Gambling, Sex and Alcohol

Marshal was a regular at the 25/50 10k max ring games at the nearby casino. At any given time, he was able to recognize most of the people he was playing against, and felt confident with his superior poker and reading abilities to play and do well against them all. One evening, however, he found himself sitting next to a young female whom he had never before seen in his life.

"Hello, marshal," she said quietly.

Marshal was so surprised that she knew his name, that he reluctantly tore his gaze away from her chest and studied her face. Realization soon dawned upon him as he recognized the round, blue eyes and softly faded freckles of his neighbor.

"Tracy?" he asked in stunned disbelief. "What the devil are you doing here?"

"You were right," she said with a sly grin, "I've had a bit of success, and have been fortunate to move up quite rapidly in this card playing world of yours."

Jesus, he thought. I only gave her a thousand dollars. How was she able to get herself in a 10k max ring game in less than a week?

Marshal found himself oddly ill at ease sitting so close to Tracy. As much as he tried concentrating on the game and looking else where, his gaze always seemed to linger back to her now barely concealed breasts. It was like his mind was playing tricks on him as he started to imagine would it would feel like to pull her shirt down just a little bit, and witness her bodies full glory right then and there. His heart began beating rapidly in heated exhilaration as he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to move his hands along those soft, round curves, and to explore their fullness to his hearts content. And if that wasn't enough, thoughts about the game soon became all but impossible as he felt a warm hand softly touch his thigh from underneath the table, and slowly begin to move its way upward toward his now massively, stiffening erection.

"Why so tense?" Tracy asked him innocently.

That night, Marshal experienced the greatest loss ever in his ten years as a gambler, and had successfully worked himself into small fit of rage by the time he finally made it to his home. Just as he grabbed himself a small bottle of liquor with the intent to drink himself to that ever so precious state of oblivion, he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Tracy?" Marshal asked as he opened his door, "what are you doing here?"

Tracy took it upon herself to walk into his home, and made herself comfortable at his table.

"Paying back my debts."

She took out her purse, counted some bills, and set the money on the table.

"There. I've now paid you back twice over with more than enough for myself, just as you predicted."

Marshal had to resist the temptation to slap that smug look off her face. She knew perfectly well that that money didn't even come close to covering his earlier losses.

He studied her short skirt and low cut t-shirt that she still wore from earlier, and began to toy with the thought of taking her, right then and right there. To push her down on the table, lift up her skirt, and relentlessly force himself onto her again and again. No one was there to hear her if she screamed, and if she took the matter to an authority it would be her word against his. That would show her. Just as he started to think of the matter as settled, a small voice crept up into the back of his mind. If you go ahead with this then she will never see or talk to you again. Is that what you really want?

Marshall collected the money with a sigh.

"Oh, don't look so gloomy!" she said. "Every time you get that wounded puppy eyed look you make me want to hold you and bake you cupcakes all over again."

Am I really that obvious? He wondered.

Marshall took one of the bottles of liquor, poured it into a shot glass, and just as he was about to down it; remembered his guest.

"Would you like some?" Marshal asked trying to be polite.

Tracy apprehensively studied the bottle of liquor. Other than small sips of wine at the occasional family get together, she had never tried alcohol.

"Why would I want some?" Tracy asked.

Marshal had been drinking for years, and the question of why had simply never occurred to him.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied. "If you ask me, I think this calls for a celebration. I mean, it's not everyday you discover a newfound talent for yourself that has the unlimited potential to rake in thousands."

"And you think you need alcohol to celebrate and have a good time?"

Marshal's first impulse was to reply, 'yes, of course,' but he thought better of it as he suspected it was a trick question.

"Of course, I suppose there ARE other ways to celebrate and have a good time," he admitted through clenched teeth.

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like…" Marshal sat there dumbfounded trying to come up with an answer. He wanted to say like sex or other drugs, but for some reason he didn't think she'd be very impressed with that sort of response.

"Like reading the bible and praising the lord?" Marshal asked.

"Ha! That'll be the day," she said as she curiously took a shot glass and began pouring herself the drink.

"Cheers," he said as they both went bottoms up.

Never in her life had Tracy imagined that a beverage could taste so foul. Her initial inclination was to gag and spit it out, but marshal had expected what was going to happen, and already he had the orange juice used from earlier prepared. She took the bottle greedily, and desperately drank the juice down in the attempt to rid her mouth of the vile taste.

"You're telling me that people drink this for fun?" Tracy asked him flabbergasted.

Marshal gave a soft chuckle as he replied, "Most people drink because they enjoy the effects—not the taste."

"Effects?" she giggled, "what effects?"

"If you're asking yourself that question then clearly you haven't drunk enough. Here, how about another?" Marshal asked as he poured her another shot.

In no time at all, Tracy was giggling and laughing sporadically. For the first time ever, she was making more money than she knew what to do with. Her teachers at school were talking about mitosis and quadratic formulas, her friends were talking about boys, tiffany jewelry and Ugg boots; and yet here she was, consumed by thoughts of aces, kings, queens, and the rush of being able to check raise with nothing but a seven, deuce off suite. She felt so happy, so on top of the world, that she decided Marshal was right—she deserved a minor celebration. She couldn't remember how many drinks she had, but she tried taking another shot, missed, and felt the wet, cool liquor softly pour down her shirt.

