Flesh Tone Flamingo

I first saw her at the Flamingo. She was walking through the snaking casino floor on her way to the rideshare pickup. She was simply dressed. A loose sheer white shirt with drawstrings that hung undone draped over her skinny frame. Under that, you could see a white bralette over her modest breasts. White shorts of comfy yet fashionable cotton settled low on her hips, clinging to her like a wisp of morning fog on a thicket. She had white keds on her feet, which seemed large, but not clumsy.

Big dark sunglasses and a flopping straw hat obscured much of her face, but her prominent features still peeked out. She had a long, straight nose. Cheekbones, which were shaped by the hands of a master potter, carved a contour down toward a soft, square jaw. She walked with a purpose. Not quite in a hurry, but she had somewhere to be.

She didn't turn her head to look at anyone or anything, except the ground, and the exit she was headed toward. This was unusual behavior in Las Vegas. People usually looked around at the bright videoslots, turned to look at the craps winner jumping in celebration, or peered over their shoulder to make sure no one was following them. This narrowed down the possibilities. She had a mission and knew her way around. That meant she was probably working. She wasn't a casino worker-- she seemed to come from the direction of the guest elevators. She wasn't a traveling call girl-- she would probably be sleeping or relaxing at the pool at this hour-- it was early afternoon.

Nobody was paying her much attention as she used her lithe bodyweight to open the tinted glass door, letting in a blinding pang of daylight into the smoky casino. There were plenty of hot girls in Vegas, but I she caught my eye. I spun my bar stool all the way around and leaned back on the bar. I watched her to the maximum.

"See something you like?" Oscar, my colleague, said to me from two stools down. He was craning his neck around to try to see what I was staring at, but she was already a silhouette against the Vegas sun.

"A model," I said.

"If you say so," he said.

"She is, I'm sure."

"What time is your flight?" Oscar knew I was set to fly back home tonight.

We had both been sent to a grueling three day conference in Vegas. We went to classes and panels during the morning, ate and networked in the afternoon, drank and networked at night. We had developed pet gambling habits in the early morning hours, but we would leave that behind and return to life as usual when we flew home, him to Chicago, and me to San Francisco, tonight.

"I don't know," I said, watching the blurry shape of the model get into a white sedan. "I might just stay tonight."

"You're not gonna win back your money, you know," said Oscar.

"I might try my luck at something else," I said. "Once I ditch the married man."

Oscar laughed. "Well, I might as well just leave you to it then." He put another drink for me on his tab and closed it out. We shook hands.

"Safe flight," I said.

"Uh huh," he said, and made his way to the bag check outside the front of the casino.

I sat and thought about the mysterious girl. I thought about how I would find her again. How long would a model work for? When would she be back? Well, it was 1 pm now. She'd need to get there, get makeup done, get styled, photographed, and assuming it's an indoor shoot... it could be 4-5 hours. If it was outdoor they would shoot through sunset, to get the good lighting toward the end of the day.

I called my airline. They said I couldn't change my flight to tomorrow for free. I couldn't charge the change to the company. So, I thought, screw it. I'll simply miss my flight and worry about the rest later. I had worked hard all weekend, put fun-- real fun-- and women out of mind so I could do what I came here to do, even though I was surrounded by pool parties, night clubs, strip joints, bachelorette parties and summer breakers the whole time. Now, it was all hitting me, and all this stimuli was just titillation. I had my mind on one thing, this beautiful model.

I figured I had two hours to spend before I would have to resume my lookout for this vision of a girl. I went to a restaurant connected to the hotel, went up to my room, and jacked off while thinking of her. After that, my mind was clear. I showered, got dressed, and went downstairs to the slots by the main entrance. She would be coming back through those doors.

I envisioned it in my mind. Over and over I envisioned her coming past me. Me making my move. I spent so long envisioning, that when I turned my full attention to look at my slot machine, I saw the waitress had brought me five drinks in the meantime, and I had drained them all. That must mean I had been losing badly

So I was drunk, evidently losing, and I hadn't seen the outdoors all day. I realized I wasn't about to make a good impression. I had to take the state I was in and use it to my advantage. Turn it around. I'd play the craps table near the walkway, and when she passed, I'd draw her in.

