After Hamilton�s, Howie and I went back to the hotel to gamble a little before my early morning date with India. AJ went off with Kevin to Club Monaco. Some sophisticated low-key piano bar that�s all the rage with the over thirty crowd. I challenged Howie to a bet that Kevin would take a turn �tickling the ole ivories� once he was there. He liked to show off his piano skills and I can�t say I blame him.
Here was a man who was in his mid thirties who had been playing the piano since he was nine and he couldn�t get any respect past being a teen idol. Kevin was one of those gifted musicians who could hear something and then duplicate it on the piano instantly. That was how good his ear was. Even in the studio he had a knack from adding some type of background sound that made all the difference in the song. Needless to say Howie didn�t take me up on the bet. Kevin taking a little time to play on a piano was like a groupie, a sure thing.
It was a nice night of discreet gambling with little to no interruptions. There were the few young women who happened to be lucky enough to be in town the same time as us but nothing too out of control. We blended in very well with the rest of the crowd and I felt relaxed around a large group of people for the first time in a long time. It�s fun when I get to act like a normal guy because I�m not the average person walking on the street. I don�t worry about bills. I don�t work hard from sun up to sun down and get paid nothing for all my sweat. I don�t sit in an office and type and file papers all day while answering an ever ringing phone. People don�t treat me like an average person and so I don�t act like a normal person. But being normal did have its advantages. The only advantage to being a regular person was the privacy and freedom. I want to do stupid things without being judged like I was the world�s moral leader and therefore had made the biggest mistake on earth but then when it�s all said and done being rich and famous was a lot more fun.
�I�m heading out man.� He pushed away from the table and slapped me on the back, �Have fun with your friend tonight.� Just the thought of her made me smile,
�You know I will.� He walked off and that left me with Carl. He was the quietest bodyguard I have ever had. He never made small talk with me, never made any suggestions. He was silent and invisible. I figure even the Secret Service get a little interaction with the President every once and a while. No matter what funny thing I said, and I say a lot of funny things, the man never laughed. I think sometimes he goes back to his room and laughs when no one is watching, mainly me.
I turned to see him scouting the room.
�Hey Carl man. Sit down and bet a hand.� I held out a one hundred dollar chip. He remained standing not even appearing to give my suggestions any thought. I shrugged and cashed in my own chips, �Alright man let�s go. I need to get back up to my room anyway.� I stood up and patted him on the back, �And thanks for gambling with me. You know? You really are a friendly guy.� The thing that frustrated me the most about him was that even when I made comments like that he didn�t bite.
�Don�t� you have anything to say? Here I am bored and you just ignore me.� He placed his hand on my back, between my shoulder blades, and guided me through the casino.
�I�m not paid to entertain you. I�m paid to keep you safe.� I laughed,
�Wow, that�s very Kevin Costner Bodyguard of you Carl.� He grunted,
�Keep it up and I�ll conveniently look the other way the next time you�re on MTV.� That wasn�t even funny to me. Those girls who go to those MTV events are the craziest of the crazy. They scream and cry at just the sight of us on camera. It was all too much and frankly those soundstages are way too damn small.
Standing at my door with Carl behind her looking like she should be on stage somewhere was India. She walked past me, as I held the door open and allowed her to enter, made her way to the center of the room and waited for instructions. I extended the invitation to sit down and joined her on the bed. She wasn�t wearing her uniform and I don�t know why I thought she would. She was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and tiny almost see through white top. I stared at her as she confidently stared back. The girl should be a model all I wanted to do was look but I couldn�t. I had to say something or I would end up looking like an idiot,
�You want a drink?� She declined immediately,
�No, I have to drive.� Responsible. But still she�s here at three o�clock in the morning. How did she wind up here? She looks like a good girl. I can, for the most part, spot the good girls from the bad ones. How did the good girls end up doing things they shouldn�t? Things that they know are bad? Things that they believe are bad? Its something I�ll never know the answer to unless I break down and ask one but I don�t want to offend someone.
Now the bad girls, they were easy to figure out. First of all, they stood out in the crowd. They were blunt and if their mouths didn�t say it their body language and their eyes did. With one look a girl who was willing to do anything could let you know. The way she licked her lips, the way she looked you up and down or the easiest, the look that said I want to have sex, I want it with you and I want it now. They really weren�t bad people though. Their problem was they wanted what other people had. They wanted something for nothing. Being glamorous was a dream. Being the unknown girl on the arm of a celebrity was cool. They wanted to be envied and respected by their friends, the special one in the group. I�m sure if their friends knew how much they degraded themselves, how bad and embarrassed they felt about their situation when no one was around, how much attention they didn�t get and in the end how bad they were treated they wouldn�t want to be like the �lucky� girl. The �lucky� girl was all good until another lucky girl filled her spot and she was cast aside like Woody once Buzz Lightyear came to town. To a guy, a girl he didn�t love became boring and after a while he needed someone new to play with.
�Do you mind if I take my shoes off?� I told her I didn�t and I hoped she knew she didn�t have to stop there. She didn�t keep going but luckily I did get the look that said she was ready and willing.
I leaned over and kissed her pink shiny lips. They tasted just as good as they looked and they felt even better. I slowly raised my hand up until my fingers were running through her hair. It was so soft and seemed to just slide through my fingers like Sarah�s did. Did all dark hair feel this way? It felt like it should have been in a shampoo commercial. She leaned back and pulled me on top of her as she ran her hands up and down my back under my shirt. She knows what she likes and I like that. As we kissed she was vocal and I like that too. She rolled on top of me and began to grind her crotch into mine and of course I was loving that.
She slid down my body and off the bed standing in front of me stripping out of her clothes as I sat up on my elbows ready to enjoy the show. She wiggled out of her clothes like snake shedding its skin and the more skin that was visible the harder my dick became. Her hair and olive skin may have reminded me of Sarah but that was it. Her breasts were large, round, full and fake but that�s ok I�m not biased over breast implants. I think they were better that two sloppy breasts sliding underneath a chick�s armpits.
Chapter 105
Stranger Than Fiction
Stories
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