Alien Vacation Ch. 10

Been a while, I know, and I'm sorry about that. Paying the bills has to come first. I also kinda wrote myself into a corner of just too much going on with this one and it took me a while to realize I had to back out of it. I wanted to get to the big poker game before posting, but it's been way too long since I threw in an installment.

I'll also admit the state of the world has made it kind of hard to write light-hearted smut stuff. On the other hand, a lot of people could really use a break from our ongoing dumpster fires, and I want to help with that. So to address a couple of comments I've seen directly: the lean toward sex and playtime rather than plot is deliberate. I want to embrace the endless vacation angle on this series. Kyle and company will save the day here and there, but this is meant to be a story about fucking around with good fortune.

I hope to follow with more installments sooner rather than later, both with this and other series!

Tags up front: alien, psychic powers, harem, consent, fffm, lingerie, cunnilingus, blowjob, power fantasy, group sex.

*****

"Hit me," said Kyle. The dealer dropped a seven of clubs onto his nine of hearts. Kyle patiently watched the round play through for the rest of the table. Another player was knocked out straight away.

Do it again. Go for it, counseled Xin.

Not the greatest spot here, he considered.

Better than the dealer's. I'm keeping track.

"One more," said Kyle. The three of spades felt like a relief. Then Kyle watched the dealer flip over a five with his queen...and pull a seven. "Yes," he hissed.

"Good call," the dealer conceded—and not for the first time. "That's four thousand."

He stared down at his winnings. Even before this win, his pile of chips outmatched everything he could pull in for a whole year at his courier job. Hell, it was more than he would have earned even before the feds and the state got their share of his paychecks. All of it was built up from his initial starting cash, too. He had much more of that still to go.

They'd been at this barely more than an hour.

"What's the maximum at this table?" Kyle wondered.

"Ten thousand," the dealer said with a smile. No one at the table had come even close to that—it felt big enough to be playing in the low four figures. It was the dealer's job to make these big bets feel easy.

They weren't easy, of course. Not for ordinary people. Kyle reminded himself he didn't need to play like that today. "Let's do it."

"Oh wow, bro. That's not the rent there, is it?" asked a Latino player at the table. "You're on a streak, but damn."

"Wouldn't bet it if I hadn't already covered all the bills," Kyle assured him. "But thanks."

No one else put down such high stakes. The dealer pulled a nine for himself and a queen for Kyle. At that point, Kyle paid little attention to the other players. He waited for his second card—which turned out to be another queen. He grinned widely while others groaned and laughed ruefully. To his credit, the dealer kept a straight face as he went over again.

I really feel like four queens would be more appropriate, Kyle thought to his passenger and companion.

Four? Aw, that's sweet of you to include me. Looking forward to number five, though.

It's been like two minutes and we only just saw her, he countered. Mindful of his surroundings and the people around him despite the psychic conversation, Kyle tapped his chips into place. "Let's do it again," he said. He put down another bet for the dealer, too, figuring two hundred would be appropriate given the high stakes.

"I'm sorry, could we pause for one second, sir?" asked another voice. Kyle watched as an older dealer smoothly replaced the first. Neither of them said much to the other. It seemed almost expected, though Kyle knew it for what it was.

"Oh, sure. Sorry, guess it's not a bet, then," Kyle said, pushing off the bet for the first dealer as a tip and adding another black chip to it. Even in a casino this nice, he doubted many of the staff were paid as much as they should be.

I'm just saying. There's fun and then there's fun. You're more interested in women than all this money and gambling, anyway.

Yeah, but the money frees us up to focus entirely on women. And we've got a couple more minutes to kill until the others get back anyway, right?

"Sir, do you want to change your bet?" asked the senior dealer.

"No thank you, I'll let it stand," said Kyle...and then beat him at the next hand. And the next.

The player beside him pulled through with a couple of hands, but he bet nowhere near as much on any of them. "Jesus Christ, dude. You psychic or something?"

"Hey, there's no rule against it," Kyle joked.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?" asked the dealer.

"No thanks. I'm only waiting for someone. I'll be out in another round or two."

"You're perfectly welcome to stay and play," said the dealer.

Familiar, feminine hands slipped up around his waist. He knew it was Angela before he felt her hair dangling against him. "Hey babe, how's it—holy shit," she said, her eyes widening as she looked over his shoulder.

