What Happens In Vegas

Stays in Vegas...

These machines really are boring. I mean, they're all the same, they just have different little pictures on the screen. Well, okay, some have different features and let you do different stuff, but basically they are all the same. Boring. I've been sitting here at pretty much the same machine for two days now. First thing this morning too. And I'm almost the only one in this whole casino section. Even the cocktail girls looked bored. I get jackpots and I get some pays, but I was still down six hundred bucks. Not that the money bothers me all that much. Heck, my husband can lose twice that in one hand of poker. He always ends up winning though.

That's what we come for actually. Poker. Jason (my husband) was here for the poker tournament. He's pretty good too, I guess. Anyway one casino or another invites him, pays his way and gives him a room. I rarely ever go actually. I did this time to escape my mother wanting to, well, mother me while Jason was away. I'd rather be bored watching these wheels (that aren't really wheels) go around and stop in whatever place they will regardless of what you do. Yeah I know. People touch them and punch at them and push buttons, but it doesn't really change a thing. People are certain that it does though. How do I know? I let some really cute guy that programs and installs them buy me a drink one night after he was finished working on the one next to me. He told me. That was a couple of years ago. One more drink and I would have happily gone to check his room with him I think. Oh no, I'm damn sure. Maybe one of the reasons that I hadn't been back since is because of the slot machine guy and the way that I felt. I'm thirty-two, married, and have a nine year old daughter. I really can't be jumping into bed for a one night stand. Or any kinda stand for that matter.

I'm a people watcher too. I check everybody out. I usually it at the end machine and look at people walk by. Unless the machine makes some exciting noise, I just push the One Dollar button and watch. Lots of bored looking people walked by. None of them paid the least attention to me. That in itself is a little disheartening. I still look pretty good I think. Jason thinks my breasts are better since I had the baby than they were before. I'm not a gym rat, but I watch what I eat, swim a little and dance a lot. I'm not so tall; about five foot six, and I have blue eyes and a dark red to gold head of mid back length hair. Okay, okay, I'm a 36C. A small C, but a C cup nevertheless. Maybe bored people in casinos don't look, but they sure do at home. Men and women both and I like that very much.

Maybe I sorta stared when I first saw him coming down the casino aisle toward me. We sure made eye contact anyway. I looked away when his eyes met mine, but I locked on to them again right away. He smiled. I smiled. He kept walking. I let a breath out and suddenly had that warm feeling between my legs. He was not beautiful. Maybe even kinda ordinary. But that smile. Shit, he had a nice smile. Big gray eyes that seemed to crinkle too. No youngster this one, I was thinking that he must have close to twenty years on me. He must have been slightly over six feet, had dark brown hair with a hint of sun gold through it and the beginnings of gray in his side burns. He looked like he thought that riding in a cart to play golf was exercise, but he wasn't fat. There was something about him though. You know, the kind that says, "you bet I'm good in bed." I was lucky, he kept on walking and I didn't have to face my sudden heat. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt with the first two buttons open. Not much hair showing, just right and a tough of gray (sigh).

"Is this machine taken?"

"Ummm ... well ... it looks to me like about five of all of these machines are being used," I said with my palm up showing him the around room and trying not to spit on myself.

"Then you won't mind if I play this one?"

"No, please go ahead." My feet were up on the machine cabinet with my knees up and I started to lower them to give him room.

"Don't move your legs. Be comfortable."

I think he just wanted to look at my tan legs. Guys like to look at my nice legs (well, they are) and I never dissuade that. That's what shorts and short skirts are for if you think about it. Maybe I should have worn the skirt this morning instead of the white shorts. I snuck a 'corner of the eye' peek at the fit of those faded denim jeans of his too. Not so much the legs either. Damn.

So, I wanted to say, "would you like to take me to your room and ravish me?" Instead, I said, "Annabelle. Anna."

"Hi, Annabelle Anna."

"Just Anna."

He smiled and said nothing.

"You knew that," I nearly whispered.

He looked me straight in the eyes, held out his hand and said, "Hi, Gene Simmons."

A very slight smile crossed his lips when he saw my look.

"Not that Gene Simmons. My tongue is not nearly that sexy."

"Freaky, not sexy. At least to me, Gene. The whole Kiss group is." And I took his hand in mine to shake it. He didn't let go right away. I thought that his tongue was probably very talented as long as the other Gene Simmons or not.

"I'm glad. But, I always get that response from women. Not quite so much anymore."

"Just from us old women huh?"

"You're certainly not old, Anna. Twenty-five or so?"

"Thirty-two."

"Jeez, beautiful at any age."

That made me blush and that's not easy to do. "Is your wife playing slots too?" I asked spotting his ring.

"My wife passed away a little over a year ago. I'm here with a couple of guys from a support group."

"So sorry about your wife. It is nice to have a support group though."

