0 comments/ 74529 views/ 33 favorites Slots By: Cat5 I am a poker player, but not a gambler. Gamblers are people who play blackjack, craps, or the lotto—these people cannot win in the long term. It is a statistical certainty that they will lose; therefore, they are gambling. Good poker players only play those cards that statistically win over the long term; therefore, since I'm in that group, I am not a gambler. "OK, smart ass. If you are not a gambler, why were you sitting in front of a quarter slot machine preparing to throw away your first coin; especially since a slot machine is one of the biggest sucker games of chance in Las Vegas?" Good question, but I have an excellent answer; I was not playing to win money, nor was I bored, and my gambling philosophy had not taken a vacation from me. I was playing the slots for only one, logically consistent reason—to try to pick up the beautiful woman who was playing the slot machine on my right. My quest had started innocently enough. I was strolling through the casino floor on my way to work—the card room—when my thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream that rattled my eardrums. A three hundred pound female tourist had just won a fortune on her slot machine—a ten-dollar jackpot. Her husband, who weighed in at ninety pounds, had glanced at her and then quickened his pace as he put quarters into his machine even faster. I thought, "Why can't they have a back door into the card room to keep the gamblers separate from the rest of us?" My eyes almost made it back to my intended path when they locked onto a vision sitting in the middle of a row of slot machines. She was blond and maybe about five feet five inches tall. She was wearing one of those tops that leaves her shoulders bare down to the beginning of her breasts and then leaves six inches or so bare skin at her waist. The top accented some very nice breasts—medium-large size, and certainly a fantastic handful, and the six inches of skin at her waist showed a sensual, flat stomach. She had a cute pixie nose with a hint of an upturn. Another jackpot went off and she looked in my direction—blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a gold trinket on a thin chain against her chest again confirmed my earlier observation that she had the breasts of a goddess. I was between girlfriends, which was my usual condition. You can only do two things late at night—make love or play poker. Most...no I have to be honest...all of my past girlfriends had failed to realize the purity of my quest for statistical perfection as it related to poker playing. They somehow had elevated the 'cheap physical stuff' one does with the opposite sex at night to a pedestal much higher than my intellectual investment in poker playing. I suggested many times that we do the 'cheap physical stuff' in the morning when I got back from the card room. The answer was usually the same; "It is not romantic to roll around at nine o'clock in the morning versus doing the same physical deed at nine o'clock at night." And sometimes another highly unfair accusation was hurled at me, "You just want to get off so you can get to sleep easier!" I always became highly outraged at that crude character assassination of my sexual intent—that there was, on occasion, a tiny germ of truth in the comment made me even more indignant. So I was between girlfriends and for the last two months or so my body was arguing with my brain that the cheap physical stuff at night might be of equal importance as trying to extract money from not-too-bright tourists and tough locals at the card table...I hate to use the word 'horny' when there is a better way to describe the same physical condition. I stopped a change lady and gave her a gift of twenty dollars in exchange for an equal value of quarters. After mentally discarding several approaches, I walked up to my goddess, pointed at the slot machine on her left and asked, "Are you playing this machine too?" She looked at me with a small grin and answered, "I donated five dollars to that little sucker without a single winner. It's yours if you want to waste your money." I said, "Thanks a lot. I'm always careful when I sit down at a slot machine; I've witnessed some terrible fights on the slot machine floor that rivals the last Tyson fight. Last week someone 'stole' a machine that the other person was playing. It was horrible—beer throwing, hair pulling; and that was even before they really got mad at each other." She was laughing now and said, "I promise no beer throwing; I'm too smart to waste a valuable commodity." I continued, "Well good luck to the both of us. My name is Paul by the way. I'm a no good, rotten to the core person known as a local. I live in this city of sin and sex." She answered, "Good luck to you too. My name is Darla Robinson and I am one of those not too bright people you call a tourist." I grinned back at her and put in my first quarter. Jackpot—ten dollars! Darla yelped, "Look at that; I warmed up the machine for you with five dollars and with one quarter, you hit a jackpot. Are you always that good." My brain did a somersault with a half twist. You cannot be 'good' in playing the slots. Good implies there is a skill element involved, and that you used the skill correctly. In this case my skill element was pushing a button—I was too lazy to pull the handle. Statistically, there is no way to make money in the long term in games of chance. My jackpot was a mere random fluctuation. I answered Darla, "Well now you see why I'm so careful when I sit down at a slot machine. When you told me that you had the machine warmed up, I had a strong hunch that I was going to hit it. My hunches are usually pretty good when I play the slots; they are even better at Spin the Wheel. "I've got an idea that might interest you. The ten dollars is really half yours since you warmed up the machine for me. I'll donate the ten dollars into a pot and we could each put in ten dollars more and play these two machines. We will split any profits. "Now I have to admit, I'm being a little selfish here. You have warmed up your machine and statistically it is probably ready to pay off just like this one, so I'm taking advantage of you a little." Darla answered, "But you are putting twenty dollars into the pot and I am only putting in ten. That's a good deal for me. I'll do it partner." I grabbed one of those ubiquitous plastic cups that are synonymous with slot machines and put in the forty quarters I had just won plus added another forty quarters. Darla put in her forty quarters as I thought, "I can't believe I said that garbage with a straight face. Machines are not warmed up, nor are they statistically ready to pay off—it's random chance with no way of winning. But if that's what it takes to talk to Darla, I'll lower my intellectual principles and say whatever sounds good" I told Darla, "We will alternate machines; I just played, so it's your turn." She put in a quarter, turned to me and said, "I win much more by pulling the handle than by pushing the button." My brain did another belly flop as I grinned and answered, "I've heard people say that a lot, so there must be something to it." She turned back to the machine and pulled the handle. She stared at the slot reels turning. I stared at her breasts. I almost ducked as a piercing scream once again assaulted my eardrums—"JACKPOT...fifty dollars!" It was Darla and she was alternating between hugging me with those splendid breasts pressed against me, and those same breasts sliding up and down my chest as her feet left the floor during her jumps. I looked at her machine; it really was a fifty-dollar winner. "Absolute, blind luck," I thought. On the other hand there was a certain pleasure watching 200 quarters clinking down into the coin box at the base of the machine. Darla