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Always Bet On Black

By: Spassmacher5000



I was always so proud of my girlfriend. I guess that's what started this whole mess. I just couldn't stop showing photos of her to my friends, and taping them in my locker at work. She's just so hot, I had to brag. I should have just kept her to myself.

Then one day this cocky black guy at work, Darnell, he walked by while I was at my locker.

"Damn," he said, "You weren't kidding. That's one hot little piece of ass you got there."

"Um... thanks." I said in shock, trying not to get angry.

"But you know I could steal that away, right? Man, just one hour with her, and she'd be sucking me off."

I lost it. "Hey, that's it! Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

Darnell only smiled at me, even chuckling a little. "Chill man, chill. I'm just saying, you think she's your girl, but how can you trust her? Let me do you a favor. I'll test her out for you, see if she cheats. If she turns me down, you know you got her all to yourself."

He explained it in a way that almost sounded like a good idea. Almost. "I, uh, I think I'll pass."

Darnell could see I was considering it, and pushed on. "Okay, then how about a bet? If she won't cheat, I'll give you... five hundred bucks, AND you'll know she's faithful. Sound good?"

I was so sure she was mine. I was so confident. "You know what? You're on."

Darnell just smiled. "I'll even go easy on you. She sucks me off, you'll only owe me one hundred." I was a bit shocked he still wanted to be paid cash even if he won my girlfriend.

We set it up so that I would tell her the three of us were going out to dinner after work, and then I wouldn't show. He had just one hour to close the deal.

Tina must have looked so good. Her blond hair down her back, she told me she would wear her pink tank top with her denim miniskirt. She had these sexy little pumps that made her a couple inches taller than her usual 5'3". She was so cute and sexy.

I sat at home, too nervous to think straight. All I could do was watch the clock. Minutes passed and I watched my phone. She called a couple times right away, probably asking where I was, but the phone went silent... and stayed silent.

Finally the hour passed, and I kept waiting for my beautiful girlfriend to walk through the door, angry at me for not showing and telling me how obnoxious my coworker is. But she didn't. Then another hour passed, and this time I called her, and now her phone was the one not answered. I called again and again, and hours passed.

The worrying grew exhausting. Finally, I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning and turned to my girlfriend's side of the bed, all I found there was a note written in glittery pink gel from one of her cute pens. My heart began pounding, and I read the note.

"Tom, sweetie, I saw you asleep and I just couldn't wake you. I can't face you after what I've done."

Oh, god.

"I showed up when you said, and Darnell was there in his big black SUV, but I couldn't see you. Where were you, anyway? You left me alone with him!

"So I got into the passenger seat of his SUV, but he said we should wait a little while for you to show up. Baby, he was looking all up and down my body like a total perv, making me squirm in my seat.

"Then he started saying all these smooth things, complimenting my body, and I thanked him nervously, looking around desperately for the moment you would show up.

"But you didn't show up, and he just kept going. He was just so smooth, baby, and his compliments were getting nastier. At first he was talking about my face and hair, then my clothes, but now he was talking about my boobs and staring straight at them! I was getting really uncomfortable.

"I was trying to tell him I should go, but he kept saying you would be there any second, and I kept waiting a little longer while he looked me over and talked about my body while I looked out the window, nervously.

"Then he said something about how good my ass looked when I was walking across the parking lot, and I finally turned towards him to shut him up, but I froze when I saw his hand in his lap, squeezing and rubbing the crotch of his baggy jeans.

"I was just so shocked, I mean, I know black guys do that, but it was right on front of me! He chuckled when he saw me looking, and then he got really nasty, asking me if I wanted to see his thing, and if I wanted to suck on it.

"I really wanted to get out of there, but I just couldn't think of what to say, and he just kept rubbing and squeezing himself while talking to me in that low, deep voice, and suddenly I noticed a huge lump under his jeans, running half way down his thigh! When I realized what it was, I must have given out a little whimper, and he unzipped.

"I was frozen in my seat while he reached inside his jeans, pulling and straining, and finally, he lifted the biggest black thingy ever out of his pants!

"Baby, it was huge, and it was so hot in there, the windows were already fogged up so no one could see, and I was all alone with his big black thing, I just couldn't think straight! I could smell it, I swear, and my eyes couldn't look away. He started stroking it and telling me how good my lips would look wrapped around it, how it was going to end up in my mouth no matter what, and I think I moaned.

"It was feeling like a better and better idea, I don't know what came over me! Every time he talked about my lips or tongue sliding over it, and how it would feel pushing down my throat, I think I leaned over a little more! I thought I just wanted a closer look at it, but I'm not even sure.

"Suddenly his other hand closed over the back of my head, and I realized I'd leaned in too close. His... his cock, his big black cock was just a few inches from my face, big and swollen and jerking up and down with his hand, and now I was being pushed down towards it.

"I put my hands on his thigh, and I tried to tell him to stop, but I couldn't think of the words, and then... I'm sorry, baby. Then his cock was in my mouth. It ended up in my mouth just like he said.

"His hand was in my hair, pushing down, letting me back up until just the tip was in my mouth, then he pushed me back down again. I was trying to tell him I couldn't do this, that it was wrong, but it just sounded like moans to him. He had his cock in my mouth and my head was bobbing up and down in his lap, so what did he care?

"I could hear him, still saying dirty things, encouraging me to... to suck him off. I realized that's what I was doing. I wasn't just taking a closer look, and his cock happened to slip into my mouth. Now I was sucking him off, and he kept saying he won. I have no idea what he meant by that.

"I don't know how long I was down there, bent over in his lap, his hand in my hair and my head bobbing up and down. God, I hope nobody saw us. The parking lot was pretty empty when I met him, but all I could see at that point was the crotch of his jeans and his big balls in his boxers. Oh sweetie, I think I took his balls in my hand at some point. I just saw them there, and they looked so big.

"Eventually he started talking about how he was going to cum. He said his big black balls had been building up a giant hot load for me all day, but how could he have known this would happen? He said he knew I'd be sucking his dick, that he knew I would swallow his cum, and it was so hot but I had no idea what he meant.

"He lost his rhythm and just started humping his hips up into my face while pulling my head down with both hands in my hair. That huge black thing I had been staring at was all the way down my throat, I don't know how I did it! But he wasn't giving me any choice, he was forcing it all the way down there over and over again.

"Baby, he was fucking my face. The face he started all this by complimenting. Now his balls were slapping against that face every time he thrust up into it. After all the sweet things he said, he wasn't being very respectful now that he had what he wanted.

"Suddenly he yelled really loud, and I felt that load he was talking about pumping into my mouth and down my throat. It filled up my mouth so fast, baby, I had to swallow. I didn't really have much choice. So I swallowed, and swallowed and swallowed again. I thought he was just bragging. I thought he was making it up. I never thought his cock or his load were as big as he said they were... but he was right.

"By the time he let me up, I must have looked like I was half asleep. I was in shock at what he did, at what just happened. I could feel the wet mess around my lips, and I tried to lick it up but there was too much. I caught what dripped off my chin and smeared it on my hand. I didn't know what to say. He had me. He proved everything he was bragging about, and he made me suck him off.

"He said we could just skip dinner and he drove me to his place. While I had resisted, well, a little back in his SUV, now that he had talked me into giving him a blow job, I was like putty in his hands. He just led me to his bed, pushed me down, and... he fucked me. He pushed my denim miniskirt up around my waist, pulled my panties off and fucked me right there in his bed.

"It was unbelievable, Tommy. I don't know what came over me, but the moment I saw that big black thing push into my little white pussy, I started screaming and I never stopped. He was like an animal, ramming almost a foot of his thick cock into me several times each second.

"I was cumming so much and so hard that it was like one long orgasm the whole time. My poor pussy barely survived, honey. I think he might have stretched me out a bit. By the time he finally came, possibly even more than he unloaded into my mouth, I was so delirious I don't even think I knew where I was.

"Then he said something about how much he liked my ass, and he rolled me over. I was bent over the edge of the bed, with my knees on the floor, and suddenly he was pushing that big fat black thing up my ass. I know you always wanted it baby, and I'm sorry I never gave it to you, but he just took it, and he was inside me before I even knew what was going on.

"It felt... well, really good, eventually. I was so fucked out of my mind and relaxed that I think he got it inside a lot easier than it would have been back in the SUV. Then he started shoving himself into my ass, pushing my whole little body forward on the bed. That hurt, and I was grunting for a while, but by the time he got up to full speed, I was cumming again.

"I think it was the sheets. My swollen pussy was rubbing against the sheets every time he rammed forward, and it was grinding against my clit until I came over and over again. My poor ass was getting fucked so hard, baby, by the biggest black cock you'd ever see.

"I was squeezing the sheets in both hands, gritting my teeth, grunting and groaning, but he was in Heaven. He kept yelling out about how great he was, asking me who the man was now, that he was fucking this white girl in the ass, taking his coworker's girlfriend's ass, and she wasn't doing a damn thing but taking it. He was so mean, baby. He wasn't sweet like you.

"Finally I was begging him to cum in my ass, just to make it stop. He loved that, and he said he had one more load to dump in my ass, the biggest one yet, and he squeezed my butt cheeks and yelled again. I think he called me a bitch when he was cumming! The jerk. I could feel it coming out. My ass was stretched so tight, it felt like half a gallon was gushing in there. I felt so full.

"He said I'd tired him out and he stripped naked and laid on the bed, shutting off the light. It was late already. Somehow we'd been fucking for hours. I was still kneeling at the edge of the bed with his load oozing out of my ass, and then I remembered you. I'm so sorry baby, I just couldn't face you. I got into bed next to him.

"I couldn't sleep. A couple hours went by and I felt horrible, but I kept looking down at his big black cock lying across his thigh, and I would tear my eyes away only for them to keep drifting back to it. Finally I gave in, slid down the bed and sucked him off in his sleep. Even asleep, he seemed to feel he deserved it, the jerk. He didn't even wake up when he came in my mouth, and I swallowed it again.

"That was the last distraction I could give myself. So I wrote this note, and went back to your place. You looked so peaceful asleep, and when I saw your thing and thought about sucking it, it just wasn't the same. I'm sorry. I grabbed some clothes and I'm staying at his place. Love, Tina."

I was devastated. I kept wondering if these pages were some kind of sick joke, but it was her handwriting, in her pink gel pen from her purse, and I was screwed. I risked everything just to prove that arrogant jerk wrong, but he proved himself right instead. I felt like such an idiot for giving him just what he wanted.

The next day at work, on lunch break, he was waiting by my locker with that big damn smile on his face. I almost slugged him, but I was angrier at myself.

"One hundred bucks, man." he almost laughed.

I couldn't believe it. He still wanted money. "But... but she..."

"Hey, a bet's a bet, Tommy. I'm keeping her around for now, sure, but you still owe me."

In shock, I handed him the money. I couldn't even look him in the eyes. He laughed.

Suddenly I heard someone shuffle in timidly, without lifting her shoes off the floor, and it was her. Tina, looking down at the floor, ashamed. "Hey Tommy." She whispered.

"There you are, girl! You're late!" Darnell laughed. He was all smiles. "See, I told her I wanted a blow job on my lunch breaks, every day until I change my mind. Come here, girl, we can use this supply closet."

"I'm sorry Tommy..." Tina mumbled as Darnell led her away with his arm around her. I watched in silent shock as his arm slid down her waist until his hand rested on her ass cheek, squeezing it hard.

He led her inside, flicked on the light, then shot me one last smile before closing the door. As the door swung shut, I could see Tina dropping to her knees.

For several minutes, I heard nothing from her, but Darnell was loud and obnoxious as ever. "Yeah girl, pull it out... that's right. Yeah, stroke that thing in those little hands, get it hard. Open wide, bitch, damn! Work that mouth, yeah!"

Eventually I think I heard some girly moans accompanying his victorious bragging. "Suck that dick girl, suck that dick! Come here!" The moans turned to gagging and choking sounds, and I began to think he must be getting close and grabbed her head, fucking her face like he did in his SUV.

Any other guy might barge in there and get violent, but what could I do? I went along with this. I was just as guilty as them. For some reason I just couldn't stop listening. It was all the action I was going to get from her, at least for a while.

Darnell clearly wanted me to hear him abusing my girlfriend. "Fucking slut, take my cock down your throat! Yeah, that's it! Deeper! Fuck! You ready for that load?"

I was glad everyone else was actually out at lunch, because he was getting loud enough that anyone could hear him. Even the wet sounds of sucking, slurping and choking were loud enough to hear through the door.

Then he got louder than ever. "Take my load, bitch! FUCK! Swallow that nut!" I clenched my fists. She never swallowed for me.

I think I actually heard a few gulping noises, then nothing. Finally, the door burst open and Darnell strutted out, buckling his belt and zipping up, the biggest damn smile yet on his face. Behind him, Tina was still on her knees.

"Got to admit, she was everything you said she was, Tommy. Give your girl a kiss, yo." Darnell laughed. I groaned as he walked past me and out the door.

Tina slowly got up and walked out of the supply closet. Her hair was a mess in two places, where it had obviously been bunched up in his fists, her make-up was smeared and her lips and chin were still covered in slime. The knees of her jeans were dirty.

I didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to say. She licked her lips and walked out.

fin

Always Bet On Black



(Sunday, return flight)

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be arriving in Columbus in about an hour." The captain continues his spiel as I look out the airplane window, continuing to reflect on the last weekend. I just wonder how I'm going to forget about everything that happened.

I should explain. I'm getting married in six days, and meeting Marilyn and falling in love with her has always been the best thing that's ever happened to me. This coming Saturday, we're making it official and getting married - at least we should be. The woman I spent all of college with...and now I just don't know.

I met her during freshman orientation at college, and we dated for two years until I asked her to marry me after spring finals of our sophomore year. I had saved my overage checks to buy an engagement ring, and we set a date almost immediately for this Saturday, just a month after graduation. For me, the timing couldn't be any more perfect.

I never listened to people who tell us that we're too young to get married. When you know, you know, and Marilyn and I have always known. Our families support us one hundred percent, and her father is even hiring me to be an accountant at his firm. I start next Monday, just two days after the wedding. Maybe Marilyn and I will take a honeymoon next year; I don't know.

I'm still figuring things out, though. At this point, my mind is racing, and I'm praying that Marilyn doesn't find out. After all, I need to hold onto this secret for as long as possible, or everything goes to hell - the wedding, my job, everything I've worked for.

But on the other hand, is that really the worst thing in the world? I put my head in my hands and think to myself as the plane descends. I guess it's time to get back to my life after a weekend of fantasy. After all, that's pretty much what a bachelor party is. I can't let it run my life.

(Friday, noon)

My three best friends and I grab our bags, climb off the airport shuttle, and head to the ticket counter, although I'm still not sure why we're here. They're the ones who had me set aside this weekend for my bachelor party, but we're only going to Cleveland; it's just two hours away and it seems easier to drive.

I made sure to ask them to keep it simple - no drunken orgies, no strippers, nothing that could get me in trouble - and they seem to be honoring that, although with a wild man like my friend Chaz in the picture, it's hard to imagine what he has set up.

Thankfully, Marilyn's here to see me off. She's really the best thing that's happened to me, and I'm thankful she's been in my life since I started college. I never had a girlfriend in high school, but when I saw Marilyn, I knew there was a connection, and so did she.

We dated throughout our first two years, and during that time, she's helped me immensely. My grades improved from high school to college, I never went to wild parties, and I have a job lined up after graduation. Chaz may call me a loser for being so into Marilyn's clean-living philosophy, but it's really been the best thing for me.

And now here she is at the airport, seeing me off to my bachelor party. She had her bachelorette party last weekend, and it looked like a lot of fun. I'm sure this weekend will be just as exciting, but I'm more looking forward to the wedding next Saturday. 

She tags along with us all the way to the security check-in, drawing a sneer from Chaz and a snotty remark: "Just buy a ticket and follow us there, why don't you?" Marilyn avoids fighting back, just giving him her world-famous death stare, and the subject is dropped.

I kiss her goodbye, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her watching me the whole way as she heads out. I mindlessly meander through security, following behind Chaz, who has all of our boarding passes, and everything goes without incident as I hear the TSA agent give me my gate assignment. I don't really pay too much attention; as usual, I just follow Chaz, who has everything planned out.

I soon realize I should have listened to my gut and that something was wrong. It figures; I should never have trusted Chaz to plan a bachelor party. Unfortunately, I don't find out until we're about to arrive at the gate, and my choices consist either of going along - and praying I stay out of trouble - or walking away.

"I guess now's the time to tell you, Dave," Chaz begins, appearing to hold back laughter. "We're not going to Cleveland." I should have guessed that by the fact that we're flying and the fact that we'll be incommunicado for over four hours, a fact that displeases Marilyn greatly. He hands out the boarding passes, and I look over it. Immediately my heart sinks - no way am I staying out of trouble this weekend. Not with Chaz on the loose - in Las Vegas.

"We board in forty-five minutes. Let's go," Chaz commands, as I stop in my tracks and hand him back the boarding pass.

"I'm out," I state, firmly.

"Come on, dude," he belts back, with my other friends chiming in. "You only get to do this once."

"I said, I'm out," but he refuses to take the boarding pass. "I'm calling Marilyn and going home."

"What the hell?" shouts back Chaz. "I put in a lot of work for this weekend, and-"

"And I hope you enjoy it," I scold. "I won't be going."

"Not cool," he fires back. "Now I didn't say you have to go out to Vegas and fuck the first woman you see. Just have some fun. For all I know, it's the last fucking time you'll be able to after Marilyn gets you on lockdown."

"Lockdown?" I shout. "You don't know anything about Marilyn if you think she's keeping me on lockdown."

"Fine." The word of defeat evident. "If you really want out, I'll take your boarding pass. Go fuck off home and we'll have fun. But it's the last damn thing I ever do for you." I look at the boarding pass in my hand. Back at Chaz. Then back at the pass, thinking it over. "Or you can come to Vegas and actually do something fun instead of this bullshit Marilyn makes you do. You're a free man for another week. If I were you, I'd enjoy it."

I hold the boarding pass in my hands, looking sternly at Chaz while he returns the stare. I can end this. I can go home, tell Marilyn everything, and feel good about what I did. Or I could go with Chaz and see how life is on the other side of things.

(Friday, airport)

Well, here we are - Las Vegas. All is said and done, We're off the plane, we have our luggage, and we're on our way to the hotel. Chaz, never one to skimp, got us rooms at the Planet Hollywood, if for no other reason than the dealers who wear lingerie. Not my thing, but whatever does it for him.

It's a whole lot of hell convincing Marilyn that we were incommunicado for four hours because of a problem with our luggage, but I think she buys it. I know she has an itinerary from Chaz - fake, of course, including a baseball game and some comedy club - but the only itinerary for me this weekend is staying out of trouble. Frankly, though, if Chaz pisses me off, I'm more than happy to spend the weekend in my room watching free cable and eating granola bars while the rest of them go out and do stupid shit. 

After I get over the initial shock of seeing slot machines at the airport, we catch a cab and check into our hotel room, where I shove my bag into a corner and plop down on the bed exhausted. I take a look out the window - at least it's a nice view of the Strip - and turn on the television, figuring I can at least watch the game we planned on attending on TV.

Chaz gathers us all up in some sort of pre-fuckery huddle, asking right away, "Where to first?"

"Right here," I answer abruptly. "I'm taking a nap. If you assholes have any money left when I wake up, we'll go get dinner."

I expect a bit of laughter out of Chaz - and get none. "You're not fucking this weekend up, Dave," he demands. "You're going out and having a good time, since it's the last time you ever will."

"Go fuck yourself," I fire back. "I didn't ask to come out here, and if I want to, I'll sleep. Now get the hell out of here."

Chaz throws his hands up and walks out, evidently defeated, and I pass out pretty quickly, not even thinking about what kind of shit they're about to get into. It's about three in the afternoon in Vegas, so there's still lots of time for me to let this weekend slip away while they go out and make stupid decisions.

The next thing I notice is my cell phone going off; predictably, it's Marilyn checking in. Damn, I think - have to wake up quickly so she doesn't notice I was sleeping and start asking questions.

"Did you get a cold out there?" I hear her ask - I clear my throat and start talking normally. "Don't scare me like that. I told you Chaz was trouble. I wish you were home." Yeah, me too, but I don't tell her that. "So tonight's the show. It must be later." I check the time quickly - almost six, nine back home.

"Yeah, it's a later show. I don't know anything about this guy." This part's true - I guess I have to look him up to tell Marilyn about him later. Maybe fake something about how vulgar he is and that I walked out halfway through. Just grit my teeth, I think. Soon I'll be back home.

I hang up and call Chaz, figuring he's either broke, in jail, or doing something dumb; surprisingly, he seems pretty upbeat when he answers. "Dude, come down here. I got us reservations at this kick-ass steakhouse." Chaz, of course, says it's on him - must be nice to have rich parents and a bottomless budget for crazy trips.

(Friday night, Planet Hollywood casino floor)

For once, I actually feel pretty good about this trip. Maybe it's the overpriced dinner Chaz just bought, or maybe it's the whiskey he talked me into having - another thing not to tell Marilyn, who's talked me into giving up alcohol. Until now, that is.

"So what do you guys want to play?" Chaz asks, and we go looking for a game. Blackjack? Too conventional, and I can never figure out that damn game. I know it's good, but when do you split, do you hit your 16 against a 10, it's just too much thinking.

"I want something easy," I fire back. "I'm not here to do a bunch of math." I spent four years doing a bunch of math. I'm not here to work.

Chaz looks around - and zeroes in on the aforementioned lingerie pit. A roulette game doesn't have anyone on it, so we all head over and buy in, Chaz for five hundred and the other guys for a hundred each. I, on the other hand, toss down a $20 bill.

"Really, dude?" Chaz scolds.

"I only brought a hundred to gamble with," I shoot back - I have more but want to save it.

"Just live a little, will you? Besides," he chuckles, "I think you're getting lucky." The dealer, a blonde named Molly, is slightly amused. "You like blondes, right, Dave?" I give a hard look back to Chaz - Marilyn's a redhead.

I collect my chips, not letting go of the cold stare, and bet $10 on the even numbers and nothing more while Chaz slaps $5 chips on what seems like the entire board.

Molly spins the ball, her breasts resting in her lacy red bra as she grins at us. I guess she's about a C-cup, all natural, and probably a lot smarter than her appearance lets on.

The ball drops. "Twenty-two black," Molly calls, paying me my $10 and Chaz a huge stack of chips for his win, though I think he loses about as much as he wins. Molly then instructs us to place our bets as I look over my winnings.

After another couple of spins, I'm even, and we seem to have brought Molly some more company. A young woman sets down a tall stack of $100 bills, and Chaz' eyes light up at her - I can tell he's into her right away. She isn't his type at all - Chaz usually likes girls like Molly, and this one is a dark-skinned black woman with red streaks in her hair - but I'm guessing that buying in for $3,000 will change his mind.

