This story contains sexual words, actions, and themes.  
If you are under 21, this is not for you... go away. 
If this is not normal where you come from, go away.  
If you don't like this sort of stuff, go away.

If, on the other hand, you are legal, and this type of 
story is 'normal' for you, and you LIKE it... keep on 
reading.



This is my first new story in a LONG time.  It isn't 
my best, and the title sucks, but I am trying to jump 
back on the bandwagon, so please be gentle.  And if 
you even have a smidgen of liking for it, I could use 
some ego-stroking...errr... umm.... I mean, praise.



The Gamble by Pami (pami1968@aol.com) (M/F, mdom?)



It was a short flight home - under an hour.  It was 
around midnight when they boarded, and the plane was 
about half empty.  Or half full, depending on your 
level of optimism or pessimism, she thought to 
herself.  No one flies at midnight on a Saturday 
night.  Her seat assignment was about three rows from 
the back of the 737, which was supposed to be one of 
the safest places to be.  At least according to the 
FAA.  In reality, if anything went wrong with the 
plane, she reflected that those seat cushions that 
could be used as flotation devices would really be no 
use at all.  In fact, did they EVER get used as 
flotation devices?

One of the travel group was a seat away.  She had the 
window, and he had the aisle.  They had a mutual 
friend but that was it.  In all, they had exchanged 
maybe 50 words, ever.  And her friend didn't even like 
him, which colored her thinking just a bit.  But as he 
sat down and asked her how her trip had gone, she 
thought that he WAS maybe just a little bit sexy.

Takeoff was delayed, and he offered her one of his 
magazines.  Newsweek or Time.  She declined, 
preferring to look at the window at the airport 
lights.  She sighed heavily, and he looked up at her.

"Rough day at the tables?" he asked her with a slight 
smile on his face.

She grinned back.  "Lost a couple of hundred.  I guess 
that isn't bad.  I didn't have to resort to the credit 
cards for money, so I suppose I'm ok.  You?"

"Well, I did just fine until right before we left.  I 
thought I'd give roulette one more whirl.  I guess 16 
really ISN'T my lucky number," he told her.

"Never take more than you can afford to lose.  I think 
that's what my mother used to tell me," she replied.  

"Ahhh... so you come here a lot?" he asked.

"Oh no!" she said with a little giggle.  "THAT would 
be a very, very 'bad' thing.  I used to come here more 
frequently when I lived about an hour away, but now 
that it involves planning and a plane flight, I pretty 
much stopped.  There's something about actually 
PLANNING to go somewhere and lose my money that tends 
to stop me."

They laughed together and then she sat back in her 
seat, shooting what she thought was a subtle glance 
out of the corner of her eye at him.  He stood about 6 
feet tall, and she had no idea what he weighed, but he 
wasn't overweight or particularly skinny either.  
Solid was a good term for him, she thought to herself 
as she checked him out.  He was reading Time magazine 
and was apparently engrossed in some article about 
some legal battle being waged at the Supreme Court.

He looked up at her, catching her staring at him, and 
smiled at her.  "I can't get away from it," he told 
her with a note of humor in his voice.

She was confused by this apparent non sequiteur.  
"Huh?" she asked with all of the aplomb of a 12 year 
old.

"The law.  You DID know I am an attorney, right?" he 
asked her.

"Uh.  Oh.  Yeah.  Of course I did," she recovered.  
"After all, we ARE on a trip with the law FIRM, 
right?" she replied with an attempt to regain some
composure.  

"Sheesh," she thought, "I sound like the village idiot 
instead of a 30 year old professional woman."  

He shook his head and went back to his magazine.  

She looked out the window at the lights below and 
tried not to think about how far up in the air they 
were.  She wasn't a poor flyer, she just didn't like 
to dwell on the possibility of crashing.  Landing and 
taking off were the tough parts.  The actual 'cruising 
altitude' stuff was ok.

She must've dozed off, because all of a sudden he was 
gently shaking her arm.  "Buckle up, its landing 
time," he smiled at her.  She sat up, blinked her 
eyes, smiled back at him, and hoped that she hadn't 
been snoring or drooling in her sleep.  Now THAT would 
be embarrassing.  

