Always Bet on Blac

(Las Vegas Strip, street level, Thursday, 11:00 pm)

I've just been given a choice - and mere seconds to decide. On one hand, go back to my suite and continue doing work, maybe even make a decision on these houses, and have a drink and go to sleep. It's pretty much what I planned to do after house-hunting anyway, especially after the day I've had. It started with a visit from Marilyn, my cheating ex, who actually told me she's sorry for cheating. Maybe she is, or maybe she's sorry she got caught; I don't know. And them Mom called and tried to threaten me into getting back with her - what the hell is it to her anyway? Whatever it is, she sure has a racist streak now, one I never really knew growing up. Of course, I never brought home a black girlfriend either, so maybe that's her trigger. And then that call from Cherise - what the hell's her deal anyway? She went from being a goddess to being a crazy bitch in the matter of a night. And now I'm probably going to get fired. And I don't really give a damn.

Which leads me to my other hand - and Cherise's also-hot business partner Monet. If I just turn right onto Las Vegas Boulevard and head north, Monet's place isn't that far. She's naked and there with Michelle, who's apparently her lover now - both women are openly bisexual and have dated both guys and girls, sometimes at the same time. At this point, there's a possibility of having both of them, one I never considered before because I never needed to. I could fuck Cherise whenever I felt like it, and it was wonderful. One sex goddess has always been worth more to me than two beautiful women who may not be that much fun. Hell, I turned down a free ride with a sexy stripper because Cherise was waiting for me. But those days are gone.

So it makes my decision a pretty easy one - I make the right turn, and at least traffic seems to be a little less oppressive at this end of the Strip. My cock is throbbing thinking about fucking those two girls - Michelle really has a dynamite ass, almost as good as Cherise's, and I get plenty of looks at Monet's magnificent rack because she spends so much time nude or topless - and imagining the two of them in a 69 waiting for me.

I almost can't believe I'm about to do this. I remember what Cherise said about loyalty - it's OK to go right up to that point but don't actually stab her in the back. Of course, I did that a year ago - with Cherise. And Marilyn righteously deserved it. And I'm about to do it again.

Except that time, Marilyn and I were about to get married. This time? Cherise won't even get close to me. So really, is there even a betrayal? To whom? Sounds to me like I can fuck these girls free and clear.

These thoughts race through my head as I climb out of my car and walk up to Monet's apartment building - I wonder if she actually owns this one. Monet is on the third floor, so I have two flights of stairs to walk up - sure glad I don't have to move into this place, since there's no elevator.

So I inhale deeply - exhale hard. A couple of times. My cock is absolutely throbbing. I haven't had sex since Saturday, the five-day drought my longest since the week between my bachelor party and the wedding I walked out of. It's nice having a goddess like Cherise keeping my cock busy - but when she stops, damn does it suck. It's almost painful being denied at this point.

Fortunately, that's about to end, as I cautiously knock on Monet's door.

No answer. Must have been too quiet. I try again. Still no answer - maybe this is the wrong apartment. I check my phone - this is the place. So either she's pranking me or there's some Buffalo Bill-style whack job in this one. Either way, fuck this. I'll go find some cheap slut and spend the night with her if I have to - no shortage of those in this town.

I pound the door - firmly. I listen closely.

"Come in, Dave!" Clearly Monet's voice. I do as she says.

It's a much smaller apartment - Monet must be a lot more frugal than Cherise, at least in terms of living accommodations. This place is like a broom closet compared to Cherise's lux accommodations - the kitchen is basic. She must eat out a lot - as I giggle to myself about Monet 'eating out,' considering she's almost certainly in the bedroom having hot lesbian sex with Michelle. I'd almost be surprised if it's just the two of them in there. They must be going for some kind of big reveal - the door to the bedroom is closed.

I open it - slowly. I don't know why I'm so nervous; I've seen both of these women naked countless times. Hell, Monet got Michelle into a VP position just so she could come to party night and show off her best assets - emphasis on the 'ass' part.

There's a chair in the corner of the bedroom. I loosen my shirt buttons and take a seat, and I turn to see the two girls on the bed - turns out there are just two of them.

And yes, they're both nude. Monet is flat on her back, legs spread, with Michelle going down on her. Michelle's on the edge of the bed, ass-up, working Monet over with her tongue. Monet's softly moaning as she rubs her gorgeous breasts - not as nice or as big as Cherise's, but almost perfect.