She brings a friend with her, one with a similar build, dark skin, a bright smile, and blonde highlights - and an equally impressive stack of money. She seems to have trouble finding a spot, so she squeezes in next to me. Great, I think. Just what I need. 

I glumly slide in a stack of ten chips on red while my new neighbor takes a stack of green chips - twenty-five dollars apiece, chips the dealer ironically calls "quarters" - and dwarfs my stack, betting against me on black. She seems to give me a bit of a dirty look, and I turn away from her.

"Lighten up, will you?" she scolds. "I'm just having fun. We're in Vegas; live a little." I fake a smile and look at Molly, who's ready to spin the ball.

"I'm sorry," the woman responds. "I don't mean to be in your face. I'm just having fun." She looks me right in the eyes and smiles. She really does have nice eyes. I shouldn't be looking into another woman's eyes like this, but I'm looking at her in the eyes, not taking her behind the table and fucking her.

"I'm Cherise," she tells me, extending her hand - no jewelry except a diamond bracelet, fingernails that are real but painted and a bit longer than average, and no beauty marks or blemishes.

"Dave," I answer, shaking her hand. She smiles as she releases my hand and looks back at the wheel - damn, I think.

"Ten black," Molly calls out as my bet loses but Cherise's wins. I jealously look at Cherise, who collects a mind-blowing stack of chips, tossing one to Molly, who thanks her for the tip.

The next couple of spins go much like this, as Cherise wins big and I'm down to my last $10. I look on, frustrated, as Cherise shoves a huge stack of money on black again.

"Bet with me," Cherise tells me. "Trust me on this, honey." I look strangely at her, and she repeats it. "Tell you what. I like looking at you, so if you lose, I'll cover your loss. Bet all that on black."

She licks her lips as I take her up on her offer, shoving my chips on black. I look at Cherise, tall, polished, and voluptuous, wondering what her deal is. I'm guessing she's some drug dealer's girlfriend or something, not even realizing just what a racist asshole I seem like saying that. Maybe her boyfriend plays football instead; I don't know...damnit, Dave, shut the fuck up.

"Twenty black!" calls out Molly, paying both me and Cherise. I take my stack, going back even, as Cherise nudges closer to me. She puts her hand on my leg, though a quick look gets her hand back to her own space.

"You ever been to Vegas, sexy?" giggles Cherise - I tell her I haven't and that I'm only 22. "I like younger guys. Well, not that much younger; I'm 28." That's nice, I think. "What brings you out here?"

"Bachelor party," I answer, hoping to drop the subject before Chaz notices I'm discussing my upcoming wedding. "I'm getting married next Saturday."

"Well, congratulations, I guess. I wouldn't get married at your age." She stacks chips on several numbers, again shoving what appears to be a thousand dollars onto black. "Bet with me again, honey," she insists. "All of it. I'll cover you if you lose."

I follow her advice, but then I ask, "I don't get it. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because," she laughs, "you're so damn good-looking. You're lucky I'm not in your lap right now."

"I don't think my fiancee would like that," I sheepishly reply.

"Well, your fiancee isn't here, is she?" she fires back.

I hear the ball drop once again - fuck yes. "Eight black!" calls out Molly, who's now paying Cherise in $500 purple chips. I'm up for once, and I can't even count how well Cherise is doing. I look over at Chaz, though, and he's buying in for another $500. 

Cherise seems to be getting friendlier with me, her winnings growing with mine and her hand finding its way into my lap once again but this time staying there. "Do you trust me?" she asks - I don't answer. "Well, if you trust me, bet with me again. Put some chips on my numbers."

I put $100 on black, taking my stack and following her direction. "Bet on thirteen," she tells me. "It's my birthday. When's yours?" The twenty-fourth, which I bet on as well. Chaz, of course, isn't anywhere near either of those bets, opposing me with two $100 black chips on red. Eat my dust, Chaz, I think. The hot girl and I are taking your crazy ass down.

Molly bends over the wheel and spins, practically exposing herself along the way. I watch the wheel, not even noticing that Cherise seems to have her hands on me and I'm not stopping her at all. The wild thought of a threesome with Cherise and Molly enters my mind, not that I'd entertain any notion that insane. I just want a damn winner.

The ball drops, bounces around, off one of those weird diamond-looking things, and I can't bring myself to take my eyes off of it - no, no, no, wait, yes. Good. "Thirty-one black," shouts Molly. My two numbers lose on the inside but I make $100 off the spin. Cherise? Two grand. And her hand under my shirt.

"What the-?" I ask Cherise, who quickly removes her hand. I can't even spit it out.

"Look at this," she answers, holding four purple chips. "You're lucky, Dave. I'd like to find out just how lucky you are."

"Are you shitting me?" I spit out to a confused Cherise - a rarity for me, since Marilyn scolds me for cursing.

"Chill, Dave," she giggles as I fume. "I said you're lucky because I won every time here. I usually get my ass kicked at this game." No shit, considering I actually took a statistics class where the professor debunked roulette and its ridiculous house advantage. No idea how I'm up almost $200. "I came out here in May and lost five grand. No big deal."

"The fuck do you mean no big deal?" I blurt out. "What the holy fuck do you do where you can blow through five grand on a game with a house edge of five and a quarter percent is no big deal? For fuck's sake, if you want to blow through your God damn money, go play fucking baccarat. It's got better odds."

"Will you be cool, Dave? You're acting like a damn spaz. It's like you're some animal that spends your life in a cage eating hamster food and now you're out and don't know what the fuck to do with yourself." I put my hands up in confusion. "I like you, Dave. You sound like a great guy. And I'm up an assload of money, and I think you're the reason."

"I get it," I answer, calmly. "But-"

"The hand under the shirt, I know." She smiles. "My bad. Won't happen again." Then she leans into my ear and whispers. It takes me a second to figure out what she says.

"Unless I have a fat stack out there."

I step away from her as Molly appears halfway ready to call security. "Kidding," replies Cherise. "I'm messing with you. God, you're so much fun to fuck around with."

Molly giggles as I smile, accepting her explanation. She's already done two spins without us on them - sixteen and twenty-one, both red numbers - and Cherise takes her winnings from the previous spin and slides them out on black.

"Tell you what," she calls out to me, seeing me a little annoyed at missing some action. "Bet those chips on black with me." I set two green chips on black, a little nervous. "No. All of them," she continues, and I look at her funny. "Don't give me that look, Dave," she scolds. "Do it."

"What if I don't?" I answer.

"I'll get it out of you one way or another," she teases. "I'm that damn good. Now do it." I refuse. "Fine. I'll sweeten the pot. If you lose, I'll cover your losses."

"You'll cover my losses?" I answer in disbelief.

"I will give you two black chips if we lose," she responds. "And I'll leave you alone. You'll never hear from me again."

What the hell, I think, as she sets down the two promised chips in front of her, smiling as I comply. Molly gets the ball out to spin.

"And by the way," continues Cherise, "if we win, I owe you a drink. We'll color up and head to the bar."

"What?" I exclaim, not sure if I'm hearing her right.

"It's a drink, not sex," she continues. "Don't be such a fucking prude." With that, I agree, putting my remaining chips on 13 and 24 black. Looks like about $20 on each number.




Always Bet On Black



Chaz continues placing numbers on the inside, as does Cherise, who's bent over as she reaches for the far numbers. I look her over for a moment, my eyes averted from the perky blonde dealer, taking in this woman.

At this point, it hits me - damn. Cherise is, to put it nicely, fucking hot. Her ass is definitely her best feature, filling out her jeans so perfectly. It's so round, so big, sticking out as she's reaching for some numbers. And she's not shy about it, letting her ass wiggle and shake as she works her magic. I take in a shocked breath, not sure what hit me - and then I see a little more.

Underneath her jeans. She's that far bent over, yes - and her jeans are now unable to obscure the barely-there blue g-string underneath. This thing leaves nothing to the imagination - yes, it's there, and it contrasts a bit with her gorgeous ass, but pretty much all I see beyond that is the bare top of her ass. Fuck, I think. And this is just her ass; I haven't even gotten a good look at the rest of her very impressive figure.

I snap back into reality as I hear the ball bounce off a number in the wheel, stopping wherever the hell it lands. Not sure what's going on, but I can't let myself get that lost in thought again. Cherise is hot, yes, but she's a fantasy. I don't usually allow myself to dive into fantasy, so it's a bit of a crazy ride when I do.

I look over at Molly, who now seems kind of plain by comparison, looking at the ball, ready to make a call. At this point, I've pretty much forgotten about what I bet on - then I look at my stack of chips. Then at the ball.

"Thirteen black!" calls out Molly, and I look dead-on at the layout - fucking A. I have a stack of chips on thirteen, as does Cherise, and we're the only two winners. I collect my $200 in winnings, so Cherise doesn't have to cover me, and then comes the time to rake in my big win for number 13.

"Pay him in value," instructs Cherise, and I agree, since I'm ready to color up and take my winnings - over a thousand dollars. This out of twenty dollars, just like that, I collect my winnings, turn it into ten black $100 chips and some leftover red $5 chips, and head over to Chaz, who's reaching into his wallet again. Dumbass.

"Hey, what are we doing after this?" I ask - and Cherise interrupts me.

"You're going with me, sexy," she fires back. "I'm taking you to the bar."

"I don't think so," I answer, ready to walk off. The last thing I want to do is get into trouble, and the fastest way to get into trouble is time alone with this woman.

"I said, you're going with me," she icily demands. "We had a deal. You won a hell of a lot of money here, and so did I."

"I was joking when I agreed to that," I chuckle - she's not smiling. "I thought of you as something of a good luck charm, not as someone I actually thought about spending time alone with." I turn to Chaz, preparing to walk away. "I'm going back to the room."

Chaz grabs my shirt. "If you don't do this, I will lose all respect for you and shit in your mouth when you sleep." Well, fuck. "It's a fucking drink. It's not cheating."

"Well," I cut him off, "to me it is."

"Are you really that fucking lame?" he exclaims. "Was it cheating when Marilyn fucked her tutor?"

"You told me you wouldn't mention that again!" Pure rage from me. "We worked through that. It's over."

"Right, you worked through that," Chaz snidely remarks. Cherise is looking a little impatient. "What about a couple of weeks ago when I saw her go into that motel with her best friend's ex?"

OK, now I know this is bullshit - he steps back and grabs his phone, shuffling through the pictures. This guy takes a lot of pictures, mostly of blondes. Go figure. But then he gets to the pictures in question - that's her, all right, in a motel outside of town. And the exact guy she was talking about.

At this point, I'm not sure what to do. I'm a little numb to the realization that Marilyn hasn't stopped cheating on me. I forgave her once. I could do it again. I could go back up to my room and cry. It's what I did the first time, and it sounds good to me. I love Marilyn. I want to marry her. I can get past this.

"I'm waiting," the words from an impatient Cherise. "Are we doing this?"

I pause. I look her over. This is a sure thing. Even if I don't take it farther than a drink...I need to talk with someone. And Chaz isn't interested. He's too busy handing over money to a blonde. Fine.

"I'm in," I answer. "Let's go."

(Friday night, Planet Hollywood bar)

"I'll take a sex on the beach," Cherise calls out to the bartender, a guy, as she orders me a whiskey sour. "So I know i was little aggressive back there, and I didn't mean to be. I was just having fun."

"At this point, Cherise," I fume, "I don't give a fuck what you do. I'm just so fucking pissed off now."

"I get it," she answers. "This is why I don't like to be tied down. And you're way too young to be tied down. I mean, come on, you're twenty-two? Did you just graduate college?" I confirm it. "Just do me a favor." OK. "Don't be a whiny little bitch around me about this. Your fiancee is a whore. She doesn't deserve you crying over her. What she deserves," she continues, "is you getting some revenge."

"Look," I tell her, firmly, "I know she's cheating on me. But there's no way I'm sleeping with you."

"Who said anything about that?" she laughs as our drinks arrive, prompting her to hand over her credit card - a shiny black American Express card - to open a tab. "I'm just showing you a good time."

"I don't get it," I stammer. "Why me? Who exactly are you that you can just blow all this money in Vegas?"

"Take a guess, Dave," she slyly invites me.

"Ummm...I got nothing." I really have nothing. At least nothing that doesn't turn her into some kind of ghetto stereotype on the run from the law. "Lottery winner?" At least that one speaks more to her age than her race.

"You're funny," she chuckles. "I'm a venture capitalist. I invest in new businesses and make crazy money off them."

"Wow," I marvel. "I always thought of venture capitalists as-"

"Old white guys?" she laughs. "No one thinks that's what I do. But I'm damn good. I cleared nine figures last year." I look at her stunned. "Just out of curiosity, what did you think I did?"

I think about my answer for a second - and blurt it out thoughtlessly anyway. "Drug dealer."

At this point, she loses it - laughing, fortunately. Damn, this woman's cool. And she's paying for me to drink? Why was I wasting my time with a cold bitch like Marilyn when there were women out there like Cherise - probably right under my nose, too.

She calms down from laughing at my "drug dealer" comment and finally turns back serious for a moment. "I love your honesty, Dave," she smirks as she talks. "A lot of guys are afraid of me. I think you could handle me."

Wait, handle her? "What do you mean?" I blurt out.

"We all know where this is going, Dave," she continues. "Let me write down my room number. I'm having a party tonight. Open bar, crazy times. I hope you and your friends are there." She grins as she writes it down - she's across the Strip at the Bellagio. 

She kisses me on the cheek and walks away, and I watch her head out, studying her walk. She moves in an easy, casual manner, her long legs supporting her big, round ass. I think about the g-string I saw underneath, licking my lips as I see her saunter away. She flips her long, wavy, black hair as I see her disappear from the bar as I imagine myself undressing her in her suite later tonight and-

I almost have to slap myself back into reality. Cherise may be hot as fuck, but she's just a fantasy. No way is she interested in a guy like me. I'm just some new college graduate who bet $20 on a roulette table opposite her three thousand. I'm nobody. Besides, I'm getting married in a week. I shouldn't be here.

But, on the other hand, Marilyn just fucked her best friend's ex. She's still cheating on me. She probably won't stop, so I guess I just have to work harder at forgiving her. Besides, if I don't, and I end the relationship, that's a lot of pissed-off guests next weekend, and her old man's out twenty grand on wedding expenses. That's fine with me, except I'll be working for him starting the Monday after the wedding. I need this job. The economy is shit, and he's doing me a favor. I guess letting his daughter fuck around is the price I pay for a good job.

I sit and finish my drink as Chaz walks up, looking more pleased than before. "You left too soon, buddy!" he shouts. "The thirteen came two more times. I put fifty bucks out there and hit it twice! I made three grand!" Good for you, I think, as I clutch the napkin. "What do you have in your hand, bro?"

"Nothing," I answer. "Just my napkin. Spilled my drink a bit."

:"You're such a fucking klutz," he taunts as I continue to hold it in my hand while he approaches. Finally, he stops at the seat on the other side and looks closely. "What's written on it?"

"Nothing!" I snap back.

"Bullshit," he teases, taking it out of my hand before I can answer. One look at it and his eyes light up. "Oh, fuck yes, dude! You got her room number! You are doing this!"

"No!" I shout back. "I'm not doing this!"

"After what that bitch did, you're not doing anything to her?" he screams.

"No! I'm not!" I try to continue, but I'm getting nowhere.

"This girl is crazy about you, and you're just blowing her off?" He looks over the napkin - just her name and room number. "I know the Bellagio, and this is a fucking presidential suite."

"I don't care!" At this point, I'm almost hoarse. "I'm not cheating on Marilyn."

"Why?" Because it's wrong, I think. "Because her asshole father hired you?" That, too. "Her father's a middle manager at a damn accounting firm. Cherise has money for luxury suites at the God damn Bellagio!"

"It's not about that!" I shout. "Cherise is a venture capitalist. She'll eat me alive. Besides, she offered me a drink, not a job."

"Like you need a fucking job," he laughs. "Just hook up with Cherise and make her your sugar mama."

"I don't do that," I dismiss him. "Besides, she doesn't like to be tied down."

"Who the fuck said anything about being tied down?" he snaps back. "Just fuck her, spend her money, and live life. Move out here to Vegas or something. That's what I'm doing."

"You live in a fantasy world, Chaz," I scold. "Your parents gave you everything. I worked for what I have. Besides," I continue, "she's inviting me to her suite for a party, not sex. Not that I want-"

"We're going," he interrupts. "I don't want to hear another fucking word. We're going."

"Have fun," I fire back. "I'm going up to the room."

"Whatever, dude," he exasperates. "When you decide to stop being a lame-ass, come join me at the Bellagio."

That will be never. I'll be a lame-ass who's faithful to his future wife. I'll be the good one. Let him fuck up his life. Besides, I don't go to parties.

(Midnight Friday, Bellagio)

"This is the place," Chaz tells us as the four of us arrive at the suite Cherise wrote down. I don't know anything about her - maybe she really is a drug dealer or something - and here I am going to her suite. What in the fuck is going on, and why did I let Chaz talk me into this?

After Chaz knocks, a woman answers and sees me, looking me over. "You must be Dave," she slurs, sipping a cocktail. "And his friends. Get in here! Woooooooooo!"

I look her over - she seems oddly familiar. Blonde, a nice pair of breasts in a low-cut top, cutoff shorts, heels - and Chaz calls out, "Dibs on this one!" pointing to her. I look down her shirt briefly, studying her - holy shit, no wonder she looked familiar. She just paid me a shitload of money on the roulette table. I briefly wonder if her name is really Molly - she confirms it is.

I nervously stay with my group, although Chaz is instantly all over Molly while the rest of us head closer to the window. I grab a drink from what appears to be an open bar and kill time looking out the window at the Strip. Chaz is definitely getting lucky tonight. Good for him; I'll just wait here and wait for a chance to leave.

I wander a little bit, more trying to stay out of people's way than anything, when I bump into a woman, spilling a bit of her drink on her. After apologizing profusely, she looks me over and pauses for a moment. "Did you come here with that crazy white boy?" She'll have to be more specific. "The one with that blonde?" Yes. "You're the one from the roulette table that won all that money with my girl Cherise, right?" Wait, who the-wait. She's the other woman Cherise was there with.

"I thought you looked familiar," I awkwardly tell her.

"Dave, right?" I confirm it. "I'm Monet. Cherise and I are business partners. And she left two spins too early." Yes, I know. "And she's looking for you." She directs me through a door, and without thinking, I head in there, not seeing anything.

I instantly wish I didn't - the door shuts behind me, and there stands Cherise wearing just the g-string I saw under her jeans earlier and a matching blue bra. "Glad you made it," she softly tells me. "Like what you see, Dave?"

"What the hell is going on?" I demand. "Did you just get me up here to-"

"Fuck your brains out?" she interrupts. "Of course not. I'm a lot classier than that. If anything, I'm a lot more interested in your brain. I'm always looking for new entrepreneurs."

"Look, Cherise," I cut her off, "I have a job already. I start in a week."

"A job." She seems dismissive. "Doing whatever some fucker tells you for a paycheck that's too fucking small. You can do so much better. You're a smart guy, Dave."

"You don't know anything about me," I snap.

"Come on, Dave. All that stuff about the odds of the game." And that means what to you exactly? "You know numbers. You're smart. And I could use a guy who's smart for some business ideas I have. I just need the brains. I have the funding to get you started. I can make you rich."

Rich, huh? I suppose you're a great fuck, too. "Not interested," I fire back. I prepare to turn around.

"Dave, hang on." I'm not ready to. I want to get the hell out of here. "If you walk away from me, you're going back to your boring life. Working some boring-ass job while your new wife fucks someone else. Is that what you want?" I pause for a moment. "Well, is it?"

I can only manage one thing: "I love Marilyn."

She chuckles. "And yet you want me."

"You're not my type," I fire back.

"Don't knock it until you try it," she replies. "Now let me work my magic."

"Cherise, I'm sorry, but," I pause, "I'm not into black women."

"I get that a lot," she answers. "You know how many guys I get with who say that?" Umm, no? "And do you know how many guys who say the same thing afterwards?" Really now. "Hell, I hooked up with a guy like you a while back in Vegas. A lot like you - married, worked as a store manager, trying to buy a house and start a family. He came out here with a couple of friends, he saw me, and the next thing he did was fly home, leave his wife, quit his job, and came right back out to Vegas. Now he owns a strip club. He makes millions and I see him with a different woman every time I visit." I'm sure she's fucking with me. "He also fed me the same line of bullshit you just did about not liking black girls. And damn near every girl he dates now is black."

"Look, that's a very interesting story," I dismiss as she approaches me. "Now let me get back to my life."

"Look at me, Dave," as my eyes follow her. It's not hard to look her over; she's gorgeous. "Tell me you don't want to fuck me."

"OK," I reply. "I, um, don't want to, um-"

"Spit it out," she interrupts, "or I'll do this."

Before I can move, she presses her body against me and kisses me. Her big, round breasts press into my chest, her tongue parts my lips, and her hands go straight under my shirt before I can even react.

My God, I think. This is incredible. Marilyn doesn't kiss me like this. I wonder if she kisses anyone else like this. But instead of thinking, I just melt.

I kiss Cherise back. She's a wonderful kisser. She's passionate, sweet, and tastes heavenly. I don't know how to describe it, but I don't want to think about it.

I don't even notice she's removed my shirt, so her bra is now pushed against my bare chest. For a moment, she breaks the kiss and whispers, "How was that?"

"Fuck," I whisper. "You're good."

"Now would you like me to take your pants off?" she asks.

"Yes," I answer, almost on autopilot.

"Good," as she undoes my belt, and my pants drop to my ankles and soon come off completely. I'm in my boxers, which she pulls down quickly as she looks my naked body over. I feel a little jealous that she's still in her bra and g-string, but I get the feeling I'll have her naked soon as well.

"I knew you wanted me," as she takes my manhood in her hand - hard as a rock. Not that it wasn't the minute I saw her stripped down like this - or even bent over at the roulette table. She's sexy as hell and she knows how to use it.

She starts sucking me, fast, passionate, and with purpose, as I look down at her. Her ass is so big, so round, so perfect in that g-string, and it sticks out from her body. Her skin is so dark and so smooth, like dark chocolate. Her breasts...fuck it, I think, as she sucks me, and I bend over and grab the hooks on her bra.

Without waiting, I unhook her bra, and she lets it slide off, baring her magnificent breasts. I get a good look inside the bra, seeing the size tag - she has a beautiful pair of DDDs. I immediately grab them and squeeze them lightly as she continues working me over with her mouth.

"You want more, baby?" she asks me as she pauses.

"Fuck yes," I answer.