had pushed the button to cash out. She told me that a really good slot machine player said never let the credits build up in the machine; always make the machine pay. I thought my brain was doing a swan dive at this latest revelation. For the next hour we played the slots and talked. Darla had graduated from college a few years earlier and was now a teacher of junior high kids in a suburb of Chicago, while earning a masters degree at night. She had been to Las Vegas three or four times with friends, but when her girlfriend backed out at the last minute, Darla had decided to come anyway. Although it was the summer break from her teaching, she could only afford to be here for a week. With adroit questions I found out that she had broken up a few months previous with her boyfriend of many years. He had a choice to make—marry Darla or marry the boss's daughter. "I came in second," said Darla, "And after thinking about it, I'm glad I lost." Darla performed her own inquisition on me and managed to extract information on every ex-girlfriend I had in the last three years, along with her name, and length of service. Her inquisition was unfair and brutal—she smiled, she giggled, and she never let her breasts stray too far from my sight. She asked a key question, "Are all professional poker players nuts, or do they act nuts to show people that they are professional poker players?" I defended my poker clique with a question of my own: "What is so nuts about playing cards all night, sleeping all day, and going through girlfriends at a pace of three or four per year?" My brilliant answered obviously stumped her. She stared at me and then broke into a sidesplitting laugh as she punched my arm. She gasped, "What a great sense of humor. You said that totally dead serious. I kept looking for you to start grinning at such a nonsensical statement, but you kept your poker face. If only my ex boyfriend had such a sense of humor." I took the chicken's way out and said, "Darla, we ran our thirty dollar bankroll to over a hundred dollars. Let's go to a quiet bar in the casino and count our quarters and have a drink?" She readily agreed and I led the way to my favorite bar in the casino—relatively dark, no singers and few tourists. We counted the quarters. I know; you go to the cashier and she throws your bucket of quarters into a machine and in mille-seconds the machine says how much money you are to be paid. However, tourists like to count their quarters; so we counted, drank, and talked. I thought, "This is a completely dysfunctional relationship. She believes in luck and I believe luck is the narcotic of a tourist. She talks to slot machines; I hate them. She thinks poker playing all night is idiotic, but that is my vocation. Why am I talking to this female?" I rationalized, "Because, you idiot, she is the most beautiful female you have met in the last three years, her breasts are not man made, and when she grins at you, you melt. "I can continue to pretend that luck is part of gambling; that I have a 'feel' for slot machines, and that maybe I could discipline myself to play cards only half a night, if my reward was this goddess in my bed doing the 'cheap physical stuff' when I came home from the tables. "No way, I can't lower my standards that much," the right side of my brain side. The left side of my brain, which controlled the lower part of me said, "Don't be so quick to kick this beauty out of your bed...don't be a chump." The center part of my brain said, "You got to be shitting me; you are already kicking her out of bed when the most you got so far is some breast pushing when she won a jackpot...give me a break." To say the least, I was confused. We sipped our drinks and counted our quarters. We had run thirty dollars of quarters into one hundred and three dollars. Darla was excited and said, "This is the most I have won in Las Vegas ever! It was really a lot of fun, and you made it happen. How can I thank you Paul?" I answered, "That's easy. We take these quarters to the cashier and turn them into real money. We take this real money to a small, local's restaurant and have the best dinner in Las Vegas that you will ever experience." Darla gave me a grin that I already had named 'that look.' She said, "Fantastic; I agree." I paid the bill and we left with our quarters to cash in. I was thinking that I had to dispel her idiotic idea that slot machines could be beat. I knew a relationship based on the belief that playing slots was a game of skill was doomed to a very unsatisfactory conclusion. I spotted my beginning tactic—the progressive slot machine isle was located next to the cashier's cage where our quarters were going to be changed to real money. The flashing sign said that the progressive jackpot was now $212,169. I pointed at the flashing sign to Darla and said, "Last week the jackpot was up to eight million plus dollars. A little old lady with a walker and bottle of oxygen put in three dollars and won the jackpot. It is amazing how luck is everything in playing slots." Darla said, "That's not completely true Paul. You played our two machines like an expert. You knew that they were ready to pay off, and they did! Some people have the feel for that, but most don't. You have a gift." I thought, "Fantastic! What a great opportunity to show her how silly this whole 'skill' thing is. Really ham this one up Paul." I turned to Darla and said, "I rarely get a strong feeling on something like this, but right now I just know the progressive jackpot is going to pay off. Normally it takes months before another winner comes along, but this thing is going to pay off soon. "We have one hundred and three dollars in our partnership. Let's each donate a dollar fifty and play the progressive for one pull. We will be partners on this—right down the middle. It's just this strong hunch I have, and of course we probably won't win, but what the heck." I thought, "What absolute bullshit I am putting out to stay close to this goddess." Darla looked at me and grinned as she said, "Go for it partner." I fed the machine three dollars, but just before I pushed the button to get the reels turning, I looked at Darla and said, "You told me it's much more profitable to pull the handle then push the button, so why don't you pull the handle?" She reached for the handle as I thought, "This is just one small step to show her that there is no skill in playing the slots. Three dollars down the drain is such a cheap lesson." Now those of you who are afflicted with the slot machine disease know that when you pull the handle, the reels turn. When the first reel stops, the others stop so fast that you see them, but your brain doesn't connect immediately. So when the first reel stopped on the jackpot symbol, the siren noise and the lights flashing hit me before my brain registered that all the reels had stopped on the jackpot symbol. We hit the jackpot! Darla was screaming and doing that thing with her breasts against my body again. This time she added a kiss that must have shattered some world record somewhere for intensity. The manager of slot machines quickly walked up to us and introduced himself. He said, "Folks, this is always a bit of a production, so let me explain what is going to happen. The first thing we will do is a physical check of the machine to verify that there really was a jackpot and not a machine malfunction. At the same time we will be looking at the film of you winning the jackpot to make sure everything was on the up and up. Then we get into the paperwork phase—are you two married?" I answered, "No, just friends." He asked, "Did one of you win the jackpot or were you partners? Darla said, "We are partners right down the middle." She squeezed my hand and then grinned and gave me another kiss. "But close partners," she continued. The manager