The Spa Game – Year Two Ch. 07

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Thank you again to everyone who’s been reading, rating, and commenting. This story gets back into more direct action than the last one. Thanks again to those who’ve been sticking with it. Ratings and comments always appreciated.

Chip Key: Nickname: value, favor, color

Clouds: 1, Touching, White

Canaries: 2, Kissing, Yellow

Lipstick: 5, Oral, Red

Skies: 10, Sex, Blue

Grass: 25, Anal, Green

Doubles/Oranges: 50, Double, Orange

Fucked: 100, Forefit, Black


Vicky felt a lot more confident going to the remote house on her second weekend, but she made sure she never allowed herself to feel cocky about the situation; she was still very much a newbie, and most of the other people at the spa were still ahead of her, either because of experience, card playing ability, or both. Sylvia tried to engage her in a bit of conversation on the way but it was inane and Vicky only gave tacit responses. She got more engaged in the conversation when Robin spoke up, though.

“I hope newbie night is good this year,” Robin said.

Sylvia shrugged and said, “Noelle has been talking up her girl all month. Not sure about the guy Zach’s bringing.”

“I hope he’s at least bi,” Robin said.

“Newbie night?” Vicky finally asked.

“It’s when the freshmen prospects show up for the first time,” Sylvia explained, “Usually three or four weeks after the start of the semester. The spa is a lot to take in and requires real thinking about whether you want to be involved, so we don’t want to force new students to consider that right away along with all the other stuff they run into.”

“Plus it gives people time to weed out legitimate crazy people. There are a lot of really hot people out there that are absolute whack jobs,” Robin added.

“But you brought me in last week?” Vicky prompted, “And didn’t Ammad start the week before?”

Robin shrugged. “It’s different with upperclassmen. First we don’t have to worry about them getting acclimated to Veretrum, and second there’s more of a chance people have vetted them. We actually have more people starting this year than normal.”

“Because Kathy left?” Vicky prompted.

“Yeah, partly,” Sylvia said.

Vicky had brought up Kathy’s name specifically to get a reaction, and she carefully watched both women. Sylvia looked a bit relieved when the former member was brought up, but Robin’s body language was an interesting mix of anxiety, paranoia, and a slight hint of wistfulness. Clearly Robin’s relationships with Kathy had been far more complicated than simply despising a domineering woman.

After arriving at the house and organizing her chips for the intro game, Vicky just people-watched, gathering more info on everyone but carefully avoiding attracting Vincent’s attention again. Soon enough the two freshman were introduced.

Noelle’s sponsored addition was a girl named Lucy Hong, and as much as she cringed at herself for the thought, Vicky’s immediate reaction was that anyone would be hard pressed to find someone who more perfectly fit the American stereotypical image of an Asian girl; she was shorter even than Noelle, had the thin eyes and flatter face associated with many people of southeast Asian descent, and probably barely weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. Her jet black hair was flat and straight, cut even with her chin all the way around. Her jeans fit tight enough to show that she had the skinny, smaller curves many people associated with Asian women as well. Unlike Noelle’s somewhat aloof personality, however, Lucy seemed energetic and bubbly, and Vicky saw a bit of raw excitement in her expression.

Personality-wise, Zach’s friend Evan Gartner couldn’t be more different. He wasn’t dour or miserable, but where Lucy was bubbly energy, Evan was relaxed calm, taking in his surroundings without seeming overwhelmed, excited, or bothered by any of it, but still maintaining a pleasant expression. It was possible he was high or had drunk enough to give himself a mild buzz, but Vicky thought it more likely that was simply his default outlook. Physically, he had a polo shirt and slacks on over a body that seemed well built enough, but there were some folds on his face and a little bit of extra paunch there that suggested Evan was relying on the glories of a late teenage metabolism and mild exercise to offset whatever diet he had. If his seemingly carefree attitude extended to sexuality, Vicky guessed Robin had nothing to worry about concerning his preferences.

“First hand in fifteen minutes,” Cyn announced.

* * * * *

A few hands into the game Vicky realized neither of the new players were anyone she had to worry about from a poker front.