"Good," she smiles. "Let's fuck."

"Do you have a condom?" I ask.

"Fuck that," she replies, sliding off her g-string and revealing a neatly trimmed landing strip. "I'm on the pill. I just love hooking up. Now let's go," as she throws me down on the bed and immediately climbs on top of me. "You're a lucky guy," she says, smiling. "You got a sexy woman who wants your cock. And I know you can handle me. How big are you, anyway?" I don't know the answer. "Doesn't matter. You're huge."

She kisses me again as she straddles my eager manhood, riding me as she slips her hot, wet tongue in my mouth. Damn, this woman can do anything she wants to me. I think for a second about how I'm blatantly cheating on Marilyn, but I'm beyond caring.

"Fuck!" she shouts as I'm sure the other guests can hear us, even over the loud music. "Damn, Dave, you're huge." I grab her ass as she rides me, squeezing her round, amazing cheeks as she rides me hard and fast. I love how she doesn't fuck around and gets straight to business - after years of Marilyn's bullshit, it's nice to have a woman cut straight to the chase and give me exactly what I want.

With every bounce of her big, round ass, she pushes me deeper into her, giving me the most intense pleasure of my life. Damn, this woman can fuck. I don't even have to do anything but squeeze her ass, and she's rocking my world.

She kisses my neck, my bare chest, my mouth, all over me as she rides me. Her breasts jiggle right in front of my face as I watch her work her perfect magic. Over her moans, I grab her breasts, squeezing them just like her ass - and just like her ass, they're firm, smooth, and so perfect. Her big, round DDDs are all my hands can handle.

I kiss her deeply, muffling her moans a bit as she bounces on my cock. She's not changing things up much, just riding me hard and fast as I caress and grope her beneath her magnificent body.

Her moans get louder, even through the deep, sustained kiss, and I can tell soon enough she's near climax. I've never been with a woman who loves to fuck as much as Cherise, and she's making it incredible for me, riding me as fast, deep, and hard as she can.




Always Bet On Black



"Oh, fuck!" she manages over her loud moans as I feel myself about ready to climax with her. I grab her ass, guiding her thrusts to maximize my pleasure and giving the effect of maximizing hers as well. She speeds up, intensifying her moans and building me up to what's about to be an incredible orgasm.

I feel myself about to blow my load, but I don't have to do anything; I just relax, squeeze her ass, and listen to her passionate screams as she grinds into my body, orgasming at the same time as me. She slows down a bit, wiggling her ass over top of me as she straddles my hard cock while it fills her up. I lose all control as I moan softly, drowned out by her screams, my body going into a deep state of relaxed, pleasured numbness.

Cherise collapses on top of me, her bare breasts pressed against me as my cock is still inside her. She parts my lips, kissing me softly and stroking my tongue with hers. I feel more satisfied in every way than I thought was possible.

She breaks the kiss and I look in her gorgeous eyes and exasperate, "That...was awesome."

"I know, baby," she answers softly. "Damn, you're good."

"I didn't even do anything," I reply, smiling.

"With a cock like that, there's no need." She kisses my neck. "I've never seen a white boy as big as you."

She wraps her naked body around mine, throws the sheet over us, and kisses me on the cheek, and soon enough, I drift off to sleep with her all over me.

(Saturday morning, 11 am, Bellagio suite)

I wake up in a bit of confusion, recognizing instantly that I'm not in my room or at home and wondering where the hell my clothes are. Memories of last night are slowly coming back to me as I wake up.

Last night, I played roulette. I won a shitload of money, against all odds. I could have won more. And there was a hot black woman with her friend at the table who bought me a drink and chatted with me. And for some reason, I'm pissed off at Marilyn. Oh, fuck, I think - Marilyn's probably called me a thousand times. What time is it anyway? Why is it so late in the morning? What did I do last night that was so awesome that I still feel satisfied in-

Cherise. That was her name. And I fucked her. I cheated on Marilyn. It's not me who's pissed. It's her who's going to be pissed. And it's all my fault. Totally unprovoked, I let Chaz get me in trouble and fuck another woman all because I came to Vegas and put down a bunch of money and then Chaz told me to get back at Marilyn for being such a controlling bitch. Never mind that Marilyn just wants what's best for me and doesn't want me to get into trouble. After all, we worked through the time she slept with her tutor, and it's not like she-

Wait, that's right. Now I remember. Marilyn's still a cheating bitch. She did it again. And last night was revenge. I got back at the bitch for cheating on me, by cheating on her.

Well, that doesn't make it right. I should be the bigger person.

Of course, then again, she did it twice. And God-knows-how-many other times.

But then again, she pretty much owns me, and I better do what she wants. That means no other women. After all, I need that job. I had a lot of trouble lining up a job, and I'm so sick of school that grad school isn't a viable option. I mean, it's not like I can just jump ship, call off the wedding, and-

Then I hear Chaz entering. Fuck, I think. Not how I want him to see me.

"Dude, it's eleven in the damn morning. Let's go get some food and-are these your pants?" Probably, I think, looking down as I sit up, covering myself with the sheet. "Oh my God, you did it! You actually sealed the deal!" He reaches up for a high-five, one I reluctantly give. "I told you she was into you, dude. Fuck yes, you're a lady-killer!"

I look up at him, but he seems to be looking next to me - and he picks up a piece of paper. As he reads it, his eyes widen. "Dave - The girls and I were hungry so we got ready and headed out. You wouldn't wake up or we'd join you. Here's my number; let's hook up later. Cherise." He gets this crazy-excited look. "You," he pauses, "are a god now." He hands me the paper, and I get up, covering myself in the sheet, and grab my clothes. "Go ahead and get a shower and let's go eat. We all need to swap stories."

For once, I feel OK about what I just did. I have no idea what to tell Marilyn, but that's a problem I have a long time to think about. She doesn't know about Cherise, and I'd like to keep it that way.

After I get out of the shower, I check my phone - oh fuck. Thirty-six missed calls, fourteen texts, and I can't even count the voicemails. All from Marilyn. Starting at about six this morning - nine her time.

I go through the voicemails - escalating in anger as time passes - and as I finish deleting the last one and disconnect, Marilyn calls me - for the thirty-seventh time. I brace myself - and answer.

"When I call you," she shouts, "you answer! You got it?" I sit stunned. "Answer me!" I recover for a moment but say nothing. "I said answer me!" She screeches into the phone, almost hurting my ear.

"Are you done now?" I reply, almost taunting her - she rips a shrill scream into the phone and I hear her stomping her feet in the background. "You will behave! You will behave! You will answer when I call! Now get on a plane home now! You are in big trouble when I-"

"Will you shut up?" I shout back.

"Don't tell me to shut up!" she screams.

"Look-"

"Do not interrupt!" she shouts.

"Call back when you calm down!" I shout back and hang up, seething. I storm out of the suite, Cherise's note in hand, and immediately look for somewhere to eat.

(Saturday afternoon, 1 pm, Planet Hollywood)

I step out of my room after changing my clothes and spending the last two hours trying to calm down; let's just say that breakfast did not do the job. Marilyn, of course, called back eight times while I was eating - I never answered. I've gone from seeing red and wanting to reach through the phone and strangle her to just thinking, fuck that bitch.

I have no idea what I'm going to do for work if Marilyn and I don't get married. I could always move back home and work someplace doing shit work if I have to. I have no illusions about Cherise ever landing me any kind of meaningful work, but at least I'm having fun this weekend and enjoying life for another day until I go back to Ohio and my life goes back to being a pile of shit with a side order of a cheating fiancee.

Whatever, I think, as I head out of my room to the elevator. I have a thousand dollars in black chips in my pocket. Time to have some fun.

Then suddenly, someone seems to be pulling at me - and the next thing I know, I stumble into an open stairwell having no idea what's going on, and before I can look up, the door shuts - and there she is.

"Cherise, what the-"

"Good to see you again, Dave," she answers, grinning.

"Look, about last night," I exasperate, "that was a one-time thing. I was working things out. It can't happen again."

"OK," she answers. "Be cool." And without another word, she drops down to her knees and reaches for my zipper - and before I can react, I'm at her mercy.

"What the fuck, Cherise?" I stammer. "I told you-"

"I know what you said," she responds, simply removing my manhood from my boxers.

"Then stop," I order.

"You ever notice, Dave," she opines, "then your dick gets hard the second you see me?" And without another word, she takes my cock and starts sucking it.

I look down at her working my shaft over with her skilled mouth, quivering with pleasure as she works her magic. Damn, she's good. And what a great ass, I think as I see the pronounced whale tail underneath her jeans - this time it's a bold red g-string.

"Fuck yes, Cherise," I moan. "Suck my cock," I demand, not sure if she hears me.

She continues to work me over, taking as much of me in her mouth as she can handle, my exposed body pinned against the wall. I don't see any cameras, but getting in trouble would be worth it for this.

She shakes her ass as she sucks me, showing off her amazing skill as I softly moan. I try to keep my voice down, knowing other people on the stairwells don't need to know I'm getting a blowjob but also knowing I won't be stopping her no matter what.

She works faster and slicker as I feel her readying me to blow my load. She speeds up, and I feel my whole body go numb with pleasure. I moan incoherently, almost mumbling as she keeps sucking me, drawing me to the point of climax.

"Oh fuck yes," I mutter as she prepares to take my load; like a skilled cocksucker, she takes it all in her mouth, licking it off my shaft as I lean back and enjoy the orgasm she's just given me.

She licks her lips and zips me back up, smirking at me. I just relax for a moment as she stands back up, kisses me on the cheek, and whispers, "I'll see you soon." Then, without another word, she heads through the door and catches an elevator while I just wait in the stairwell, still in ecstasy.

It's barely two minutes later, though, that I receive a text message that snaps me back into reality. Fuck, Marilyn, go the hell away, I think as I grab my phone, expecting a hate-filled message.

Then I breathe a bit of a relief - it's not her. I don't recognize the number right away, so I read it, expecting spam. Then I read it: "Roulette table, lingerie pit, two hours. See you soon. Cherise"

(Saturday afternoon, Planet Hollywood casino floor)

I look at my stack of black chips - ten of them, each worth $100 and all of them won on this table last night - and prepare to part with them. I can't imagine having a lucky streak like last night again, so I figure either I'll just lose them or Cherise won't show up and I can play something else.

She's late - of course. I find a nearby video poker machine and stick a $20 bill in and play a dollar a hand. I lose five hands in a row, but at least a waitress stops by and serves me a beer while I wait for Cherise. I really would like to talk with her about what she does, not that I have any illusions of doing it myself. I just need a break from the real world, and a woman living her dream is a breath of fresh air from the wet blanket that is Marilyn,

I sip my beer for a moment and press the button for a new hand - fuck me, I think. Twenty dollars down the drain. I accidentally hit the "Bet Max" button - so my remaining $15 is all on this hand. The draw? A jack of clubs and nothing else worth keeping. Well, damn, I think, as I press the button to keep that card and throw the rest back - and then it hits me. That familiar voice.

"Hey there, sexy." Cherise kisses me on the cheek again, shocking me back into my Vegas reality. I smile and look up at her as she gives me her trademark smirk. "Those cards suck," she laughs as she presses the Draw button.

I look at the screen - son of a bitch, I don't believe it. I watch as four clubs come up on the screen, earning me money for a flush. Then I take a closer look at it - this is no ordinary flush.

Cherise's eyes light up and she lets out a crazy noise, somewhere between a drunk girl's "Wooooooooo!" and a joyous laugh. These are not ordinary clubs; I just hit the damn royal flush and made a shitload of money on one hand of video poker. And to think, it was all an accident. I look at the pay table, one that pays $800 for every dollar on the royal.

"Do you know how much money this is worth?" she asks - I figure it up in my head quickly and it comes to twelve thousand dollars. "You're buying dinner," she chuckles as she kisses me on the lips passionately and I melt into the kiss. Fuck, this girl is wonderful.

We wait for an attendant to come over and sort everything out, take taxes for the payout, and get me set up to have the rest put in my bank account - all the while, Cherise sits in my lap, enjoys my beer, and kisses me. I look in her gorgeous green eyes as we wait for me to get paid - it works out to a little under ten grand in my bank account - and I think to myself, fuck, I'm in love.

As we get finished up, I pick up Cherise in my arms, carrying her as she wraps her hand around my neck for security. "I have an idea." She looks at me puzzled. "You play blackjack?" She does. "Well, come with me."

I take her to the high limit room and sit at a table for a hundred bucks a hand. The dealer, an attractive black woman named Michelle who's probably in her early 30s, burns a card and smiles as she takes our money. I grab my roulette winnings from last night and put out a black chip.

"I never play in here," Cherise tells me. "I usually play lower limits. This isn't my game, really."

"Yeah?" I reply. "Well, I'm feeling lucky."

As Michelle turns up two cards for me, Cherise whispers in my ear, "Let's see how lucky you are. And even if you lose," she pauses, "you're getting lucky later." Fuck, I want to bend her over the blackjack table and fuck her now.

My luck might be running out, though - a ten and a six for me and an ace for the dealer. Michelle offers me insurance; I don't take it. She checks for blackjack - not there.

"What do you think?" asks Cherise as I think about my options for a second. Reaching over Cherise, who's still in my lap, I tap the table for a card - Michelle turns me up a four, and I wave her off and take my twenty. She turns up the card underneath - a six, for a total of seventeen, and pays me.

I win the next two hands and chat up Michelle a bit; she's quite attractive, but my attention is on Cherise. I'm working almost entirely with my left hand because my right is supporting Cherise, and as I look over the goddess in my lap, I get a devilish thought in my head and slide my hand down her back, sliding it underneath her jeans,

"You're so bad," she whispers as I feel my heart race a bit.

"You have no idea," I whisper back.

Michelle chimes in. "Are the two of you dating or something?"

"No, nothing like that," Cherise interjects before I can speak. "We met last night. He's my good luck charm." Of course, at this point, she's my good luck charm.

Cherise whispers in my ear, "Bet it all." I look at her funny - I have $1,500 in black chips. "Trust me, baby." She kisses me again, sliding her tongue in my mouth, and at that moment, I'm all hers.

I pile up my chips in the betting circle, and Michelle starts dealing - a queen of spades to me, a card face-down to her, and then I watch as she plops down an ace on my queen - blackjack, or a 3-2 payoff on this crazy bet.

Then Michelle turns up the first card - another ace. Again, she offers insurance. Then she adds something else - "Even money?" I can take an even payout and make $1,500 on the hand rather than risk not winning anything if Michelle turns up a face card.

Cherise adjusts her seat in my lap, straddling my rock-hard cock, one that's been stiff since she kissed me at the video poker machine. She smiles and tells me, "Go for it. She doesn't have it."

Well, she was right about the bet, so I listen to her again - no even money. Since I'm the only one at the table, Michelle simply flips up the card - it's a four. She picks out four purple chips worth $500 apiece and pairs them with some black and green ones, sending me $2,250. I look at my total - an insane amount of money.

Cherise looks at me, smiling, and kisses my neck. Damn, this girl can turn me on any way she wants. Then she looks at me, grabs my chips, and puts all of them in the betting circle - every single chip. "After we win," she whispers to me, "color up and fuck me."

She doesn't have to tell me twice, as I watch Michelle send me two more cards - two jacks, which I waive off against her eight. Then I look as she turns over her hole card - fuck, I think as she turns up a three for eleven. If she draws a face card, I lose it all.

I grab the table nervously as she slides over the draw card, sweating bullets, wondering if I even want to fuck Cherise after a loss like that. But then again, I just won twelve grand on video poker; I can't be that upset.

Then she turns up the card - a seven. She has eighteen. I win $3,750, and Michelle converts it to big chips totaling $7,500. I hand over my player's card for comp purposes, and Michelle grins as Cherise and I head out, my chips going straight in my pocket and the two of us making a beeline for my room.

(Saturday afternoon, Planet Hollywood hotel room)

The door closes, and I pin Cherise against the wall, tearing her top off as she does the same to me. I unhook her bra in record time as I tongue-wrestle with her, not even thinking about what we're doing. My bare chest presses against her firm, perfect DDDs while I kiss her. Fuck, this girl's amazing.

I undo her jeans, and she quickly removes them as my pants come off next, and immediately we head for the bed, my boxers dropping along the way as she has me naked. I squeeze her round, amazing ass as I slide down her g-string, stripping her naked.

I wrap my naked body around hers, as close to her as I can get. as I slide my cock into her eager pussy. She rides me, pinning me down on the bed as she kisses me deeply, her breasts pressed against me as I hold onto her perfect ass.

She bounces on my cock as I thrust into her, muffling her passionate moans with my tongue in her mouth. I can't get enough of her. I need her.

Every thrust brings a louder moan as she entwines her body with mine, her tight pussy giving my eager cock the most intense pleasure of my life. No one fucks like this - she's almost supernatural.

She breaks the kiss and starts kissing my neck with insane skill, giving me hickies as she rides my shaft balls-deep. I don't even think about how I'll have to explain this to Marilyn when I get home. Whatever she does, this is worth it.

I force my cock in as deep as possible, the very beginning of an orgasm starting to form. I look for her g-spot, wanting to give her the same pleasure she's giving me - and from her increasing screams, it's working. She pushes me down, kissing me and screaming into my eager mouth.

The orgasm builds as her screams intensify, her body pressed into mine as I prepare to shoot my load deep inside her. I pull her closer to me by her ass cheeks, pushing my shaft all the way in her tight pussy and enjoying her orgasmic screams. I look into her eyes, a deep abyss of passion and insanity from this goddess who's making me lose my mind.

"Cum for me!" she demands as I do as she wants, climaxing as her orgasm finishes off. I lay back, relaxing a bit as she falls on top of me, her entire body weight pressed against me. I want nothing more than everything she's doing. All I can think about is how amazing she makes me feel.

My mind a complete blank, I lay with her, holding her close, and let her kiss me. She slides her tongue across mine, a soft moan off her lips. Neither of us can even speak, nor do we need to say anything.

For what feels like forever, I lay in bed with Cherise, naked and holding her tight. We don't talk, just looking in each other's eyes, not wanting to move. I know I get a few texts, and I don't even care. Cherise gets one or two, and she doesn't look either. All I want is her.

After what feels like several hours of this. Cherise smiles, kisses me on the cheek, and climbs off of me, reaching for her jeans. "You know, it can't be all fucking between us," she starts, the first words either of us has spoken in a while. "I'm a businesswoman. And I need to know about you. If there's nothing behind that huge dick, I can't keep this up. So," she pauses, "tell me about you. I want to know what you're like as a businessman."

I tell her everything I know - my acumen for numbers, my background knowledge of the casino industry, and the work I did in college related to the casino in my hometown. I tell her about the job I have lined up - she's not at all impressed by the work or the salary Marilyn's father is paying me. I'm starting to realize I can never do anything like this on that kind of salary.




Always Bet On Black



The conversation lasts about an hour, and it's just as amazing as any conversation I've ever had. Granted, I've never had a job interview from a woman I just fucked, one who sat and talked to me in just a g-string. I don't know if Cherise is just fucking with me, but I'm enjoying myself.

"I'm impressed with you, Dave," Cherise concludes as she snaps her bra on and I put on my pants. "Tell you what. We're all meeting tonight outside the Bellagio for a limo ride. I want you there at seven." I agree immediately, and she kisses me on the cheek after she finishes getting dressed, smiling. "I'll see you tonight, handsome." She walks out the door, wiggling her ass, and I sigh a bit, realizing I'm in love - and not with my bitch of a fiancee.

I get out my phone and text Chaz: "Outside the Bellagio at seven. Trust me on this one."

(Saturday evening, outside Bellagio)

I send Marilyn a text message, essentially telling her to fuck off, and meet Cherise just outside the door, and damn am I happy to see her. I kiss her on the cheek and look her over - As always, she looks gorgeous, and she lets me peek under her jeans - this time, the g-string is black.

"Our ride's here," she says right off, grabbing my hand and walking me over to the line of cars - then my jaw drops. She's ordered a massive stretch limousine. I was expecting a limo, and I've never been in a limo before - that cheapskate Marilyn wouldn't dream of anything like this, even for the wedding - but Cherise goes all-out. This thing could house my school's entire football team with room to spare.

I slide inside, and everything is beautiful. There's a bottle of champagne on ice, a cooler full of drinks, a couple of pizzas - I look at Cherise, stunned.

"You do know this isn't all for us, right? she chuckles. No, I really don't know - I just think maybe she's the coolest woman on Earth.

A couple of minutes later, the limo fills up - friends of hers as well as Chaz and my other friends. Chaz has Molly on his arm, and Cherise's friend Monet is joined by a woman I think I recognize - upon closer inspection, it's Michelle from the high limit table, dressed in a tank top and cutoffs. She's looking hot as hell, but no one looks hotter than Cherise.

"So where are we going?" I ask.

"We're taking this limo all through downtown," she tells me. "We have a few surprises for you guys. Especially you, Dave.."

The limo takes off, and I see the sun starting to set over the Strip. I see Molly all over Chaz, Monet and Michelle getting cozy with what appears to be each other, and Cherise rides in my lap, sipping a glass of champagne she's sharing with me. I lean back, relax, watch the lights, and enjoy Cherise wiggling in my lap. I couldn't be happier.

We roll into downtown Las Vegas, somewhere between 4 Queens and the Golden Nugget...I'm not really paying attention. Then Cherise leans over to talk to me.

"I know it's loud," she whispers, somewhat loudly, "but I wanted to ask you a few things." Meanwhile, she's in my lap, grinding against me, and my cock is firmly at attention. I'll fuck her right here if she wants me to. "What do you think of coming out here to Vegas and helping me build one of these?"

Wait, did she just ask me a business question when we're one step away from fucking in a limo? "What do you mean?" I ask.

"I need a man to run my next project, Dave," she answers. "You have a great mind for numbers and I know you know your stuff." Meanwhile, her ass is firmly planted against my cock, slowly grinding. She sips a bit of champagne as she looks into my eyes.

We return to the north end of the Strip, a little past the Stratosphere, in what appears to be an empty lot. "See that lot there, Dave?" I look out at it - it doesn't look like much but it's big. "I own that. Well, Monet and I do, along with a couple of other people. We're building a casino here. I've looked everywhere for people to help me run it." Wait, is she offering me a job? "If you accept, you'll be my director of finance. And trust me, I pay a hell of a lot better than your fiancee's old man."

I look at the lot as the limo is stopped, my head almost pressed against the glass. I sit there, thinking how this could all be mine. Is she bullshitting me? She owns this?

"You don't have to decide now. I have an offer letter ready to send you this week. In fact, when is your wedding?" This Saturday, late morning. "I'll have a car come pick you up from your wedding and get you out here to fill everything out next Saturday." 

