The Protocol of Ahab Ch. 04

As I passed a table on a run for a couple pitchers of beer, I heard Angie at the next group of tables say to one of the players, "so what will it be a handjob or blowjob?" I caught a glimpse of Rachel. Her halter was untied and exposed her bra. She seemed unconcerned. I figured I had to get with the program.

I stood at the bar waiting as the pitchers filled when a man stepped up beside me. ""You aren't from around here are ya?" He asked innocently.

"No, I'm from Iowa." I answered with a Rachel-like fib.

"You came all the way from Iowa?"

"No. I came from Philly. I live there now," I lied again. "Why aren't you playing?" I asked.

"I need to take a piss. I'm on my way to the 'gents'."

"There?" I nodded in the direction of the men's room.

"Ever seen the inside of that one?"

"Not tonight."

"I'd like to invite you if you are interested."

"I need to delivery these beers but then I could take you up on the invite." I picked up the pitcher and returned to my tables. He walked toward the bathroom glancing at me every few steps. I looked about the tables. Everybody seemed engrossed in their game, so I casually walked into the men's room. The guy from the bar was alone standing at the urinal.

"Well, well, well, it looks like you are waiting for me or am I too late?" I asked in my best street walker voice as I walked towards him.

He turned with his cock still in his hand. "I could use a kiss for luck since I am not much of a card player."

"Luck is not cheap but if you want a good time, I can make you a winner." I felt I was channeling Rachel.

"How much for some luck?" he asked.

"Oh, for you, because you look like a nice guy; a couple of chips."

He nodded and fished around in his pockets for some stray chips. As he did, I knelt next to the urinal and reached for his cock. It was limp. I squeezed and a bead of urine formed at the tiny eye. "Is this for me?"

He leaned over and put the chips in the name tag purse around my neck. "Only if you want it." He added. I touched my tongue to the salty drop as I worked him to an erection, took him in my mouth and began to suck, then halted. I looked up and grabbed my hair in a bunch and pulled it behind my head. "Can you see OK?" I did not wait for a reply but lifted my camisole to show my tits and then continued sucking using just my mouth to work him. His body quivered from my mouth music and then ejaculated. I swallowed quickly and took a few more drafts to not leave any telltale stains. I stood and he pushed a few more chips into my purse.

"Thanks." I winked. "Maybe some other time." I added. I kissed him on the cheek, and he walked out. I stood at the mirror and straightened my top when the door opened, and a man walked in.

"I thought this was the men's room." He exclaimed in moderate surprise.

"It is." I chuckled. "That's why I am here." And I left.

'Well, that is a start' I thought to myself as I made my way back to my tables gathering a couple pitchers of beer as I did.

"Didn't think you'd ever back! I could use a whisky if your servin", barked a short heavyset man in a cowboy hat.

"Comin' up!" I grabbed a tray, order four shooters and returned. I set them down one at a time before him, each time bending over to let my tits dangle before him. "Everybody else good?"

"I only needed one, but I'll take two. I am running out of luck and need to piss." He laughed. "I'll pass on this hand." He stood up; hammered back one shot followed immediately by the second, straightened his cowboy hat and walked to the bar. I made a quick sweep of the old cups and pitchers returned them to the bar and brought back fresh beer. Those seated were engrossed in the game. I sidled to the bar and from there caught a glimpse of Rachel. Her halter was undone and as she moved between tables it flapped side to side exposing her tits. She looked natural and comfortable. I imagined this was her real calling.

I turned and caught the cowboy staring at me. "Taking a break?" I asked sociably.

"Yeah. Tryin' to do somthin' to change my luck. Thinkin maybe a walk over there would change things for me." As he spoke, he nodded toward the curtained partitions against the far wall. "Think that would help? Once paid a witch doctor fifty-bucks to put a spell on my old lady. That didn't work but things might be better this time."

"For fifty dollars I may not change your luck, but I sure could put you in a good mood. Shall we take a walk?"

He offered me his arm and I took it demurely. Several men cast knowing glances and a few made comments as we passed, which I took as compliments. Everyone knew what was about to happen. I peeked behind the first curtain. The small room was vacant. On the floor was a futon mattress, in the corner a folding chair, just the basics. The cowboy followed me, and I turned to slide the curtain, shutting out the prying eyes. As I did, I noticed several potential customers stare longingly as the curtain closed.

