The Strip Ch. 05

Fuck, she was on fire! She felt his cock throb in the crease of her ass. She did that! She was halfway to an orgasm and she hadn't touched herself yet.

"You're doing very well, Rosie," Big Eddie groaned, his eyes leaving hers for a moment to sweep over her curvy nudity. She arched her back further, digging her shoulder blades into his chest while making quick little rotations with her hips. "I want to see you pinch your nipples."

"Haaa…" Rosie gasped as she obliged. Her fingers felt like a strangers as they squeezed and twisted her pink nubs. Big Eddie's hands moved to her body at last, brushing lightly along her hips, sliding beneath the strap of her thong.

"Geez, your skin's so soft…" he moaned, meeting her burning green eyes once again. Palming one full tit, she raised the freckled orb to her lips and brushed her tongue along the nipple. "Holy fuck!" Big Eddie shuddered, nearly cumming in his pants.

Rosie smiled wickedly at him and slid off his on-edge body. Hooking her thumbs into her thong, she bent forward as she dragged it down her long legs. She nearly lost the beat when she saw him rubbing himself through his trousers.

Her rocking hips found the melody once again. She sashayed back between his legs, bending low and tossing her long, copper locks between his thighs. She dragged her tits across his confined cock, up his chest, and across her face. Climbing naked into his lap, she squeezed her breasts around his head as her sex began grinding on that erection again.

"Fuck, Rosie!" Big Eddie exclaimed, pulling his face from her cleavage. "FUCK!" He wasn't mad. Far from it. He hadn't asked for her to go completely nude, although he'd planned on it. He hadn't gotten to the part where he'd order her to fuck him, but seeing that look in her large, green eyes, he wouldn't need to do that, either.

Her body was perfection. Flawlessly pale skin with a dusting of freckles across those jutting tits. Flat stomach, sexy little navel piercing, and a clean shaven sex that was going to feel so good wrapped around his—

Rosie slid off him again, this time sliding to her knees as her fingers began unzipping him. This wasn't part of the deal, but Rosie knew what was expected of her. She also needed this as much as he did.

"Fuuuuck…" he groaned as she frantically took him into her mouth. Her urgency turned him on, they way she'd instantly assumed control. "That's it," he growled, dropping the brandy glass to the floor and ignoring the growing stain on the carpet. What was important was that both his hands were free to grasp her hair and direct her movements.

An uninhibited moan slipped out of the woman', vibrating around the man-flesh passing in and out of her throat. This was crazy. How could she be so desperate for this bastard who simply wanted to take advantage of her? She was like a crazed animal as her mouth devoured him, but she needed more.

"I'm close," he growled. She knew exactly what he wanted.

Slurping off the surprised gangster, she reversed down onto his lap. Reaching between his legs, she dragged his thick cock against her silky furrow and sheathed him, groaning with each of the three passes it took to take him fully inside.

The gangster's hands were all over her. "Time to get fucked, honey," he grunted, lifting his ass from the chair to jam himself into her. One upward thrust followed another; each throaty growl growing louder.

The bastard had somehow gained a second wind. Rosie bit her lower lip in an attempt to stifle her moans but it was too much. She came, disgorging layer after layer of sticky syrup around his thick hardness.

"Oh fuckohfuck!"

He fucked her through her orgasm, bouncing her on his lap as he closed in on his own nirvana. "Come on baby—" he gasped, "come on!"

She contracted and expanded her muscles around his hardness, a trick that Charlie had never been able to resist. The ripple effect had the same impact on the gangster. "What the fuck—"

Two more ripples instantly did it for him. Just as he prepared to detonate, she was off him and back down between his legs. The first blast hit the back of her throat even before she was settled. As further bursts followed, her slim fingers milked his juice-covered cock, teasing out every drop he had.

When he had nothing left, she released him and he slumped back into the leather chair. "Hey," he said as she gathered her clothes. "I'm going book you down for some of the private parties I cater for. They're going to love you."

Rosie shivered. She knew only too well about the parties Eddie catered for. The girls that did them were full of stories. It wasn't a scene she wanted to get into. Slipping on her bra, she shook her head. "I don't think—"

"You don't think?" he cut her off. "You owe me fifty grand and you don't think!?! Honey, do you know what I pay my girls? Double what you earn—two and a half thousand a night! You do twenty five private parties for me and that'll erase your debt."

