Climbing the Rock

Chapter 11B: The Razor

Afterward, as they lay naked on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, smoking their cigarettes, she turned to him.

"I really am going to make it up to you," she said.

He grunted in response, feeling his usual post-coital guilt at giving into her emotional blackmail.

She gently kissed his ear. "Jake," she said, "I know I've been unfair to you. I've been parading you around like a toy, exposing you to all kinds of things and people you don't want to be exposed to. I've ruined your trip home. It's time we went somewhere where we can be anonymous."

"Where?" he asked, a note of bitterness plainly evident. "Madagascar? Or maybe Indonesia?"

"No," she said. "Somewhere close by, about two hours from here by plane. Georgette can make the arrangements tonight and we can be there by noon tomorrow."

"Where?" he repeated.

"Las Vegas," she said.

"Vegas?" he said. "You think we can be anonymous in Vegas? Are you insane? They'll be crawling over us from the moment we walk into the first casino."

"Au contraire," she said. "I've been there many times without anyone knowing. When you're considered one of the 'high rollers', as I am, they can be very discreet."

"I'm sure they can," he said, "but that still doesn't stop everyone in the casino from recognizing us and swarming us."

"Actually it does," she said. "There are special parts of the casino set aside just for the high rollers, parts the ordinary people never see. And the staff in this part of the casino will do anything for you. Forget about waiting for a cocktail waitress. There's one assigned to your table. And forget about some moron on third base while you're playing blackjack. No one is allowed at your table without your invite."

"Really?" he said, interested in spite of himself. "And you've done this a lot?"

She smiled. "Gambling is yet another one of my vices. I'm pretty good at it, too."

"But you're not twenty-one yet."

She chuckled. "When you take out enough in chips they don't give a rat's ass how old you are, they just give you the signature sheet and a gold-plated fountain pen. And they stuff you with free food, free drinks, free everything. Go with me, Jake. Let me show you what the high life is all about. I don't think you'll be disappointed."

"I don't know," he said.

"Know," she told him. "We'll bring Bill along too, he'll have a blast. In fact, let's invite your whole family. Bill's too. It's all on me."

"Mindy," he said, "my family is never going to let you pay for a trip to Vegas for them. Neither is Bill's."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't be paying for anything, really. They'll fly us out there and give us suites in the hotel. All I'll be providing them with is their casino chips."

"How much in casino chips?"

"Don't worry about that," she said. "I can afford it. You know that."

"They won't go for it."

"You never know until you ask, do you? Give them a call."

He did. Bill was happy to try out the Las Vegas experience. His parents were not, for exactly the reason that Jake had surmised. Jake's parents said it sounded like fun but they both had to work the next day — Tom on a court brief he was preparing regarding a young man who lost vision in one eye after being struck by a Heritage Police baton, Mary on a rehearsal for the Philharmonic Orchestra's coming winter concert series. Pauline was supposed to work the next day as well, but she decided that she'd just had a sudden onset of the flu and called in sick.

"High roller treatment in Vegas?" she said. "Count me in."

Mindy made another phone call to Georgette. Their conversation lasted less than thirty seconds but that was all it took to get the wheels rolling.

Jake, Mindy, and Bill drove to the airport (a smaller throng of reporters following behind them the entire way). They turned in their rental cars and found a place of relative privacy near the back of the general aviation terminal. Pauline arrived ten minutes later, stepping out of a limousine sent to her house and paid for by Caesar's Palace. She was giggly and wide-eyed — the result of drinking two bloody Marys in the limo — as she joined them in the lounge. She thanked Mindy profusely for inviting her along.

"It's my pleasure," Mindy assured her.

And Jake could see that it really was her pleasure. This little trip was probably going to cost her more than the average person earned in a year, but it was money she was glad to spend. She liked lavishing people with horribly expensive gifts. It was one of the things she lived for. And the more people she could lavish, the better.

Less than fifteen minutes after Pauline's arrival a uniformed stewardess told them their flight was ready. They followed her through the terminal, the reporters all screaming after them, demanding to know where they were going, what they were doing. No one answered or even acknowledged them.

They were led across the tarmac — the reporters were held back at the terminal exit by the security guards — to an idling Lear jet. The inside was cramped but luxurious, with padded leather seats, an entertainment center, and a full service bar. They found seats and the stewardess served a round of drinks while the plane was sealed up and began to taxi.

