Stacy's Mom

"Mom, I suck at gambling!"

I looked at the countenance of my nineteen-year-old daughter.

We had come to Las Vegas early for my niece's destination wedding. The nuptials were three days in the future. This was our first mother-daughter trip in so long. It was the first real one since the funeral.

"That's not surprising, darling. The house always wins," I answered.

"No. I know the odds are against me. Well, I know that now!"

"What happened?" I asked. She could never hide bad news from me.

"Well, do you remember Rodney Slifer from the pool yesterday? The tall one in the speedo?"

I could easily place him. Wealthy, and unctuous, His eyes tried to dissolve my bikini with X-ray vision. He was eleven years older than Stacy. Ten years younger than me. The sort of drip who still reads lad magazines in his thirties and jots his phone number on the bill when he is served by a pretty waitress. Yiech!

"The supposed internet entrepreneur?"

"That's him!"

"I told you to stay away from him. He's too old for you."

"But he's rich!"

"He's also a titanic jerk!"

"I know."

This was getting us nowhere. I placed my hand on her shoulder and made her meet my eyes. "Spill it!"

"Oh, mom. I'm never gambling again! Not even for a stick of gum!"

"What happened?"

"Well. I ran into Rodney at the high rollers table. Blackjack."

"How much did you lose?"

"Well, at the start I won big. Then I lost it all. Rodney started spotting me."

"You took that asshole's money?"

"I planned to break even, but..."

"How much?"

"I owe Rodney thirty thousand dollars," she replied softly as if the amount would be less if it was not spoken.

"Jesus Christ, Stacy! How could you let that happen?"

"I was positive my luck would turn around."

"Jesus! We can't afford that!" I struggled to contain my anger.

"Rodney did give me an alternative."

"I'll bet the pervert did. You are NOT sleeping with him!"

"He doesn't want me. He wants you."

"Come again?"

"Yes, Rodney said, forgive me, Mother, I'm quoting. Rodney said that you are the most supreme MILF he had ever encountered and that you were without question hell between the sheets whereas I would be like a blowup doll. Anyway, if you spend the weekend with him. He will burn my IOUs."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

The tears Stacy had successfully held back to this point began to flow.

"He said if you turned him down. He would see to it that the casino got my notarized IOUs and they would be added to our bill."

"You stupid little girl! You moron! I can't manufacture thirty thousand bucks! The only way we could come up with that much cash at once is by raiding the college fund your late father left you. You know what a college education for you meant to him!"

Stacy sniffed. "Mom, you can't make me feel any worse than I already do. At least you can talk about the situation with Rodney. He's holding a table for you at brunch in the Desert Room."

"Gah!" I yelled in frustration. "You whored out your own mother?"

"You don't have to do anything, mom. Talking to him won't hurt. Maybe you can convince him to let me off the hook. You have forty-five minutes to get ready."

"I should have strangled you in your crib!"

"Mom! I'm sorry. I'm really, really, sorry."

"Your pussy isn't the one getting you out of your predicament, honey."

"I thought I could come home with some money to make things easier for us."

"Stacy, get-rich-quick schemes never work" I rolled my eyes. "We will talk in detail about this later. Your irresponsible behaviors have to come to an end."

"Mom. I... I..."

She looked at me with her huge blue eyes. Her chin was quivering like it did when she got in trouble as a toddler. She was my beautiful, blonde, innocent, and wonderful daughter once more. I took her in my arms and hugged her for a long time until her tears stopped.

Calming Stacy down left me very little preparation time for the most unwanted date of my life. A quick shower and then into a conservative pair of slacks and an oversized sweater. I'd be damned before I put myself on display for him! I found Rodney in the Desert Room, looking every inch, the cat who ate the canary. He pulled out my chair for me like the gentleman he was not.

"The lovely Mrs. Anderson, in the flesh," he cracked wise.

"Stow it, jerk! What do I have to do to get Stacy out of her pickle."

"The fact that they don't bullshit is one of the reasons I adore older women. We'll discuss that after we start to dine."

I ordered the most expensive items on the menu, even though this encounter left me with little appetite. We sat in silence for a while. I was still working up my response.

"I must say that you fill a bikini better than your daughter."

I rolled my eyes.

"Coming from you that means less than zero."

He smiled and returned with,

"No, less than zero is the chance I'll let Stacy off the hook."

"You can afford to lose thirty thousand dollars."