------

She came in the front entrance, just as I thought she would. She looked mostly the same as before, but her hair was wet. For the first time, she took off her sunglasses and I saw her full beauty. The dealer tapped my arm because I was leaning on the table. I was leaning on the table because I was practically salivating over this little angel that just walked in. Now that it was early evening and people were feeling loose, she was catching a lot of eyes and a few compliments. To a few, she beamed a sparkling smile, to others she retorted, to others, she said nothing. To be scorned such was the ultimate defeat. For a moment I doubted I had a shot, but then my time came up to roll the dice.

As she approached, I stepped back into the walkway. I had thought about this all day. Was I just going to give her the standard line "blow for good luck?" It suddenly seemed too corny and crude. She's already been chirped at by many people on her way through the lobby. I just said what struck me at the moment.

"What is that beautiful fragrance?"

She wrinkled her eyebrows at me. "What?" she asked.

I smiled, "Sorry, I just... I could tell you were coming from all the way across the floor. Everything here is smoke and booze. You smell amazing. What perfume are you wearing? Marc Jacobs? Dior?"

"Nothing, actually," she said, looking to the ground sort of embarrassed. But she didn't walk away.

"Well miss No-Perfume, I'll leave you to it. It's my roll anyway..." I sort of bowed to leave her on her way. She took one step and I said, "unless you want to give it a shot?" I presented her with the sharp red casino dice.

"I've done it before..." she said.

"Even better."

"It's your money."

"My money, your roll. Sounds good to me."

"And what do I get if I make you rich?" she asked.

"Whatever you want."

She took the dice out of my hand. They called for bets, and she tossed them sort of overhand against the back bank.

Hard four. Someone at the table cheered, he just won a hundred bucks. He was a lightweight bettor and he took his chips. He patted her on the shoulder and said, "lucky enough for me!" She was hooked. She rolled for a few more. I asked her her name.

"Santanne," she said with enthusiasm and tossed the dice again.

"Thanks for playing. I was getting bored just gambling my money away. I'm Neil."

"Why are you here alone? People like that in Vegas give me the creeps." She said, sort of joking.

"My flight, um... got canceled. Trying to rebook."

She perked up a little bit. It was a normal answer. "Was that the one to Chicago this afternoon? My friend was on that one. She's on standby at the airport."

"Yeah," I replied quickly, not wanting to say anything she might think was bullshit.

Just as I said that, I saw Oscar come into the lobby. He already had a drink in hand. I started turning red. I was hoping he wouldn't say anything. If he blew my story, my whole chance with Santanne might be done.

He came over to the craps table and bellowed out. "O'Hare is fucked, I won't be out of here tonight."

"I know! It's too bad our flight was canceled, yeah?" I made it obvious to Oscar I was caught up with my new friend.

"Right..." he said, thinking of his next line carefully. "Good thing you called ahead, so you didn't have to go to the airport." He nodded strangely at Santanne, and she returned a sort of questioning nod. Oscar walked on.

She kept rolling. "If this winning keeps up, I'll get bored."

I leaned in next to her. She really did smell amazing, like real flowers, like her own feminine body odor, and just a bit like chlorine. "What if we put down a really stupid bet and see what happens. We'll see if your hype is real."

"Oh, I'm real," she smirked.

I put all of our winnings, three hundred dollars, on hard four. If she loses, we break even. If she wins, we get seven times. She rolled three more times, and then it came up seven. Loss.

We walked away from the table. Santanne said sorry, but sort of teasing. She didn't really care. It wasn't her money and she'd been to Vegas before. She knew well this is just what happens. She just didn't want me to be upset about it. And I wasn't. Sure, 2,100 dollars would be a nice prize, but I got twenty minutes of Santanne's attention. Not bad.

"So this is fun in Vegas huh?" I joked.

"I guess so!" she said, shrugging.

"So you weren't at a pool party all day, with the wet hair and everything?"

"Oh, no, but I was in the pool, for work."

"Lifeguard? Personal trainer?"

"I'm not local..." she said, gesturing at the hotel.

"Right, of course! Model."

"Yep, it was a pool shoot."

"Fun?"

"Not really, just work. It wasn't bad though."

"So what is fun for you then?" I asked, as we sat down at some slots.