They roared into the sky, climbing steeply to forty-two thousand feet. As soon as they leveled off the stewardess presented them with a silver tray upon which white lines had been neatly formed.

"Can I offer anyone some cocaine?" she asked in the same tone of voice with which she'd offered the drinks.

They all took her up on the offer, Pauline included. She snorted up two of the lines in a manner that told Jake this was not her first time.

"Oh wow," she said, her eyes shining, a smile on her face. "This is some really good shit."

"Naturally," Mindy said.

They all had two more drinks and destroyed an ounce of Beluga caviar before the plane touched down at the Las Vegas airport. A limousine was standing by waiting for them and they piled in for the short trip to the opulent Caesar's Palace Casino. Instead of going to the main entrance, they were taken around to the side where three nearly identical looking tuxedoed men politely greeted them before escorting them to a small elevator that they rode to the top floor.

Pauline and Bill were each given their own suites. Jake and Mindy were given one to share. All were packed with every luxury that could conceivably be provided and had spectacular views of Las Vegas. Their tuxedoed man — who held the title of 'butler', Jake discovered — pointed out the various features of the room — the hot tub, the wet bar, the projection television set — and then let them know of some of the other services that were available to them.

"If you would care for a massage simply let me know, or, if you're down in the casino level, you can call extension 2976 from any phone and I will make the arrangements for a masseuse to come up to your room. Adult movies are available for your enjoyment as well. There is a menu of the selections inside the bar. If you fancy some intoxicating substances I can arrange for both cocaine and marijuana to be supplied to you. And, if you are desirous of some... uh... adult companionship, I can make those arrangements as well."

"Do you have a menu for that too?" Jake asked.

Mindy giggled. "Thank you, Roberto," she told him. "We'll let you know if we need any of those things. For now, I think we'll go hit the tables. Where might we find them?"

"Take the elevator you used to access this floor down to level seven. Turn right and your assigned casino room will be 703. Gaming and cocktail staff is already on duty."

"Thank you, Roberto," Mindy said, reaching in her purse and passing him a piece of currency. Jake didn't get a good look at it but he was pretty sure he'd seen a picture of Benjamin Franklin on its face.

Bill was suitably impressed with the services being offered. So impressed, in fact, that he wasn't quite ready to leave the room yet. "I'm going to imbibe in some of that adult companionship first," he told them. "Compensation is not required from me, correct?"

"Well, you are expected to tip your... uh... adult companion," Mindy told him. "You can use casino chips for that but you won't have any until you go down to the casino."

"Hmm," Bill said thoughtfully. "That does present a minor quandary. I wouldn't want to commit a breach of etiquette."

"Here," Mindy said, digging in her purse and coming out with another picture of Benjamin Franklin. "Give her this when she's done. That should suffice. You are only having one adult companion come up, right?"

"I can get more than one?"

"Oh yes," Mindy said. "There's plenty of companionship to go around."

"Hmmm," Bill said thoughtfully.

"You better give him another one," Jake told Mindy. "He's too shy to ask for it."

She laughed and dug out another bill. "Enjoy yourself, Bill. We'll see you down in the casino later?"

"Yes," he said, taking the money. "Thank you, Mindy. This is shaping up to be a superior vacation."

"My pleasure," she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek, which made him blush.

If Bill was impressed, Pauline was completely dumbfounded. They found her wandering around her room, looking at everything, trying everything. She had a tall drink in her hand as she turned on the bathtub taps, fired up the hot tub jets, changed channels on the television.

"This is incredible!" she exclaimed, sounding like a child on Christmas morning. "My whole friggin' house isn't this big. And the view! My God! Do you live like this all the time, Mindy?"

"When I come to Vegas I do. It's one of the privileges of being a high roller."

"I need to make myself into a high roller then," she said, more than a hint of determination in her voice.

They went down the elevator, emerging into a wide, spacious hallway on the seventh floor. The section of the building they were in was completely isolated from the rest of the casino, the few entrances guarded by armed security personnel. There were several tinted glass doors on each side of the hallway, spaced every forty or fifty feet. Each one had a number on it. When they reached 703 Jake held the door open for the ladies. Another security guard stood just inside, manning a podium much like a maitre d's in a restaurant. He smiled and greeted them by name, waving them inside.

