Brothers in Trouble

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"This place. It makes me nervous."

"Me too. But it excites me."

"Maybe we should change places."

"Just a second," she giggled, removing his shoes to pull the rest of his clothes off. Then standing, she also got naked. "Get in the middle of the bed," she insisted. When he complied, her pussy settled onto his mouth and she recommenced sucking him.

Her pussy revealed her excitement. Juicy and hot. Even so, it took some work to finally get her off. By then she'd gotten him fully hard and slid her wetness down his torso until its source met the tip of his cock. Neither thought about protection. Neither thought at all. Pleasure had trumped everything else.

Fully grasping her thick, firm ass, pulling her onto him and up over and over, he lifted his mouth to take hold of her breasts, first one and then the other, the flesh retreating as she rose until his lips gripped her nipples. He managed to pull pillows beneath his head to keep it in place to continue the sucking. Once done, his hands joined in.

"Oh fuck," she moaned. And variations. Repeating each time his cock filled her quim. Shifting angles as she rode him. First a higher position. Then lower. Not so much lifting and falling, but rubbing across his pubic bone. Then, becoming chaotic, she bounced atop him, and her hand reached down to press where his pubic bone had pressed, but even more directly. Giving her the last friction she needed to cum.

His hands once more attached to her ass, he pulled her beneath him so that he could be wild and chaotic. Thrusting high, hard and fast, not only rushing to orgasm, but sustaining hers, or reinstating it, so that when he pushed deep and pulsed out cum, he felt her throbs surround his. And she felt the heat of his ejaculate spraying deep inside.

"Fuck," he said.

"Yeah," she giggled weakly.

He turned her back atop him, somehow keeping his subsiding cock inside until it became too small to stay in. She sighed when she felt it slip out.

"Still tired?" she asked.

"Yeah. But..."

"Curious?"

"I'd like to check out the gambling."

"Okay."

They got up. Dressed. Underwear over wet genitals. Marcy realized the casino meant dressing up and looked through the closet, the sports jacket collection. Finding a cowboy shirt with pearl snap buttons, she put it on. A drawer had belts, and she found one with lots of loops and a silver rodeo buckle and secured it, with a lot of leftover leather. And shrugged.

"Cute," says Nigel, which made her smile.

When they moved past the curtain, Nigel holding it open for her, grandniece and great aunt sat together behind the large desk.

"Ssh," said Celia, facing their direction.

Connie turned her head and smiled at them.

"We're thinking about gambling," Nigel explained.

Celia nodded and pulled open the drawer with money and measured the amount somehow and handed it to Nigel.

"Thanks."

"Thank you."

Marcy poured a couple more drinks, handing one to Nigel before they exited the office.

Reggie sat at a blackjack table. "Good choice," Nigel thought. A cute brunette sat close to him. A lacy red bra did little to hide her firm little tits, the white covering that reached just below them, her firm tummy completely naked, hid even less, being virtually transparent. The violet mini skirt may have been more opaque, but the panties, matching her bra, showed on her hips and the gusset flashed as she shifted in her chair and widened her legs.

"How's it going?" Nigel asked his brother.

"Okay. This will be my last hand. Rose's break is about to end, and she wants me to watch her dance. After, she says the VIP room is very private."

Reggie's hand busted and he grabbed his chips, bringing them over to a cage where it got turned back into cash. Rose stuck with him, showing him the door that would bring them down the stairs to the strip club. The top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. Even with her high blocky heel shoes. Nice firm little ass though, Nigel noticed.

"You speak English?" Nigel asked the middle aged woman behind the metal mesh when he took Reggie's place there. Full figured and brassy, overly made up, though respectably dressed in a pants suit, probably by Queenie's order, the woman looked like a whore past her prime, and probably was.

"Yes," she said impatiently.

He handed her all his cash. "Chips for the poker table."

She exchanged it for a variety of chips, most the largest denomination.

"Could you break these down?" Nigel asked.

"That's the ante," she said.

Nigel nodded. High stakes. He noticed the blackjack minimum had been high, but a quarter of the poker.

"What do you want to do?" he finally asked Marcy.

"Mind if I watch? I don't know much about gambling."

Nigel chuckled. "Hard to avoid basically growing up in Reno," he said.

There were a couple chairs free next to each other. Not unusual. Most of the men at the table had girls beside them. Most looking bought for the company. If not from Queenie's place, mistresses.