As the plane descended, she could see the tops of the 
trees as they reached them, and then, with a gentle 
bump, the pilot braked to a relatively smooth stop.  
They looked at each other, and he said, "I guess you 
can breathe now, eh?" with a wry grin.

She giggled and took a deep breath of the stale cabin 
air and promptly started coughing.

They both laughed at that, and she said, "I guess I 
should wait to be outside in the nice fresh city air 
before I do that again."  They laughed some more as 
they patiently waited to deplane.

As they companionably walked up the ramp, he smiled 
and extended his hand, "Well, it was nice meeting you.  
Maybe we'll bump into each other again, ok?"

She shook his hand and murmured the expected 
pleasantries.  He walked away, and she turned to wait 
for her friend.



"Damn, damn, damn...." She muttered as she popped the 
hood on her car.  "What a crappy trip.  I lose money, 
I act like an idiot on the plane, and now THIS!"

She and her friend had parted company on the moving 
walkway of the airport, and she went to start her car 
for the long drive home, only to find that the car 
wouldn't start.

She propped the hood up and looked inside.  "First of 
all," she reasoned, "what the hell am I doing looking 
at an engine in the dark."  The parking lot lights 
weren't THAT bright.  "Secondly", she thought, "I 
don't even know what I am looking FOR.  What I know 
about cars would fit in a thimble.  That's what AAA is 
for."

A car honked behind her and she jumped, whirling 
around to face a dark green Volvo.  The driver's side 
window rolled down, and she saw it was the guy from 
the plane.  

"Anything wrong? " he called.

"Nothing that a new car wouldn't fix," she told him 
with a scowl on her face.

He parked right in front of her vehicle and got out.  
"What's up?" he asked.

"Oh, the damn thing won't start."

"Any idea what's wrong?" he asked.

She snorted.  "Do I LOOK like a mechanic?" she asked 
sarcastically.

He cast her a look of distaste and replied, "Hey, I'm 
just trying to help here.  If you would prefer, I 
could just go on my way.  It IS kind of late, and I 
would like to get home before the sun comes up."

She sighed, "I'm sorry.  I'm just tired and want to go 
home.  And now I have to call AAA and then wait for 
them, and see if they can start my car, or if they 
have to tow it, and where would I have them tow it to 
anyway, since I don't have a mechanic in this town."  
She started off by apologizing to him but ended up 
talking to herself.

Flashing lights came up the row of parked cars as they 
stood there, and it was the airport rescue squad.  
They took a look at her car, and offered the expert 
opinion that it wasn't the battery or anything they 
could easily fix.  "Look like you're gonna need a tow, 
lady, and we don't do that," was the judgment.

She leaned against her car, and he spoke.  "How about 
I give you a ride home, and then tomorrow you can come 
back out and take care of it during the day?  You look 
whipped."

"You wouldn't mind, really?" she asked with a hopeful 
tone.

He smiled and gestured to the passenger side.  "Hop on 
in, and let's go."

She smiled back, and wearily walked over and climbed 
in.  She inhaled deeply once she was in the car.

"No cough?" he asked with a note of humor.

"Nope... fresh air, and the smell of leather.  
Ahhhhh...does wonders for me," she grinned at him.

She quickly gave him directions to her apartment, and 
off they went.  The 25-minute drive was uneventful and 
neither spoke.  She couldn't help but notice his hands 
on the steering wheel, and how strong they appeared.  
She smiled to herself, thinking how ridiculous that 
would sound to anyone else, but she liked hands.  She 
liked fantasizing about they would feel touching her.

He pulled up in front of her apartment, and without 
thinking, she reached out and touched his right hand.  
Briefly caressing it, running her fingertips from the 
wrist over the back of the hand, and tracing his 
fingers.  His hand turned over and grasped hers, and 
she was shaken into reality, and she looked at him. 
He leaned towards her, and she knew what he wanted.