"Whoops, clumsy me," she giggled.

Eventually, she felt herself get a bit drowsy, and moved into the next room to lie down on the couch. Marshal followed her, and as he sat down next to her, she immediately moved next to his warm body; put her arm across his chest, her head on his shoulder, and slowly drifted off to a dreamy state of unconsciousness.

Marshal peered down at the sleeping body next to him, and all he could think about were her firm, soft breasts pressing against him. He wondered if he had any right to touch her. She was asleep and he felt a bit guilty for what he was thinking about, but at the same time he felt a bit of resentment from earlier. Had she asked him his permission to touch him from underneath the table? And besides, he thought looking for any way to justify his behavior, it's not like I'm going to have sex with her.

Timidly, he put his cold hand on her chest, and slowly worked his way down until he was cupping the full weight of her breast. He gently massaged her nipple with his thumb and forefinger, felt it almost immediately harden, and swore he heard a soft moan escape from her sleeping lips.

He rested his other hand on top of her knee. Gently, he slowly moved his hand up along her inner thigh, gradually getting closer and closer to the point where he could almost touch her pubic hair. For a little while he lightly traced the outside layering of the soft fabric of her under garment with his finger, until finally, he moved his hand underneath so that he could gently fondle her soft pubic area. Slowly, he moved his hand even lower, and with a finger he lightly traced and very outside folds of her moist opening. At long last, he eventually put one of his fingers inside of her. He moved his finger up and down along the soft inner folds of her opening, and grew nervous and almost retracted his finger as he heard her stir softly in her sleep.

After he felt confident she wasn't going to wake up, he started experimenting with pushing his finger inside of her to different depths. Eventually he began to move his way upwards, and tenderly began applying soft pressure to the areas around her clit. In all his life, Marshal could never remember a female feeling as wet she felt.

Tracy let out a soft, involuntary gasp as he finally applied direct pressure to her clit. Slowly, she regained consciousness, and was horrified as she finally became fully aware that he was slowly moving his fingers inside and out between her slightly parted legs and exposed opening.

She desperately wanted to tell him to stop, that this wasn't what she wanted, but her body betrayed her as he put yet another finger inside of her and thrust them slightly deeper than he had before. She gasped, felt her body convulse, and despite herself starting thrusting her body in a rhythmic motion in accordance to his fingers that were moving inside and out of her.

Suddenly he stopped, and with a small pang of nervous fear, Tracy heard the light snap of a belt buckle, followed by a soft zip.

It suddenly occurred to Tracy that there might only be one way out of this. As Marshal stood there with his enlarged, throbbing organ between them, she nervously took the opportunity to take his organ into her hands. After a moment, she gingerly moved her head forward, and did her best to take his organ into her mouth. At first she feared she might not be able to open her mouth wide enough to take it, but with a little grunted effort, she finally managed to stretch her jaw wide enough. She moved her mouth deep along his shaft until she nearly gagged, and as she tried to move her head back, she felt his hands on top of her head push her forward and make her take just a little bit more. Then, with his cock still in her mouth, she felt his hands apply soft pressure to the full weight of her breasts, while his fingers lightly caressed her nipples. With this she started to moan longingly, and started moving her mouth up and down along his shaft with increased frequency, and even felt encouraged as she heard a soft moan escape his lips. Then, just as she felt she was about to succeed with her original task, she felt him remove her head, turn her around, and place her on her knees before him. While holding her down forcibly, he removed her under garment and spread her legs. For a brief moment afterwards, Marshal couldn't help but marvel at her beauty as she lay there bare and exposed before him.

Tracy could have wept as she helplessly lay there before him with her legs spread and wide open before him. The heavy breathing she heard from behind frightened her, and more than anything she wanted to tell him that this wasn't what she wanted.

Marshal silently knelt behind her, and positioned his organ just behind her pink, inviting opening.

At long last, he attempted to move his organ inside of her. At first he struggled trying to enter her, and he realized he had almost forgotten how difficult it could be to enter a virgin. He spread her legs further apart and used his hand to spread her opening as wide as he could. Finally, after a moment of heated, grunted effort, he managed to get the head of his shaft inside of her. God, he thought. She's so tight that it almost hurts me.

Tracy let out a sharp, involuntary cry—in both agonizing pain and excruciating pleasure—as she felt herself stretch to make way for his thick, pulsating organ.

In between heated breaths, inch by inch he slowly made his way further inside of her. Every bit of the way she squealed and panted helplessly, and she suddenly began to fear that it would never end. Finally, with one sharp thrust and excruciating cry from Tracy, he penetrated her deeply using the full length of his shaft. Then, with his hands lying firmly on her hips, he pulled out slightly, then pulled her hips to him and entered her fully once again. With every thrust Tracy involuntarily squealed louder and louder as marshal began to relentlessly penetrate her again and again. Finally, with one final thrust and one final cry from Tracy, he felt his organ pulsate deeply from within while Tracy lay there helplessly moaning in soft, twisted pleasure.

At long last, Marshal pulled out and sat down next to her. He was completely and utterly spent, and had completely forgotten how hopelessly exhausting sex could be. Quietly, he took out a cigarette from the carton in his jeans pocket, lit it, inhaled deeply, and took the moment to ponder reflectively on the magic that had just occurred.