Nigel ended up sitting next to one of the two guys wearing a t shirt and jeans, the black leather sports jacket for propriety. The face of a masked wrestler covered the entirety of the front of the t-shirt. He was a handsome older guy. His dreadlocks made him look like a mixed race rasta. Nigel thought his features suggested Jewish and Caribbean. He was also the only man who smiled at him.

The choice of play surprised Nigel. Five card draw. "Everyone's playing Texas Hold'em," Nigel said.

"We are not in Texas," the mocha skinned man smirked.

"Good point," Nigel chuckled.

"Dealer's choice," the man explained. "None of that wild shit though."

"Of course."

The man had a slight lilt to his accent. Jamaican probably. But British mostly. Cultured.

"So you know Queenie?" the man asked.

"We just met. I came with her grandniece."

"The Contessa? All grown up."

"So you've know Queenie for a while."

"We've been around each other."

"Does she have one of your jackets?"

He laughed. "I heard about that. So it's true?"

"Yes."

"She's not my type."

"Too old?"

"Too female."

"Ah."

"Explains me having no chippy. I enjoy the few clever ones' company. Mostly the ones who prefer their own sex as well. A bit of a respite I suppose."

As they talked, the game continued to be five card draw. Nigel managed to win a smaller pot, so was about even. The problem with draw poker as opposed to Texas Hold-em was less strategy. Tells mostly, beyond the obvious amount of discards. The Rasta smirked, choosing Texas Hold'em. "For my new North of the Border friend."

They ended up doing battle with another player. By the turn, Nigel already had a full house. Aces and twos of all things. Except for the aces showing, all the other cards were clubs. Including the river. Besides a most unlikely inside straight flush, the only thing that would beat him, he couldn't imagine why two gamblers would go against him.

Except Nigel had showed himself to be a bluffer. The hand he won, and a couple he lost. And he bet the same as them, carefully at first, and then heavy at the end.

"All in," Nigel said when the river came up, not letting anyone know it actually hadn't helped him. Since it kept the possible straight flush going, and maybe one of them did actually have the four of clubs, he could only hope that the two going in as well, one thought it was a bluff and the other thought he had at least a flush.

Turned out his new friend had a pair of kings and the other man had a flush. Too alluring to resist perhaps. The other player had a fair amount of chips left after matching his bet, but the mixed race Rasta was mostly tapped out.

"Well played," the man chuckled, slapping his back as he stood, a little harshly, but bearable. His hand went inside his jacket and pulled out a card, a bit longer than a business card. "If you're around tomorrow, there's a wrestling match with my boy," he gestured to his t shirt, "and some kid north of the border. Show them this at the gate and you and your girlfriend get in free."

"Thanks, but...Thanks. I thought it was El Santo."

"Grandson," the man smirked and walked away.

The last friendly face, Nigel thought about leaving too, but figured it would be uncouth to win big and run, so he had the table play Texas Hold'Em again, folding fairly soon, and another game of five card draw followed, in which he bet and lost, before figuring it was couth.

"Want to check out the dancing?" he asked Marcy.

"I know you do," she giggled. "Sure."

Cashing in his chips for an even bigger wad of cash, he followed Marcy through the doors that led to stairs or elevator. They chose stairs, and the thudding bass from the strip joint kept getting louder and more defined as some licentious song before another set of double doors brought them inside the club.

They ended up entering next to the largest stage. Two smaller stages near the front and back walls. All three occupied by grinding, cunt displaying, pole gripping naked women. A large space, nearly full. Chairs lined the stages or circled small round tables. A couple larger ones had a rowdy younger set and a serious older group. Waitresses in slinky outfits served the customers. Ladies in even less clothing sat on laps or close in on chairs or wandered around looking. Nigel bought Marcy a tequila sour and himself a Dos Equis and they found themselves a table near the center of the club.

"Let me see if I can find Reggie," Nigel shouted. The music was loud.

Marcy nodded.

Eventually Nigel found his brother in a dark corner of the dark space. A different woman on his lap. A slim, overly endowed mixed race woman. Oriental and black. Exotically beautiful.

"Join us?" Nigel asked.

"Okay," Reggie grinned drunkenly and tossed down some clear liquid. "Thanks, babe," he said to the woman. "Maybe later. Unless you're interested brother?"

"Maybe later," Nigel shrugged.

Slightly disappointed, the woman stood and walked off.

"Ran out of money," Reggie told Nigel as he not quite stumbled beside him.