said, "Well that means we will have two 1064 forms made out for the IRS. We will need to see picture identification, get your social security numbers, legal address, and full names. Once all that information is completed, we will cut you a check for eighty percent of the winnings for each of you—twenty percent is withheld for tax purposes. And of course you will have to report your winnings at the end of your tax year to the Internal Revenue Service. "Let' see...the jackpot was $212,169 which means each of you won a bit over $106,000 and that means you will each receive a check for about $85,000 after we withhold Uncle's share. "Finally, our public relations department will want to take a picture of you for the newspaper. You don't have to agree, but generally most winners don't mind it—we never give your address or home town; we just give an approximate location where you live." The manager suggested we go back to the quiet bar and he would join us once the machine check, film review, and the IRS forms were completed. Darla was in absolute ecstasy. She never let go of my hand and every time we looked at each other, she kissed me. She repeatedly said, "I just knew you were an expert on slot machines. It's almost not fair that I have taken advantage of your slot machine skills by being your partner." I said, "Darla, we are partners, so none of that talk." I thought, "I just won $85,000 on pure luck in an attempt to teach Darla that there is no skill in playing slots. The money is fantastic, but the guys in the poker room are going to tease the shit out of me—professional poker player wasting money on the slots. And then there is Darla; not only is she beautiful, but also, she hasn't taken her hands off me. If we weren't in a public place, this could have gone to a much higher sexual level." I continued speaking, "Darla, this has never happened to me before. What a day—from the quarter slots to a progressive jackpot. I'm overwhelmed by it all." She grinned again and leaned over to give me another kiss. Just then the slot machine manager came to our table followed by a woman and a man carrying a camera. The manager said, "Congratulations, you are now official winners of the jackpot. As soon as you sign this tax form, I will give you the checks." We signed and he gave a check to each of us made out for $84,867.60. He said, "I would like to introduce you to the head of public relations—Rita Wilson—she would like to take a few pictures of you." Rita smiled at us and said, "The casino would really like to have pictures of you two that we can use for promotional purposes. We won't reveal your address or any other private information. "Oh, by the way, are you two staying at the casino?" Darla said, "I am staying here for a week, but Paul isn't, since he lives in Las Vegas." Rita responded, "Traditionally, if a jackpot winner is staying with us, as an added bonus for letting us take their picture for promotional use, we upgrade the room and comp you." Darla asked, "Comp me? What does that mean?" Rita answered, "It means we will move you into one of the smaller suites at no charge to you—you are a guest of the casino for the rest of the week." Darla squealed in excitement as I thought, "I really was going to try to talk Darla out of the picture taking; I'm going to be embarrassed enough in the poker room. I don't need pictures. But that squeal tells me that Darla is going to want the pictures for sure—a suite for free is a hell of an enticement." Darla squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes as she pleaded, "You don't mind if they take our picture, do you?" I lost the battle before it started and surrendered without a fight, "Of course not partner; why would I mind?" We went back to the progressive slot machine area and posed for the pictures. First Rita had us facing each other with our hands on each other's waist kissing, while staring into each other's eyes. My hands touched part of Darla's semi-naked hips—they felt wonderful. Next I stood behind her with my hands on her bare stomach and her hands on top of mine as we both looked at the camera. Her skin was cool to the touch as my hands pressed into her tight stomach. Of course, I had an erection, which Darla had to feel as her butt was touching my pelvis. Slots Finally, Rita suggested that I put my arms around Darla just below her breasts; her hands on mine as she turned her head to look at me. My arms felt the bottom of her breasts slightly, but then Darla pulled my hands higher so that my arms were lifting her breasts. My erection continued to probe her, and this time I felt her lean into me. As the picture was taken she looked into my eyes and smiled. Rita said, "You two are really hot. You are both good looking and you can almost feel your relationship in the picture. I have another proposal for you. We have four other properties in town. If you agree for a picture shoot in each of the four casinos showing you trying your luck on our other slot machine floors, the casino will throw in a limo at your call and comp you for dinner each night anywhere on the Strip. What do you say?" Darla excitedly said, "It's a deal. But there is a problem. Except for a classy dress, I didn't bring too many clothes. I guess I would have to go shopping so that I'm not wearing the same thing in each of your casinos." I thought, "Is this cute little blond partner of mine negotiating?" Rita answered, "Darla, that's not a problem. If you let us take pictures of you and Paul buying your clothes at our casino stores with part of your winnings, the casino will comp you the clothes too." Darla was beaming and asked me, "You'll do it, won't you?" My brain said, "No, no, no"...the breasts that I had just felt, trumped my brain as I nodded my head yes. Darla and I agreed to eat at the best restaurant in the casino that we were in for our first free dinner. Darla went with Rita to the VIP room to coordinate the room change for Darla and set up the free billing. Darla and I agreed to meet at 7:00—I would call her room after I returned wearing something more appropriate for a high-class restaurant. I returned to the casino at seven and asked the operator to connect me with Darla's room. She answered the phone and I said, "Hi partner." She answered, "Paul, you've got to see this room. It's fabulous—by far the nicest hotel room I have ever seen. Come up and let me show you; it is room 3369." I knocked on the door and she opened it for me. She was smiling and looked beautiful in a simple dress that left her shoulders bare to the beginning of her breasts. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room, as she said, "Isn't this amazing?" It was a very nice suite. The sitting area had two couches and two large chairs with a fancy coffee table. There was a modest granite wet bar in the corner with a refrigerator and icemaker. You stepped up to enter the sleeping area—a giant king-size bed with the headboard being the entire wall of cut glass mirrors. The side tables, armoire, and other furniture were of the highest quality. Another entire wall of the room was a series of windows that looked over the Strip. I said, "What a great room; and you got it free. You are a good negotiator. Darla laughed and said, "I didn't negotiate anything...well maybe the clothes; you know that. This is all because you made me your partner. I think we should kiss to seal the deal again." She stepped into my arms and we kissed. I felt her tongue pushing against my lips and opened my mouth; our tongues probed each other. When we came up for air I stepped back a little and rested my hands on her hips. Darla looked at me and said, "Just so you know Paul, I am a touchy type of person, especially when I am happy, and we only have a week. I am really happy now after a fabulous day, so please don't get shy on