"Jack Daniels, on the rocks." I answered in response to the cocktail waitress's question about what I was drinking.
"Coming right up cowboy!"
"Thanks uhh ... Stacy." I added, reading her name tag. I don't think it was coincidence that the name tag was pinned right next to the large expanse of cleavage she was showing and I was admiring. Stacy stood in place a few seconds longer to allow me to appreciate the full effect, then turned and headed to the bar to get my drink. I also admired her nicely shaped bottom as it swung back and forth under her short skirt. Yeah, I know, this was all done for the express purpose of getting me to part with a larger tip.
No, I am not a cowboy either. I wasn't wearing the boots or the hat, just sitting in this service bar in the Excalibur hotel in the wild west of Las Vegas. I was here for a conference on security, something I had to do occasionally as part of my duties as the head of corporate security for a large insurance company located in Atlanta. I would have preferred to skip the whole week here, leaving it for the younger guys. Actually, at 36, I was one of the younger guys, but I considered the ones who were here for the party atmosphere the younger (and less mature) guys. I know that I have to attend these things, the nature of the business is changing so quickly that it is hard to keep up. 30 years ago, I would be worrying about how to combat employees from taking company staplers and calculators home in their lunch boxes. Now I had to worry about client lists leaving the building on micro drives, competing companies getting our trade secrets, even foreign hackers trying to bring down the American economy one company at a time.
This conference was one that was held several times a year in various locations. My peers in the security field would come together to compare notes, revive old friendships and generally have a good time on the company dime for the week. We would listen to experts tell us of the latest threats and then get a sales pitch from all the vendors who were offering their own solution to keep our people and products safe. All this in the lap of luxury here in Las Vegas.
Stacy came back with my drink and placed it on the table in front of me, bending over more than she really had to in order to set it down. I took the opportunity she offered and got another look at the cleavage. I took 2 $20's from my wallet and placed them on the table in front of me. Stacy picked up one of them and pulling a wad of bills from the pocket of her apron, made change and set it on the table atop the remaining $20. I took the bills she had set down, leaving the $20 behind. I looked at the bill, then at her eyes, then back to the $20. She understood, and smiling, bent over again to pick up her tip. She then folded the bill in half and pushed it into her cleavage. As she continued pushing it further down, the bodice of her tight top slipped down lower until her dark brown nipples were just peeking out above the edge of the fabric. She stayed in that position as I looked at the nipples presented to me, stiffening at my gaze, now standing tall and proud. She slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, and then looked directly into my eyes. When she was sure I was watching, she moved her gaze to her bare nipples, then back to my eyes. I was enjoying the show, a stray thought passing through my mind wondering what they might taste like.
Calm down, Brian. You don't want to be taking a cold shower before you get into bed, I told myself. Stacy held her position for about 30 seconds before exclaiming "Oh my!" feigning surprise and embarrassment. She pulled the top back to its proper placement and smiled seductively as she walked away. Looking over her shoulder, she said "Enjoy your drink, cowboy!"
Right now, I was enjoying the view of her ass cheeks swinging from side to side as she headed back to the bar. Yes it was a game, and we each knew how to play.
*****
I was sitting in the service bar just off the casino floor, having a quick drink before heading back to my room. If I was smart, I would have passed on the drink, but no one has ever accused me of being that intelligent. It had been a long day at the conference, and I had been tired before it started. I should have been here yesterday about mid afternoon, but problems at work had required my attention and I did not end up flying out of Atlanta before 6 PM. Getting to the hotel around midnight, I had not gotten much sleep last night. I was hoping the drink would relax me some and then I could catch up on some of my lost rest.
The bar here was quiet, maybe 6 or 7 people at any time. There were a dozen tables and 4 booths along the back wall, but not many patrons found their way inside. Stacy was not having any trouble keeping up with the orders rather she might be having trouble staying alert. The bartender, on the other hand, was continuously busy. There was a steady stream of roving waitresses coming in to get their orders filled so they could return to the gamblers who would not need to leave their slots or tables to satisfy their desire for alcohol. I chose to sit in this bar because it was quiet and I could do a little people watching without being noticed, the dark bar making it difficult for anyone on the outside to see in.
Right now, the person I was watching was a very well put together blonde who was slowly walking down the row of slots, stopping occasionally to look at one of the machines or say something to one of the gamblers. She was tall, and was showing off what she had. Her dress was an emerald green material, kind of shiny. The top was cut low in the front and it was obvious from the way her breasts jiggled as she walked that she was not wearing a bra under the dress. The top was not so tight to restrict the movement of those breasts, but fit her well enough to show off her figure. The skirt flowed out and ended about 2 inches above her knees. She was very striking and by the number of other men who seemed to be watching her, I could tell I wasn't the only one with that opinion.
I was keeping my eye on her as she walked, then noticed a man who took a step away from his slot machine to watch her progress as she moved past him. As he did this, he stepped right into the path of a middle aged woman who was walking past in the opposite direction. They collided and the man apologized profusely as they stepped away from each other. The woman looked like she had just gotten off the tour bus. She had gray streaked hair done in a bun, big glasses that might have been in style 30 years ago, clunky earrings and bright red lipstick that looked as though she had applied it with a trowel. She was wearing a big, oversized tunic of some sort and teal colored polyester pants with blue athletic shoes. She finished off her ensemble with a purse that was larger than some overnight bags I had seen. I assume she was on her way to the all you can eat buffet with her meal voucher. She looked like the type who would go in with an empty purse and emerge an hour later with a purse weighing 20 pounds. I had to chuckle, these women thought they were so sneaky, and the casinos knew exactly what they were doing.
I returned my attention to the blonde, she had moved further down the aisle almost out of good viewing distance. Just as I changed my focus, I thought I saw something fall from the tourist woman's sleeve into her purse. I couldn't be sure, but swore I saw that movement out of the corner of my eye. I returned my attention to the older woman, but she too was getting further away and out of my field of vision. I must really be tired, I thought I was seeing things, maybe it was really time for me to head up to the room and get some sleep.
I spent a few minutes nursing my drink and just watching the other people on the gambling floor. One can find a cross section of Americana just watching the people one sees in a casino. I had almost finished the drink and I was pondering the wisdom of another when I saw that green dress moving closer to this side of the room. I forgot my concerns about drink and waited for her to get close enough for a better look. I got a chance to see her come down the aisle directly opposite my position, she was taking her time and not in any hurry. I was concentrating on her movements when I saw that telltale teal color that was the pants the older woman had been wearing. Odd, she was again walking in the same aisle as the blonde, again in the opposite direction. This time I let my attention divert from the blonde and watched the other woman. I saw a big guy who had his full attention on the blonde turn as she passed and once again, the older woman walked directly into him as he turned. Again, she sort of bounced back after the collision, and he apologized. She nodded and kept walking, but this time I looked more closely and saw her drop something that looked like a wallet into her bag. Damn, she was picking pockets right here on the casino floor. I guess she had taken notice of the looks the blonde got and would use that to her advantage. As I had watched, I noticed that although she looked the part of a middle aged tourist, a closer inspection showed she was something else. The arthritic shuffle was not quite stiff enough, the lines and crow's feet around the eyes missing, the skin too tight and supple for someone supposedly at that age.