by Lucy Tucker
Carla was next, and after working her body from head to toe with the oil, Chance made love to her twice. Each was immensely satisfying, and under normal circumstances he'd have held her in his arms until they slept. Not this night, though. Carla took her things, murmured goodnight and left him with an empty bed.
Not for long. There was a discreet knock at the door, and Chance threw on his bathrobe and opened it to admit Melanie. She was wearing blue pyjamas and slippers, and she'd removed her makeup and let her hair down. "Good evening, Mr Chance. I'm not too early, am I?"
"No, not at all. And please, call me Luke."
"Can I get into bed? It's a bit cold."
Chance eyed her flushed expression, her warm slippers, and her nice thick pyjamas. As far as excuses went, he'd heard better. Before she got into bed she kicked off the slippers, removed her pjyama jacket and slid the bottoms down to her ankles, bending double to show off her shapely legs and extremely attractive rear. Despite his earlier exertions, Chance felt himself stirring at the sight.
He hurried forwards to pull the covers back for her, and she slid across the bed before patting the sheet alongside. Chance lay down behind her, and she turned away and drew her legs up, snuggling her buttocks against him. So far, no sign of baby oil and no mention of smacking.
"Luke?" whispered Melanie.
"Mmm?"
"Would you like to kiss me?"
Chance did so, brushing his lips on her neck before moving to her ear, then her cheek. She didn't respond, and he stopped. "Isn't that what you meant?"
"Not exactly." She took his hand and placed it on her belly, soft and warm against her skin. Then she slid it lower, until his fingers brushed her delicate curls. "I've never been kissed … there. My friends rave about it, but —"
"Of course I'll kiss you." Chance felt a rush of relief as he eased himself down the bed. Unlike the rest of him, his tongue still had plenty of life in it.
Melanie turned on her back, her legs pressed together. He saw her swallowing fitfully, her hands clenching nervously, and he ran his hands over her body, soothing her, easing her nerves. Then he kissed her belly, breathing her warmth and her scent. She drew a sharp breath, and he sought her hands, taking them in his, linking his fingers through hers.
He moved lower, nuzzling her soft curls with his lips, pressing down against her mound, working his way from one side to the other, kissing her in the hollow next to her thighs, gently nipping the soft skin with his lips. Melanie lay absolutely still, her shallow breathing barely audible, the ever-increasing grip of her warm fingers the only sign of the anticipation building within her.
Chance moved his lips inwards from her thigh, brushing her gently between the legs. He felt her wetness, her soft skin, and he bore down gently, before extending his tongue to touch her lightly.
Melanie responded, her breathing quickening and her fingers holding his tight.
Chance ran his tongue over her labia, exploring the delicate folds and valleys, still touching her very lightly. He felt her move, felt her legs slowly parting as he teased and tempted her, felt her desire overwhelming her reserve.
Then he slipped his tongue between her soft lips, and she drew her knees up, arching her back.
"Ooohhh!"
Chance withdrew, teased her some more, lapped around the edges before entering her briefly with his tongue.
"Ahhh!"
Melanie groaned, and Chance released her hands and cupped her buttocks instead, kneading her, lifting her off the bed, opening her wide. His tongue began to explore her more fully, probing, licking, delving inside before withdrawing slowly, pressing first on one side, then the other.
Melanie moved on the bed, her legs shifting, her feet seeking purchase on the mattress, her hands bunching the sheets, releasing them, running over her own body before finding her breasts. She began to toy with her nipples, tweaking them, pinching them hard. Her neck muscles stood out as she raised her head from the bed, her mouth open, panting, her eyes screwed shut. Chance continued to torment her, and Melanie's movements became more and more frantic as she felt the coming release. She left one hand on her breasts, working first one then the other, and shifted her other hand lower, between her thighs. Chance kissed her fingers, licking them as she slid two of them inside herself, and he tongued her hard as she spread herself wide.
"Ah … ah … ahhh!"
