In almost every respect, I'm an ordinary thirty-seven-year-old guy, tall but not too tall, good looking but a chiseled jaw short of handsome. I've got my health but not much wealth. I'm just to the right side of being a median average male.

My job is as a curator at a natural history museum in California. My passion is digging for fossils in places no one would visit unless they are a scientist or deranged. Come to think of it, the two are synonymous. Who else would hike four miles into the wilderness with fifty pounds on their back, camp, battle bugs the size of footballs, and take a shit among rattlesnakes? I love my job but it's as isolated as being in solitary confinement. I mean, women are as rare as Tyrannosaurus bones.

They occasionally let me out of the museum on good behavior. It's not often but it's a chance to greet the real world. That real world is in Las Vegas. Wait! That's not the real world either. I like to go there because I'm good with numbers. I've been good with numbers since the third grade and as an undergrad wrote a paper on probability theory. I know the odds. They're not good if you are an average gambler. They improve slightly if you know a little arithmetic, but not by much.

Oh yes, one more thing. I like women, the women in Nevada. Despite my profession's celibacy, women are the second feature in my getting lucky fantasy. They usually cost me a week's pay and I'm not talking about the hoes. Mostly, women on vacation want to be wined and dined. Maybe that's what they mean by gambling and women don't mix. I don't mind if I can get laid. Most of the gals coming to Vegas are out to have a good time so that can include a mambo on the mattress.

The truth is, winning at the tables and scoring with women are mostly about luck but not entirely. As Louis Pasteur wrote, chance favors the prepared mind, so I double up on being prepared.

First, in the field, I look like Indiana Jones but that costume isn't good salesmanship in Vegas. The James Bond, 007, look works better. A winning smile is equally important. Many women wouldn't give you a second look in the city but in Vegas, the rules change. An appealing smile means more in Sin City. I pursue smiles with the same dedication as searching for fossils.

Oh, another thing about preparation, money. Smiles and Bond don't sell nearly as well as a thick wallet. That's where I'm a little light.

So, on one of the days when the dice weren't rolling my way and the cards and wheel were conspiring against me, a woman with voluptuous tits was working the craps table with some success. As for me, I tried unsuccessfully to avoid looking down her blouse. It's an old habit and hard to break.

She had rolled three consecutive sevens and hit her point four times within a half hour. It wasn't just her enthusiasm that kept my eyeballs entertained. Each time she won, the lady would jump up and down making her unencumbered boobs bounce. When she reached down to place a bet, her tits nearly fell out of her low cut blouse. She loved the attention. I liked giving it to her.

It was time for me to make a bet with her. She rolled the dice. We both lost. That was her cue to pick up her chips and leave. I stayed for a while longer hoping to cash in on her luck. It didn't work out.

Lady luck was sitting at the bar when I left the room heading for dinner. She sat with a fat guy wearing Bermuda shorts that looked like a brightly colored patchwork quilt. His head was as bald as a billiard ball and his fat legs dangled over the side of a stool that struggled to hold him. He was trying to talk with her. She was trying to be polite without showing interest. He wasn't getting the message.

As I approached them, she looked at me and said, "Oh darling, where have you been? I won, I won, I won. I can't believe it. I won!" she beamed. "How have you done, dear?"

I got the message. "Oh, okay. I broke even," the cliché everyone who loses uses.

She followed her act with, "Honey, buy me a drink."

The fat man slunk away believing I was her husband. I figured it might be worth being her surrogate husband for one night and said, "Hey, how about you treating, ah, dear. You got the money, honey!"

I sat down next to her and ordered a Manhattan. It tasted like embalming fluid. Maybe I wasn't in the mood. She was drinking a daiquiri.

"Look, fella," she said, "you catch on pretty quick. I appreciate you going along with me on this. The guy was a bore. It might even be worth a dinner to you."

"I could use a little charity after the day I've had."

"They're not treating you well at the tables?" she asked.

"Let's say that the house has been greedy."

"Too bad," she said in a way that didn't sound too sympathetic.

We talked and ordered a second drink. She was a nice lady, had a nice smile, had a nice purr to her voice.

The Manhattans and her purr made me feel a lot better. We took our third drink with us and waltzed across the street to an all you can eat buffet. She was into seafood. I loaded up on ribs and onion rings. We went Dutch.

It was well past eleven thirty that night when we finished eating and returned to the bar. The daiquiris made her talkative. For the next hour, I heard her life story. I listened. She was recently divorced with three kids. She called herself Flora for Florence. We got along. Flora asked, "Mind seeing me home?"

