Queen of Hearts


Robin closed her eyes, her narrow chest swelling as she filled her lungs. She gave me a brave look. "If you win, you can have me, Nick, all night. Any way you want, as much as you want. I won't say no, I won't have a headache. Anything you want, Nick. Anything."

I felt my libido stirring, making my cock swell in my slacks. "And you still get your five large," I said.

Robin nodded slowly. "Yes."

I snickered. "Sounds like you can't lose," I said.

She shrugged, then smiled in that confident way I had seen several times across the green felt of a poker table. "No, but you can."

I fell quiet, contemplating the eight-thousand-plus sitting in my wallet, how I had come to the casino with only five hundred. If I agreed to Robin's proposal, I would still head home with over six times as much as I had invested in the night . . . and, if I won, carnal knowledge of Robin. As a gambler, I could appreciate the intricacy of the bet. Five grand on the line, versus Robin's charms and complete submission.

I looked to Cobb for his input, saw the encouraging grin there. If nothing else, I knew, Cobb wanted the vicarious thrill of having been part of this deal, come what may.

I met Robin's eyes once more. "I'm a fairly kinky guy," I said.

She nodded. "I know," she said with a sly smile.

I laughed, downed my Scotch. "What the hell. You're on."


Both Cobb and I were pretty well 'in' with the casino owner, so it took only a simple request to get a private room. Robin and I faced one another across the small, felt-topped table as Cobb took the dealer's post. We did not use chips, nor cash. The stakes were clear.

"Five card stud," Cobb said, flipping the cards out fluidly. Robin and I stared at one another as we caught and gathered them up. Her bright green orbs glittered in the light of the room, fixated upon me.

"No bets, no raises," Cobb continued. "One round to exchange cards. It's put up, or, uh . . . put out."

I smirked slightly at his words, only briefly taking my eyes off Robin to check my hand. I had crap. Only the queen of diamonds to sit high, if it came to that.

Robin stared back. "Two cards," she said, sliding her discards across the table. Cobb cast two fresh ones to her, and she took them up, her eyes blazing fiercely at me. Her doll-pale cheeks glowed with rouge.

"Two," I said as well, and took up the new cards Cobb gave me. I tried not to grin as I settled the queen of hearts next to her sister. A high pair. Tough to beat.

For a long moment, Robin and I simply gazed into one another's eyes. I relished the thought that I had a chance to bed her, and not only that, but in any way I wished. As much as I wished. I could see myself as a happy, content, and thoroughly satisfied man come the morning.

"Call," I said, and set my queens upon the table.

Robin stared at my cards for a long moment, her lips slowly parting. She looked to her hand, breathed slowly in and out . . . then folded her cards down. She pushed back from the table and regarded me with an inscrutable expression.

"What room?" she asked me.

For a moment, I took pity upon her once more. "You don't—"

"What. Room." Her voice was firm, determined.

I sighed. "2112," I said.

She nodded, looking away. "Give me an hour," she said, then pushed up from the table and left the room.

I looked to Cobb. "You know, I'm not sure if I should be happy or not."

He shrugged, and reached across the table to gather up the cards. "She set the stakes, Nick. She was ready to accept them. It's the gambler's rule: you never play if you can't handle the loss."

I nodded. Sage advice, I thought. I stood. "Guess I'd better head back to my room, take a shower."

Cobb smiled. "Bed her well," he said.


It was a little before eleven that night when the knock came. I was clad in only the hotel robe, smoking a cigarette beside the open balcony door. The night air that wafted in was cool, but not cold. Far below, I could hear the traffic of the streets and the faint beat of club music.

I opened the door to find an absolute vision before me. Robin wore a loose, shimmering silk gown of deepest red, looking like a professional escort. She smelled sweetly of roses and sported fresh, if minimal, makeup. Her eyes glowed like beacons as she stared up at me. "Good evening, Mr. Sharpe," she said in a soft, breathy, sultry voice.

Whatever reservations I may have had regarding our tryst vanished instantly. I drank in the sight of my imminent lover, enjoying the contrast of the dark scarlet dress to her pure, pale skin. Arousal coursed through me, overriding all thoughts of reason or morality. I wanted Robin, and that was all that mattered.

I said nothing, just stepped aside and let her in. Robin slinked her way into the room, swaying her hips slightly. The dress she wore had practically no back; it plunged all the way down, just past the base of her spine, revealing the swell of her firm, round buttocks.

She turned her head slightly. "Got something to drink?"