Melanie began to rock on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest now, two fingers deep inside, working hard. She was pinching her nipples so fiercely the skin of her fingers turned white from the pressure. Chance was almost superfluous, but then his questing tongue found her bud, and his touch pulled the trigger on her all-consuming orgasm.
"Ah … ah … ahh … ahhhhhh!"
Melanie cried out with sheer pleasure, her body twitching uncontrollably as the powerful climax took hold of her, wracking her from head to toe, consuming her with wave after wave of pure delight.
When it finally subsided she straightened her legs with a contented sigh, then reached for Chance and eased him up beside her, where he lay with one arm across her chest.
"Now I know what they were raving about," breathed Melanie, her face flushed and her blond hair tousled. "That was incredible."
They lay there for several minutes, enjoying the feel of each other. Then Melanie's hand moved, first to Chance's thigh, and then higher, to his rock-hard shaft. She took her hand away for a moment, feeling between her legs, and when she replaced it her fingers were slick and wet. Chance closed his eyes, smiling with pleasure as she began to move her hand up and down his shaft, slowly at first, gradually getting faster. Every so often she brought her fingers up higher, right over the sensitive crown, and Chance gasped and stiffened. He felt a growing warmth inside him, up the back of his legs, tightening his buttocks, and Melanie increased her pace, sliding her hand up and down faster and faster. Every stroke stimulated the crown now, and Chance's breathing turned ragged as the pleasure built to a climax. Then he came, jerking again and again as Melanie slid her soft hand up and down his shaft, extending the orgasm until he thought it would never end.
Finally she stopped, nestling his shaft in her hand, and Chance nuzzled her cheek. "That was very, very nice," he murmured.
She rolled towards him, putting her arm around him, and ten minutes later they fell asleep.
"So, Chance. Another drink?"
Chance said nothing, and merely held his glass out.
"The Smyths left this morning, by the way. Girl was looking rather pleased about something, ha-hmm." Harrow raised one eyebrow. "You have anything to do with that, Chance?"
"A gentleman never tells, sir."
"Of course not. Still, quite the firecracker, eh? Ha-hmm, ha-hmm."
Chance drained his glass and held it out for another.
"Thought you'd like to know, Chance. We're expecting more guests for this evening."
"More guests, sir?" Chance stared at him, dreading what might be coming next. Matching twins? A widower with a feather fetish?
"There's a wedding at the local church tomorrow, Chance. My niece is getting hitched to a solicitor."
"Congratulations, sir. I'm sure they'll be happy." Chance began to relax. A young lady on the eve of her wedding was hardly going to need help from him.
Harrow snorted. "The man's an ass, Chance. But you can't tell these young people anything."
Chance hoped he wasn't supposed to instruct the 'ass' on his marital duties.
"Anyway, my niece is having one of those hen dos, and afterwards the party is coming here for the night."
A party of women, revved up after a night of drink and strippers? Chance's stomach sank. "I assume this just one or two close friends, sir?"
"Not likely. There's at least a dozen, I hear. Most of 'em single and all of them frisky." Harrow saw Chance's expression, and laughed. "What's up man? In my youth I'd have rolled up my sleeves and given them all what-for. Ha-hmm. Ha-hmm!"
Chance tip-toed along the corridor, his sh
oes in one hand and a bag containing his clothes and toiletries in the other. It was just after nine, and only minutes before the first of the evening's 'guests' would be knocking on his door … or breaking it down.
During dinner he'd been pawed and smiled at by upwards of a dozen women, all of them slightly under the weather and every one of them eager to book a slice of his time during the night. One of them had a scheduler on her phone, and while they were haggling over timeslots Chance slipped out to move his car, aiming it towards the driveway in preparation for his night-time getaway. He loved women, and he enjoyed making them feel special, but there were limits to his stamina.
