The Last Gamble

This is my first story in this genre. Thanks to my editors midnight_sky and maebellene for helping me. Do comment and vote on the story. Based on the feedback, I will continue with the series.

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All things become clear in death. I know that it's true. Here I am, poisoned and slowly dying from within, yet my insight has never been so profound. I can see all my decisions and doubts, my moments of triumph and adversity and the grand scheme of things like a map in my head. The world might slowly become darker, but my thoughts are illuminated like never before. There are things I could have done differently to postpone my death, but looking back I don't really have too many regrets. My one regret is that I met Portia Langham. If that hadn't happened, all the subsequent events could have been avoided and several people would still be alive, myself included. I can already feel my body going cold so I'll finish this while I still can type.

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It was about a year ago that I, Lawrence Everett, graduated summa cum laude from Harvard with a degree in Economics. I immediately applied to the best share trading firms in New York to see if any of them had an opening for a financial analyst. My glowing credentials ensured that I had offers lined up from all of them. I chose Bruce & Hartley, which was right in the center of Wall Street. I became an assistant analyst in the futures market specializing in hedge funds. The future looked set as I would slowly work my way to the top of the firm and eventually have my own seat in the NYSE as a broker. There were enough worldwide contacts of my father's to ensure a smooth progression. Life was set.

My first day of work passed uneventfully as I navigated the constant bustle on the trading floor to deliver my figures to my boss. He was impressed to the extent of informing Robert Bruce, the company's namesake, himself. They decided that after a few more weeks, I would transfer to their section dealing with futures trading in the Far East, namely Beijing, Hong Kong, Mumbai and Tokyo. I readily agreed as these contacts would be invaluable later.

After an arduous week, a few friends and I decided to celebrate by hitting the bar for an all-night booze fest. By twelve most of them were out. I was still somewhat to my senses and went to check on my friends; they would not be getting up anytime soon. One of them tried hugging me but fell on the floor in his drunken stupor. I hastily helped him back to his stool as the barmaid gave us disapproving looks. Most of the customers left were overpaid Wall Street "yuppies" like me. After getting through a 70 hour workweek, they all went overboard on Saturday night. From my vantage point, I saw a girl making eyes at me from across the bar. "I'm way too drunk," I thought to myself as I contemplated going over. Fortunately, I didn't have to as she sensed my reluctance and came over to sit beside me. "This is why I love New York, girls are as forward as guys." I slurred as she sat down. I was slightly more sober now as I studied her up close.

She was about 5'8", and built like a dream. Her body was perfectly shaped and accentuated the right amounts in all the right places. Her complexion was fair and unblemished in every way. Even her thin dainty hands betrayed her delicacy. Then, I looked up at her face. My mind had already created an image of a Greek goddess even before I saw her face, but after seeing it, I realized that my mental image would only come a poor second to her in a beauty pageant. Her face was embellished with the most beautiful features possible.

Her brown hair hung around her neck in tresses. Her eyebrows arched beautifully over delicate eyes and she had a nose any Egyptian queen would have been proud of. The lips were luscious and full, but the most striking feature of her face was her eyes. People say that eyes are a window to a person's soul and the longer I looked at them, the more I felt I was staring into her soul. Those celestial blue eyes sparkled and shimmered with the vitality of life yet kept her demure and restrained to all else. They had a certain alluring, almost haunting, quality to them. As I looked deeper, the blue irises seemed larger than ever.

I broke my gaze as she parted those sumptuous lips to ask, "May I buy you a drink?".

"No thanks, I think I have had enough for tonight and then some. Lawrence Everett, financial wizard" I said, not completely sober yet.

She held out that incredibly dainty hand and introduced herself, "Portia Langham, entrepreneur extraordinaire".

Where had I heard that name before? I scanned my memory as I shook her hand. She seemed dainty but had a firm grip on my hand. She was a complex personality with multiple layers. Soft, vulnerable and dainty on the exterior but that handshake betrayed a certain steadfast confidence. Now I remember. She was the founder and CEO of her own software consultancy, InfoPool. This company had last year patented a new data processing technology which helped statistical and pervasive analysis of large amounts of data very fast. We at B&H outsourced our number crunching to her firm. Additionally, she got fat government contracts for interpreting and analyzing satellite data and electronic intercepts.

I remembered reading more about her in a Harvard Business Review article on startups. She graduated summa cum laude from MIT in Computer Science with a specialization in data processing. She had an IQ of 195 and was an amateur athlete as well. Recently, she had taken a back seat in her company and now only handled the administrative work.