I closed the door, stepped up behind her. I felt her shudder slightly as my hands touched her shoulders. I breathed in her scent for a moment, then stepped away. "Champagne, or liquor?"

She watched me with a small, nervous smile. "Champagne."

I nodded, took a split from the cooler and popped it open. I filled two glasses, brought one to her. We clinked, sipped. Her green eyes glowed.

"So . . . what would you like?" she asked.

I glanced to the broad balcony door. "Come on," I said, and took her free hand. Robin offered no protest as I lead her outside.

The gentle breeze washed over us. Robin stepped to the railing of the balcony, looking out over the city below. I sat upon one of the lounge chairs, watching her. Robin seemed to think for a moment, sipping her bubbly. Finally, she turned around to face me, and smiled.

"Open your robe," she said softly.

I set my glass aside. Keeping my gaze locked with hers, I untied the belt around my waist and separated the folds of terrycloth that kept me decent. My cock was already hard, laying upon my abdomen. I settled my feet to the ground on either side of the chair.

Robin's gaze softened somewhat as she looked upon my nakedness. Her eyes were riveted to my dick, it seemed. She licked her lips, drained her glass. Recklessly, she tossed the empty vessel to the corner of the balcony, where it shattered, and stepped forward. Her face glowed as she slipped off her dress.

"I'll do anything you want, Nick," she whispered. Her dress fell with the slightest flutter to her feet, leaving her in only her scarlet-colored heels. "Any fantasy . . . any kink."

I breathed in, trembling with arousal. Robin was, simply put, gorgeous. Her breasts, while small, floated high and firm, sporting thick, bright pink nipples. Her torso was narrow, with just a little softness to her stomach that I found endearing, sloping down and in toward a pubic mound topped with bright, flame-colored hair. I noticed that her tangerine curls had been sculpted into a heart shape, with the lower point drawing the eye to a dusky pink clitoris framed by smooth, fleshy vulva.

"Come here," I beckoned her.

Dutifully, Robin approached, stopping at the foot of the lounge. "What do you want?" she asked.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. "I want your mouth," I said.

She smiled slightly, and looked to my crotch. "Do you want me to suck your cock?" she asked, with all the casual aplomb of a submissive.

I shuddered. "Yes."

Robin's smile broadened, just a little, as she settled to her knees. She leaned over my groin, running her hands up my thighs. She gazed upon my thick cock approvingly, inhaled my scent through her nostrils. She sighed softly, then lowered her head, opening her mouth, slipping her tongue out.

I groaned as she licked my cock, dragging her wet tongue from base to tip over and over. My hands gripped the arm rests of the lounge, and I found myself pushing my hips toward her. Robin murmured softly, lapping up and down, breathing hotly on my shaft. Nothing in what she did gave me the impression that she was not enjoying herself. I even began believing that she wanted our union.

"Oh, God," I moaned, as Robin sucked my balls into her mouth, one at a time at first, moving back and forth, then both of them together. Her sucking lips, her massaging tongue . . . oh, sweet Nirvana . . . .

She panted on my dick, releasing my balls, licking up along the shaft, tilting it up with her hands. I sighed loudly as her mouth slid down the length of me. I looked down, watching her engulf me, swallow me, devour me. She paused a moment as the head of my cock pressed against the back of her mouth. Then she pushed down, taking it all in. I grunted, feeling the sweet, caressing tightness of her throat. Her lips pulled at the very base of my manhood.

"Robin . . . oh, Robin . . . ."

She slipped up with a gentle swallow and soft gasp around my cock, but kept working her lips and tongue up and down the length. Her hands joined the action, pumping, stroking me and rolling my balls. "I wanna make you cum, Nick," she whispered, her lips fluttering around the sensitive head. "I wanna taste it"

I groaned, writhing in pleasure. "Suck it, baby," I gasped. "Make me cum."

She sighed heatedly, then dove down, sucking and pulling with her mouth and hands. Her movements seemed to be inspired by desperate urgency, matched only by my own. I languished in bliss, bucking beneath her. Robin moved her head back and forth, moaning as she sucked and pulled, massaging my cock from all sides. Her gorgeous green eyes flashed up to mine now and then, twinkling with mischief and desire. How sexy she looked with her lips wrapped wetly around my shaft . . . .

"Oh, God!" I cried at last, bucking my hips up, shoving my cock into Robin's throat. She gurgled a moment, slid back quickly. Hands stroked me fervently, squeezing with the tightness of a vice, her mouth sucked hard on just the head. My body exploded with fire as I erupted in her mouth.

