You win, Miranda loses. It's go time!

Four aces in the deck, and you got three of them. Four suits in the deck, and Miranda got one, with a completely random assortment of numbers. Your face is beaming, and you marvel at your luck.

Miranda marvels too as she scans everyone's cards. You're happy to see that she still doesn't look too uncomfortable. In fact, it looks like she's really enjoying herself. "Let's do it," she says, holding her arms wide open.

"Yeah," you breathe, your voice catching in your throat. "Yeah. Are you ready?"

"Ready?" She leans forward, eyeing you curiously.

"Well, you have a choice. I can take your bra..." You swallow a lump in your throat. "...or your dress."

"That's how it works," she says, feigning confidence with a breathy and uncertain voice. "Except it's your choice, John."

"Oh. Uh, right, how silly of me," you joke, your thoughts racing. She gave you the choice. You're officially absolved from being a gentleman about this. But is she doing it for you, or is she just really into the game? Now, you think, you've been given a chance to find out, if you can get up the confidence to take things in an unorthodox direction. Just one minute ago Matt motorboated Sarah in front of all of you. This is your chance to...do something.

"It's hard to pick," you ad lib. "Maybe you could give me a sample?"

"A sample?" she repeats incredulously.

Not the reaction you were going for. "O-Only if you want to!" You try to ignore Sarah's roaring laughter and Nicole's open-mouthed shock.

"What...kind of sample?"

You blink. "You know. Just, like, a peek. Underneath."

"Your pussy, girl!" Sarah bellows, mortifying everyone around her. She, as usual, doesn't seem to care. "It's going to come out either way."

Miranda doesn't say anything right away. Her face is beet red, but it's been that way since Sarah's tits came out. She hasn't said "no" yet, and no news is good news, but...

"She's got a point," Nicole adds. You stare at your sister in utter disbelief - and you can't believe you missed the part where she apparently switched from horrified to perfectly chill. "It doesn't change anything."

"Yeah..." You can't believe your ears as Miranda nods in agreement. "You're right. So, John, um... C'mere, I guess?"

Holy actual fucking shit, it worked. You scoot forward, and she turns her body ninety degrees away from the others. Her hands gently grip the hem of her green sundress. You lower your head almost to the floor. As your best friend, his girlfriend, and your younger sister look on, Miranda slowly lifts her dress, and you instinctively lean forward as you finally lay eyes on the object of your countless fantasies.

Her pussy isn't quite what you imagined. In your mind, she usually had the tightly closed slit of a pretty little virgin in a hentai movie. The reality is much, much better. Her slit is open, just enough to give you a glimpse at the cave it hides, inviting you to spread it further. Her labia form a frame like parted curtains around her light pink treasure. You can't see her clit, but you can imagine the little nub waiting just out of sight beneath it's covering. Above it all, a little patch of short fuzz has begun to grow, the same brown color as her hair.

She's perfect. As perfect as you'd dreamed and more.

You feel the hem of her dress fall against your neck. The fabric shifts around you as her hands change position, and it takes you a moment to remember why.

"You might have to crawl in a bit further for the second preview," Miranda says, reaching into her dress to take hold of her bra.

A devilish idea crosses your mind. "Yeahhh," you reply, exhaling heavily. The heat of your breath washes over her pussy, and her own breathing hitches slightly. "I'll do that." Your heart beats like a bass drum as you obediently crawl forward, letting your fingers fall on her inner thigh. Your other hand lands higher, with your index finger resting directly on the bottom of her slit. A shudder runs up her body, small but certainly noticeable to your attentive audience. You move your head upward, raising her dress to hide the movements of your arms and to show the others that you haven't forgotten your stated objective of peeping her whole body. Meanwhile, your fingers begin to ease apart her pussy lips, testing the boundaries of your arrangement as far as you can.

Not forgetting her role, Miranda unceremoniously lifts up her bra, sky blue to match her long-forgotten panties. You continue to paw at her slit as you peer upward at her perfect, perfect 36C boobs. They look exactly as you imagined, unblemished and perky and even more tantalizing up close. You can't do anything to them with everyone watching, but you can take a nice, long look while you play with her pussy, teasing a finger along the outside of her vagina. You hesitate to go any further than that, not that you need to just yet. This is way further than you thought you would ever get with Miranda, let alone tonight.

"Doo doo doo doo doo doo," Sarah hums to the tune of Jeopardy.

"Yep, all set." You wipe your index fingers dry on Miranda's dress as you withdraw. She fixes her bra and leaves her hands by her sides, giving you a sly smile. You confidently return the gesture. "Sarah, can I get a drumroll?"

She scoffs and begins rapidly slapping her thighs.

"I choose..." Pause for dramatic effect. "Your dress!"

The drumroll ends and a round of cheers sound off from the contestants. Miranda simply nods. "Let's do it." She shifts her weight off her dress as you take hold of the hem, allowing you to work it up over her ass. You figure you've made everyone wait long enough, so you waste no time lifting it over her hips, her midriff, her covered chest, and finally over her head. She keeps her legs together, but when she shuffles back to face the group, they can all clearly see the top of her slit poking out above her thighs.

Sarah applauds. "Nicely fucking done, you two."

Matt is still trying to play it mostly cool, but even he looks genuinely impressed. "You guys went hard on that," he praises.

"All for the game, right?" Nicole chimes in playfully.

Miranda doesn't reply right away. She actually contemplates the question for a few seconds. Then, with a glance at you, she makes her decision. Your heart flutters as she answers.

"Maybe not all for the game."