I genuinely don't know what to say. I'm not sure if this is for real, but I do know I'm having a lot of second thoughts about marrying Marilyn. And I know that, if there's no wedding, there's no job. And I have nothing else. I might as well go for this if I don't get married.

Before I know it, we're pulled up to just outside the Aria, and people start piling out. Chaz has Molly on his arm while Monet and Michelle pair up with two guys. I get up to head out, figuring dinner and trying to find a place here to bend Cherise over and fuck her - and then she grabs my hand.

"You're staying," Cherise commands. Everyone else piles out, and I smile and sit next to her in a wide-open limo, one with empty pizza boxes and beer bottles from everyone else. And I didn't even get a taste.

"You ever fuck a girl in the back of a limo?" she asks - needless to say, I'm naked in record time and so is she, our tongues almost never departing each other's mouths. Her matching black bra and g-string are halfway across the limo, and I have her bent over the back seat, ready to take her.

I penetrate her fast and deep, fucking her balls-deep and grabbing her DDDs, pulling her close to me. I kiss the back of her neck, wrapping my neck to the front of hers, her sensuous moans right in my ear. I'm not taking it easy on her at all, and I know she doesn't want me to.

She grands her big ass back into me as I fuck her tight pussy, her screams increasing in volume. I've never felt as close to anyone as I do to her right now.

Soon her mouth meets mine in a deep, sustained, passionate kiss, our tongues together as I fuck her hard and deep. My tongue muffles her moans a bit but I can't stop her. I squeeze her breasts, her back pressed against my chest, as I ride her over the seat. I squeeze as right as I can and kiss her deeper and faster, my cock riding her as fast and deep as I can go.

"Fuck yes, Dave," she cries out, "give it to me. Give it to me good, baby," she demands. I feel her tightening around me like the pro she is, her ass pressed against me as I pound her tight snatch with abandon. I feel total power over her, her voluptuous DDDs in the palms of my hands. She's mine.

I bite her neck, eliciting a scream from her and a quick smile - at that point, I know I can get as rough as I want. I throw her body over the seat and slap her round ass and call out, "Shake it for me, bitch," and she does as I command while I vigorously spank her round, gorgeous ass.

"I can get rough too, Dave," she whispers as I turn her over on her back - she grabs me, pulls me close, and we fall onto the floor, my cock never leaving her incredibly tight pussy for a second, and again I'm on my back, the way she likes it. She pins me down and rides me, straddling my body as I look up at her gorgeous, bouncing body towering over me.

I pull her down to me by her hips and spank her ass again; she responds by slapping me right across the face. I look up at her and grin, pulling her down and planting a hickie right on her neck. She does the same, sucking on my neck and giving me one, too.

"Now give it to me, Dave," Cherise commands, shouting. "Fucking cum for me!" She pins me back down as I grab her ass, ready to cum once again at her command, giving her exactly what she wants.

At the same time, she bounces on my cock, ready for an orgasm of her own, her DDDs pressed against me while her ass shakes for me. I fill her snatch up with everything I have while she shouts uncontrollably right in my face, muffling the screams a bit by diving her tongue in my mouth.

Exhausted, I melt into the kiss, lying on the floor with Cherise on top of me, more satisfied than I've ever been in my life. I look in her eyes and smile, not wanting to move or have this moment ever end; she gives me a look that tells me she's thinking the same thing.

After a few minutes, though, we do get dressed, still giggling and talking about the experience in the back of the limo, which makes a stop. I look out at my surroundings, not having paid attention at all to where we were going - we're at the airport. What the hell's going on here?

"Dave, this weekend has been the best of my life," Cherise tells me. "I wish it didn't have to end. But I have to catch a red-eye to Miami tonight; I'm buying a strip club." On Sunday morning? "I have to do it when no one's there, and the only time the owner and my attorney can make it is tomorrow morning. That's life when you're a businesswoman, you know." She smiles at me. "But so is all this."

She kisses me on the lips and climbs out of the limo, and when I try to follow her, she stops me. "I arranged it to take you back to Planet Hollywood. But we'll be in touch about that casino job." She hands me her business card, smiles, and kisses me again before an attendant takes her luggage.

I ask the driver to wait a minute before we leave, slipping him a $10 bill to wait as a tip - he gladly takes it, likely understanding I just want to watch Cherise walk away. She blows me a kiss on the way out, the only time I take my eyes off her amazing ass.

(Saturday night, Planet Hollywood casino floor)

I put out another $25 green chip on the blackjack table, looking somewhat bored as Chaz bets a black $100 chip two seats over. This shoe is killing me, but thankfully I cut back to quarters instead of betting big like I have been all day. I'm already up nearly twenty grand for this trip, which is mind-blowing considering I've only spend $40 of my own money.

"Fourteen," the dealer, an older man named Ron, tells me - I look at his card, a seven, and tap the table for a hit, my chin not leaving my other hand. He plops down a four for a total of eighteen, which I waive off along with Chaz's identical total.

Ron turns up his hole card, a six, and I think to myself that I have this - until he draws an eight for a total of twenty-one and takes my bet. I mindlessly stick another green $25 chip out there to bet again as Chaz bets another chip.

"It's that girl, dude," chimes in Chaz. "I know. Never let her break your heart."

"It's not that," I fire back. "I just-"

"Dude, you can't get married next week." Well, what the hell else am I going to do? "Cherise is amazing. Look at you. You came here acting like a complete asshole, then you met her, she rocked your world, she helped you win money, and more importantly, she made you happy." He tapes the table to his his total of thirteen, gets a face card, and busts, losing his $100. "Did Marilyn make you this happy?"

"Cherise is a fantasy," I counter. "She's a mirage. She's not even real." I hit my eight, getting sixteen, which I waive off against the dealer's four. "I have to be realistic here. And that's why I have to get married and work for her old man." Ron turns up a six and then a jack, taking my money.

A waitress comes by and offers drinks, and I order a beer, and as I do, my phone rings, I step away from the table and answer it - it's Marilyn. I brace for the worst.

"Hey!" she responds enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you answered. I was afraid you ran off and decided you didn't want to get married after I yelled at you earlier." I try to diffuse the situation and change the subject - fortunately I looked up the score to the baseball game I was supposed to be at, so I could talk about it without making it clear I'm in Vegas. "I wanted to tell you...I'm really sorry about that. I'm actually embarrassed. I know I've been hard on you, and you don't deserve it." No shit. "I promise I'll be better until we get married, and after that, I'll be the best wife I can be. No more incidents like with my tutor." I bite my tongue about her friend's ex - no point in letting her know I know until the time is right.

I end the call quickly as the crowd gets louder, something I chalk up to postgame traffic - she buys it. I sit back down to my beer and the blackjack game - at least I manage to win the next two hands. But I find myself with a wandering mind, going back and forth between my life with Marilyn and this fantastic experience with Cherise. I don't know what to do. I know I can't talk to Cherise about it; she's on her way to Miami. And I sure as hell can't talk to Marilyn about it.

So I color up and head back up, and Chaz stops me. "Listen," he starts, actually being genuine. "This weekend is more than just a fantasy. Don't throw it away because you're comfortable. Think about it." He walks away from the table, leading me. "If you bet on what you know, you get a shitty job, an asshole boss who can control you 24/7 through his cheating daughter, and nothing more than a great weekend and a reminder of what could have been." He stops at a roulette table, taking a stack of chips and setting it down - on black. "Or you can go with Cherise. She's sexy, she's fun, she's got money, and she can make you rich as hell and crazy happy. And if she doesn't? At least you lived."

The ball drops in the wheel - the dealer calls it. "Twenty-six black!" he calls out, paying Chaz.

"I guess what I'm trying to tell you is," he tells me, grabbing his newly fattened stack of chips, "always bet on black."

It's a lot to think about, yes. It was a great weekend. But Cherise just up and left after another great fuck. And since when do I take advice from Chaz? I don't know. I guess I just have to do what I have to do.

And I'm realizing that means I'll be at the church next Saturday, ready to get married.

(The next Saturday, Columbus, church)

It's been a mind-wracking week. I've had a lot to think about. I've thought to myself about working things out with Marilyn - she doesn't know I know she cheated again and she certainly doesn't know about Cherise; as far as I'm concerned, we're even in that regard - and I've decided it's best that I'm here.

And as I stand at the front of the church, my parents' eyes locked on me, Chaz as my best man, I know I'm making the right decision. Chaz has been very supportive, even happy for me. I guess he's figured out I have something he doesn't think he ever can. I hope, for his sake, he gets it, though.

Marilyn and I have had a few fights this week, but I held my own, and she backed down all but one time. So yes, I think we can make this work.

I watch her maid of honor walk down the aisle with a bouquet, knowing she and her father will be next. I see the smile on her face, her poor, oblivious face, obviously clueless about what Marilyn did. But I guess a good husband would keep her secret. After all, if I'm the one she hurt the worst...well, enough on that subject. The music is about to change and I'm about to get married.

She really does look beautiful. Her gown is a shimmering white, her hair is well-manicured, and she appears to have thought of everything. For once, she's smiling. She's so graceful, so at ease. I wish I could say the same for her father, who looks constipated.

The preacher, the one she grew up with, starts into his "Dearly beloved, yada yada" spiel. I hear him but I'm tuning him out, mainly because we went over it already but partially because these shoes are uncomfortable. I hope I'm not letting that on too much.

"If anyone has reason why these two should not be wed," the preacher continues, "speak now or forever hold your peace." It's nothing more than a formality, in case some schmuck decides to make a spectacle or someone knows something the rest of us don't.

It's also my cue.

I raise my hand - instantly every head in the sanctuary turns. I'm calling bullshit on my own wedding.

The preacher turns to me, and I take the microphone off his robe to speak. "Underneath every seat here, there is an envelope. I'd like everyone to take it out."

A few people follow my cue, including a couple of my cousins. "Go on, folks; take a look. Open if up. Everyone needs to see this." Marilyn's gone from happy to disgusted within a matter of seconds. Her father? Pure rage.

Inside the envelopes? Those pictures on Chaz's phone of her going into the motel room with the maid of honor's ex - and just so there's no ambiguity, there's a few pictures of them in the motel room bed together.

"What is going on here?" shouts Marilyn's father. "What did you do, ruining my daughter's wedding with this...spectacle!"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" I ask him, mockingly, at which point my parents walk over to him with a stern look and shove the pictures in his face. He takes a look at them - after shuffling through them, he immediately throws them on the floor and storms up to the altar, where I see Marilyn about ready to explode and the poor preacher looking for an exit.

"What business do you have taking these pictures?" he demands, getting right up in my face.

"Ask her," I snap. "I'm not the one who raised a whore."

At this point, he lunges for me in a fit of rage - thinking quickly, I swing my leg, landing my foot right in his crotch and giving him a perfect nut-shot. He goes down like a ton of bricks.

I lean down to him, grinning. "About that job," I taunt, "shove it up your ass. I don't want it. Find another flunkie."

Marilyn throws back her veil as I rise back up, looking up at me with a fiery look. "Stop ruining my day!" she demands. "Now stand up here and marry me!"

"I don't think so," I chuckle back. "Not after what you did. With her ex." Her poor, oblivious maid of honor. "I should explain," I continue, turning away from Marilyn and to the maid of honor, who's the other victim. "Those pictures are of Marilyn having sex with your dumbass ex-boyfriend. The time stamp on most of them is from about two weeks ago. But there's a few in there from Thursday. I hired a private detective to follow you. I guess you thought I wouldn't find out."

Marilyn's face is beet-red at this point. I think she's ready to attack me. "You're lying!" she shouts, apparently thinking of nothing else to shout. "How can you afford a private detective! Did that stupid friend of yours do this?"

"No," I laugh back. "I did. With my winnings."

"What winnings?" Oh, right. "You gambled in Cleveland? You know I hate that!"

"In Cleveland?" At this point, I'm holding back laughter. "Fuck no." This draws even more ire - she hates cursing. "I won a bunch of money in Vegas last weekend. You didn't really think I went to Cleveland, did you?"

"That's it!" she screams, almost shrill. "Stand up here and marry me. Then apologize to my father and get your job back. And then you're moving in with me and you're on my watch! You don't do anything unless I say you do! No more going out! No more gambling! And no more Chaz! Or I'll make sure no one ever hires you!"

"That's rich, Marilyn," I tease. "I don't need anyone to hire me. Because someone did while I was out there. In fact," I continue, "I have to go. I'm on my way out there now."

I turn and walk back down the aisle, leaving her and her father in the dust. I see her try to follow me - her heels slow her down, so she never catches me until we get outside.

She blocks my path. "You will not walk out on me!" I ignore her and try to sidestep her - again, she blocks me in. "I own you! Now get in there!" Her father catches up to us again, so I'm totally blocked in.

At this point, a black car pulls up and the window rolls down, and out steps a man in a suit.

"Dave?" he calls out - I raise my hand. "I'm your ride."





Always Bet On Black



"He's not going anywhere!" shouts Marilyn. She averts her attention to the driver while her father stands in my way.

I smile at him and shove him out of the way, and when he fights back, I look back at him. "You want to do this the easy way of the hard way, bitch?" He doesn't respond and doesn't move, so I grab his shirt collar and pull him out of the way, heading over to the car while Marilyn continues to scream and yell.

I climb in the back and give her the finger on my way to the airport. Quickly after that, my phone rings - it's thankfully not Marilyn.

"Dave, it's Monet, Cherise's friend." Oh, good. "We'll have a car get you at the airport. I hope the Aria's all right for a room for the next few days." Hell yes it is. "And let's just say Cherise told us everything." Us? "And we do mean everything. Let me just say, Cherise may be a dream for you," she goes on, "but she's basic. She won't do what I do."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," I reply, baffled.

"Baby," she answers, "you'll see Cherise, all right. But you'll see me and Michelle first." The dealer from high limit. "Meet us at the roulette table tonight. And Dave?" she asks. "Always bet on black."



Always Bet On Black Ch. 02



(Saturday night, Las Vegas strip)

I've only been to Vegas twice - once last weekend and once right now. The first time, I didn't even want to go, only going to shut up my best friend Chaz, who's more than a little reckless. He set up a bachelor party under the guise of going to Cleveland to misdirect my fiancee Marilyn, who would have been a little bit nervous about her man going as far away from home as Las Vegas.

This time? I'm leaving that cheating whore in the dust - on our wedding day, no less. I exposed her as the whore she is, and then I hitched a ride to the airport, hopped a plane to Vegas, and had another driver come get me for another amazing time. And this time, I don't know if I'm ever going home.

I look all around me from the back of a Town Car, one much like the one that brought me to the airport back home in Columbus, Ohio, which might as well be Mars as far away as it feels. It's not dark out, so I relax, looking around me at all the people on the Strip, the attractive women in short dresses, and the lit-up signs. But I can't get too comfortable. I have one thing on my mind, and that's trying to impress two - no, three - gorgeous black women.

The car pulls up to the Aria, and I hand the driver a nice tip and walk in wearing a sharp-looking suit, feeling like a Vegas millionaire - and after last weekend, I'm not too far off from becoming one.

I stroll in, looking the place over - it's beautiful, even compared to Planet Hollywood, where I spent most of last weekend - and head straight for the casino floor, making a move for the roulette tables, where I am meeting two very important women.

And there they are, I think as I spot the first table in the pit, populated by a few loud gamblers as well as two demure, beautiful women in cocktail dresses, coolly placing bets.

I walk up and a brunette waves her hand over the table, calling, "No more bets," as Monet watches a smallish stack of black chips on the layout - on black, of course - as I see her watching the wheel intently, unaware that I am there. Michelle locks onto the wheel as well, tuning out everything around her - her bets are split between black and the high numbers from what I can tell.

"Twenty black!" calls out the dealer - Rachel, according to her name tag - as she collects the losing bets and dishes out stacks of black chips to Monet and green ones to Michelle.

Finally, Monet grabs her chips and looks over - and sees me right in front of her. Smiling, she wraps her arms around me and kisses me on the cheek.

"I guess you're lucky after all," she opens. "Let's see how lucky I can make you later."

"No," interrupts Michelle, who also greets me with a kiss on the cheek. "Let's see how lucky we can make him. If Cherise told us anything, it was...well, let's just say you're equipped."

I give them an "Oh, stop" look and throw down $500 on the table to buy in, deciding to play nickels, or $5 chips. I slide a stack of them on black and place a handful on 24 for my birthday and 13 for Cherise's. Monet takes a stack of my chips, worth about $25, and puts them down on 17 - drawing a strange look from me. "June 17." Tomorrow's date. What about it? "My 28th birthday. Trust me on it." Umm, happy birthday, I guess?" I decide to put down a few nickels on 28 as well, to a smile from Monet as Rachel spins the ball.

"Glad you made it here," Monet continues, as I look her over - not as tall or curvy as Cherise and a bit lighter-skinned; also, her hair is curly and down to her mid-back. She's beautiful, to say the least. "Cherise told me all about your interview with her, too. She says you're really good with numbers." I guess we'll find out.

Rachel waves off any new bets over a couple of idiots' grubby hands, and finally the ball drops - and so does my jaw.

"Twenty-eight black!" I just made $900 - and I'm the only one on 28. I gather my chips - with a few $100 black chips to boot - and sit down next to Monet, ready to get to business.

"So what all did Cherise tell you?" I ask. "You know, besides us sleeping together and everything."

"Well, while we're here," she answers, "we can talk about the job. I know Cherise told you that you'll be the director of finance for our new casino. If you're good," she continues, "we'll make you the CFO. And even if not, I'm sure we can find a strip club for you to run or something." Then she leans into my ear and whispers, "And I'm not just talking about numbers."

I step back a bit. "Take it easy, Monet," I fire back at her. Rachel spins the ball in my absence - I still have my chips on 28 but have otherwise withdrawn my bets - and I look back at her. "I don't know what Cherise told you about me," I defensively argue, "but I don't just fuck anyone. You know what it took for me even to consider fucking Cherise?"

"Yes, we've all heard the story," counters Monet. "Your fiancee's a whore. We also know that video of you at the wedding is going on YouTube. I also know you're a free agent. So what's stopping you?"

I don't answer right away, but it's because I notice the ball is dropping - sure, I only have one bet out there, but I'm still curious. Monet has a strange look on her face, but she sees me locked on the wheel, seeming to think about her bets, and watches as the ball lands - I don't fucking believe it.

"Twenty-eight black!" My bet just won again, and I didn't even do anything. Once again, I'm the only one on 28, so I pocket $875 more from the bet as a stunned Monet watches me collect more chips.

At this point, I hear a familiar voice behind me. "Look at that!" shouts the energetic, inviting female voice. "My number hit twice!"

I turn around - there's Cherise. I smile as I see her approach, looking gorgeous as ever with a bold smile on her face, a black top partially baring her shoulders, those ass-hugging jeans that are a trademark of hers. She walks with a confident swagger, approaching quickly and flipping her hair back.

She whips off her sunglasses and slides them in her purse as I walk over to greet her, meeting her for a warm embrace, feeling like never letting her go. My arms fit so perfectly around her, and hers around mine, as she presses her body into me. As I hold her close to me, she whispers in my ear:

"You're getting lucky tonight, stud."

I kiss her on her voluptuous lips and return the whisper: "Why wait?"

We break the embrace and walk back over to the table, hand in hand, grinning as I place a few bets and Cherise buys in - for five thousand dollars. I look stunned at her as she starts playing black $100 chips on the inside, reaching table maximum on several numbers. I follow every number she plays with my winnings, betting heavily on the inside, while Monet hangs back.

Monet looks at Cherise with a cold look. "Since when is 28 your number?" she snaps. "I turn 28 tomorrow. So I guess that means-"

"Give it a rest, Monet," fires back Cherise. "I'm already 28. Besides, Dave didn't even give you the time of day. Also," she continues, "I'll be handling bringing Dave on. Your part is done here."

Rachel spins the ball as I put my arm around Cherise, getting as close to her as I can without being downright indecent - damn am I happy to see her, and from the look on her face, she's just as happy to see me.

Rachel waves off new bets and I kiss Cherise on the neck, drawing a dirty look from Monet, and soon we watch the ball bounce around, off one of the diamond-shaped brass studs in the wheel, and into what appears to be 36 red - and back out.

Then I look on intently as it takes a weird spin - and circles around above that number, between 13 and 24, two numbers Cherise and I have table max on. Thirty-six red? Nothing - and we're both out over a thousand dollars if it lands there. I hold Cherise's hand tight, anxiously waiting as the ball circles around that number, waiting to drop.

I see Rachel go up to take the ball out - but then it starts to drop, heading straight for 36 red. Shit, I think - well, at least I've had a great run, and I can't realistically expect to continue this insane winning streak no matter how amazing my companion is.

The ball misses the dreaded 36 spot, appearing to fall on the bridge between 36 and 13. It bounces off the other end of the number slots - and finally it drops.

"Thirteen black!" calls out Rachel as both Cherise and I cheer, having made $3,500 each on that spin - minus losses, that's still over two grand.

"Pay me in purple!" I call out, and Cherise asks for the same. I count my chips - from a $500 buy-in, I now have over $4,000, and Cherise has over $7,000.

Monet looks on at us, somewhat resentfully, but Cherise and I continue to place our bets, spending as much time just looking at each other as actually playing.

After about an hour of giggling and playing, Cherise and I walk away from the table up a significant amount - I calculate that I'm up over $8,000 while Cherise walks out with an extra $10,000 - and we all head to a nice restaurant for dinner and business talk. I'm anxious to get the paperwork signed to make me the main finance person at Cherise's casino, even if I don't exactly need the money imminently; I'm just looking for something meaningful to do that pays better than anything I could have gotten with that cheating bitch Marilyn's old man.

Monet seems a bit upset throughout dinner, but it simply appears to be jealously - I guess she should have gotten to me first.

Cherise slides me over some papers. "I have the written job offer here." It's exactly as it's written - director of finance. "You start Monday. We break ground on the casino the same day. I need to get you working as quickly as possible. The digs are hardly what they'll be when we open, but we'll take good care of you."

I read the offer over, distracted a bit by Cherise's massive cleavage - her top is very low-cut. The offer is very attractive - in the neighborhood of a quarter-million a year to start, full benefits, four weeks of vacation plus sick time - and my responsibilities are pretty comprehensive. Granted, this type of position typically goes to someone with at least a decade of experience, so naturally, I'm a little confused.

"So just one thing before I sign," I ask. "Why me?"

"I need someone," she replies. "My last finance guy walked off the job without notice. I need someone who can handle the workload. Someone with a lot to prove. And I need someone who isn't just going back to his life the way my last guy did." Well, that part's true - I have nothing to go back to. "I chose you because you're brilliant. I can teach you. You don't have any bad habits already. Besides," she pauses, "we work really well together. We have great chemistry."

