La Aces

Hi, everybody! … I'm going to assume you all said "Hi, Doctor Nick!" and move on. There's no real need for a lot of preamble here: This is a sex story. If you're under the age of 18, or you live in a part of the world where you're not allowed to read sex stories, then you really shouldn't read this. Cause it's a sex story, remember?

With that out of the way, let's get down to business. Feedback is nice; I really do enjoy getting it. Send me some at the address in my profile and I promise that I will get back to you.

* * *

Chapter 1: McPheever

Saturdays in Las Vegas are Hell. It's always a tourist town, but on Saturday it seems like every moron within 300 miles of the place comes down to lose money, get drunk and generally annoy the folks like me who have to live here. Of course, LA's within 300 miles, so it also means we get a fair share of celebrities coming down and having everything handed to them. It's like the casinos think they'll get more business if Andy Dick shows up every now and then.

Now, not every Hollywood bitch that shows up here is a worthless twat like Andy Dick; some of them are attractive enough to briefly distract you from the horrible character flaws. Luckily, I happened to be sitting at a table across from one of those lovely "ladies" on one usually hot October Saturday; "Miss McPhee," I heard everyone calling her. I had already taken at least a couple thousand from her, though it probably would have been more if I had been able to take my eyes off of her and look at my cards for the past hour. She was annoying, she was bossy, she made sure to smile and strike a supposedly-sexy pose for every single camera that she saw, but God DAMN was she hot.

I was so distracted by her, I didn't even notice when she started beating me. My eyes were somewhere around her cleavage when she went all-in with what I was sure was nothing. I called. I looked down to my chip stack to push whatever meager amount she had left in, when I noticed something that shocked me.

"Where did all my chips go?" I turned around, expecting to see someone running from the table with their arms full of stolen chips. She laughed, the sort of infectious giggle that would be really annoying if one was exposed to it more than once every month or so. I turned back, and for once my eyes settled somewhere other than her body. My chips, the ones I had spent the past two hours winning from her, were back on the other side of the table, and I was the one who was all in! I had her on a bluff; she wanted me to fold, I called to get her out of my hair, thinking that my nothing would be better than hers. Of course, she actually had a hand, and I was broke. In an instant, it seemed, I had gone from wondering which new plasma to get to wondering if I was going to be able to pay the rent next month. She stood up, posed for a camera, smiled at me, and left. Her assistants gathered up my plasma, my rent and my pride, and followed after her.

I felt like I was moving through a daze for the next couple of hours. I got some cash out of an ATM, grabbed a cab back to my apartment, and just sat there, flicking channels aimlessly. After a drink, and then another, I decided that sitting around and feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to help anything. It would be much more productive for me to hit a bar, find some skank who thinks "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" gave her a license to fuck the first guy she saw, and take out my frustrations on her pussy rather than my liver.

Of course, it was still Saturday in Las Vegas, and that meant my regular stomping grounds were swamped. I had to wait 20 minutes just to get in, and even when I did I found it almost impossible to move through the place. I eventually managed to wiggle my way over to the bar, and had just ordered a Heineken when I saw her. She was in a corner, barely wearing a tight green dress that showed off nearly every bit of skin she had. After I got my drink, I called the bartender back over.

"Hey Tony," I shouted over the crowd and the loud music, "Who's that?" I gestured towards her with my bottle.

"Over in the corner?" I nodded. "You should know, man; she's famous."

"I guessed." She smiled, and stuck her ass out for one of the cameras that seemed to follow her everywhere. I could hear her stupid giggle all the way across the room. She looked in my direction, and for a second I thought our eyes met, but then she looked away.

"Come on, man, don't tell me you don't know Katharine McPhee!" The look on my face must have told him I didn't. "She was on AI, man! Runner up!" I opened my mouth, but quickly shut it. If Tony didn't know by now that I was the only guy in the world who had never seen a second of that crap, he never would. "Want me to introduce you?"

"No." I was already headed over there. "We've met."

"So I've got to ask," I started, with a combination of awe and anger, "How does a brainless Hollywood cunt like you wind up clearing me out?" Okay, it was mostly anger. Still, Katharine wasn't surprised; she smiled (God, she has a pretty smile) before answering.