Robin moaned as she felt the hot sluices of fluid jetting along her tongue. She stroked my spurting shaft frantically, swirling her tongue all around the head. The effect was mind-numbing, maddening, borderline agonizing. I clasped her head in my hands, unsure if I should push her down or pull her off. "Jesus, Robin," I muttered.

"Mmm," she moaned, steadfastly sucking me. Robin wrapped her arms around my waist, taking my dick all the way into her throat. I shuddered, trying to endure the intensity of the pleasure she gave me.

"Enough, baby, enough," I sputtered, pulling on her head. Robin lifted up, letting my cock slip from her mouth to fall heavily against my abdomen. She licked her lips, wiped away the bubbles at the corners of her mouth. Her face was shiny, glowing with pride at her accomplishment.

"Not nearly enough, Nick," she whispered passionately, sliding her body up over me. Wet, warm lips crushed against mine. Her breath was fragrant with the aroma of my seed as she panted. I felt her hot, insistent wetness against my cock as she straddled my hips. She pushed up a moment, those dark green orbs blazing upon me. "My turn."

I offered no protest as Robin stood and straddled my chest, bracing her hands on the back of the lounge chair. She smiled down upon me as her musky-sweet pussy was poised over my mouth. Her pink lips had flared out, shiny and slick, showcasing the darker, pursed opening within. For whatever reasons, Robin was obviously turned on.

I grinned up at her, curling my arms around those slender, milky thighs. "Your turn," I whispered, licking along the insides of her thighs. Her sweet juice had trickled out, leaving little trails that I followed with my tongue. But just as I neared her lips, I would find another trail, then another. Robin began groaning in frustration, giving me a pleading look.

"Don't tease me, baby," she pined. "Eat me . . . please."

I chuckled, lightly licking along her smooth, wet outer lips. Robin had enjoyed controlling my pleasure; now I did the same to her. Judging by her smile, she understood the game, and appreciated it. Her fingers ran through my hair, but she did not try to pull me into her sex. It was enough for the moment, I suppose, that she finally felt my tongue along that sensitive flesh.

"Yes, baby, make me want it," she breathed, mouth hanging slack. She rolled her hips in slow, lazy circles, following some sexual rhythm in her head. I licked all around her swollen lips, dipped in for a fresher taste now and then. Each time my tongue licked at her hole, Robin would shudder slightly, catching her breath. Then she moaned gratefully as I licked and sucked with purpose, pulling her lips with my own, nipping at them, chewing them, even.

I pulled her down atop me, pressing my mouth to her sweet, tangy pussy. My hunger could no longer be denied. The game was over; real play now began. I sucked and devoured her, loving the feel of those soft, wispy orange hairs beneath my nose, the firmness of her Venus mound, the slippery feel of her lips gliding around my own. I thrust into her treasure like a pirate seeking gold, feeling the massaging muscles of her tunnel. My fingers dug into her thighs, holding fast and firm as she rocked atop me.

She made little noise beyond panting and soft, yearning moans. But like the chords of a violin, she vibrated and shook, her body tensing and quaking with the silent music of her imminent release. Gasps of pleasure escaped on hot breath once, twice, three times . . . then she stiffened, head thrown back, hands clutching my head close. I felt her pussy contract, then a literal burst of uncommonly sweet fluid upon my tongue.


Robin heaved for breath as she climaxed, grinding her orgasmic cunt into my mouth, humping back and forth. The lower half of my face became all but saturated with her juice, despite my fervent attempts to devour it all. I moved up a bit, covering her clit with my mouth and sucking on it. Robin all but screeched and jerked back, staring down at me. The porcelain tone of her skin had become a dark pink on her cheeks and neck. "No, baby—"

I grinned, and pulled her back down. "Yes," I growled, and sucked her clit back into my mouth.

"Ahh! Fuck!" she cried, arms flailing as if she was not sure where to put them. One finally slapped to the back of the lounge chair, the other to her pubic mound, tugging on her flesh, trying to pull her clitoris from my merciless mouth. But I was not about to let go. When she came again, Robin literally screamed in painful ecstasy. I heard her echoes flying between the buildings long after the moment ended.

Her body swayed and she fell back, sagging atop me. I could feel the muscles of her thighs quivering as I slowly slid her down my body and pulled her up until she was in my lap. Robin wrapped her arms around me limply, her head on my shoulder. Her breathing was deep and ragged, her body sweaty.

