tagNovels and NovellasCrapshoot Ch. 01

Crapshoot Ch. 01

byArt Martin©

Nick scanned across the lobby, sizing up the guests as they came and went from the elevators to the casino floor. The unctuous smile, ever present, concealed the contempt he held for the suckers that filled the casino in hopes of a quick buck. It was simple, the odds favored the house, not greatly, just slightly, just enough that if you played long enough, the casino would eventually win everything you put at risk. It was a mathematical certainty, and therefore if you played, you were a sucker.

The suckers all generally fell into four categories.

First, there were the couples that were there on a lark, risking and losing a few hundred bucks and calling it entertainment. They were never a problem and were the lifeblood of the casino.

Second, there were the loners, guys mostly who were convinced that they could beat the house and willing to lose a few thousand for the trill of the game. They too were generally never a problem. Willing sheep. A small percentage lost more than could really afford trying to get back to even, then they might become obnoxious or possibly combative requiring to be physically ejected.

Third, there were the penny ante players, quarter slots were their game, but they did help fill the hotel, buy a ticket to the show, and maybe buy dinner. These were mostly grandmas and housewives, accompanied by husbands who understood the odds and were loath to throw away hard earned money. The casino never made any real money on these players, but grudgingly tolerated them for public relations.

Fourth, there were the losers. He could see it in their eyes, the desperation, the fear. He could smell the fear. They bore watching. It was bad for business for a guest to fling himself/herself off a balcony. Like everybody else, the casino was going to take their money too. They just bore watching.

“Mr. Clametti?”

Nick turned towards the desk clerk.

“Mr. Clametti, sir, we have a problem.”

Nick looked at the desk clerk’s computer monitor and frowned. He looked over at the couple standing nervously at the front desk. He was tall, maybe six feet, and a little overweight. He had that desperate look in his eyes. She was shorter, maybe five foot six, cute with a nice body. She radiated fear.

Nick looked her over. ‘Not bad,’ he thought. Nick glanced back down at the monitor, American Express had declined the loser’s card. That meant one of two things; either the card was stolen, or he didn’t pay his bills.

Nick approached the desk. Looking him straight in the eye Nick requested, “May I see some identification Mr. Marsh?”

John Marsh glanced at his feet and then stammered, “Is there a problem?”

“No, sir, I just need to verify who you are.”

“Of course.” John fumbled around and pulled out his wallet. He dug out his driver’s license and handed it to Nick.

Nick noted the thick stack of bills in the wallet as he took the license from John. Comparing the names, Nick concluded that the card was not stolen; it was just that this loser was a dead beat. Nick looked back to the attractive young woman and smiled broadly. “Is this your wife?”

“Yes. Do you need to see her ID?” John answered irritably.

“No, that’s not necessary. It’s just that she’s very pretty.”

Judy Marsh blushed at the compliment. She was pretty and she knew it, she just wasn’t accustomed to flattering comments from strange men.

Nick noted the hostile look from her husband as he handed back the license and credit card.

“Will you be staying long?” asked Nick nonchalantly.

“Two, maybe three days.”

“I see. Well, you two have a grand time. If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.” Nick scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed the note to the desk clerk. “Kelly, please take care of Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.”

“Uh, yes sir,” answered the somewhat surprised desk clerk.

Nick moved away from the desk. Picking up a house phone, he called security.

“Bruce, Security,” answered the other end.

“Bruce, Nick. See these two losers at the front desk?”

Bruce switched his monitor to the camera screening the front desk. “Yeah, got’em.”

“That’s Mr. and Mrs. John Marsh. He’s a deadbeat loser. Watch him. I want to know as soon as he’s busted.”

“Sure Boss. She’s a doll.”

“Watch them.”


Nick hung up, then turned to watch the Marshes get onto the elevator. “Nice butt,” he muttered to himself.

Kelly the desk clerk, looked at him questioningly. “Sir?”

Nick smiled and reassured her, “It’s alright Kelly. Don’t worry about it.” He paused a moment before asking, “Which room did you put them in?”

“The room you wrote down on the paper, Room 642.”

“Good. Thank you Kelly.” Nick stepped back from the front desk and returned to watching the suckers come and go. After a few minutes, Kelly noticed that the boss was no longer there.