NIgel reached into his pocket and pulled out his wad of cash, handing his brother a quarter of it.

"Thanks."

"You want to go after her?"

"I'll wait."

As soon as they sat with Marcy, a waitress appeared. "Mescal straight up," said Reggie.

"You sure you want that?" Nigel asked.

"You're right. Wait. I'll have what he's having."

The waitress nodded.

Nigel chuckled. "You're heeding my advice?"

"The beer looked good," his brother smirked.

Nigel scanned the dancers on the stages, honing in on the main stage. The petite brunette he'd seen with Reggie. Her dance smooth, erotic and athletic. As good as he'd ever seen.

"Go," said his brother. "Ask her for the private room."

Nigel looked at Marcy who shrugged. "Have fun," she said.

"She likes girls too," said Reggie.

"What the hell," Marcy giggled.

They took two chairs on the edge of the stage. Only a couple other men were there. Small tits, Nigel figured. He couldn't see why otherwise men didn't flock to her. He handed Marcy some bills. "Watch," he said when he saw she was uncertain what to do. He put down a large bill on the stage. The woman smiled and approached him. Soon tits were against his face. Her head lowered and kissed his bulge. Then she showed him her pussy before claiming the generous offering. Marcy already had the same denomination down in front of her. The girl moved over to her with a wide grin. More of the same, except closer and adding kisses.

"Private room?" Nigel whispered during the kiss.

Rose nodded at him and smiled. Her hand squeezed Marcy's tit and she giggled.

They waited for her to finish her dancing and to go back stage, giving them a hand sign to wait for her before disappearing.

She reappeared several minutes later, dressed in what she'd been wearing before. The sweat they'd seen on her gone. "Shower," Nigel thought.

"Come," she said, taking Marcy's hand.

They followed her through a curtain on the other side of the large stage from where they entered. Along one side was a very long sofa style seat where lap dances were happening. Lap dances happened also in the main room. "They can touch," the girl said. She led them to a man behind a small desk who collected a rather exorbitant fee for a half hour. Stairs behind them led upstairs to booths with curtains. "VIP" said the girl. She led them past those to a hall of doors, opening the first.

It had a bed of course, and a sink and a chair. It reminded Nigel of the red light district in Amsterdam when he visited Reggie. The girl kissed Marcy. "I just want to watch," Marcy said, sitting on the chair.

The girl pouted. Then sat on the bed and pulled Nigel in front of her, unbuckling him.

"Uhm, maybe I should clean up?" he said.

The girl proved not all that fluent in English, so Nigel gestured to the basin and his crotch. She giggled and stood. "Come," she said and guided him in front of the sink. He got the message and removed his shoes, pants and underpants. "Is good," she grinned, taking hold of his cock. Wetting it. Soaping it. Rinsing and drying. Then pulling him by it to return to the original spot. Her sitting on the bed. Him standing over her.

It was the best blow job he ever had. Sometimes aggressive. Sometimes tender. He finally pushed her away. "I wish to suck you," he said.

She grinned and removed her clothes. Cleanly shaved. She patted the bed. She straddled his face and returned to sucking him. "Just me," he said, pulling out from under her and shifting her onto her back.

"Condom?" she squeaked, a little worried.

"Later. I promise," he smiled and bent his head down between her thighs.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

He loved making her slim, petite athletic body writhe beneath his tongue. A hint of soap didn't bother him. It revealed she'd cleaned it. And the lack of stubble on her shaved mons revealed she'd been prepared. The taste became all hers soon enough. Richly musky. He worked until she came. Marcy, who had made her tits and pussy available to masturbate, ended up helping. Leaning over and sucking Rose's nipples.

Rose managed to reach back behind her to a bowl of condoms and had one out and open and placed it in her mouth. Rolling it on orally, kneeling in front of a kneeling Nigel. She urged him onto his back and lowered herself carefully onto his cock. For a prostitute/dancer, she was remarkably tight. And Nigel's long cock nudged her cervix with an inch to spare. He understood her wishing to take the dominant position.

Her sexual skills continued when she rode him. Angles and Kegels. Marcy moaned, watching. But the girl had Nigel's attention. Her performance took his breath away. He lasted only because of recent activities. Her fake orgasm was near perfect. But he wanted to hold back for the real thing. If he could. Wetting his fingers, he stroked her clit. His other hand worked her rigid, lengthy nipples. And her ride became more chaotic. Less controlled. Faster. Her real orgasm was much quieter than her fake one. The trembling of her body and inside her, and the juices he felt on his balls when they stopped moving and his orgasm finally overwhelmed him, revealed the truth of this orgasm for her. His was just as intense. And when she leaned forward, Nigel having to bend his knees and curve his back to keep inside her, and she kissed him for the first time, it was a kiss of thanks and appreciation.

