Robert Vickers - Hooker housewife

"Sorry, Duke. All I want's my money from Thompson. I really don't want to get too involved in this scene."

"Part-timer, huh? Well, the offer stands if you want to go full time. Give me a call at 325-6969 if you change your mind. A tight cunt like yours is too good to waste, you know?"

Denise smiled wanly, then rose and found Thompson's trousers. She rustled through them until she found the man's fat wallet. Since he was still sleeping, she pulled out four one-hundred dollar bills, then tucked the wallet back into the pocket. She found her clothes and quickly dressed.

In less than fifteen minutes, Denise was going out the gambler's front door to summon a cab.

But the memory of Duke's offer lingered in her mind. She was repulsed by the very idea of having anyone pimp for her, and yet Denise had to admit she was flattered.

It wasn't every day a girl got told she was hot stuff.

Denise went back to the casino with her hard-earned money. She was sore, and her ass ached like it had been through a war. In a manner of speaking, Denise had been the route. She was constantly at war with her outmoded morals.

The more she saw and experienced, the more she realized that she had been living in a sexual ghetto. She had been depriving herself of some fantastic experiences by staying with Ray. Screwing Clark had not broadened her horizons that much.

Since coming to Vegas, she had her lovely white ass. And Wendy, cute, winsome little Wendy and her lesbian ways had turned Denise on more than she cared to admit.

The change was good for her. She figured that she might try hooking for a while longer. She certainly couldn't complain about the money. There was simply no way she could have earned as much bread in such a short time. There wasn't any other profession that would net her four hundred dollars for an afternoon's "work".

And she hardly considered fucking as work. It was too damn much fun to think of it as work!

Denise strayed into the big gambling area of the Stellar. She saw little old ladies stuffing coins into the slot machines, then walked to one of the machines and watched for a few minutes. There was something hypnotic about watching the wheels spin, then click into place before spilling out a handful of coins.

One woman seemed to be playing six machines at the same time, taking them in rotation. Denise was fascinated seeing the lady go from one, then to the next. The thought crossed the brunette's mind that this could be just as vicious a job as any eight to five rat race.

On impulse, Denise pulled out a quarter and waited for the woman to move to the next machine in her row.

Denise inserted the coin and pulled the lever. The wheels spun – and so did the woman.

With a feral snarl, the woman snapped, "Get away from my machines, you bitch!"

Denise watched the first wheel click. A bar was exposed in the small window on the machine.

"Lady, this is a public casino, and I have as much right to play these slots as you do. So bug off." The second wheel stopped and came up a bar. The woman's face turned red as the last wheel clicked into place. A third bar came up and set off flashing lights and bells to signal a large jackpot. Denise had won fifty dollars on her single quarter.

The woman glaring at her was absolutely livid with rage.

As Denise collected her winnings, the woman mumbled under her, breath, "That shoulda been me. I was playing that machine. I got it to the payoff and this bitch steals it away from me!"

Denise laughed heartily as she walked to the crap table. She observed several passes and a considerable amount of money being lost. Denise remembered Thompson's poor luck with the dice and decided to try something else.

If she could run the four-hundred – four-fifty, she corrected herself – into a nice, big stake, she could get out of town and try to find a good job somewhere else.

The roulette wheel seemed to attract her like a magnet, draws iron. She went to the spinning wheel and watched a couple of tourists pull in a stack of two-dollar chips. They had won just as she had that first time around with Clark.

Denise momentarily thought of Clark. Had he gone back home to his wife? Did he even regret leaving her stranded like he had? Denise doubted it. Clark was a real bastard.

Denise started playing the roulette wheel. Cautiously at first, then with growing desperation as her bankroll diminished. In less than an hour, she had lost all of her money through wild bets and taking risks with big payoffs that had little chance of ever happening.

Dejected, Denise made her way to the bar. She glanced around and found that Liz had gone off duty. It was just as well. Denise didn't want to hassle with the bitchy waitress.

She ordered a vodka collins and sat sipping at it. Soon, the tasteless vodka had begun to warm her belly and alter her outlook on life. Things weren't really all that bad, she decided. She could still pick up some idiot who had more money than good sense. She could give him a ride that would make it worth his while.

After three or four of the deceptive drinks, Denise was well on her way to being drunk again. She couldn't taste the alcohol and figured there would be little effect on her system.

When the meek little man approached her, she was less cautious than she should have been. She never noticed a well-dressed man in a corner booth intently studying her.

The diminutive man timidly asked, "Pardon me, Miss. Is this chair taken?"

He hesitantly motioned to the seat next to her.

"No," Denise told him, "go ahead and sit down. What's yer name?"

She didn't even notice the slight slurring to her words due to the booze she had drunk so fast.

"I… uh… my name's Wally." The man emitted a little squeak that might have been a laugh.

"Wally? Jolly Wally, my name's Denise. How's about me showing you a real fine time, huh?"

The man's eyes widened slightly. He bounced his head up and down vigorously.

"S'all right, then, let's you and me get up to your room." Denise bent over and whispered in his ear, "Since I like your looks, Jolly, I'll only make it fifty. Okay?"

The man's head seemed to bounce up and down even more vigorously. He managed to croak out, "Fine with me!"

They stood and left, unaware of the sandy haired man in the corner booth watching them.

Denise had to support herself on the man as they went to the elevator. Denise noticed that Wally's arm was far stronger than she would have suspected just looking at his mousy exterior. He looked more like an accountant, but he had the muscles of someone used to hard physical labor.

As they weaved across the floor, Denise cried out, "Hey, Wally, Jolly old man, let's give the slots one whirl to see how they go! What do you say about that?"

Before the man could say anything at all, Denise crossed to a slot machine and stuffed a quarter into the slot. She yanked down on the arm and wheels spun. A lemon came up and cheated her of any winnings. Another coin was tossed into the maw of the one armed bandit. Denise had still another loss.

Wally tugged insistently at Denise's elbow. He wanted to go up to his room – that much was obvious.

"What? Oh, hell! Yeah, Jolly, you're so right, yes sir! Right on. I almost forgot where we were headed."

Denise laughed drunkenly as she saw the silly grin split Wally's face. He seemed to be entirely teeth, all gleaming white.

She entirely missed the slight leer that might have warned her of what was to come.

Wally guided her down the hallway of the fifth floor until they came to the end. He fumbled for his key as be told Denise, "This is a special room. It's all the way down the hall and any from everyone. No disturbances. No one can hear anything that goes on down here, either. It's a nice room. I'm sure you'll like it. I like it a whole lot and ask for it everytime I come to Las Vegas."