John sat on the California king bed, rubbing his temples, the ever-present knot in his stomach contributing to misery of a headache. The agony he was in tore at Judy’s heart. Three months ago, he was on top of the world, an up and coming corporate tiger, a young man on the move. His rapid rise up the corporate ladder was only matched by the meteoric demise of the company he worked for.

First there were rumors of accounting anomalies. The next day the value of the company’s stock values vaporized to nothingness, taking with it the livelihoods and lifelong savings of thousands of loyal employees. It took weeks before the magnitude of the disaster sunk in.

As always, John tried to take the situation in stride, but there were no offers forthcoming from the flood of resumes he had prepared and sent out. As the weeks wore on, people he dealt with on a regular basis no longer would return his calls. He discovered that he was tainted, washed with an indelible patina of corporate corruption and malfeasance.

Soon the cash reserves of his checking account dwindled to a paltry sum, forcing him to forego payments of any sort to anyone, just so that they had enough money for groceries and utilities. It was a crushing blow to his ego to have his Lexus repossessed right out of his driveway while all the neighbors watched with wagging tongues.

Creditors and the collection agencies began calling at all hours, to the point that they dreaded answering the telephone. Still the resumes went unanswered. John’s future seemed to have melted away. Even if he could get a job and began paying off his creditors, his credit rating would be damaged for years to come. With a damaged credit rating, his ability to land a high paying job became increasing difficult, after all, who would hire someone to help manage the financial affairs of their company if John couldn’t even manage his own financial affairs? If was vicious circle, a vortex actually; like a penny in a gravity well, accelerating in ever smaller rotations until the thing disappeared from the universe.

He was about to go down the financial gravity well and he knew it. Then after a few warning calls, the postman delivered a certified letter from his mortgage company, warning of the imminent foreclosure on their home. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Now they sat in a room at the Lucky Dawg Casino, their last thousand bucks in his wallet.

“Honey, lets just go home,” she said pleadingly.

“We’ve been over this. If I don’t come up with the money for at least one payment by Wednesday, they will foreclose. Now we can either go home and let it happen, or I can shoot craps and win enough to keep the wolves away for a few more weeks. A few weeks are all I need. Eric Thompson said he had something for me, but it would be a few weeks before the opening is available.

“Honey, he’s been telling you that for months now.”

“Not really. This time he’s certain something will come up. You know, a headhunter can’t force someone to hire you, what they’re good at is finding a good match. We don’t have a choice but gamble with what we have. If I lose, we really won’t be any worse off than if I didn’t try anything. This way I have a chance of making enough to hang on a while longer.”

“I don’t know honey. It seems so…so desperate.”

“We are desperate! We are about to hit bottom and go right through the floor. I know how to shoot craps. I have a system that’s worked very well in the past. Remember the last time we were here with the Dolton’s? I won, didn’t I?”

“You could afford to play then, now…”

John angrily cut her off, “I can’t afford not to play! Now drop it!” He abruptly stood up, pulling away from Judy, storming out the door to the casino floor.


Judy sat on the bed crying for ten minutes. When the tears began to dry, she decided that she would feel a lot better if took a long, hot soak in the Jacuzzi.

“Yeah baby, take it off!” exclaimed Mickey as he watched the security monitor.

The other three security personnel quickly gathered around the monitor surveying Room 642.

“Gawd damn!” added Hank as Judy dropped her D cup bra to the floor. “Lookit dem titties!”

The four guards leered and cheered as she pulled her panties down. “Oh, gawd damn,” leered Hank, “she shaves her pussy! Oh baby, you give me a hard-on!”

“Turn around sweetheart,” urged Lonnie. As if she heard him she slowly pirouetted, as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. “Oh sweet Jesus, look at her ass! Oh, man would I love to stick my face between those buns!”

“She’s a knockout alright,” added Bruce who rarely said anything at all. “Man wouldn’t you like a toss with that?”

“You bet, I could fuck that one all night long!” answered Mickey to the laughter of his coworkers.

The four men watched as she walked unsuspectingly towards the bath. Mickey flipped a switch bringing up a view of the bath. Moments later, she strode into view.

“Okay guys, back to work!” The four guards turned with a start at the gruff voice of Nick and scurried back to their posts. “I only need one man to watch the cunt! Lonnie, what’s her old man up to?”