"Damn," said Asami, coming in beside her. "Ballsy much?"

"What are we—? Oh." Miranda slipped in on Kyle's other side. He caught a slight, disapproving sigh from her, but also a smile. "I leave you alone for a minute," she lamented wryly.

"It was like ten," said Kyle.

"We were busy winning," said Angela. She gave him a harmless slap on the arm with the little faux-leather casino purse full of her chips.

"Hey, can you spread the winning around?" asked one of the other players. Most of the rest laughed.

"Sorry, are we ready to go?" asked the dealer.

"Yeah, I'm good. Let's go," said Kyle.

"You've lost a few hands, too, you know," Miranda reminded him.

"I'm feeling pretty good about my judgment," Kyle replied, winking at her. Then he looked at the table and found himself staring at a sixteen.

"Booyah!" announced another player. The gentleman who'd counseled Kyle against betting the rent had pulled a natural win with an ace and a jack. Kyle smiled for the man's luck, but it didn't do anything for his own situation.

"Never hit on a sixteen," Miranda muttered, too quietly to be heard except for their psychic connections.

"What? Nah, always hit on a sixteen," Asami countered just as softly with a playful grin.

"It's a lot of money," said Miranda.

"Yeah, but it's not my money," Asami joked.

Kyle frowned. His only response was silent, meant for his silent partner: That's the first ace we've seen out of this cut, right? And we've only seen a couple other low cards?

Yep.

Kyle glanced to the dealer's hand. His eight was showing, but the other remained face down.

Er...did you want me to keep track of the dealer's other card? I stopped doing that twenty minutes ago.

"Oh shit," Kyle blinked. He thought Xin would've warned him against doing anything stupid with exactly that knowledge. Apparently she really didn't ride his every thought.

"Sir?" the dealer asked.

C'mon now, look like you just fucked up your cheating strategy, Xin teased.

Oh, hush, he thought. He considered his strategy and laughed inwardly at the issue of which girlfriend to listen to. It was the worst reason to make a gambling decision, but he didn't exactly take this money as seriously as anyone else at the table would have.

"Hit me," said Kyle.

The dealer pulled a four for Kyle—and then overshot when he had to draw another card for himself. "Winner," the dealer conceded. Laughter and applause erupted around the table.

"Okay, I'm done," said Kyle, smiling like the rest. "I don't want to keep anyone waiting."

"No worries on my account," said Angela.

"Yeah, fuck it. Your call," said Asami. Miranda only smirked.

"No, I said we're out, and...okay fine, one more hand," he said, and placed another three-digit bet for the dealer. Tips got pooled at the end of the night, after all. He or Xin had picked that up in a stray thought from somebody somewhere.

Weren't you afraid of developing a habit? Xin teased.

Yes, but I also want to get the money issues squared away so we can move on to better things, and you know it, Kyle fired back. He filled his imagination with thoughts of railing his other companions from behind to punctuate his point as the dealer passed out cards...and then thought twice about his decision to stay even for another hand.

Xin laughed. He ignored it in favor of the cards, but this was already a little old. He had a fourteen with this hand. He also had three incredible girlfriends and scraps of a plan to make things even more ridiculous. Two cards adding up to a fourteen and a bunch of chips on the table versus that? Did he even care now?

Want some help?

Yes.

Let it stand.

He did. The rest of the table made their calls, only for the dealer to overshoot. On the bright side for him, that meant another big tip into the pool.

"Thank you," Kyle said to the dealer and to his fellow players. "Can we color up? I've gotta go." He slipped out of his chair to turn to the others as soon as his winnings were collected. "Hey, thanks."

"For what?" Asami asked.

"Breaking from the plan. It's only been an hour."

"Whatever. We can't hammer any one casino too hard anyway, right?" Angela pointed out. She grinned from ear to ear. "I didn't expect to win so fucking much."

"But what's going on? Miranda didn't want to tell us until we were all together," said Asami.

Go ahead. I'll make sure we're left alone and ignored, Xin assured him as they strolled away from the table in a tight group. Nobody will overhear a thing.

"There's a high-stakes poker game across the street tomorrow night and I think I can get in," Kyle explained. "We're talking millions. It's private. And a bunch of the players deserve to go to jail...after every one of them loses their shirts."

"Also, Kyle is lusting after one of the players' wives," Miranda added casually.

He bit his lip. She smiled. He looked to the others and admitted, "That, too."

