WILD THANGZ by Winston Chapman (An Essence Magazine National Best Seller)

Chapter 9

When we returned to Simeon's and Jamal's condo, we watched movies on HBO, drank some daiquiris and played Spades.

The uncomfortable moment at the club had not been erased, but no one made it a subject and after a few daiquiris there was little, if any residue left.

After we lost several games, due mostly to Brea's overbidding, she blurted out an idea.

"I don't like this game. Besides, I play much better when there's something at stake!" she challenged.

"Tell me anything. We'll beat you at any game. You name the game," Jamal said, up for the challenge.

"Let's play 21," Brea suggested.

"Girl, please. I play in Las Vegas, twice a year, you better pick a different game if you want any chance of winning," Jamal aggressively warned.

"I'on't care about no Vegas. The game is 21. Strip-21," Brea said, waiting to see if he'd chicken out.

I was trippin' that she'd suggested that, but nothing was ever a total shock from Brea.

I looked at Simeon who didn't seem to be too bothered, but didn't wanna give away to me, whether or not he was a clear supporter of the suggested game. His face was expressionless as he glanced at me.

I was a little uncomfortable at the possibility of Brea and I losing, but also stimulatingly intrigued at the sensual idea.

Realistically, I think Simeon and I were both sort-of down for playing the game but didn't know what each other would think if we were obvious about it.

Before I could make a comment, the first hand was already being dealt by Jamal. Because only two hands were dealt, it was clear that we were playing as teams.

Jamal had a 4 showing and the other card was face-down, so we couldn't see it because he was the dealer on this hand.

Brea and I had a Jack and a 6, for a total of 16.

"Hit me!" Brea said, without consulting with me first.

As Jamal turned over our hit-card, which was an 8 that caused us to be busted, I smacked Brea on the arm.

"Wait for me on the next hand!" I yelled at Brea.

"Jaz, we had 16, you never hold at 16!" she tried to defend her play.

We were playing for clothes, so I wanted to at least think about it first and didn't appreciate her controlling what play we'd make on her own.

"Brea, maybe I wanted to stay at sixteen and see if they'd be busted. You never know!" I scolded further.

"Whatevah," Brea spewed.

The argument was point-less because it didn't change the fact that we'd lost the first hand and had to strip.

"Yee-aaahhh," Jamal said rubbing his hands together like an evil scientist in anticipation of the removal of our first garment.

I was glad that I had on a bra, as I took off my top. Brea didn't have one on, but didn't seem to care about her bare breast exposure, even in the presence of Simeon as she without hesitation quickly pulled her top over her head and was anxious to even the score.

I also saw Jamal not so subtly checking me out too, as his face showed disappointment that I wasn't bare-breasted like Brea, who he'd already seen naked in Jamaica.

Simeon actually seemed more uncomfortable than Brea as he tried to play-it-off by not allowing his eyes to be drawn to where I know they wanted to go, Brea's big-ass-titties. He stared at me, Jamal and the cards, but I could tell from my peripheral vision that when I looked down at the new hand that Brea dealt, his eyes seized the opportunity to glare at her breasts.