“He just made it to the craps table. Hasn’t started playing yet.”

“Okay guys, we’re a little short handed here, so keep a sharp eye out Bruce. That goes double for you Hank.”

“Yes sir!” answered Hank as he returned to the task of monitoring the Blackjack tables for card counters or anyone using a computer to place their bets.

An electronic beeping sound filled the room. Nick looked up at the status board. “Table twelve!” barked Nick.

Bruce switched to table twelve. Bruce and Nick watched as the dealer glanced up while dealing the cards, subtly signaling which player needed scrutiny. The casino didn’t mind someone winning, but it hated anyone who had a method of shifting the odds against the casino. Scrutiny fell on a young fellow who had the temerity to win just a little too often.

Mickey zoomed in on Judy’s delectable ass. The resolution of the new little cameras was remarkable. “Oh yeah baby, bend over!” he hooted as she leaned forward to draw her bath. “You know what? This broad don’t have any tan lines! She must sunbathe naked! Bet she fucks the pool guy when her old man’s not around.”

“Cool it, Mickey,” growled Nick. “We got a potential problem here!” Nick turned his attention to table twelve as the young guy won yet another hand.

Mickey watched in silence as the young woman prepared her bath unaware of the intruding electronic eye, following her every movement, recording her for posterity and possible profit, feasting on the sumptuousness of her nude body.

“She’s taking a leak,” observed Mickey to no one in particular. “Man, I’d wallow in her piss just to lick her clean.”

“Mickey, pick up on her old man,” ordered Nick. “Let’s see how the dumb fuck’s doing.”

Mickey reluctantly switched to the craps table where John was making modest gains. “He ain’t busted yet. Looks like he’s doing okay. He’ll be here for a while.”


John certainly felt he was doing okay, as he had nearly doubled his money over the past thirty minutes or so of play. Mickey switched back to watch John’s wife.

Judy still sat while the bath filled with hot water, contemplating the plight that she and her husband were in. It just wasn’t fair, she thought, none of the mess was John’s fault, but stench of the scandal seemed to cling to him. She was worried mainly about John himself. His normally confident self was seemingly disintegrating from the pressure. He was becoming sullen, irritable, and increasing despondent. She feared that he was becoming depressed and quite possibly suicidal. She thought back on happier days, of the dumpy apartment they shared as students at State U, of their wedding day and honeymoon in St. Thomas, of John’s incredible advancement with the company. It was hard to believe that they only met a mere five years ago.

She laughed to herself at the absurd manner in which they met, when she literally ran over him with her bicycle at the Quadrangle. There he was sprawled out in his jogging shorts, all hot and sweaty, seemingly unconscious. Kneeling to render aid, he grabbed her and pulled her down onto him driving his tongue deep into her mouth. She screamed and pulled back, only then did he realize that she wasn’t who he thought she was. He had thought that it was Sara, an easy girl who hung out at his frat house, screwing anybody who needed or wanted to wet his dipstick.

Gathering up a wad of toilet tissue, Judy wiped herself, then stood, flushed the toilet and entered the bath. Soon the swirling waters had soothed her, releasing the tensions that had built to near the breaking point over the past several weeks.

As she relaxed, she reflected that she only had one regret regarding John; they were childless. They had been trying to conceive a child for over two years. It was only a week before the company collapsed that they knew the reason why, his sperm count was low. The doctor didn’t know why he had a low sperm count, just the fact that he did. The doctor counseled patience, as it only took one sperm to fertilize an egg. If after another year, timing intercourse with her most fertile moments, and she wasn’t pregnant, only then would the doctor consider a more radical approach like in-vitro fertilization. She ruefully realized that now was her most fertile time, but John wasn’t interested in sex and conception. His erstwhile robust sexual appetite had dwindled along with his financial condition.

“Hey Nick, come see! She’s playing with her nipples.”

Nick turned away for a moment from scrutinizing the kid winning every hand in Black Jack and glowered at Mickey’s back.

“She’s one hot little cunt!”

“Mickey! Shut the fuck up!”

Mickey hunched his shoulders and grimaced. “The boss is in a really in a foul mood,” he whispered to himself. Normally Nick took great pleasure from eavesdropping on a naked cunt. Mickey resigned himself to watching the hot-ass broad in comparative silence. Not that he minded.

