Connie didn't think she had heard him correctly. She could not believe her ears. "What's wrong, Gil?" she asked.
"Nothing's wrong as soon as you get your ass out of here," he said.
"Gil! But you said – I mean, our agreement? Okay, then, if you're not hungry now forget it. I'm sorry."
"I said to get your ass out of my room," he repeated. "Now!"
"Gil, you can't mean what you're saying."
He jumped up, went to his pants and withdrew his wallet. He withdrew some bills, placed them in her hand, then gathered her clothes and opened the door. Still naked, he shoved her out into the hallway and threw her clothes after her. "I gave you a tip," he said. "You asked for two-fifty, right? Well, there's three. It's more than you're worth. Think of it as a tip. Thanks for the lay."
He slammed the door.
Connie stood with tears streaming down her, cheeks, trying to cover her nakedness with her clothing and glancing from side to side. Fortunately, there was nobody in sight. She unclenched her fist and stared at the bills. They were one dollar bills. Just as he had said, plus a fifty-cent tip.
"You rotten son of a bitch," she said. "You dirty, rotten son of a bitch."
CHAPTER FIVE
Closing night at the Lucky Nuggett went extremely well and Gil Turner was easily able to negotiate a five-hundred dollar a week raise for Sherry's return engagement in September. It was three days later when they arrived at the Alpine Hotel in Lake Tahoe. Sherry and her father flew, as always, but their accompaniment, The Sunbeams, made the ten-hour drive by auto. Victor Redgrave rented a car at the airport early that afternoon and by late afternoon the group had set up and rehearsed briefly in the Alpine Lounge.
Gil Turner had stayed in Las Vegas on business with another of the acts he handled but he had been able to secure a similar raise in salary for Sherry at the new gig, too, and this made her and her father happy. Greg Jennings, the entertainment director at the Alpine, verified the raise upon their arrival.
"Despite the fact that he drinks too much, Gil's a fairly good businessman," Victor said to Sherry as they drove to their motel. The Alpine, unlike the Lucky Nuggett, did not furnish rooms for lounge acts and so they had rented a luxurious, rustic apartment overlooking the lake and just a five-minute drive from the Alpine.
"I wonder how he and the cocktail waitress, Connie, made out?" Sherry asked as they arrived at their motel.
"Who knows," her father said. "Probably just another piece of ass to Gil," he said. "Along with the usual pack of lies, of course."
When they had finished unpacking, Sherry said, "Daddy, I don't feel like a nap. It's still early yet and I don't feel like just hanging around the motel. It's so nice to be back among the tall trees and the water. Could we just take a walk and dig nature?"
"All right," her father said.
They went out and began walking along the shore of the lake for perhaps a quarter-mile, then headed through the trees inland up a slight incline. They hiked several miles and below them the lake was deep blue. A slight breeze had come up and there were whitecaps riding the surface. A few small craft, mostly sailboats, skimmed the surface, their sails full and white against the darker water. Victor paused to catch his breath, leaning against a big pine tree for support. Then, suddenly, he pushed Sherry behind the tree and held his finger to his lips to indicate silence. Silently, he pointed and Sherry peered around the tree. Not twenty-yards distant lay a handsome dark-haired man in his early twenties. He lay on his back on the ground, his pants pulled down to his ankles, and his brownish hard-on stood straight up in the air. Sherry gasped, holding her hand to her mouth. The man's prick was easily the most immense male organ she had ever laid eyes on. On either side of him was a young girl, both very young and both very beautiful, and the girls were kissing his face adoringly and running their fingers through his hair and over his stomach. The girls wore hot pants and Sherry could see that they wore no bras beneath their skimpy, silken blouses.
"Good Lord," Sherry said. "You'd think they'd go to a motel or something."
"Shhh," Victor said. "Let's watch."
The girls were beautiful – gorgeous – and, from their hair and enormous breasts, Sherry guessed them to be showgirls. The man seemed totally relaxed, allowing them to have their way with him, except each of his hands was up under their blouses fondling their ample tits. In a moment, one of the girls – a redhead – grasped the man's huge cock and massaged it while the blonde tickled the man's breasts and soul-kissed him passionately. The scene was making Sherry's pussy mushy.