The kiss was electrifying, and suddenly she wasn't 
tired anymore.  He tasted faintly like liquor, and she 
knew that he had a drink or two in the airport before 
they had left Atlantic City.  His tongue was rough 
against hers, and when he suddenly rubbed it over the 
roof of her mouth, she felt chills run up her spine.

He drew back from her and turned the car off.  He took 
his keys out of the ignition and smiled at her.  "I 
think I should tuck you into bed, little girl."

She just looked at him dazedly and said "Okay," in a 
small voice.

They both got out of the car and he followed her up 
the stairs to her front door.  Her door was entirely 
glass, and as she put her key in the lock she looked 
through and right into the mirror that faced the door.  
She could see her reflection, and his, directly behind 
her.  She opened the door and stepped through.  He 
followed and shut the door, locking it.  He then 
turned around and as she went to go up the stairs to 
the second floor apartment he commanded,
"No.  Wait.  Look at something here."

She stopped and took the three steps back to where he 
was, and he turned her around to face the mirror 
again.  They were all of 12 inches from the large 
mirror that clearly reflected the both of them from 
the waist up.  He wrapped his hand around her long 
hair and immobilized her head as he swooped in on her 
neck, licking and gently biting it.

Her pulse raced as she wondered how on earth he could 
have any idea of how to excite her so easily.  His 
tongue slid over her pulse in her neck, and she 
shivered with joy.  In the next moment, his teeth slid 
shut and he bit her.  More than a nibble, and hard 
enough make her feel a moment of pain before he 
softened it into a kiss.  Her hands reached up and 
slid through his hair, holding him to her.  Every one 
of his touches sent a twinge to her pussy, and she 
knew she was getting damp.

He finally stopped ravaging her neck and looked at her 
in the mirror.  Her neck was red and splotchy and she 
knew she would have a couple of marks come tomorrow 
morning.  He didn't care, and neither did she.

"I've been wanting to do this since the moment I saw 
you on the flight out," he told her, his stare never 
once leaving her eyes.

She blushed.  She felt it start at her cheeks, and as 
he stared at her in the mirror, they both watch it 
spread down the unmarked parts of her neck and 
disappear beneath her blouse.

"I want to see how far down you blush," he whispered 
as he stood up straight behind her.  "Let's go 
upstairs."

She started up the steps, very conscious of the fact 
that he was directly behind her and was probably 
watching her ass as she climbed the stairs.

They walked through the kitchen and into the living 
room.  He sat down on the plush sofa and uttered one 
word.  "Strip."

She did.  She pulled her shirt over her head, and in 
one motion pulled her pants and socks off together, 
leaving her standing before him in her panties and 
bra.

"Wait," he said, as she reached for the clasp of the 
bra.  "Turn," he told her, and she did.

She slowly turned before him, and as she turned back 
to face him, he smiled.  "Did you know this would 
happen?" he questioned her.

"What?" she asked, confused by the question.  How on 
earth would she have known this would happen?  The 
turn of events was a little too unlikely.  Surely he 
didn't think she engineered the entire car breakdown 
just to get him into bed.

"Well, purple IS my favorite color," he smiled again 
and gestured at her lacy bra and panties.  

She blushed again and smiled.  "What a coincidence.  
It is mine too," she told him.

"And now, my dear.... I want to see just how much of 
you is blushing.  Continue," he commanded with a wave 
of his hand.

She knew most women would be thoroughly offended by 
his manner by now, but she also knew that somehow he 
was playing to her mostly hidden submissive side, and 
it was turning her on even more.  How did he know that 
she was tired of men who always asked how to please 
her?  How she was weary of having to say, "No, kiss me 
here.  No, lower.  Oh harder, please."  She wanted a 
man who would just KNOW how to please her.  And how to 
get her to please him.

She reached around and undid the clasp of her bra, and 
her bountiful breasts sprang forward, released from 
their harness.  She reached down and pulled her 
panties down to her ankles and then kicked them off, 
standing completely naked before his eyes.  He did 
nothing for what seemed like a long time to her and 
then he spoke.

"Come over here.  Now," he said, pointing to a spot 
directly in front of him.  

