Another loud roar of laughter erupted from the dining room. Yumi glanced up from her English book for the third time, staring wistfully at the door that connected the kitchen to the more formal dining area. It was "Poker Night" in her exchange family's household. Mrs. Gillespie had abandoned the house for the night, off to see her sister who lived all the way across town. In his wife's absence, Mr. Gillespie took advantage of the situation, inviting over some of the men he worked with for beer, poker, and the football game. They'd done their best to keep out of the kitchen for the first hour or so to give Yumi a chance to study. But as time passed and more money was won or lost, the alcohol took effect and they began to forget that they were supposed to be quiet. Now that most of them were pushing well into being drunk, the celebrating cheers and merriment kept becoming more and more frequent.



In truth, Yumi was torn between studying for her college exam and going in to join them. She loved poker, and had been one of the better players among her group of friends back home in Japan. It would be exciting to go pit her skills against several grown American men. But on the other hand, if she let her grades start dropping, she would find her scholarship terminated, and her visit to the United States would be cut off immediately. Yumi stared down at the page before her, not really seeing the words as she weighed the pros and cons of her actions. Another round of enthusiastic clapping came from the dining room. Excitement and curiosity won over all thoughts of study. Yumi slammed the English book shut and slid off the stool she'd been sitting on. Her grades were high enough in English anyway, and there would be plenty of time to study in the morning before class. Tonight she'd allow herself to have a little fun.



Yumi didn't let her presence be known right away. She wanted to judge her opponents before she played against them. Creeping quietly to the doorway, she leaned against the frame of the door, her hazel eyes flitting between the players. A twinge of disappointment overcame her. Most of the men, Mr. Gillespie included, were too drunk to really play their hands effectively. Their actions were sloppy, and whenever they got a decent hand it wasn't too difficult to tell by the look of joy on their faces. But there was one of them who'd been smart enough to pace his intake of beer to give him an edge. He was the youngest of the men seated at the table, closer to Yumi's nineteen years than the thirty or forty years of his companions.



He looked to be about mid-twenties, possibly younger, if Yumi was guessing right. The U.S.A. sure grew some good-looking guys, Yumi thought with a private chuckle. He was tall and well muscled, the kind of build you see on rookie football players or amateur weight lifters. She didn't realize she'd been gaping at his curly blonde hair and boy-next-door looks until he turned and winked at her, letting Yumi know she'd been caught peeping. His sly look didn't go unnoticed by the four other poker players. All of the heads swiveled her way, the room suddenly bathed in quiet as they took in the sight of her. Mr. Gillespie smiled drunkenly at her. "Is there something you wanted, Yumi?" He slurred, and her cheeks flared scarlet with embarrassment at being caught gawking. She stammered the first reply that came to her mind. "I, uh, I came to see if anybody needed a soda or something," she squeaked.



"Aren't you a sweetheart?" Mr. Gillespie beamed. "No thanks, honey. The football game is about to start, and we're going to stop giving this man all our money and go watch. Want to come?"



"Uh, not really," Yumi admitted. "I'd better get back to studying and all."



"That's right," Mr. Gillespie acknowledged. "Well, you study hard then, Yumi. I'll keep the guys out of your hair." He rose from the table and the others prepared to follow suit, ready to abandon the poker game in favor of the big screen TV resting in the den. Sighing in disappointment, Yumi made a graceful retreat back to the confines of the kitchen. She opened her book again and tried to focus on the text swimming before her eyes. It certainly wasn't working for her, trying to study like this. She'd skimmed over only a few paragraphs when the football game began. The cheering started again, this time a little fainter due to the fact that the den was a few rooms away. Yumi groaned as she had to read, then re-read the sentences before her. This was going to go on for another two hours at least. It was going to be a long night ahead.



"Studying hard?" The deep voice made her jump an inch off the stool she was sitting on. Yumi glanced up to see the blonde-haired man standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was leaning on the frame the exact same way she'd been doing when she watched him play poker, a half-grin tilting up the corners of his full lips. Glancing down at his hands, she saw he carried the deck of cards from the dining room. Yumi glanced up uncertainly at his smirking face, unsure why he chose to wander into the kitchen. Clearing her throat, she jerked a thumb in the direction of the refrigerator. "Soda's in there if you want one," she announced.



