Always Bet On Black Ch. 02

(Saturday night, Las Vegas strip)

I've only been to Vegas twice - once last weekend and once right now. The first time, I didn't even want to go, only going to shut up my best friend Chaz, who's more than a little reckless. He set up a bachelor party under the guise of going to Cleveland to misdirect my fiancee Marilyn, who would have been a little bit nervous about her man going as far away from home as Las Vegas.

This time? I'm leaving that cheating whore in the dust - on our wedding day, no less. I exposed her as the whore she is, and then I hitched a ride to the airport, hopped a plane to Vegas, and had another driver come get me for another amazing time. And this time, I don't know if I'm ever going home.

I look all around me from the back of a Town Car, one much like the one that brought me to the airport back home in Columbus, Ohio, which might as well be Mars as far away as it feels. It's not dark out, so I relax, looking around me at all the people on the Strip, the attractive women in short dresses, and the lit-up signs. But I can't get too comfortable. I have one thing on my mind, and that's trying to impress two - no, three - gorgeous black women.

The car pulls up to the Aria, and I hand the driver a nice tip and walk in wearing a sharp-looking suit, feeling like a Vegas millionaire - and after last weekend, I'm not too far off from becoming one.

I stroll in, looking the place over - it's beautiful, even compared to Planet Hollywood, where I spent most of last weekend - and head straight for the casino floor, making a move for the roulette tables, where I am meeting two very important women.

And there they are, I think as I spot the first table in the pit, populated by a few loud gamblers as well as two demure, beautiful women in cocktail dresses, coolly placing bets.

I walk up and a brunette waves her hand over the table, calling, "No more bets," as Monet watches a smallish stack of black chips on the layout - on black, of course - as I see her watching the wheel intently, unaware that I am there. Michelle locks onto the wheel as well, tuning out everything around her - her bets are split between black and the high numbers from what I can tell.

"Twenty black!" calls out the dealer - Rachel, according to her name tag - as she collects the losing bets and dishes out stacks of black chips to Monet and green ones to Michelle.

Finally, Monet grabs her chips and looks over - and sees me right in front of her. Smiling, she wraps her arms around me and kisses me on the cheek.

"I guess you're lucky after all," she opens. "Let's see how lucky I can make you later."

"No," interrupts Michelle, who also greets me with a kiss on the cheek. "Let's see how lucky we can make him. If Cherise told us anything, it was...well, let's just say you're equipped."

I give them an "Oh, stop" look and throw down $500 on the table to buy in, deciding to play nickels, or $5 chips. I slide a stack of them on black and place a handful on 24 for my birthday and 13 for Cherise's. Monet takes a stack of my chips, worth about $25, and puts them down on 17 - drawing a strange look from me. "June 17." Tomorrow's date. What about it? "My 28th birthday. Trust me on it." Umm, happy birthday, I guess?" I decide to put down a few nickels on 28 as well, to a smile from Monet as Rachel spins the ball.

"Glad you made it here," Monet continues, as I look her over - not as tall or curvy as Cherise and a bit lighter-skinned; also, her hair is curly and down to her mid-back. She's beautiful, to say the least. "Cherise told me all about your interview with her, too. She says you're really good with numbers." I guess we'll find out.

Rachel waves off any new bets over a couple of idiots' grubby hands, and finally the ball drops - and so does my jaw.

"Twenty-eight black!" I just made $900 - and I'm the only one on 28. I gather my chips - with a few $100 black chips to boot - and sit down next to Monet, ready to get to business.

"So what all did Cherise tell you?" I ask. "You know, besides us sleeping together and everything."

"Well, while we're here," she answers, "we can talk about the job. I know Cherise told you that you'll be the director of finance for our new casino. If you're good," she continues, "we'll make you the CFO. And even if not, I'm sure we can find a strip club for you to run or something." Then she leans into my ear and whispers, "And I'm not just talking about numbers."

I step back a bit. "Take it easy, Monet," I fire back at her. Rachel spins the ball in my absence - I still have my chips on 28 but have otherwise withdrawn my bets - and I look back at her. "I don't know what Cherise told you about me," I defensively argue, "but I don't just fuck anyone. You know what it took for me even to consider fucking Cherise?"

"Yes, we've all heard the story," counters Monet. "Your fiancee's a whore. We also know that video of you at the wedding is going on YouTube. I also know you're a free agent. So what's stopping you?"

