Iris (The Wild Side)(24)

“Well, sort of. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you a bit about it, but first I want to take in the view.”
She walked ahead of me, and as she did, her hands lifted her skirt briefly, tugged her little panties down, and dropped them to the floor. She didn’t even break her smooth stride as she stepped out of them, and continued onto the balcony, sans underwear.
Everything else, she left on.
I was fine with that.
She went straight to the balcony’s transparent fence, gripping the top of the silver railing that ran along it with both hands.
She spread her legs and arched her back, sending me a glance over her shoulder.
I knew that look. It was more than an invitation.
It was a summons.
“Is this your fantasy?” I asked, approaching her, hands busy taking off my shirt, and when that was done, pulling out my dick.
“Yes. I want you to make love to me right here, outside, with a perfect view of the neon sky.”
I didn’t even have to lift her skirt, it was that short.
I leaned back to watch as I pushed my hips forward, knees bent, my tip playing against her entrance.
She was wet and ready, and I entered her teasingly, watching each inch disappear inside of her tight cunt.
I stopped a few inches shy of buried. “Move for me. I want to see you work one of those little dance moves of yours on my cock.”
She groaned and started working it, shimmying her hips back to take me deeper, then lifting off with an impressive arch of her hips.
She worked me like that for some time, dancing on my cock.
Blowing my mind and rocking my world.
I could only take so much, and when I’d reached my limit, I grabbed her hips and started slamming into her in earnest.
One of her hands left the rail to reach between her legs, and then mine, scoring her nails softly against my scrotum.
I bent over, biting her bare shoulder, my hands moving up her body, under her shirt to grip her bouncing breasts as I finished myself off, one hand moving down to her clit and working it furiously until she followed me.

We didn’t leave that suite for two days.
It wasn’t until late on the second day, as we swam naked in the pool, lingering at the edge, watching Sin City below us, that she told me how she’d gotten the room, though I’d asked her several times.
“I got caught counting cards here,” she finally explained.
I was a bit floored by that, though I shouldn’t have been.
All of the signs were there.
“It was my own fault. I know better than to try at the bigger casinos. They have people watching that know what to look for. Also, I let it go too far. I won thirty grand before they caught me, which was another mistake. I should have quit at the ten-k mark.”
“Holy shit,” I said, still processing the whole thing. I wasn’t sure why I was so shocked.
It was so Iris.
“I’m surprised they didn’t arrest you.”
“It’s not, strictly speaking, illegal. It usually just gets you banned from whatever property caught you, which they were nice enough not to do. But they did confiscate my winnings. And they put me up in here for three nights, though if I sit down at a table, I’ll be escorted out.”
I laughed. Only Iris.
But the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t find it funny. “Is this counting cards habit of yours the reason someone tried to have you killed?”
Now that she found funny. “I can see where you might connect those dots, but no, not at all. Like I said, my life is messy. Always has been.”
I moved behind her, watching the city over her shoulder. “You should just come home with me and stay there. Whatever it is you’re scared of, it wouldn’t follow you there. You’d be safe. All you have to do is stay.”
She sighed, her head falling back on my shoulder. “I’d like that.”
I bent to kiss her neck. “So you’ll do it? You’ll stay with me?”
She turned and started kissing me, her arms wrapping tight around my neck. She pulled back just long enough to murmur, “God willing, someday I will.”

We spent our last evening in the suite in bed, watching television, just like old farts.
The TV was tuned into a news station when I stepped out of the restroom. This was unusual, for Iris, but I saw that she was just switching past as I came into the room.
Something had caught my attention, though, and I asked her to switch it back as I moved to join her on the bed.
She did without a word, and my jaw clenched as I saw that it was as I’d suspected.
There was a picture in the top corner of the screen of a girl of twelve or thirteen, with black hair, sporting thick glasses and a studious look. It must have been an old picture, from maybe four or five years ago.
The newscaster was droning on about today being the one year anniversary of her death, due to a tragic car accident.
It made my chest tight.
“I knew her,” I told Iris, as I climbed into bed beside her.
“Oh yeah? The VP’s daughter?” she asked, sounding mildly curious.
“Yes. My mother was, or is, close friends with the vice president. I can’t claim the same, but we spent some time with her family, and I do remember the daughter. The sweetest girl. Very bright. So much potential. Such a tragedy.” I couldn’t keep the quaver from my voice. Her death still affected me, more than I cared to talk about, but I’d grown used to sharing things like this with Iris.
I glanced over at her.
She looked bored, playing with her nails, so I grabbed the remote and quickly switched the station, looking for one of her horrible shows.
“Is this a good one?” I asked her.