Michelle wiggles and shakes her sexy ass as I watch her work over her lover Monet. She's amazing with her tongue, which she's since had pierced - presumably as Monet's request, since every time she slides her tongue stud into Monet's pussy, I see Monet shiver in insane pleasure.

I think for a second about how that tongue stud will feel across my cock - Cherise isn't pierced anywhere but her ears, but damn, if she was. Michelle hasn't gotten me out of my seat yet, but she has my attention - I'm rock-hard already and don't need much more to be ready to fuck her.

I see her wiggling her ass as she eats out Monet, who has her eyes closed and is moaning in ecstasy. Damn she looks hot - not sure which one I want to fuck first. But I think I'll let Monet have her moment - clearly she's enjoying this and I don't want to fuck it up for her. Her rising moans give me a clear message - hold off for a minute. Let her enjoy this. And damn does she look like she is.

I've only ever seen that look on a woman's face a few other times - every one of them on Cherise. In my case, it was always my cock giving her that level of pleasure - damn I would love to be fucking her tonight. I know she's been a total bitch lately, but when it's good with her, there's no equal.

Certainly not here, even between two gorgeous women - and 'gorgeous' is an understatement. I take a look at Michelle shaking her ass - she's almost begging to be fucked, but she has one job on her mind, and that's the almost-tantric Monet. I think she just went into a second orgasm - damn she's good.

I briefly wonder how well Michelle sucks cock - she does have that amazing tongue ring, something Cherise lacks - and I hope she gets. If it's half as good as her apparent skills at eating pussy, this is going to be a fun night. Already my cock is throbbing, ready to take this woman - but still I need to wait because Monet isn't anywhere near done.

I try not to let my mind wander as I focus on Michelle's ass - but I look her over and there's only one thing I see, and it isn't Michelle. I recall what Monet said earlier about Cherise and her ex - a tall, muscular black man who's probably more hung than I am no matter what Cherise says - and imagining Cherise with him. Yes, it could be happening as we speak and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

It feels like a knife in the stomach. It only sort of affects my hard-on - the two ladies before me are still very arousing - but the idea of seeing Cherise with another man - I'm actually jealous and I have no proof. I'm sure Monet wants me to be jealous so I'll fuck her, but this is just painful. It doesn't piss me off. It doesn't throw me into a blind rage, wanting my revenge on her. It isn't even the same feeling I had when I found out Marilyn cheated - hell, the current me would have taken Cherise in a broom closet and fucked her senseless the second I found out about Marilyn.

But this isn't about revenge. It just fucking sucks. It's not a game I want to play. Yeah, maybe it's like gambling in that sense - fuck Monet and Michelle and have a great night? Or fuck them and make the biggest mistake ever?

And then another moment of clarity - that image of Cherise with her handsome ex? I'm doing the same damn thing to her right now. Except with her, it's just an image in my head. It's an illusion - odds are she's either signing documents, fuming that she had to go find a notary at that hour, or she's passed out in a hotel room. This? This is real. I'm actually here with one of Cherise's business partners and her lover.

And by now, I feel sick from it. Yes, I still feel like I was lame back in the beginning when I said that having a drink with Cherise was cheating. That bitch Marilyn deserved what she got, and I deserved a free drink from a gorgeous woman. Here? All Cherise did was yell at me over the phone. And my revenge is fucking her business partner? I'm a bigger piece of shit than Marilyn if I do that. OK, maybe not, but we're still comparing two pieces of shit. That settles it.

I get up from my chair. By now, Monet's cooled off and is locking eyes with me, expecting me to join her in bed with Michelle. I see the look of disgust on her face as I turn to the door - to leave.

"Dave, where are you going?" she demands as she looks up at me. "I'm not done. What, you think it's over?"

"I can't do it," I reply, matter-of-factly. "Sorry, girls. Have a nice night."

"What the hell is it?" she demands. "Is something wrong? Are you not attracted to us?" Oh fucking fuck, I think. This old line of bullshit? Did she not see that my cock was hard until-no she didn't; she was in mid-orgasm the whole time.

