The air had become thick with cigarette smoke and I struggled not to cough. I wore my blonde hair in a chignon and a sleek, red dress clung to every curve of my figure. I avoided wearing too much make-up, preferring to accentuate my best features: my eyes and my lips.
I’ve always looked forward to a round in the casino. It brings me closer to my father, who had both lived and worked there until the day he died. Growing up, I lived a divided life: my mother’s home and my father’s gambling.
When my father returned home from work each night he would climb the stairs to say goodnight. No matter how tired I felt I would always plead with him to tell me all about his evening. He would lower his voice and lean close as if he did not wish my mother to hear. I used to laugh and enjoy the little secrets we shared. I was not aware of my mother’s concern at the time. She later told me that she had often wished he would not tell stories about his sordid lifestyle.
Now I would carry-on that tradition. I returned to the casino he had worked and mentally noted all the things that he had told me. His stories came alive for me, experiencing all that he had seen, felt and heard.
The casino started to fill up now and after grabbing myself a Vodka Martini I settled down at the nearest blackjack table to watch the game. I try to guess each player’s range of expertise by their mannerisms, and comparing those traits with the outcome of their hand. My father taught me that.
I soon realized I would be winning at a different sort of game tonight. I became aware of the presence of a woman dressed in black.
She had that aura about her; she oozed sexuality and presence. The one thing, though, that I found myself drawn to was her generous bosom. The woman’s breasts were enormously large in proportion to her slight frame and it was difficult to imagine how she could stay upright or even balanced. The dress she wore emphasized her cleavage and my eyes were drawn down the length of her dramatic v-shape neckline towards the rounded shape of her breasts. I found it difficult to pull my eyes away from the magnificent sight. This was new territory to me. To be attracted to another woman was a surprise, but I figured that it would be hard not to be attracted to this woman. I ran my tongue over my lips as if I could taste the saltiness of her nipples already in my mouth.
“Hit, please.” Her voice dripped with confidence, but it wasn’t about the cards she held, it was her sexuality of which she was sure. I imagined my hand removing the thin strap from her soft shoulder.
Her facial expression gave nothing away as to the value of the cards in her hand. She bet two red chips to the value of $10, but when the dealer asked again of her intentions she said, “Stand.”
The woman caught me looking at her and I turned my head away in embarrassment. It wasn’t her game skill that attracted me to her. It was her breasts.
Across the table from me, she winked and smiled before taking a seductive, pouty-lipped sip of her drink. I bowed my head and studied the clasped hands in my lap. When I raised my eyes in her direction again, she had gone. I could not suppress the wave of disappointment that came over me. And then I felt her luscious warm breasts pressing into my back.
