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Finally, Rita suggested that I put my arms around Darla just below her breasts; her hands on mine as she turned her head to look at me. My arms felt the bottom of her breasts slightly, but then Darla pulled my hands higher so that my arms were lifting her breasts. My erection continued to probe her, and this time I felt her lean into me. As the picture was taken she looked into my eyes and smiled.

Rita said, "You two are really hot. You are both good looking and you can almost feel your relationship in the picture. I have another proposal for you. We have four other properties in town. If you agree for a picture shoot in each of the four casinos showing you trying your luck on our other slot machine floors, the casino will throw in a limo at your call and comp you for dinner each night anywhere on the Strip. What do you say?"

Darla excitedly said, "It's a deal. But there is a problem. Except for a classy dress, I didn't bring too many clothes. I guess I would have to go shopping so that I'm not wearing the same thing in each of your casinos."

I thought, "Is this cute little blond partner of mine negotiating?"

Rita answered, "Darla, that's not a problem. If you let us take pictures of you and Paul buying your clothes at our casino stores with part of your winnings, the casino will comp you the clothes too."

Darla was beaming and asked me, "You'll do it, won't you?"

My brain said, "No, no, no"...the breasts that I had just felt, trumped my brain as I nodded my head yes.

Darla and I agreed to eat at the best restaurant in the casino that we were in for our first free dinner. Darla went with Rita to the VIP room to coordinate the room change for Darla and set up the free billing. Darla and I agreed to meet at 7:00—I would call her room after I returned wearing something more appropriate for a high-class restaurant.

I returned to the casino at seven and asked the operator to connect me with Darla's room. She answered the phone and I said, "Hi partner."

She answered, "Paul, you've got to see this room. It's fabulous—by far the nicest hotel room I have ever seen. Come up and let me show you; it is room 3369."

I knocked on the door and she opened it for me. She was smiling and looked beautiful in a simple dress that left her shoulders bare to the beginning of her breasts. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room, as she said, "Isn't this amazing?"

It was a very nice suite. The sitting area had two couches and two large chairs with a fancy coffee table. There was a modest granite wet bar in the corner with a refrigerator and icemaker. You stepped up to enter the sleeping area—a giant king-size bed with the headboard being the entire wall of cut glass mirrors. The side tables, armoire, and other furniture were of the highest quality. Another entire wall of the room was a series of windows that looked over the Strip.

I said, "What a great room; and you got it free. You are a good negotiator.

Darla laughed and said, "I didn't negotiate anything...well maybe the clothes; you know that. This is all because you made me your partner. I think we should kiss to seal the deal again." She stepped into my arms and we kissed. I felt her tongue pushing against my lips and opened my mouth; our tongues probed each other.

When we came up for air I stepped back a little and rested my hands on her hips. Darla looked at me and said, "Just so you know Paul, I am a touchy type of person, especially when I am happy, and we only have a week. I am really happy now after a fabulous day, so please don't get shy on me."

With that she took my hands in hers and raised them to her breasts. I covered her breasts and lightly caressed them. Her eyes closed as my hands explored those wonderful mounds. She opened her eyes and grinned as she said, "Too bad for you, but the reservation was for seven o'clock, and we are late."

I reluctantly released her breasts, gave her a kiss and we left the room holding hands. "The night is young," I thought.

The dinner was excellent as you expect from the premier restaurant in one of the most expensive casinos in Las Vegas. It was obvious that the staff knew we were comped, but they didn't know why. They went out of their way to keep us 'important people' happy.

Darla was on an upper. She talked about the money she had won the first day in Las Vegas. She wondered how she should invest her money; would it change her life; should she keep gambling. Finally she looked at me and said, "I owe you a lot and you have been wonderful to me. The only way to thank you is to do another selfish thing—I want to go upstairs and have you make love to me. I want you to touch and tease me everywhere, and when I can't stand it another second, I want you in me. Could you do that for me...please?"