"Cool. I'm down," said Angela.

"Me, too," said Asami.

"You're all amazing," Kyle sighed.

"We talked about this," Asami grinned. "I don't know why we're talking about only one new woman. We're all gonna play, too. Anyway, if it's tomorrow night, is there something we need to do about it now? Is that why you wanted to regroup?"

"For starters, I could use your help with a little psychic recon."

Angela spun to face him, her eyes wide and her lips spread into the lewdest of grins. "Fuck yes."

"What?" Miranda asked.

"It's easier for him to use his powers if he trances out while we get it on," Angela explained. "And it's the best."

"Really?" Miranda grinned with intrigue.

"I dunno, I can think of a couple other 'best' kinds of...okay, okay," Asami giggled when Angela grabbed her wrist to tug her along. "Here I thought I wasn't playing it cool enough."

"There's no point hiding it from him, anyway," Angela laughed back.

"We did come here for this kind of fun," Miranda agreed, sauntering after them.

Kyle followed, stopped only by a voice behind him: "Damn, man. Are all three of them your girlfriends?" He'd been at the blackjack table through Kyle's winning streak. His buzz cut and dark blond goatee seemed to highlight the quiet frustration on his face. Flames ran up one side of the black bowling shirt that hung from his thick shoulders.

"I'm sorry?" Kyle asked.

"I guess some guys have all the luck. Or they get all the money and then they get the girls."

"I feel pretty lucky, but maybe the money and the women aren't so connected," Kyle frowned.

Oh hell. Kyle, I'm sorry. I can't get through this guy.

What?

"Whatever," said the stranger. "Listen, man: you gotta tell me your secret. The tables, I mean. I watched you and I couldn't figure it out. How do you do it?"

His mind is slippery. Scattered. It's why he didn't ignore us and why I didn't notice him following. Something's wrong. It's all cocaine and alcohol in there.

Kyle wasn't shocked. He'd seen enough of both in his life, particularly during his ER internship while in nursing school. All the little ticks and bits of body language were there.

"You gotta help me. Come on. I'm dyin' at these tables, man. My bitch is going after everything in the divorce. I ain't asking for much, just a little help, and you've got everything."

"Your bitch?" Kyle asked.

He hit her.

"Don't judge me. You weren't there."

"I don't care. I can't help you," said Kyle. He turned to go. Angela was already ahead of him, as was Miranda. Asami was ahead, too, but turned back, realizing he'd fallen behind.

"C'mon!" said the stranger. He grabbed Kyle's wrist. "Look, you can tell me something to help or I swear to God—"

He's got a gun.

"—I'm gonna shoot up this whole—"

Kyle grabbed the offending hand, removing it from his wrist while expertly hooking his fingers under the man's thumb as he removed it from his wrist. Footwork brought him around the stranger, pulling him further off-balance, turning his opponent halfway around in a circle and bringing him to his knees in pain.

"Motherfucker!" the stranger growled. He reached for the back of his waistband. Kyle stomped on the stranger's free hand before it got around the pistol hidden in a waistband holster. He couldn't actually pin the gun hand without releasing the other, and that would surrender his hold and his control.

The problem vanished in the next moment. Asami was there in a flash, one hand on the guy's wrist and her other on his head, pushing his face into the floor. "Stay down, asshole," she ordered with a growl that would frighten a rabid bear. "You fucked up enough, don't make it worse."

Security arrived in only seconds. Kyle saw uniforms and suits. "Everyone hold up, what's going on?" asked one of the suits.

"I'm a cop. LAPD," said Asami. "He's armed. Gun in a holster at his back. You might want to grab it before we let go." Instantly, three more men joined in the tangle of bodies.

"Fuck you, I've got a permit for that!" sputtered the stranger. Blood pooled under his face from his broken nose.

"Yeah? You got a permit for assault, too?" Asami retorted.

"Okay, we've got it. Ma'am, do you have any ID?"

"Yes. Sorry, hold on. This is why I shouldn't wear skirts, they never have pockets..."

Kyle said nothing. He kept his hold while the security guards did their thing. He had plenty of questions that didn't require speaking, though: What the hell just happened? How did I do that?

Oh. Forgot to tell you. Remember how I keep building up excess psychic energy when we fuck and I have to either use it or lose it? Turns out you picked up a whole lot of Asami's skills last night and this morning. Congratulations.