She did, and she stood with her tits even with his 
line of sight.  He looked at them.  Reached up and 
took them in his hands, massaging and pulling on them. 
Taking the rosy and thick nipples between his thumbs 
and forefingers and pulling them towards him so that 
her breasts were distended.  Leaning forward and 
taking one of her teats between his lips and sucking 
on it suddenly.  Then turning to the other one and 
latching onto it with his teeth, flicking his tongue 
back and forth quickly over the sensitive end.  She 
moaned, unable to help herself, as the sensation 
resonated throughout her body, from her tits to
her brain and then down to her pussy.

At her sound, he let go and leaned back, looking up at 
her flushed face.  "So you like that, eh?" he asked 
with a smile on his face.

She nodded, not sure whether to speak or not.  Not 
sure whether she COULD speak.  It had been an awful 
long time since someone had touched her in such a way, 
and she was overwhelmed.  

He tapped the sofa next to his left leg.  "Foot. Here.  
Now, please," he told her, tapping her right knee so 
that she wouldn't misunderstand him.

She placed her right foot outside his knee and he 
placed his hand over it, gently rubbing it and smiling 
up at her.  They both inhaled deeply, and she was 
slightly mortified that she could smell her arousal.  
His smiled widened as hers disappeared and she jumped.  
He had taken his free hand and suddenly thrust it 
between her legs, cupping her vulva and feeling her 
wetness.  

"Oh!" she gasped as one of his fingers found its way 
inside her tunnel.  Another finger gently and 
persistently rubbed her clit, and she felt like she 
was going to melt on the spot.  Her eyes closed, and 
her head fell back on her shoulders as she surrendered 
completely to the sensation.

Abruptly his hand left her pussy, and she straightened 
up and looked back down into his suddenly unsmiling 
visage.  "Look at me, sweet.  Don't stop.  
Understand?" he told her, leaving her no real option 
but to nod her head in agreement.  No option, that is, 
if she wanted the touching to continue.

He smiled again, and the magical fingers were upon her 
wetness once more.  This time he thrust two fingers 
inside her tightness, and used his thumb to circle 
around and around her clit.  She whimpered with 
pleasure, but didn't dare to remove her eyes from his.  
The effort was exhausting, when every instinct was 
telling her to look away.

His smile widened as her hips began uncontrollably 
thrusting at him, fucking his fingers deeper and 
trying to get the necessary friction against her 
little nub to allow her the orgasm that she wanted so 
much.  He kept pulling back more and more so that she 
would move more wildly to get what she needed.  Her 
eyes were completely dilated now with the black pupils 
almost covering the colored irises beneath them.  He 
could see that her entire body was flushed with 
arousal now, and the room was heavy with her scent.

She looked into his eyes with purpose now, and knew 
that her orgasm was just seconds away.  She couldn't 
control herself anymore, and she heard the panting and 
moaning noises coming out of her mouth like an animal 
in heat.  And she was just as desperate as one.

Just as she was about to crest the mountain, he pulled 
his fingers out of her.  She moaned with 
disappointment and anger, only to scream with passion 
as he suddenly fucked three of his magical fingers 
into her slit, turning them rapidly and rubbing 
relentlessly against that little spot inside that so 
few men knew about.

She burst into climax, feeling all control slip from 
her as she looked into his eyes.  She felt the sudden 
pressure explode as she experienced one of the 
squirting orgasms that signified that she was aroused 
beyond all normal boundaries.  And still her eyes 
clung to his, hoping that he would help her cling to 
reality as her body shattered into a thousand flaming 
pieces.

His thumb gently slid over her clit to maintain her 
orgasm for as long as possible, and she continued to 
thrust her hips uncontrollably towards him as waves 
and waves of pleasure continued to cascade over her 
for what seemed like long minutes.

Finally, she calmed down, and he withdrew his hand 
from her drenched pussy.  He reached up to his mouth 
and took a long lick of her juices.  "Delicious," he 
pronounced.  "I hope there is more where that came 
from."

She still gazed into his eyes, and he snapped his 
fingers.  She blinked, coming back to reality, and 
blushed.


