One of those nights that got out of hand, I guess. An raucous, boozey card game in the hotel bar had carried on in my room. Now, with the vodka running out, the girls had pushed off to bed. A half hearted game of strip poker meant that I had three men left in my room. Pissed, and in varying stages of undress. One of them was an older guy - perhaps 70 I guessed - who had somehow joined in the fun. Now he was driving the game to a conclusion. "Right, my lads. We need a big final couple of hands to finish this off. " His eyes twinkled as he looked at me, and I could see his nipples were standing proud under his open shirt. He had no buttons left to open. His gaze went down to my boxer shorts, which was all I had left on. "How about pontoon?" said Steve, a sales guy we'd only just got to know. He just had a couple of buttons undone. "Nah. I'm off to bed" said my colleague Phil, popping his shirt on before heading for the door. "Sure?" asked Steve. He looked at his watch. "You're probably right. I'll turn in too" I was just left with my older guest, who responded to the exit of the others by dealing me more cards. I poured another drink and figured I'd get to bed sooner or later. "So - the old game of 21. Bit of tension, bit of judgement. Big question is - what does the winner get?" Those eyes looked at me again, then travelled down my chest to my stomach. Below the level of the table, my cock twitched. What indeed? He turned over his two cards. Two nines. "I'm feeling lucky" he murmured, and took another card. It was a five. "Bust" he said, winking at me, and stood up to peel off his shirt. He obviously worked out, and his chest was tanned. Grey chest hairs, and the faint whiff of some body spray. But all that was secondary. As he stood up, his crotch was directly in my eye line, and I could see the clear outline of a thick cock pressing up against his trouser material. More cards. This time I had two face cards. 20. "I think I'll stick. Maybe your luck will help you out here." He turned over a five and a two. Another card - a four. Then, with a flourish, a nine. "Still no good. You win unless I pull an ace" Slowly, without taking his eyes off me, he turned over another card. A king. He tugged his trousers off, giving me another eyeful of that meaty cock, beautifully framed by his impressively tight thighs and that toned chest. I found myself wondering if his pubes were grey. My own cock was now rock solid. "So - both at last item of clothing. Think we need to decide what the winner gets." He paused, and took another mouthful of vodka. "I think the loser gets his ass fucked". I could hardly believe I had said it. But I had. "Good call. You deal the cards." I turned my cards over. A jack and a king. 20. We looked at each other across the table for a few seconds. You could almost hear the blood pumping in the veins in my cock. My guest shrugged, and reached for his cards. Just as he was about to do so, I quickly turned over another card - a five - and threw it onto the table. He smiled, knowing what I was after. He pulled his boxers down, and his cock swung free. A thick, heavily veined one, with a shining purple head. "OK, lad. Looks as though it's time for me to take my winnings" I tugged my own boxers down, and calmly walked over to the bathroom, returning with some Vaseline. Scooping a handful of the jelly, I wiping ome over his pulsing cock head. "Good lad. Now lube up that hole of yours and bend over that table. You're going to get the fucking of your lifetime" And, you know, I did...