"Wow," Jake and Pauline said together as they entered, both of them looking around in awe. It was a windowless circular room, about two thousand square feet or so, done up in rich red carpeting that stretched from wall to wall. Standing upon this carpet, arranged symmetrically in a pattern that was pleasing to the eye, was every kind of gambling table the casino offered. There was a blackjack table, a craps table, two roulette wheels, and a pai gow table, all of them staffed and ready for action, all of them empty of players. There were three rows of slot machines, each with a padded leather chair before it. There were another two rows of video poker machines, each of them with the same chairs before them. A bar stood against the far wall, a bartender and two cocktail waitresses on duty. From hidden speakers in the wall soft music was playing.

"All this is for us?" Pauline asked.

"All for us," Mindy confirmed. "Our own private casino."

"Would you care to sign for your chips, Ms. Snow?" asked the security guard.

"You bet your ass," she said, taking a gold-plated pen from his hands and signing a form on his clipboard.

The guard passed out plastic racks to each of them, racks that contained nothing but black, purple, and yellow casino chips, the denominations of which were $100, $500, and $1000 respectively.

"This is fifteen thousand dollars worth," Pauline gasped as her accountant-like mind quickly added up the colors and came to a result.

"Oh, this is just for starters," Mindy said. "When you lose it all there will be more."

Pauline's mouth was agape.

"And what kind of music would you like to hear this evening?" the guard asked Mindy.

"Give us a variety," she told him. "A little hard rock, a little soft rock, a little country. Mix it up."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Jake," Pauline whispered in his ear, "this is a third of my yearly salary she just handed me. Fifteen thousand dollars!"

"She can afford it," Jake whispered back. "Just go with the flow and have a good time."

"Shall we start out with some blackjack?" Mindy asked them. "That's always been my favorite."

"Uhhh, sure," Pauline said, still trying to come to grips. "Sounds good."

The sat down at the blackjack table, Mindy at third base, Jake at second, Pauline at first. The dealer — a buxom blonde of about twenty — greeted them by name. The cocktail waitress — a buxom brunette of about twenty — came over and offered them drinks. While they gave their drink orders Jake looked around again and saw that every one of the employees catering to them — man or woman — was physically attractive. Even the security guard was a buffed out male that most woman would describe as "a hunk".

"And would you like some cocaine to go with your drinks?" the cocktail waitress offered next.

"You know it," Mindy said. "Line us up."

"We're featuring Bolivian, Peruvian, and Venezuelan flake today. Do you have a preference?"

"Can we get a blend?" Mindy asked her.

"You can get anything you want," was the answer.

"I want a blend," Mindy said.

"I'll uh... have the same," Jake replied, wondering if there was some advantage to blending varieties of coke.

"No blend for me," Pauline said with a giggle. She was obviously starting to get into the experience. "I want Bolivian for the left nostril and Peruvian for the right."

"As you wish," the waitress replied. She headed off to the bar.

"The minimum bet is a hundred," Mindy told them, "but that's for pussies as far as I'm concerned." With that she dropped a purple chip down on the circle. "Oh, and no card counting in here. Its kind of easy for them to catch it, isn't it, hon?"

"I'm sure none of you would do something like that," the dealer replied.

"Just stick to basic strategy," Mindy said. "It's a slight house advantage, that's true, but I've walked out of here with almost a hundred grand before." She giggled. "Of course, I've also walked out of here missing nearly a quarter mil."

Mindy and the dealer shared a laugh at this. Jake and Pauline both began to look a little nervous however. They both put down black chips.

"Pussies," Mindy said with kind contempt.

Over the next hour they drank four potent drinks apiece and snorted four lines of potent, uncut cocaine. Mindy was a skillful and nerveless player, increasing her bets with every win to the point she was plopping down the thousand dollar chips two at a time. Her pile of chips grew from fifteen grand to more than sixty. Pauline was much more conservative with her betting, and not quite as skillful a player, but luck seemed to be with her. When she would hit on sixteen, the dealer would plop down a five or a four. When she would stand on seventeen with the dealer showing a ten, the dealer's down card would be four and the next hit would break her. She was up by more than ten thousand.