I asked, "Where's home?"

"Upstairs." I was delighted to escort Flora to her room.

The double bed with six pillows was comfortable. She was even more so. I had never fucked a woman with breasts the size of melons. My lips nuzzled her nipples. My cock found a cozy place in the valley between her mountains. Flora tit fucked like a pro. I went down on her for a nightcap. My tongue curled around her clit. She liked it. She liked it even more when I speared her cunt with a solid eight inches. We bounced around together until I came hard and deep in her pussy with a month's worth of seed. She liked that too.

"You know," Flora said, "Maybe you should tell me your name."

"I thought you'd never ask. I'm Lawrence. Friends call me Larry."

"In that case, I think I'll call you Larry."

I lit a cigarette and relaxed, too relaxed. I was sleepy. Fucking can do that to a guy. I drifted off. She didn't.

When Flora waltzed out of the bathroom, her tits swayed with each step. She had my undivided attention. Everything about her gorgeous body made me eager for round two. She was about five feet six with broad hips, a pussy shaved like a crew cut and a waist that showed a little age. Flora was still very pretty for a woman a few years older than me.

"Have you recovered, Larry?" She asked. "I could use more of what you did before, only I like it doggy."

Flora laid next to me and began playing with my balls. "You know Larry, I love the feel of a man's balls. They are so soft and supple." Then she used her mouth to emphasize the point. It took a few minutes before Flora had me hard enough to activate the dog in me. She sucked me like a straw in a milkshake until I was ready. She was on all fours when we went at it again.

I like it when a woman is filled with semen. Her fluids and mine make for a slippery slope. That's what it was like. She moaned and sobbed. I grunted and groaned. We were doing human mating calls that rose to a crescendo, ending with total silence when we collapsed entangled together. I folded her into my arms and fell asleep.

I awoke at ten the next morning, Flora was gone. She left a short note. "Thanks for a lovely evening. Good luck today." I never saw her again.

I wasn't back in Vegas for several months. As always, I was as optimistic as a fool playing the Three Card Monte. This time would be different. It was but not in a way to fatten my wallet. This time I got lucky and in a surprising way.  It was as different as vanilla is to chocolate. 

I hadn't been at the roulette table for more than an hour when a tall black woman stood next to me. She smelled like the sweet scent of jasmine. I turned to look at her magnetic smile with teeth as white as snow. "Hi, I'm Chloe. I don't know how to play this game. Would you help me learn?"

"Of course," I said and told her the basics.

With only rudimentary information, she was doing much better than I was. I cautioned her not to play a single number because of the odds. I explained how the odds worked on a single number.

She said, "Yes, but you can win more," and placed a hundred dollar chip on number thirty-six. "Today is my birthday. I'm thirty-six today. I can't lose!"

The wheel spun. The pill dropped. She screamed. She had won. It was a thirty-five to one payday. I got a big hug and a juicy kiss and she said, "Let me buy you a drink. You bring me luck."

We found a bar. It wasn't until then that I could admire the woman's ass, as wide as the Mississippi and her legs like stilts, and her breasts that swayed when she walked. She wore stiletto heels and a t-shirt that read, "I'm a MILF Birthday Girl." I was going to enjoy my drink.

She was a teacher in the Detroit area. Chloe said a few of the girls took her to Vegas to celebrate her birthday. "Look, mister, thanks for bringing me luck. I've got to catch up with my girlfriends but hey, I'm having a birthday party tonight in my room. I'm in the Fountain View King. Say ten? Don't come unless you're ready to party."

I soon would learn what she meant by a party when I arrived shortly after ten. There were a half dozen people in the room, all were men except for Chloe lying naked on a giant king size bed with two black men. One was in her mouth, the other was reaming her pussy. After a short while, the man in her cunt pulled out and was quickly replaced by the guy getting a blow job.

She turned her head to look at me. She recognized me. Why not? I was the only white guy in the room. "Hey honey, come over here. Let's see what you got." I knew what she meant but I immediately felt inadequate and intimidated when watching the guy on top of her with a cock as thick as a Polish kielbasa.

I looked around to see he wasn't alone when it came to oversized sausages. The others were as hung as him. "Come on, baby," she said, "bring it to me."

I wasn't sure but I had the feeling some of the guys had already had their turn as they relaxed with a drink in one hand and reefer in the other. One of them nodded his head toward her and said, "Go ahead. She likes all flavors." Affirmative action never sounded so good.