"Well, you shit-eating douchebag," she said in a voice that, while friendlier than the one I had used, wasn't exactly friendly, "You have a tell."

"A tell."

"Yes. You give away your hand."

I rolled my eyes. "I know what a tell is, and I don't have one."

"Maybe not normally, but with me you sure did."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep. You see, when you had a good hand, you got lost in my eyes."

I stammered. "I wouldn't say I got lost…" Truth was, I did. Go ahead, look her up, see if you don't. Now imagine them in person.

"Oh yes, you did. You're doing it now." I made a point of looking away. "But, when you didn't have a good hand…" she stuck out her impressive chest, and everything around me went sort of quiet as my eyes made their way down, past her neck, finally coming to a stop staring at the gorgeous mounds of her soft, beautiful— "—tits."

I had to shake my head and blink a few times before responding. "…what?"

Again, she smiled when she should have hit me. "You looked at my tits when you had a bad hand."

I sighed, and started wondering why I had bothered confronting her. "Well, the least you could after practically robbing me blind is buy me a drink."

She licked her lips, looking me over as she did. "Sure. Not here, though." She took my hand and started to lead me through the crowd. I couldn't see where we were going, partly due to the crowd and partly due to the uncountable number of flashes that were going off all around me. After about a minute of this, we made it through a small door and into an alley next to the bar. Once I was able to rub all the little green circles out of my eyes, I was able to surmise that Katharine had pulled me out the side door, the star showing a rare urge to avoid the paparazzi.

Before I could open my mouth and get out any of the questions I wanted to ask, she was pulling me again, this time toward a white limo that had just pulled up at the end of the alley, maybe thirty feet away from us. She got in the back, and was trying to pull me in with her when I managed to break free. I heard shouting behind us, and turned my head to see what was causing it. Mistake. The press had followed, and I was greeted by the sight of about half a dozen photographers running toward me, and again with the damn flashbulbs. Katharine grabbed me with both hands and pulled me into the car, the driver gunning it before the door had even been shut.

Katharine climbed over me and pulled the door shut while I took stock of my new surroundings. The back of the limo was less like the backseat of a car, and more like a fancy living room that just happened to be moving. Black leather seats wrapped around the entire interior, except for a bar area and the door I had just been yanked through. The floor was soft, carpeted, red with an intricate black pattern in the shape of a rose. I temporarily lost myself, and tried to get to my feet. After bumping my head on the ceiling, I sheepishly crawled into a seat. Katharine had poured two glasses of champagne, and she gave me one, raising her own.

"To Simon Cowell," she said enthusiastically, downing her glass in one sip.

"Simon Cowell," I repeated, also emptying my glass. "Why Simon Cowell?" I asked as she started pouring refills.

"If I didn't give him such good head, I wouldn't be here." She giggled again, taking a big sip. I began to wonder whether she was drunk or stupid; either way, that laugh was really getting on my nerves. Katharine moved closer to me, crossing her legs in a way that seemed to be begging for me to look at them. I hadn't thought it possible, but her legs were even more attractive than her eyes or her breasts, long and lean without looking skinny. When my gaze finally made its way upward, I saw that Katharine had seen me ogling her, and approved. She put her hand on my thigh, and without really thinking about it I put mine on hers. "You know," she started, eyes piercing me, "The press is going to think we're sleeping together." I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just swallowed and nodded. She smiled wickedly, and moved closer, her dress brushing up against my shirt. She leaned in, her cleavage practically pouring itself into my lap as she whispered into my ear. "I'd hate to give them the wrong impression."

She kissed my neck hotly, while at the same time her hand moved from my thigh to my crotch, starting to rub me through my jeans. I could only close my eyes and moan as Katharine had her way with me, my hand tightening its grip on her thigh as she tightened her grip on my cock. In an instant, I was rock hard, and in another I thought I was going to cum just from her mouth on my neck and her hand on my cock. Just as quickly, though, she stopped. I looked at her, totally shocked, and she gave me that same devilish grin.

"What was that about?"