"No one can "afford" to lose thirty thou. I am willing however to write it off for the right incentive."

"Which is?"

"Didn't Stacy tell you?"

"I want to hear how nauseating a human being you are with my own ears."

"You are so sexy when you are angry It brings such sparkle to your eyes."

"Stop dicking around, dick!"

"Very well."

From below the table, his hand came up. He placed an ornate jeweled collar on the table. Those were not rhinestones! Those were real diamond chips and cut gems! I looked from the collar to his dark eyes and sober expression.

"The only way I burn your daughter's IOUs is if you appear at my hotel room door at six P.M. tonight, wearing your sexist dress and this collar. Until Sunday at Six P.M. sharp, you are my loyal, obedient, and ever-so-adventurous pet. You will do anything and everything I ask of you."

It was out now. I took a deep breath.

"No limits?"

"This is a trust exercise."

"No pain. No permanent alterations to my body." I demanded.

"Fine, so long as you are not morose, whiny, recalcitrant, and wooden. If you are fun, vivacious, and up for anything, those threats are off the table."

"I can't stand you! why would I want to spend any time with you?"

"Good students endure lecturers they can't stand and books written archaic prose to get a shiny diploma. Your diploma will be watching your daughter's IOUs go up in smoke."

"You are such a bastard!"

"My mom may have played around but that is not germane to this conversation."

"This is blackmail!"

"Actually, it's consensual. You, Mrs. Paula Anderson, don't have to do anything. I am entitled to be reimbursed for the money I loaned your daughter."

"You are older and theoretically wiser."

"It's not my problem that she has a gambling problem."

"Stacy would not have bet so much if you weren't funneling her money."

"Which came first? The chicken or the egg?"

"You are insufferable!"

"None of the things you have said even approach no."

I sighed, "Why me?"

"I thought Stacy would have told you. I adore older women Mrs. Anderson. As older women go, few are finer than you. When I spied you lounging by the pool, looking sexier, and infinitely more desirable than your daughter. I made it my goal to Have you all to myself. I mean you raise stiffies in corpses just by strolling past the graveyard!"

"Gross! You used my daughter to get to me!" I raged.

"Guilty! I had to act fast and surely to find an angle of attack."

"That is so disgusting."

"You should be flattered."

"In what reality?" I raised my hands in frustration. "You show a tremendous amount of immaturity mixed with ego and a general sliminess that is in no way interesting, attractive, compelling, or flattering."

"And yet, I am still going to see you naked, and you are going to dine on my wiener."

I groaned. "What choice do I have?"

"You can let your daughter face the music. That would solve her gambling problem and trust in the wrong people issues. I'd be willing to accept her in the collar instead. She's young and green, but her type responds well to the flail and the paddle. Inducements I suspect I won't have to employ against you."

I glared at him, held both middle fingers aloft, and said, "Science can't measure the size of the fuck you, I am directing your way."

The bastard giggled!

"That's still not a refusal, lovely Paula."

He signaled the waitress and said, loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear, "I look forward to your collared appearance at my door promptly at six. I'm in room 15 21. Lovely balcony."

I stood up and began to walk away in anger.

"Don't forget this!" he yelled as he held up the collar. I had to return to his table and sheepishly pick up the collar while the people in the restaurant stared at me and whispered to each other under their breath. Round one to Rodney. My weekend was going to suck harder than the vacuum of space. I forced the gaudy collar into my purse and, with as much dignity as I could muster, I made my way back the room I shared with my daughter.

"How did it go?" she dared to ask.

I held up the collar and waved it under her nose. "The pervert wants me in this collar and my fanciest dress. I'm sure the dress won't last too long in his presence."

"Oh Mom, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry enough to don this collar yourself?"

Her face froze up in horror.

"I won't ask that of you, honey. However, I DO expect tremendous changes in your behavior. I want you to mature while I am saving your bacon. Put away the teenager you are and become the woman you are destined to be. This is a teaching moment. Don't you dare waste it."

She embraced me. "Mom, I hope I can be as brave and strong as you are one day."

"Nothing is preventing you from being those things already. Use the weekend to contemplate and grow. Be aware of my absence and why I am not in this suite with you, by the pool, or seated across from you at the breakfast or dinner table. Think hard on that and find it in yourself to vow that you will never put me in a position like this again."

She embraced me and teared up.

"No tears. Big girls don't cry over little girl problems."