"The support group is nothing but a bunch of whiners. I made a couple of friends from it though," he said with a grin. "Okay, how do you play this darn thing anyway?"

"They're pretty tough. Put your money or a ticket in the slot and start pushing buttons."

"You can really play a penny?"

"Yeah, sure. If you want to play one line and never win. See the buttons? From twenty-five cents to two-fifty. I usually play one dollar."

Gene put his money in the slot and the conversation sort of lagged. We exchanged a few glances and smiles. Finally he said, "I'm not sure what happened to my pals. I was looking for 'em when I saw you."

"Won't they miss you? Maybe they're looking for you."

"Naw, they're looking to get lucky."

"In more than one way I suppose," I said without looking away from the machine.

"You suppose right," he answered. Almost exactly that moment, Gene got a bonus and I got one right after. The noise broke the semi silence. "What the hell is that?"

"Free spins," I said. "We each get fifteen free spins and that is sorta the point of the game." We watched the reels go around and around (or a poor simulation of around and around) and watched them stop to count (or not) any winnings.

"Jeez, all of that racket for forty bucks?"

"I won one hundred and ten," I snipped. I looked at his ring finger again and said, "I can't imagine you getting lucky with that ring on unless a hooker is okay."

"I not sure how one finds a hooker and I cannot for the life of me get this damn ring off."

"I can help with the ring. Probably not the hooker though." Fuck me and you won't need a hooker is what I was thinking. Don't get me wrong, I just think this stuff. I'm not actually some slut. I guess that sometimes I wish I was a slut to be honest.

"Okay, let's see what you can do then," he said as he held his hand out.

I fumbled in my bag and came out with a little bottle of gold fluid and unscrewed the cap. I put some on my fingers and spread it around his finger and knuckle.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Probably. If you were thinking lube for anal sex it is. How do you know what it is anyway?" I sorta looked up at him sheepishly and he didn't seem to respond. I wish he had of.

"My wife needed it when she started to get pretty sick. She was a good sport and wanted me happy to the end. She's the one that started the hooker thing. I never did though."

"I take some with me to use on my lips. The air conditioning dries them so badly."

"Those lips sure look soft and kissable alright."

Shit, I blushed again. I worked steady on that ring and was making progress. I looked up once in awhile to see if I was hurting him. It didn't seem so, his eyes darted from the loose front of my pale yellow top to the openings in the legs of my white shorts.

Now, let me tell you about girls, most girls anyway. They learn from a very early age to follow the line of a man's or boy's eyes. They know when a guy (or girl) is looking down their top, up their skirt, or in the loose legs of their shorts. I knew. Even before I played on the bars at the park, I always knew. I knew that Gene was checking my panties and hoping to see a little more tit as I bent over his to work the ring off of his hand. I wasn't in any big hurry.

"I think you're getting it! It's coming!"

"Don't scream when you do," I said. He laughed, I blushed again and the ring came off. "Trouble is that you have a nice white line now."

"I don't care about the white line. Somehow it feels better to be rid of the ring."

I wiped the oil off of his finger and we went back to pushing the boring buttons. I could have sworn that there was a bigger bulge in those jeans than there was moments ago. He was stealing looks at me in about the same place I studied him.

"Are you behind much money here?"

"A little. Something over six hundred now I guess," I said.

"That's awful!"

"Naw. I mean it's a lot of money, but Jason, my husband, will win lots."

"I have an idea where you could win that money back and then some."

I knew what he meant and was about to jump up and scream for security. "Are you suggesting that I'm a prostitute?" I said way too loud.

"Just hear me out before you get pissed, Anna."

I folded my arms, sat back down and put my feet back on the slot stand and stared at the machine. "It had better be pretty fucking good, Gene, or I'm going to the cops!" I could feel his eyes on me. Waiting. I suppose he was expecting steam to come out of my ears. Instead, I looked at him, scowled and looked back at the expectant slot machine.

To be honest, I fantasize a lot, but I'm not really a bad girl (maybe now and then). I was later than my friends in losing my virginity. Okay, that was because I was afraid to get pregnant and my boyfriend was afraid to buy condoms. I punished him by giving him blowjobs instead of fucking him. He must have been a masochist because he took the punishment quite well. I finally got some condoms at Planned Parenthood so that I might get a little pleasure too. But he was my boyfriend all through high school and I stayed true to him. He wanted to take up where we left off after I got out of college, but his plans were hampered by a wife and a baby. His wife and baby. Except for a couple of guys in college, Jason has been it. Oh yes, I almost forgot, we were separated for awhile (Jason and I) when I caught my best friend on her knees with his cock in her mouth. She saw me and didn't even stop. I had another boyfriend until Jason made up to me and I went back to him. That boyfriend is another story; he was amazing in bed and really appreciated the blowjobs.