me." With that she took my hands in hers and raised them to her breasts. I covered her breasts and lightly caressed them. Her eyes closed as my hands explored those wonderful mounds. She opened her eyes and grinned as she said, "Too bad for you, but the reservation was for seven o'clock, and we are late." I reluctantly released her breasts, gave her a kiss and we left the room holding hands. "The night is young," I thought. The dinner was excellent as you expect from the premier restaurant in one of the most expensive casinos in Las Vegas. It was obvious that the staff knew we were comped, but they didn't know why. They went out of their way to keep us 'important people' happy. Darla was on an upper. She talked about the money she had won the first day in Las Vegas. She wondered how she should invest her money; would it change her life; should she keep gambling. Finally she looked at me and said, "I owe you a lot and you have been wonderful to me. The only way to thank you is to do another selfish thing—I want to go upstairs and have you make love to me. I want you to touch and tease me everywhere, and when I can't stand it another second, I want you in me. Could you do that for me...please?" I was more than surprised. What Darla was suggesting was my game plan. My theory was that the male is the dominant half and the female, in their normal submissive role, should be persuaded and then succumb to the dominant male's persuasions. Here the female, in this case Darla, was acting as if she were at least a co-equal partner. Before I continued my intellectual interrogative regarding this role reversal enigma, the left side of my brain joined the center of my brain and said, "Smile and look into her eyes, touch her hand lightly and say, 'What a wonderful idea; I wish I would have thought of it first.' I signed for the bill and left a very large tip, since the comps never include tipping, and stood up with Darla. She reached for my hand and we went back to her room together. I hoped all the people we passed had their eyes only on my goddess, since my pants seemed to have developed a significant bulge in an awkward place. The room door closed and we were in each other's arms. Her lips pressed into mine; her perfume and body scent assaulted my olfactory senses, and her breasts continued their sexual teasing. Our mouths opened and our tongues explored each other. Finally, the never ending kiss ended and Darla stepped back. Her face was flush and her eyes stared into mine. She said, "Would you let me take off your clothes first, and then I would like you to strip me?" I nodded yes—did I have any better alternative? Darla took my sports coat and hung it around the back of a chair. As she undid the buttons of my shirt her eyes never left mine. She pulled the shirt free of my waist and removed it from my shoulders. Gently, she guided me to sit in the chair as she knelt before me and removed my shoes and socks. She took my hands and pulled me to stand again; we kissed. Her hands went to my belt, which opened easily. The button gave way, the zipper came down and the pants fell to the floor. She had me step out of them and neatly folded them and placed them on the chair. She turned to me again and lifted my undershirt over my head; I bent to help her. Only my shorts were left. My erection was clearly visible and my pre-cum had created a four-inch diameter circle. She knelt before me and slipped her fingers around the elastic of the waist and pulled the shorts down. My erection caused a minor blockage, but then my penis swung free and the shorts were on the ground. Darla's hands cupped my balls as she looked at my fully erect penis. She looked up at me and said, "God, it is so beautiful." She took me into my mouth and caressed my balls for seconds, and then, just as my body started to enter stage two of ultimate lust, she stood up and said, "Your turn." Frustrated, but eager to proceed, I turned her so that I could manipulate the dress off her beautiful body. The button and zipper easily gave way and she stepped out of her dress, which I put on the couch. I proceeded to remove each article of clothing on her until she stood there in bra and panties. The bra was a wisp of material that supported her breasts, and hid nothing. Her aureoles were larger than I expected and her nipples were already hard. We faced each other and then I stepped into her arms; we kissed as my hands unclasped her bra. When I stepped back, I pulled her bra from her and let it fall to the floor. Her thong panties were made of a sheer material that again hid nothing. Her trimmed pubic hair in a heart shape was black. I touched her pelvis through the material and found the panties were soaked with her moisture. I knelt before her and pulled the thong from her hips, and then down her legs. I reached behind her thighs and pulled her into me, her moist pubic hair touched my face. Her outer lips were already partially open; my fingers widened the opening and my flat tongue swiped her insides from below her vagina to her clitoris. She moaned for the first time. Her fingers beat some type of love sung on my shoulders and my tongue again teased her entire opening. Her legs opened wider for me as I penetrated her gently with my finger, and then two fingers. She gasped with pleasure and whispered, "Oh yes." I finally stood up and led her to the bed, which had already been turned down. I laid her on her back; she spread her legs slightly apart. Her eyes were closed as I knelt next to her on the bed and lightly brushed my lips against her eyelids and then her lips. I kissed her shoulders and her neck as my hands were resting on her breasts that now got my full attention. Darla's breasts were beautiful; slightly flattened because of her position, but the nipples were erect and hard. I ignored her nipples as I squeezed and caressed her breast with my hands—molding them as I applied pressure. I kissed the mounds of her breasts repeatedly and then, wetting my tongue, started to tease her areoles with wet circles of pressure. She moaned again and turned so that my tongue would pleasure her nipples, but I continued to avoid those sensitive beacons of lust. She groaned, "Touch my nipples...please." I ignored her pleas. She tried to put her arms around me; I held her arms on the bed. Finally, my mouth went to each nipple and slowly sucked each one. Her hips arched up with the first contact and her moans became much louder. I let go of one of her arms and brushed my hand against her pelvis—her moist hair aroused me as my fingers explored her. Again two fingers penetrated her and explored her vagina exerting pressure against her walls. By now her groans had become guttural pleadings for me to finish--to give her release. My mouth left her nipples and went to her clitoris, which my tongue gently teased. I knew that she had only moments before she would come. I knelt before her and lifted her hips up as I positioned my thighs so that I could go into her as far as physically possible. I put myself into her quickly and felt her wet vagina encircle me, and then felt a light squeeze as her muscles contracted. Moments later she screamed my name and arched her hips into me; her head was moving back and forth as her body lost all control in its effort to take more of me. As I emptied myself into her, her spasms that had started to slow briefly began again and then she was done, and so was I. We lay on our sides looking and touching each other. Darla had started talking again. She wanly smiled at me and said, "I don't know if I love you, or whether you could ever love me, but I know from what you just did to me that we have mutual lust. I wanted you from the moment you came up to me at the slot machine. I want to tell you what I think and feel, and I like to touch you. When you finally came