“Golden Joab,” said Olga. “He is a magician who performs for the public very rarely. I am… a big fan of his.”
“A big fan?” Malcolm smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I’d love to ask you some questions, if you have the time to talk.”
Both Olga and Hans started laughing. Malcolm took his next roll, not really paying attention and not really caring about whether he won or lost.
“John, that’s a new one,” said Hans. “I’ve grown very used to men propositioning my wife over the years. Usually not men so young, and usually not with that much subtly.”
“I’m serious,” said Malcolm. “I’ve heard a lot about Golden Joab. I’d love to get some more information, if your wife is a fan.”
“You should focus on the game, John!” said Hans. “I feel bad taking all your money.”
It wasn’t far from the truth. Malcolm was down to his last five thousand. He licked his lips, considering his options, and decided to try something stupid.
He bet a thousand at the start of the next round, before either of them had rolled. Hans made a scoffing noise, but called the bet without hesitation. Malcolm took his time shaking the dice, and threw them hard against the inner wall of the rolling space.
Reaching out with the wind, Malcolm gave each of the dice a small directed push as they came to a stop. He kept it from being anything too egregious, giving himself three fours and a six. Hans frowned at the lucky throw, his own leaving him with only a pair.
“Interesting…” said Hans.
It’s cheating, but come on… Nobody is going to know.
Malcolm did the same thing with his next roll, and then continued with it for the following few rounds. In a span of twenty minutes, he went from having five thousand dollars’ worth of chips to almost thirty thousand. Hans was fuming across the table from him.
“Let’s make it a little more interesting,” said Hans, pushing all his remaining chips in. “This next roll decides the game, John.”
Malcolm nodded slowly, keeping his expression cool.
“Sure,” he said. He pushed all his chips in, not even bothering to look at what the other man had after his first roll.
“You are so confident,” said Hans. “You must know the odds of you winning this round. You have nothing.”
“Nothing but luck,” said Malcolm.
And the power to manipulate the dice.
He rerolled all five of his dice, giving himself a straight. Hans had two pairs, and made a noise a little like the sound of a dying car engine. He sank to his knees across from the table, Olga dropping down to comfort him.
Hans cleared his throat and finally stood up. His face was red, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before speaking.
“That… was not technically my money that I just lost,” he said. “It belonged to… my business. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. You mentioned asking my wife some questions before?”
Olga flashed a flirtatious smile at Malcolm from across the table.
“I think we can definitely work something out,” said Malcolm.
CHAPTER 15
Malcolm left the table with Hans and Olga, following them back into the hotel and then up to their room. Hans whispered with his wife for most of the way, and stopped in front of the door to his room, letting her go inside ahead of him and Malcolm.
“Two hours,” said Hans. “All that I ask is that you be safe and careful. She is not on the pill.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up.
“I, uh, meant what I said before,” he said. “I just want to ask her some questions.”
“Sure, whatever,” said Hans. “Well, it’s been a while for the two of us, so I’m sure she’d be more than willing to answer your ‘questions’, John.”
He walked off down the hallway without looking back. Malcolm knocked on the doorframe and then stepped into the couple’s room, closing the door behind him.
“Hey, Olga?” called Malcolm. He didn’t see her in the bedroom. “Where’d you disappear to?”
The bathroom door opened, and Olga walked. She’d taken her hair out of the braid, but Malcolm almost didn’t notice. All of his attention was on her body, and on the fact that she’d changed into lingerie.
Olga’s big breasts were held only by a sheer, white lingerie bra, her pink nipples showing through the thin fabric. The panties were part of a matching set, and she also wore fishnet stockings, held up by a white lace garter belt.
Malcolm’s jaw dropped open. She smiled confidently as she walked up to him, letting her hips sway from side to side with each step.
“My husband is so careless with his wild betting,” said Olga. “I guess I’ll have to be the one to clean up his mess, yes?”
She stepped in close to Malcolm, letting her hand run over his crotch. He already had an erection, and his heart skipped a beat as she began massaging it through his pants.
“I… just needed some information,” he said, feeling stupid.
“Some information?” Olga smiled wickedly. “Perhaps you’d like to know… what my mouth feels like, on various parts of your body?”
“Actually… I, uh… need to know…” Malcolm was finding it suddenly very hard to focus.
Olga spun around, pushing her big, soft butt against his hardness. She took his hands and slid them over her stomach, up to her breasts. They felt incredible against Malcolm’s palms. He tried to keep his head clear. It was impossible.
“These feel better than boring, plastic chips,” whispered Olga. “Don’t they?”
She wiggled her butt against Malcolm’s erection, slowly bending forward to lean against the bed. She looked over her shoulder at him expectantly.
“You wouldn’t leave a woman waiting, would you?” she asked. “Or do you not know how to play this game as well as the ones in the casino?”
Malcolm had his pants off in record time. He nearly tackled Olga onto the bed, his horniness suddenly overwhelming any sense of logic or reason left in him. He lifted her butt up, finding that she was already wet, and slid into her, taking her from behind.
Olga let out a high-pitched squeal as he began to thrust. There was something aggressive and animalistic about the encounter. She was another man’s wife, but for the moment, she was his, to use and play with as he wanted.
This is stupid… but if feels really good.
He ripped Olga’s bra slightly in his haste to get it off her. She didn’t seem to mind. Malcolm groped at her naked breasts as he pumped his shaft into her. Olga put her hands over his, as though trying to lock him into place.
Her butt, though not overly large, felt amazing as padding against his crotch. Malcolm pushed her down against the bed, each of his forward movements sliding them a little further until the only thing between her head and the wall was a single pillow.
“Mr. Adams!” cried Olga. “Oh… is this how you… treat a married woman?”
Malcolm responded by giving her butt a soft slap, which elicited a squeal of delight. Olga shifted, rolling to face him. Malcolm kissed her, sliding back into place and taking her in the missionary position.
He didn’t last long. Olga was a stunning specimen of a woman, and Malcolm was a young, hot blooded male. He kissed her breasts, slamming into her with all the strength his muscles could muster, and found his release… without pulling out.
Whoops…
Malcolm felt pleasure wash over him, followed by a wave of regret. He was an idiot, and had done something to serve no purpose other than those of his hormones. He scowled and reached for his boxers.
“Sorry,” he said. “This is… just a big misunderstanding. I really came up here to ask you questions about the magician. Honestly!”
He pulled his boxers on and turned around to face Olga. She had a small camera in her hand, one of the hidden varieties designed for secret recording.