A floorboard creaked, and Chance froze. He'd just started breathing again when the light came on, dazzling him. As his eyes adjusted he realised he was surrounded by a dozen women in nightgowns, some with whips, some with ropes, some with handcuffs, one with a bottle of baby oil, another with a gag, two with riding crops and a couple bearing very large dildos.
"You weren't trying to run out on us, were you?" demanded Carla.
"Er …"
"No, Chance," said Lottie, chiding him, and all the women advanced at once.
-# End #-
Lucky Chance
Luke Chance Quickies #11
© Lucy Tucker 2012
Cover Design (c) Lucy Tucker
Image from 123RF Stock Photo
All Rights Reserved
About Lucky Chance ...
A young woman bets her last dollar at the roulette table, departing before the result is called. Luke Chance realises her future in his hands, and, intrigued, he seeks her out to learn more.
Lucky Chance is a 5000-word Luke Chance story. Suitable for adults only (18+)
Chance #11 - Lucky Chance
Chance strolled through the busy casino, past the poker tables, past the rows of slot machines, past the blackjack tables with the dedicated players, and onwards until he reached the roulette wheels. He wasn't a gambler by nature, but something about roulette appealed to him. It was simple, it was over quickly, and you couldn't really over-think it. You couldn't really win either, not with the odds stacked against you, but Chance enjoyed the brief rush of an occasional win.
He took a seat, and when the croupier called for bets, he placed a five dollar chip on black. There were three other people at the table. The first two were an elderly couple, arguing good-naturedly about every bet, cheering and groaning together as they won or lost. The third, a woman in her mid-twenties, stood slightly apart from the couple. She had dark, shoulder-length hair tied up in a ponytail, and she was wearing a floral print dress. She was small, fine-boned, and her face was pale, as though she spent long hours indoors. Chance decided she was an office worker, perhaps. She had a small pile of chips in front of her, and after some hesitation she placed one nervously on red.
"No more bets," said the croupier. The ball dropped, and he placed his marker. "Twenty-two, black."
Chance collected his winnings and placed another bet. The others did the same.
The wheel spun, and a few moments later, "Three, red."
The elderly couple threw their hands up and abandoned the table, leaving Chance with the young woman. She watched him collect his winnings, then met his eyes with a rueful smile. "I should be copying you."
"Don't worry, my luck never holds."
The woman laughed. "I find that hard to believe."
She chose red, and Chance chose black. Then, just in time, she moved her chip to black. The ball ended up on red.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," said Chance.
"No, my bad luck jinxed you."
A note in her voice had Chance studying her properly. He suspected she was approaching the end of a short holiday, a brief respite from a dull job, and that it hadn't lived up to her expectations. Her friends had probably sold her on the casino, with its heady mix of money and glitz, but she looked out of place in the flashing lights and glamour.
She placed another bet, the opposite of Chance this time, and he noticed her crossing her fingers under the table. People on holiday generally had a devil-may-care attitude towards winning or losing. They didn't cross their fingers and swallow nervously.
The croupier called the result and swept her chip away.
Chance frowned. She wasn't trying to win big, not with small bets on the roulette wheel, so she wasn't gambling in a desperate attempt to clear a debt. His mind teased the problem as he placed his bet, barely noticing where he put the chip. People fascinated him, and studying them was one of his hobbies. He prided himself on summing most up quickly, but this woman was an enigma.
She picked up her last chip, placing it on 13 red. "Unlucky for some," she said, with a brief smile.
Chance gave her a sympathetic grin.
The wheel had barely started spinning when she got up. "I can't watch this. If I win, can you collect for me? I'm going to sit in the bar."
Chance looked at the croupier, who nodded. He watched the woman walking across the gaming floor, a small, lonely figure in a sea of people.
A few moments later the croupier announced the result.
"Seven, red."
Chance saw the woman sitting at the bar, a glass of water in front of her. He took the seat alongside, and her eyebrows rose when she saw him. "Did I win?"
Chance placed a small stack of chips on the bar in front of her. "Your luck changed at last."
