by Jenna Kelly
"Yes, David. Yes, baby. Like that—" Her hands spread either side of her, gripping the sheets. The bed bounced in protest. "Yes! Like that!"
Her hands released the sheets, reaching up to comb through her sweaty hair. Her feet dug into the mattress, her ass pushed upwards. Their bodies slapped and their gasps intensified. The muscles in Natalie's thighs screamed, growing tight. She was there—
"Ngh, fuck!" The third orgasm ripped through her. She bit her lower lip, attempting to stifle her torrid climax. She'd so needed this.
David dropped her ass back onto the bed. Leaning forward, his knees and toes dug in for extra purchase as he went for broke. The new angle put the path of his cock head right up against her clit. With each pass, the swollen ridge nudged over her love button.
Oh fuck! She couldn't be cumming again? That made four, but who was counting?
David gave an animalistic growl. His hands went to her bouncing tits, mashing them together, pulling them apart. His head went back. His face tightened. His eyes slid into the back of his head.
When he exploded, he seemed to cum forever. One burst followed another. His jerking body wouldn't stop jerking.
"Yes, baby," she gasped, her hands pulling his clenched face to her shoulder. Her words comforted him like a mother would a child. "That's it… that's it. Ssssh. That's it, baby."
***
Marissa loved sleeping in the nude. The feel of clean, cool sheets against her skin was luxurious. That sensation had always been a turn-on for her. Right now, the hand caressing her vulva was a turn-on, too.
She'd been dreaming of Nikolai. And now his hand was pleasuring her again. How had he got into her bed? That finger felt so good, slipping inside her wetness. With a scrumptiously, hazy laziness, she began to come out of her deep sleep. Turning onto her back, she sighed. Her legs parted wider. Her wetness increased. What a delicious way to be roused.
Then she smelt the drink.
"You bastard!" She spat out the words, glancing at the bedside clock. Two o'clock in the morning and her drunken boyfriend had let himself into her apartment. She was instantly wide-awake.
Her hand flung out to push his pawing fingers away. Rolling onto her side, one hand grabbed his dark, wavy hair. Her claw-like fingers dug into his scalp, not caring that she was drawing blood.
"What?" he slurred, his bloodshot eyes wincing as her other hand reached out to flick on the bedside lamp.
"What?" she mimicked, her voice full of snarling rage. "I'll tell you what, Tommy. You were supposed to be phoning me tonight. After you finished work."
"I… I worked late—"
Her twisted face conveyed her disgust. "No, you didn't Tommy. You were drinking. I can smell the drink on you. And fucking perfume! You bastard!"
"Baby—"
"I'm not your baby, Tommy," she spat out, swinging round so that her feet dug into his sides. She pushed hard—the loud thump as he landed on the floor reverberating around the bedroom.
Her eyes honed in on the pathetic sight. In his drunken stupor, he was still half dressed, his white tee shirt stained with drink, his shrivelling cock flopping out of the gap in his dark boxers.
"Not any more," the blonde continued. "You think you can just roll in here and fuck me? After spending the night drinking and pawing other women? Forget it!" She was on her feet now, giving him what would be his final glimpse of her naked body. Vegas awaited—a new life. She'd had enough of this one—that was for sure.
"Give me my fucking apartment key back," she snarled, picking up his clothes and searching through his pockets. She held it up triumphantly. "Now get your fucking ass out of my life—"
***
Four o'clock in the morning and David closed down the computer with a deep sigh of satisfaction. Despite their intense lovemaking, he'd been unable to sleep. An Internet poker session had been just what he'd needed. He reflected that this one could be life changing.
He was only too aware that his poker aspirations had become a barrier between him and Natalie. Well, one of the barriers. But he could turn that round. Achieving poker success could make the difference for them
At first, Natalie had been supportive of his poker aspirations. Just as David had supported her singing hopes. To avoid disturbing her, he'd often found himself playing poker into the middle of the night, convincing himself that sleep was an unnecessary luxury.
Unbeknown to his girlfriend, he'd gradually built up a nice little stack. It had paid for their car. It would also provide the bankroll that would allow him to follow his dream. And his performance over the last couple of hours could well be the breakthrough he needed. He could feel it in his water. His play had been superb. Even better than normal. He'd—
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Natalie's words cut into his thoughts. His head jerked around to the naked woman framed in the doorframe. His cock instantly reacted, pushing against the white robe. Even in her anger, she—
"Well, David?" It was the tone rather than the words that cooled his ardour. Like a slap across his manhood. Why was she so angry?
"Couldn't sleep—" he began, but she wasn't listening.
"You're working in three hours," she spat, her nude body stalking across towards him. "No wonder you're always so tired. I don't think Slade's going to be impressed if you're late. Do you? He's not someone you want to cross. And we need that job—"
"Natalie—" he unsuccessfully tried to cut in.
