********************
FanFic
The Richard Dawson Experience
Last UpDated: 27 September 2001.
Site Copyright © 2000-2001. Lisa Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Story Copyright © 2001. Rhonda "StuntChick36" Inc., All Rights Reserved.
STRIP POKER: A WILD PAIR
One of the most important rules here in Hollywood is that everyone must hold at least one cocktail party a month. Growing up in rural West Virginia, I never saw a cocktail party except for in the movies.
My cousin Les got me a job as a script girl at NBC. He and I were always close as little kids and it was nice to see that he still looked out for me. His lifelong ambition was to be a comedy writer one of those television variety shows. Somehow, Les convinced them that a poor boy from the Blue Ridge Mountains could write funny stuff. To make a long and boring story short, he was hired and took me out to Los Angeles with him.
I wasn't too crazy about moving so far from home, but as soon as I got here, any homesickness left in my gut had vanished. Hollywood is so busy!
Les introduced me to a bunch of swell people that he worked with and we all became really good friends. People like Dick Van Dyke and his brother Jerry, Danny Thomas, Frankie Avalon and Sally Field were over at Les's place all the time. Then one day there was a new face in the crowd. I'll never forget the introduction.
"Dick," said Les, putting an arm around me, "I'd like you to meet my cousin, Leigh. Honey, this is Richard Dawson, the English comedian I was telling you about."
And I fell in love with him the moment he first smiled at me. Breezy smile, brown textured hair, and the most fantastic gray-green eyes God ever put on this earth. Cute as a button! Not to mention that he's funnier than a sober politician.
Dickie and I became good friends and we saw each other often. Neither one of us wanted to say we were dating, but basically that's what we were doing. Not exclusive, but just about. Sometimes we'd meet at a little cafe in Beverly Hills or go to a place with a bit more swing like the Ciro's. Our friendship had become quite strong and we felt completely safe and comfortable with one another. I always told him that I loved him like a brother, but inside I loved him deeply, almost to the point of going out of my head.
I watched over the next few years how Richard, now going by his full first name, had transformed himself into a wanted actor from a struggling comic. It was a magnificent change. I remember when he got a part in the film "King Rat," I was one of the first people he called with the good news. I was so proud of him!
A couple years had passed and Richard was now going to work steadily on television. He was all set to co-star on a show about Allied POW's in a German prison camp that work for the Underground. Naturally, he's going to play the British airman. The only thing I don't like about the character is that the producers are going to make him cut his hair and push it forward, making him look like one of the Beatles. I love his hair the way it is; swept back, curling just a little around the back of his ears. He said he's going to let his sideburns grow longer, too, just to make me mad. Isn't he awful?
One night, Les suggested to me that we should throw a cocktail party just for kicks. I didn't really want to, but gave in and agreed to have this affair at my place.
Around 6:30 pm the following Friday, all the guests started to arrive. Dick and Jerry Van Dyke were there, so was Red Buttons, Sandra Dee, Elke Summer, Mel Brooks, Sid Caesar, Mamie Van Doren, and whole slue of other important people. And of course Richard was there, entertaining anyone who wasn't engrossed in conversation.
Unfortunately, I couldn't sit and talk to him as much as I wanted to that night. As the hostess, I was running constantly. But once in a while, Richard would come into the kitchen and just stand there with me as I made someone a drink. If anyone else came into the kitchen and stopped to talk to me, he'd put his arm around my shoulder. I'll never forget when Carl Reiner came in to fix himself a drink, and he saw Richard leaning up against the counter next to me sipping from a bottle of Coke, he asked "Are you two an item or something? Because the two of you look cute together."
I said, "Me and Dickie? No. He's just keeping me company."
After Carl left the room, Richard turned to me and said, "Why did you say that?"
"Say what?" I asked.
"Say that we weren't seeing each other. I mean, we are in a way."
I smiled and said, "I don't want to be the subject of Hollywood gossip." He took a swallow from his pop bottle and licked his lips.
"Well, I wouldn't mind givin' them something to talk about." Then he flicked his tongue over the mouth of the bottle, making a warm wave shoot from the top of my head down to my ankles.
"You're so disgusting," I laughed. Then I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "That's why you're unique." I picked up the drinks and left for the living room.
3:00 am. Finally, the party was over. Carl and Mel were the last two to leave, doing their "2,000 Year Old Man" routine all they way out the door. Les had left an hour ago, dropping off some of the lady guests on his way home. Richard was sitting in a chair over by the window; tie undone, top button of his shirt open, sipping another bottle of soda pop.
