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It ain't often that a couple of gambling pros get outwitted.


by Devereaux Williams



Vol. 2 No. 9 1958

     UNQUESTIONABLY, Dolores was the outstanding beauty among the girls who worked the chorus at the gambling resort hotel. So, when she wandered into, Max's office at 10 o'clock in the morning, even though she wore a long, full-sleeved samba shirt and slacks, the eyes of both men in the room protruded as if on stalks.
     Where Max would have shooed any one else out of the office at that hour, he merely said, in not unkindly fashion for him, "Beat it, babe--Jerry and I got business."
     Dolores brushed back shoulder-length black hair and shifted her hips ever-so-slightly as she pouted, "But, Max, I got a problem."
     "What is it, honey?" the manager asked, chewing on his cigar.
     "Money--what else?" she asked.
     Jerry, the assistant manager, spoke for the first time since Dolores' entrance, He said, "Don't you broads rake in enough from the suckers after hours?"
     Dolores shook her beautiful head. "I got to get to St. Louis tonight," she told them. "My brother's in jail, and I need ten grand fast to get him out."
     "You think I'm gonna hand you ten gees because your brother's a punk ?" asked Max, hardening.
     "What do you take us for?" Jerry inquired, scowling fiercely.
     "I'm not asking you to hand me anything," said Dolores patiently. "I know my brother's no good, but he's still my brother, and I promised my mother just before she died to keep him out of trouble." She sighed. "I've saved up a thousand dollars, and I want to shoot it on the dice. If I win, I'll do what I can for him. If not, well, there won't be anything I can do."
     "Why don't you try when the tables are open ?" growled Jerry.
     "Because I'm working the show then," said Dolores. "Besides, there's no time. To do any good, I gotta be out of here on the noon plane."
     Max chewed his cigar for a long, reflective moment. Then he said, "Let's see your dough, babe."
     Since the costly cooling system was turned down during off-hours, the gambling room was hot and close. Outside, the mid-morning sun was beating down at a merciless 100-plus degrees, Fahrenheit, and the mere effort of stripping the cloth from a dice-table made the men drip with sweat.
     "Goodness !" the girl exclaimed. "I didn't know it got this hot."
     "So what?" countered Jerry crudely. "We won't be here long."
     She hesitated, then said, "Would you fellows mind if I took off my shirtwaist?"
     "Why should we mind ?" countered Max, removing his cigar to rub a bit of detached leaf from his lower lip.
     "I'll never be able to keep my mind on the dice like this," said Dolores, frowning prettily. She hesitated again, briefly, then unbuttoned the light, half transparent linen blouse and shrugged.
     Although, essentially, they were gamblers, Max and Jerry were thoroughly inured to lush feminent nudity by the very nature of their jobs. They would not have cast a second look at Lady Godiva riding down the Main Street of Coventry on her white horse in the altogether.
     But so extraordinarily lovely was the sight of Dolores' full, firm young breasts, seen thus informally, unexpectedly and at such close range, that Max almost swallowed his cigar. He could not remove his eyes from the pearly, pink-tipped globes, as Dolores leaned forward to cast the dice on the marked green cloth, as she stood straight to rattle them and cast again...and again...
     Not until she had resumed her blouse and swung gracefully out, after running six straight passes into a 64-grand roll, did he begin to function once more. A sudden, horrid thought struck him, and he turned to Jerry and asked, "Hey! Were you watching those dice?"
     Jerry looked at him with answering horror. "What?" he cried. "I thought you was watching them."

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