"Twenty five?" she gasped, zipping up her dress. She quickly did the math in her head. Was he trying to cheat her again? "But that's way over the fifty thousand figure!"

The gangster let out a loud guffaw. "Honey, you didn't think you were getting an interest-free loan, did you? Twenty five and we'll call it even."

She checked her anger and turned towards the door. Was there no end to this? "What about the… dance?" she suddenly asked, swinging back. "You said—"

"The dance?" he grinned. "That was hot, honey. Let's say I get one of those from time to time just for keeping the loan sharks away.

***

Kay Kristen had phoned that morning, explaining to Lauren that a van would pick her up outside the Bellagio around noon. Nothing was said about lunch, although the blonde wasn't expecting it, anyway. She wanted to look good on camera, and that meant consuming as little as possible before the shoot.

The van was there on the dot, shiny black and filled with photography equipment. Dan, Kay's main photographer, was driving, although the Agency Head wasn't inside.

"Hey, Lauren," Dan said pleasantly as he opened the sliding back door and helped her in. "We've one other stop before we go out on location," he explained as she took her seat and they pulled out into the Las Vegas heat.

They made small talk as they left the strip and wound into the suburban sprawl that had grown up around Sin City. Lauren talked about the night before, although left out the details of how she'd almost gotten it on with a couple random guys at the club. She was thankful that her hangover was finally subsiding, too. Bags under the eyes would show on film, no matter how much she tried to disguise them.

They pulled up to a non-descript, single-story building identical to every other home they'd passed along this street. A guy holding a gym bag hopped up from the stoop and jogged over to the van, jumping in next to Lauren.

His broad shoulders looked good on his slender frame, she thought. And with his dark crew cut and aviators, he reminded her of Tom Cruise, right out of Top Gun.

"Hi, I'm Jimmy," he introduced, holding out his large hand for her to shake. She took it as Dan pulled back out onto the highway.

"Lauren," she responded, unsure of his role.

"Jimmy's going to be shooting with you today," Dan explained over his shoulder. "The spread calls for a guy and a girl. Didn't Kay explain that?"

Lauren shook her head. This was certainly a surprise. She'd never shot with another model before, although as she let her eyes play across Jimmy's slender build, she felt her body grow hot. This wasn't going to be so bad!

The shoot was about an hour out of the city limits, in the middle of a desert. When Dan pulled into the parking lot of what looked to be an abandoned roadhouse bar, at first Lauren didn't realize that this was their destination.

"She's not pretty on the outside, but the interior will give us some excellent backdrops," the photographer explained as he began hauling his equipment out. "And look at that horizon…"

Lauren's brown eyes followed his, finally seeing beyond the dilapidated structure. The Nevada scrubland opened up before her, disappearing in the hazy heat just as it met the mountains. It was majestic in a way she'd never experienced. Profoundly beautiful in its openness.

"Let's go, my English lass," Dan laughed as he and Jimmy marched into the rundown bar.

True to Dan's word, the inside wasn't as bad as she was expecting. If the bar wasn't in use anymore, it couldn't have been very long ago that the owners packed up and shipped out. The bar was still polished, the cobwebs and trash hadn't yet begun to build up in the corners. Even the straw on the floor looked relatively fresh.

"No furniture," Jimmy commented, pushing his aviators up on top of his head.

"Nah. We'll be using the bar, anyway." He handed each of them a garment bag and said they could change in the storeroom. When Lauren looked hesitantly at the male model, Dan shared a humorous smile with Jimmy. "There are a couple rooms back there, if you're worried about your modesty," he told her.

Lauren's second shock was when she opened her bag. She wasn't sure what she was modelling, but as she pulled out the tiny scraps of clothing that had been left for her, she realized this probably wasn't a shoot for Esquire or Redbook.

"What do you want us to wear first?" she asked, poking her head out the door, where the photographer was setting up his lamps.

"The red bikini, cowboy boots, and the jean shorts," he replied without looking up.

The 'red bikini,' it turned out, stretched the definition of 'bikini' to the limits. It was by far the tiniest thing she'd ever slipped into, the thong back smaller than many pairs of underwear she wore, not the mention the narrow triangles that barely concealed her nipples. At least the jean shorts—short-short cutoffs—helped cover part of her ass.