"Let me take care of you first." He said as he slid some neatly folded bills into the plastic purse. "And now I will take care of you" I replied as I lowered to my knees.

And so it went, as I worked the crowd; hustled tables; accompanied patrons to the 'back room' and made my deposits in the large handbag in Rachel's locker. Each time I visited the locker, the handbag became more stuffed with chips and cash. Rachel and I were having a good night.

The Vegas Night morphed from serious gambling to a lounge atmosphere. The low hanging haze of cigar and cigarette smoke clouded the room. The winning players kept on playing; the losers became disinterested in cards and more interested in drinking and hanging about and hitting on the hostesses. Those that still played cards drifted from table to table looking for a new game which meant a constant turn over at my tables. Be friendly, keep moving, be willing but don't fall in love. With that attitude, I benefited from the change.

The night wore on and the action slowed. I became more interested in locating Rachel than drumming up business. I last caught her entering one of the back rooms wearing only her spandex briefs. I felt a twinge of jealousy.

Strangers occupied my tables. Some of the original player had left for the night, other hopped to other tables, some hung about the bar. I approached my table and squatted down at the side resting my arms on the edge. "Can I get anybody need a drink, or something?" I was tired and bored and hoping for the night to end.

"Well darlin', I been watching you all night." I looked up at the older man sitting across from me with a hand of cards before him. "That tank top ain't really worth much. If you need it to support your tits, it ain't doin' a good job. If you are wearin' it to hide your tits, well it does that, but I can still see every bump and flea bite on your nipples right through it." I smiled, looked down with an exaggerated frown and tugged at my front. "I make ya a deal" he continued, "I'll buy you a new one. How much ya pay for that?"

"I don't recall, but it was quite nice when it was new."

"Ten, twenty dollars? Name a price."

"Twenty," I suggested, "That would easily cover the cost of a new one."

He riffled the pile of chips before him. "OK then; fifty American dollars. But ya must sell me that one right now."

My mind was not as sharp as it should have been. "You want this?"

"Yeah. I want it right now. Fifty dollars."

The penny dropped. "OK. It's a deal." I stood, stretched my arms languidly over my head and thrust my thumbs under the straps of my camisole and slowly pulled it up over my head. When I finished removing it, I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it across the table to him. In turn, he grabbed a handful of chips from the table and flipped them towards me. "That should cover it."

As I scrambled to gather in the loose chips I heard a voice behind me, "she really is a whore".

I turned to the small crowd that had gathered behind me. "Any offers for the skirt?" someone called. For the first time all evening I bothered to take look at it. The hem was frayed and torn where it caught my heels, the front was grimy especially around the knees and the elastic in the waistband was stretched. May as well sell it!

"Five dollars!" someone shouted. I cast a harsh frown in their direction.

"Six!"

"Eight!"

I looked around the room. Most of the crowd had left. Another girl, Dawn, had stripped to the waist and was entertaining a couple guys at the bar. Angie, huddled among a few players at a table against the far wall. Rachel emerged from a back room wearing her spandex black briefs and boots, followed by a contented gentleman. She nodded.

"Twenty!" That caught my attention.

"Twenty-one; Twenty-two!" The bidding slowed.

"Going once!" I hesitated. "Going twice!" The crowd grew silent. "Gone!" With a flourish I pushed the skirt to the floor and stepped from it. The winning bidder approached with folded bills, and I held out the purse so he could deposit them. As he did, he casually brushed against my breast. I smiled. He turned toward the table. "I'd have a proposition if everyone agrees. How about one last hand? The winner gets half the pot and the services of our hostess. The hostess gets the other half for her time and effort. How about it Honey? Any takers?"

"Now, what kind of services did you have in mind?" I asked coyly.

"What kind of services would you like to offer? You might not have anything the boys want."

Rachel was in the crowd smiling, suppressing a laugh at my predicament. I took that as a challenge. I turned to face the crowd, mindful that I only had on my high heels and panties.

"If I am part of the wager", I ad-libbed, "I can ante up an excellent fantasy with the following conditions. I won't go home with you. If you want to get intimate, you need to wear this." I pulled a condom from the purse and held it up. "I do not care for anything anal or perverted. That is out. Also, even if you rode here on your favorite farm animal, I am not interested in servicing him. I am sure I would love your horse, but I don't want to LOVE your horse. Anything else is OK." The last line evoked a chorus of chuckles. "If that is agreeable with you, it is agreeable with me."