"I didn't come for a soda." He came over, plopping on the stool across from her, on the other side of the small table. "I saw you watching earlier. I thought you might want to play a game of poker while everyone else is busy with the football game." The man placed the deck of cards on the table between them. He made the offer sound personal, a private secret to share between the two of them. Yumi felt the beginnings of a tingle of excitement flutter in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the stack of wax playing cards. Then she remembered the huge pile of coins and bills the man had won off her father and his friends, and felt her heart sink in her chest. "I don't have any money," she confessed sadly, and turned her attention back to her English book. Yumi gasped, totally surprised, when the man reached over and flipped the cover of her study book closed. "That's okay," he said with an easy grin. "We can wager for other things."



"Like what?" Yumi's curiosity was piqued. In Japan, they'd only played for fun or for money. What would this American suggest they play for? Maybe food? She'd seen a funny sitcom once where the bets were made in pretzels and potato chips.



"Clothes," the man said, grinning at her even wider. "We can play Strip Poker." Yumi's mouth opened, then shut quickly, shocked beyond words. This man wanted to wager his clothes against hers in a poker game? He wanted her to take off her clothes here in the kitchen, with her exchange "father" three rooms over? The offer was both repulsing and exciting to Yumi. Despite the shock of the situation, it did make a little shiver of pleasure run through her body, making her squirm in her seat. Never had she imagined doing something so naughty! She glanced over at him, this time her eyes snaking curiously over his body. What would he look like without those faded jeans, or that silky-looking jersey? Yumi debated in silence, pondering over the desire to play and make him strip and the humiliation she'd suffer if she had to be the one to take off her clothes.



The man took her silence as a "no", or he wanted her to think that he did. Gathering up the cards, he gave her another carefree grin and sauntered towards the kitchen door. "Enjoy your studying," he tossed back at her. "I'm going to go watch the game."





"Wait," She barked, a little too eagerly. Her face flushed red again as he turned around, eyebrows arched in mock surprise. The chances of her winning were high. Yumi felt she had considerable skill in poker, and besides, she'd seen the three empty beer cans on his side of the table. Even with his skill, his senses had to be dulled somewhat, and she could easily overtake him. It would be so easy to seal the deal, and so it was time to up the stakes a bit. Giving him a coy look, Yumi waved him back over. "What do I get, if I win totally, besides seeing you in our kitchen naked?" The question tickled him the right way, obviously, for he let out a bark of laughter and sauntered over to the table. Setting down the cards on the table and fished in his pocket. Drawing out two twenty-dollar bills, he laid them on the table. "Forty dollars, cash money," he offered. She grinned, staring down at the money. Forty dollars would buy her a much-needed new outfit at the local mall, money she usually couldn't afford to spend on anything else but school. It was more than a tempting offer. "Deal," she chirped, kicking the stool across from her back out from under the table for him to sit on.



"Don't agree yet," The man said with his lopsided grin. "You haven't heard what I want if I win, besides seeing you in your kitchen naked." Yumi stared up into his blue eyes as he leaned closer to her, bringing his face towards her own as if to whisper a conspiratorial secret. His mouth hovered inches over hers when he finally spoke. "If I win," he purred, his whisper a hot rush of breath against her lower lip, "I get to take you out to the garage there, and fuck your pretty little Japanese brains out, in any way I want to." She thought he didn't have the power to shock her anymore than he already had, but his declaration of the stakes made an involuntary tremble run through her body. She felt hot all over, like she was flushed with fever. It was a high gamble to chance. Yumi wasn't a virgin, having given her innocence to one of her boyfriends back home before coming to the States, but she certainly wasn't an experienced woman either.



He was attractive, but to give her body as a bet? That, coupled with the thought that Mr. Gillespie might walk out at any time and catch them made it an almost impossible bargain to take. But there was the forty dollars, and the football game was likely to keep Mr. Gillespie occupied because she was certain he had more cash riding on the outcome. And the fact that she could smell the beer on the man's breath made her confident of the outcome of the games to come. "Do we have a deal?" He coaxed, intimidating her to make her choice by drawing his tongue over his upper lip in a slow, sexy motion. "Deal," she croaked, trying not to blush as she stared directly into his hungry eyes. Chuckling with admiration, the man plopped down across from her and pushed the cards across the table to her. "The first deal is all yours, Princess," he sighed, and settled himself across from her for round one of their wager.



