Maxine Stone's New Life
Copyright© 2011 by carniegirl
Chapter 345
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 345 - Maxine stone is a retired Air Force Noncom trying to get by in a small town. Her new life is filled with small characters and minor adventures.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fa/ft Ma/Ma Consensual Reluctant Coercion Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Mystery Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Fisting Transformation Prostitution
I drank two cups of very strong black coffee and emptied my holding tank. I expected to be pouring drinks into it for at least a few hours. I walked across the street carrying a six pack of canned cokes. I remembered that in my locker there was an almost full bottle of some kind of Irish Whiskey. The Irish Whiskey was a gift from someone I worked with now and then. Yeah him,
I walked across the street and felt an eerie feeling as I crossed over the spot where I had almost bled to death. I remembered how hollow it felt to finish off Nanny Cunt, when I was the new me. It was okay, but I'm sure the old me would have enjoyed it much more.
Anyway, I went in the rear door and down the stairs. I always heard the echo of muffled screams, when I first entered the room. Maybe Jennifer and her guests heard it as well. Maybe we really did have a dungeon ghost in the place. It would make the place a hell of a lot more interesting.
I had been warned not to be late, so I was about ten minutes early. The residents of the building, who were going to play, were already assembled. Leon and dancer, Vlad and Anya, all stood at the bar waiting. I joined them in time to greet Sylvia, as she walked in before I even got the coke into the cooler.
"You must have pulled in right behind me. I'm surprised that I didn't see you," I admitted to Sylvia.
"You looked as though you had other things on your mind. You aren't worried about the housing development are you?" she asked.
"Not in the least, are you?" I asked. If she hadn't been a little worried, then I would have to be, I thought. Someone had to be a worrier.
"Yes, I am just a little. We are moving into a stage where I have to argue with the foreman from HLF and he keeps pushing me," Sylvia admitted.
"One piece of advice, then we don't talk anymore business. Find yourself a guy who can do all the things HLF are supposed to do. Then put him on speed dial. This is a house by house deal with HLF. If they give you shit, Christians or not, dump them. It's not Sunday, it's a work day. Now, no more business."
Just a few minutes later Jennifer came in with two men. We were going to be one man short, but I knew something they didn't. Sylvia was going to be happy to be seen and to look. She wasn't looking for a man like I was.
The three latest arrivals walked up to the group of us, so that Jennifer could introduce them. She started on the other side of the group so she got to me and Sylvia almost last. When she introduced us, I was not a bit surprised that both men couldn't take their eyes off Sylvia.
The older distinguished looking man got introduced around first. His name was John something or other. He was wearing a suit, so he was going to need a few special instructions, especially since he was a lawyer.
The younger one was called Billy and he was in a knit shirt with a wind breaker over it, so he was good. I still expected him to try to sell his socks or something like the new people always did.
"You are the lawyer Jen, so you explain to the newbies how this works," I demanded.
"In order to play you sell your clothes to the bank," she began "Everything which exposes skin has a value. You hang it on the nails over there and the banker gives you the equivalent amount of chips. When you are out of clothes, and chips, you are out of the game. If you have a surplus of chips and want to buy your clothes back you can. At the end of the game, it's just over and you leave dressed in whatever you have left. You can try to negotiate something with the winners to get enough chips to buy back your clothes, or drive home as you are. Yes I know us residents have the better deal, but hell it's out game, so our rules."
I was in a sweater, over a tee, over a plain cotton chemise. My breasts were so small and so firm, since they were manufactured, that I had recently given up on bras, more or less. I looked like a teenage boy, with the bad hair and almost flat chest. If I wore something with a skirt, and that showed off my small cleavage, then there was no doubt. I could also wear a slightly padded push up bra, if I really wanted to make the 'I'm a chick damn it' statement. Most of the time, I didn't care whether the people I dealt with could figure it out or not.
So the game began almost on time. I sold my sweater, my tee shirt and my jeans to the bank for 3000 chips. When I sat down I was in the chemise and my plain cotton bikini panties. Sylvia sat on my right. She was in an almost industrial strength bra and plain white granny panties. Even so she got the most stares.
Most all the men were in white tee shirts and boxer shorts. Some even had bulges. I found the size of Leon's bulge to be a surprise. I supposed that it was how he had made a living as a social spy as opposed to a field agent type spy.
Dancer was in a support bra and panties that appeared to be silk, forever elegant, I thought. Anya, like Sylvia, was industrial chic all the way. Jennifer was the only woman in a fancy bra and panties. I could see her nipples through the bra and her pubic hair through the panties. Jennifer was at her sluttiest, but that was okay. After all she was in the 'after the marriage' high state. I had never been there, but I knew women who had. At least none of the guys she brought to the poker game were college kids.
I bailed out of the first hand early after losing only 100 chips. It went back and forth for the first hour. We did find out how bad a player the Dancer really was. She was the first to need more chips. The garment which revealed her breast was worth 2000 chips so she sold out. We all found out what Leon already knew, Dancer had major sag issues. She probably couldn't afford a boob lift, but Leon surely could. Why she had sag issues was a mystery, unless Leon liked them that way.
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