At the Tables

I never grow bored with people watching, whether it's at the bustling mall as holidays approach, a crowded park on a rare sunny day in winter, or, like tonight, on the casino floor. It's busy, filled with skiers and snowboarders blowing off more steam after a long day on the slopes. There are the regulars, mindlessly feeding money into the machines, entranced by the ringing bells and flashing lights. Best of all though, are all the girls; lots of young girls in tops too tight and wearing heavy makeup prowl the floor, looking for a hookup for the night. There are older women, too, hanging out with their friends on a girls' night out, looking more jaded, more weary, perhaps, and definitely more selective in the toys they might choose. Tonight, though, it's mostly couples, sneaking out on the kids playing video games upstairs in their rooms, or celebrating some kind of milestone with an adventure in paradise.

I haven't quite figured out to which group you belong. Checking out your fine ass from behind, I noticed a brown suede skirt clinging seductively to your cheeks, with the hem high enough to emphasize the tan of your thighs, skin that had seen more sun than snow. When I first saw you, I thought you were with the group of sorority girls giggling at your blackjack table. But, then I noticed your hand on your man's shoulder, the diamond on your finger glistening in the light. I moved a bit closer, off to the side, catching finally a glimpse of your face. Oh shit, no fucking way. I know those eyes, sparkling more than your diamond and as deep as the lake right outside the door. Your mouth though not smiling at the moment, had the potential to steal my heart. Potential, hell. It had stolen my heart. There was a line or two near the corners of your eyes, lines not there back when I knew you, lines hinting at stories you'd never tell. Nope, you were definitely not a college girl, but your body, the way you stood there, the air around you let me know you still had what it took to put those girls to shame.

I'm trying to remember when it was I last saw you, as if I could ever forget. And your man, that prick, I outta go kick his ass right now.

Relax, John. Those days are long gone.

It's been fifteen years, and judging by the look of him, time had been more kind to me than to him. He had been my best friend, I'd convinced your father to hire him on to the firm. At the time I was the high flier, definitely on the move, making your pops lots of money, lots more than he'd even made before. Your father didn't even mind when you and I started dating, no matter how young you were, though dating sounds so cute and innocent, and what we had definitely wasn't that. Who knew that once the prick got hired he'd set me up like that, making it seem as though I was robbing your father blind. He was good, I'll give him that, setting up accounts in the Caymans in my name, even hired hookers that swore they partied with me at night in the office, doing lines of coke on your father's desk. The Slick Prick. Even the law bought into his lies and manipulations. Cost me seven years, three months and 13 days. But who's counting, right? When I finally got out that career was no longer an option, but the funny thing is that a few books I had read while locked up got me started in a whole new direction.

The worst part of that story is that of course your silly ass bought his whole game too. I heard he had gone to comfort you and ended up with your heart. Isn't life a trip?

I moved closer to better check you out. Your beige silk blouse teased all men with any kind of vision, just sheer enough to give us peeks of sexy lace underneath, and more than just a few of the buttons undone, showing off the smooth flesh of your cleavage. The expression on your face was anything but happy at the moment. You're leaning against the prick, watching silently as his losses continue to mount. He doesn't even glance at you as the waitress brings him another drink that he quickly knocks back while signaling the dealer for another stack of chips.

I watch as you lean down, your lips pressed against his ear, your breasts pressed against his back. You're whispering, and I can tell by the way your fingers lazily stroke his arm that you're suggesting something much more fun than a card game. Fuck, you're making ME hard and I can't even feel your breath in my ear, he must have a cock like steel right now. But he shrugs you off, swatting at you as though you're an unwanted pest, his fingers busy counting his chips. Still a prick. You try again, perhaps promising something even more enticing this time, but he turns around and snarls before going back to his chips.

I watch you as you walk away. You must have realized you were fighting a losing battle, and it is obvious that you are pissed. As you walk away, your hips move from side to side, the 4 inch heels making your walk more like a sexy sashay. Suddenly, I realize I have a plan. He may never know that I got my revenge, but I certainly would, and I'd have fun doing it.

I quickly make my way to the elevators, beating you there, able to hold open the door for you as you approach, your lips clenched in anger, your eyes on the floor, not even noticing me. We're the only people on the elevator; I'm up against the wall behind you, watching closely as you press the button for the 15th floor.

Looking again at your sweet ass, I decide to go all in. Moving close behind you, I reach around and press my thumb against the emergency stop button. The elevator grinds to a halt, with an incessant beeping piercing the quiet silence of a moment before. My arm is still around you, trapping you against the wall. Your head turns towards me, eyes flashing in anger. You start to say, "What the fu....," but my other hand flies out and clasps your chin, tightly, a finger pressed against your lip as I quickly turn your face back towards the door before you get a good look at me.

"Shhhh. Just listen." My voice is quiet, belying the tone underneath that invites only compliance. "Don't be mad at me. I'm not the one shrugging you off. I'm not the one pissing away my money while you stand there turning on every man in the room. Do you really want to get back at the fool? Here's your chance, take me back to your room."

You try to shake your head, who the fuck do I think I am. But right then you feel my hand squeezing your breast. You move to turn around and slap me, but my grip on your chin tightens, and I press you against the wall.