I don't answer right away, but it's because I notice the ball is dropping - sure, I only have one bet out there, but I'm still curious. Monet has a strange look on her face, but she sees me locked on the wheel, seeming to think about her bets, and watches as the ball lands - I don't fucking believe it.

"Twenty-eight black!" My bet just won again, and I didn't even do anything. Once again, I'm the only one on 28, so I pocket $875 more from the bet as a stunned Monet watches me collect more chips.

At this point, I hear a familiar voice behind me. "Look at that!" shouts the energetic, inviting female voice. "My number hit twice!"

I turn around - there's Cherise. I smile as I see her approach, looking gorgeous as ever with a bold smile on her face, a black top partially baring her shoulders, those ass-hugging jeans that are a trademark of hers. She walks with a confident swagger, approaching quickly and flipping her hair back.

She whips off her sunglasses and slides them in her purse as I walk over to greet her, meeting her for a warm embrace, feeling like never letting her go. My arms fit so perfectly around her, and hers around mine, as she presses her body into me. As I hold her close to me, she whispers in my ear:

"You're getting lucky tonight, stud."

I kiss her on her voluptuous lips and return the whisper: "Why wait?"

We break the embrace and walk back over to the table, hand in hand, grinning as I place a few bets and Cherise buys in - for five thousand dollars. I look stunned at her as she starts playing black $100 chips on the inside, reaching table maximum on several numbers. I follow every number she plays with my winnings, betting heavily on the inside, while Monet hangs back.

Monet looks at Cherise with a cold look. "Since when is 28 your number?" she snaps. "I turn 28 tomorrow. So I guess that means-"

"Give it a rest, Monet," fires back Cherise. "I'm already 28. Besides, Dave didn't even give you the time of day. Also," she continues, "I'll be handling bringing Dave on. Your part is done here."

Rachel spins the ball as I put my arm around Cherise, getting as close to her as I can without being downright indecent - damn am I happy to see her, and from the look on her face, she's just as happy to see me.

Rachel waves off new bets and I kiss Cherise on the neck, drawing a dirty look from Monet, and soon we watch the ball bounce around, off one of the diamond-shaped brass studs in the wheel, and into what appears to be 36 red - and back out.

Then I look on intently as it takes a weird spin - and circles around above that number, between 13 and 24, two numbers Cherise and I have table max on. Thirty-six red? Nothing - and we're both out over a thousand dollars if it lands there. I hold Cherise's hand tight, anxiously waiting as the ball circles around that number, waiting to drop.

I see Rachel go up to take the ball out - but then it starts to drop, heading straight for 36 red. Shit, I think - well, at least I've had a great run, and I can't realistically expect to continue this insane winning streak no matter how amazing my companion is.

The ball misses the dreaded 36 spot, appearing to fall on the bridge between 36 and 13. It bounces off the other end of the number slots - and finally it drops.

"Thirteen black!" calls out Rachel as both Cherise and I cheer, having made $3,500 each on that spin - minus losses, that's still over two grand.

"Pay me in purple!" I call out, and Cherise asks for the same. I count my chips - from a $500 buy-in, I now have over $4,000, and Cherise has over $7,000.

Monet looks on at us, somewhat resentfully, but Cherise and I continue to place our bets, spending as much time just looking at each other as actually playing.

After about an hour of giggling and playing, Cherise and I walk away from the table up a significant amount - I calculate that I'm up over $8,000 while Cherise walks out with an extra $10,000 - and we all head to a nice restaurant for dinner and business talk. I'm anxious to get the paperwork signed to make me the main finance person at Cherise's casino, even if I don't exactly need the money imminently; I'm just looking for something meaningful to do that pays better than anything I could have gotten with that cheating bitch Marilyn's old man.

Monet seems a bit upset throughout dinner, but it simply appears to be jealously - I guess she should have gotten to me first.

Cherise slides me over some papers. "I have the written job offer here." It's exactly as it's written - director of finance. "You start Monday. We break ground on the casino the same day. I need to get you working as quickly as possible. The digs are hardly what they'll be when we open, but we'll take good care of you."

I read the offer over, distracted a bit by Cherise's massive cleavage - her top is very low-cut. The offer is very attractive - in the neighborhood of a quarter-million a year to start, full benefits, four weeks of vacation plus sick time - and my responsibilities are pretty comprehensive. Granted, this type of position typically goes to someone with at least a decade of experience, so naturally, I'm a little confused.

