Chapter 4

Ingrid Johnson sat at the bar watching JJ shoot Craps at a nearby table. She was well into her third Gumbay Smash, a deliciously dangerous tropical rum drink. She had a bird's eye view of the casino from her perch on a high stool at the bar. Unquestionably, the star attraction at the Crap table was JJ. JJ always drew a crowd around him and this time was no exception. The table was completely full and all eyes were on the ever charming, deliciously handsome, big spender, JJ Johnson.

Two other men sat at separate tables in front of Ingrid. For the last few minutes each had been sneaking peeks at Ingrid's lean, tanned legs. Her short skirt had ridden up higher and higher as she sat on the tall barstool. The men's quick peeks and longing looks were supposed to go unnoticed by Ingrid, but they did not. She knew they were trying to look up her dress and she liked it.

Just one little move and they will almost be able to see up my little skirt, she thought. She moved her legs slightly apart and waited for the reaction. It came quickly. Both men's eyes widened.

Encouraged by their expressions, Ingrid purposely swung her legs around as if she was about to rise from her stool. In doing so, she spread her legs completely apart for a brief moment.

That's right, boys, no panties today, she mused.

One man's jaw fell open; the other tipped over his drink. Ice cubes and liquid spread over his table. Ingrid laughed at her own little game.

Just then a huge cheer came from JJ's table. Ingrid arose from her stool, flashing the two men in the process one last time, and strolled over to see what all the excitement was about. She snickered as she neared the one man who feverishly sought to sponge up his spilled drink. She gave him a big Nordic smile when she passed by. She could feel his eyes on her ass as she walked away.

Ingrid pushed her way through the crowd, intentionally brushing her breasts against a muscular man in a floral shirt. When she arrived at JJ's side, he leaned down and kissed her full, puffy lips. She put her hand on his waist and allowed it to fall down along his firm ass. JJ winked in recognition of her caress.

Just then, the stickman who was operating the Crap game announced, "The shooter is a big winner and still rolling. Place your bets, please."

As he spoke, a red light over the boxman's head began to flash and a loud siren sounded.

"Ah hah!" said the stickman. "Ladies and gentlemen, here at the Casino du Roturier, that flashing light means that it is game time. The house will pay the crap shooter 100 times his or her current bet-sir, for you, that would come to... ah... $6,000, I believe-if you make your point before rolling a seven. If you should lose, however, the house requires a special payment from you in addition to your money."

"What's that, dude?" asked JJ.

"All you clothes, sir."

"Hey man, you're not fucking serious!" questioned JJ.