A casino worker dropped off a vodka soda for her and a jack and coke for me. These were consolation prizes for leaving $300 on the table. The hotel knew my drink from being here all day. I'm sure they knew Santanne's because she was the most attractive person here. They never forget the order of someone who looks like her. The cocktail waitress placed my drink on the machine in front of me. I paid it no notice. I put a five dollar chip on the tray. Santanne gracefully lifted the drink directly from the tray to her mouth, and wrapped her soft lips around the tiny black straws. For the first time since I'd met her, she gave me the spark of something more than an intoxicating crush. Looking at her pursed lips made me start to swell with dirty thoughts.

Apparently she was thinking about my question this whole time. "Well, since I just got off work, the fun is just starting. I'm saving my energy for a concert tomorrow. I'm going with some friends."

"Fun," I said. "Who are you seeing?"

"Diplo, it's more like a rave I guess."

"I used to go to those."

"Really? Well it's my first. I'm just going to relax tomorrow until the show. It doesn't start until 11."

"Maybe before the show we could grab lunch or a drink?"

"Yeah," she said, getting up, "if I see you around and you haven't gotten a new flight or anything." She put down a half-finished drink. " Nice to meet you, Neil." She picked up her hat and headed to the elevator. Though difficult, I tore my eyes away from Santanne. I didn't want her to see me staring if she looked back.

------

I didn't book a flight. The next morning I got up and had breakfast with Oscar. It was a real greasy spoon sort of place. We had bloody marys and chatted. I told him everything with Santanne, the fib I was caught up in, etcetera. I explained I just didn't want to come off like a weirdo. It would be weird if someone missed their flight because they saw a cute girl in the lobby, but that's exactly what happened.

"Come clean, it's romantic," he said. "That's how my wife and I met. Not the exact same story, but sorta similar."

I wasn't so sure. I'd seen his wife, and she was no model. The romantic stuff might work on her.

Oscar got the late morning flight to Chicago, and I decided on my day. Diplo was sold out, so I bought a second hand ticket for twice the original price. It would have been nice to have that $300, I laughed to myself. The rest of the day I relaxed. I went to the gym, ate healthy and bought a sleek but casual outfit for the show. A blue graphic tee and black fitted jeans. I even bought new Adidas as a treat to myself. I read about a hundred pages of the new Pratchett novel. I set an alarm for 9pm and went to sleep at 7.

When I woke up, I got ready with plenty of time and I walked across the street to Caesar's. I got in line for Diplo. There was already music inside, just the house DJ. I didn't have a seat or a table or anything, so I got a stool at the bar. I could dance, but it was going to be a long night. I just chatted and kept an eye out for Santanne. Groups of bachelorette and bachelor parties, young adults and weekend clubbers came through the entrance and started filling in the tables and dance floor. I gave my seat to a girl who had on too much makeup and an overprotective boyfriend. She said thanks, he didn't.

Standing, I could see over the crowd to the entrance a little better. The rush was over and people were just trickling in. Then I noticed a group of heads moving along the side wall. They were young women, five of them, who had come in the VIP entrance. It took me a moment, but I recognized Santanne among them. She looked so casual. A white tank top, black ripped shorts. Her hair was up in a ponytail, with a frame of hair on the sides. She had a washed out black denim jacket on. I thought I could see glitter on her cheeks, and some deep red blush. All the girls had a similar look. They must have had fun getting ready for the concert, but Santanne, somehow, stood out.

They made their way to their table. It was on a terrace one row removed from the dance floor. I bought a bottle of champagne for their table.

"For Santanne, from Neil. She'll know," I told the bartender.

After it was delivered, I went over to the railing. They were all chatting and laughing among themselves. I know one of the girls heard me call Santanne's name, but she didn't tell her I was calling.

"Santanne!" I called again. She turned.

"Hey! Thanks for the campaign!" she called back, and lifted a glass. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for the fun!"

A blonde friend of hers, who was ugly by comparison only, shouted down to me. "Get out of here, this is a girls' night!" Santanne looked over to her and covered her mouth while she laughed.

"My mistake," I took it in stride. "I'll just catch the next plane out of here."

"Aww, not gunna stay for the show?" Santanne called down.

"Alright, fine, but then, I'm gone!" I pointed to the sky.

She laughed and turned to chat with her friends. She gave me a little wave and a glance before I walked away.