Jimmy and Dan were waiting for her to emerge. The male model wore a tight pair of trunks in the same red as her bikini. The rest of his Baywatch body was bare for her wandering eyes. God, he was sexy. Rich, dark tan. A slim upper body that tapered down into a narrow waist. She could even see each ripple of his washboard abs. There wasn't an ounce of excess fat on him.

In front of them was an open bottle of tequila and three, already filled shot glasses. Lauren's hang over was still fresh in her mind—not to mention her empty stomach—but when she was handed a glass, she wasn't about to turn it down.

"To the start of a very successful new career," Dan toasted. They rattled the small shots against one another and threw back the burning liquor.

A half hour later, Lauren and Jimmy were ready: make-up applied, bodies oiled, light levels were set. The tequila had set in, too, and despite herself, Lauren felt giddy with anticipation. She was ready for this challenge.

The shots started out tame, despite their minimal outfits. Dan built a story with his lens. Couple meets at a bar. They flirt. He took pictures of Jimmy behind the bar and Lauren leaning suggestively against it. "Unbutton the front of your shorts, Lauren, and roll the hem down… yes, like that!"

She knew the thong back of her micro bikini was exposed to the camera, but instead of shaming her, she felt energized. She grew into her role of flirt.

The poses brought the two of them closer to one another. She felt Jimmy's breath on her lips as Dan moved about them, snapping off shot after shot. His dark eyes were smoldering. Did she look like that, too?

"I want you up on the bar now, Lauren." She obeyed, splaying her tawny body across the polished wood. Jimmy moved without instruction, running his broad hands across her flat stomach. His fingertips followed her ribcage up to the underside of her nearly exposed breasts as he leaned down again, as though closing in for a kiss.

"There, hold that!" Dan barked, breaking the spell that had fallen over the two of them. When the photographer had his shots, Jimmy's lips pulled away. Lauren suppressed her groan.

They broke for some water and a reapplication of the oil that turned them into glistening hard bodies, and then it was back into the shoot.

While Dan worked them hard, Lauren realized that the shoot wasn't the only thing hard. She was behind the bar for this particular shot, her body leaning forward, her back bowed so that her ass pushed back. Jimmy moved up behind her, slipping his thumbs into the exposed strings on either side of her bikini bottoms. "Get closer to her, Jimmy," Dan barked. Jimmy did as instructed and then she felt it. A cock. A hard cock.

A thrill ran through her, even as she shot him a glance over her shoulder. Jimmy simply shrugged. If he could deal with this, so could she, she thought, attempting to blank her mind of this otherwise very sexual experience.

As she felt Jimmy's fingers move up along her lower back, following her spine to the haltered strap of her top, those Zen-like attempts to find inner-calm went out the window. Her body was on fire and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. Feeling his cock slide across her ass, she revised that thought. There certainly was a thing that could help.

They moved into a new position—this time with Jimmy on his back on the bar and Lauren straddling his hard body. He whispered, "You're so fucking hot." That Tom Cruise grin only legitimised the statement, as did his cock, flexing against her leg. She shivered, her nipples mimicking his erection.

"Lose the jeans, Lauren," Dan ordered, once again drawing her from her thoughts.

Rolling onto her back, she was perfectly aware of that both sets of eyes were on her. Slowly, she peeled the tight shorts over her thighs and down her long, shapely legs. When she climbed back into Jimmy's lap, she brushed her swollen mound against the other model's cock. Only the thin, red material of their suits kept them from fucking.

And Geez, did she need to be fucked! Feeling the crown of his rigid member bump across her cloth-covered clit nearly sent her flying.

Much to her consternation, Dan got his shots off too quickly. "Next, we're going to do a couple solo shots. Jimmy, could you start setting up the outdoor shoot while I work with Lauren?"

The blonde groaned in frustration. So close, and now Jimmy's beautiful body was being taken from her! Maybe later, on some break, she could drag the man into the changing room and fuck him silly. She was delirious, and it had nothing to do with the desert heat.

***

Confidence high, Holly had run over her table all day.