The first deal she made simple. "Five card draw," Yumi announced as she dealt out from the freshly shuffled deck. "Deuces, One-Eyed Jacks are wild." As they picked up the facedown cards from the table, Yumi suddenly realized it was going to be a little harder than she anticipated winning this deal after all. The man was hell-bent on distracting her from the goal at hand by any means possible. She schooled her face to be an unreadable mask, but inside she was bursting with joy when she saw not only did she have a pair of twos, but also a pair of Jacks. It looked like a promising hand, until she glanced up and saw his face. He was staring over the top of the cards with the same expression a lion has when it stalks its prey, his blue eyes boring into hers like he was trying to extract the secrets of her soul. She flushed and instead slapped her spare card down on the table, drawing another from the deck. He slid three cards over to her, and she dealt him three to replace it.



"Lay down," she ordered, and they did so. Her spirits soared when she saw that the first bout went to her.



"Lady luck," The man murmured, tossing his hand to the table. Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of his jersey, pulling it up and over his head and tossing it down to the floor. The fact that she was going to watch him strip was an added perk of the deal. Yumi's eyes followed every inch of the fabric sliding up, exposing more and more flesh to her eyes. What a wonderful body he had! She'd never seen its like. His tanned flesh was a cut perfection to her eyes, his stomach bearing the "six-pack" ripple of muscles, his chest a tight swell of toned flesh. She felt a rush of excitement, triumph, and lust gush in a wave over her body. The man's arms were defined even when he didn't flex, like the arms of a comic character. Noticing her watching, he grinned and flexed them for her, really making the muscles stand out in bold relief. Yumi drew in a ragged and quick breath, and her loins suddenly felt very tight and hot, a sure sign that there was dampness soon to follow. She squeezed her thighs together and felt a pang of pleasure zip through her, making her squirm in her seat. But then the man gathered up the cards, and proceeded to shuffle them. First round went to her, but it was time to get back down to business again. She still had forty dollars to win.



The second deal was just as lenient. "Seven card draw," he announced as he shot the cards over to her. "Aces, deuces wild." As she went to scoop the cards off the table, a cheer erupted from the den again, and Yumi jumped nervously. It reminded her that she needed to get this game over fast, lest her exchange guardian find her doing such naughty things. Her reaction was not lost on her opponent, who laughed low in his through. "A little jumpy, there, baby?" He taunted. "Afraid he might come in and see your naked ass sitting here?" She glared at him, but the fear rested like a coiled snake in her stomach as she picked up the cards. Again she was blessed with a decent hand. A pair of tens and a pair of fours stared back at her. She kept the rest of the cards for good measure, carefully studying his reactions as he discarded, then drew. Again she claimed victory, but the reward this time was not quite so grand. The man stood up and carefully peeled off his socks, one after the other, exposing his feet. That left him with his jeans, and whatever lay beneath.



Yumi breathed a little easier, since she was still sitting in her blouse, skirt, bra and panties. Only two more wins, and the money was as good as hers. Sudden footsteps sounded from the depths of the house. In one fluent motion, the man grabbed his jersey and his socks, slipping through the garage door. He barely made it out and shut the door behind him before Mr. Gillespie strode into the kitchen. "What's this?" Mr. Gillespie asked, pointing at the cards before her. Yumi's heart leapt into her throat, but she looked up with her calmest poker face and said, "I couldn't study, so I decided to play some Solitaire." Her guardian bought the lie, and he grinned. "That's good, sweetie," he boomed. "I won't bother you long. Just came to get more beer. Say, have you seen Max? He must've left the room while we were watching the game, because no one knows where he is." Max, Yumi thought to herself. That must be her opponent's name. "I think he said something about going down to the liquor store, Mr. Gillespie," Yumi lied, covering for him. "I think he wanted something else besides beer."



"That sounds like Max," Mr. Gillespie grinned. "Always so picky." He fished the beer from the bottom of the fridge. The game must have resumed, for the men started up a chorus of calling her guardian's name. Mr. Gillespie dropped a fatherly kiss on Yumi's forehead, then stumbled out of the room, heading back for the den. After a moment's hesitation, the garage door opened and Max came back in. "Whew, good job there, Yumi," he said with a chuckle. "Close one, eh?"



