He was doing pretty good at the tables but my eight-hundred is down to about hundred and fifty before it begins to rise again. The drinks keep coming ...(god, I love Vegas for that!) and I keep downing them. The alcohol makes me flirt even more, and he’s open to it. I’m back up and past my starting stash, with about a thousand dollars when Jeff says he’s had enough. He gathers his chips, wishes me luck, kisses my cheek, and heads off. A little disappointed, I decide to stay at the table. Three. Work was going well, his wife was treating him like a king, he was ready for a hot night with her.And did she look hot! When she had hung her coat in the closet, he saw for the first time how she was dressed, and better, he saw how good her body still looked.As she now walked away, he once again just enjoyed the view of those long legs, her nice cute ass, and the breasts, nipples. They just poked through the fabric he saw as she turned slightly to look at him. He was happy, tired, but. ”“I’m rubbing my little clitty bump, and thinking about the last time we went up in the hayloft.”“Oh shit.”“Zack. You were very sweet. You made me cum and cum and cum. Nobody else has ever done that for me.”“Oh shit. I hope not.”“No, you are the only one. You are my only one. I stuck my finger in it, when I said that. Way in. Like where your cock-a-doodle-doo goes.”“Oh shit.”“Say something other than oh shit.”“Oh fuck.”“Fuck, Zack, we gotta get together again. Sometimes soon. This finger shit. Sometimes a hobby sets you free. The rain seemed to grow heavier as the evening wore on, and as night gathered her skirts and prepared to saunter onto the sky stage, the bus finally came down the street. He straightened his shirt and got up from the bus bench, brushing dust, splinters and a rusty penny from his pants. Tonight was going to be a very special night, for a multitude of reasons. The concert was the linchpin in his plans, and it was imperative that he be on his best beh- His thoughts.