I peruse the clauses for compensation - if I stay a year, apparently I get part-ownership in the company - and I don't find anything that looks like a deal-breaker. So I eagerly sign the offer, hand it back to Cherise, and smile as our entrees arrive.

"So after dinner, do you want to head up to my suite and talk business," she asks, "or just go up and fuck?" I'm going to love this job, I think.

(Aria, presidential suite)

The door shuts behind us, and instantly I reach under Cherise's top, flinging it off and exposing her hot pink bra. Her jeans drop just as quickly - the g-string matches the bra, as usual - and Cherise tears my clothes off with the same speed.

I slide my tongue in her hot, sexy mouth, parting her full lips as I pin her against the wall, holding her hair with one hand and unhooking her bra with the other. Down to my boxers, I hold her close to me, her bare breasts against me, kissing her and caressing her tongue with mine.

We kiss for what feels like forever, passionately stroking each other's tongues, as I feel up her body pressed against mine. I run my hands along her back, so smooth and perfect, pulling her from the wall and pushing her toward the bed. I feel totally in control of her gorgeous body at this point, loving that she's letting me do anything I want to her.

She slides down my boxers before we get to the bed, and I slide my hands down to her perfect ass, dropping her g-string. I spin her around, throwing her down on the bed face-first, her ass up and all mine.

Without missing a beat, I start fucking her, pounding her eager wet pussy with my throbbing cock. Not messing around, I grab her by the hips and fuck her hard and deep. "Oh fuck!" she shouts, trailing off with a few more "fuck" moans as I pound her balls-deep.

Cherise is amazingly tight, especially for an experienced woman. "Fuck, you're huge!" she cries out as I vigorously pound away at her tight snatch, holding her hips as she rides my cock and shakes her bouncing ass for me.

I grab her ass cheeks, squeezing them - her ass is a bit too big for me to handle with just my bare hands, and I fucking love it - eliciting a louder moan from her. I look in her eyes, seeing her facing to the side with her mouth a bit open as she softly moans and her breasts shake a bit. I can tell she's lost in the moment, totally unable to do anything but take my cock deep.

Soon her moans intensify as she lifts up her voluptuous ass, placing herself on all fours as she rhythmically slaps her big ass into my cock. I grab her hips again, working my way up her body as I fuck her deep and hard.

Finally I reach her busty DDD breasts and wrap my hands around them, pulling her up to me. I turn her head and slide my tongue in her eager, moaning mouth, kissing her passionately as I feel up her breasts and pound away at her wet pussy with all my might. Cherise simply slides her tongue along mine, screaming with passion with every thrust and every move I make on her DDDs.

"Cum for me!" she shouts as she starts screaming uncontrollably, and I feel ready to oblige her, muttering a "Fuck yes" under my breath through the kiss. Within a few seconds, I start filling her up; she melts into a kiss while we both enjoy a wonderful orgasm in perfect sync, our bodies pressed together.

Even as we cool off, we continue kissing as Cherise leans back against me, her head resting on me as she strokes her tongue against mine. Cherise is a fantastic kisser, almost as good at kissing as she is at fucking and being insanely sexy.

After a few more minutes of bliss, she breaks the kiss and looks at me with a glowing smile. "So the night's young, Dave," she quips. "What do you want to do? Anything you always wanted to do out here in Vegas?"

"Well," I reply, "do we have the suite for the night?"

"Of course, if you don't mind Monet and Michelle having guys over in the other rooms," she continues - I don't mind a bit as long as they let me and Cherise do anything we want. I'm out of ideas for what to do, though, at least among ideas that don't involve shows, food, gambling, or another round with the woman I'm absolutely crazy about.

"I have an idea," she suddenly says. "An institution here in Vegas. I've taken a few guys here. And not all of them on business." I'm intrigued. "You ever hear of the Spearmint Rhino?" I haven't - I ask her about it. "You'll find out."

"What about all the stuff I have to do before I start work?" I ask.

"We got it all figured out." She practically cuts me off, as if to tell me to stop worrying, "Now come on, Dave. Let's get crazy."

(Saturday night around midnight, Spearmint Rhino)

The limo pulls up to the Spearmint Rhino, dropping off me and Cherise - and it turns out, Monet, Michelle, and a couple of guys they brought with them. I notice that Monet is barely looking at me, and the few looks she gives are little more than 'fuck you, Dave; look who I got instead.' It's hard to care, since my date makes her look weak no matter what guy she has with her.

The six of us stroll in, Cherise on my arm, and immediately grab a booth for the six of us - and it's barely a minute before we have a beautiful, shapely woman in bright blue lingerie looking over our table. I look her over - standing probably about 5'10" if I had to guess, not too different from Cherise - and she turns her eyes to me and sits down next to me.

"First time here?" she asks - I confirm it. "What's your name?" I tell her. "Mine's Memphis." Sure it is, I think - but then again, nothing on her looks real, her bleached hair, her fake breasts, her obviously made-up stage name. There isn't a single authentic thing about this girl except maybe her lack of intelligence - it takes her a good five minutes to figure out I'm completely ignoring her.

Another few minutes pass, and another dancer, one who calls herself Eva, walks up - focusing on the guy Michelle brought. I laugh as I see the exchange - Michelle's more interested in her than her date is. Of course, in my eyes, Michelle has a much better body than Eva does - I'll call her hot if she is no matter what. Not as hot as Cherise, of course, who's still getting almost all my attention.

Both Michelle and her date head off with Eva, and soon a waitress walks up and takes our drink orders. She speaks with a bit of a Southern accent and takes a quick liking to me.

"It's not like it is wherever you come from here," she tells me - her name, it turns out, is Amber. "Around here, it's all fun. It's not cheating. Besides, if you're here with your girlfriend, it's all good." I grin a bit, turn to Cherise, and she smiles back. "Is this your girlfriend?"

"Not exactly," I answer. "She's my new business partner."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she teases. "Come get a VIP dance. Don't be scared." She pauses and sees that Cherise has her arm around me. "Unless you're really more than just business partners."

"Well, if you must know," Cherise counters, "it's more of a friends-with-benefits thing."

"So that's what you're into," fires back Amber, looking at me. "Hold on. I have the girl for you."

It takes Amber a while - a while I spend looking at Cherise, kissing her, and waiting for my drink to arrive - and finally Amber arrives again with the whiskey sour I wanted, Cherise's Bacardi and lime, and something a little more appetizing. Make that someone.

I take a quick sip of my whiskey sour and Cherise samples her Bacardi and lime - both of us seem to approve of both the drinks and Amber's selection of dancers. The one she brings over is tall, voluptuous, has long, curly hair with highlights, big breasts, and legs that seem to go on forever. She's dark-skinned, somewhere between the lighter Monet and the dark-chocolate Cherise, and seems a bit more out of her element than the previous two dancers who walked up.

"So you're in town on business?" the dancer, who slides next to me as Amber continues about her work, begins.

"Well...not sure yet." I'm actually kind of unsure and never been around a stripper - needless to say, Marilyn would have lost her shit. "I'm enjoying being here."

"You're Dave, right?" I confirm it. "I'm Brooklyn. I'm actually pretty new here. I'm also the only black girl who's a dancer." She blushes a bit. "I see you're into black girls. What's your girlfriend's name?"

"She's not my girlfriend." It almost pains me to say this - after having a royal bitch of a fiancee, having a girlfriend who's as mind-blowingly awesome as Cherise would be...well, mind-blowingly awesome. "We're just really good friends. And business partners. You know that big vacant lot north of Sahara Avenue on the Strip?" She's new to Las Vegas, so she doesn't. "Cherise's company is building a casino on it. I handle the money."

She's intrigued by my story, but it doesn't stop her from inching closer to me - making a move into my lap after a few minutes. I give Cherise a "look at this" glance - she smiles. "You're taking her to VIP, right?" she asks.

"Ummm...hadn't thought about it," I ramble.

Monet butts in. "And if you don't, I am." I turn my head in a bit of shock. "What? She's hot. And you know your girl won't touch her." I'm completely baffled at this point.




Always Bet On Black Ch. 02



Cherise translates Monet's insane ramblings. "Unlike Monet, I don't eat pussy." I kind of don't think she does. "I just like hanging out, having a drink, and treating the guys who work with me to a good time." Then she leans in my ear. "And after she gets you warmed up, I'll take you someplace and fuck you senseless."

I lick my lips and turn to Brooklyn. "How much for VIP?" I down my drink, kiss Cherise, and head off to VIP with Brooklyn, whipping out $500 for the privilege. I walk a bit behind Brooklyn, who's wearing black stockings and shiny heeled shoes, and watch her ass shake in her bottoms - bikini cut at this point with a matching black bra.

I crack a smile as we saunter back to the VIP area as I get a glance at all I get to look forward to. Getting a little anxious, I lean into her and whisper, "I hope you don't mind if I touch."

Brooklyn gives me a bit of a shocked look. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

As we enter the VIP area, I reach down a bit - and grab her ass with my right hand. I half expect her to turn around and slap me and end up getting thrown out by two bouncers who are collectively three times my size. But today's my lucky day - she drops her bottoms, exposing a black g-string reminiscent of the ones Cherise wears. Her ass is amazing - not as full and round as Cherise's, but still full of bounce and very nice.

She sits me down, undoing some of my shirt buttons, and drops her bra to the floor, revealing a perfect pair of breasts that she doesn't mind shaking for me. Then, wasting no more time, she climbs in my lap and looks me right in the eyes.

"I'm about to blow your mind," she says softly, as I look her over and she gets right to work, rubbing her hands underneath my shirt.

Needless to say, my shirt doesn't stay buttoned - or on - for very long. Brooklyn soon has her smooth, sexy hands all over my chest as she raises her bare chest to eye-level for me. I want so badly to put my mouth all over those beautiful breasts but decide to restrain myself.

She kisses my chest as I start to feel up her bare breasts, squeezing them easily. She looks me in the eyes as I feel her up and reaches her hand in my lap - the next words out of her mouth are, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." She's right on more than one front - I'm hard as a rock.

She switches positions, placing her round, sexy ass in my lap, grinding it against my erect cock. She flips her hair back and looks me over, whispering, "I hope your girl can handle all this."

"You think you could handle it all?" I flippantly reply, working my cock against her ass-crack.

"Baby, you're huge," she answers, "But I can take it all."

"I bet you could," I fire back, continuing to grind against her, enjoying the feel of her voluptuous ass against my lap, my cock in a state of eager ecstasy needing to fuck. But even as Brooklyn works her magic on me, I know better than to take this any farther than a lap dance - she's sexy as hell, but I have a sexy friend waiting to fuck me back in the main room.

Brooklyn doesn't seem to be mindful of this, though, and after a little while longer of teasing my cock, she reaches down and undoes my belt; naturally, I don't resist her. Soon, all that remains between me and fucking Brooklyn is my boxers and a skimpy g-string in the way - which she seductively pulls aside for a moment as if to show me she's more than willing.

And then the music changes - go figure. And she reaches down for her bra - but then twirls it in her hand. "I could go farther," she taunts. "You know, if you have the cash."

I look around - I can still see the main floor from here, and there are two dancers on stage, both topless. The night is still young, and there are other dancers, though finding one who's my type may be a challenge. Spending more time with Brooklyn may be my best bet.

That is, if I'm looking to fuck a stripper. I'm not.

I zip up my pants and reach down to my shirt, putting it back on despite a disappointed look from Brooklyn.

"So, that's a no then?" she asks. "It's a shame. I'd fuck you even for free."

"I'm sure you would," I reply, somewhat firmly. "It's not about that. You understand I have the best woman alive out there in a booth waiting for me to fuck her."

I dress myself, rise up, and kiss the still-topless Brooklyn on the cheek. "Thanks for a great time," I tell her as I stroll away, headed back to the main floor.

I zero in on Cherise, who's still there with Michelle, and I lock eyes with her. She finishes off her drink, something different from her previous selection, and gets up to approach me.

I embrace her and she kisses me on the cheek, clearly thrilled to see me. "That was incredible," I whisper in her ear. "She was thrilling. But not as thrilling as you. I don't care where we have to go; I want to fuck you right now. I hope you're ready to go."

"Damn right I am," she answers. "I'll take you out back."

Wait - out back? Is she seriously telling me she's going to let me fuck her in an alley? Or whatever is out back? Is this even-will we get in trouble? I guess the better question is, does it even matter?

"Let's go," I whisper back, and we walk out the front door, hand in hand, grinning as I think about just how cool Cherise really is.

There appears to be a table of some kind not too far from the back of the club - and no one around. Cherise sneaks her hands under her top - and skillfully removes her bra, which she sets on the table. "One less thing to worry about," she quips, moving on to her jeans - which she slides off, replacing her shoes as she does.

Bent over the table in just her top and that naughty g-string - this time a pleasant aqua color - she pulls it to the side and grins.

I unzip my pants, take out my cock, and without another word, I fuck her. I grab her hips, pick up her legs, flip her around on the table, lay her on her back, and pound her pussy with my eager cock.

I slide my hands under her top, squeezing her breasts with as much skill as possible as I fuck her hard - looking around for other people as my heart pounds - as Cherise muffles her moans. She looks up at me with an exhilarated look.

I get really ballsy and whip her shirt off, leaving her almost nude while I'm still just unzipped, and lift her legs up, exposing the bottom of her ass to me. Her breasts shake for me - partially her doing - as she tightens up around me. Fuck, this woman is incredible.

"Fuck, this is hot," she softly shouts as I make it my mission to make her scream. I see a couple of people who might be watching - fuck, I want to be seen. I'm fucking a beautiful goddess on a table in an alley, and I don't even care who knows it. "Fuck!" she exclaims again as I slap her ass and pull her closer, making her bite down just to keep from shouting.

"Fuck yes!" I shout right in her face as I feel myself ready to cum again and start fucking her hard and deep. I slap her ass harder, and she starts screaming louder and louder. By now I hope people see us. Cherise is trouble, and I want as much as I can get.

By this point, Cherise isn't even coherent - shaking her breasts and ass, flat-out on the table, in absolute bliss as I finish her off, filling her gorgeous snatch with another load. Her beautiful body shakes and bounces for me as I cool down, leaving her on the table, almost naked, not feeling like moving.

Finally, I pull her up to me, doing all the work to lift her, and kiss her sweet, sexy lips. I part her lips with my tongue and feel her kissing me back - even in her vanquished state, she's still an amazing kisser.

I break the kiss after a while, holding Cherise's bare chest against me, and I see her eyes open - and instantly widen in shock. Following her lead, I turn around.

There's Amber standing about eight feet from us with a cigarette in her hand. She cracks a smile and takes a drag on her cigarette, politely blowing the smoke away from us.

"Don't worry," Amber says, breaking the silence. "Your secret's safe with me. Happens all the time out back here."

Cherise quickly gets dressed, covering her breasts as I zip back up and hand Cherise her clothes. She looks a bit embarrassed - I'm sure it's that she just got caught being fucked in public. Probably not an everyday occurrence even for a bold woman such as Cherise.

"Honey, take it easy," Amber chides Cherise. "You have any idea how many people I see out here fucking? It's kind of my entertainment. Besides, I'm a little jealous." Her Southern accent is more apparent here than it is in the club - I'm guessing Tennessee. "Your boyfriend is hung like a stallion." I'm not about to correct her on the "boyfriend" comment - let these women think I'm dating a goddess if they want.

Cherise is less than amused by that comment about me being hung. Amber seems to be backpedaling by now. "And you...well, you could be a dancer here. You kind of have that body."

"I hear that a lot around here." Cherise cracks a smile. "But you've seen me. Why the hell does no one see you? You want to get ahead, honey, use what you have and don't be jealous."

That pretty much shuts up Amber, who puts out her cigarette and heads back in without another word. Cherise giggles as Amber frustratedly walks away, blowing her a kiss, which Amber doesn't see, And once again, I'm realizing I'm out here with the coolest woman I've ever met - and I couldn't be happier.

(North Vegas Strip, Monday morning, 9 am)

I'm starting to realize that I'm out here with next to nothing. I have to take a bus just to get to work, I'm wearing an ill-fitting suit, and I have no idea where I'm going to live. Maybe Cherise can find me a friend's couch to crash on, although all her friends seem to be women, so that could get awkward. All I know is I'm about to make a shitload more money than I would have working for Marilyn's old man - and for a lot cooler of a boss.

The setup at Cherise's build site seems to be as thrown together as my life right now - three trailers, a gravel driveway, and no signage whatsoever, and the trailers were not here when she showed me the spot a week ago. But it's a lot better than being in Columbus married to a whore.

I walk up to the first trailer and wait a second - and Cherise opens the door and smiles. She steps down, warmly embraces me, and I kiss her on the cheek as I feel my anxieties about the job disappear right away. After all, everything I've done with her out in Vegas has been wonderful.

After we break the embrace, she shows me around the trailer - not spacious at all, of course, but at least it's air-conditioned and the chairs look comfortable.

"You'll be over here," as Cherise points me to a desk on the opposite side of the trailer from her - it's a cheap desk, but she assures me it's temporary and we'll all get nice offices once the casino is built. "Today I'll have you doing your new hire paperwork, but first I'll tell you everything. We have a lot of expenses, and you're pretty much in charge of all of them. It's your job to make sure we have everything we need and still come in under budget. So needless to say," she pauses, "you'll need some help. And I'll let you hire pretty much anyone you want. You have anybody in mind?" I don't name any names, but I do have a few people.

"Also," she pauses, "I know I promised you a huge salary. And you'll get it. But I've had people fuck me over in the past. So here's the plan." I'm a little nervous. "Right now, you'll get an apartment - a nice one. I'll get you a car you can use for the next year or so. And those clothes? Let's get you something a little more fitting. Some nice suits. And something comfortable to wear when you're just here filling out papers."

"But until we open," she tells me, a little anxiously, "you just get a living allowance. Something to go out to eat or have some fun. The day after we open, you get a check for $200,000. After taxes. All you have to do is stick it out until we open. And in case you're curious, that's next August, right before Labor Day. I'll make sure you're taken care of until then. You won't have to pay for a meal here at work; we have food delivered every day. And there's one more thing I want to show you."

She directs me out to a neighboring trailer, one that's a bit bigger than this one, and I look around - plush chairs, a few nice tables, coolers, two big refrigerators, a television...this isn't a trailer; it's a damn lounge. "Needless to say, this is our break room. Every day at one, the work stops for a couple of hours and we all come here. I insist on it. We work hard here, but we play hard, too. I hope you're good at poker." Not really, but I'll learn.

"And there's one more thing." She takes me to the end of the trailer and opens the door - it's a bedroom. "Here's where you and I will be blowing off steam. I'll be seeing you tonight at seven right here."

(North Vegas Strip, 5 pm)

I have a quick break until quitting time in two hours - Cherise says that, for the time being, the work stops at seven, and that's fine with me. Of course, that means that, on my first day, I'm spending a lot of time poring over forms and filling out lots of paperwork.

Suddenly I'm jostled out of my paperwork-induced trance - when my phone rings. Cherise isn't in the trailer, so I'm here alone. I haven't answered my phone for anyone but Cherise since landing in Vegas, so it's a reminder that I have a life outside of this place.

It's my mother. And she's probably none too pleased I've ignored her since Saturday. And she confirms it when I answer.

"Where have you been?" she demands - I start to tell her and she interrupts. "You ran off?" If you call it that, yes. "You ran off without telling me where you went?" What am I, ten? "After that stunt you pulled at your wedding, you owe a lot of people an apology, and I hear Marilyn's father is suing."

"Good for him," I snap - I'm no lawyer but I'm certain he has no leg to stand on. "Maybe he should have taught his bitch of a daughter this whole concept of being faithful."

"I don't care what she did," she retorts. "You had no right to do what you did."

"What's done is done," I reply. "I'm in Vegas now. I have a job. A hell of a lot better job than what I was getting back home." And a lot better boss, needless to say - a sex goddess who's paying me outrageously and fucking my brains out or a pompous ass who still insists on being called Sir? It's not a tough call.

"I want you to come home now." And I want you to make gold coins fall from the sky, but we don't all get what we want, now, do we? "You owe Marilyn an apology."

"Apology?" I'm stifling laughter. "Did I cheat on her?" Well, sort of.

"I told you it doesn't matter what-"

"Are you going to put Dad on or can I get back to work?" I fire back.

"Work? It's eight at night." It's five here, woman; it's called a time change. Evidently you missed that part in school.

She finally relents and puts Dad on, and Dad actually backs me up - Marilyn's a cheating bitch, her dad's a stiff, Mom's just stressed because of all the dirty looks at the wedding and that I went out to Vegas afterwards, yada yada - and he's thrilled that I have such a great job. I suggest a visit. He's in; Mom's probably a tough sell.

Dad and I chat for a few more minutes, and then I hang up and dive back into my papers. Just my luck, though - that doesn't last long. And fuck my life - it's Marilyn.

"What do you want?" I coldly answer - she seems a bit taken aback but is surprisingly calm.

"I just want to talk," she answers, somewhat defensively. "Look, it's been two days, and I think we need to talk things over. You were really upset and stormed out on Saturday. Where did you go?"

"None of your damn business," I snap back. "You can go to hell."

"Take it easy," she replies - fuck her, seriously. "Did you just snap because of what I did with Jamie's ex? I promise you that's over."

"It wasn't over on Thursday." Two days before the wedding and she's sleeping with another guy. Two days after, and I'm long gone. "I doubt it's over now. You're just going to cheat on me again. Besides," I continue, "I have a better offer. A much better offer."

She is at a loss for words. For a moment. "I don't believe you." Sure you don't. "There's no way some rich person offered you a job at anywhere close to what you were about to make."

"Well, someone did." She doesn't buy it. I don't care. "She's a venture capitalist who's opening a casino in Las Vegas. I'm in charge of purchasing and budgeting. It's a dream job." She still doesn't believe me. I still don't care.

"Look, Marilyn," I exasperate. "There are two possibilities here. Either I'm telling you the truth and you have nothing to offer me. Or I'm lying and I told you something so outrageous that I'll tell you anything just to get you the hell off my back. The fact is, I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you. And I sure as hell don't want to marry you. Now leave me alone." I hang up and take a deep breath. She's infuriating.

I look at my phone - I've missed a call from my mother, and within a minute, Marilyn's calling back. I guess I'll have to change my phone number. It's too bad, too; I love talking to Dad, and if I give him the phone number...well, Mom gets it, too. So I guess that's it for that.

I need a few minutes to decompress before getting back to work - and turn my phone off. The only person I need to talk to at this point is right across from me.

Fortunately, the work day goes by quickly, and at seven, it all stops - Cherise, of course, insists on it despite me being in the middle of a purchase form. "It can wait until tomorrow," she calmly tells me, putting her hand over the form to stop me. Well, if she insists - she's the boss.