Although I felt out of place, it wasn't a deal breaker. I decided to go with the flow and leave my pants on the floor when I slid next to her just as the guy on top was finishing.

"Oh, oh, oh, Jamal. That was so good, babe. That felt so good."

Chloe gazed at my cock and said, "Not bad for a white guy. Let me taste it."

While she had me down her throat, one of the other men put down his drink and climbed aboard. She had her long slender legs high over his head and far apart as he banged into her. She slurped at my dick. He grunted and groaned as he pummeled her cunt finishing with a loud guttural expletive, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He pulled out with a plop and a gusher of cum rushed out of her slit leaving a nice creamy puddle on the sheets.

She put her arms around my neck and said, "Okay, my lucky charm, time to give me my birthday present. I can't go back to Detroit without men presenting me with lots of gifts. You don't even have to wrap it."

That was obvious. None of her friends came gift wrapped.

She turned over on her stomach with her lovely ass in the air in anticipation of receiving my birthday present. I was anxious to give it to her so I went all in. Giving is better than receiving but in this case, we were both giving and both receiving. Eventually, I gave her all I had deep in her cavernous vag.

I hung around for another half hour watching others being generous, sometimes two at a time.

I had nothing more to give when I left.

For the rest of that year, I was working at the museum and doing research in the field. I didn't get back to Vegas until February of the next year The weather was milder and the crowds were lighter.

On this trip, I watched a woman twice my age playing the dollar slots without the results she came for. The bandit was stingy and wasn't paying out. I had to admire her persistence. She had the patience of a saint and little to show for it. I don't play the slots. The odds are worse than tossing a ping pong ball in a jar at a carnival. And I miss pulling the lever, not buttons. Now they're too much like video games.

I waited until she moved over to sat down at the next machine. I knew better than believing the machine she left was overdue and that the odds favored me now that it's been uncharitable for so long. On a hunch or maybe delusion, I decided to contribute twenty-five bucks in the machine. Before I even put my wallet away, the wheels spun and the machine seemed to explode. I had hit the jackpot for a twenty grand payback!

Of course, it attracted a lot of attention. I was surrounded by well-wishers and congratulations. Winning gave me an odd sensation. I had never won that much money before. I was determined to enjoy it and decided to put my winnings to work. It wasn't my money, after all. It was the house's money. I loaded up on the higher denomination chips and visited tables with higher limits.

I won a bunch of hands at the blackjack table. The chips were piling up. I was getting more attention than I wanted and left for the roulette table. The stakes were higher and I put my blackjack money on red, won, let it ride, and won again. The casino security men were paying attention as was a very fine lady dressed like Princess Grace. She looked like her too.

I tried black. It didn't deliver. Then I played brown chips on red again. It paid. The Princess crept closer. Remembering my caution to a lady who won big on thirty-six several months earlier, I threw caution to the wind and put a stack of chips on thirty-six. It worked for her and it really wasn't my money anyway. This bet had only slightly better odds than playing the lottery but it was just one of those days. The croupier announced, "Thirty-six red."

I felt uncomfortable with people staring at me and went to play craps. Several elegantly dressed women were at the table. The Princess was one of them. I watched the action for a while, then placed a pass line bet. I lost and tried again. The second time was a winner and several more over the next hour. In all, I figured I now was up over a quarter million, maybe more. It was time to cash in. But first, I took a detour to the bar where the Princess was sitting with a younger woman who didn't look more than eighteen or nineteen.

She said, "Hi. You did well at the wheel." I smiled and nodded. Her breathy voice was as soft and delicate as an early winter snow shower. My throat felt a little thick and I ordered a martini. "What about you?" I asked offering to buy her a drink.

"I don't drink. It's not good for your health," as the smoke from her cigarette curled above her head.

It was when she turned to me to introduce herself that I noticed the rock hanging around her neck. The pendant was a three-karat teardrop tanzanite surrounded by diamonds. I had written a paper on tanzanite as a geology student so I knew it was worth more than my year's pay.

"My name is Victoria. This is my daughter Abigail. We like to be called Vicky and Gail," she said with a hint of a Southern accent.

"Hello, Vicky and Gail. I'm Larry."

"What do you do for a living, Larry, other than robbing the casino?" Vicky asked.

I laughed and said, "It's the casino that usually lifts my wallet. Today has been, well, like being the Count of Monte Cristo. Normally, I'm a paleontologist."