She studied him for a moment, looking directly into his eyes, then slid the chips back along the bar towards him. "Either you're very kind, or you think you can buy me. Whichever it is, I can't take these."
"But —"
"Did my number really come up? Be honest."
"No," confessed Chance. "It's just … I saw you crossing your fingers. I know it's none of my business, but —"
"Yes, that was last five bucks, and no, I don't know what I'm going to do next." She shrugged. "I was smart enough to pay for the room up front."
No money left. Well, that explained the crossed fingers and the nerves at the roulette table. She'd probably had nothing but water all afternoon - maybe all day. "What are you doing about dinner?"
She blinked. "Uh, you remember what I said about not buying me?" Then she reddened. "Oh! You meant … could I afford dinner, not … Oh God, now I've really insulted you." She put her hand on his arm. "I'm really sorry. It's no excuse, but I—I've had a hell of a month."
"Why don't you tell me about it? Right here, over a glass of water."
"You don't want to hear my troubles."
"I really do," said Chance. He ordered another glass of water, took a sip and smacked his lips. "Mmm. Good vintage."
The woman laughed. "Okay, I'll give you the short version. I'm Alison, or Allie for short. I got married three years ago, but my husband turned out to be a jerk. The divorce went through last week."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not," she said, with feeling. "He thought social networking was somewhere you shopped for new partners. I only found out because he left his laptop logged in one day. The sneaky bastard was running a second browser for his meet 'n' greets." Allie glanced at him. "He told me flirting online wasn't cheating, but then I had a look at the bank statements and found all these cash withdrawals. A bit here, a bit there … it added up over time. We were supposed to be saving for a deposit, and he was using our money on motels, and dinners, and God knows what else."
Chance frowned, and took another sip of water.
"I should have spotted it sooner," she muttered viciously. "He kept telling me he was working late, meeting his office friends … all the usual drivel. And I believed him." Allie turned her glass on the bar, watching the reflections. "Do you know what I'm most angry about? It's not that he was out there living it up, it's the fact I wasn't! I wasted three years of my life being faithful, when I could have …" Her voice tailed off as she studied the glass, mesmerised. Then she looked at Chance. "I quit my job, took my share of the remaining cash and booked a flight to the nearest casino. A
week of fun, frolic and madness, only without the fun." She hesitated. "Or the frolic."
"Do you have family?"
She shook her head. "I left home when I was seventeen. I don't know where they are, and I don't want to."
"So when you check out of the hotel …"
"I'll survive. I always do."
"The offer of dinner stands," said Chance evenly. "No strings, I promise."
They enjoyed a lively dinner, chatting about their past and sharing anecdotes, and afterwards they shared a quiet coffee in the lounge. Allie livened up during the evening, and when she laughed at Chance's silly jokes and remarks he could see genuine humour in her eyes. It was a pleasure enjoying her company, and he felt a thrill when she leaned across the low table to take his hands in hers.
"Do you believe in fate?" she asked him.
Chance hesitated. "Honestly? No."
"All right. Show me your palms."
Chance turned his hands over and she held them in hers, her thumbs gently brushing his palms. They sat like that for several seconds, until Chance cleared his throat. "Are you reading my future?"
She smiled. "No, I'm deciding mine."
Chance felt an inner warmth. Her touch on his palms was sensual, sending little shivers up his arms, and he could see the naked desire in her eyes. But while her body language said one thing, her expression was guarded.
Allie released his hand and picked up a betting chip from the small stack on the table, turning it over and over in her slim fingers. "Shall we try an experiment?"
Her gaze was challenging, daring him. "Sure."
"You might not like the outcome," she warned him.
"I'm sure I can handle it."
"Okay. Follow me."
Allie led him to the roulette table, where she placed the chip on red. Then, as the wheel spun, she smiled at Chance. "If it comes up black, we say goodbye. If not … " she took his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and Chance felt the warmth of her touch.