"You look bushed," I said. "Why don't you head for home?"
"Nah, I'm fine," he said, rubbing the side of his face. "I thought I'd stay and help you clean up a bit. Shouldn't have to do it by yourself."
"Aw, you're so sweet," I said. And it's true, he really is a sweet guy. He stood up and took off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. As he bent over to pick up some empty glasses, I had this strange compulsion to look at his rear end. I normally don't do that, but I couldn't help it. I followed him into the kitchen with my hands full of dishes.
Believe it or not, in about 10 minutes we had most of the house cleaned up. Now we went into the den.
"You know, you were so busy tonight I didn't even get a chance to dance with you," he said. He walked over to the stereo and put on some soft music. He held one hand out to me and said very sweetly, "May I have this dance?"
I set down a couple of plates and walked slowly over to him. "Sure." I took his hand and he smiled. As I stepped closer to him, I felt his hand wrap around my waist and pull me close to him. I put one hand around his shoulder and held his hand in the other. He brought our hands close to his chest, holding mine palm down over his heart. Our faces were very close, cheek to cheek in fact. His skin was smooth and perfect, not a razor nick on him. I could smell the warm aftershave lotion coming up from his collar, making me tilt my face down towards his neck. His face tenderly touched my neck. I could feel his hand on my waist slide further around me, pulling me even closer to him. I've been dying for him to do that to me since we met.
We danced for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, he let go of my hand to put his other hand around me, my empty claw joining the other around his shoulders. At one point, I thought he fell asleep on my shoulder, but he was just very relaxed.
Finally when the record player stopped, he gently lifted his head off my shoulder and looked at me, smiling ever so slightly. His eyes looked drowsy and very tired.
"Thank you," he said in a voice slightly audible.
"You're welcome," I said sleepily. We both let one another go, even thought we had gotten very comfortable where we were. I backed away from him and started to put the poker table away.
"It's funny," I said, "I didn't see one woman playing poker tonight. Didn't you find that awkward?"
"Well, I don't know if a lot of women play poker," he said matter of factly. "I guess it's mostly a man's game."
"I used to play poker all the time when I was younger."
He closed one eye and squinted the other and looked at me skeptically. "No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did. My grandfather taught me. I used to sit on his lap when he'd play with my uncles."
A sneaky smile appeared on his face. "Really?" He stopped putting away the cards and sat down at the card table. "How about you and me play a few hands? Show me whatcha got?"
"Ok." I set the glasses down and parked myself across the table from him.
"Oh, uh... and let's up the stakes a little bit. We won't play for money, we'll play for clothes."
"Clothes?" I asked. "You don't mean-"
He didn't say a word, just shook his head 'yes' very slowly. He continued to shuffle the deck as I looked at him. "Ok," I said. "Just hope you know what you're getting yourself into."
"No, but I know what I'll be gettin' myself out of if I lose."
"Boy, I hope you're in good health 'cause I'm going to give you a cold quicker than a runny nose little kid."
He looked at me like one of those poker players in the westerns on television. "Five card stud, deuces wild," he said as he dealt the cards.
I picked up my hand. A King, an 8, a 9, a Jack and a 4. I took the 4, set it down and motioned for another card. I got another King. A pair... I think I'll try to hold here.
"Want another?" he asked.
"Nope. I'll stand." He seemed a little surprised. He dumped two of his cards and took two more, laying his hand down.
"Three aces."
Uh oh. I laid down my hand. "A pair." Richard started to chuckle.
"Ok, let's see. What do I want you to take off first..."
"You don't pick what comes off."
"Yes I do. Dealer's choice."
"You didn't call that in the beginning."
He grinned and said in a very bad Southern accent, "Stop whinin' and take off yer sheews."
Now he's being a tease. I set both feet up on the table and kicked off my shoes as he shuffled and dealt the next hand. Hopefully it'll be my turn to have him take something off. I picked up my hand; a 2, a 10, a Jack, a 3 and a 5... all red. Yes! A flush is pretty hard to beat, so I won't dump any cards. I sit in satisfied quiet, smiling like a fool.
"Why do I get the feelin' I'm in trouble?" he asks. He sets down three cards and takes three new ones. Then he hangs his head.
"Should I just show you my hand now?" I ask.
"Go ahead."
We set our hands down and I quickly say, "Ok, Richard. Off with the tie."