into me, it was heaven. I could feel you go all the way in and just before I started to come, you somehow made it bigger and I felt that. We only have six more days. I am yours if you want me?" I kissed her deeply and pulled her to me. In moments she fell asleep. Twice she woke me during the night; our lovemaking was intense. As I fell asleep for the third time I wondered, "Is it only lust, or could this be love?" I slept; the question went unanswered. The shower woke me. Minutes later Darla walked out of the bathroom. She was naked and made no attempt to hide herself from my eyes. She grinned at me and said, "Good morning sleepy. We have things to do--clothes to buy on the house, and pictures to make. First clean up and then let's get some coffee. Rita said to meet her at the front door at 10:30—we have two casinos to go to today and two more tomorrow. The picture taking took most of the day. Rita had really gotten into it. We were going to be the perfect Las Vegas couple that enjoys the casino shops, plays the slots and has a great time in the fantasy world of the Strip. I bit my tongue and said nothing, since I had already agreed to go along with the story. My fear and question was how bad had my reputation suffered among the locals in the card room? I knew what they would think—I had fallen off the wagon of a pure poker player and had humiliated myself by partaking in the silly world of gambling. Tourists, and Darla was a tourist, could never understand how grievous an offense I had made against the purity of professional card playing. After an early dinner at the casino next to us, I led Darla to the card room. She was holding my hand and wouldn't let go. Several times I tried to explain that maybe she should not come with me to the card room this first time after our progressive win, but the hurt in her eyes immediately made me stop. I lamely said, "I just don't want you to be bored." I went up to the brush and asked if there was a seat open at the 20-40 Hold'em game. He grinned and said, "We have been holding it for you." As I walked up to my table I spotted six locals and three tourists with the one seat empty waiting for me. As I approached the table I spotted a small, silver square thing in front of each local. I reached the table and groaned—the silver thing was a toy slot machine. Six locals all pulled the handle and the reels spun. A mechanical voice came from each machine and said, "Here comes the jackpot." One local jumped up and asked for my autograph. Another pressed a completed loan application into my hands—he only needed $85,000. Three other locals said they had collectively signed up eight-nine people for a two-hour seminar with me teaching them how to beat the Las Vegas slots. Of course my face was red and I was getting pissed. Darla, misunderstanding these locals, was beaming at my popularity. Finally, I looked at Roy; the one local I respected for common sense and card playing. He said in a serious voice, "Sometimes you stray from the path Paul. The best thing to do is jump back on the horse and pick up the pieces. "It happens to all of us. I actually caught Traci putting a one-dollar bet on Spin the Wheel earlier this week. I forgave her for this venial sin, but warned her that the path to gambling is like hell—easy to get into, but very difficult to get out." Traci was Roy's girlfriend and she was gorgeous. When I first saw those two together I was instantly jealous. She was five feet six inches or so, and like Darla, a blond with very nice breasts. Traci had a great personality; she talked to everyone. Once the locals saw that she was hooked up with Roy, she became one of the locals. She was a good, but not great low limit Hold'em player. I watched her play 6-12 a few times—Roy almost always sat behind her for a while until his game started—and her play was solid, just not creative enough for the big time. I thought she would move up to 10-20 in a few months if she kept working on her game. Traci usually was sitting behind Roy when she quit her 6-12 game. Traci grinned at Darla and me and I sat down with my chips. Just then the dealer shift ended and Steve, one of the better dealers in the card room came up to deal his shift. He had a twenty-inch by forty-inch cardboard under his arm. Just before he sat down he looked at me and said, "My wife Sheila asked if you would do a favor for us Paul. For posterity we need your signature on this picture." It was a blown up picture of Darla and me with my arms pushing against her breasts and with us both facing the camera. The caption in the morning paper read 'Poker Professional Branches Out.' My face went red. The tourists were confused and the locals at the table were openly laughing. Darla said, "What a great picture. Do I get to sign it too?" A new round of chuckles started...it was even worse than I expected from these professional friends of mine. Maintaining a modicum of calmness I said to Steve, "It's hard to tip you Steve, if you don't deal the cards." Steve grinned and answered, "Yes sir, slots professional." Finally Steve started to deal and I began to play the cards. Darla was behind me watching the cards and trying to figure out the game. I was so anxious to start playing that I forgot to explain the rules of Hold'em to her. She didn't seem to mind. All the ribbing had put me off my game. I was determined to close my mind to all outside distractions and to start playing up to my potential. The hands went by and I won a couple of small pots, but nothing special. Then a hand started. The two blinds put up their antis of ten dollars and twenty dollars and the first one to bet or fold was Roy. He raised the bet to forty dollars. The other players folded to me and I looked at my two down cards. They were two kings; it was an excellent starting hand. I raised another twenty dollars. Everyone else folded. Roy called. I knew that Roy was a creative poker player, but not a wild one; and I knew he respected my ability. The pot had $150 in it, and there was just the two of us left playing the hand. Steve dealt the three up cards and they were a two, an eight, and an ace, all of different suits. The good news was that it was a ragged flop with little chance that it would help Roy if he were drawing for a straight or flush. The bad news was the ace. Roy came out betting twenty dollars. I went into a huddle with my brain. What could Roy have? With the first two cards he came out betting in the first position, so if he had a pair it would have to be a decent pair of maybe nines, but most likely tens or higher. He would also probably raise with ace and jack, ace and queen, or ace and king. But then I raised him. I was telling him that I knew he had a decent hand, but mine was better. He had to read me for two queens or higher pair or maybe an ace and king. But now after the three up cards were shown, he bet! He was telling me that I know you have a very good hand, but mine is better. Roy wouldn't try to bluff me at this stage because he knew I played solid, statistical poker. I thought, "I'm in big trouble. He would not bet into me with two queens. He must have started with an ace and king. He couldn't have started with two kings or aces because he would have re-raised me earlier, but he had just called. So, Roy had to have started with an ace and a king and now he has two aces against my two kings. I did the statistics. If he started with an ace and king, then there was only one king left in the deck. It was a forty-seven to one shot that the next card would be a king, but I had to put in twenty dollars to find out. There was $170 in the pot, so the pot was giving me less than nine to one to go for a forty-seven to one possibility. This was a no brainer—it was a clear fold; there was no doubt in my mind that I shouldn't waste my twenty dollars to