"At least I know your name now," she said sarcastically. Yumi couldn't see how this American could still be so happy, not after they had almost got busted. Her heart felt as though she might go into cardiac arrest, and her limbs trembled violently now that Mr. Gillespie was out of the room.



"True, so there is a good side." Max plopped down in the chair and pushed the cards over to her. "Your deal again." Keeping in mind her goal, Yumi fought to get control over her emotions and shuffled the cards.



It couldn't be. Yumi stared down at the results in shock. The third hand, a little harder one to win to be sure, but one she still should have beaten him in....and she'd lost. Her eyes flicked from the cards to his face. Max was staring at her, not laughing at her. His eyes were an intense blue fire against his tanned face. "What'll it be, Princess?" He asked her.



"The blouse? The skirt?" His eyes looked pointedly down at her lap across the table. "Maybe a pair of panties?" Yumi hesitated a moment before pushing off of the stool to fork over her price. Her knees shaking with nervousness, fear, and a little excitement, Yumi reached in back of her and unzipped the pleated navy skirt she was wearing. The room suddenly felt about ten degrees hotter, or maybe her body was just burning from embarrassment. Once the metal teeth were all separated, it was an easy task to slip it down over her legs. She looked up and found Max's eyes riveted on the plain cotton bikinis she wore beneath, and the long expanse of tanned leg she'd just exposed. There was a raw look in his eyes, a heat that echoed the explosion of a blush that went over her whole body.



"Nice," he acknowledged with a sexy little grin.



"I think you'll look very nice naked." His words goaded her back into the task at hand.



"Don't get too accustomed to it," Yumi said with a glare, folding her skirt and putting it neatly on the table. "It's the only thing you're going to see." He chuckled at her wit and glanced from her to the cards. "You going to sit down any time today, Yumi? We have a game to finish."



Luck left her, for she lost again the next round. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, fearing that he rigged the deal to make her lose a second time. They were even now, and he was looking up at her expectantly, waiting for her to lose her second piece of clothing. Growling low in her throat, she fixed her eyes on the floor as she unbuttoned the mother-of-pearl buttons on her blouse. She slipped free of the soft white cloth, feeling very vulnerable in just her simple white bra and her panties. Losing to Max was starting to be a double-edged sword. On one hand, she feared losing to him, because of the stakes that were at hand. She wasn't about to give up her body to just anyone. On the other hand, her own body was starting to burn with a fire that had nothing to do with embarrassment or shame.



Each time she lost a piece of her clothing, Max spent long moments looking at her. With each piece gone, his eyes got hotter and hotter. She knew some American men had a thing for Asian women. But the way Max looked at her body made her feel like some sex goddess. She could almost feel him stripping away the two remaining fabrics on her body, and the odd thing was that she almost wanted him to. Staring at her clad in just her underclothes, he met her eyes squarely and reached beneath the table. Her eyes trailed down, following his palm. He cupped his erection with it, situating the half-inflated staff to a more comfortable location. Yumi should have been shocked. Instead, she felt a flood of wetness fill her sex, slowly seeping out to dampen the crotch of her underwear. Beneath the soft cotton cups of her bra, her nipples were slowly coming to life, aching in time to the throbbing of her hidden folds. She didn't know whether they were becoming puckered because of the air conditioning of the kitchen or the lazy need that was spreading through her body. Sitting back down on her stool, Yumi looked directly at Max. This time, emboldened by the feelings racing through her, she reached over and yanked the cards from his hand.



The empowerment of her lust brought back a little bit of her concentration to her game. There were occasional shouts still from the den, but the thought of interruption no longer feared her. The game was all that mattered now, the goal so close now that they were on the same level. She triumphed again with a three-of-a-kind to his one pair, and got the satisfaction of watching him strip off his jeans. Max was incredible. He watched her face take him in, watching the admiration spread across her features as the metal buttons of his fly came open one by one under his fingers. He pushed the denim to his ankles, stepping out of them one foot after another and dropping the pants on top of the pile of already discarded clothing.