"You find dinosaurs, is that right?"

"Exactly, when we get lucky."

"My daughter, Gail, has an interest in science," Gail had blond hair like her mom's and was as beautiful. "She is here as part of the high school cheerleading competition." I believed it. She had a cheerleader's smile. "Maybe you would like to watch it tonight. Her daddy couldn't come so we have an extra ticket."

"What time?"

"It starts at six thirty but Gail's team is scheduled for eight."

"Okay, I'll try to make it by eight."

"One more thing. Applaud enthusiastically. It impresses the judges."

"Got it."

I finished my drink and went upstairs for a nap. It didn't happen. I was too excited to sleep. Finally, I got up around seven to go to dinner.

Outside was a flock of girls Gail's age fluttering around in cheerleading costumes of varying colors. Some were practicing their routines, others were flirting with men that should have known better. I found a nice quiet restaurant in the Cromwell Hotel on the corner of Flamingo and Las Vegas Boulevard. At that time, every restaurant is quiet so I nearly had the place to myself. It was a relief after the earsplitting roar of slots in the casino ringing and detonating.

After a light dinner and a beer, I found my way to the Orleans Arena where Gail's cheerleading team would compete. The place was nearly full. I found a seat and prepared to cheer as if I meant it. Vicky was at the opposite side of the arena. She spotted me and waved.

The schedule ran like a doctor's office. Nothing was on time. Gail's high school wasn't on stage until eight thirty.

The girls wore more makeup than a clown in a circus so I hardly recognized Gail. Her long wheat-colored hair gave her away. She was the tallest girl on her squad and the most athletic. Their routine was as much dance and acrobatic show than simply telling the crowd to, "Go Spartans!" It lasted only ten or twelve minutes. I hooted and howled on cue when their team finished.

The last school performed at nine. On the way out of the arena, Vicky caught up with me. "Larry, Larry," she called. "I'm so glad you came! They really did well, don't you think?"

"They were wonderful. Gail is terrific," which came across as a generic response.

She took my arm and said, "Let's go have a cup of coffee to celebrate."

"Fine although I might have something a little stronger. It's still early. Where's Gail?"

"She's out with the girls. They went for pizza then they're going bowling. She won't be back until late. Hey, Larry, maybe we can have some fun too."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Today has been pretty lucky for you. Maybe your luck hasn't run out."

"To be honest Vicky, I cashed in my chips for the day."

"I didn't mean that kind of luck, she said nervously toying with her pendant. I'm talking about the kind of luck where you don't need chips."

I blankly stared at her not comprehending for a second or two. She affectionately pressed my hand helping me understand her kind of luck. "I see. Perhaps you're right," I said. "I won't turn into a pumpkin until midnight so we have a couple of hours." I followed her up to her room.

The room radiated luxury. It was just short of a penthouse apartment. "I'll call down and have your drink brought up. What do you want?"

She called room service and ordered a double scotch for me before excusing herself heading to the bathroom. The scotch arrived before she slithered out of the bathroom still wearing her tanzanite pendant and a fine mesh baby doll, looking like a Victoria Secret model. It hid nothing of her curves. "What do you think, Larry? I picked it up today at Hustler Hollywood. I just had to have it.

I nodded my approval.

"I want to show you something else, Larry," she said handing me her cell phone. "I also got a toy that you might like. It's called a We-Vibe and it's for both of us. It even has an app so we can control it from my phone. A guy at the store installed it for me and showed me how to use it. I fit it into my vagina and turn on the app. I've already put it in!" she squealed.

I was speechless then croaked, "Okay but where do I fit in?"

"When you're ready, Larry, you fit in with the toy. I think you'll love it as much as me.

"Hey, I'm getting close to forty," she continued. "It's time to live a little while I still have something to give." She definitely had something to give.

I swallowed hard and gulped down some scotch. "This is the way it is, Larry. My husband and I have been having vanilla sex for the past few years. We don't even sleep together. He's older and not the man he was when we married. You get that, right? I want to do something exciting, something dirty."

I kept staring at her luscious body then asked, "Why did you marry him?"

Fingering the intensely blue pendant she said, "Oh, maybe because I like nice things."

"Well, Vicky, Perhaps I can give you something your husband can't." At that, she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep delicious kiss.

"The man at the toy store said we might need this," and Vicky handed me a bottle of lubricant.

