Robert Vickers - Hooker housewife

Finally, spent and tired, Conrad slowly stopped his frenetic fucking. Ali too soon, his cock deflated to limply dribble out of Denise's cunt amid a flow of cum and cunt juice.

"You're really something," he said to Denise. "I like a pro that gets off an her work."

Denise mumbled a few words that Conrad didn't understand. She was too busy studying the scene in the mirror overhead and enjoying the feel of the satin under her shoulders and ass.

Denise glanced at the naked man kneeling between her still widely spread legs.

She said, "You're not so bad yourself."

Conrad awkwardly disengaged himself from his position between her creamy smooth thighs. He walked over to his pants and pulled out his wallet.

"Fifty bucks?" he asked.

Denise was confused. "What's that?"

"I said, is fifty bucks your going rate? I'll toss in another ten because you're such a hot one." He pulled out a fifty and a ten and tossed them on top of Denise's discarded dress.

"What the hell do you think I am?" the woman stormed, realizing that he thought she was a whore.

"Look," Conrad said, menace in his voice, "you're not going to shake me down for any more than that. You're a damn good lay but not worth any hundred bucks. Take the money and get the hell out of here."

Denise sat on the sumptuous bed for a moment considering her position. She was broke and abandoned in Las Vegas. Clark had dumped her and left for good. All her money was gone. And now Conrad was giving her sixty bucks for fucking.

In spite of her in-bred morals, she silently dressed, took the money and left. It wasn't right to take money for fucking, but there was no doubt that she'd need the bread. Denise decided she would consider this a loan and pay Conrad back whenever she managed to get some legitimate money.

Denise left Conrad's room without even a glance behind her. She was confused and bewildered. She had done something she considered evil and yet…

Was it so bad? There was no way of getting around the fact that she was in a bad fix. She needed money now that Clark had dumped her. And there was no way she could go crawling back to Ray. She would have to beg and plead and humiliate herself.

The more Denise thought about how easy it was to make the sixty dollars, the less guilty she felt about it. Hadn't she been fucking Clark for over a month? And what did she really get out of it? A lot of heartache and not much else.

The trip to Vegas would have been the first real thing besides getting balled that Clark had come through with. And at the first instant he had abandoned her.

Denise's mouth firmed to a thin line. She'd show them. She'd show them all that she could get along all right without their help.

She went back to the bar, still a little tipsy from all the alcohol she had put into her system earlier. The fantastic fucking on the satin sheets had burned most of the booze from her brain, but enough remained to make her a little wobbly.

The waitress came back and, sarcasm dripping from her voice, said, "How was it, kid? Was the hick a good screw?"

Denise looked up and squarely faced the waitress. Her voice was low when she said, "He was a damn good lay. Probably better than any you've had – if a loud-mouthed bitch like you gets any at all!"

The waitress started to retort when a raucous laugh cut her off. She turned and saw a burly man approaching.

He was dressed in a very expensive suit. His gait was confident like a man used to commanding – and being obeyed instantly.

He pushed a wave of dark-brown hair out of his eyes as he said, "Sounds like she's got you pegged, Liz. Why don't you buzz off and annoy someone else? This chick's too far out of your league."

As the waitress turned to go, the man coldly said, "And bring us two drinks."

The waitress looked back over her shoulder, sheer hatred masking her features, but she said nothing as she stalked off.

"My name's Thompson," he said without preamble as he sat down beside Denise in the boot.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Thompson."

The man chuckled. "Not mister… not for you, good looking. Just Thompson. I don't like complicated names." It was apparent he was asking what hers was.

Denise told him, then asked, "Why did you bother to come to bat for me? You could have let that bitch chew me up all she wanted. I'm nothing to you."

"No trouble at all, Denise. I don't like Liz, and she don't much like me, either. See, I dumped her a month or two ago because she's got such a big mouth."

"Haven't you, Liz?" The waitress had returned with their drinks and had been eavesdropping.

The man tossed a hundred-dollar bill to Liz and said, "Keep the change. You can probably use it, what with your nickel and dime customers." Thompson laughed as Liz snatched up the bill and left.

"She looks like she could get pretty mean."

"Liz? Damn right, she can. But I can get even nastier, and she knows it. Hell, I've walked over tougher ones than her in my day."

Denise studied the man. He was an odd combination of sophistication and crudeness. She asked, "What's your business?"

He didn't hesitate as he answered, "Broads." Seeing the look on her face, Thompson laughed and added, "I'm a gambler by trade. Broads are just a hobby."

Denise hadn't missed the roll of large denomination bills or the fact that he had paid Liz a hundred for drinks that cost only four dollars.

"Gee, I don't know much about gambling. Would you like to show me some of the games?"

Thompson looked at her, then smirked, "Sure. Why not? I know plenty of games, and I'll just bet you know a couple yourself, eh?"

They left the bar and went to the crap table. Thompson managed to lose over two thousand before quitting.

"Just not my day with the ivory cubes. Let's try some baccarat. Now that's a game!"

Denise was confused with the dealing of the cards and the odd "shoe" that contained the decks of cards, but it was quickly apparent that Thompson was at home with the high-stakes game. In less than fifteen minutes, he had his two thousand back and was five hundred dollars ahead. He looked at the pile and sighed.

It was obvious that Thompson wanted to continue, but had other things on his mind. Lady luck wasn't the only game in town. Not when he had a sexy chick hanging on his elbow waiting to be fucked.

Denise looked at him with admiration glowing in her brown eyes. "That's super! I didn't understand much of the game with all those banks and things, but you're good!"

"In more ways than one, baby, in more ways than one. How about coming to my place for a little drink, eh?"

His intent was clear, and Denise realized that the man might be very generous if she put out for him.

It repulsed her, and yet it attracted her. Fucking for money seemed wrong, but what else could she do? She had no other skills but her body.

And Thompson seemed like a nice enough guy.

"Okay, high roller, lead on!"

He took her by the arm and they went outside.

He handed the car keys to the doorman along with a fifty-dollar bill. In a few minutes, a Mercedes 450SL rolled up.

Denise caught her breath at the sight of the expensive car. "Is that yours?"

"Sure is. Paid cash after I had some luck with the nags. Get in and let's roll!"

Thompson's apartment was as lavish as his car. Denise was immediately taken by the expensive furnishings and the obvious cost of the entire pad.

Thompson explained, "When I got money, I spend it. Like what you see around here?"

Denise was momentarily speechless. When she turned to face the gambler, she was caught by surprise. He had dropped his pants and was holding onto a massive hard-on.

Denise's chocolate-brown eyes were riveted to the quivering, jerking rod sprouting from Thompson's crotch. His cock was an ugly red with a purple head that seemed to cry out to the woman, "Spread 'em!"