see the next card. As I opened my mouth to say, "Fold," I felt Darla's hand on my shoulder and she squeezed it. The squeeze felt nice; she was a touchy type of girl, and I was starting to appreciate her assets as I said, "Call." "CALL!" I thought, "What have I done? My mind had gone south on a simple squeeze from a beautiful female. I meant to say 'fold.' I thought, "How the hell could I have done that?" It was too late to change. I put in the four red chips and Steve dealt the fourth up card. It was a king—out of forty-seven possible cards, I got the only one that could improve my hand! I now had three kings against Roy's two aces. Slots I was mortified. What a dumb play—the kind a tourist would make, but this time, I was the one who made it. Roy was clearly puzzled. He had assumed that I would fold and was surprised when I called. It was his turn to bet. He said, "Check." Roy had to have two pair—aces and kings against my three kings. I bet forty dollars. Clearly confused at what I held, Roy called my bet. The last card was turned up. It was a nothing. Roy checked and called when I bet another forty dollars. The pot was $350 dollars of which all but $30 dollars had been put in by Roy and me. We turned our cards over. Roy saw my three kings. He blinked and then looked at me as he said, "You win Paul...nice hand." Traci chuckled first and then I spotted Steve grinning followed by the other locals. The tourists continued to look confused. Roy had replayed the hand in his mind instantly and said to me in gently sarcastic way, "Nice call on the flop to get the last king. Your slots partner is not only very pretty, but she brings you luck too." Darla and the three tourists were in the dark. Everyone else at the table knew what a bonehead play I had made; that I won the hand was completely unimportant. I was embarrassed; I could feel my face flush as I heard Darla's squeal of pleasure as the chips were pushed to me. She pulled my arm and said, "Now that I know you're back to your good game, do you mind if I wander around for a couple of hours? Gratefully I said, "I'll miss you, but go have fun and come back when you want." The giggles were over and the next hand had started. I hunkered down and thought to myself, "Perfect poker from now on...no mental mistakes; just play your game." For the next three hours I played perfect poker. I did not make a single mistake; every time the odds were with me I bet, and when they were not I checked or folded. Unfortunately, the random nature of the cards was not conducive to my card playing. If it were a fifty-fifty chance that I would win a three hundred dollar pot by calling a forty-dollar bet, I put in my money, and lost. Poker is frustrating that way—just because you make the right decision doesn't mean the right cards will come up. Now the right cards will come up in the long term, but a few hours of playing was not the long term. So I was stuck—poker language for losing—to the tune of four hundred dollars. The last hand had just ended when I felt a tap on my shoulder. She was grinning and said, "How are you doing partner?" I answered quietly, "Oh, I'm down a couple of bucks." Darla giggled and said excitedly, "Well that's OK since I went to the casino next door and saw a slots tournament sign. I paid twenty-five dollars to play and came in second. I won four hundred dollars! Isn't that great?" The chuckles started again. I had a choice to make—defend my poker reputation with a put down retort to her lucky winning or make my partner happy. It was decision time with my relationship with Darla. I said, "I think that's absolutely fantastic! What a team we are." I looked at Roy expecting to see a grin on his face. Instead he had a serious look as he nodded his head in approval. Before I could think that one out, another illogical event occurred—female telepathy. Without a word Trace stood up and started to walk out of the poker room; Darla squeezed my shoulder and followed Traci. The card game continued for another twenty minutes when Roy pointed his finger and said, "It looks like a bonding type of thing to me." I looked where he was pointing and saw Traci and Darla. They were on the rail of the poker room smiling and talking. Darla pointed her finger in our general direction and Traci immediately started laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Then Traci said something and it was Darla's turn to be hysterical. The two blonds were like sisters at a family reunion. Eventually they came back to the table grinning and talking. Darla sat behind me again, and I played another thirty minutes winning a few and losing a few. I thought to myself, "There is something else to do at night, isn't there Paul?" I turned to Darla and said, "I'm a little tired. Maybe we should call it a night?" The smile on her face was a very positive yes. After Darla came twice and me once, we lay side by side going over the day—from the clothes buying to her tournament win. I had lost money at poker, but it had been a wonderful day. This girl was fantastic; her sexuality and body blended in so perfectly with my own, that the sex, or lust, or love—whatever it was—made this female the best thing I had ever experienced. "If only," I thought, "She had just a touch of quantitative logic in her approach to life." She kissed me again and I thought, "Well, maybe that's not the end of the world." I asked her, "You and Traci seemed to have gotten along? What did you talk about?" Darla answered, "We just talked girl talk. I really like her. She really makes you feel good." I closed my eyes briefly; Darla was shaking me and said, "Wake up sleepy head. We have more clothes to buy and pictures to take." It was morning. Except for one intense, but brief, sexual encounter with Darla, I had slept the entire night without waking. The morning was hectic but fun. Darla bought clothes. The pictures they took showed me helping her pick out the good stuff—don't believe everything you see. We went to the last two casinos in the group and had our pictures taken in front of various slot machines as if we were playing. Actually, one time Darla snuck a quarter into the machine just before the picture was taken. Of course, another ten-dollar jackpot hit. That picture caught Darla hugging me with her feet in the air—my Darla gets very excited when a jackpot comes in. The work over for the day, I had the limo drive out Charleston to Red Rock Canyon to show Darla the desert. She was amazed at the beauty of the canyon. We returned to the casino and decided to go swimming. I had brought my suit from my apartment and Darla put on her newly purchased bikini. She stood there in front of me in the most miniscule bikini that man or woman had ever invented and I said, "Well don't you think you need to put on your swimming suit?" She said, "It is on." I answered, "Where?" She looked down a second and then figured it out. "Paul, you are an absolute nut. This covers all the important stuff. You're just teasing me." After our swim we had another great dinner. I won a little at poker that night. After thirty minutes or so into the poker game, Traci and Darla disappeared again for a couple of hours and came back laughing. They had been 'shopping' and won ten dollars at spin the Wheel. I looked at Roy and he just shrugged. I left the game to go to the bathroom and as I was walking back to the card room I ran into Traci who also apparently had the same urge. She looked at me and said, "I really like Darla. What a winner she is and, if you don't mind me saying so, well above your normal picks. She is great!" For the first time I had a chance to talk to someone about my situation. I said, "Traci, Darla is absolutely fantastic and I could really fall for her. My problem is that she doesn't have any feel whatsoever for what Roy and I do—the