"Come on, sis," Mindy chided her companionably every time she plunked down another hundred-dollar chip, or, when she was feeling particularly daring, two or three of them. "Get some balls on you. Throw down one of them yellows."

Pauline, however, could not quite bring herself to plop down a thousand dollar chip on a turn of the cards. Not yet anyway.

Jake was the loser of the group. Though he fancied himself well versed in basic blackjack strategy nothing seemed to be going his way. When he would hit on a fourteen with the dealer showing a face card, it seemed inevitable that he would receive a face card as well. When he would stand on eighteen with the dealer showing a three, she would flip up a seven and then toss down a nine to go with it. Even though he was sticking to one and two hundred dollar bets, he was quickly down almost ten grand.

"I'm gonna go play some craps," he finally said, standing and gathering his remaining chips. "Anyone want to join me?"

"I will," said Bill, who had just come in and received his own share of chips. He was looking like he was in a fine mood.

"All right, Nerdly," Jake said. "Let's do it. Do you know how to play?"

Bill scoffed at him. "Of course I know how to play," he said. "Craps is the one game in the entire casino where it's mathematically possible to negate the house advantage down to even odds."

Everyone stared at him for a moment. Jake finally clapped him on the shoulder. "Does this guy know how to fuckin' party, or what?"

They partied on, drinking, snorting, and gambling while music played endlessly from the overhead sound system. Bill, putting down purple chips one and two at a time, playing the pass and don't pass lines exclusively, and utilizing a system that Jake couldn't even begin to guess at, stayed safely within three thousand dollars of his original fifteen grand. Jake tried playing the odds a little and quickly lost the remnants of his first fifteen grand. Mindy simply blew him a kiss and signed him out another fifteen thousand. She and Pauline, meanwhile, remained at the blackjack table, now sitting companionably together and giggling like old friends. Pauline's luck took a turn for the worse and she whittled away her stake on a series of poorly thought-out plays. Mindy signed her out another fifteen grand as well.

Before they knew it, it was six o'clock in the evening. Mindy suggested it was time for dinner. They were led to a private dining area two floors down and served a huge meal of filet mignon, cracked Alaskan crab legs, artichokes, spinach salad, and a bottle of 1969 Cabernet Sauvignon that went down smooth as silk. For dessert there was Cappuccino Chocolate Mousse Roulade. All were served by well-dressed, attentive wait staff who said little.

"Well," Mindy asked, as she lit her after-meal cigarette and sipped from her water, "what do you think? Do they know how to treat you in Vegas?"

Everyone had to agree that they certainly knew how to treat people.

"Do you know what I like about it?" Jake asked, his head reeling with alcohol and cocaine, his spirits unsurprisingly quite high.

"What's that?" Mindy asked, her hand caressing his thigh.

"Not a single person has asked me for my autograph, or told me how great they think my music is, or told me I was going to hell as a sinner, or even tried sidling up to me so they could tell their friends about it. They're catering to me without seeming to care who I am."

"Everyone who works in the VIP portion of the casino has been instructed on how to act," Mindy said. "They are expected to be friendly, efficient, and discreet."

"Discreet?" Bill asked. "Does that mean they will not give reports to the press about our presence here? Or about the things we did here?"

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," Mindy said. "That's the prime directive of the VIP staff. It has to be that way or we wouldn't come here and gamble a hundred grand at a time. The casino wouldn't even admit we were guests here, let alone what we did here. And if any of the staff leaked anything to a reporter, security would investigate with everything they had until they found the leaker and fired him or her."

"So Nerdly's mom won't hear about two hookers he had up in his room?" Jake asked.

Mindy laughed and Bill blushed.

"No," Mindy replied. "His mom won't hear about it."

"You had two hookers up in your room?" Pauline asked him. "You? William Michael Archer? Computer nerd and piano geek who was so shy you once threw up when you accidentally walked in on me in the bathroom?"

Bill blushed even darker. It was well known by both Kingsley siblings (as well as their parents) that Bill had always had a crush on the unobtainable Pauline, a crush that had started at roughly the age of four and continued probably to this day.

"When was that?" Mindy wanted to know.