"Count me in." A player took a seat at the table. The remaining vacancies filled up. The organizer rhythmically and repeatedly shuffled the cards.

"Before we ante up" someone asked, "Isn't the hostess part of the pot?"

I can play along. I climbed on a chair and stepped to the center of the table. The only face I focused on in the crowd was Rachel as she grinned broadly. I winked in her direction, not expecting her to notice. To my surprise, she acknowledged me with a wink of her own. Everything was alright.

The chips fell at my feet, the dealer dealt the cards and the players wagered. Halfway around the table, the betting stopped. "What you waitin' on? Make a bet", the dealer barked.

"It is not that I am superstitious none, but I like to see what I am betting on. And right now, I can't see it." The comment was a tease, a taunt, or a dare. I turned to face the recalcitrant better. The crowd stared silently, anticipating my next move. Then without further hesitation, I slid my panties down my legs and stepped out of them. With a flick of my foot, I lofted them into the adoring crowd. "Now", I stared directly into his eyes and slowly squatted before him, "is this a good enough sample?" To add to the enthusiasm, I ran my hand down my crotch and caressed my pussy. The crowd let out a wild cheer.

The wagering rotated from player to player around the table and I revolved in synch with the betting, giving each a display of the ultimate prize. The wagering increased as the competitors thinned. I continued my exhibitionism as Rachel emerged from the locker room with a cloth bag.

Three players remained and the pot continued to grow. My heels kept slipping on the plastic discs. The game dragged on until "call ya'" was shouted and the last players threw in their hands. I became a prize. He received my hand to step down and I tugged him in direction of the back rooms. He resisted.

"Having a change of heart?" I pleaded demurely.

"No. No not at all. I was thinking of the rules. You did not say we had to go in the back room."

I paused trying to recall my exact words. "Perhaps not. Where did you have in mind?" But I already knew his answer.

"Right here?"

"OK. You're the winner." I knelt before him and ran my hands across his jeans. His cock surged beneath the faded denim. 'Just get this over with' I thought, I'm getting tired, and I want to be with Rachel. I unzipped his fly. The stiff cock was snared between the folds of his boxer shorts. I unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them slightly to give me more room. As I did, I bent forward and felt in the purse hanging around my neck. Before he could protest, I took out the condom I displayed earlier. The crowd gave out a prolonged "Yeah!" and then parted as someone dragged the futon mattress from the back room to the center of the floor. I reached for the condom, tore open the foil wrapper, took his cock in my mouth for good measure then released it and slowly unfurled the latex sheath over his hard member.

He hesitated as I fiddled with his clothed organ obviously waiting for me to take the initiative. I eased his jeans down from his hips to his knees and he took my hint and worked them off his legs. I winked and rolled onto the futon and lay on my back; my knees bent to expose my pleasure. He smiled and got down on all fours and crawled between my legs. I pulled his head to my tits and worked my legs around his waist. Clumsily he dropped on me, thrusting his cock to make its own way to my target.

His awkward lunges pushed against my cunt but refused to enter. I grabbed him fiercely and pulled him to where the nipple tip reached the magic tunnel of love. I paused, let him relax, and then steered his cock slowly between my lips and deep in my vagina. I gasped deeply as he urged his cock deeper in me. I lay back. He was on top of me pushing with his pelvis.

The audience shouted drunken encouragement and he responded with more botched penetration. My mind raced backwards to Rachel's three qualifications for a hundred-dollar whore: 1) you must fuck 2) you must act and 3) you must count to one hundred. I must do better acting, I admonished myself. With that I wedged his cock firmly in my hole, wrapped my legs tightly around his waist; spastically pumped my ass and emitted short deep grunts.

The 'winner' responded in kind and rode me enthusiastically, if dispassionately. He looped an arm under my knee and pulled my leg up. To accommodate his lust, I brought my legs up until they were almost on his shoulder as I rocked on my arched back.

"Make me come. Make me come. Faster, faster." I panted convincingly. To my pleadings, he thrust quicker and sharper. I felt his ass tighten then a thrust and the physical release. I timed my moaning, punctuated with a muted, "yes, yes, yes" to coincide with his collapse on me. We lay there quietly, panting; he satisfied with his sexual performance, and I satisfied with my acting ability.