"You look like you've had a rough afternoon," she smiles as she speaks. "Let's go next door and have some fun."

I eagerly set aside the purchase form and head over to the neighboring trailer, the one with the break room, and head directly for the attached bedroom. Cherise and I say hello to a couple of relaxing co-workers, but we're in no mood for chit-chat.

The door slams, and quickly my suit jacket, tie, and shirt are all off - Cherise comes undressed a little more readily than I do, a hint to me that I need to dress a little more casually at work.

I pin Cherise against the wall and slide down her slacks, revealing today's selection, a lacy black g-string, which quickly falls to the floor. I squeeze her ample breasts, sliding my tongue in her mouth, and press my naked body against hers, not even thinking at this point.

I slide down her gorgeous body to her magnificent breasts, taking to them like a wild man. I start sucking on her perfect round nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her as she leans against the wall.

I work my hands down to her gorgeous ass as I suck her nipples, nibbling on them a little just to hear her moan. She's clearly in another world as I look up at her gazing in some level of trance, lost in my aggressive takeover of her body. She's so sexy, so amazing, and her body is just wonderful. I've been looking forward to doing this since she showed me the bedroom.

I want her under my spell completely at this point, so I drop to my knees, putting myself on level with her neatly-trimmed pussy. Without missing a beat, I start licking her out - fast, deep, and with a passion I've never experienced before.

Cherise is very well-groomed, not a hair out of place anywhere on her sexy body, and her pussy is no different - I've eaten pussy before, but never anyone as perfect as her. My tongue slides in with precision, and I momentarily wonder if anyone in the break room hears her moans.

I lick her out without skipping a beat, only pausing for a moment to come up for air, and I squeeze her voluptuous ass cheeks as I eat her quickly. She's wet to begin with, my tongue notwithstanding, and as I look up at her, she's in ecstasy. I'm fucking loving this.




Always Bet On Black Ch. 02



Finally I hear her muttering softly, "Fuck me Dave." I slow my tongue down and look up at her from my knees. "Fuck me, you sex god."

I take her in my arms and pull her on top of me on the bed, my hard cock entering her wet snatch with no difficulty whatsoever. She rides me with amazing perfection, bouncing on my cock and shaking her ass over top of me.

I grab her ass, guiding her motions and squeezing her gorgeous ass cheeks as she fucks me hard and fast. She slides her tongue in my mouth, muffling both our moans, as her tongue strokes mine. I'm in ecstasy along with her as I pull her close, kiss her lips, and fuck her as deep as my cock can handle.

She kisses my neck as I softly moan, and I look her beautiful body over as her DDD breasts bounce right in my face. She whispers in my ear, "Fuck me, you stud," as she rides me harder. I'm not much for dirty talk, but I fire back at her as I look in her eyes, "Take it all, you fucking sex goddess."

I slap her ass and demand, "Shake it, bitch." She does as I command, bouncing her big, round ass as I spank her faster and harder. Fuck, she has an amazing ass, and I love hearing her squeal as I spank it. It only makes her ride me faster and harder, as if she gets off on being treated like a nasty bitch.

I notice she's trying not to scream out, but fuck, I want her to - I grab her breasts and squeeze hard, and she responds by stuffing her tongue in my mouth. Our naked bodies entwined, fucking passionately as I rough her DDDs up, trying to stay quiet for the others in the trailer - and failing.

"Fuck!" she shouts - and clearly everyone can hear her. "Damn, Dave!" she cries out. "You're fucking huge!" as she kisses me again, muffling moans that are, without a doubt, orgasmic.

I feel myself about to join her in an intense, steamy orgasm, as I pull her body close, riding her as hard and tight as I can, kissing her wet, delicious mouth. Fuck, I'm in heaven, as I pull her voluptuous body close to me. She's amazing - and shes all mine.

Soon enough, I finish her off, shooting my load in her snatch as she finishes off her own orgasm. She flips her hair back and looks me in the eyes, smiles, and kisses me on the mouth, parting my lips to slide in her tongue. I return the favor, kissing her back, her naked body pressed against mine.

After a few minutes, she breaks the kiss, pulls herself off me, and starts to get dressed, still grinning. I have no idea what's about to happen after this.

Cherise makes sure that feeling doesn't last long. "I figured we'd catch dinner at that Gordon Ramsay restaurant at Caesars," she starts - fine with me. I button up my shirt, grab her hand, and head out with her.

(Fremont Street, Saturday, 5:30 pm)

I guess the wait time isn't so bad, considering Cherise is running late. It's a little frustrating having not seen a host or a waiter in half an hour, though; this place has a great menu, from what I hear. It's just not worth waiting forever, especially with all the options we have here in Las Vegas.

So I wait. And I wait. And this is starting to suck. And then Cherise shows up - her beautiful, smiling face that I've grown accustomed to replaced with an exhausted stare - and after a few minutes, we finally get seated. It's not as crowded as I'd expect for a place that made me wait damn near an hour to get seated, especially considering how many restaurants in this city.

Needless to say, I'm not expecting anything like what I'm used to. Monday was that Gordon Ramsay restaurant in Caesars Palace - this place is off the Strip, but it's surprisingly busy. It looks like it has a good menu, and everyone seems to be pretty happy with their food - but where the hell is my waiter?

Surprisingly, Cherise isn't that talkative, which sucks, since dinner seems to take forever. I find myself lost in thought for the majority of the meal - what is taking so long? Are these people drowning in debt or something and can't hire people?

And it's a damn shame, too - the food is excellent. Even the exhausted Cherise seems pleased with it. It's like...I don't know. There's something here. I know Cherise could do something with this place. Buy it, start making money with it, and turning it into the hottest spot in this part of town. She is, after all, a venture capitalist, and she's damn good. Frankly, if I had her capital, I'd infuse about a hundred grand into this place, get a little bit of staff for this shift, and get things moving. But I'm just starting out, and I have to wait a year for that check for $200,000, so I guess - hold the phone.

How do businesses get their start? They ask for loans. Frankly, I'm receiving one. And I'm living comfortably for the next year or so. So I have an idea.

The waiter finally delivers the bill. "Thank you," I reply, taking a look at it. "And I'd like to speak to the manager." I almost see him swallow hard. "It's not about you. You were fine." I don't exactly see a sigh of relief from him.

It takes about ten minutes, and Cherise almost nods off. I try talking to her, but she isn't feeling it. I press her for details - and get nowhere. I'll try later.

"Can I help you?" chimes in a stressed-out, middle-aged male with graying hair.

"Listen," I start, "You have a great restaurant. I loved the food. But I'm really glad the chefs made my chicken marsala without mushrooms the first time because I'd still be waiting for it if I had to have it remade. Service here was way too slow."

"I understand," he exasperates. "We're really understaffed. We're having trouble keeping some people around." I look across the table - Cherise has nodded off. Poor woman must be sick or something. In any case, the manager continues his spiel for a second before I butt in.

"Are you also the owner?" I ask - he's one of four. "Get you guys together as soon as possible. I have a proposition for you."

(Fremont Street, Sunday, 10 am)

I've tried to talk to Cherise about this idea - to no avail; it turns out she has a bad fever and is home sleeping it off. That's fine; I don't need her. I've cobbled together a business plan for these guys. Fortunately, it doesn't require much of a presentation - and the owners are interested.

"So what exactly is it you want?" asks one of the owners, a man in his 30s.

"I get you guys a check for a hundred thousand dollars," I clarify, "and I take a look at your books. In exchange," I continue, grabbing their attention, "I get partial ownership." Naturally, they want to know how much I want. "You're all equal partners, right?" They are. "Twenty percent. We're all equal partners." One partner counters with five percent. "Twenty," I repeat. "And I know you're hurting big time. No one wants to wait for their meal around here." Another counter-offer - fifteen. "Just give me twenty," I repeat. "I'm a CPA. I can get your books in order in a week."

The three other partners stare daggers at the one who offered fifteen - clearly no one wanted to go that high - and I smirk. "Do we have a deal, folks?" The one female partner seems pretty uncomfortable. The three men confer without her while she glares at them.

It takes them around five minutes to confer, and the female partner joins at the last minute. She seems the most stressed by the idea of forking over twenty percent of the company - and of her personal stake - to a 22-year-old in exchange for a hundred grand.

"OK, we've decided," interrupts the manager from last night. "We're in. On a contingent basis." I'm confused. "Look at our books. If we like what we see, you got your twenty percent and we'll take the check. If we don't, well, you'll get a check for a thousand dollars and that will be that." I smile and tell them I'll expect a contract for the transfer of the restaurant's ownership by the end of the week, and they agree.

I think it over on my way out - did I just become a venture capitalist? From two hundred grand Cherise owes me? Damn, from half that? Sure beats the shit out of pushing pencils for some dick in Columbus while his daughter fucks some other dude.

Of course, if I've got this side business, I definitely need that check when the casino opens. And Cherise probably doesn't like the competition. It's a strange feeling - I have no desire to fuck anyone but Cherise. But this isn't sex - it's business. And if anyone can appreciate the game I'm playing with my money, it's her.

(North Vegas Strip, Monday, 7 pm)

I finish up a purchase agreement, one that feels like my thousandth of the day, and grab the next item on the list. At this point, it's all construction equipment and cement; we're still laying the damn foundation. I have no idea how this place is going to be up by next August, but whatever; I'm getting paid. Besides, those books I promised to look over? I turned them from a total clusterfuck into something that actually makes sense - in a damn afternoon. Needless to say, the transfer agreement is on its way - and so is the check. So Cherise can drag her feet all she damn well pleases with this casino; I have a restaurant now.

So I look this form over - fucking paperwork - and get through to the second page. The next thing I know, the bottom part of my form is covered - by a perfectly polished hand.

"Quitting time," chimes in that lovely voice, one from a woman I haven't seen all day. "Now let's head over to the lounge and get crazy." She doesn't have to tell me twice - and I grab her hand and head over. "Don't worry; I'm feeling better. Sorry I was such a shitty dinner guest on Saturday; this damn desert air has me sick. Nothing like what I'm used to back home in Portland." Oregon, that is, and I'm sure as hell taking some time getting used to how fucking dry it is here.

Cherise leads me into the bedroom as I watch her amazing ass once again, and just as soon as the door shuts, the clothes come off. I rip off my shirt, she tosses her top off, and soon she's down to a matching bra and g-string combo that she wears so well. 

She pulls my boxers down and immediately takes my cock in her mouth - naturally she doesn't have to do a thing to get me hard. I just take one look at her kneeling down in her bra and g-string and I'm ready to go.

"Damn, Cherise," I mutter, "where did you learn to suck like that?" The only answer I expect - or receive - is her looking up at me, giving that fuck-me look, her mouth wrapped around my shaft. This woman can work a cock like I've never seen - every stroke of her expert mouth sends pleasure through my entire body.

"Fuck, baby, don't make me cum yet," I mumble, right on the edge of orgasm - yes, it wouldn't be the first time Cherise has sucked me off, but damn she can suck. I love the sensation she's giving me - her tongue keeps me right on the brink of orgasm, but she's stopping me before I actually get off. I can't even think at this point.

She takes her mouth off my cock and replaces it with her hand, looking up at me. "Did I ever tell you I love sucking dick?" she smoothly asks. At this point, off comes her bra, baring her gorgeous breasts and leaving her naked except for her g-string - and I can still look down and see every curve of her big, round ass.

"I know you're good with your tongue, too," she says as she licks the head of my cock, sliding off her g-string. "So I'll suck you off, and you eat my pussy. Sound good, sexy?" I agree, and without hesitation, she drops back to her knees and continues sucking my cock.

I watch her shake her ass for me as I look down at her - she's beyond sexy. I can't even speak as she deepthroats me - she talks about how hung I am, but she has no trouble taking every inch. She starts sucking my balls, too, my entire cock in her mouth - she doesn't even think about fucking around. Fuck, this feels amazing.

After a few seconds of deepthroating, she comes up for air. "You like that, baby?" I fucking love it. "You want to see how long I can hold my breath while I deepthroat your dick?" Yes, please - and she wastes no more time.

I don't know how she's doing it - she once again has my entire cock - and both balls - in her mouth. I feel my shaft sliding along her throat - her pussy's tight as hell but nothing like this. I ride her face with my eager cock - as usual, right on the edge of orgasm. Cherise is fucking amazing.

"Fuck, baby, make me cum," I stammer as she pulls back, ready to take my load in her eager mouth. She comes up for air after what feels like forever, taking a quick breath while she strokes me with her tongue and then resuming her passionate sucking.

I moan softly, feeling ready to climax, locking eyes with her - and she knows it without me saying it. A couple of seconds pass, and I start to cum. She wraps her lips around my shaft, taking it all in her mouth. I continue to look her in the eyes as she swallows my cum - I can tell she's loving it.

As I finish off, she pulls her mouth off my cock, shakes her breasts a bit, and smiles as she stands back up. She doesn't seem to have any trace of cum on her lips - I can tell she's a pro; she doesn't leave a mess at all.

She kisses me on the lips and pulls me over to the bed. "You got yours," she says. "It's my turn. And I know you know how to eat pussy."

I push her back on the bed and kneel, pulling her close to me as I spread her luscious legs. She's shaved, of course, the way I like her, and she's very eager to let me go to town.

I aim to please - and judging by her initial reaction, I'm doing so. I didn't see anyone in the trailer on the way in - we would have their rapt attention if there were, since Cherise's initial moans definitely say she's loving this.

I slide my tongue across her pussy quickly, looking up at her naked body as her breasts shake for me. Damn, she's so sexy in every way, and her pussy is so wonderful - so smooth, so perfect, and so very sensitive. My tongue slides inside, looking for that g-spot - and again, a loud, passionate moan.

She's grabbing the bedspread, holding on tight, as I speed up. I barely come up for air, focused solely on pleasing her. I see her body quivering, her moans intensifying, her legs perched on my shoulders, but I'm in control.

I grab her hips a little tighter and focus on her g-spot, tonguing inside her sweet snatch as I hold her close. By now her screams are totally incoherent - and I love hearing them. Damn, she's amazing.

"Oh fuck!" she shouts finally as she reaches climax, and I don't let up, hoping to give her more than one. I fuck her g-spot with my tongue as hard as I can, loving that I can do anything I want with her gorgeous body.

I can almost time each orgasm - a second one begins quickly after the first, and her body quakes beyond her control. I don't care who hears her at this point - if the whole Vegas Strip knows I can eat pussy, fine with me.

Finally I let her come down, and she catches her breath, almost unable to move. I climb up on the bed next to her, lying there naked with her. I smile as I look into her beautiful eyes, kissing her on her voluptuous lips.

We spend the next hour or so just looking in each other's eyes, naked and lost in the moment. I stroke her perfect hair and kiss her neck - she just smiles. Damn, she's so perfect, I think as I just enjoy the moment. I don't want it to end. I want to be more than her business partner, more than her friend. I want her for myself.

(Bellagio, casino floor, Saturday, 5:00 pm, four months later)

I've been busy for the last few months, so an evening at the casino eating fancy steaks and playing cards is just what I need. It's what we all need, really - Cherise is looking more stressed, and I've got this restaurant and my day job. So for me, the only question is what game to play first - I've got a wad of hundreds and need to blow off steam.

I look around the busy casino floor for Cherise - she's meeting Monet and Michelle here. Michelle recently gave up her day job as a dealer and says she makes more money playing blackjack - I wonder what her secret is. Either she can count cards or the dealers just make mistakes looking at her ample cleavage.

I see them well before they see me - being bent over a craps table will do that. At least I get a good look at Cherise's ass - the g-string is red today. Not that I can't check out Cherise's gorgeous ass any time I feel like it; I've been fucking the woman since summer, and it's just gotten better.

So I head over, passing through the noisy and crowded casino floor littered with waitresses and beautiful costumes - and my phone rings. No idea who could be calling, but I answer blindly.

"Well hey there, stranger," answers a familiar voice - damnit, it's Marilyn. Of all people to ruin my good time. "Can we talk?"

"Make it quick," I curtly reply. "I'm at the Bellagio."

"You know I hate gambling," she replies.

"And you know I hate when you fuck other men behind my back." That should shut the bitch up.

"I've done a lot of thinking about that since you left," she retorts - whatever. "I'll try to be the bigger person here. I'm sorry I did what I did. I was wrong to sleep with another guy."

"Well, fuck me, Marilyn; you think?" I snap, taking her aback with my language. "What the hell do you want anyway?"

"I want you to come home," she replies, trying to sound sweet. "I want another chance. And Daddy told me the guy he got to replace you isn't working out. He wants you back." Not sure if I should scream at her or laugh.

I do neither. "I'll make it quick - it's not happening. I'm in Vegas now. I have a great job, and I just invested in a restaurant. I've almost made my investment back in four months. At this rate, I'll make more by Christmas from that alone than what your dipshit father planned to pay me."

"Be nice," she fires back.

"Go fuck yourself, assuming Jamie's ex isn't still doing that for you," I fire back. "And speaking of fucking, I've got something way better than you could ever be. Now leave me the hell alone. I don't want to talk to you anymore. Goodbye." I hang up and sit down on an empty stool, one of the few I see.

I decide I need to blow off some steam, so I look over the table - full except for my spot. Pai Gow, it says. What the hell, I think - and I buy in for a thousand. I'm not at all familiar with the rules, but the dealer, an Asian fellow named Michael, is happy to explain.

I bet a hundred dollars in quarters, well over the table minimum, and take my seven cards - well happy day. Two aces, two tens, a joker, and two garbage cards. I have to put two cards in a separate hand, one with a lower poker value than my five-card hand - so the tens go in the low hand. My two hands beat both the dealer's hands, so I get $95. Apparently there's a commission on winnings.

The next couple of hands go very well, and I start playing this side bet called the Fortune - the whole layout is very Asian-looking, and I'm the only white guy at the table. I'm not really paying attention to the others at the table; I'm just happy to get a glimpse of my girl Cherise bent over the craps table.

I'm not making any money on the Fortune bet, but I'm kicking the dealer's ass - or in one case, the ass of this Asian guy with huge stacks who decided to bank. So I'm up about $500 pretty quickly with plenty in reserve when Michael asks me, "Do you want to bank?"

I agree to do so - and the combined bets out there look like about $2,000. I hope I don't get shit cards, I think as I put out a $100 bet and a $25 chip on the Fortune.

About 30 seconds later, I'm ready for my cards - and holy shit. Holy shit, I think. Right off, my first three cards are the King, Queen, Jack of spades. Next up is a ten of diamonds - OK, whatever. Then another ten - a spade. I'm one card from the royal. The next card doesn't help - well, it sort of does; it's a ten as well. So at least I've got trips and a hell of a hand underneath.




Always Bet On Black Ch. 03



(Las Vegas Strip, street level, Thursday, 11:00 pm)

I've just been given a choice - and mere seconds to decide. On one hand, go back to my suite and continue doing work, maybe even make a decision on these houses, and have a drink and go to sleep. It's pretty much what I planned to do after house-hunting anyway, especially after the day I've had. It started with a visit from Marilyn, my cheating ex, who actually told me she's sorry for cheating. Maybe she is, or maybe she's sorry she got caught; I don't know. And them Mom called and tried to threaten me into getting back with her - what the hell is it to her anyway? Whatever it is, she sure has a racist streak now, one I never really knew growing up. Of course, I never brought home a black girlfriend either, so maybe that's her trigger. And then that call from Cherise - what the hell's her deal anyway? She went from being a goddess to being a crazy bitch in the matter of a night. And now I'm probably going to get fired. And I don't really give a damn.

Which leads me to my other hand - and Cherise's also-hot business partner Monet. If I just turn right onto Las Vegas Boulevard and head north, Monet's place isn't that far. She's naked and there with Michelle, who's apparently her lover now - both women are openly bisexual and have dated both guys and girls, sometimes at the same time. At this point, there's a possibility of having both of them, one I never considered before because I never needed to. I could fuck Cherise whenever I felt like it, and it was wonderful. One sex goddess has always been worth more to me than two beautiful women who may not be that much fun. Hell, I turned down a free ride with a sexy stripper because Cherise was waiting for me. But those days are gone.

So it makes my decision a pretty easy one - I make the right turn, and at least traffic seems to be a little less oppressive at this end of the Strip. My cock is throbbing thinking about fucking those two girls - Michelle really has a dynamite ass, almost as good as Cherise's, and I get plenty of looks at Monet's magnificent rack because she spends so much time nude or topless - and imagining the two of them in a 69 waiting for me.

I almost can't believe I'm about to do this. I remember what Cherise said about loyalty - it's OK to go right up to that point but don't actually stab her in the back. Of course, I did that a year ago - with Cherise. And Marilyn righteously deserved it. And I'm about to do it again.

Except that time, Marilyn and I were about to get married. This time? Cherise won't even get close to me. So really, is there even a betrayal? To whom? Sounds to me like I can fuck these girls free and clear.

These thoughts race through my head as I climb out of my car and walk up to Monet's apartment building - I wonder if she actually owns this one. Monet is on the third floor, so I have two flights of stairs to walk up - sure glad I don't have to move into this place, since there's no elevator.

So I inhale deeply - exhale hard. A couple of times. My cock is absolutely throbbing. I haven't had sex since Saturday, the five-day drought my longest since the week between my bachelor party and the wedding I walked out of. It's nice having a goddess like Cherise keeping my cock busy - but when she stops, damn does it suck. It's almost painful being denied at this point.

Fortunately, that's about to end, as I cautiously knock on Monet's door.

No answer. Must have been too quiet. I try again. Still no answer - maybe this is the wrong apartment. I check my phone - this is the place. So either she's pranking me or there's some Buffalo Bill-style whack job in this one. Either way, fuck this. I'll go find some cheap slut and spend the night with her if I have to - no shortage of those in this town.

I pound the door - firmly. I listen closely.

"Come in, Dave!" Clearly Monet's voice. I do as she says.

It's a much smaller apartment - Monet must be a lot more frugal than Cherise, at least in terms of living accommodations. This place is like a broom closet compared to Cherise's lux accommodations - the kitchen is basic. She must eat out a lot - as I giggle to myself about Monet 'eating out,' considering she's almost certainly in the bedroom having hot lesbian sex with Michelle. I'd almost be surprised if it's just the two of them in there. They must be going for some kind of big reveal - the door to the bedroom is closed.

I open it - slowly. I don't know why I'm so nervous; I've seen both of these women naked countless times. Hell, Monet got Michelle into a VP position just so she could come to party night and show off her best assets - emphasis on the 'ass' part.

There's a chair in the corner of the bedroom. I loosen my shirt buttons and take a seat, and I turn to see the two girls on the bed - turns out there are just two of them.

And yes, they're both nude. Monet is flat on her back, legs spread, with Michelle going down on her. Michelle's on the edge of the bed, ass-up, working Monet over with her tongue. Monet's softly moaning as she rubs her gorgeous breasts - not as nice or as big as Cherise's, but almost perfect.