"So just one thing before I sign," I ask. "Why me?"

"I need someone," she replies. "My last finance guy walked off the job without notice. I need someone who can handle the workload. Someone with a lot to prove. And I need someone who isn't just going back to his life the way my last guy did." Well, that part's true - I have nothing to go back to. "I chose you because you're brilliant. I can teach you. You don't have any bad habits already. Besides," she pauses, "we work really well together. We have great chemistry."

I peruse the clauses for compensation - if I stay a year, apparently I get part-ownership in the company - and I don't find anything that looks like a deal-breaker. So I eagerly sign the offer, hand it back to Cherise, and smile as our entrees arrive.

"So after dinner, do you want to head up to my suite and talk business," she asks, "or just go up and fuck?" I'm going to love this job, I think.

(Aria, presidential suite)

The door shuts behind us, and instantly I reach under Cherise's top, flinging it off and exposing her hot pink bra. Her jeans drop just as quickly - the g-string matches the bra, as usual - and Cherise tears my clothes off with the same speed.

I slide my tongue in her hot, sexy mouth, parting her full lips as I pin her against the wall, holding her hair with one hand and unhooking her bra with the other. Down to my boxers, I hold her close to me, her bare breasts against me, kissing her and caressing her tongue with mine.

We kiss for what feels like forever, passionately stroking each other's tongues, as I feel up her body pressed against mine. I run my hands along her back, so smooth and perfect, pulling her from the wall and pushing her toward the bed. I feel totally in control of her gorgeous body at this point, loving that she's letting me do anything I want to her.

She slides down my boxers before we get to the bed, and I slide my hands down to her perfect ass, dropping her g-string. I spin her around, throwing her down on the bed face-first, her ass up and all mine.

Without missing a beat, I start fucking her, pounding her eager wet pussy with my throbbing cock. Not messing around, I grab her by the hips and fuck her hard and deep. "Oh fuck!" she shouts, trailing off with a few more "fuck" moans as I pound her balls-deep.

Cherise is amazingly tight, especially for an experienced woman. "Fuck, you're huge!" she cries out as I vigorously pound away at her tight snatch, holding her hips as she rides my cock and shakes her bouncing ass for me.

I grab her ass cheeks, squeezing them - her ass is a bit too big for me to handle with just my bare hands, and I fucking love it - eliciting a louder moan from her. I look in her eyes, seeing her facing to the side with her mouth a bit open as she softly moans and her breasts shake a bit. I can tell she's lost in the moment, totally unable to do anything but take my cock deep.

Soon her moans intensify as she lifts up her voluptuous ass, placing herself on all fours as she rhythmically slaps her big ass into my cock. I grab her hips again, working my way up her body as I fuck her deep and hard.

Finally I reach her busty DDD breasts and wrap my hands around them, pulling her up to me. I turn her head and slide my tongue in her eager, moaning mouth, kissing her passionately as I feel up her breasts and pound away at her wet pussy with all my might. Cherise simply slides her tongue along mine, screaming with passion with every thrust and every move I make on her DDDs.

"Cum for me!" she shouts as she starts screaming uncontrollably, and I feel ready to oblige her, muttering a "Fuck yes" under my breath through the kiss. Within a few seconds, I start filling her up; she melts into a kiss while we both enjoy a wonderful orgasm in perfect sync, our bodies pressed together.

Even as we cool off, we continue kissing as Cherise leans back against me, her head resting on me as she strokes her tongue against mine. Cherise is a fantastic kisser, almost as good at kissing as she is at fucking and being insanely sexy.

After a few more minutes of bliss, she breaks the kiss and looks at me with a glowing smile. "So the night's young, Dave," she quips. "What do you want to do? Anything you always wanted to do out here in Vegas?"

"Well," I reply, "do we have the suite for the night?"

"Of course, if you don't mind Monet and Michelle having guys over in the other rooms," she continues - I don't mind a bit as long as they let me and Cherise do anything we want. I'm out of ideas for what to do, though, at least among ideas that don't involve shows, food, gambling, or another round with the woman I'm absolutely crazy about.

"I have an idea," she suddenly says. "An institution here in Vegas. I've taken a few guys here. And not all of them on business." I'm intrigued. "You ever hear of the Spearmint Rhino?" I haven't - I ask her about it. "You'll find out."