I was more than surprised. What Darla was suggesting was my game plan. My theory was that the male is the dominant half and the female, in their normal submissive role, should be persuaded and then succumb to the dominant male's persuasions. Here the female, in this case Darla, was acting as if she were at least a co-equal partner. Before I continued my intellectual interrogative regarding this role reversal enigma, the left side of my brain joined the center of my brain and said, "Smile and look into her eyes, touch her hand lightly and say, 'What a wonderful idea; I wish I would have thought of it first.'

I signed for the bill and left a very large tip, since the comps never include tipping, and stood up with Darla. She reached for my hand and we went back to her room together. I hoped all the people we passed had their eyes only on my goddess, since my pants seemed to have developed a significant bulge in an awkward place.

The room door closed and we were in each other's arms. Her lips pressed into mine; her perfume and body scent assaulted my olfactory senses, and her breasts continued their sexual teasing. Our mouths opened and our tongues explored each other. Finally, the never ending kiss ended and Darla stepped back. Her face was flush and her eyes stared into mine. She said, "Would you let me take off your clothes first, and then I would like you to strip me?"

I nodded yes—did I have any better alternative?

Darla took my sports coat and hung it around the back of a chair. As she undid the buttons of my shirt her eyes never left mine. She pulled the shirt free of my waist and removed it from my shoulders. Gently, she guided me to sit in the chair as she knelt before me and removed my shoes and socks. She took my hands and pulled me to stand again; we kissed. Her hands went to my belt, which opened easily. The button gave way, the zipper came down and the pants fell to the floor. She had me step out of them and neatly folded them and placed them on the chair. She turned to me again and lifted my undershirt over my head; I bent to help her.

Only my shorts were left. My erection was clearly visible and my pre-cum had created a four-inch diameter circle. She knelt before me and slipped her fingers around the elastic of the waist and pulled the shorts down. My erection caused a minor blockage, but then my penis swung free and the shorts were on the ground. Darla's hands cupped my balls as she looked at my fully erect penis. She looked up at me and said, "God, it is so beautiful." She took me into my mouth and caressed my balls for seconds, and then, just as my body started to enter stage two of ultimate lust, she stood up and said, "Your turn."

Frustrated, but eager to proceed, I turned her so that I could manipulate the dress off her beautiful body. The button and zipper easily gave way and she stepped out of her dress, which I put on the couch. I proceeded to remove each article of clothing on her until she stood there in bra and panties.

The bra was a wisp of material that supported her breasts, and hid nothing. Her aureoles were larger than I expected and her nipples were already hard. We faced each other and then I stepped into her arms; we kissed as my hands unclasped her bra. When I stepped back, I pulled her bra from her and let it fall to the floor.

Her thong panties were made of a sheer material that again hid nothing. Her trimmed pubic hair in a heart shape was black. I touched her pelvis through the material and found the panties were soaked with her moisture. I knelt before her and pulled the thong from her hips, and then down her legs. I reached behind her thighs and pulled her into me, her moist pubic hair touched my face. Her outer lips were already partially open; my fingers widened the opening and my flat tongue swiped her insides from below her vagina to her clitoris.

She moaned for the first time. Her fingers beat some type of love sung on my shoulders and my tongue again teased her entire opening. Her legs opened wider for me as I penetrated her gently with my finger, and then two fingers. She gasped with pleasure and whispered, "Oh yes."

I finally stood up and led her to the bed, which had already been turned down. I laid her on her back; she spread her legs slightly apart. Her eyes were closed as I knelt next to her on the bed and lightly brushed my lips against her eyelids and then her lips. I kissed her shoulders and her neck as my hands were resting on her breasts that now got my full attention.

Darla's breasts were beautiful; slightly flattened because of her position, but the nipples were erect and hard. I ignored her nipples as I squeezed and caressed her breast with my hands—molding them as I applied pressure. I kissed the mounds of her breasts repeatedly and then, wetting my tongue, started to tease her areoles with wet circles of pressure. She moaned again and turned so that my tongue would pleasure her nipples, but I continued to avoid those sensitive beacons of lust. She groaned, "Touch my nipples...please." I ignored her pleas. She tried to put her arms around me; I held her arms on the bed.