"Well, I had to stop, silly…we're here." And we were, wherever "here" was; the limo had stopped, and the driver had already opened the door for Katharine to get out. She did, and with supreme effort I was able to follow her and stand up outside the car. It was a pleasant surprise that there were no photographers in my face, and an even more pleasant surprise that we were standing in front of Caesar's Palace. I'd never actually been to Caesar's; odd, I know, for someone who lives here, but it had just never come up.

I wish I could give a detailed description of what the place looked like on the inside, but we were flying through there at what felt like light speed. Someone must have known we were coming, because it was a straight shot from the car to the elevator, and then she was all over me again. Her lips went back to my neck, her hand went back to my cock, and my eyes went to the back of my head. Once again, I found myself wishing for just one more minute, as I was about ready to burst when the doors slid open and Katharine's ministrations stopped.

She took my hand, and we practically sprinted through the hallway toward her room. Once the door shut behind her, she jumped at me. I caught her, thankfully, and she wrapped her legs around me. She kissed me hard on the lips, our tongues wrestling for control. I pinned her against the door, pulling her dress over her head as she ripped off my shirt. Supporting her ass with my left hand, I was able to unbutton my jeans and pull them and my underwear down to my ankles, my throbbing cock pushing against her moist pussy. "Nooo," she groaned, and my eyes nearly popped out of my skull. "Not here," she moaned, already breathing heavily. "The bed." I sighed, and turned around, thankfully seeing that the bed wasn't too far away. I managed to shuffle my way over to it, and gently put her down. She kicked off her heels as I got my shoes and pants all the way off, and then I joined her in the bed.

I kissed her this time, and she moaned into my mouth as I took control. I broke the kiss, working my way down to her neck. I mimicked her earlier actions, passionately kissing her neck as my fingers danced around her pussy. I gently slid two of them in, brushing up against her clit before moving them away. She gasped, and looked up at me. I smirked, and she glared at me. With a sudden burst of strength I didn't think she possessed, she got out from under me, grabbed me, and spun me around so that she was on top. She straddled my stomach, kissing her way down my chest, toward my cock. I took the opportunity to grab her ass, palming her cheeks, my thumbs making little circles on them.

She stopped moving down just as she was over my cock, and feeling her hot breath on it nearly made me lose control. I tightened my grip on her ass, breathing heavily as I silently begged her to keep going. It didn't take long, though, for me to discover that that was not what she had in mind. Her kisses moved back up my chest, and my moan of disappointment was muffled as she kissed me again on the lips. She had my wrists pinned to the bed, and the force of her kiss left no doubt that she would be the one in control. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she lowered her pussy down onto my cock, teasing me by pulling up just as I was about to slip into her. She broke the kiss, and pulled her head up, looking into my eyes as she lowered her pussy once more. She must have seen the desperation in my eyes; I could hear it in my own voice.

"Please…" She smiled again, that same wicked grin, and let me have my pleasure. Her cunt was amazing; hot and wet and seemingly molded just for my cock. It fit like a glove, and the moan I let out as I slid into her was the most satisfied sound I had ever made in my life. My eyes closed, or maybe I just went blind from the sensation, as her cunt worked its magic on my cock. I couldn't move, I didn't want to; every fiber of my being was focused on the feeling of my cock in Katharine's pussy. She kissed my chest again, tongue flicking over my nipples, and the pleasure increased. She brought herself up, slowly, only to come back down again. Over and over she repeated this, never the same tempo twice. She'd go up slowly and then fly back down, she'd go up in an instant and take an eternity coming back down. Once, it felt like she went up and down on me six times in the span of a second. I shuddered at this, and I knew I couldn't last much longer. For the first time since her pussy lips touched my cock, I opened my eyes, and I saw her looking right at me. I swallowed, carefully choosing my words. "I'm not going to last long if you keep doing that."