statistics, the intensity of the game. She hasn't shown me that she has a clue about odds and probabilities. If she's all feel and I am all numbers, it could be a relationship disaster. Tell me I'm wrong?" Traci looked at me and hesitated. Finally she said, "Well maybe you don't know the complete Darla yet." She grinned and said, "You still have time to know more about her, don't you?" The next two days and nights were a repeat—wonderful sex, some silly tourist stuff and some serious poker playing. We were going back to the hotel room to change for dinner. This time we had picked a very expensive restaurant on the Strip and the limo would be waiting for us in forty-five minutes. As we closed the door, Darla turned and kissed me. I asked, "What was that for?" "Just a thank you for some wonderful days," she answered. I looked at her and said, "Too bad we don't have more time for some physical stuff Darla. Your body is too beautiful to leave untouched for long." She grinned and said, "We have time. You can come as fast as anybody I know, if you want to." "That's not true," I answered. "You come faster than anybody I know when you want to." Darla grinned and said, "Those are betting words. I know them when I hear them. Here are the rules. Both of us get naked. One of us is the aggressor and the other is the passive person. The passive person lies on the bed with their hands above their head as if they were tied. The aggressor makes the other one come using only their mouth and tongue. The one who holds out the longest is the winner. We flip to see who goes first. Bet?" Of course I couldn't refuse. We flipped and Darla lost. I was first to be the aggressor. We stripped quickly and she lay on the bed with her hands above her head and her legs slightly spread. She looked at the bedside clock and said, "Go." I knew she thought that I would go right to her clitoris, but she was wrong. Darla's nipples were very sensitive and so my first assault was there. It was awkward to kiss and tongue and suck nipples when you can't use your hands, but after a minute or so I was awarded with the first moan. That was my signal that she was starting to be aroused. I quickly shifted south and tried to penetrate her labia lips to reach her clitoris. Again, without the use of your hands and fingers, it is different. My tongue finally reached its target and it went to work. The moans and shifting of her hips were telling me that I was getting to her, but it was taking time. Finally, she screamed, "Oh shit." Her hips arched into my face and her orgasm began. When she finished she grinned and looked at the clock. She said, "I held out six minutes and twenty seconds Paul. Can you do as well?" I replied, "Well we won't know until we try." We reversed positions and Darla checked the clock and said, "Go." It really was unfair. I was already fully hard after making Darla come, and now she was attacking me. Her tongue went immediately between my legs. She licked me under my balls and then took one in her mouth and tickled it with her tongue. "How can she do that?" I thought. She repeated the same thing on the other one. Finally, after several unsuccessfully attempt at capturing my penis in her mouth—like bobbing for apples when you can't use your hands—she captured it and started. The rest was history as I came into her mouth moments later. She looked at the clock and grinned as she said, "Three minutes and ten seconds. I win!" "What's the prize?" I asked. Darla answered, "I'll have to think about the prize. Right now we have to take a quick shower together and get dressed because the limo and our dinner is waiting." The dinner was fantastic. We were on the top floor of the casino restaurant looking over the Strip. The room was fairly dark with the table candle giving some light. Darla sat across from me in her dress that only started at her breasts. The flickering candlelight reflected off her bare skin and eyes. I got hard just looking at her. After dinner we changed and went to the poker room. After thirty minutes, per usual, Traci and Darla disappeared for a few hours. The game tonight was perfect. One local was there other than Roy and me and seven tourists. Roy and I did our best to make the tourists feel welcome. Roy can tell some good jokes when he wants to so the table stayed loose. The tourists were happy and almost enjoyed losing their money. The cards were like the first night for me. This time, however, whenever I needed to get that one card to make the hand, I did. By the time Darla and Traci came back, I was up twelve hundred or so. Roy had a significant win also, and the tourists were all stuck...but happy stuck. We played a while longer, but the hand on my shoulder felt so comfortable that I thought that maybe we should end the day on a good note. Darla and I said good night to all and left the card room. Darla looked at me when we were in the elevator by ourselves and asked, "Rematch?" "Nope," I replied. "I just want some good old fashion sex. If you are good, you can be on top once." She grinned. The elevator door opened at our floor and as we left the elevator Darla said, "Oh by the way, the prize from the earlier contest is that I am on top first!" I heard, "Get up sleepy." I opened my eyes and there was Darla standing over me; nude like every other morning. She said, "We need to get going. A quick breakfast or coffee and then some shopping." I asked, "Shopping? The picture taking is done. What do you need to buy?" She answered, "I need hiking boots and some sweat socks. And you need the same thing unless you already own them." "Why," I asked puzzled. Darla grinned and said, "I guess I didn't tell you. Steve the dealer and his wife Sheila went on vacation for ten days. They are letting Roy and Traci use their mountain cabin, and they invited us up there for the day. We are going to hike and then go back to the cabin for a barbecue dinner. Traci bought all the food, so all we need to do is to get some hiking boots." The limo took us to the store and we bought our hiking stuff. Darla handed the driver written instructions how to get to the cabin. The instructions were excellent and we arrived at noon. Roy and Traci heard the car stop and came out to meet us. Roy suggested the driver come back about nine o'clock. We got a quick tour of the cabin including a great back porch with built in hot tub. We spent the next five hours hiking easy trails. I was astonished on how beautiful the mountains were including the mountain lake fed by the winter melt. Darla was even more impressed. At one point Roy said, "Tourists never realize how much there is to do around Las Vegas. At certain times of the year you can drive forty-five minutes and be water skiing in Lake Mead, or you can drive the other way to the mountains and be snow skiing. The tourists never get off the Strip. Sometimes the locals don't either. Traci and I are lucky that people showed us there is life off the Strip." Darla said, "I never dreamed it was like this near Las Vegas. You guys are so lucky to live here." We arrived back at the cabin a little before five o'clock. Roy opened two beers for him and me, and then opened a chilled bottle of white wine for Traci and Darla. We joked and talked about the goofy things that happen in the town we loved. Eventually, Traci said, "I'm starting to get hungry. Is anyone else?" I realized that I was starving. The hiking had taken its toll on my body, and the alcohol had whetted my appetite. I replied, "I could eat a cow." Traci laughed and said, "That is about the size of the steaks that you and Roy are going to cook." Start the fire and Darla and I will worry about the side stuff. As it turned out, we were all starving. The meal was excellent—helped by two more bottles of wine. Roy and I sat talking in the main room as Darla and Traci