He puts his hand over his eyes and whimpers, "Oh no." I looked him dead in the eyes as he loosened it. Then he bit his bottom lip, took an end in each hand and pulled it back and forth before pulling it off all together. As he pulled it off, he whipped it in my direction and I put my arm up to block it. The tie wrapped around my arm and I grabbed a hold of it. We started to play 'tug of war' until he stood up and pulled harder. I stood, too, and let him pull me forward. Both of us were taking up the slack and inching a little closer. All of the sudden he leans forward and kisses me quickly on the lips.
"Now that was sexy," I said.
After a few more hands he lost his shoes, socks, and shirt, and I lost my shirt and camisole. I could read his face like a book; he was getting a little more aroused. I won the next hand. Now I was going to have some fun with him. I wanted to see him without anything on, except for a smile.
"Ok, you. Take your undershirt off. But don't just rip it off. I want you to take it off slowly." He looked a little unsure of himself, so I got up and walked over to his side of the table. I sat on the table in front of him and motioned for him to stand up.
"Come on. Off with it," I prodded.
He rolled his eyes and took his shirt at the bottom and just as he was going to lift it up, he stopped. He stood there and looked at me for a minute. Something was eating at him from the inside.
"What's wrong?" I asked gently.
"Leigh, there's something I have to tell you."
"What. You're not wearing any underwear?"
He laughed a little. "No, that's not it. I want you to know... that... I've become very fond of you. And I feel... a little funny playin' around with you like this. Straight poker, fine. But, you know..."
Wow. He likes me? I took his hands and pulled him a little closer to me, so he was standing between my knees. "Richard, let me be honest with you. I've enjoyed every minute that you and I have spent together since we met a few years ago. And tonight, when we danced close together, my heart almost stopped when you put your arms around me. I'd been praying for that moment to come for a long time."
I watched his face as I told him this. The gray clouds of doubt in his eyes dissipated and a small smirk formed on his mouth. "So, what are you sayin'?" he asks, his English lilt almost melting my ears.
"I think I'm in love with you... no, I know I'm in love with you."
A genuinely happy smile swept across his face. "You're in love with me?"
"Yeah." I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his shoulders again. "And I think I'm going to stay in love with you for a long, long time." His hands crept up my back and he walked even closer to me. The space between our mouths was closed quickly as we both leaned in and kissed each other. It wasn't a deep kiss, but rather a soft and gentle kiss. His lips are as soft as the skin on his face.
"Isn't it strange how we've been friends for so long, and yet we both overlooked each other?" he asks. He kissed me again, this time with a little more meaning as he held me. His tongue searched for mine until he found it.
"Richard, does this mean I can call you 'darling'?"
"You can call me anything you'd like, love. Whatever your heart desires."
I was in heaven. Here I was, holding onto a man whom I'd wanted for so long. Yet, something still wasn't right.
"Hey," I said, "you never took off your undershirt."
"Huh?"
"Your undershirt. You lost the last hand and you were supposed to take it off."
His eyes light up as he remembers. "Oh, yeah. You're right." He let go of me and grabbed his shirt from the bottom, just like he did before, and pulled it up and off. Oh, what a sight! All of his muscles were outlined nicely, not to the point that he looked like George Atlus, but terminally sexy just the same. His chest was bare except for a few hairs grouped between his pectorals. He stepped close to me again, putting his forehead on mine and his hands around me.
"Touch me, Leigh," he whispered. "Please."
Any resistance was futile. I wasn't in control anymore, my heart was. I reached up and stroked his face before I let my hands go down to his chest, every muscle dancing under my fingers. His skin was so warm, so flawless, so beautiful. I had to lean in and kiss it. As my mouth marked him, my ears filled with the sound of his deep voice moaning. My tongue snuck out to play with his flesh, too, skimming across his nipples, making him jump and groan.
"You have no idea," he says, "what you're doin' to me right now."
"Am I turning you on?" I asked in between kisses.
"Faster than anyone else." He runs both hands through his hair. "You're not makin' it easy to control myself."
That sounded like an invitation to me. I reached around behind me and unfastened my bra, whipping it across the room. "Don't even try, Richard. You'd never forgive yourself." As soon as the words left my lips, his lips were down on my chest, biting at it and sucking my breasts. His tongue felt amazing, working me and teasing me. He pushed me down gently onto my back, my hands still wanting him. With unbelievable precision, he unbuttoned, unzipped and removed my red Capri pants without even looking at them. Under the circumstances, I was quite impressed.