"What?" he blinked.

"I said I've got it, sir," said one of the guards. "We have the gun, please let him go and step back."

He complied. He had something new to deal with anyway. Are you serious? Kyle thought.

Yeah, it seemed like it might all be useful at some point, but I sure didn't expect this, Xin told him—in Japanese. He understood her perfectly.

* * *

The little conference room provided plenty of space for the interview. More importantly to the casino management, it took the scene of uniformed cops and a criminal report off the casino floor.

"I don't even expect you'll hear from us again on this, to be honest," said the officer seated across from Kyle and Asami. He folded up his notepad. "Not with the assault on four different security cameras and with everything that ran out of his mouth while we put him in the car. I think we're done unless you've got anything else to add?"

"Nope," said Kyle. He was more than happy to let this go—particularly without the officer double-checking the minor errors in Kyle's contact info. Xin helped with that. Neither of them wanted his name coming up on any searches. If they needed him, they'd find him through Asami, anyway. "We're all good."

"Thank you both for your help," said the officer. "We'll be in touch if we need you." He stepped out. The door fell closed on its own behind him, leaving the pair alone. Angela and Miranda had already peeled off to talk to the hotel management, whose thanks and apologies for the incident kicked up a couple notches as soon as the managers realized these were luxury penthouse guests.

"Did I say thanks for the rescue?" Kyle asked quietly, looking to Asami as the door closed.

"Yeah, right after they pulled that asshole away from us. Looked like you had it handled, though. That was a slick move there, stud."

"Yeah, there's a story behind how I pulled that off. I'm still glad you were there to help. Maybe I had it handled, but you ended it."

"Maybe that was a little rough, but he threatened you and I was pissed. I didn't come here to be a cop. I came here to play with you. That guy delayed the game. Soon as you said you were gonna use us, I started melting down. Been feeling it ever since." She eyed him with a sly smile. "Think anyone noticed?"

His other companion read his mind as always. He didn't even look to the door and the half-turned blinds on the window beside it. I've got this room under full control, babe. Consider it locked up and blacked out, babe.

Kyle stood, helping Asami up from her seat and right into his arms for a demanding kiss. Her strong and assertive demeanor vanished as if he'd flipped a switch. Asami whimpered and leaned into his body, yielding to his every touch.

Her hands only groped his body for a second. Then they went to work on his belt and his pants. As soon as he was loosened up, Kyle grabbed Asami's hips and spun her around to put her on the conference room table. Her loose, short skirt was even easier to deal with than his jeans. A little rustling of fabic and her groin was exposed; one sharp jerk of her lace panties and she was completely vulnerable to him. Vulnerable and wanting.

Neither of them bothered with more foreplay. Kyle pushed into her without a second thought, his lusts soaring with the warm and wet embrace of her pussy. The tightness of her flesh relieved him as he invaded her, as if he belonged here and should've been inside her all day. Asami moaned as he penetrated deeper and deeper, heedless of how her voice might carry. Xin shared one fleeting thought from Asami's mind as it fell into total surrender: Asami knew Kyle owned this room as solidly as he owned her right now.

Clearly, both of his partners knew just how to rev him up. Kyle thrust harder into Asami, selfish and rough, feeling powerful within her, savoring her moans and the little flashes of her thoughts from Xin. They dove into their roles, with Asami melting down into submissive bliss as Kyle fucked her harder.

"Oh god, like that...use me...all you want...use me..."

Wordlessly, Xin bound them together on an empathic channel, making everything all the more real and pure. Kyle embraced her invitation as much in possessive thoughts as actions. Asami welcomed it all. She wanted this from him all the time. She wanted Kyle to throw her down and fuck her whenever he felt like it. With him, she could drop her guard and her responsibilities and crawl into cuddles and affection and this dirty, shameful, hardcore fucking.

She didn't have to do anything but fuck him back. Didn't have to do anything but take it and come. Her and the others.

Kyle liked that. So did someone else. Yes. Yes. Fuck yes.

Where are they? Kyle asked.

Xin split his attention. Half of his conscious mind savored the gifts of Asami's body as if he thought of nothing else. The other half flashed with images of the special check-in desk for their suite, of Miranda and Angela gratefully catching details from the manager. He apologized for the incident, wanted to make it up for them, waived through fees and surcharges and comped a dinner at the casino's upscale headline restaurant.