"When he was about twelve," Pauline said, laughing at the memory. "I was sixteen. His mom had come over to visit our mom and had brought Bill along. I went in to go pee and must've forgot to lock the door. Bill forgot to knock and came walking right in on me." She laughed harder and had to take a moment to get herself under control. "You should've seen the look on his face. It was just like he'd seen the birth of the universe and the face of God all in one glance. And then he started to tremble all over and threw up in the sink."

"Wow, that must be some puss you have," Mindy said. She turned to Bill. "Did you get to see her bush?"

"Can we change the topic of conversation to something less discomforting?" Bill pleaded. "How about Grenada? I hear our troops will be coming home by December."

"Oh fuck Grenada," Mindy said. "Let's hear about Pauline's bush."

"Uh, actually," Jake said, "the subject of my sister's bush is a bit disconcerting for me as well."

"Oh you prude," Mindy admonished. "What's the matter? Didn't you ever get to see it?"

"Mindy, Jesus," Jake said, blushing a little himself now. Of course he had seen it on a few occasions during their teen years — growing up in a household where modesty was only loosely encouraged made that inevitable — but the memory certainly didn't have the lustful power over his masturbation fantasies that the one brief glimpse Bill had gotten had over his, even to this day.

"There's nothing interesting about my bush," Pauline said wistfully. "Except maybe the cobwebs in it."

"Been a while since you got hosed down, huh?" Mindy asked sympathetically.

"Oh, it's an old story," Pauline said. "All work and no play means no play, if you know what I mean."

"Well let's get you laid," Mindy said. "How about that craps dealer? I saw you giving him the eye. He'll clean your cobwebs out for you."

Pauline laughed, shaking her head. "He is kind of cute," she said.

"Damn straight he is," Mindy said. "Everyone who works the VIP room is cute. It's a requirement."

"So what do I do? Just go up to him and say, 'excuse me, Mr. Handsome Craps Dealer, but I find you attractive and would like you to lay me'?"

"Actually," Mindy said, "you go to the pit boss and let him know that you're interested and he'll make the arrangements for you."

Everyone laughed for a moment until they realized that Mindy was not joking.

"Wait a minute," Pauline said. "You're serious about this?"

"I don't joke about cobweb clearing," Mindy said. "If you want the craps dealer, he's yours. At least if you catch him before he goes off shift. If that happens you'll have to pick someone from the night shift."

"You mean everyone who works in the VIP room is a... a... prostitute?" Pauline asked, both shocked and aroused by this thought.

"No, they're not prostitutes," Mindy said. "At least not in the strict sense of the word. But one of the unwritten requirements for working in the VIP rooms is that you make yourself available for the customers if they request it. Everyone who accepts the position understands this and accepts it."

"Are you serious?" Jake asked, feeling his own mixture of discomfort and intrigue.

"Uh... does this mean that the women are available as well?" asked Bill, who had been eyeing the cocktail waitress all night.

"This is just too weird," said Pauline.

"Nothing weird about it," Mindy said. "It's part of the high-roller services. Of course, there is some etiquette involved. That's where the pit boss comes in. You ask him to ask the person or persons you're interested in if they would mind joining you in your suite for a drink later. He then forwards the request to them and they say yes."

"What if they don't say yes?" Pauline asked.

Mindy smiled. "That doesn't happen," she said. "Trust me."

Jake was thinking that Mindy knew an awful lot about this particular high-roller service. How many times had she been here? How many times had she used such services? Obviously she'd used them enough to know the ins and outs of it.

Pauline, meanwhile, was shaking her head. "Sorry," she said, "that's just not me. I'm a respected corporate lawyer. I can't see myself asking a pit boss to arrange for some stud to come up to my room with me."

"You want me to do it for you then?" Mindy asked.

"No," she said firmly. "It's just not my style."

"Vegas is all about changing your style," Mindy said. "That's why they call it Sin City. And no one will find out. Remember, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"No," Pauline said, with something that sounded like conviction. "It's just too weird for me. I'll get my cobwebs cleaned out the natural way."

Mindy shrugged. "Well let me know if you change your mind," she told her.

The subject changed to something neutral and about fifteen minutes later they went back to the casino to do more gambling. They weren't there thirty minutes before Bill went to the pit boss and held a short conversation with him. The pit boss then went to the buxom cocktail waitress and held a short conversation with her. He then went back to Bill and conversed even more. Five minutes later the cocktail waitress and Bill were leaving the casino together.

