, and since neither one of us had work the next day, we decided to have dares be for the loser of two out of three. Luckily for me, that only took two hands for Conner to lose.

“You know the drill- one lap around the house please.” He was at the door before I could finish. “Also, can you grab my trash can from the curb and bring it back up to the garage?”

Back in the dorm, I would have made him do this naked or at least in his underwear, but our priorities had changed a little bit.

The cards were shuffled and ready when he got back inside, and I won yet again before promptly losing the next two hands.

“You know, I actually really like that shirt.” Looking down at my shirt, I saw that it was a plain blue t-shirt that had come in a multi-pack years ago. “Let me borrow that for the night.”

Well, I thought our priorities had changed, but as he sat there with a smirk plastered on his face, I realized that some things never changed.

I pulled off the shirt and was glad that we’d decided to start a fire before Trey had left earlier. His former boy scout training activated whenever he got the chance to use a lighter even if it was just setting up some logs in the fireplace. I sat there in the flickering light shirtless as I tried to figure out if Conner was looking at my chest over his cards.

After I won, lost, and won again, it would now be his turn to have that same thought.

“Let’s make it even.”

Standing up, he began to unbutton his shirt, and that stocky, hairy chest came into view one loosened button at a time.

Back in college, we’d stayed friends even through my internships off campus and his incessant rugby practices. My last internship luckily landed me a job, and Conner became a rugby player at a club across the country. A few years back, he’d finally retired to get a normal office job, and since his family still lived nearby, he came back home.

“Wait, I think you misunderstood. I meant even as in we both would lose one item of clothing. I never said your shirt though- I want those pants.”

“With your short ass? What would you do with these pants?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There was a smirk on my face now.

“You can have the pants next time- we’re counting my chest as this dare.”

I was fine with that, nodding along as he dealt the cards again. He could see me side-eyeing him over my cards, and he apparently wasn’t questioning my intentions at all. We had slept together back in college one time before deciding that we were better friends. That didn’t stop us from playfully flirting with each other though.

He won the first hand of this set again, and his confidence made him play risky, and I knew that. Using that to my advantage, I held my cards one-handed and rearranged my bulge with the other, trying to make it look like I was trying to be sneaky with the adjustment. He puffed out his chest even more thinking that he was distracting me.

After he lost twice in a row, I felt proud that I’d gotten him to distract himself instead. Standing back up, he pulled his jeans off to reveal an old pair of green boxer briefs that were stretched deliciously over those rugby player thighs of his. He flexed a bit before sitting down, and I knew that I had prodded the beast. I was on a winning streak now, but I was very nervous about what his next dare would be once luck turned his way...