Chapter 2

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 poker room desk 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 89 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-foot six-inches or so, and like Darla, a blonde 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 could move up to 10-20 game 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, as 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 20-inch by 40-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 as she stared into my eyes. 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, "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 had forgotten 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 chips of $10 and $20 and the first one to bet or fold was Roy. He raised the bet to $40. 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 $20. 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 $20. 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, kings, or aces, or possibly 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 $20 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 $20 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.

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 $40. 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 $40. The pot was $350 dollars of which all but $30 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. That's a 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 $300 pot by calling a $40 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 $400.

The last hand had just ended when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Darla 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 okay since I went to the casino next door and saw a slots tournament sign. I paid $25 to play and came in second. I won $400! 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 Traci 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 blondes 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, "Just 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 $10 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's 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 $10 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's 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'm 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 get to know her better, 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's the rule. 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.