"Ahh, young love," Mindy said, gleaming at them. "Isn't it a beautiful thing?"

Jake was sitting next to her at the blackjack table, his pile of chips slowly shrinking down under a fresh onslaught of bad luck. Pauline was over at the craps table, rolling the dice under the watchful eye of the young stud Mindy had offered to get for him. "I can't believe you were trying to get my sister to hook up with that guy," he said, keeping his voice low so the blonde dealer couldn't hear it.

Mindy simply shrugged. "I'm just trying to get her to take advantage of all the services the casino has to offer."

"Yes," Jake said, "but this is my sister. Don't you understand how weird that is?"

"No, actually I don't," she said. "But you might as well get used to the idea. She'll be over here soon to ask me to make the arrangements for her."

"She will not," Jake said. "You don't know who you're talking about here."

"I think maybe you don't know who we're talking about here. I give her fifteen more minutes."

As it turned out, Mindy was wrong. It actually took twenty-four minutes and the consumption of two more drinks and two more lines of cocaine before Pauline came strolling over, her gait just a bit unsteady. "All right," she said, wafting her scotch scented breath in Mindy's face, "I think I'll try it. Can you talk to the pit boss for me?"

"Pauline," Jake said, "have you thought about this?"

"It's all I have been thinking about," she replied. "What's the protocol here? Do I tip him afterward, or what?"

"No," Mindy said. "His VIP room salary is compensation enough for these special services. Tipping implies he's a common gigolo, which he isn't."

"Wait a minute," Jake said. "Pauline, you're not seriously going to do this, are you?"

"Oh look who's talking," she said, a hint of anger in her voice. "I'm getting a morality lecture from a man who snorts cocaine out of a girl's ass."

"I thought you said you didn't do that," Mindy said, turning to him.

"I didn't," Jake hissed, shooting a furious look at his sister.

"Oh... sorry," she said with a giggle. "Of course you didn't. Forget I said that." She turned back to Mindy. "So, are you gonna talk to the man, or what?"

She stood up, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll talk to the man," she said.

She talked to the man. Two minutes later Pauline left the casino on the arm of the handsome craps dealer.

"All right then," Mindy said when she returned. "That just leaves the two of us."

"Yep," Jake agreed, his mood still a little sour at the thought of his sister getting pounded by an ambiguously labeled male prostitute.

Mindy leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Why don't we pick one out for you now?"

His eyes widened as he looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me quite well," she whispered. "Which one? I've seen you eyeing our dealer. How about her?"

Jake looked up at the dealer, who had laid out their latest hands and was patiently waiting for them to pick up their cards. "Will you excuse us for just a minute?"

"Of course," she said.

Jake stood and dragged Mindy over to the corner of the room. "What are you trying to do?" he asked her.

"I'm trying to get you some pussy," she said. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"You want me to have sex with another woman?" he asked.

Her eyes took on a certain shine. "Yes," she said. "I want you to fuck the shit out of another woman."

"Why, Mindy?" he asked. "Are you going to be getting a stud for yourself?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm going to be up in our room with you... watching you fuck her."

"You want to watch me fuck another woman?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm a bit of a voyeur, Jake, in case you haven't figured that out. It would turn me on tremendously to watch your cock sliding in and out of another girl's pussy."

Jake shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said.

"You don't have to believe it," she responded. "Just do it. Now which one will it be? The blonde dealer? Or do you prefer the new cocktail waitress they sent in to replace Bill's squeeze? She's pretty hot too."

"Mindy, you're telling me to be unfaithful to you. You're encouraging it."

"Faithful?" she scoffed. "Jesus Christ, Jake, we're not married. You're going to be heading out on tour soon. Are you trying to tell me you were planning on staying celibate all those months? That you weren't going to be sinking your cock into any of those groupies?"

"Well..." he started, unsure how to answer that. In truth, he hadn't really thought too much about that. When he did, it was always with the assumption that he and Mindy would be broken up by then anyway.

"Remember, Jake," she said, leaning in and sliding her tongue along his neck in a way she knew turned him on tremendously, "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Now which one?"