I settled tender kisses on her temple and cheek. She turned her head, meeting my lips, then kissed and licked all around my mouth, sucking for a moment on my chin. Clearly, Robin was not put off by her own flavor. Slowly, yet noticeably, as we kissed, Robin's passion became rekindled. She shifted on my lap, pushing up slightly and reaching between us. Deft, slender fingers found my erect cock, tilting it up. I winced at the heat of her flushed pussy.

"Fuck me," she whispered.

"Don't tell me twice," I responded, then thrust upward, nearly burying myself with the first plunge. Robin's eyes flashed open, green pools of fire staring at me. She looked shocked, even perturbed, for a long moment. I wondered if she was thinking of the husband she was betraying that very moment.

Then her features relaxed, and she smiled with erotic, hedonistic pleasure. I felt her pussy sucking me in as she ground down, seating my shaft deep inside. "Oh, baby, I knew you'd feel good," she muttered.

I kneaded her firm, pale cheeks in my hands, bracing my feet on the balcony floor. "I was about to say the same thing," I said, pushing her back and forth. Robin and I stared into one another's eyes as we moved back and forth, my cock sliding within her tight sheath. She made soft, faint whimpering noises, her features shifting slightly; a twitch of a brow, a parting of her lips, a momentary glazed look in her eyes.

I rolled forward, lifting us up, and turned about until Robin lay on her back on the chair. My cock never left the tight, rippling home it had quickly become accustomed to. Robin gave me dreamy, captivated looks as I held her legs wide, hands grasping fine-boned ankles, and sunk into her again and again. I would pull back until just the head of my cock was within her, then lunge in to the hilt. Robin grunted time and again as I took her. And she gave herself willingly.

I was sufficiently blessed with enough stamina to keep up the pace until Robin came again. I was quickly learning that, once she got started, Robin was an orgasmic machine. She came once, sighing and cooing, then again amid loud moans and groans, and finally, with a cacophonous eruption from her legs. That last one did the trick for me. Her cunt squeezing and pulling as urgently on my cock as her mouth and hands had, I could no longer hold back.

I thrust deep inside her one last time, relishing the incredible rush of passion as I joined Robin in orgasm. Had I been some ancient warrior, my cry may have been heard as a battle roar, the guttural declaration of a conquering hero.


Robin was not much for conversation. After regaining our breath on the balcony, we headed inside, to the more intimate trappings of a king-sized bed. What we did talk about, as we lay atop the sheets, caressing sweaty skin and sharing soft, impassioned kisses, was as mundane as what any two strangers might have discussed in a bar. Robin, it seemed to me, did not want to think about anything more pertinent than the moment.

And the moment concerned sex.

She went down on me again, despite the fact that we had not showered, and cleaned my cock of our sticky, mingled fluid. I pulled her atop me in a sixty-nine, finding Robin's pussy uncommonly wet and sweet. The depths of her womb had mixed our fluids together to form a thick, unique broth. I did not mind the unusual flavor in the least, even as I knew that perhaps half of what I licked from her was my own cum.

I honestly do not remember how many times we fucked that night. It was not making love, it was not coupling. We fucked. Like animals in the jungle, like slaves in a pen, we fucked. I took Robin in every position, and she would suck my cock after each of her orgasms before we switched.

The sun was finally rising by the time we fell asleep – or, rather, passed out – in the bed. Robin snuggled up beside me, kissing my chest before she drifted off. I followed soon after, wondering what the morning would bring.


I stirred from a kaleidoscopic dream of passion and sighs, sliding my hand across rich linen sheets. It took my conscious mind a moment to deduce that I had expected to feel a warm, feminine body, and did not.

I sat up quickly, looking around. The bed beside me was empty, the sheets tangled and hanging off the side. The pure, clean aroma of soap wafted to me from the bathroom. I glanced to the clock beside the bed; it read 1:30. PM.

Her clothes were gone, of course; Robin would not have left naked, after all. In fact, there seemed to be no trace that she had ever been there, save for the shattered champagne flute in the corner of the balcony. I sat on the edge of the bed, smiling ruefully to myself. Of course, I thought.

I showered and shaved, dressed casually. I still had one more day at the casino. But, for the first time, I did not look forward to an evening of gambling. I was aware that the only thing I wanted to play was the sweet, rewarding game I had enjoyed the night before. But that was a closed table, now. I would have to be happy with my memories.

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