The Poker Champ, continued...

I decided to get drunk that evening. It’s universally regarded as dumb to be hungover during the final day of the competition, but I was past giving a shit. All I knew was that I needed to ingest enough alcohol to forget what went on that afternoon.

I went straight to the hotel bar and pulled my chair up to a table. I had always preferred sitting at the bar, but it was too high for me now and all the seats had slot machines in front of them anyway. Slot machines are a waste of money. No skill involved there.

I ordered a double whiskey shot and downed it in one gulp. I used to have enough tolerance that I could do double shots without much of a problem, but I hadn’t been drinking much or at all in the last five years. Getting into a car wreck because you’re too drunk to see straight tends to take the fun out of it.

By the fourth double, I was beginning to feel a little better. When I ordered my fifth, the bartender gave me a look. “You sure about that, mister?”

I gave him a look back. “Yeah, I’m sure. I ordered it, right?”

I was waiting for the drink to arrive when a woman who had been sitting at a table nearby approached me. Actually, she was more like a girl. She was really pretty too—red hair, freckles, nice tits. At that point, I was drunk enough to be stupid enough to think she was coming over because she was interested in talking to me. Instead, she just stood in front of my table and stared at me.

“What?” I finally said.

She grasped her purse close to her, “I am so sorry.”

“About what?” I glanced around to see if she had spilled something.

“About...” she gestured at me. My legs, I guess. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, feeling heat in my cheeks.

“I’m really sorry,” she said again. “It’s terrible.”

I don’t know if it was being drunk or what, but I suddenly felt furious at this girl. What the hell was the point of her coming over to me and telling me she felt bad for me? What a cunt. “It’s okay,” I said again, because I’m a wuss even when I’m drunk.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes even getting a little misty this time.

That was enough. I glared at her. “Look, lady, do you want to fuck me or not?”

She stared back at me. “What?”

“I said, do you want to fuck me?” I repeated. “If you’re so sorry, maybe you could help me out a little, huh?”

It wasn’t the sort of thing I ever would have said while sober. I might have wanted to say it, but I never would have had the nerve. I had absolutely no interest in having sex with her, but I got a kick out of the way her eyes widened in shock. “No, I...” She bit her lip. “I have to... to go meet my friend.”

“Yeah, okay, have fun,” I said. I almost laughed when she stumbled out of the bar as I got my next drink.

The fifth double barely burned as it went down my throat. I was beginning to feel nice and numb all over. I can’t say I even noticed Avi sitting next to me until I felt his hand on my shoulder. I jumped in my chair. “Where’d you come from?”

Avi looked me up and down. It made me nervous. “You’re trashed, Riley,” he noted.

“Yeah I am,” I agreed. “So?”

“Calm down,” Avi said. “You look like you’re close to passing out.”

“Not close enough,” I mumbled. I tried to catch the bartender’s eye and get my sixth double shot.

“Let me help you get back to your room,” Avi said.

“I can manage. Why don’t you go call your wife or something?”

Avi shook his head. “Is that what this is about?”

I sighed. “Look, we had some fun last night, but that’s it. You can’t get caught with me ‘cause you’ll be humiliated forever. I get it, nothing’s changed since five years ago. Except it makes me sick and I’m not doing it anymore. Enough, Avi, okay?”

Just when you think you know a guy... Avi leaned across the table and pressed his lips onto mine. One of his hands laced into my hair, keeping my mouth close to his, and the other went up my shirt. Plastered as I was, I couldn’t believe what Avi was doing. We never kissed in public. Ever.

When he finally pulled away, I realized that a bunch of people in the bar were staring at us. Somebody had to have recognized us.

Avi didn’t seem to give a shit. “We’re going back to your room, Riley,” he said.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, a little breathless.

Avi practically had to push my chair back to my room. My already weak stomach muscles were almost useless with all the whiskey I had drunk, so I kept sliding down in my chair. I can’t even imagine how it must have looked. I held onto my legs, trying to keep them from falling out of place. People were staring at us in the elevator as I struggled to stay in my chair and Avi massaged my shoulders gently.

Usually when Avi and I went out drinking, we both got drunk. But now Avi was completely sober and I was wasted. The truth was, I don’t think there was any way I could have made it back to my room without him helping me. When we got to the door, I started fumbling in my pants pocket for the passcard but I was having trouble. Avi gently pushed my hand away and removed the card from my pocket.

Once we were inside, Avi lifted me into bed. He did it without even asking. He just put one arm under my legs, one behind my back, and lifted me right over. I was impressed that he even left my wheelchair right by the bedside so I could reach it easily later. He stood over the bed, staring down at me. I could tell he wanted me but maybe he thought I was too drunk. “I should probably be on my stomach,” I said.

“You think you’re going to throw up?” he asked, concerned.

“No,” I said, grinning at him. “I just think it would be easier for you to fuck me that way.”

Avi’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure? What the fuck, Avi? Just turn me over and do me already.”

I unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my knees. I was too out of it to turn on my own, so I needed Avi’s help. He didn’t know what he was doing and I could tell my legs were getting a little tangled, but I was too drunk to care. I felt the bed shifting as Avi climbed on top of me. He ran his hands over my shoulders timidly. I waited.

I didn’t feel Avi’s dick going inside me. The first time he fucked me in the ass was one of the more painful things I had ever experienced. He hadn’t wanted to do it but I had begged him. I had wanted it. As much as it had hurt, it was a good kind of pain, and I had one of my biggest orgasms to date. After it was over, I still sort of felt like Avi was inside me for hours after.

These days I’ve become intimately comfortable with my ass. I have a scheduled bowel movement every two days and I need to digitally stimulate my rectum to bring it on. It’s not something I’m proud of and I didn’t want Avi to know about it. It occurred to me as he was sliding inside me that this sort of stimulation might bring on a bowel movement and I had no control to stop it. All I could do was hope that it didn’t happen.

My body shook as Avi pumped against me. I could hear him grunting and moaning. “Can you feel it, Riley?” he asked, between gasps.

“No,” I admitted. “But I like it. Keep going.”

He kept going. A few times I almost thought I could feel it, but it might have just been my imagination. He came with surprising intensity, then quickly pulled out and rolled off me.

Still on my stomach, I rolled my head over to face him. He was smiling at me. “I love you, Riley,” he said.

I stared at him, not knowing what to say. I couldn’t believe he said that. Neither of us had ever made a statement like that before. It was about sex, it was about friendship, it was about poker, but that was it.

“I just wanted you to know that,” he added.

I stared at him in disbelief for another good ten minutes before I passed out.

To be continued...