"You wouldn't understand," I fire back and prepare to leave. I hear something of a commotion behind me - a stunned Michelle, evidently, coupled with a furious Monet. If they want to come after me, they can; my mind is made up.

To no surprise, Monet bolts out of the bedroom after me - at least she has the decency to put on a bathrobe before stopping me. I would feel utterly ridiculous arguing with her if she were nude.

She stands in front of the door before I get the chance to open it - shit.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she demands - evidently the word 'leaving' doesn't satisfy her. "Look, if you're trying to make some grand gesture by not fucking us, you're way off. You're already up here. In Cherise's mind, you already did the deed. Besides, she never loved you. You're just someone she enjoys fucking. And if you get too close, she'll move on. In fact," she continues, "if I were you, I'd clean out your office. You won't last long. Cherise told me you have other businesses. right?" I confirm it. "Focus on those. Get ready for the shoe to drop. If I were you, that's what I would do." She looks me over. "And if I were you, I'd get my ass back in there and fuck those two girls in there who want your dick."

"I appreciate it, Monet," I answer, "but I'll be fine." I open the door to head out - she kisses me on the cheek and smiles.

"Your loss, I guess," she flips - I guess so. I guess tonight's not my night, but at least I feel OK about it. My cock? No so much - but I'll be OK. I can hold out if I have to. I'll just head back to my apartment and drink some whiskey while I go over my purchase agreements, like I should have done in the first place.

I head down from Monet's apartment, pleased with myself. However, as I get in my car, I look around, and there's a club on my way out - I could turn left and head there instead of going back to my suite. Probably some lonely stripper who would give me a good time, as I prepare my car to - what the fuck am I thinking? I said no to Monet and Michelle, two drop-dead gorgeous women who would have me in a heartbeat, and I'm about to go to a damn strip club? Get your head in the game, Dave. Wait it out. Get an answer. And then maybe go fuck some random woman when Cherise is no longer an option. This is not me. I'm not that piece of shit I thought I was upstairs. I can do this.

I can just head back to my suite, do some work, drink some whiskey, and spend the weekend like that. And do some soul searching. Clearly it's time for that.

(Dreamscape, Dave's office, Tuesday, 9:00 am)

I've been back to work - at least officially - for about two hours. I'm actually way ahead on purchases and keeping up with my department, since all I did over the weekend was work, drink, and think. As a matter of fact, this is the first time I've left my suite all weekend, living off room service - the perks of living in a nice hotel.

At this point, I'm not sure how well I would welcome a distraction - on one hand, I need to focus. The last thing I need is to think about my love life. On the other hand - it's happening, as I get an email from Cherise. "Come to my office please" is all she wrote - well, here it is. I guess I need to be prepared. Monet was right - the shoe's about to drop.

So I take my papers and head in. Cherise's office isn't much nicer than mine; she's the boss, but she let me design my own office. Too bad I've only been in it a month - and that's about all the enjoyment I'm about to get.

So I take a seat. She looks at me somewhat expressionless. I take out an envelope. Here goes nothing.

"I know why I'm here," I open, trying to take the wind out of her trigger-happy sails. "I'll beat you to it." I hand her my envelope and watch her open it.

What she doesn't know is that the envelope contains my letter of resignation.

"What is this?" she asks, confused.

"I think it's for the best," I reply. "Besides, we both know what's coming."

"What do you mean, what's coming?" Is she not firing me?

"You called me in here to fire me." I think.

"No I didn't!" she screams. Well, shit. "I called you in here to apologize for yelling at you the other night. I didn't think you were this upset!"

"I am this upset," I coldly retort. "And I have other investments. I have a business I need to run."

"Please don't do this, Dave," she pleads. "I actually wanted to talk to you about a promotion."

"Bullshit," I snipe. "What the hell are you promoting me to?" Nothing now.

"Umm, chief financial officer. You know, in charge of all my finances." Yeah, sure. I ran the casino so well I decided to be her whipping boy forever. Not happening.

"After the other night, there's no way I can work for you." It's cold and heartless, but it should shut her down.

"Look, Dave," she begs. "I was a bitch. When I'm wrong, I admit it. I was wrong. You were right to ask me to hire a notary instead of flying you out. You had work to do. You're not my employee, Dave. You own part of this company. That makes us partners."

"You don't really believe that," I scoff.