An immediate consequence of that astonishing first hand was the instant respect she'd gained and she'd used that to her advantage whenever the situation allowed. And sometimes when it didn't. Not one bluff was called, and perfect reading decreed she invariably had the goods when someone stood up to her.

The good few hours of power poker had increased her stack fivefold by the time the evening dinner-break arrived. With several thousand hungry players, their friends and families all vying for sustenance, her idea at the previous interval kicked into action. Ordering a club sandwich room service was a brainwave.

The quick shower made her feel human again and the sandwich began to restore some of her zapped energy. Sex with Daniel, followed by five hours of heavy-duty concentration and near perfect poker, had left her drained. And extraordinarily horny. Maybe a power nap would help?

Pulling two high-energy drinks from the refrigerator, the blonde devoured the first and set the second beside the bed. Setting the alarm on her bedside phone, she reasoned that with the food and energy drinks, a twenty-minute nap would quickly refresh her. Concentration was essential to prevent her donking away her favourable chip position

Five minutes restlessness told her that her need for sex was outweighing her requirement for sleep. Despite the satisfaction gained from her early morning session with Daniel, it wasn't enough. It never was. Was she the only woman sex affected that way? Sometimes she thought it safer just to stay celibate!

Reaching for her cell phone, she called the number Daniel had given her. Despite her rules, if the young man was anywhere around the hotel, she'd have him. He wasn't, or at least he didn't answer.

Okay—plan B!

It took seconds to shed her black blouse, her nipples instantly hardened by the cool air. Her black jeans quickly followed. Catching her reflection in the mirror, naked except for the little black thong, she looked as hot as she felt.

The small Pocket Rocket she pulled from the drawer was her favourite and the fast rotational speed was perfect for the short time available. The low hum as she switched it on increased her anticipation. Geez, she so needed this!

Circling the vibrator around each nipple, she teased herself for a few seconds only before running it down her washboard flat stomach. A soft moan escaped her wet lips as she slipped it under the thong and ran it across her clit. Fuck, that felt good. Let the small vibrator do the work. That was the secret.

Her moan was inevitable as she dragged the shivering length along her wet folds. She wanted to prolong the moment, but the faster vibrations were already beginning to trigger her inevitable climax.

She thought of Daniel as she thrust it all the way inside, allowing it to do his work. She needed a masturbation fantasy and this was his cock. The pace of her breathing sharpened. One hand went to her breasts while the other dragged the thong away, allowing her fingers better access to her clit.

The fantasy took shape behind her closed eyes. A soft gasp escaped. It was Daniel fucking her. Her back arched. Her head dug back deep into the pillow. The Pocket Rocket was doing its work, as was her recollection of Daniel's body.

When the deep, liquid orgasmic wave quickly swept through her body, she let herself go. Who cared if anyone heard her yelping howls?

***

Daniel wasn't sure how good an idea this was. His mind was still in a whirl. Yesterday, he'd picked up a ten thousand dollar cheque after an amazing poker debut. Today, his long-term girlfriend had left him and he'd fucked—or was that been fucked by—the poker playing woman he'd only just met.

So why had he felt so compelled to visit Midnight Hot? Rosie might not even be there—God knows what hours she worked. His timing was based on her visit to Binion's yesterday. She'd said she was on her way to the club. If she had the same shift, she'd have been there, but so far, all that had happened was that he'd had a quiet drink and got a feel for the place.

He was shocked.

The type of exotic dancing, even at this early hour, made the place seem more like a strip club. In the hour he'd sat quietly beside the bar, he'd seen four different girls perform. The spiky haired one stood out.

They were all good, but spiky one was exceptional. The way she'd looked in the low cut gold bra and skimpy thong, never mind her sexy gyrations around the stage, had him hard within a couple of minutes. And no doubt had brought the same condition on all the guys watching, such were the bills they through on stage. He'd hoped she would have reappeared after her early dance, but it looked like she'd finished for the day.

He thumbed the empty Bud bottle down on the bar. The third had gone down more quickly than the other two. "Another," he told the bartender. So what if he was paying exorbitant prices, he was now a wealthy man. The bonus cheque the Practically Poker people had told him was coming his way increased his earnings to fifteen thousand. It would be presented at a soon-to-be arranged ceremony where they'd get maximum publicity.