After she undressed me, I took some time playing with the app. At the same time between moans, Vicky played with my balls and locked her lips around my cock. I could hear a faint hum coming from her pussy while I adjusted the settings. "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried. "Not so strong." I turned it down to the medium wave setting. That seemed to please her. "You've got to get in before the battery dies. Hurry but use a little lube first."

I slipped into her vibing vagina as she began to feel orgasm after orgasm. It was as if she didn't need my cock to pleasure her. I switched to the pulse setting that pleasured me. Maybe it pleasured me too much. I came right away.

Breathlessly she whispered, "Gosh, Larry, that was quick. This might be just what my husband needs."

I pulled out and stayed motionless. She took the cell changing the modes.

After trying several levels, Vicky said, "After you've rested, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard, Larry."

I finished my scotch before going into motion, this time without the toy, banging into her with deep strokes that satisfied us both. It wasn't the same as with her appliance but it sure satisfied us.

She was still hyperventilating when I bottomed out and shot load after a load of cum into her saturated pussy. She cried out as if she had just hit the jackpot. "Yes, yes, yes!" she yelled followed by some unladylike words that would make a dockworker cringe. "That's just what I wanted. That was great, so great!" Vicky was as good as a Carson City whore and appreciated it more than an expensive string of Mikimoto pearls.

She grabbed a couple of cigarettes from the bedside table. "Give me a light," she purred. I lit hers, then mine. We said nothing to each other for a long time. Finally, Vicky said, "You better go. Gail will be back soon. But there's one more thing, Larry. Gail starts college in the fall. Would you mind talking to her about your work? I think she needs a little encouragement about going into science. We'll be at your hotel around noon for lunch. Maybe you can get her excited about what you do. Is that alright?"

"Sure," and I left but none too soon. Gail was getting into an elevator as I stepped out of mine. I took a cab back to my hotel. The casino was quiet at ten the next morning when I went down to try my luck. I didn't do well. Yesterday's take was going to go back to California with me so I quit. Shortly after noon, Gail and her mom showed up. Vicky gave me a peck on the cheek and said, "I'm off to meet some friends for the afternoon. Give her a sales talk, Larry," and she glided out the door.

"Have you had breakfast, Gail?" I asked. She was fresher than a spring rain and was dressed in leggings that were shrink wrapped around her hips and slender legs. She wore a short-waisted top and her waist was as tiny as Scarlett's in "Gone With the Wind."

"I don't eat breakfast, Mr. Larry, but I'd like to have lunch."

We sat down at a table and ordered. She asked if I enjoyed the show last night. I said they did well. She said they came in second place.

I countered with, "So what do you like about science, Gail?".

"Oh, it's okay but that's not what I'm here for."

I pulled a face and just looked at her.

"I'm here under false pretenses, Mr. Larry."

"And what are those pretenses?" I asked.

The food arrived as she looked at her plate as if the answer was somewhere in the French fries. "Mom told me about you and her last night."

My heart skipped a beat. I said nothing for a long while. Thinking I misunderstood, I asked, "What did she say?"

"Mom said she had sex with you last night. Don't worry. It's okay. You see, Mr. Larry, Mom and I are very open about sex. We share everything. She said it was fun. She said you were good.

"She did, huh?"

"Yes. Mom said I deserved to have fun too."

"Meaning?"

"Mr. Larry, do you really think Mom is leaving us alone in order to meet with friends? She can't stand being with the other moms."

I was stunned. "So are a virgin and your mom wants me to make a woman out of you."

She giggled a girly laugh. "Not exactly, Mr. Larry. I haven't been a virgin since I was sixteen."

"How old are you now?"

"I'll be eighteen next month."

"How did it happen?"

"What happen?"

"Your first time."

"The usual way, you know with him on top."

"What was the occasion?"

"It was my boyfriend's birthday and mom thought I should give him a special present. I gave him my virginity."

"Where?"

"In my bedroom."

"Where was your mom?"

"She was in our rec room watching Judge Judy."

"How was it?"

"Judge Judy?

"Funny. How was your first time?"

"Great! Do you think I'd be here with you if I didn't like sex? The thing is, now I've learned it's better with older men like you?"

"How did you learn that?"

"Friends, like friends of my daddy. Look, this has gone far enough. Are we going to do it or not?" She was both impulsive and impetuous which was fine with me.

"Alright. I'm anxious to see how you get out of those leggings." Gail laughed sarcastically and got up from the table.