We hugged for a while before I said, "I have to get ready," and pulled away.

"Don't make yourself pretty for him!"

"I certainly don't want to but making him disappointed and angry is counterproductive. I better primp and preen."

"This situation sucks! I'm sorry, mom."

"Instead of whining, you could help me."

"Yes, Ma'am!" She saluted. It broke the tension, and I laughed.

Much as I wanted to, I couldn't half-ass this thing. If Rodney was not happy with me over the forty-eight hours, he might decide to not burn Stacy's I.O.U.s. If that happened, I would have prostituted myself for nothing.

Stacy was a terrific second, helping me in and out of the tub and verifying that my legs and underarms were as smooth and soft as possible. I rose from the tub and dried myself off. I had brought along an astonishingly sexy bra and pantie set in case I got lucky, but there was no way I was going to wear those for Rodney lest he think that I was actually excited to be blackmailed and nailed by him. I donned a lacy but otherwise demure set. It was academic in any case, but I vowed to hold onto my integrity for as long as possible. I tried telling myself that it might not be too bad, but I have known too many men like Rodney Slifer. His only concern this weekend would be his pleasure and his satisfaction. It was my first boyfriend all over. I was too old for this nonsense!

Instead of my little black dress, I opted for a white mini. For one thing, it showed off my tan and more importantly, wearing it, the collar might pass as a classy accessory and not a symbol of my immanent domination and submission.

I fixed my makeup and styled my hair, and Stacy closed the collar around my neck. It was only then that we discovered the keyhole. If Rodney didn't remove it at the end of the weekend, I'd have to have it cut off. Damn! I didn't think it was possible to hate that man more than I already did!

The clock ticked down to 5:40. "Being late would be a bad idea."

I looked at my daughter and said, "Stacy, you will be alone in this room for the weekend. You are a young woman, I won't tell you how to live, but I do hope you will exercise some self-restraint. My erasing you I.O.U.s with my vag will be kind of pointless if you get knocked up while I and doing so."

"I'll be careful, Mom."

"And get some sleep. I won't have you looking haggard at Ruby's wedding."

"Will do."

She kissed me ever so lightly to not mess my makeup.

"Do you want me to walk with you, Mom?"

"No, darling. Nice offer, but I'll use the walk to collect my thoughts."

"You are so brave, mom!"

I wanted to reply, "if someone hadn't been an idiot with someone else's money, this walk would be unnecessary!" but I restrained myself.

In the matching clutch purse, I placed my room key card, a few cosmetics, and two boxes of condoms that I hoped Rodney would use but expected he would want to go bareback. The thought of his swimmers inside me almost brought brunch back up. I closed the door behind me, took a deep breath, and headed to the luxury end of the casino's hotel. I could feel the glances of guys taking me in. That should have made me feel good, but right now, objectification was just annoying. I entered the elevator to the penthouse. A kid eyed me head to toe, smiled, and flashed a thumbs-up. It took everything in me to keep from kicking him in the nuts with my white stilettoes.

I was on his floor with six minutes to spare. I took three minutes to locate his door. I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and knocked.

The door opened wide. Rodney stood in a designer Armani suit. It had the same effect as buying a Bently and then putting up on cinderblocks in your front yard. He smiled, leaned in, and stole a kiss.

"You look radiant!"

I said nothing.

I made a move to enter his room. He stepped out instead.

"Let's not rush into things we have all night and tomorrow. I want to show you off and give you an excellent dinner"

He took my arm and led me out of the hotel and onto the strip. A Telsa Ubered us to the finest restaurant in Las Vegas. He had a reservation, and we were seated at a lovely table. An expensive Chablis filled my glass. He held his glass aloft and said, "A toast to open minds."

I looked at him blankly. He clinked his glass against mine anyway and smiled.

"Paula, you have me pegged as a shallow, conceited, jerk with no appreciation for what a woman really wants or needs.

"I won't contradict you."

He chuckled.

"All I ask is that you keep an open mind. If you are willing to relax, we will have a wonderful time. I see you as more than a simple roll in the hay."

"You better not, I'm costing you 30,000 dollars."

"A bargain at ten times that price!"

"Says the perverse blackmailer."

"Ha, your tune will change."

"Mr. Slifer, you are young, selfish, crass, and have no idea what makes a woman tick!"

"I may be young, but I know my way around a woman's psyche."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"How do you think I got your daughter to trust me to the tune of 30,000 bucks?"