If she heard me, or understood, or cared, I'll never know. She did it again, her pussy moving up and down on my cock a half dozen times before I could register that she'd even moved. I could feel the pressure building in my balls; I knew there was no way I'd be able to stop myself from shooting if she did that again. She smiled at me, and looked me in the eye as her pussy worked, almost daring me not to cum. I couldn't help it, though, and hot cum erupted from my cock, shooting into her as her pussy milked me for every drop it could get. I felt her juices running down my cock, and then sometime later I felt her get off the bed and kiss me on the cheek. I tried, I really did, to get out of the bed, but in the end it was a losing battle. My eyes slowly closed, and before I could force them open I had fallen asleep.

I woke the next morning in pretty much the same position I had been in when I fell asleep. Rubbing my eyes, I forced myself up and out of bed, stumbling blindly through the hotel room. I called out for Katharine, but she was nowhere to be found. Figuring she had bolted on me, I made my way into the bathroom for a quick shower before I got out of there. When I came out and started gathering my clothes, I saw a folded cocktail napkin on the bedside table. I picked it up and sat down on the side of the bed; it smelled like Katharine's perfume. She had left me a note, along with a card that had a phone number on it.

You're cute. Had fun last night. Give me a call sometime.

Kat

* * *

All in all, it had been a shitty week. I wanted to call her right away – partly to make sure I hadn't been dreaming, partly to see if there was any chance that it would happen again. I quickly dismissed the notion, not wanting to seem needy or desperate, and tried to get back to my regular life. Part of me wanted to call her, but another part said that it would just be stupid; she probably just said "give me a call sometime" to be nice, like the dozens of people who write "keep in touch" in your high school yearbook that you never hear from again.

Finally, late Wednesday night, I decided I had nothing to lose but pride (something that was already weakened by only being able to last one round with her), and called, wanting to leave a message on her voice mail.

"Hello?" Shit. She picked up. I stammered. "Hello?" Oh, God.

"Um, uh…wrong number." I quickly hung up, and collapsed onto my bed. "Smooth, Nick…real smooth."

With my sex life shot, it would have been nice to at least have money not be an issue. But, of course, Katharine had managed to screw me over on that front as well; with my bank account in ruins, Lady Luck chose this exact moment to give me the worst run of cards in my life. Never had so many sevens and twos found themselves in my possession, and when I wasn't getting dealt a bad hand, some idiot was getting lucky at my expense. If it wasn't for the number of times it came up on the river to give some jackass his flush, I would have forgotten what the ace of spades looked like. So, like I said earlier, it was a pretty shitty week.

I met my roommate, Sonny, on the way out of our building as I was coming in.

"Hard day at the tables?"

I sighed, and rolled my eyes. "The worst."

"You said that yesterday."

"Well, today was worse than yesterday. So today was the worst. Okay?" I immediately felt bad; Sonny was a good guy, and he didn't deserve me biting his head off.

"Hey, Nick, listen. I know I've said it before, but if you want me to pay your half of the rent this month, it's cool. I can do it."

"No, Sonny. I'm not saying it because I'm proud," I saw his comeback before he made it, and defused it. "I've been thinking: This is my worst run in a long time, maybe ever. Maybe somebody's trying to tell me something. Somebody up there wants me to get out of here, go back home and start fresh."

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "Somebody 'up there?' Since when do you believe in anybody 'up there?'"

"I'm not saying I do. But…it's possible."

Sonny smiled, and patted me on the back. "You know what? I think you're right. There is somebody up there," Sonny pointed up for effect, "And she's gonna make things all better. Look, I gotta go, man…I'll see you when I see you." Sonny was off before I could ask what he meant by "make things all better," or since when he was in with the "God is a woman" crowd. I made my way up to 7G, closed the door behind me, and was greeted by a hot, passionate kiss.

I made a conscious effort to keep my eyes open, at least until I was absolutely sure it was real. She moaned into my mouth, and I moaned right back into hers. She held my head firmly in place, but my hands moved all over her body. I ran my fingers through her soft hair, rubbed down her silk-covered back, took two big handfuls of her amazing ass. It wasn't until she stepped back and I looked into her gorgeous eyes that I knew for sure it was her. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She laughed.

"Glad to see you too, stud." I stammered. "What's the matter, honey? Kat got your tongue?" She giggled again, the same sound I had heard in my head about a million times over the past week.