Casino

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.

Through the sheer material of her dress, I could feel her hardened nipples and I stifled a short gasp. I glanced around the table and was horrified to find that we were being watched. Some of the men smirked and a couple of women look disgusted, maybe jealous. My mysterious vixen pressed something in my hand and then I felt her firm breasts leave me. I swallowed hard and looked down at what she had given me. It was small, black and rectangular and on one side it had a sliding switch. I tripped the switch a few times, on and off. It didn’t seem to do anything. Is this a garage opener?

A sultry voice rich with years of cigarettes and scotch whispered in my ear, “Steady on, sweetie! Take it nice and slow to start. I like a little foreplay, like any woman.”

I blushed hard, feeling the heat spread from my face down my neck and chest. I held the remote control, clearly some sort of sexual device that my sexy lady had managed to hide in her snug-fitting dress.

Scanning the casino, I again couldn’t find her immediately, and I knew she wanted it that way. My woman gambler was playing me; placing a bet on how I would play the hand she dealt me. I could feel the moisture between my legs; my head was swimming. I needed some fresh air, or a drink, or some kind of diversion.

I tried my best to casually saunter across the casino floor with as much poise as I could with my pussy throbbing. I held the control of another woman’s sexuality in the palm of my hand. I still couldn’t find her. Determined to act sophisticated I propped myself up at the bar. I ordered another Vodka Martini from the good-looking barman and casually flipped the switch of the remote. I imagined her watching me as I slowly sipped my drink. I could hear faint moans from behind me but when I turned round, there was no one there. Where was she?

I desperately scanned the room for her, the remote in one hand, and my drink in the other. I flipped the switch on and off rapidly and I spotted her. She was chatting to a tall, handsome man almost directly behind me, a few tables away. Every time the vibrator turned on, she gave a little jump, and then covered up her movements by pretending she had been touched up by someone passing by. The tall guy didn’t seem convinced. I couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Even from that distance it was obvious that his conversation was failing to hold her interest.

“So, what’s that you got in your hand?” The barman gestured towards the black remote I clutched in my right hand. I jumped.

“What this? Oh, it’s just a personal alarm.” I placed it and my drink on the bar, turning to him. I smiled, and he extended me his hand. Just act natural, I thought. I tried not to wriggle on the seat too much. Damn it ached.

“My name is Ben. Pleased to meet you.” I took his offer of a handshake and introduced myself as Katy.

Then he asked, “Are you okay? You seem preoccupied.” I turned back towards Ben and shook my head. Glancing at the box, I realized that I had switched the remote on. I imagined a trickle of cum running down the inside of her thighs. My tongue ached to lick it off, slowly climbing higher to her soft, warm lips. My clit swelled. I could almost smell the sweetness of her pussy juices. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. My pussy burned and throbbed and gushed for her touch.

”No, I’m fine. But yes, I am a bit preoccupied tonight.” I nodded and smiled at the barman and he flashed me a smile but I could see disappointment in his eyes. He was looking over my shoulder, and then I felt her warm breasts envelope my arm. She reached across my chest, brushing my nipple, and switched the black box off.

I could feel her heat and her passion radiating against my side, she stood so close to me. I hoped my fingers would very soon be gently strumming her bud. Boldly I swivelled on the barstool and slipped my arms round her narrow waist, pulling her towards me between my legs. She leaned into my breasts.

“You frustrate me, sweetie,” she murmured. “I love my games to last much longer.” I gave no answer, preferring my heartbeat and my touch against her thigh to convey my feelings for her.

“Shall we go to my room?”

I nodded, against her soft, musty smelling hair. I surprised myself with my boldness, but I felt an incredible respect for her: she had awakened this side of me. I had never felt so aroused by a man before. My inexperience did not worry me. At that moment, nothing worried me.

She led me away from the crowds to the room she held in the casino.

She pushed me gently onto the bed and slowly removed my clothes, then stood back and admired my firm breasts and flat stomach. She removed her dress, and then her bra. I sat up and reached out to grab her with both hands. I massaged her breasts enjoying their vastness and watching her nipples grow harder with my touch.

She pushed me back into the bed and kissed me softly. Her long tresses hung loosely and tickled the sensitive skin of my neck. My nose was full of her scent, spicy and hot and smoky, like cider served on a cold night.

I closed my eyes, savouring the feel of her body on mine. Her gaze burnt a path of warmth down between my breasts and over my stomach. Each breath I took lifted my nipples up eagerly towards her, waiting to be nibbled and sucked. With each touch of her fingertips, her lips, her tongue, her mouth, she spread through my being.

Moving slowly down my body, she slid her hands over my bare flesh. I came alive; the fine hair on my skin stood on end mimicking a blanket to cover my nudity, pleasure bolts travelled to every nerve ending lighting a path down to my pussy, which she followed with her tongue. For several moments she licked and probed, exploring the folds between my thighs as if she wished to straighten each one out.

She caressed and kissed and massaged my body into orgasm. She held me close then as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I melted into her. She told me her name. Then I remembered she didn’t know who I was. “I’m Katy,” I said and she smiled.