Poke Her Night

By Patty Marie

Ryan's contracting business was having temporary financial trouble, but he insisted on hosting his turn for his bimonthly poker night pals. To top it all off, he had a bad run of cards, borrowed to stay in the game, lost that as well and couldn't repay the loan. The holder of the loan was Gary, a recent widower whom Betty had made a special point of inviting to the game.

Betty was incensed when her husband, Ryan, negotiating to settle the loan, offered a night with her to settle the debt. She felt trapped because the only other option would be to give up Ryan's truck, which he needed to finish the job he was working and get his company on solid footing again. She wanted revenge... she knew Ryan to be possessive, so what better way to get it than to go for it and rub the SOB's nose in it. She was sure that he'd intervene before they could do the deed.

His sense of honor wouldn't let him, even when it angers him to have her sleep with Gary. She's equally angry with Gary, for his part in it the negotiations. Her idea is to give him a little as possible. To her surprise, Gary is an excellent lover and won't let her lay as a cold fish. He liked it and so does she.

“You don’t suppose your husband would be fool enough to borrow another $500 from me next game?” he asked.

“We could hope,” she answered.

Ryan wanted her to forget it. She did try to forget, but didn’t really. It was a night of ecstasy and passion. How was she supposed to forget it?

The plot thickens when another poker hostess' husband promises that she would be sleeping with the "big winner" that night when he thought it would be him, but he ends up losing Gary and she cajoles him into keeping his promise. This leads to the other wives wanting to get into the act, resulting in a rule change that ultimately changes poker night to "Poke Her Night."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patty Marie
• Release date: Jul 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310010309

Patty Marie

I'm a senior citizen (semi-retired) who enjoys reading and writing erotic fiction. None of my stories actually happened, to the best of my knowledge. I grew up in and around Portland Oregon and still live in the Pacific Northwest. Most of my stories will take place there, though literary license may be taken with names and locations of places (actual or fictional) mentioned in my books.I am happily married and nearing my 50th wedding anniversary. I enjoy time with my grandchildren, and walks on the beach with my ever lovin'

Book preview

Poke Her Night

By Patty Marie

An erotic novel

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 by Patty Marie

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Cover Photo Image courtesy of Marin / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Poke Her Night

By Patty Marie

Chapter 1

Ryan incites my ire

I couldn’t believe my husband would even suggest such a thing. Ryan and I had been married a little over 10 years. We met in college and were married just after graduation. Ryan had always had a poker night. Back then, it was literally penny ante, with a quarter limit on bets. In those days, the worst that would happen would be for the big looser to give up twenty dollars. He still plays poker every other Friday night. Over the years, some of the group members have dropped out and others have taken their place. And, apparently, I found out, the stakes went up as the guys got more prosperous. The other thing to change was that while the guys played poker, the wives came along and took over the TV room to watch chick flicks that the guys would never put up with. Of course the hostess would supply corn nuts and beer nuts and beer for the guys and more civilized snacks for the women.

On the night in question, we were hosting. I wasn’t sure it was a good thing for Ryan to even be playing poker considering that his business was in a slump. He had a contracting business and we were frankly having a little trouble paying subcontractors; we used all our personal liquid assets to do so. But he insisted that poker night was his only stress relieving activity and it wouldn’t be fair to the group to drop out on our host night. He was right, he worked all day and most evenings he spent writing proposals and working up bids for jobs. He often worked weekends to get jobs done on schedule. Well, when he finished his current job, we’d be solvent again even to the point of taking back the loan we made the business.

Over the past few years, the group had settled into the same six guys and all of us wives had gotten to be close friends. The one thing that marred the whole situation was that Gary’s wife Lynn had been killed in a car accident six months earlier. We all tried to be there for Gary, but in the end, he seemed to be in a permanent funk. Who could blame him? We all missed Lynn and Gary at the poker nights and finally, I called him and persuaded him as a special favor to me to come that fateful night.

Now it wasn’t unusual that if a player had had a particularly bad night that the big winner would lend him some money to stay in the game. Well, this night, it was darling hubby who needed a loan and Gary, the big winner, who supplied the loan. I had no idea just how big these loans could be until the witching hour and the loan came due. It was the custom that the debtor would write a check for any amount that couldn’t be paid in cash to the lender at midnight when the game was scheduled to end. I’d seen the checkbook come out at many a poker night over the years.

Everyone else had left when Ryan and Gary came into the kitchen where I was cleaning up. Ryan seemed nervous. Ah, Betty, we, ah, we’ve got a small problem.

A ‘small problem’? What kind of ‘small problem’?

Ah, a money problem.

Well, we’ve had that for a while. So what’s new?

Well, you see, I, ah, I had a particular bad run of cards tonight.

How bad a run of cards.

Well, I lost my stake and like usual, the winner advanced me some money to stay in the game… so I could have a chance to get even again.

OK, I’m following you so far. So how does that create a problem?

Well, I, ah, lost all the loan money.

OK, so we need to make up the loss. How much is it? I had no idea of just how much it might be. I guess I was thinking that he might want me to cough up my mad money… all fifty dollars of it.

Well, that’s the problem.

How much?

$500.00.

HOW MUCH?

He looked at the floor. $500.00, the problem is we don’t have that much money we can lay our hands on and the rule is the debt has to be settled the same night.

So what do we do?

Well, I could sign over the tittle to my pick up.

How would you go to work then? I mean that truck is your work truck. No truck, no work. You won’t even be able to finish the job you’re in the middle of.

Exactly, that’s why we need another solution. We’re desperate.

Well desperate times call for desperate measures. I looked at Gary. What can we do to settle the debt to your satisfaction? I was trying to be cool, which wasn’t easy. I couldn’t believe that Ryan would even borrow that kind of money knowing that if he lost it, he’d have no way of paying the debt. These people were our friends; it wouldn’t do to Welsh on the debt.

I’d rather let Ryan tell you about that.

Ryan?

Well, ah… well, he, ah… ah… he ah… Ryan stuttered, He would be willing cancel the debt if he spent the night with you, Ryan continued in a rush. He knew just how much trouble he was in. His face showed the fear that it should have when suggesting I prostitute myself to settle his debt.

I turned on Gary. Gary Haskle! How could you come up with such a thing? I thought you were a decent man.

Now it was Gary’s turn to get flustered. Ah, I didn’t it… it just… it just sort of came up.

What do you mean, ‘It just sort of came up’? Just how did it ‘just sort of’ come up. There was fire in my eyes and ice in my voice as I looked back and forth between Gary and Ryan.

Well, Gary said, Ryan was explaining your financial condition to me and how the only thing you had that wasn’t mortgaged to the hilt was his pick up and how he wouldn’t be able to finish the job without the truck. Then he kind of, I think, joked, ‘The only thing of value I could offer would be roll in the hay with Betty.’ I joked back, ‘I can get a quickie for fifty bucks. $500 would get the girl all night.’ Then he turned a little white and said, ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ and here we are.

I was steamed. My husband, my own husband was here to see if I’d be a whore for him. A whore! Ryan Becker, do you really think so little of me to offer my body all night to another man for money?

You’re right, I’m an ass. I’ll go get the title to the truck.

Chapter 2

Revenge

I was so ticked I couldn’t even