The show started, and I had a nice buzz going. I liked the lights and the bumping music, but I wanted more. A lot of people around me were grinding and holding each other, or just dancing like crazy in a group. Someone gestured to me to dance with her. She had a guy with her, but he didn't mind. They seemed open to just having fun, so I danced with her. She was a short little blonde who liked to lean back on me and touch my chest and legs while she danced. I touched her sweaty stomach and hips and grinded gently back. Nothing too naughty. Just some fun. I was rock hard though, and if the lighting wasn't so frenetic, I would be worried a dark spot would show through my pants.

A slow song started, and the girl broke away from me. She reached her arm out to give me a hug and then she and her guy friend went to the bar. A few moments later, I was going to head there myself. Finish the night there and think about my time with Santanne. A fun Vegas encounter, but I needed to go back home. I was already taking the next day off. What would the company think if I went to a Vegas conference on their dime and just stayed there? Not good.

As I turned to go to the bar, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Santanne. I could see her friends a few rows of people beyond. She didn't have her jacket with her, and so much of her beautiful skin was showing. Her long legs, her thin arms, her neck and her chest. Someone had given her candy bracelets and a candy necklace. She was wearing a bright green VIP wristband.

"Hey! It took us so long to push our way up here. I saw you were about to leave and was like, nooo!"

"No worries! The downside of being a VIP huh?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "It's no big deal, we had to pay for the tickets ourselves. It's my friend Miranda's birthday. She agreed to come celebrate it in Vegas since I was here for work, but this is her party, and a gift to her from all of us."

Miranda was a tall, attractive blonde. She carried a bit of weight, but she looked very friendly and fun. She was dressed a little more conservatively but had the same makeup on. Her cheeks had the numbers 2 and 5 in purple glitter.

The first blonde, who had told me to leave, looked over at me. It made me think maybe I wouldn't be joining Miranda's birthday party.

"I thought I might not see you again," I said. "I was just going to head to the bar for my last drink in Vegas."

Just then, a cocktail waitress came with a tray for all the girls. Miranda carefully passed Santanne's drink over some sweaty shoulders. She took it from her hand directly to her mouth. She took a long sultry sip and looked up at me with her beautiful brown eyes. They reflected all the lights in the house and all the glitter on her cheeks. She was out of an alien dream.

Miranda's hand reached over with another drink. "Nate? Nathan? This one's for you."

"Cheers!," I said. "Happy birthday, VIP!"

Miranda laughed, and the short blonde frowned. Santanne smiled. I drank most of the jack and coke in a couple drags and put it on the tray before the waitress left. My heart immediately started racing. The music was picking up now. I looked into Santanne's deep, dark eyes and put my hands on her shoulders. I took in the sensation of touching her perfect skin for the first time, then I let my hands slide down her narrow sides to her waist. She rested an arm on my shoulder and sipped her drink. Then she leaned her hips into mine and let me support her back while we rocked to the steady beat.

Before long, the music was climbing to a fast pace and blaring loudly. Santanne was bent over and backing her cute little butt onto me, moving it with a sharp, firm rhythm. I got glimpses of her in blue, green, and orange as the lights flashed. I couldn't really believe how I got here. I could picture myself, how I looked to her friends or any other stranger. Me, with beautiful Santanne, how ridiculous, yet here I was. I gripped onto her sides and grinded into her for a while. Then I pulled her completely upright so she could lean on me.

I felt under her shirt all the way up until I was just under her modest breasts. I felt her tiny stick-on bra just barely graze the top of my fingertip. Then I let my hands rub her belly back down until I was holding her waist again. We were both sweaty, and she still smelled incredible. I could almost be happy with just this, but as she reached her arms up to stretch while she dance, I gently took her candy bracelet into my mouth and bit one off. I could feel the chills that went down her body.

"Were those good chills?" I asked.

"Naughty," she said.

I leaned over to take one from her neck. She tilted her head to the side to expose her neck to me. I brought my open mouth to her necklace, and pulled it into my mouth with my tongue, teeth and lips. She let out a short utterance of pleasure and I felt her body become weak as she let her weight collapse into me for a moment. After she got her own strength back under her, she turned her head to the side and looked up at me, more dreamily than ever. I leaned over to kiss her. She reached back and held onto my neck with one hand, and with the other, she slyly reached down and groped me through my pants. Anyone who was looking for it could plainly see her touching me, but anyone else wouldn't notice.