"That was good." I muttered for everyone to hear as I rolled off the mattress and knelt beside the winner. He lay on his back with his limp organ loosely shrouded in the crinkled sheath. Rachel was taking advantage of the side show to scoop my share of the pot off the table into a grocery bag. She smiled and arched her eyebrows in a comic gesture and nodded to the corner where the bank was set up. Was she asking for time to cash out? 'I can do that!' I thought to myself.

I casually played with the come filled nipple end of the condom as the crowd closed around me and shouted encouragement. "You go baby!" The winner grinned as I grabbed the tip and tugged the casing free allowing the captured slime to ooze over the spend cock. "Eat the come!" a voice called from the back. Without looking up, I bent forward and took the come smeared limp cock in my mouth and sucked. I coaxed the organ to a semi-hard state as I gathered my hair in both hands and pulled it away from my face affording the crowd an ample view.

I closed my eyes and mechanically rocked on the cock as my thoughts drifted to Rachel. The warm flesh in my mouth was a means to help Rachel attain her dream. When he shot a small glob of come, I slurped the last drop from him before I swallowed. My smile masked the general disinterest I really felt. I was acting.

"Show's over!" the manager shouted, "Cash out now we need to clean up." I rose and walked through the crowd to the locker while they patted, commented, made offers and groped. I acknowledged each with a smile or a nod.

Rachel handed me my jeans and a sweatshirt. "Get dressed. We don't want to be the last ones out of here." I dressed and she handed me the purse. "If somebody grabs it, give one pull back and then let it go." The winners were still cashing out. The manager guarded the door and ushered the patrons and hostesses out. He smiled and asked, "You going to be available for our next Vegas night?" It was directed at both of us, but he stared at me. "OK, I reckon." I glanced at Rachel for a reaction. "How can I reach you?" This never occurred to me. I nodded towards Rachel, "She knows how to get hold of me. She knows where I work." The manger looked at Rachel, "Is that OK?" "Sure, just give me a call. You have my number."

The cold car reluctantly sputtered to life. Rachel sprayed gravel as we wheeled from the lot and headed to the interstate. "Is this the way we came?" I quizzically asked. "No. We are not going back to the motel; we are heading back to town. We are holding a large quantity of untraceable, illegally gotten, easily transferable cash. I don't trust anybody back there and they would gladly relieve us of this." The dark side of Rachel emerged. Her eyes continually flitted left, right and to the mirror. She tugged at her blouse and handed me a manila envelope; then another and a third. "The fat one is yours."

"Mine? I thought it was ours?"

"You were the high-octane rock star meteor tonight. This is your share. You earned it. You sure did put on a show." Her voice was loaded with sarcasm.

"I only did it for you, for us. I would not have done this without you! Everything I did I did thinking of you. That is not mine." I felt a nervous knot well up in my stomach as I slumped into my seat and stared straight ahead. We drove on in silence.

I picked up the purse from the floor. It was empty, so I placed the envelopes with the cash in it and closed the snap. A suspicious thought crossed my mind. "Why did you hand me this" I inquired as I held up the purse, "if you knew it was empty?"

"I told you to give one pull and then let it go. I didn't say cling to it for your life."

"No! Just long enough for me to get pushed to the ground and the bag disappear. I would think we were robbed and all the while you kept the cash. That was your scheme." I was furious at this revelation. "I should just toss this out the window. It doesn't mean anything to me." My eyes moistened and I felt like sobbing but controlled myself. I was so livid I could not think straight.

Rachel maintained a stoical demeanor. This was very distinct from her extremely vulnerable or self-assured deportments and it scared me. She rustled about in her coat pocket before speaking. "OK. I did give you an empty purse and I did have the envelopes hidden on me and I was concerned about someone trying to rob us. But I was not stealing your money." She thrust her jaw forward as she thought how to phrase her next sentence. Whatever she was about to say, I was determined not to believe her. "If somebody grabbed the bag and you resisted once, that would buy me enough time." She withdrew her hand from her pocket and placed a revolver between us on the console. "I did not think you would have it in you to pull the trigger." A chill passed through me as I contemplated the consequences. "I would never let anybody harm you." She added.