Michelle wiggles and shakes her sexy ass as I watch her work over her lover Monet. She's amazing with her tongue, which she's since had pierced - presumably as Monet's request, since every time she slides her tongue stud into Monet's pussy, I see Monet shiver in insane pleasure.

I think for a second about how that tongue stud will feel across my cock - Cherise isn't pierced anywhere but her ears, but damn, if she was. Michelle hasn't gotten me out of my seat yet, but she has my attention - I'm rock-hard already and don't need much more to be ready to fuck her.

I see her wiggling her ass as she eats out Monet, who has her eyes closed and is moaning in ecstasy. Damn she looks hot - not sure which one I want to fuck first. But I think I'll let Monet have her moment - clearly she's enjoying this and I don't want to fuck it up for her. Her rising moans give me a clear message - hold off for a minute. Let her enjoy this. And damn does she look like she is.

I've only ever seen that look on a woman's face a few other times - every one of them on Cherise. In my case, it was always my cock giving her that level of pleasure - damn I would love to be fucking her tonight. I know she's been a total bitch lately, but when it's good with her, there's no equal.

Certainly not here, even between two gorgeous women - and 'gorgeous' is an understatement. I take a look at Michelle shaking her ass - she's almost begging to be fucked, but she has one job on her mind, and that's the almost-tantric Monet. I think she just went into a second orgasm - damn she's good.

I briefly wonder how well Michelle sucks cock - she does have that amazing tongue ring, something Cherise lacks - and I hope she gets. If it's half as good as her apparent skills at eating pussy, this is going to be a fun night. Already my cock is throbbing, ready to take this woman - but still I need to wait because Monet isn't anywhere near done.

I try not to let my mind wander as I focus on Michelle's ass - but I look her over and there's only one thing I see, and it isn't Michelle. I recall what Monet said earlier about Cherise and her ex - a tall, muscular black man who's probably more hung than I am no matter what Cherise says - and imagining Cherise with him. Yes, it could be happening as we speak and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

It feels like a knife in the stomach. It only sort of affects my hard-on - the two ladies before me are still very arousing - but the idea of seeing Cherise with another man - I'm actually jealous and I have no proof. I'm sure Monet wants me to be jealous so I'll fuck her, but this is just painful. It doesn't piss me off. It doesn't throw me into a blind rage, wanting my revenge on her. It isn't even the same feeling I had when I found out Marilyn cheated - hell, the current me would have taken Cherise in a broom closet and fucked her senseless the second I found out about Marilyn.

But this isn't about revenge. It just fucking sucks. It's not a game I want to play. Yeah, maybe it's like gambling in that sense - fuck Monet and Michelle and have a great night? Or fuck them and make the biggest mistake ever?

And then another moment of clarity - that image of Cherise with her handsome ex? I'm doing the same damn thing to her right now. Except with her, it's just an image in my head. It's an illusion - odds are she's either signing documents, fuming that she had to go find a notary at that hour, or she's passed out in a hotel room. This? This is real. I'm actually here with one of Cherise's business partners and her lover.

And by now, I feel sick from it. Yes, I still feel like I was lame back in the beginning when I said that having a drink with Cherise was cheating. That bitch Marilyn deserved what she got, and I deserved a free drink from a gorgeous woman. Here? All Cherise did was yell at me over the phone. And my revenge is fucking her business partner? I'm a bigger piece of shit than Marilyn if I do that. OK, maybe not, but we're still comparing two pieces of shit. That settles it.

I get up from my chair. By now, Monet's cooled off and is locking eyes with me, expecting me to join her in bed with Michelle. I see the look of disgust on her face as I turn to the door - to leave.

"Dave, where are you going?" she demands as she looks up at me. "I'm not done. What, you think it's over?"

"I can't do it," I reply, matter-of-factly. "Sorry, girls. Have a nice night."

"What the hell is it?" she demands. "Is something wrong? Are you not attracted to us?" Oh fucking fuck, I think. This old line of bullshit? Did she not see that my cock was hard until-no she didn't; she was in mid-orgasm the whole time.

"You wouldn't understand," I fire back and prepare to leave. I hear something of a commotion behind me - a stunned Michelle, evidently, coupled with a furious Monet. If they want to come after me, they can; my mind is made up.

To no surprise, Monet bolts out of the bedroom after me - at least she has the decency to put on a bathrobe before stopping me. I would feel utterly ridiculous arguing with her if she were nude.

She stands in front of the door before I get the chance to open it - shit.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she demands - evidently the word 'leaving' doesn't satisfy her. "Look, if you're trying to make some grand gesture by not fucking us, you're way off. You're already up here. In Cherise's mind, you already did the deed. Besides, she never loved you. You're just someone she enjoys fucking. And if you get too close, she'll move on. In fact," she continues, "if I were you, I'd clean out your office. You won't last long. Cherise told me you have other businesses. right?" I confirm it. "Focus on those. Get ready for the shoe to drop. If I were you, that's what I would do." She looks me over. "And if I were you, I'd get my ass back in there and fuck those two girls in there who want your dick."

"I appreciate it, Monet," I answer, "but I'll be fine." I open the door to head out - she kisses me on the cheek and smiles.

"Your loss, I guess," she flips - I guess so. I guess tonight's not my night, but at least I feel OK about it. My cock? No so much - but I'll be OK. I can hold out if I have to. I'll just head back to my apartment and drink some whiskey while I go over my purchase agreements, like I should have done in the first place.

I head down from Monet's apartment, pleased with myself. However, as I get in my car, I look around, and there's a club on my way out - I could turn left and head there instead of going back to my suite. Probably some lonely stripper who would give me a good time, as I prepare my car to - what the fuck am I thinking? I said no to Monet and Michelle, two drop-dead gorgeous women who would have me in a heartbeat, and I'm about to go to a damn strip club? Get your head in the game, Dave. Wait it out. Get an answer. And then maybe go fuck some random woman when Cherise is no longer an option. This is not me. I'm not that piece of shit I thought I was upstairs. I can do this.

I can just head back to my suite, do some work, drink some whiskey, and spend the weekend like that. And do some soul searching. Clearly it's time for that.

(Dreamscape, Dave's office, Tuesday, 9:00 am)

I've been back to work - at least officially - for about two hours. I'm actually way ahead on purchases and keeping up with my department, since all I did over the weekend was work, drink, and think. As a matter of fact, this is the first time I've left my suite all weekend, living off room service - the perks of living in a nice hotel.

At this point, I'm not sure how well I would welcome a distraction - on one hand, I need to focus. The last thing I need is to think about my love life. On the other hand - it's happening, as I get an email from Cherise. "Come to my office please" is all she wrote - well, here it is. I guess I need to be prepared. Monet was right - the shoe's about to drop.

So I take my papers and head in. Cherise's office isn't much nicer than mine; she's the boss, but she let me design my own office. Too bad I've only been in it a month - and that's about all the enjoyment I'm about to get.

So I take a seat. She looks at me somewhat expressionless. I take out an envelope. Here goes nothing.

"I know why I'm here," I open, trying to take the wind out of her trigger-happy sails. "I'll beat you to it." I hand her my envelope and watch her open it.

What she doesn't know is that the envelope contains my letter of resignation.

"What is this?" she asks, confused.

"I think it's for the best," I reply. "Besides, we both know what's coming."

"What do you mean, what's coming?" Is she not firing me?

"You called me in here to fire me." I think.

"No I didn't!" she screams. Well, shit. "I called you in here to apologize for yelling at you the other night. I didn't think you were this upset!"

"I am this upset," I coldly retort. "And I have other investments. I have a business I need to run."

"Please don't do this, Dave," she pleads. "I actually wanted to talk to you about a promotion."

"Bullshit," I snipe. "What the hell are you promoting me to?" Nothing now.

"Umm, chief financial officer. You know, in charge of all my finances." Yeah, sure. I ran the casino so well I decided to be her whipping boy forever. Not happening.

"After the other night, there's no way I can work for you." It's cold and heartless, but it should shut her down.

"Look, Dave," she begs. "I was a bitch. When I'm wrong, I admit it. I was wrong. You were right to ask me to hire a notary instead of flying you out. You had work to do. You're not my employee, Dave. You own part of this company. That makes us partners."

"You don't really believe that," I scoff.

"Yes," she soothes, "I do." I see the desperation in her expression - clearly she's scared to lose the guy she groomed. "I'm done being a bitch. I promise it won't happen again."

"That's fine, Cherise," I counter. "The fact is, it's time for me to move on. I have a business I need to focus on. I cleared seven figures. Besides, I still own five percent of the company-"

"Yeah, and this is how you repay me." Throwing her arms up in disgust. "By getting your check and your share of the company and then hitting the bricks. I made you, Dave, and I can destroy you!"

"So much for 'it won't happen again' on the whole being a bitch front." I get up to leave her office. "You throw yourself into your work just to avoid a real human relationship. You hide behind this image of being super-cool just to keep people at arms' length. And you guzzle Red Bull like it's lifeblood. That shit's going to kill you." I reach the door and see her fuming. "I think I made the right call."

(Dreamscape, employee lobby, Tuesday, 10:00 pm)

Well, I did it - I'm officially a dead man walking here. Cherise reluctantly sent out an email telling everyone of my resignation earlier this afternoon, and since then, I haven't left my office. Fortunately, my office has a bathroom in it, and I got lunch through the door, so I've been able to hide until pretty much everyone else has gone home.

Certainly Cherise, who left three hours ago, is one I do not care to see. What she doesn't know is that I am moving into a new suite tonight - a temporary home in an Extended Stay suite until I can find a suitable house. So all my stuff, what little I have, is gone from the hotel suite.

At least with leaving this late, I can walk out in peace. Just the night security guard between my office and my car. "Goodnight, sir," he says to me - I've practically begged the man to call me Dave a thousand times. I guess he still thinks he's in the military or something.

Then I hear a familiar voice - if it's not the last person I want to see. Actually, it isn't the last person I want to see, but she's on the list.

"Where were you all day?" It's Monet. Shit. "Cherise told me everything. I guess I don't blame you, especially after everything that happened today." I missed it. "Cherise got arrested. You didn't hear?" No.

"That doesn't sound like Cherise," I stammer. "What was she doing? Insider trading?" I know she has a very successful stock portfolio - I suppose one of her stocks could be a secret.

"No," she says, as if I should know. "Drugs. She's a heroin dealer."

"Bullshit!" Cherise may be a bitch, but she's not a criminal.

"Well, that's what they got her on." This isn't right. But if it is, I guess I got out of the company at the right time. "I told you she was bad candy. But hey, your loss, right?" Her phone rings - turns out it's Chaz, and the words 'See you soon, sweetie' come off her lips. Well, good for him, I guess.

She leaves ahead of me while I head out to continue my increasingly sad existence - takeout Chinese and free cable at the Extended Stay ten minutes from the hotel. At least the people in the burgundy Ford behind me have the same idea I do about Chinese - as I get out of the car, it appears to be four rough-looking white dudes. Whatever, I think as I go about my business, pleased that takeout places are open this late out here. Nothing like that back home in Columbus.

I don't even make it to the door - an object hits me in the back of the head. Dizzy, I look around - it's a glass bottle. "We got a message for you!" shouts one of the guys in some sort of hood voice. One of them throws another bottle - this one misses.

But by this point, they have me surrounded. "Get his hands!" the apparent leader shouts, as another of them pins me against the wall. The leader takes a swing at me, connecting with my face and leaving me more dizzy than before. The next blow is to my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

The two other guys start taking shots at me, kicking me in the legs and swinging at my ribs. At this point, I try to ask what the hell's going on, but I'm too far gone to get it out. Did I go to the wrong takeout place? Is this their territory? Are they pissed because...fuck it, I don't know. I just hope I live.

Wish granted, as the leader calls out, "This boy's had enough. Let's get the hell out of here." And just like that, they let me go, leaving me a crumpled heap in a parking lot. I sure as hell came to the wrong Chinese takeout place - so far, not one employee has come out to help or stop the guys. Well, guess I won't be eating here.

After about twenty minutes, I get up - no employee or police in sight - and head to my car, which thankfully is not damaged. I climb in - and my phone rings. To my surprise, it's Mom. It's almost two in the morning in Ohio - she's usually in bed by ten.

"Are you ready to do what I tell you now?" What the hell? "Are you ready to head back to Ohio, get married, and make me a grandma and yourself a productive member of society?"




Always Bet On Black Ch. 03



"OK, what the hell are you talking about?" I stammer - wait a second. My phone has this nice little feature on it that might come in handy.

"You don't really think that was a random attack, do you?" I don't know. "I sent those boys to beat you up. And I'll do it again and again until you come home."

"Damn, I must have hit my head harder than I thought," I spit out. "My mother, the whining moralist, is some sort of gang leader?"

"It's not a gang, David," she scolds. "I used the church's money to pay these boys to attack you. So there's plenty more where that came from." And she wonders why I stopped going to church. "And your little harlot, that homewrecker, she's in jail now and she's going away for a long time. All thanks to me. You don't really think she's a drug dealer, do you?" Does it matter at this point? "I looked for dirt on her - she's clean. But if I have to make her life miserable so she'll stay away from my son, then I'm more than happy to. And I will never stop. Now are you ready to do what I tell you? I can send you another plane ticket and have you home by Friday. Now about a job-"

"You can go to hell." I've heard all I need. I hang up the phone and drive on - to the police station. Dinner comes from a drive-thru menu.

After getting my wits back - luckily I don't get pulled over on the way - I walk in, where a surly-looking officer awaits me. "Can I help you?" he asks, as if I'm bothering him.

"Yes, I need to report an assault." This sucks, since I have to relive the assault - almost immediately - and give a description of the four men who assaulted me. Fortunately I have a pretty good description of them, and the officer almost seems to know the identities of the asswipes who did this. By now, another officer, a younger one, is assisting the surly officer.

"There is one more thing," I continue as I get out my phone - what my mother doesn't know is that I recorded our conversation.

"So wait a second," the young officer - Miller, according to his badge - interjects. "We booked a woman for dealing heroin earlier. Some rich woman in a casino-"

"Cherise?" I ask.

"Yeah, Cherise something; I'm not very good with names," he rambles. "So we booked her because of this woman?" I confirm it. "Well, that woman's in a lot of trouble. And the woman in the cell, well, I'll go get her." It takes about five minutes before Cherise is released - she doesn't even look up at me.

"I'm sorry my mother did this," I tell her, trying to break the tension. "I told the cops. This should stop happening." She doesn't respond immediately, and when she gets outside, I motion her to my car.

"I'll take a taxi," she coldly replies. Damn. "And if you could work from your suite the rest of your time with the company, that would be great." Again, damn.

(Las Vegas, hotel suite, one month later, 5:00 pm)

Well, this is it - my last form for the casino. I'm working almost entirely by email by this point - I had lunch with the team today, and it was nice, but Cherise and I didn't talk much. She seemed almost nervous around me despite the fact that I was nothing but nice to her.

At least the department is in good hands - Chaz is my successor, so I guess we're more than even in that regard. He got me out of my miserable life and led me to the person who brought out the best in me, so giving him my old job is the least I could do.

I haven't heard from Mom in a few weeks either, so I assume she's given up. Of course, I haven't heard from much of anyone in a few weeks - most of my time outside my suite has been spent looking for a house, so far with no success.

I also haven't been sleeping much - between these purchase orders, house hunting, and a lot of thinking, I'm exhausted. And at this point, it pretty well shows - I take a look at myself in the mirror. I have got to start taking better care of myself. Well, at least I can call for pizza for dinner, since, you know, that's healthy.

So after a few minutes of looking at myself in the mirror - the bags under my eyes especially - I look over. And damned if it isn't Cherise. No idea how that woman found me, since I never told anyone my location, but here she is in my suite. I must have left the door cracked.

She's still as gorgeous as ever, and she's still flashing a million-dollar smile. And I'm not sure if I want to see her.

"Hey there, stallion," she calls out to me as she approaches.

"What the hell's going on?" I stammer as she approaches. She has on a low-cut top, revealing her perfect cleavage, and those tight jeans she had on when I first met her. I wonder what's underneath. "How did you find me?"

"I had the IT guys do a reverse IP lookup. Led me right here." I'm not even sure if that's possible, but then again, I suppose if local police departments can do it, so can a woman who owns a casino. And to think she's only 29. "I've missed you."

"I thought you hated me," I answer - she shakes her head seductively. "I've spent a month trying to forget about you. I can't even say I remember your name, Cherise." Well, fuck. So much for that.

"It doesn't matter if you remember me," Really? "I know something that does." She reaches underneath the table I'm sitting at - and grabs my jeans. I have an obvious bulge in my pants - needless to say I'm hard as a rock.

She kisses me passionately on the mouth. Damn, can this woman kiss. I don't need that much encouragement from her, but she gives it anyway, tearing off her top to reveal a red bra underneath. Next to go is my shirt, and then she unzips my pants.

She then stands above me and drops her jeans, revealing a red g-string underneath - she always matches. That doesn't last long, though, as she undoes her bra and smiles as I slide my pants off, revealing just a pair of boxers.

Those go off too as she slides off her g-string. Without missing a beat, she leaps in my lap and straddles my cock. Just like that, I'm fucking her.

I hold onto her big, sexy ass and guide her body as she rides me. She's in my lap, facing me, as I hold on tight to her. Damn I missed this. She's still so tight and so amazing, and my cock just throbs with pleasure.

I kiss her deeply, our tongues stroking each other sensually. I'm going a little easier on her, just holding on tight as I ride her since I feel as if I'm a little out of practice. She doesn't seem to have missed a beat, though - I hope it's just because she's a goddess.

I look in her gorgeous eyes as I kiss her and squeeze her ass, her pussy stroking my cock with perfection. Damn, can this woman fuck. She pins me back in my chair as she rides me hard and fast.

Oddly, my phone begins to ring. I hate distractions, especially while I'm with Cherise, but it just gets louder and louder. And strangely, I stop feeling the amazing pleasure almost instantly.

Then I look up - and Cherise is gone. I'm fully clothed in my chair - and alone. And my phone is still ringing. What the hell just happened? I look around - no one else there. I'm still rock-hard - go figure. And there's a touch of drool on my face. Fuck, did I just fall asleep and dream of fucking Cherise? I guess there are worse dreams to have.

So I pick up my phone and check the ID - it's Dad. Of course, after last time, I fully expect it to be Mom ready to tear into me. Probably another plane ticket or a bunch of thugs waiting to kick my ass. I even considered buying a gun after that incident but haven't followed through - as of now it's just been one time that those shitheads have attacked me. I'd like it to stay that way.

"Well, hey there, son," the enthusiastic voice on the other end - thank God it's actually Dad. I assume he's waited until today to call - my Facebook page made it pretty clear that today is my last day at the casino and I'm off to run my own business. "So how are you holding up?" Fine, I guess.

"I'm glad to hear from you instead of Mom," I continue. "Especially after she sent those thugs after me."

"Yeah, that was the last straw for me, too," he replies - what? "I was already unhappy with her about the plane tickets - after the last one I closed all the credit cards in both our names. I could handle that. The beginning of the end was when she sent Marilyn out there." Yeah, that was about it for me, too. "The first real bad fight was after that - she expected me to back her up. I don't believe in anything she said to you. And she knows that. And then she made some comment like, 'You just want to go run off with some black woman.' I was insulted." I would be too - there's a difference between wanting to fuck a black woman and just not being a racist shitheel.

He seems to have more news. "I spent the night in the guest bedroom. And then I moved out in the middle of the night when she did what she did to you and your business partner." On one hand, good for him for telling Mom to fuck off. On the other hand, it's hard to hear him refer to Cherise as my business partner, but that's our own doing, I guess. "I filed for divorce the next day. But I got a little surprise when I went to go serve her with papers." This ought to be good.

"She was in jail."

No shit. "The Las Vegas Police Department sent over a recording. She's being charged with conspiracy and filing a false police report. She's facing hard time." I guess that means Dad gets everything. "And guess who's defending her?" Hitler? "Deacon Horvath's best friend." He's referring to the best friend of the deacon from Mom and Dad's church, that is. He's an influential man in our community. He's also an asshole.

"But here's the best part," he continues, almost laughing. "You know how your mom called your partner a homewrecker?" I know where this is going - and he confirms it: Mom's fucking the deacon. The married deacon, that is. It turns out the affair has been going on since I was in high school - no wonder she defended the cheating bitch and blamed me for it. She's a cheating bitch herself - and blames Dad, who, by all accounts, has been entirely faithful.

"Well, I guess I don't feel so bad now," he answers - he's not sure he understands. "I'm the reason she got arrested. And I felt bad about suing her because I knew you would be paying for it. But I had to send her a message." Turns out he agrees with me - and it also turns out he's likely to win big in the divorce because he has a lot of dirt on Mom. The racist cheating bitch who's in trouble with the law - doesn't stand a chance in hell.

It turns out that Dad's done with home as well - he put in his two-weeks at his job today, and he's on his way out west. Someplace warm so he doesn't have to deal with this winter. Hard to blame him - the summers are brutal, but fifty degrees in December beats the shit out of ice and snow.

It sure is good to catch up with Dad, and our conversation lasts about another hour - he's living month-to-month in a studio apartment waiting for the divorce proceedings to end. As he hangs up, I flop back in my chair, just waiting for the day to end. I'll probably order pizza - no human interaction beyond a delivery guy. Figures - I'm in one of the coolest cities in America and I don't want to go out.

I guess I don't have a lot of choice in the matter, since "out" comes to my door. No one at the company knows which suite I live in - OK, maybe not, since it's Monet. And Chaz.

"Spearmint Rhino?" asks Chaz - I turn him down. "Dude," he counters, "what the hell's gotten into you? You're a no-show at work, you're no fun-"

"I know what's going on," interrupts Monet. "It's Cherise. Look, Dave, she's not mad at you. She thinks you hate her." Hate is a strong word, but it's also the closest emotion to love, a word I don't think I've used when it comes to Cherise. I don't know where I'm going with this thought, so I tune back into Monet. "Maybe you need a night out. We're going up to Seattle tomorrow for a new nightclub. We're having fun tonight." Yeah, OK, I'm in.

We head out to Chaz's car - a Porsche Boxster, so I have to wedge myself in somewhere. It turns out that 'somewhere' is the driver's seat, since Chaz doesn't feel too good about Monet sitting on my lap. "And if you came to work instead of working from your suite all the damn time, you'd know we're dating now," Monet explains.

"You did me a favor that night," Monet continues. "When you walked out, Chaz called and asked if I wanted to hang out. He came right over and we had a threesome. Then Michelle fell asleep, and we spent all night talking and getting to know each other. And having amazing sex, of course. And after a lot of hanging out, we became a couple."