"Stacy is young and immature."

"I think you sell her short. She trusted me because she knew me to be a man of integrity."

"Being wealthy is a far cry from having integrity."

He smiled at me, completely unfrazzled.

The first course arrived. My tastebuds had an orgasm that traveled over every inch of my body! We ate in silence for a while. Rodney was not the uncouth leering nascence I expected. Maybe he could turn the charm on and off. I lost some of my anger at Stacy.

The band tuned up on the small stage and a singer whose CDs I own began to sing on the small stage. My jaw dropped! Tickets to her shows were unobtainable or priced out of my league, yet here she was, in an intimate setting in Vegas, looking marvelous in a short sequined dress. I'm not the least bit bi but was she ever gorgeous! Had she pointed her finger at me, then and there I would have done anything she asked. Anything! Her alto voice sang selections from the great American songbook. OK, this was seriously cool. It also could not have been a spontaneous occurrence. Rodney did understand what constituted a great date. The concert and the meal ended. The singer autographed my menu and chatted with us for a few moments before her entourage arrived and swept her away. Rodney was as good as gold. We exited the restaurant and this time our Uber was a vintage 1950s convertible with huge tailfins. The top was down. Rodney and I sipped Dom Pérignon as the Uber drove out into the desert. There was this lovely comforter I wrapped myself in to ward off the Nevada nighttime desert chill. Somehow or other I found myself leaning against Rodney's chest. The landmarks of Vegas receded as we drove deep into the desert. I had a fleeting fear that I would end up in a hole like Joe Pesci in "Casino." But I quickly realized that Rodney had no intention of eliminating me. At least not until he had what he wanted. I relaxed. The ride was beyond comfortable. We drove off the road. With no moon, the magnificent stars filled the firmament. The car rolled to a stop and turned off its headlights. It was just the two of us in the backseat with the cosmos above. The Milky Way was visible in all its glory. I felt both insignificant and worshipful. Rodney told the stories of the constellations. All the lore of the illustrations spilled out of him, like a way younger and more attractive Carl Sagan. Rodney guided my finger as we traced out my Zodiac sign. I could see it. The connect the dots picture really did look like two fish connected by a line! He pointed out his zodiac sign and said our star charts aligned. I told him I didn't believe in astrology. He said, "I don't either. I believe in beauty."

He kissed me deeply and passionately. It curled my toes. For a while all we did was neck. Had I underestimated him? Was this serious passion on his part, or was it all a ploy to get into my knickers? I didn't know. I didn't want to know. The Uber returned to the road and sped back to Vegas. The Champagne was nearly gone.

We entered the casino's hotel. His arm was over my shoulder. He was respectful, even gallant. We rode the elevator to his penthouse suite. Yes, we kissed all the way up. I blame the alcohol! His suite made me aware of how the other half lives. Luxury on top of luxury. Rodney whipped up a strawberry daiquiri and handed it to me. He gave me a tour of the suite. The balcony had a marvelous view of the strip and downtown Las Vegas. It included a hot tub.

"Can I interest you in a dip, Mrs. Anderson?'

Why the hell not? I'd rather have my body hidden at least partially by bubbles and water than to simply strip off in his presence. Plus, the hot water of the jacuzzi would knock the life out of his swimmers if he did go bareback later. So, a win all around.

"I didn't bring my bathing suit," I replied.

He looked at me like I was being a moron. OK, I deserved that one.

He started up the jets and looked at me expectantly, "Can I help you undress sweet Paula?"

"I'm a big girl, Mr. Slifer. You are a dirty young man."

"I'll turn my back until you are in the water."

"Deal!"

He faced the interior of his penthouse suite while I hastily stripped off and placed my clothes on a chair. I grabbed my daiquiri and slid into the water.

"You can turn around now."

He did a slow turn and shrugged off his suit jacket. He placed it on a different chair. He undid his tie and opened the neck of his silk shirt. With a smile he bent, undid, and stepped out of his shoes and socks. He stood upright and began unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. His tight abs and deep tan came into view. Holy hell was this hot! He unbuckled his belt and opened and lowered his pants. His neat satin boxer came into view. He was tenting them. A lot! Around the pool earlier, I hadn't really checked him out. I knew he was attractive but not a prospect and I disliked his personality so why ogle him when there was plenty of studly young beefcake on display? I never realized until now just how much heat he was packing. He stepped out of the undies. My lord! I must have gasped.