"Yes," she soothes, "I do." I see the desperation in her expression - clearly she's scared to lose the guy she groomed. "I'm done being a bitch. I promise it won't happen again."

"That's fine, Cherise," I counter. "The fact is, it's time for me to move on. I have a business I need to focus on. I cleared seven figures. Besides, I still own five percent of the company-"

"Yeah, and this is how you repay me." Throwing her arms up in disgust. "By getting your check and your share of the company and then hitting the bricks. I made you, Dave, and I can destroy you!"

"So much for 'it won't happen again' on the whole being a bitch front." I get up to leave her office. "You throw yourself into your work just to avoid a real human relationship. You hide behind this image of being super-cool just to keep people at arms' length. And you guzzle Red Bull like it's lifeblood. That shit's going to kill you." I reach the door and see her fuming. "I think I made the right call."

(Dreamscape, employee lobby, Tuesday, 10:00 pm)

Well, I did it - I'm officially a dead man walking here. Cherise reluctantly sent out an email telling everyone of my resignation earlier this afternoon, and since then, I haven't left my office. Fortunately, my office has a bathroom in it, and I got lunch through the door, so I've been able to hide until pretty much everyone else has gone home.

Certainly Cherise, who left three hours ago, is one I do not care to see. What she doesn't know is that I am moving into a new suite tonight - a temporary home in an Extended Stay suite until I can find a suitable house. So all my stuff, what little I have, is gone from the hotel suite.

At least with leaving this late, I can walk out in peace. Just the night security guard between my office and my car. "Goodnight, sir," he says to me - I've practically begged the man to call me Dave a thousand times. I guess he still thinks he's in the military or something.

Then I hear a familiar voice - if it's not the last person I want to see. Actually, it isn't the last person I want to see, but she's on the list.

"Where were you all day?" It's Monet. Shit. "Cherise told me everything. I guess I don't blame you, especially after everything that happened today." I missed it. "Cherise got arrested. You didn't hear?" No.

"That doesn't sound like Cherise," I stammer. "What was she doing? Insider trading?" I know she has a very successful stock portfolio - I suppose one of her stocks could be a secret.

"No," she says, as if I should know. "Drugs. She's a heroin dealer."

"Bullshit!" Cherise may be a bitch, but she's not a criminal.

"Well, that's what they got her on." This isn't right. But if it is, I guess I got out of the company at the right time. "I told you she was bad candy. But hey, your loss, right?" Her phone rings - turns out it's Chaz, and the words 'See you soon, sweetie' come off her lips. Well, good for him, I guess.

She leaves ahead of me while I head out to continue my increasingly sad existence - takeout Chinese and free cable at the Extended Stay ten minutes from the hotel. At least the people in the burgundy Ford behind me have the same idea I do about Chinese - as I get out of the car, it appears to be four rough-looking white dudes. Whatever, I think as I go about my business, pleased that takeout places are open this late out here. Nothing like that back home in Columbus.

I don't even make it to the door - an object hits me in the back of the head. Dizzy, I look around - it's a glass bottle. "We got a message for you!" shouts one of the guys in some sort of hood voice. One of them throws another bottle - this one misses.

But by this point, they have me surrounded. "Get his hands!" the apparent leader shouts, as another of them pins me against the wall. The leader takes a swing at me, connecting with my face and leaving me more dizzy than before. The next blow is to my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

The two other guys start taking shots at me, kicking me in the legs and swinging at my ribs. At this point, I try to ask what the hell's going on, but I'm too far gone to get it out. Did I go to the wrong takeout place? Is this their territory? Are they pissed because...fuck it, I don't know. I just hope I live.

Wish granted, as the leader calls out, "This boy's had enough. Let's get the hell out of here." And just like that, they let me go, leaving me a crumpled heap in a parking lot. I sure as hell came to the wrong Chinese takeout place - so far, not one employee has come out to help or stop the guys. Well, guess I won't be eating here.

After about twenty minutes, I get up - no employee or police in sight - and head to my car, which thankfully is not damaged. I climb in - and my phone rings. To my surprise, it's Mom. It's almost two in the morning in Ohio - she's usually in bed by ten.

"Are you ready to do what I tell you now?" What the hell? "Are you ready to head back to Ohio, get married, and make me a grandma and yourself a productive member of society?"