Lucy either knew very little about poker beyond what she’d picked up at some casual games or she was intentionally playing badly; she seemed to be trying to set some sort of record by losing enough chips in the intro game to give someone a full set Demetevler Escort of grass chips, even though that was legitimately impossible until more of her gold chips made it into circulation through trades. Still, she avoided simply giving her chips away constantly just because of the realities of poker; if you threw a lot of chips out for a bet, people had to put in just as many chips to keep playing. Even if you literally told them you had a garbage hand (which, based on Lucy’s body language, she was doing a lot, at least from Vicky’s perspective), it didn’t help the other players if they also had garbage hands; if they called it was pure gambling rather than poker, and many people more conscientious about their chips weren’t willing to risk it. Despite that, after seven hands Vicky was sure someone had a full stack of Lucy’s blue chips, and nearly everyone at the table could probably lay claim to whatever oral skills she possessed. Around hand six she saw Cyn quietly step over and whisper to the girl. Her attitude mellowed a bit from then on and her bets weren’t quite as carefree, but she was hardly reserved.

Evan was at least a more all-around contribution to the atmosphere. He seemed to play with at least an awareness of general strategy and the realities of poker, even if he wouldn’t immediately be slotted into the top tier of players. He also exerted more effort to maintain a “poker face” during the games. Vicky was still able to read a lot from him if she focused, like with most other people, but at least he wasn’t blatantly broadcasting his positions. That was only during hands, though; he let his guard drop considerably between play and would jovially engage anyone nearby in conversation.

Vicky maintained her conservative play during the intro game, which Evan had declared to be five-card draw. She only went in on hands where she had at least a three of a kind unless a few specific opponents had already folded. She folded several decent hands just because she saw Vincent, Robin, or Ammad put up money, and she declined the risk of calling with two pair of threes and fives even though she’d only have been playing against Charles, Amy, and Zach. Despite her ultra-reserved approach, by the end she had won enough of Lucy’s chips that she could pay the sit-out cost of the night game solely with them.

But she also knew she needed to start actually participating in the spa, or she was going to be dismissed by the people here just like she had been in Veretrum as a whole. It was the announced last hand of the game and she’d pulled up a mostly nondescript hand, but she also had the benefit of being the “dealer” for that game and betting last. Amy, seated next to her, was in by virtue of being the big blind, though she was in 90% of the time regardless. Evan and Zach had both put in chips, as had Lucy and Charles. Everyone else had folded out, meaning the spread of players in the hand was fairly weak. Vicky’s hand had three hearts in it, two of them face cards. She knew Charles and Zach, at least, wouldn’t have put in chips without an actual hand to show for it, but if she didn’t at least try to make a move now she’d have to wait until the following morning. She matched the bet with some of her canaries and called for two cards.

Chance or probability were on her side that night as she pulled two more hearts into her hand, giving her a full flush. Now came the more interesting part. With five card draw, unlike Texas hold’em, no cards were on the table while in play; you generally had no insight into what cards people had, so it was purely down to a read of the other players. Vicky smirked to herself.

Scanning across the table, Amy still had nothing, though she had no hesitation in placing her twenty-chip bet. Evan called her while Zach bowed out. Charles was right behind him, but Lucy also ponied up the money. A quick scan of the other girls remaining in the game told Vicky they had nothing; they weren’t even looking at their own cards, they were paying attention to her and Evan, probably wondering who would end up with their chips. Evan, meanwhile, had something but it clearly wasn’t a hand he was totally confident of. Given that, when the bet got around to Vicky, she raised it to 30. Amy called, of course, but Evan had to think about it. Vicky secretly hoped he did call; she hadn’t managed to snag any of his chips that game and while she wasn’t repulsed by the idea of trading in a favor with one of the girls, her preference would be Evan; he was as new to the spa as she was and his attitude was unlikely to cause her problems.

Evan did eventually call, followed predictably by Lucy. Vicky displayed her flush to a chagrined Evan, who laid down his lowly three of a kind. As she surmised, Lucy and Amy both had mere pairs to their name at the end of the hand. Vicky gladly raked in the winnings, which were easily a hundred total chips. She also noted with Otele gelen escort a smile that about thirty of them were chips with Evan’s name on them.