He picked the blonde blackjack dealer. Mindy was right, he had been ogling her the entire day. She led him over to the pit boss, insisting he come with her so he could see how the ritual was performed.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asked politely when they approached.

"Yes," Mindy said. "As a matter of fact there is. Mr. Kingsley is quite taken with that young blackjack dealer who has been putting down the cards for us."

"Ahh, I can certainly understand that," he replied. "Her name is Alisha. She's a fine dealer."

"Yes she is," Mindy agreed. "Very fine. Do you suppose you could ask Alisha if she would be willing to accompany us up to our room so we could enjoy her companionship in a less formal setting?"

"I will ask," the pit boss agreed. With that, he walked over to her and held a brief conversation.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Mindy?" Jake asked.

She smiled, unbuttoning her shorts and unzipping them, paying no attention to the dealers and cocktail servers in the room. She took his hand and pushed it down the front of her shorts.

"Mindy," he started.

"Feel me," she told him, sidling a little closer, pushing her breasts into his arm.

He licked his lips and pushed his fingers downward, across her smoothly shaven pubis to her vaginal lips, which were hot, swollen, and extremely wet.

"You feel how wet I am?" she asked him.

"Yes," he muttered, feeling the usual lust beginning to course through his body.

"So do you think I'm sure about this?"

"I guess you are," he replied.

The pit boss came back. He did an admirable job of pretending not to notice that Jake's hand was down Mindy's pants.

"Alisha would be honored to join you in your room," he told them.

"And we would be honored to have her," Mindy said. "Can you have her bring a deck of cards up with her?"

Alisha played her part well. She feigned shyness and uncertainty as they went upstairs in the elevator and then became giggly and seductive after Roberto set her up with a drink and two lines of cocaine.

"Thank you, Roberto," Mindy told him. "You can go now. Leave us a little of that wonderful cocaine and we'll make our own drinks from here on out."

"As you wish," Roberto said, departing with a smile and a bow.

"You ever play strip poker?" Mindy asked Alisha once he was gone.

She giggled again. "Maybe once or twice," she said.

"Up for a game with Jake and I?"

"I'm up for just about anything," she said.

Jake did much better at strip poker than he had at blackjack. This was not so much because of a turn in his luck as it was the fact that the two females seemed to be deliberately losing. Mindy's blouse and shorts went in the first ten minutes. Jake lost his shirt (to the appreciative whistles of both girls) and then Alisha lost her pants, shirt, and bra.

"Nice," was all Jake could say after getting his first look at those huge, natural breasts he had been ogling all night.

"Thank you," Alisha responded, her shy persona coming forth as she dropped the brassiere to the floor.

Mindy's bra came next and then her panties, leaving her completely naked and exposed. "I guess I'm out," she said. "Now you two play to the death."

It didn't take much longer. Jake lost the next hand and sacrificed his pants. Alisha lost the next and there went her underwear. She stood up to take them off, revealing a neatly trimmed bush of hair that was considerably darker than that on her head.

"What now?" she asked coyly as the underwear hit the floor.

"Now," Mindy said, "I guess we should give a little reward to the winner, shouldn't we?"

"That would only seem proper," Alisha agreed.

The reward was an agonizingly slow double blowjob. They had him remove his underwear and sit on the table before them. They then took turns sucking his cock, each one mouthing it for thirty or forty seconds before passing it over. After ten minutes of this constant stop and start treatment he was trembling with unfulfilled need, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Mindy sensed when he was at the end of his string and stood up from her latest round of slurping and sucking, her hand still gripping him.

"I think he needs to come, Alisha," she said, her hand moving slowly up and down upon him.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mindy said. "I think he needs to come all over those big titties of yours."

That was exactly what he needed to do. Mindy jacked him faster and faster while Alisha positioned herself before him, squeezing and palpating her orbs to provide visual stimulation. It was less than a minute before he was spurting all over her.

"Now he needs to recharge," Mindy said sadly as she removed her semen soaked hands from his member. "Whatever shall we do while we're waiting for that?"

"I don't know," Alisha responded, her hazel eyes looking adoringly at Mindy's naked body. "I guess we'll have to think of something."

Mindy smiled apologetically. "You like girls, do you?" she asked her.

Alisha nodded enthusiastically. "I like them a lot," she said.

"Unfortunately," Mindy told her, "I don't. At least not in the way you're thinking."