Gene put his arm on the back of my chair and sorta rested a thumb on my shoulder. He massaged gently with that thumb and leaned very close to me. I could feel his warm breath on my neck and it made the little hairs on my neck stand straight out (actually I couldn't really see the little hairs). It made that warm feeling between my legs come back too. "I have to tell you something and then maybe you'll understand," he whispered.

"Go on," I sighed.

"You see, I've tried dating. Three very nice women actually, but it just didn't work. I guess I'm just shy or have some kind of complex."

"You couldn't keep an erection," I stated and didn't really ask.

"Yes and so I thought if there was a disconnect, like a hooker, then I might be able to have a relationship."

"And I looked like a hooker to you." Another statement.

"No, you looked like a very sweet, but lonely, young woman. More than that, Anna. A piece of art."

"Come on, Gene. I might be younger than you, but you can't just blow smoke up my ass." An old saying of Dad's when I made up some unbelievable reason for being late. I have no clue about what it means.

"Well, I'm not fibbing to you, Anna. I'll pay you one thousand dollars."

"Holy shit!"

Gene pressed his thumb into my shoulder a little harder and put his other hand on my thigh. He leaned closer and said, "Your husband treats you bad. You're lonely. And not just now, but all the time. There's no trust and you are incredibly horny."

None of that was untrue, but I got up to leave anyway. I didn't say a word and walked away. "All of that may be very well, but I'm not Jason's whore nor am I yours," I said with my back to him.

"Annabelle Anna?"

I spun on my heels and said, "What?"

"I'll be here awhile, Sweetheart."

I turned again and left. My hair was caught by a blast of wind as I stepped out of the casino door and I stopped to put in a ponytail. Once I combed it out and put a band in it, I walked across the street to the Bellagio where the tournament was being held and through the casino floor to the poker area. I looked at my watch and figured that Jason might be taking a break, but there are no time tables on these poker tournaments. I Looked over the ten or so big poker tables and couldn't see him playing. Skirting the roped off area and trying to peek over the small crowd that was watching, I saw the little hall to the room where the players relaxed. Just inside the door was Jason. At least it looked like Jason's yellow and brown polo shirt from the back. Jason had an extra pair of hands around his neck. I got closer and more to the side and guess what? Those hands were attached to a short blonde girl. Young. At least she looked young. I couldn't tell you how she was built because her tits were pressed so tight to Jason's lower chest and her pussy was grinding his cock like they were dry fucking. Jason was not even trying to hide the fact that he was molesting her ass with his hands while she pseudo-fucked my husband.

You know what? I wasn't even pissed off about it. It was like a breath of fresh air, in fact. I was suddenly free. My cell phone created a couple of souvenir pictures to go with some other shots of him and my former best friend that I found on his computer. There were a couple of pictures of unknown girls (yes, girls) and the date seemed later than when we got back together. Camera timer or a third person? You never know when you might need such things and, what the heck, I was about to become a prostitute. I spun around once more and headed back across the street.

"Welcome back," Gene said.

I didn't make any noise when I got behind him so either his senses were good or he could see my reflection in the slot machine. I put my hands on his neck and pressed outward so they were under his shirt. I kneaded his shoulders and he sighed. "One-thousand dollars is a lot of money just to fuck me."

"You don't have any clue of what a bargain that is, Annabelle Anna."

"Come on then, let's see what we can do to make that cock nice and hard and keep it that way for a few minutes." He got up to leave and I said, "get the ticket, Gene."

"I have the one you left too," he said. He took my hand and led me through the casino and to the elevators. The security guy gave me an all knowing look and I just smiled at him. "I wonder if he normally gets a tip for hookers," I said looking up and smiling at Gene. He just put his arm around my waist and hugged while he pushed the button to go up.

Once we were in his room, Gene went into the bathroom and washed his hands. As soon as he came out, I went in to pee, washed my hands and face, and took a baby wipe to my pussy. I looked in the mirror trying to decide if I should have trimmed before the trip and decided that it was too late to worry about it. Panties on or off? They were a little damp, but leave them on I decided.

I came out and Gene was standing by the little table fidgeting with something. He was obviously nervous and the odd thing was that I wasn't. He was tall, very nice looking and I had every intention of fucking him. "Sit down on the bed, Gene." He complied and didn't say anything. I kicked my sandals off and then got on my knees to take off his shoes and socks. "Okay, stand up for Anna." He stood up and I went for the buttons of his shirt. I pushed his shirt over his shoulders and he tossed it over a chair. I put my fingers on that gorgeous chest and another flash went through my tummy and down the inside of my thighs. I played with his chest hairs and then his little red-brown nipples. Gene nearly cooed when I sucked one and then the other nipple.

"May I kiss you?" he said. He must have taken that raising my head and opening my mouth as an okay because he locked his mouth on mine so quickly that I didn't get to take a breath. I let him feel my tits and my butt from outside my clothes, but I wouldn't let him take them off.