"Don't tell me! You weren't able to sleep after we fucked? I didn't satisfy you enough? Is that it?"
"Fuck, Natalie, you were fantastic," he soothingly began. "But listen, it was like fate. A satellite tournament was starting. Fist prize a shot for a 10,000-dollar seat at the World Series of Poker. The World Series of Poker in Vegas, Natalie!"
Her face contorted in rage. Her hands went to her hips. "I knew it! You were playing poker! Fucking poker!"
"Natalie," he exhorted, his eyes wide, his voice softening further in an attempt to defuse her anger. "I won the bloody thing—"
For a few seconds, she paused. Her mind began to tick over, taking in his words. "You... you won us a trip to Vegas?"
David jumped up, pulling her into a hug. "No, not yet—" he softly explained, pausing as he saw the frustration rise in her eyes once again. "But I won free entry to a six hundred dollar tournament. All for forty dollars. If I finish in the top three in that one, we're on our way, babe."
Natalie snorted, dragging herself out of his arms. "And if your Aunt was your Uncle—"
For a moment it appeared as if she was going to burst into another tirade. Then she paused. Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes changed. Almost a look of resignation. As if she didn't have the heart to pour cold water on his enthusiasm. Men could be such boys!
"Okay," she said, stepping back into his arms. She pulled his hands to her naked tits. "If you win us the trip, I'll quit moaning about poker. Right now, since you're wide awake," she murmured, stroking him to full hardness. "You can fuck me again before you go to work."
Turning towards the bedroom, he winced as she pulled his cock towards the door. "Fuck, Natalie!" he gasped.
"Exactly, David," she teased. "You've got the idea. When exactly do you play this tournament?"
"Next Saturday," he gasped. The pressure of her pulling hand was becoming too much to resist. If she—
"You bastard!" Out of nowhere, her snarl was back. Her hand left his cock and pushed him away. "Next Saturday is the party at Roger's house. You've done this on purpose!"
*****
Tonight was the night. Three seats at the World Series Main Event were on offer, together with two 'consolation' prizes. But the cash for fourth and fifth places didn't interest David. Yes, they'd help his poker bank balance, but the only prize in his mind was a seat at the World Series.
Minor obstacles were the other one hundred and twenty-one entrants - all looking for their own piece of glory.
David leant back in the cheap computer chair. Being so uncomfo
rtable kept him alert. So he convinced himself. The tournament bell was only a few minutes away, signalling the start of a journey to his destiny. Focus, he told himself. Get in the zone.
He hardly noticed when Natalie silently slipped in from the bedroom. Leaning back against the white bedroom door, her rasping cough achieved its purpose. He jumped as he swung the low-backed computer chair.
Her arms crossed pose told him she was still pissed off. She still wanted him to accompany her to Robert's party tonight, even though he'd explained his predicament several times. He'd told her—if he was to get to the World Series, it was now or never.
He gave a low whistle as his eyes ran across her black, cocktail dress. "You look fantastic," he blurted.
"Thank you," came the deadpan reply. Yes, she was definitely still pissed.
"Look, Natalie—"
The way she slowly pushed herself away from the door stopped his protest. No point in pouring oil on troubled waters. As she took a step forward, his eyes were drawn to her cleavage as her breasts spilled over the low cut top. She still made his cock harden more quickly than any other woman.
"So… you're definitely not coming with me tonight?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"I can't, Natalie," he replied, struggling to contain his frustration. "We've had this discussion several times now."
"Yes, David," she agreed, her voice heavy with disdain. "Because you're going to win us a trip to Vegas. While I attend the biggest dinner of my life. Alone—"
It was a stand off. Both knew they'd played out this scene before. David didn't reply. What was the point?
"Well?" she quizzically asked, knowing how difficult she was being. It somehow made her feel better.
"Well what?" His voice was becoming exasperated.
"Is poker more important than me? My career?"
It was an argument he couldn't win. "You know it isn't," he responded, rising swiftly and closing the small distance between them.
The stare she shot at him stopped him as if he'd walked into a bulldozer. He tried to ignore the piercing gaze that threatened to take him out. "Natalie, if I finish in the first three, we win a trip to Vegas..."
"And how do you rate your chances?" she asked. "You told me there are well over a hundred people playing. Most have paid $600 for the privilege, you said!"
She was being unreasonable. But damn, she felt like being unreasonable.
He attempted to take her in his arms but her step backwards set up an invisible barrier. Only the bell signalling the start of the tournament interrupted the uncomfortable silence. Their eyes simultaneously jerked towards the small computer screen.
"Natalie," he began.
His girlfriend ignored him. Picking up her coat from the nearby chair and draping it over her arm, she headed for the door. "David…" she husked.
He smiled at the strapless back that was walking away from him. It would have been unlike her to go without wishing him good luck. "Yes?"
"Fuck Off."