Judy closed her eyes as she gently swirled her fingers around her hard nipples. Her nips were especially sensitive and if simulated just right, she could bring herself off. John knew how to bring her off like that, but it had been months since he even touched her for anything other than a quick, hard fuck to relieve his mounting tension. She pretended that John was with her, that it was he who was driving her building passion. She didn’t know how long she had been feeling herself up, only that she was getting ever closer to the unique sexual release of a nipple-driven orgasm.

“Holy fuck! She’s gonna pull her titties off!” Mickey exclaimed to no one in particular as she twisted and stretched her long nips to a seemingly impossible length, blending in a measure of pain to trigger the pleasure she craved. Mickey turned up the volume slightly just as she began a mournful wail of blissful agony.

Nick lost interest for the moment in table twelve and leaned over Mickey’s shoulder to watch as Judy jerked about, splashing water over the edge of the bath, consumed with the self-inflicted pain/pleasure. Nick hissed, “She needs some dick, eh Mick?”

“Love to oblige her, Boss.”

Judy sank down into the swirling bath and slowly opened her eyes. As good as it had felt, her autoerotic play hadn’t sated her need, it merely intensified her yearnings for a good fuck. A fucking she knew she wouldn’t receive. Holding on to the tub sides with her hands, she slid forward, hiking her right leg out of the water and over the edge of the tub while folding her left leg under her buttocks. It took a minute to get properly positioned but she was soon rewarded with a stream of bubbles and jetting water pounding directly on her clit at the nexus of her labia.

“Take a look at this, Boss.”

“Not now damn it!”

“You’re going to miss it Nick,” Mickey taunted.

Nick looked at Mickey’s monitor and watched as Judy arched her back, bending her head back until it almost touched the surface of the water. Her jaw became slack, her mouth forming a rictus as her breathing became harder and harder. She seemingly looked straight at the hidden camera and began to moan, her body quaking in the water. “Damn,” muttered Nick at the salacious display.

“Yeah baby, put on a show for all the folks,” added Mickey with a laugh.

Once the intense orgasm passed, Judy pushed herself back fully into the tub to enjoy the orgasmic afterglow. Lazily she washed her tits and shoulders. Suddenly she rose and stepped out of the whirlpool. Water running in rivulets down her shapely body glistened and gleamed on her near perfect skin. She stood dripping for a moment, then she stepped out onto the tiled floor.

With an oversized fluffy towel, Judy began drying her skin, all the while studying her image in the mirror. She turned, back and forth, so that she could see all of herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw, a beautiful, sensuous and desirable woman, ready and eager to fulfill billions of years of evolution and biological function to bear children. She was at her peak moment for the month. She knew that the intense horniness she felt was due in part to the slight rise in body temperature that she had been charting for nearly a year now. She always got intensely horny when her heat went up and she was ovulating.

Frowning, she thought of John, downstairs, gambling when he should be with her, impregnating her. She yearned for the feel of his tongue on her breasts, getting her so hot that she nearly always went insane with unbridled lust and passion. She yearned for the feel of his wet tongue sliding down her belly and then up between her sopping labia. She yearned for the feel of his cock inside of her, filling her up, and making her feel whole. But most of all, she yearned for the feel of his glans, pressed up against her cervix, the shaft throbbing in her pussy, shooting semen directly into her fertile womb.

She brought her hand up from her burning cunt and licked the tangy juices from her fingers. Then she strolled into the room, lay on the bed and began pleasuring herself.

“Man, oh man! This chick is a hot one! That’s it baby, spread’em for the camera!”

Circling her clit with her thumb, she plunged two fingers up her needy fuck hole, stroking her sweet spot as well as the walls of her burning vagina. With her other hand, she kneaded her voluptous bosoms. Lewdly she spread her legs wider, hiking her knees into the air as she squirmed around on the bed. As she got close to her climax, she began to pull on her nipples again.

She quaked and shuddered as her orgasm tore through her like a tornado. She inhaled sharply and twisted madly on the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure swept over her. Finally as the orgasm began to recede, Judy curled up into a fetal position, her wet hand trapped between her clutching thighs, gasping for breath. She lay nearly still for several minutes before she began to uncoil as she rolled onto her stomach.

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byArt Martin© 0 comments/ 47793 views/ 7 favorites

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