"You're welcome," he said after.

She giggled adorably.

The half hour was up.

Everyone, including Marcy, had a post orgasm blush.

"Shit," said Nigel when he put on his pants.

"What?" Marcy asked.

"Keys."

They looked around, but the room was small and they soon realized they weren't there.

"I could swear I felt a breeze when you were fucking me before," Marcy said.

"Why wouldn't I notice?" Nigel asked.

Marcy shrugged.

He hurried past the booths. "Don't wait for me," Marcy exclaimed.

"Thanks," Nigel said and rushed faster.

He fast walked through the strip club and past the doors and up the stairs and through the doors and to the door that led him to Celia's office. One of the thuggish watchers stood in front of him.

"Let him by," Celia said in Spanish.

He walked past her through the door she held open. Looking around, he asked, "Where is she?"

"Errands," said Celia.

"With my car?"

Celia laughed. "Come look." She led him to the window that looked down on the parking lot. His car was there. He let out a sigh.

"Why?" he asked.

"Consuela wished for you not to leave without her."

He went to the little bar and poured himself some fancy tequila. "Pour me one too," said Celia, which he did. And sat in front of her desk.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"You do not want to know."

"Right."

"Believe me. Knowing is dangerous."

"And what she's doing?"

Celia shrugged.

"What can you tell me?"

"I do not own this club. My husband was partner. When he died..."

"Died?"

"He was murdered. His partners did not wish a woman...so they keep me in charge."

"Of the club."

"Of the clubs," she nodded towards the window. "Pay me very well. Not so I care. But I help my nephews."

"No children?"

"No. Bad uterus."

"Sorry."

"I keep my girlish figure," she laughed.

"Nephews as in..."

"Yes. The Contessa's father. He is an arrogant fool, and not so good a businessman as he thinks. So I encourage his customers. Help his mistress."

"Not so righteous then."

"No. Handsome man," she shrugged. "What do you expect? I make sure the rent is not so much. Of course he does not know these things."

"And the Contessa?"

"She will inherit much."

"This?"

"No. She is too reckless, yes?"

"Perhaps she will mature."

"No. She must remain in the States."

"You protect her."

"Yes."

"This club," he gestured towards the window behind her.

"Very important," she smiled.

"Blackmail?"

She shrugged.

The phone rang. She paled. She wrote down information and hung up.

"This is directions," she said, handing him a large post it, somehow pulling herself together. She opened the cash drawer. Pulled out a money bag and filled it. "Here," and handed it to Nigel.

"What?" Nigel exclaimed.

"You are neutral not threatening gringos, yes? You go to this house. Nice house in nice neighborhood. You give them this money. All of you go to door. They wish no surprises. It will be safe."

"But not for her?"

"No. You must be quick."

"Is this about what Connie brought you?"

"Yes. Go." She handed him his keys.

He hurried to the strip club. Unfortunately only Marcy was there. "Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Upstairs."

"Shit. Wait here." He handed her the bag of cash.

He found Rose, the girl he just fucked sitting on a gringo's lap. "Please, could you come with me?"

She sensed his urgency.

He paid to take her upstairs. "Reggie," he yelled. "We have to go! The Contessa is in trouble."

He waited. Figured Reggie needed to dress. A minute, which seemed longer, Reggie emerged, the mixed black/Asian poking her head out behind him. "What the fuck?" Reggie asked.

"Trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then hurry."

Marcy was already waiting for them. She followed them out the back entrance, opened by another hombre with a nod. The hombre guarding the lot approached them. Offered them pistols.

"Uhm, no thanks," Nigel swallowed.

"Here," he handed Reggie the post it. "Directions."

Reggie nodded and recited them as they drove.

Celia was right. It was a nice upper middle class neighborhood. Except Nigel noticed a couple men walking around carrying rifles.

He parked at the address. "Everyone follow me," he said.

"Really?" Marcy squeaked.

"Please."

He rang the door. And couldn't help laughing at the man wearing a wrestling mask. And a leather jacket and a Santo look a like t shirt. "I guess that's why we didn't exchange names," Nigel said.