cleaned up after the meal. From a distance I heard Traci yell, "Roy, we're in the back." We walked out and found Traci and Darla looking up and grinning at us—they were in the spa. Darla said, "This feels wonderful Paul. I was just starting to stiffen up and Traci said we should use the spa to let our muscles relax." I said, "But Darla I didn't bring my suit." Darla grinned and said, "Neither did I silly." Traci and Darla were naked; hidden by the bubbles created by the water jets. Traci said to Roy, "Why don't you get some towels and robes and some wine and then join us. And as much as a Las Vegas person can keep a promise, we promise not to peek when you two get in." As I slipped beneath the water facing Darla, she giggled and said, "I'm not from Las Vegas—I peeked." I was facing Darla and my legs were interlaced with her legs. Her feet were within six inches of my balls. Knowing that, my erection was immediate, but no one could see. None of us talked for a while as we enjoyed the relaxing water jets soothe our muscles. Finally Traci said, "For Roy and me, it really started in this very same spa. It was a repeat of today and it was wonderful." Darla asked, "Have you set the day yet?" "What day?" I asked. "Silly," said Darla. "Their wedding day—isn't it obvious they are going to get married." I looked at Roy in confusion. He nodded yes and then said, "Until I met Traci my whole life was poker, and that's all I needed. Or at least I thought so. Then I got together with Traci and everything was more fun. I still play a lot of poker since it is my living, but I play less than before. "We are getting married in two months. You two are invited of course. We talked about it and decided we are going to rent a bigger apartment in Las Vegas, and we are going to buy a weekend cabin like this—spa, fireplace for the snowy winters, the works." Roy stretched out and it was obvious his foot was playing with Traci's pussy. Traci grinned and said, "Stop that Roy or that's the only thing you'll get tonight." Traci looked at Darla and said, "Well what do you think of Las Vegas after almost a week?" Darla smiled and said, "It's been absolutely perfect. Not just because of the jackpot, but every local I met has been friendly. This just is a very friendly town; it is different than Chicago where I grew up. Everything just seems to work here." Traci asked, "How long will it take to get your master' degree?" Darla answered, "Oh, about another year. I am only taking one night course at a time because of my teaching junior high during the day. That keeps me busy." "Where is this going," I thought. "Traci seems to be following a line of thought." Traci looked at me with a little grin and asked Darla, "What do you teach in junior high Darla?" Darla laughed and said, "Mathematics. It's fun and of course that was my major in college." Traci was grinning now and asked, "What is your master's going to be in?" "Math of course," Darla answered with a grin of her own. Roy was starting to chuckle now also. The three of them were in on some joke, and I was on the outside looking in. I thought, "Darla...math?" Tracy had a huge grin on her face as she continued, "What was the subject of the paper you wrote for the course you just finished?" Darla answered, "It was just very interesting. The title was 'Bio-genetic Third Stage Permutations of Skin Cell Rejection.' " I was confused. What were they talking about? Darla and math seemed as foreign as knitting and me. The three of them had to be pulling my leg. I asked Darla, "What are the odds of getting one of two cards in the deck when the fifth card is turned over." Darla blinked and said, "Roughly 22.5 to 1 Paul." Roy was laughing now and said, "How about a tougher question? If it is just Paul and I when the three cards come up in the middle and Paul has two fours and I have an ace and a queen, who is the favorite to win?" Darla closed her eyes for about five seconds and then opened them and said, "The easy answer, of course, is that any pair is a favorite against any two unpaired cards when there is only two of you." Roy looked intrigued and said, "Why did you say 'the easy answer?'" Darla looked at Roy and said, "The reason I took so long is that I was considering something else, but I would need a pencil and paper to figure it out. Here's my problem. If there are ten players in the game and they are all like you and Paul, then if eight of them have folded before the three cards come out, the assumption is that they generally were not holding high cards in their first two cards. That means that the deck is high card heavy and since you have an ace and a queen, the high card heavy deck might change the obvious answer. I have to think about it some more." Slots Traci looked at me and said, "Close your mouth Paul." I gasped, "But Darla, all week you did things that were mathematically incorrect?" Darla grinned and said, "I'm on holiday in a fantasy city. I just wanted to see what it would be like to be a ditsy blond all week and so far it has been great. It's fun to be just silly every now and then." She stretched out in the spa and now her foot was massaging my balls and penis. She grinned, "See, don't you like this type of silly sometimes?" Traci and Roy were laughing now at my astonishment. Traci yelled, "Will the real Darla please stand up." Darla said, "OK," and started to stand up. Traci quickly said, "I was kidding Darla." Darla grinned and said, "I know. I just wanted to see what you would say." An hour went quickly. Between the wine and Darla showing her new side, the conversation was lively. Roy finally said, "Your limo will be here in twenty minutes and I'm waterlogged. I think we should get out. Since the women got in first, they should get out first. Paul and I promise not to peek." The women got out giggling and put their robes on quickly. Roy and I peeked. Twenty minutes later we thanked Roy and Tracy and got into the limo. Darla immediately slid over next to me. She kissed me and put her hand on my thigh. In seconds her eyes closed and she leaned her head on my shoulder and slept. Our lovemaking that night was different. We were more relaxed and touched the sensitive spots that we had discovered during the week with a tenderness that wasn't there earlier. When she was ready, I penetrated her very wet vagina and eventually we came together, but this time it was a different kind of intensity—just as pleasing, but a new element seemed to be there. Lust seemed to have taken a second to love this night. We lay facing each other and talking. I said, "You have only one more day and night. Do you want to make it another tourist day?" She nodded yes. Talking before I had the words right I asked, "I know it is impossible for you to quit your school and not finish your masters just to move out here with me, but I wanted to tell you... Darla interrupted, "UNLV has a very good math department Paul." I looked at her as she gave me that impish grin. I asked, "You checked?" She nodded looking into my eyes. My decision was made as I said, "Darla, would you move out here to live with me? As soon as you know that you can put up with me, would you marry me? I will try as hard as I can to make you happy." Darla looked at me as her eyes became moist. She said, "I would like to move here to be with you. One week is not a long time, but in that week I fell in love with you. Does that make sense?" I answered, "As much sense as anything we have done this week. I love you." She kissed me and then the impish grin came back. She said, "You just said you would try very hard to make me happy. I can see you have already started the hard part, now let's work on the try part." She turned over and wiggled her bottom into me as my hard erection searched for the wet opening that she was offering; it didn't have to search long!