Finally, my mouth went to each nipple and slowly sucked each one. Her hips arched up with the first contact and her moans became much louder. I let go of one of her arms and brushed my hand against her pelvis—her moist hair aroused me as my fingers explored her. Again two fingers penetrated her and explored her vagina exerting pressure against her walls.

By now her groans had become guttural pleadings for me to finish--to give her release. My mouth left her nipples and went to her clitoris, which my tongue gently teased. I knew that she had only moments before she would come. I knelt before her and lifted her hips up as I positioned my thighs so that I could go into her as far as physically possible. I put myself into her quickly and felt her wet vagina encircle me, and then felt a light squeeze as her muscles contracted. Moments later she screamed my name and arched her hips into me; her head was moving back and forth as her body lost all control in its effort to take more of me. As I emptied myself into her, her spasms that had started to slow briefly began again and then she was done, and so was I.

We lay on our sides looking and touching each other. Darla had started talking again. She wanly smiled at me and said, "I don't know if I love you, or whether you could ever love me, but I know from what you just did to me that we have mutual lust. I wanted you from the moment you came up to me at the slot machine. I want to tell you what I think and feel, and I like to touch you. When you finally came into me, it was heaven. I could feel you go all the way in and just before I started to come, you somehow made it bigger and I felt that. We only have six more days. I am yours if you want me?"

I kissed her deeply and pulled her to me. In moments she fell asleep. Twice she woke me during the night; our lovemaking was intense. As I fell asleep for the third time I wondered, "Is it only lust, or could this be love?" I slept; the question went unanswered.

The shower woke me. Minutes later Darla walked out of the bathroom. She was naked and made no attempt to hide herself from my eyes. She grinned at me and said, "Good morning sleepy. We have things to do--clothes to buy on the house, and pictures to make. First clean up and then let's get some coffee. Rita said to meet her at the front door at 10:30—we have two casinos to go to today and two more tomorrow.

The picture taking took most of the day. Rita had really gotten into it. We were going to be the perfect Las Vegas couple that enjoys the casino shops, plays the slots and has a great time in the fantasy world of the Strip. I bit my tongue and said nothing, since I had already agreed to go along with the story.

My fear and question was how bad had my reputation suffered among the locals in the card room? I knew what they would think—I had fallen off the wagon of a pure poker player and had humiliated myself by partaking in the silly world of gambling. Tourists, and Darla was a tourist, could never understand how grievous an offense I had made against the purity of professional card playing.

After an early dinner at the casino next to us, I led Darla to the card room. She was holding my hand and wouldn't let go. Several times I tried to explain that maybe she should not come with me to the card room this first time after our progressive win, but the hurt in her eyes immediately made me stop. I lamely said, "I just don't want you to be bored."

I went up to the brush and asked if there was a seat open at the 20-40 Hold'em game. He grinned and said, "We have been holding it for you."

As I walked up to my table I spotted six locals and three tourists with the one seat empty waiting for me. As I approached the table I spotted a small, silver square thing in front of each local. I reached the table and groaned—the silver thing was a toy slot machine. Six locals all pulled the handle and the reels spun. A mechanical voice came from each machine and said, "Here comes the jackpot."

One local jumped up and asked for my autograph. Another pressed a completed loan application into my hands—he only needed $85,000. Three other locals said they had collectively signed up eight-nine people for a two-hour seminar with me teaching them how to beat the Las Vegas slots.

Of course my face was red and I was getting pissed. Darla, misunderstanding these locals, was beaming at my popularity. Finally, I looked at Roy; the one local I respected for common sense and card playing. He said in a serious voice, "Sometimes you stray from the path Paul. The best thing to do is jump back on the horse and pick up the pieces.

"It happens to all of us. I actually caught Traci putting a one-dollar bet on Spin the Wheel earlier this week. I forgave her for this venial sin, but warned her that the path to gambling is like hell—easy to get into, but very difficult to get out."