After the game wrapped and she had a quick consultation with Cyn (where she ignored the subtle knowing look on her friend’s face as she negotiated her chips into appropriate denominations) she went in search of the new player. Most people were gathered around the evening buffet in the kitchen and she found her quarry there, though she also had to brush of a suggestive and eager set of expressions from Lucy.

“Evan?” she asked.

“Hi,” he said, his muted enthusiasm slightly betrayed by a hint of nervousness.

“If it’s not too much for you right now, I have these,” Vicky said, showing a hand full of red chips with Evan’s name on them.

“Um, right,” he said, as if he suddenly remembered what one of the main activities at the spa was, “I guess we should go somewhere?”

“Probably,” Vicky agreed, letting a friendly smile out. She appreciated the nervousness; it may just have been performance anxiety on his part, or the sudden realization that the whole thing about chips and favors wasn’t just talk, but Vicky allowed herself to think it was because he was nervous about being with a pretty girl.

Vicky led him to the solarium where she’d hung out the previous weekend, relieved to find no one there.

“Um, I’m not the best at going down; I haven’t had a lot of one on one with girls,” Evan began, but Vicky cut him off.

“Not a problem,” she said, “Sit.”


“Evan,” Vicky said. She’d changed her voice from businesslike to sultry, and let more sway and languid motions sneak into her movements as she walked over to him. She leaned up and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to suck your cock for five minutes. If you wouldn’t mind sitting down?”

Evan didn’t exactly leap into a chair, but he didn’t waste time finding a seat, helpfully undoing and dropping his pants in the process. Vicky didn’t have a long list to compare against but Evan’s equipment seemed about average in size at first glance. He was already mostly hard, probably from a combination of looking at her and the performance Vicky had just put on for him. She did a model walk over to him, keeping eye contact the whole way. By watching him during and after the game, Vicky had figured his carefree attitude also came with a corresponding desire to not be in charge. He wasn’t fully submissive; he didn’t want someone ordering him around, but he would be more comfortable if someone else assumed a leadership role. So Vicky’s job was to play the “experienced ‘older’ woman” for him.

By the time she finished prowling up to him (a fifteen foot walk that she’d stretched into a long thirty seconds), her performance was enough to get all Evan’s blood where it needed to go. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the wingback of the chair and doing the “stripper” thing of keeping her body about a foot from his without ever actually touching him. He was smiling, clearly enjoying this and not behaving like a nervous teenager, but she still saw some pleasurable anxiety in his expression.

“Would you like me to take my top off?” she whispered at him?

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, intently focused but not overwhelmed.

Without moving anything but her arm, Vicky unbuttoned her blouse while still perched over him. She started from the bottom, so he could see the shirt falling open gradually before her silk bra-clad breasts were exposed as her shirt fell open. She rose quickly and snapped her arms back, accomplishing the dual goal of removing the shirt and forcing her tits forward. She couldn’t compete with Cyn or Noelle, or even Robin really, but her small C/generous B-cups had enticed enough men in the past she knew they were an asset.

She undid the clasp on the back of the strapless bra as her blouse fluttered to the ground, so when she leaned forward again to brace herself on the back of the chair, her bra dropped onto Evan’s thighs. Now her tits were hanging a few inches from his face and commanded all of his attention. She no longer had any concerns about his arousal.

“Now,” she said in a sultry whisper, “you just sit back and let me do all the work.”

She stepped back a bit so she was better lined up for what she planned. Keeping her movements slow, she bent at the waist and kept her legs straight and spread. With a small readjustment of the angle, she captured the head of his cock in her lips. She circled her tongue around the head quickly, and kept up the motion as she slowly engulfed his tool. Evan let out a contented sigh as her progress got to the bottom of his mushroom head, then inhaled again as Vicky kept going. Eventually Vicky had to stop running her tongue completely around his cock, but given the reason was it was buried too far in her throat she wasn’t worried about complaints.

She thought Balgat Escort she dragged it out to a minute, but either way her slow progress down his shaft ended when she bottomed out, the top of his penis pushing just slightly into her throat. She could feel it pulsing, and based on the tension she could see in his thighs, she’d worked him up good just with her opening. She started pulling back out slowly again, with a similar technique, and Evan started quivering.