***
The limo Nikolai had sent was closing in on its destination. Marissa sat quietly, wondering what to expect. His message had simply indicated she should be at his house by eight. For celebratory drinks, it had said. And to provide her with full details of her Vegas audition.
What to wear? Understated or ostentatious? It had been on her mind since she'd received the invitation. In the end, she'd gone for a loose, designer dress that showed off her long legs.
Mind you, if it weren't for the thin, spaghetti straps, it would seem only the gravity of her perfect tits held it up. His eyes would pop out when he saw her. And light blue was so her colour.
She'd hoped it would be more than a few celebratory drinks. It had been a week since she'd thrown her boyfriend out of her flat. She hadn't as much as spoken to Tommy since. That meant it was a week since she'd had sex. Since Nikolai had fucked her.
The blonde hoped the Greek was going to fuck her again tonight. She knew he was married—but was his wife going to be at home? She had no idea. Somehow, that just added to her excitement. It would be a night of hot sex or embarrassed frustration.
If all else failed, the limo's chauffeur looked hot. Quite a stud, in fact. And his eyes had been all over her body as she'd walked to the vehicle. If Nikolai didn't fuck her, she'd make sure they stopped somewhere quiet on the homeward journey.
She needed some serious action.
***
Play was cautious. Not only were very few moves being made, the pace of play was slow. It was understandable, considering the stakes.
While most players were content to focus on the tournament, others were anxious to posture. It seemed that quite a few had already played at the legendary Binion's Horsehoe Casino in downtown Las Vegas. And a number had performed at the plusher Rio, located just off the Strip.
With the Rio Hotel having recently taken over from Binion's as the home to the World Series of Poker, that was more relevant.
David ignored the table chatter. He was unusually confident, feeling an almost eerie sense of calm. As far as he was concerned, the Practically Poker prize of a round trip airfare, plus accommodation, was there for the taking. He would need a fair share of luck, certainly, but his game was razor sharp.
He just needed to avoid any silly mistakes—
***
Nikolai was salivating in anticipation of the evening ahead. He had been since issuing the invitation.
He needed to make sure that Marissa had what it took. Not to be a model, she'd already proven that. But did she have the attitude—and was she uninhibited enough—to become a porn star? And of the quality that Kaitlyn Kristen was looking for? Tonight was another step to finding out.
But that was almost secondary to his need to take this woman again.
Not that he was short of good-looking women to fuck. In his position, they fell over themselves. Saw it as a way to advance their careers. Naturally enough, he took advantage. Who wouldn't?
Especially as his wife didn't object. On the contrary—she enjoyed watching the videos of her husband taking one innocent after another. It enhanced her arousal. Sex between them was so much better when they fucked while watching the hidden video screen opposite their bed. It lifted their fucking up a level—hot, basic and raw.
What made tonight different was that this blonde wasn't like the rest of his conquests. There was something about a woman who didn't realise how sexy she was. About a reluctant woman, who gave herself despite it being against her nature. When she realised this was the way to success.
Yes, Marissa had tried to play him. Get what she wanted with her womanly wiles, without going that extra step. Until last week, that was. But when she'd realised she had no option, she'd given herself willingly. And now, she'd had a week to think about things.
During that time, he'd learnt she'd finished with her boyfriend. Good girl. The gift of Vegas would have insinuated itself in her mind. The excitement would be building inside her. She'd also have remembered the sensations created by Nikolai' cock. They always did.
The question wasn't whether she'd let him fuck her tonight. It was how far would she go?
***
Natalie had felt uncomfortable from the moment the unkempt driver's eyes had undressed her when she'd entered the taxi. It made her shiver. His insistence on smoking throughout the journey hadn't helped her mood, either. Only when he'd dropped her outside the apartment complex did her spirits lift. The building was certainly impressive enough.
She refused to give the lecherous old guy a tip, dropping the exact fare into his grubby hand as she left the smoke ridden interior and stepped onto the adjacent kerb. The clean air smelt wonderful.
The brunette was only too well aware it wasn't only the taxi driver who'd wound her up. She was still seething over David's indifference. Okay, her attitude may have been unreasonable—but his chances of success in the tournament were Slade. Yes, he was good. But not that good!
Her female instinct intellectualise
d the situation as yet another example of poker coming first. Tonight was important to her. Tit was the chance of a contact that could launch her career. Lindsay Wellson, for God's sake! In truth, it made no difference if David accompanied her or not. Other than as a gesture of moral support. That wasn't the point, of course.
She was rapidly approaching the end of her tether over his poker fixation. It was beginning to drive a massive wedge between them.
Why couldn't he see that?
Two deep breaths later and she'd determined to put all other thoughts behind her. Concentrate on tonight, not anything else. Not anyone else. Her confident strides across the plush lobby were designed to flush any negative thoughts away. By the time she'd stepped out of the elevator on to the impressive, wooden panelled floor, she was focused.