I was mostly sober now as I began talking with her. Usually, it's a breeze picking up someone in a bar for some meaningless casual sex, but I sensed there was more to her. I could see the wheels turning behind those beautiful eyes as she surveyed everyone and everything around her. She seemed somewhat agitated, as if by an invisible force. She said that she liked thunderstorms; they gave her a measure of solitude. A really violent tempest felt like an external manifestation of her constant inner fire, which fueled her incredible ambition. Some might say that she has no business being in a man's domain but she did not play by the rules. She made her own rules wherever she went. Rumours were rife that she had recently resisted a takeover bid from IBM worth $1.75 billion. Yet here she was, chatting with me in a bar.

After another hour or so of talking she suggested we go back to my place. I got up and led her to my car, a Lamborghini Reventon. This got her impressed. I smiled smugly at using such an old fashioned ploy before getting into the driver's seat. We were back in my three-storey apartment on the Upper East Side in half an hour. We struggled through the door and then quickly undressed in the foyer. Within minutes, our hands were exploring the tantalizing regions of each-other's bodies. She took charge of proceedings thereafter (a rarity for me), and after having completely shed our clothing she led me to my king-size bed. What happened next was unforgettable.

She knelt down by my side and tenderly held my penis in her hand before gently stroking it from balls to tip. She repeated this until I was at full size. Then she gently bent down and swirled her tongue around it, making soft, gentle strokes with her hand. After that, she engulfed the whole length in her mouth at once. I had finally reached sexual nirvana. There was nothing quite so soothing in my life experiences so far. She continued her dual ministrations on my organ until finally she removed her mouth and turned to look at me.

I stared at her, open-mouthed in awe, almost reverence, at her sexual prowess. She got off the bed and went over to the Bose home theater. Fancy gadget. She turned it on and all the disco lights with it. Soon, the room was covered by intermittent patches of coloured light. They kept moving at varying rates around the room. This created a surreal, psychedelic effect. She then selected all the Yanni and Vangelis pieces I had on my system and created a playlist with them all. The first track was "Chariots of Fire". The overall effect put me in a sexual trance as I watched her come over and climb on top of me.

Now, as she lay on my front, her alluring eyes were just inches from my face. Her soft breath from her delicate, aquiline features was flush against my skin. Then, she guided my engorged penis to her soft, inviting folds. The sheer tightness gave me an initial shock but I soon began to enjoy the pressure on my penis head. She kept moving forwards and backwards but did not once break eye contact. The music changed to "Conquest of Paradise" and she kept up her rhythm. It was slow and measured, like waves breaking on a sea shore. The darting balls of light illuminated her face from time to time and she seemed divine. Now, I noticed an additional feature, her charming smile. This smile combined with her eyes could melt anyone. After some more time, I felt an urgent pressure building up as I needed immediate release. She sensed it too for she began to thrust with greater speed and soon I had the most intense orgasm of my life. She also had hers and then she rolled off, lying down beside me.

Then she looked straight into my eyes and said," Up for another time?" I fervently nodded.

She changed the playlist again. Now it was Enya and Vangelis. She turned off the psychedelic lights and turned on my TV. It was a 100" screen which encompassed my whole wall. She then took out her smart phone and transferred a video to it by Bluetooth. She said that it always calmed her. She then played it. The video was of a breaker in the sea where waves continuously crashed against the rocky edges in a repeating loop. There were a few dolphins in the sea as well. The overall effect of the light mist after each wave hit and "Only Time" playing in the background would be the backdrop of this encounter.

This time, there was no urgency, no rush. The thrusts were in perfect sync with the waves and the sex was transcendental. I forgot all about my job, my deadlines, even my life as I lost myself in the moment and the sheer aura of this woman as she got up and we continued with her straddling my waist. Now she was impaled on my penis as she bobbed up and down. I gently held her sides as she continued her motion, my eyes never breaking contact with hers. She was the most special thing to me in the world at that time. Finally, I felt the pressure rising again as I came with an orgasm which can only be matched by the one I had ten minutes ago. She had hers as well and then quietly curled up beside me and I held her close while she drifted off to sleep. She looked quaint and tranquil as she slept beside me. I was numb, floating in an ocean of bliss, oblivious to the rest of the universe for the time. So, with the waves still playing in the background, I too fell asleep.

It was a special day.