"What about all the stuff I have to do before I start work?" I ask.

"We got it all figured out." She practically cuts me off, as if to tell me to stop worrying, "Now come on, Dave. Let's get crazy."

(Saturday night around midnight, Spearmint Rhino)

The limo pulls up to the Spearmint Rhino, dropping off me and Cherise - and it turns out, Monet, Michelle, and a couple of guys they brought with them. I notice that Monet is barely looking at me, and the few looks she gives are little more than 'fuck you, Dave; look who I got instead.' It's hard to care, since my date makes her look weak no matter what guy she has with her.

The six of us stroll in, Cherise on my arm, and immediately grab a booth for the six of us - and it's barely a minute before we have a beautiful, shapely woman in bright blue lingerie looking over our table. I look her over - standing probably about 5'10" if I had to guess, not too different from Cherise - and she turns her eyes to me and sits down next to me.

"First time here?" she asks - I confirm it. "What's your name?" I tell her. "Mine's Memphis." Sure it is, I think - but then again, nothing on her looks real, her bleached hair, her fake breasts, her obviously made-up stage name. There isn't a single authentic thing about this girl except maybe her lack of intelligence - it takes her a good five minutes to figure out I'm completely ignoring her.

Another few minutes pass, and another dancer, one who calls herself Eva, walks up - focusing on the guy Michelle brought. I laugh as I see the exchange - Michelle's more interested in her than her date is. Of course, in my eyes, Michelle has a much better body than Eva does - I'll call her hot if she is no matter what. Not as hot as Cherise, of course, who's still getting almost all my attention.

Both Michelle and her date head off with Eva, and soon a waitress walks up and takes our drink orders. She speaks with a bit of a Southern accent and takes a quick liking to me.

"It's not like it is wherever you come from here," she tells me - her name, it turns out, is Amber. "Around here, it's all fun. It's not cheating. Besides, if you're here with your girlfriend, it's all good." I grin a bit, turn to Cherise, and she smiles back. "Is this your girlfriend?"

"Not exactly," I answer. "She's my new business partner."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she teases. "Come get a VIP dance. Don't be scared." She pauses and sees that Cherise has her arm around me. "Unless you're really more than just business partners."

"Well, if you must know," Cherise counters, "it's more of a friends-with-benefits thing."

"So that's what you're into," fires back Amber, looking at me. "Hold on. I have the girl for you."

It takes Amber a while - a while I spend looking at Cherise, kissing her, and waiting for my drink to arrive - and finally Amber arrives again with the whiskey sour I wanted, Cherise's Bacardi and lime, and something a little more appetizing. Make that someone.

I take a quick sip of my whiskey sour and Cherise samples her Bacardi and lime - both of us seem to approve of both the drinks and Amber's selection of dancers. The one she brings over is tall, voluptuous, has long, curly hair with highlights, big breasts, and legs that seem to go on forever. She's dark-skinned, somewhere between the lighter Monet and the dark-chocolate Cherise, and seems a bit more out of her element than the previous two dancers who walked up.

"So you're in town on business?" the dancer, who slides next to me as Amber continues about her work, begins.

"Well...not sure yet." I'm actually kind of unsure and never been around a stripper - needless to say, Marilyn would have lost her shit. "I'm enjoying being here."

"You're Dave, right?" I confirm it. "I'm Brooklyn. I'm actually pretty new here. I'm also the only black girl who's a dancer." She blushes a bit. "I see you're into black girls. What's your girlfriend's name?"

"She's not my girlfriend." It almost pains me to say this - after having a royal bitch of a fiancee, having a girlfriend who's as mind-blowingly awesome as Cherise would be...well, mind-blowingly awesome. "We're just really good friends. And business partners. You know that big vacant lot north of Sahara Avenue on the Strip?" She's new to Las Vegas, so she doesn't. "Cherise's company is building a casino on it. I handle the money."

She's intrigued by my story, but it doesn't stop her from inching closer to me - making a move into my lap after a few minutes. I give Cherise a "look at this" glance - she smiles. "You're taking her to VIP, right?" she asks.

"Ummm...hadn't thought about it," I ramble.

Monet butts in. "And if you don't, I am." I turn my head in a bit of shock. "What? She's hot. And you know your girl won't touch her." I'm completely baffled at this point.