After paying for lunch, we headed to my room. It was all neat and tidy after housekeeping had straightened it up but wasn't nearly as opulent as Vicky's.  However, the room had a king size bed and that is all that was needed.

I didn't have to wait around long to watch her begin to peel off her pants. It took a while. She had plenty of legs. "You see, Mr. Larry. they're stretchy." Then she pulled her top over her head standing buck naked in front of me with a shaved pussy and small pointy teen tits. She was as fresh and pretty as a summer rose. The teenager wasn't shy and said impatiently, "What are you waiting for, Mr. Larry? Aren't you going to join me?"

I kicked off my shoes, yanked down my pants and left my shirt and socks where they were. Gail didn't need instructions. She went to her knees, looked up at me and began sucking cock. She was good at it.

"You have a nice dick, Mr. Larry." I liked the way she used her tongue going in circles around the head, licking the underside and up and down my shaft. She didn't give me a full deep throat but got most of me in her mouth. "It's my turn, Mr. Larry. Eat me out. Suck my pussy until I cum."

I went down on her enjoying her young succulent pussy. Her groans and sighs came easily as did her orgasms until she said, "I want to be on top."

Gail was as athletic in bed as she was cheerleading. She jumped on my cock like it was a pogo stick. I didn't think of asking if she was on birth control when, without warning, cum just poured out of me straight up her fuck canal. She didn't stop bouncing until she had her own climax. We both were exhausted lasting only two minutes for her.

"Let's do it doggie, Mr. Larry. I want to do it doggie."

"Sorry, dear, I need some time. Go text your friends while I catch my breath."

She sat next to me with her cell phone for fifteen or twenty minutes then said, "I'm bored. I want to do it doggie."

Gail put down her phone and started to play with my balls. "I love these sperm makers. They're so cuddly." She held them delicately like they were the Crown Jewels while fondling my trembling erection. She squeezed my cock as if she was wringing out a few more drops of precum that were endlessly drooling out of the tip of my dick. Then she turned on her hands and knees. "Put it in, Mr. Larry. Stick it all the way in."

I sunk my cock into her tight pussy for a second time and fucked her doggie for a while, then she changed her mind and wanted it missionary. "Suck my tits and fuck me hard, really hard," she demanded.

I didn't need the encouragement. I was frantic with lust and pounded into her. "Ah, ah, ah," she cried. "Oh my god, oh my god," she repeated. I could tell she liked it best when my full length was pushing her up to her cervix. "Come in my mouth, Larry. I want to taste your hot creamy cum."

We seemed to be thinking alike. I was more than ready to explode and moved to her lips. She sucked me in and I responded by coating her tonsils with four or five cum shots. "Mmmm, yum. It's so yummy," she squealed.

By then, it was two thirty in the afternoon and I figured the party was over. It wasn't.

I needed a time out. Youthful exuberance sure can take a lot out of a guy. With my shirt and pants back on, I told her to sit tight and went to the bar where a piano man was cranking out the tune from "Casablanca." The fat lady was singing. She sang the lyrics fine but missed the notes. I felt for her, mostly humiliation. I ordered a scotch. It went down easy and ordered a second. By the time I headed back to the room, I had finished a third. I had been gone for nearly an hour.

Back in the room, I could hear a soft whimpering sound. Gail was sitting on a leather chair across from the bed with her legs spread apart, each draped over the opposite arm rests stroking her pussy. "I got tired of waiting, Mr. Larry. It's better if you help me with this."

My head was between her legs tasting a mix of juices, hers and mine. When I came up for air she said, "Do me again. Cum inside me again, Mr. Larry. I like it best when you cum inside me."

With my pants around my ankles, I pushed in and drilled her almost violently. Her legs eventually got tired of the armrests. She had me sit down and jumped on my cock for a while until she knelt on the chair with her ass up having me fuck her from behind. I was out of breath and at the end of my rope when I spewed the last of my seed into her love pit. I was done for the day, for the night, for Las Vegas.

I put her in a cab and sent her back to her mom. I had a vacant space in my heart when she left. I liked her.

Six weeks later, a letter addressed to "Dr. Larry, Curator, c/o the museum." I'm the only Larry curator so the letter had no trouble finding me. There was no return address but I knew who it was from. A short note was inside. I had a knot in my stomach when I read it. "My dear Larry, I am six weeks pregnant. It could be my husband's. I'm not sure. Both my husband and I are thrilled. Thanks! BTW: Gail sends her love. Vicky."