Evan was either naturally sensitive, completely overwhelmed by the scenario, or he hadn’t had any stimulation for a while; Vicky had only been able to get this much of a reaction out of Lawrence when he’d gone almost a week without sex, and one or two hookups in the past had claimed to feel barely anything with this technique. With her current partner, she had to forego the tongue action lest he erupt prematurely. For a while she just bobbed along the middle of his shaft, keeping her tongue tucked back. Evan’s tremors abated and he started growing in her mouth a bit, suggesting he was stimulated but not being pushed toward cumming.

She briefly changed her technique by kneeling and resting herself on his thighs. She’d mentally debated whether this was breaking the “purist” approach. She was touching him; with her arms and breasts resting on his legs where before her mouth had literally been the only thing in contact with his body, but then again most people seemed to agree the white chips referred to “hand” touching. A lot of people, even those who wanted to be purists, probably lacked the core strength to replicate her “bowing” blowjob. Kneeling also pulled Evan’s cock into a different angle, one she knew most guys enjoyed but couldn’t get off to without a lot of effort. She took advantage of that to up her game, putting her tongue back into the mix and applying even more suction. Before long Evan’s hips started bucking, trying to increase the speed or pressure on his tool.

Vicky met hit eyes and wagged her finger, playfully admonishing him for being naughty. He settled back down and then Vicky returned to her “bowing” position. Rather than taking him deep again, she focused on stimulation. Her mouth went 3/4 of the way down and back up at a middling pace, stopping at the ridge of his head, while her tongue focused all of its attention on the underside and tip of his cock.

“Oh Fuck!” Evan cried. Vicky noticed him white knuckling the arm rests now, and his abs and thighs had gone rigid. She kept up a tortuous pattern; rapidly stimulating his head at the top of her bobbing, licking the underside as she descended. More and more precum was available for her every time she came up to lick the head. He would have gone off already if Vicky hadn’t been intent on monitoring his reactions and responses, and varying her technique.

After keeping him on the edge for a bit, her phone buzzed. She immediately sucked as hard as possible and dragged her tongue along the underside of his shaft, pulling off him with a pop. The final stroke was enough and Evan erupted as his cock flopped back, pumping a decent load mostly onto his stomach. He was breathing heavy and Vicky’s breaths were somewhat heavy from the exertion.

“Wow,” Evan said, “was that really only five minutes?”

“On the nose,” Vicky confirmed as she wiped her chin.

“What can you do with more time?” he asked.

“You’ll have to win some chips to find out,” Vicky teased, then walked off.

* * * * *

“Sylvia requested this, but I won’t bother you,” Cyn said as she entered the bedroom, “Pretend I’m not here.”

“I doubt that will be possible with one as striking as you.”

Cyn wanted to be annoyed but she smiled and took Ammad’s compliment at face value. She still didn’t entirely trust the man, but if she were being fair she had no reason. He’d been mildly aggressive at first and had expressed some opinions that suggested a certain amount of misogyny, but he’d been nothing but polite and flirtatious overall. She knew he’d cashed in at least one set of skies with Amy and she hadn’t complained, but then again some people rather cruelly joked that Amy could meet a rapist on the street and would strip herself naked before he had a chance to threaten her.

Cyn wore another one of what she called her “combat suits”: a blood red skirtsuit tailored to her and custom-made; she had no blouse on, and the suit’s jacket had built in bust support that worked even for her because of how tight the coat fit and the sturdiness of its material. In a business setting, nylons would have been a given, but Cyn usually went without at the spa, instead settling for a pair of lacy thong panties.

Syl liked lace in most of her wardrobe; even a few of her jeans had lace sewn into the top of the waistband and as designs on the back pockets or cuffs. But tonight she had put on a flowy blouse and loose, floor length skirt, both a pale pink. The blouse had a wide, deep cut at the top, but Syl’s breasts were small enough that it was barely scandalous. On her waify body it gave the impression a stiff breeze would blow the whole outfit off her body.

Ammad walked over to her purposefully and ran his hand along the back of her shoulders, not covered by her blouse. He leaned forward and spoke quietly to her, but Cyn could still make out what he said.

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