"Don't even pretend you're not hungry, I saw the way you whispered in his ear, I saw the way your ass wiggled as you walked. I saw your nipples poking through your silk blouse." With that, my fingers slide under the blouse, easily pushing aside the flimsy lace bra and capturing a swollen nipple. Squeezing tightly, I whisper, "Well? I've got what you need and I'm willing to share it." Tears well up in your eyes, but that isn't the only part of your body growing moist. Your mind is tumbling. You can't deny that you had been headed up to your room to watch some porn and rub your seeping pussy while the asshole wasted money and time downstairs. You can't deny that you're incredibly turned on, but is it from this really, being groped in an elevator, some man's fingers twisting your nipple while he lewdly rubs his crotch against your ass? If only it didn't feel so fucking good.

My lips brush your ears as my fingers slide from your chin down to your neck and squeeze even more tightly. "Listen, I'm gonna fuck you. The only question is where you're gonna take it. Are we going to the comfort of your room, your warm soft bed, or am I gonna tear that skirt off your ass and fuck you hard right here against the wall? Makes no difference to me." My feet kick at yours, spreading your legs apart as I lean against you with my full weight, my hand letting go of your nipple and quickly reaching up under your skirt where I feel not panty, but instead your bare and very wet pussy. My fingers waste no time in exploring, you gasp as two plunge inside you, pushing deep while my thumb presses against your clit.

The beeping of the elevator alarm is ringing in your ears, distracting you from the very welcome throbbing in your clit.

Your voice stutters just a tiny bit as you tell me "Please, in my room, let's go up to my room."

I take my fingers off your neck, red marks a reminder of where they had been, and reset the emergency stop button. The annoying beeping stops, the suddenly silent elevator disturbed only by the deep gasps of air you were inhaling. Is it nervousness, excitement or arousal? Or maybe it's just that you're now able to breathe without my fingers clasped around your throat.

The elevator chimes as we reached your floor, and I regretfully pull my fingers from your pussy, leaving your skirt still hiked up over your hip. Pushing you out into the hallway, I growl, "Let's go."

Your eyes lock onto mine, doubt creeping into your mind, but the look you see leaves no room for questions. You reach down and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards your room. Suddenly you stop, whipping your head back around, you mouth dropping open.

"John?" You're shaking your head, convinced you're hallucinating.

"Oh yes, baby, it's me, betcha never thought you'd see me again."

I push you towards your room, hurrying to the door, not wanting to give you a chance to think.

In an instant, we are inside, you are turned towards me, wrapping your arms around me, and with your lips pressed against mine. Fuck. So much for the scared, helpless woman. Your tongue is deep inside my mouth, your hands tangled in my hair. Oh yes, you're hungry, very hungry. Breaking off from the kiss, you breathlessly moan, you lips glistening as you start to tell me "fuck this is hot, I want to..." Your sentence is cut off when I push you down onto the bed, my face inches from yours. You feel my breath on your face as I snarl, "I don't remember asking you what you want."

My hands grab the front of your blouse and yank, buttons flying across the room. Your bra is next, after freeing your breasts, my urgent motion is momentarily slowed as I stop to gaze at you. Nipples stiff and red from my earlier attention caught my eye. I lean down to suckle, my lips soft and my tongue soothing. But the gentleness is gone in an instant as my teeth bite down, hard, marking you and making you moan. My hands are busy with my zipper, opening my pants and pulling out my cock. I haven't been this hard in a long, long time, and my cock bounces with each movement I make. Your skirt was already hiked up, your pussy slick with honey. I slap my thick cock against your slit, wet sounds echoing against the walls. I figured to tease you for a moment, the head of my cock nudging your clit, but you surprise me by reaching down and grabbing my shaft, holding it while you buck your hips and swallow it with your hungry cunt.

Oh fuck, you're so fucking tight, yet so fucking wet. This is better than I remember, you've got a little more cushion, a little more curve to your wonderful body. You're even hungrier than me, your ass lifting up off the bed as you try to get more of me inside you. I'm plunging hard inside you, like pushing into a velvet vice and your hands are tight on my ass, pulling, your nails digging into my skin. My cock is in a hot heaven, surrounding by the steamy confines of your pussy, thrusting in and out, my body pounding against yours. I'm looking down at your pretty face, those lips starting to form a smile as you recognize in me that look of unbridled lust. You'd love to cry out my name right now, to tell me how good my cock feels, but your ragged breath won't let you, all you know is that I'm throbbing, you see my eyes flutter and mmmm mmmmmmmmm fuck yeah, so fucking good. You feel the flood of hot semen pulsing inside you, filling you, squishing out with each slowing thrust. My body drops against yours, my head cradled on your breasts, I can hear and feel your heart pounding.

Still breathing hard, I push myself off you standing above you, slowly pulling my cock from your sloppy slit. My cum trickles out, so pretty as it slides down along your flesh. I'm still fairly hard, I'd love another taste, but it's time to go. I slap myself against your slit one more time, then put my cock away. My finger dips in the pool of cum gathering in the folds of your pussy, swirling, then I lift it to your lips. You lick it clean, and as I turn to leave, you grab a pen from the nightstand, writing a phone number on the palm of my hand.

Somehow I have the feeling that you and I will have many more opportunities for revenge.