Traci was Roy's girlfriend and she was gorgeous. When I first saw those two together I was instantly jealous. She was five feet six inches or so, and like Darla, a blond with very nice breasts. Traci had a great personality; she talked to everyone. Once the locals saw that she was hooked up with Roy, she became one of the locals. She was a good, but not great low limit Hold'em player. I watched her play 6-12 a few times—Roy almost always sat behind her for a while until his game started—and her play was solid, just not creative enough for the big time. I thought she would move up to 10-20 in a few months if she kept working on her game. Traci usually was sitting behind Roy when she quit her 6-12 game.

Traci grinned at Darla and me and I sat down with my chips. Just then the dealer shift ended and Steve, one of the better dealers in the card room came up to deal his shift. He had a twenty-inch by forty-inch cardboard under his arm. Just before he sat down he looked at me and said, "My wife Sheila asked if you would do a favor for us Paul. For posterity we need your signature on this picture."

It was a blown up picture of Darla and me with my arms pushing against her breasts and with us both facing the camera. The caption in the morning paper read 'Poker Professional Branches Out.' My face went red. The tourists were confused and the locals at the table were openly laughing. Darla said, "What a great picture. Do I get to sign it too?" A new round of chuckles started...it was even worse than I expected from these professional friends of mine.

Maintaining a modicum of calmness I said to Steve, "It's hard to tip you Steve, if you don't deal the cards."

Steve grinned and answered, "Yes sir, slots professional."

Finally Steve started to deal and I began to play the cards. Darla was behind me watching the cards and trying to figure out the game. I was so anxious to start playing that I forgot to explain the rules of Hold'em to her. She didn't seem to mind.

All the ribbing had put me off my game. I was determined to close my mind to all outside distractions and to start playing up to my potential.

The hands went by and I won a couple of small pots, but nothing special. Then a hand started. The two blinds put up their antis of ten dollars and twenty dollars and the first one to bet or fold was Roy. He raised the bet to forty dollars. The other players folded to me and I looked at my two down cards. They were two kings; it was an excellent starting hand. I raised another twenty dollars. Everyone else folded. Roy called.

I knew that Roy was a creative poker player, but not a wild one; and I knew he respected my ability. The pot had $150 in it, and there was just the two of us left playing the hand. Steve dealt the three up cards and they were a two, an eight, and an ace, all of different suits. The good news was that it was a ragged flop with little chance that it would help Roy if he were drawing for a straight or flush. The bad news was the ace.

Roy came out betting twenty dollars. I went into a huddle with my brain. What could Roy have? With the first two cards he came out betting in the first position, so if he had a pair it would have to be a decent pair of maybe nines, but most likely tens or higher. He would also probably raise with ace and jack, ace and queen, or ace and king. But then I raised him. I was telling him that I knew he had a decent hand, but mine was better. He had to read me for two queens or higher pair or maybe an ace and king.

But now after the three up cards were shown, he bet! He was telling me that I know you have a very good hand, but mine is better. Roy wouldn't try to bluff me at this stage because he knew I played solid, statistical poker. I thought, "I'm in big trouble. He would not bet into me with two queens. He must have started with an ace and king. He couldn't have started with two kings or aces because he would have re-raised me earlier, but he had just called. So, Roy had to have started with an ace and a king and now he has two aces against my two kings.

I did the statistics. If he started with an ace and king, then there was only one king left in the deck. It was a forty-seven to one shot that the next card would be a king, but I had to put in twenty dollars to find out. There was $170 in the pot, so the pot was giving me less than nine to one to go for a forty-seven to one possibility. This was a no brainer—it was a clear fold; there was no doubt in my mind that I shouldn't waste my twenty dollars to see the next card.

As I opened my mouth to say, "Fold," I felt Darla's hand on my shoulder and she squeezed it. The squeeze felt nice; she was a touchy type of girl, and I was starting to appreciate her assets as I said, "Call."

"CALL!" I thought, "What have I done? My mind had gone south on a simple squeeze from a beautiful female. I meant to say 'fold.' I thought, "How the hell could I have done that?"

It was too late to change. I put in the four red chips and Steve dealt the fourth up card. It was a king—out of forty-seven possible cards, I got the only one that could improve my hand! I now had three kings against Roy's two aces.