"Oh," Alisha said, somewhat taken aback.

"However, I do like the feel of a woman's hands on me," she said. "Would you like to put your hands on me, Alisha?"

"Oh yes," she said, the sincerity in her voice unmistakable. "I'd love it, Mindy. Can I?"

"Let's go to the bedroom," Mindy said.

They went to the bedroom, Jake trailing behind them. He sat in a chair and watched as Mindy lay on her back on the large bed and Alisha proceeded to feel and stroke and squeeze and touch every square inch of her body. She played with her nipples for more than ten minutes and then stroked her way down her smooth stomach to her hairless crotch.

"It's so beautiful," Alisha told her, gazing at it with something like worship. "Are you sure you don't want me to kiss it just a little?"

"No," Mindy told her firmly. "No girly mouths on me. That turns me off. Girly hands, however, turn me on." She spread her legs.

Alisha went to work on her, stroking her outer lips and then plunging her fingers inside. She began to harshly finger-fuck her with three fingers while her thumb spun around Mindy's clitoris. Soon Mindy was bucking and panting her way through a powerful orgasm.

Jake, watching all this, recharged fairly quickly. In fact, by the time Alisha asked if she could eat her, his cock was swollen and straining. He looked around and saw a glass tray full of lambskin condoms, provided, no doubt, by Roberto once he'd been informed Alisha would be coming upstairs with them. He tore one open and safed his weapon. Just as Mindy finished her first orgasm, he slid into Alisha's body from behind, his hands going to her breasts as he thrust in and out of her. She moaned her enthusiastic approval at this action.

There wasn't much talk the next day as the Lear Jet cruised at forty-four thousand feet on its way back to Heritage. All four of them were quite hung-over, their bodies tired, wasted, satiated. Bill was sleeping in his seat, soft snores coming from his mouth with each exhalation. He had worked his way through three hookers and two casino employees and had finally called it a night around five in the morning.

Mindy and Jake sat snuggled together on the couch, her resting her head on his shoulder, he with his arm around her.

"Did I make it up to you?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he told her, kissing her forehead. "I think we'll call it even for the time being."

They both looked over at Pauline, who was looking out the window at the scenery far below, a blank expression on her face. She had been the quietest of them, not having said more than a dozen words since breakfast. Jake was worried that she was having regrets about her trip to Sin City now that she had sobered up.

"Pauline?" he asked her.

She looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Are you... uh... doing okay?"

She gave a weak smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're not... you know... embarrassed about what happened last night, are you?" Mindy asked her.

"Embarrassed?" she asked. "Not in the least."

"Are you sure?" Jake asked.

She chuckled a little. "I'm not quite the prude you think I am, little brother," she said.

"No," he agreed. "I guess you're not. So what's eating you? Is it the hangover?"

She shook her head. "I've had worse," she said. "I guess its kind of a depression of sorts."

"Depression?" Mindy asked. "You just got laid. What's there to be depressed about?"

"It's the lifestyle I've just been exposed to," she told them. "I've just gotten a taste of what its like to be filthy, stinking rich."

"And that's depressing?" Jake asked, not following her.

"It's depressing because it's only a taste," she said. "Tomorrow I go back to my normal life. I'll file briefs and research contracts. I'll work sixty-hour weeks and get paid a relative pittance. I won't be able to fly off to Las Vegas and live like a pagan whenever I want to."

"Is that what's bothering you?" Mindy asked. "That's no problem. We'll go again. Whenever you want."

"No, you don't understand," she said. "I don't want to have to rely on Jake's girlfriend to show me that life. I want it for myself. I want it for myself and there's no way I'm going to get it for myself."

Mindy opened her mouth to say something but Jake beat her to it. "Don't be so sure about that, sis."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

He gave her a conspiratorial look. "Just an idea I have."

"What is it?"

"It's not the time right now," he said. "But I don't want to have to rely on others to get me into the high-roller section either — no offense Mindy. And I think you'll be a great help when its time to make that move towards independence."

She hounded him about what he was talking about for the next twenty minutes. Mindy — her curiosity piqued — hounded him as well. But he would say no further on the subject. The vague plan he held in his head was only starting to form. It was enough to know that Pauline would be open to helping him with it. He sure as hell was going to need her.