"And one more thing," she continues. "I told Cherise everything. She told me she was ready to fire you after she found out you were at my apartment. But before you met with her, I told her everything. And that's when she had the idea of making you CFO." I try my best to hide my shock - looking forward at the road and giving a generic response. But damn. "And then when you quit, she ran right into my office and cried. I had never seen her cry until then."

I'm at a loss. I'm not sure I believe what Monet's saying. For all I know, she's trying to force something that's not there - I get it; she and Cherise are inseparable, and Chaz and I have been friends since grade school. But still, there's a lot to overcome.

"She was mad when you got her from jail, but she told me she wanted to talk after that. She just didn't know how to approach you." Wow. To think I'm that intimidating. "I hope we see her tonight - she was non-committal about coming out with us tonight. We're going to Seattle tomorrow about a club she's buying." Go figure. Is there a business she doesn't own? "I told her Chaz and I would do it, but you know how Cherise is. Has to do everything herself." Yeah, you're telling me. 

I try to put Cherise out of my mind as Chaz changes the subject - apparently he bought four season tickets to whatever team the NHL's looking at bringing to Vegas. Winter sports in the desert - what will they think of next? I'm surprised Cherise isn't trying to buy an interest in the team - she likes basketball better, but then again, that's about all they have up in Portland where she's from.

But enough about Cherise. I haven't been to the Spearmint Rhino since Cherise took me and we fucked in the alley, so I wonder if the same ladies are there. That was a hell of a night - I just wonder how I'll keep from fucking a stripper tonight since I don't have Cherise ready to take me out back and get crazy. And even after the fight, the absence, the isolation from everyone else for a solid month, and all the shit that happened with my crazy mother - Cherise is still the only woman I want. Fuck, I can't stop thinking about her.

We stop off for dinner first - I joke with Chaz and Monet about buying the place, but I don't pursue it - and then after a couple of hours and a stop at a sports bar, we head to the Spearmint Rhino. I'm thankful Chaz lets me drive his Porsche, not just because it's fun as hell to drive but because both he and Monet have a few too many at the bar and I'm the only one sober enough to fight the traffic.

Finally, long after the sun has gone down, we're here, and the atmosphere is a lot like what I remember - this time it's only the three of us, though, and I'm in almost direct competition with Chaz and Monet, who are looking for a lap dance for them together. Me? I'm just looking not to make a mistake.

The first nibble we get is from a tall, shapely brunette, who's pretty good at dividing her time between me and Chaz - but not so good with a very interested Monet. Even after Chaz mentions that he's looking for someone for himself and his girlfriend, she doesn't get the hint - so she doesn't last long.

Next up after a few minutes of waiting and sipping whiskey is an olive-skinned Latina with long, shimmering black hair. If I weren't so dedicated to staying chaste for Cherise, I'd have her in VIP in no time no matter what she charges. However, I just smile and pass her off to Chaz.

"I think this one's all yours, Dave," butts in Monet - and if she is, damn am I lucky. The Latina sits down in the booth next to me - her breasts are amazing. I think they're actually bigger than Cherise's, but it's not the size that impresses me, it's the way they sit in her bra. These bras are hardly flattering - I mean, it's only a topless strip club; it's not as if anyone's going to be ogling these women's bare chests or anything - but this woman could look good in anything. And it's not just her assets - she has an amazing smile and I love her accent.

Her name, it turns out, is Maribel. She's 24, and she's new to Vegas. Figures - as the guy who took a chance coming out here, I get the girls who do the same. First Brooklyn last year, a black goddess who would have had me had Cherise not been ready, and now Maribel, a Latina goddess who's making me ask if it's worth taking a chance on her.

My phone buzzes with a text message - I'm talking to Maribel, who's actually pretty smart, so I ignore it until I get another. I figure it's a spam text or Chaz being stupid - Monet just turned away a blonde, so he's jealous of the attention. Dude, maybe spend some time with your girlfriend, since you, you know, have one.

I look over at him - he clearly didn't send those messages. Monet? The look on her face tells me one thing - check your phone, dude.

So I do. The first message: "Cherise knows you're here." Fuck. I look at my phone for another message - turns out it's from my carrier about some offer they have. Well, what the hell am I going to do now?

"Can I have a second?" I ask Maribel - she agrees as I slide a $10 bill in her bra. She smiles as I go over to talk to Monet.

"OK, what the hell is that about?" I ask her - and she just hands me her phone.

It's Cherise. "So what's she look like?" she asks me - reception here must be spotty; she's coming in kind of fuzzy. I describe Maribel's luscious breasts but haven't had a good look at her ass yet - scratch that, as she's standing now and bent over the table.

Once again, the bottoms she's wearing above her g-string are not flattering at all - but she makes the best of them. Her ass is nice and round, not as big as Cherise's but very nice. I could imagine myself bending her over and spanking her gorgeous ass the way I do with Cherise.

"You're making me - damn, what's the word for it. I wish I was her and you were looking at me instead of...fuck, I can't even...say stuff-"

"Jealous," I answer - yes, that's the word.

"Yes, I'm very jealous," she continues. "I'm so jealous I want you to look over at the door." OK, what the hell? I look over.

Cherise is there. My eyes light up. I turn to Chaz - "Maribel's all yours," I tell him, and he seems to waste no time.

Neither do I, as I head to the door to see Cherise - and she looks drugged. She's moving like a member of the Walking Dead, her eyes glazed over, slurring her words, as if she's drunk.

Nonetheless, I'm so happy to see her, as I go in for a warm, loving embrace - and I completely whiff. She falls to the ground before I can react - and I panic.

"I need medical attention! Now!" I call out to the bouncer, who seems uninterested.

"I'm fine," stammers Cherise. "I just need a Red Bull." Red Bull. That's it - I've seen this before.

I stop a waitress. "Do you have a a bottle of water or something?" She does, and I take it, handing her a random bill for a tip - I really hope it's not a $100. I tilt Cherise's head back - she drinks it slowly.

"That wasn't Red Bull," she scolds as she finishes the water a few minutes later.

"No," I counter, "it wasn't. Red Bull is why you collapsed. You're dehydrated." Energy drinks in excess - I saw it on an episode of House, so it must be true. "You have to take better care of yourself. More water. We live in the desert. You can't live off energy drinks. I know you want to keep going and you have a lot to do, but this isn't healthy. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."




Always Bet On Black Ch. 03



"I'm fine," she scoffs. "I just need to get up and go." She falls back again.

"I'm getting you to the hospital," I demand - she tries to stop me. "It's your call - we go to the hospital or we go to my suite." She chooses my suite, and I agree - I grab Chaz's keys and hand him another bill for a taxi - this one a $50 bill. This time, however, the bouncer is a bit more helpful in getting Cherise out to Chaz's Porsche. I guess if it involves lugging people around, he's all good, but he doesn't know a damn thing about helping anybody.

We get Cherise into the passenger seat and get her to my suite, along the way stopping to get her some Gatorade. She asks me for a Red Bull and I scold her - no more of that.

I help her into my suite - she's feeling better by now and already her thoughts are shifting back to business. I need to put a stop to that. "You're staying here tonight," I demand. "If you won't take care of yourself, then damnit, I guess I have to do it for you."

"I'm fine," she scoffs once again - of course, when she goes to get up, she gets dizzy, and soon she falls asleep. So I text Chaz to find out their itinerary for Seattle - the flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow. So I answer: "Count Cherise out. Sorry to waste the tickets but she's too sick to go."

Needless to say, Cherise isn't pleased about this - but I tell her it's done. "You trust Chaz and Monet enough to put them in these important positions; let them do their jobs."

"You don't understand," she retorts. "I was planning to go through Portland on the way back. I need to take care of some business at my home office."

"Why is your home office still in Portland?" I ask. "Wouldn't it make more sense to bring it here?"

"That's home for me, Dave," she replies. "I'm probably going back there soon."

"I really hope you don't." Well, here goes, I guess. "I want you to understand why I left the company. It wasn't just because I thought you were going to fire me." I was iffy on that at best even when Monet said it, even if she considered it. "It's just...after that night at your apartment, I saw a side of you I really, really...loved. And I knew at that point we couldn't just stay what we were. Friends with benefits - for me, after that, it was everything or nothing." I pause. "And that's still how I feel."

She pauses. She doesn't speak for what seems like forever - it's actually painful. I guess I've pushed all my chips into the center - either I lose them all and Cherise and I never want to see each other again, or I get everything. Or something else - not every bet is a win-or-lose proposition.

"Look, Dave," she begins. "My ex and I had a bad breakup. I really thought I was going to marry the guy." I guess I can't be surprised - we both almost got married. "I never wanted to go through that again. So I threw myself into my work. I became the cool girl. I hooked up with guys. I went out to strip clubs. It made me money."

"But the truth is, Dave," she continues, "I avoided it because I didn't want to fuck it up. I mean, it's fun being the cool girl. But I don't have anyone to share it all with. Even Monet wanted more. I figured out I didn't know what I wanted. So here I was, with a guy who actually turned down a threesome because of me, and I didn't know how to handle it."

There's a strong silence between us at this moment. If I tried to cut the tension with a knife, it would get stuck. I don't even know where to go from here.

"I have an idea then," I interject. "You need to go to Portland, right?" She does. "I'd like to help you with a few things while you're there, so let's go together. I'd love to help you move some of your work here to Las Vegas."

"I don't know, Dave," she replies. "I like this city, but I don't know if it's home."

"Who says it's home for me?" I ask back. "Who says home is where you're born? Home is where you make it. I make it here, or I'm trying to. Besides," and here goes, "I've said my peace. And if it's all right with you," I pause, inhaling deeply, "while I'm in Portland, I'd like to meet my girlfriend's mom."

It doesn't hit her at first. The words, the gamble, the crazy talk - she seems to process it slowly.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to swoon and fall over and just shout, 'oh Dave,' and fall into your arms?" Shit. "I'm not that kind of girl. But you know what?" Umm, not-shit? "I can't be the cool girl who hooks up and lives off business trips and Red Bull forever. Besides, if there's a guy for me, I'm sure it's the one who knew I was innocent when your bitch of a mother had me arrested. Fuck, even Monet thought I was selling drugs." So she finally sees it my way on the Red Bull. Score one for Dave. And two since I'm totally with her one the whole 'my mom's a psycho bitch' thing. "So if you want me, I'm yours."

"Just one question," I interrupt. "This doesn't mean our sex life turns boring, right?"

Cherise grins wryly. "Want to find out?" She doesn't have to ask me twice - without hesitation, I take her in my arms.

I kiss her - passionate, deep, sustained, and perfect. I've been waiting for this for a long time. I think momentarily to the last time Cherise and I had sex - at her apartment after the most wonderful night of my life.

Cherise is even less patient than I am - she undoes my shirt buttons faster than I thought was possible, and the next thing I know, I have her bra and top off. Her breasts are still as amazing as I remember them - she's lost a little weight, presumably from poor self-care, but she'll be back to her curvaceous glory just as soon as I sink my claws in her again. Besides, Cherise at her worst is still a thousand times hotter than just about any other woman at her best.

Cherise undoes my belt and pulls off my pants, ad soon enough she has me to my boxers. I pull her jeans off in one singular motion, not even getting a chance to look at what she has on underneath - just by feel alone, though, it's one of her trademark g-strings.

I stand up and head to the bed, but Cherise wraps her beautiful body around me - so I hold onto her ass as I carry her over, Damn, I love that ass of hers - so round, so perfect.

As we reach the bed, she pins me down - not messing around a bit, she straddles my cock as my legs hang over the bed. I have her in a perfect position - and judging my her moans, she has me in one too. Damn I missed this.

Cherise starts doing all the work, bouncing her gorgeous ass as she rides my throbbing cock. She presses her breasts into my chest once again, and I'm in heaven.

I'm kissing her deeply as she fucks me, our tongues stroking one another, never seeming to get enough. Our bodies entwined, pressed together, in the most perfect moment, my hands grabbing her perfect ass - it couldn't be more perfect.

And damn, can Cherise fuck. She has me right on edge but not ready to go over for what feels like hours. I'll never know how she can keep my cock, which is begging for its sweet release, right on the verge but not to cum so damn quickly, even after a month-plus of no sex.

Finally she breaks the kiss and pins down my shoulders, and her previously muffled moans reach a new intensity - this can only mean one thing. I grab onto her ass as hard as I can and squeeze it, pulling her closer to me.

And at this point she's screaming, bouncing on my cock faster and faster as I grip her ass cheeks as if my life depends on it. And finally I feel myself ready to join her in ecstasy as my entire body feels an eruption of pleasure.

I loosen my grip on Cherise as she does the same, finally feeling that sweet release as I fill her with cum. I instantly feel a rush of pleasure and exhaustion come over me as I collapse flat on the bed, no strength left.

Soon Cherise softens her moans and joins me there, her perfect body pressed on top of mine. I gather enough strength to put my arms around her back, holding her in an embrace I never want to let go of.

Cherise is mine. Finally, after all this song and dance, the business talks and the fucking on the sly, we're finally one - in every way I can imagine. And to think we had to separate ourselves to do it.

After a few minutes that seem like hours pass, Cherise finally switches positions, leaving me spooning with her. I see her take a sip of the Gatorade she has on her bed, but other than that, she just lays there. We don't really say anything. We don't need to.

I figure we'll tell Chaz and Monet in the morning, and then we'll book a flight to Portland over the weekend. But for now, everything's as it should be. I'm lying here in bed with the most wonderful woman in the world. And I couldn't be happier.

Cherise switches off the light as I continue to hold her close, both our heads on one of the pillows and no clothes between us. I sense she's drifting off to sleep, so I lean up to whisper in her ear.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," I whisper. "I just wish this night didn't have to end." She agrees. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dave," she whispers, and soon she's off to sleep, as am I.

(Summerlin area, Dave and Cherise's house, Sunday morning, six months later)

I look at the clock again and check my phone - and listen across the hall. I'm sure we have more time than what I'm allotting, but then again, I'm really looking forward to this.

'This.' of course, is the first real vacation I've been on since I was 18 - if you don't count my bachelor party, and I don't since I count that as a business trip. Our flight leaves in five hours, and we have a lot to do before our plane take off - for Maui.

I'm not waiting on packed bags or anything. I'm waiting on our guests, including the one who's staying with us. We couldn't get our parents out for our housewarming party, so we got them out now before our vacation. So right now we have a house guest - Sandy, Cherise's sweetheart of a mom.

We would have Dad here, but he's never been to Las Vegas and wanted the whole experience. For just him, our other guest room or even a cheap room would be enough, but he's really trying to pull out the stops. He has to - he hasn't been in the dating pool since college, and this one's a keeper.

I snap back from my thoughts as the shower turns off - Cherise steps out, soaking wet in all her naked glory. Damn, looking at her still gets me going even after six months of dating.

I grab the towel for her and help her get dried off - thankfully I'm still just in my boxers, waiting until the last minute to get dressed, as I often do at home. As I do, I kiss her sweetly, distracting her so I can toss the towel aside and do what I really want to do with her.

However, as I grope her ass and reach a little lower, she stops me. "Are you crazy? My mom's right next door. She'll hear something. Besides, your dad and his girlfriend will be here any minute." That last part isn't true - they're still getting ready - but I decide to back down just to keep the peace. But damn, I'm fucking horny. Cherise told me no last night because she was tired - we haven't had sex in two days, which is an eternity for us.

So I decide to distract myself with some television while she gets ready - unless she has somewhere to be, Cherise has become very low-maintenance, so it shouldn't take long.

Then I hear her from the bathroom. "Honey, can you come in here? I want to see how this shirt looks on you." That's strange - she never dresses me. But OK then.

I stroll into the bathroom, looking at the counter - no shirt. Not sure what the hell she's doing.

And before I have time to react, she's dropped to her knees in front of me. She pulls down my boxers and grabs my cock in her hand. Damn, this is way better than trying on a shirt - and she seems to agree, as she eagerly stroked and licks the head of my cock to get it hard.

She succeeds - quickly - and takes it in her mouth. I lean against the counter as she gets to work.

She takes as much as she can handle, cupping my ass cheeks as she works over my shaft with her expert mouth. This is far from the first time she's sucked my cock, but it's the first time she's pulled a surprise blowjob move.

"Damn, baby," I moan as I guide her head - weakly, since she's firmly established she's in control. "Fuck, this is good." I try to keep my voice down, biting my lip a little because I know Sandy's in the other room. Fortunately, over a year of sneaking around the office has made me an expert at muffling my moans.

Her tongue strokes my shaft quickly and expertly, and she even takes me deep in her mouth - yes, within seconds, she's deepthroating me. And she's doing a hell of a job, not even coming up for air.

At this point, I guide her head more forcefully as she works me over, and soon she has my whole body shaking. I'm totally hers at this point. Her fingers dig deeper into my ass cheeks as she strokes my cock head quickly, leaving me on the verge of a glorious orgasm.

I don't last much longer. Soon I'm biting my lip, keeping myself from screaming, and looking at her totally lost as she finishes me off. Soon my body is overcome by intense pleasure as I begin filling Cherise's mouth with my cum. I don't notice her tongue doing its work at this point; all I can think about is how incredible she is - and how I so badly want to scream.

But I don't, and soon she finishes her work, swallowing everything I give her and licking my shaft clean. She smiles, and then she stands up and brushes her teeth without a word. I just look at her smiling, admiring her beautiful ass and her naked body, and see her finish brushing.

"I couldn't leave you hanging like that," she flips as she kisses me with a fresh mouth, still naked. "Now as much as I hate to do it, let's get dressed and get ready for breakfast. I'm cooking." The best thing she's said all day - bearing in mind she gave me the blowjob without a word.

We quickly get dressed - Cherise puts on a matching blue bra and g-string at my suggestion, and over top of it a pair of tight Daisy Dukes and a tank top. Around the house, this is dressed up for her - yes, in the business world, she's very buttoned-up, but when she lets her hair down, the less she has to wear, the better. And since Cherise has never been even a bit disloyal to me since we started dating, I have no reason to object and every reason to love the liberated part-time nudist she is now.

We're to the kitchen with Cherise preparing one of her world-famous omelettes when the doorbell rings - it's Dad, of course, and he has his new girlfriend in tow. Her name is Angie, and she's exactly the kind of woman whose presence in Dad's life would be sure to piss off Mom to no end - she's 35, a realtor, very career-oriented, has an IQ of 132, and she speaks fluent Korean.

She's also fifteen years younger than Dad, and from looking at her, I see exactly what Dad sees in her - she's tall, takes great care of herself, and is absolutely gorgeous. She's not as beautiful as Cherise, even to the casual observer, but she's definitely more than attractive enough to make Dad a lucky man. And she's willing to move with him - they agreed on San Diego, about five hours away from Las Vegas.

The kicker, of course, is that Angie is black. Like father, like son, I guess, except Dad followed my example - dump the cheating bitch, let her face the consequences of her actions, and live the good life with a beautiful black woman on his arm. I'm just sorry he had to put up with Mom for so long - yes, she's my mother, yada yada, but let's be honest - Angie is a lot more fun than Mom. She's also smarter, funnier, and can keep up with me and Dad when we talk about business and money. Mom's only contribution to such a conversation is typically to scold us for being so business-minded and try to redirect it back to church and home functions.

But enough about the woman who wouldn't be here - I have guests to entertain. "l can't get over what a nice house this is," quips Angie, who's been in it only twice on the trip - she and Dad have spent a lot of time on the Strip. "And this is your first place, Dave? Wow. I'm impressed."

"Not as impressed as I am with that car out there," chimes in Dad. "What is that thing?"

"A Lambo," I reply - Lamborghini Roadster, cherry red, to be exact. It's Cherise's, of course, and it's not her everyday car. "It's hard to go back to my own car after getting behind the wheel of that bad boy." Even if mine is a Mercedes.

"I wish I could have lived the dream at 24," laments Dad. "Well, at least I can live it at 50."

"Yeah, you put up with Mom for way too long," I counter.

"I know," he replies as Cherise begins to serve us - she has an apron on over her tank top reading "Chef" in fancy lettering. "And there were lots of times I thought about leaving. But I stuck it out because I knew I could be a good husband and a better father for doing so." Or because Mom threatened to take him to the cleaners in court. "But I left when it was time. And I like to think I got rewarded for it." He says this as he puts his arm around a smiling Angie.

"I'm just really glad your ex has a restraining order, though," interjects Angie - turns out there's more to Mom's sentence than what I already knew. She's spent the last six months in jail and she stands to get out in two weeks, the day after Cherise and I get back from Maui. Honestly, I've been dreading it - but once Dad filled me in on the details of her probation, I relaxed. It turns out she can't contact me, Cherise, Dad, or anyone connected with us for five years. So one threatening message to Angie and her ass goes back to jail. It must piss her off so much not to be able to say anything, especially since she can't even make the crack about how Dad just wanted to leave her for a black woman anymore - because that's exactly what Dad did.

"So you guys are going to Maui?" Dad fires back, trying to change the subject.

"We leave this afternoon, The flight's about six hours so we'll be there in the evening Hawaii time." Hawaii's three hours behind us, so our 3:10 flight would land about 6:30 local time.

"And Sandy, you head back to Portland today?" She does, although she's none too pleased about it - she's grown spoiled staying with us and is already booking a return for July.

"I don't want to come across as the nagging mother," interjects Sandy after a while, "but I do have to ask - do you have plans for marriage?"

This was bound to come up. "No, not really,"coolly replies Cherise as she puts her hand in my lap. "I think Dave and I like our relationship just the way it is. Besides, marriage is so much paperwork. I do enough of that already." Good answer for me, I think.

The rest of breakfast seems to go pretty well, and it's almost noon by the time we agree to break it off. We say our goodbyes to Dad and Angie, who are off to their new dream home in San Diego, while Cherise and I head upstairs to get our last-minute things.

As I grab the bag, the door closes - and Cherise looks at me seductively. "Ready to go again, stud?" I look at her a little quizzically - she's serious. "We have time for a quickie before the car gets here. You in?"

I fling off my shirt and drop my shorts, and I tear the apron off her as we frantically get undressed. As I kiss her, I undo her blue bra, one that her breasts filled perfectly, and pull down her g-string. Even after getting a blowjob two hours ago, I'm hard as a rock for her again.

I throw her over the bed, her legs spread, and I pull her closer to me - she's face-down, flat on her stomach, and I'm in total control of her.

I grab her ass and feel down to her pussy - she's as ready as I am - and slip my cock in, holding onto her hips as she softly moans at being penetrated.

This time, I'm in control as I thrust into her hard and fast, not taking it easy on her at all. I grab onto her hips and ass as I ride her, holding her as tightly as I can and making sure she's totally at my command - and she knows it. And judging by her increasing screams, she loves it.