"What are you going to do with me?" I ask rhetorically.
He smiles and answers, "I'm gonna make you feel real good." Richard's hands unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants seductively. I was just about ready to scream as I watched his hands move. He took a hold of my panties and carefully pulled them off, flinging them behind him and landing on the ceiling fan. Naturally, I started to laugh like a lunatic.
His strong hands pulled my body down to the edge of the table. In one movement, he pushed his shorts and trousers down to his knees, letting his cock swing freely. It looked so beautiful and so... wow. With his clothes on, Richard doesn't look like a man who would be, shall we say, well-endowed. But he is. This man was a novel among short stories.
I rest myself on my elbows, waiting for him to skewer me. Luckily, I didn't have to wait very long. He placed his hands on my hips and in one quick movement, he was inside. I watch his face constrict as he thrusts forward continually.
"I've wanted to love you like this for far too long," he gasps. His hands gripped my hips like he was afraid I would leave him.
"Oh, love me, darling," I panted. "You don't have to wait any longer."
I watch as he bends over me, resting his chest against mine. My mouth grew hungry as his came closer to me. I ran my hands through his dark mane and grabbed two handfuls of hair, pulling him down so I could feed on his lips.
Then all at once my eyes clamped shut and I raised my hips to meet his. The wave of ecstasy was starting.
I could feel myself get tighter around his hot, hard length as I began to drown in a pool of pleasure. He thrusts harder into me until his hips slap against mine, sounding like someone applauding our work.
"Oh, yes, my love!" I shout.
I refused to let go of his head and held him tight to my chest, still clutching his hair. His mouth bit at my throat as I screamed uncontrollably.
Richard's groaning grew more intense with each stroke he made. He made a deep, almost primal moan as his fluids poured into me. After he spent himself, he didn't immediately stop driving me; he continued to stroke me but very, very slowly.
"Oh, Leigh," he says as he catches his breath, "I don't want to stop lovin' you yet. I never want to stop." He kisses me again deeply.
"I'll never stop you. I won't let you." He was still inside me, gently gliding back and forth and never taking his eyes off of me.
"Let me make you scream again," he pleads. As if I'm going to say 'no'?
"Yes, Richard. Make me scream your name all night long."
This did the trick because all at once I could feel his cock get harder and he started to pick up the pace, building and building until he found the rhythm. Now his body was banging against mine with purpose.
"Don't be gentle this time, baby," I said. "Really give it to me."
His green eyes sparkled like emerald-colored glass smoothed by the ocean's current. Gentle, soft, and overflowing with passion. His body feels so good against mine. No longer will I sleep alone in a cold, lonely bed.
"Come on, love," he coaxes, "lemme hear it. Say my name."
"Oh, Richard... Richard..."
He backs off of me and stands upright, still pumping me hard. I looked at his reddened chest and saw the sweat drizzling down him. To watch someone work themselves into a sweat for you is really quite erotic. I couldn't believe that he was screwing me this hard just to satisfy me, and to satisfy himself as well.
Again, my climax blindsided me, sneaking up from out of nowhere and landing hard in my loins.
"Aw, yeah. That's it. Say it, Leigh. Say it, come on!"
I couldn't at first. My mouth was paralyzed open with blinding and deafening pleasure. As I drew in a breath, I released it and yelled, "RICHARD!!" as loud as I could.
"Oh, God!" he moans as he once again spills his hot juices into me. Completely empty, he collapses on top of me. I hold him close and kiss the perspiration from his forehead. Both of us were totally out of breath.
"I'll never look at you the same way again," I said, holding his warm head. He props himself up onto one hand while the other wipes some sweat from my chest.
"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" he asks.
"I'd say it's a good thing. I think I love you more now knowing that you can make me feel like a goddess."
"Poor Venus. She could never hold a candle to you," he says with a smile. He kisses me once and gets off of me.
After we get dressed again, I walk him to the door. "Wait."
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"Stay with me tonight. And every night."
He smiles and puts his hands on my waist. "You really want me to?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it."
He pulls me closer to him. "And uh... where am I going to sleep?"
I hook my hands under and around his shoulders and smile up at him. "In my bed. With me."
"Actually," he says, faking a yawn, "I really shouldn't be drivin' if I'm tired. I guess I could... stay here tonight."
I started to head upstairs, pulling him along with me. "And tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the night after that..."