Ace of the Four Queens Hotel
A Las Vegas sex worker begins questioning his identity after a strange encounter with a client.
I’m a Las Vegas sex worker. I live on the 13th floor of the Four Queens Hotel with the other guys in the stable. It’s a good life. We gamble, we drink, we do drugs. All on the Queens’ dime.
And we fuck. The Four Queens is a pleasure palace where rich women can live out their sexual fantasies with highly-trained, state-certified sex workers like me.
There are other departments, but I’ve always worked in Gang Bangs. I’ve been here long enough that I’ve got a few regulars who request that I bat first. I guess with Jimmy leaving the hotel, I’m unofficially the Ace of The Four Queens.
Some of the guys think one of my regulars is gonna invite me to leave the hotel, but I doubt it. They all know I love my life here and it’d be awkward if I had to reject them.
Carissa’s the most likely to ask. She gets all sentimental. She always has me bat first and recently she’s had be in the cleanup/cuddle position as well. I had a weird feeling about her last week when she hired us for her birthday and she kept moaning and whispering “you’re not real” in my ear. I guess she needs to fantasize about the fantasy sometimes.
I never used to think about my life before coming to The Four Queens but I guess with Jim’s leaving and Carissa saying weird shit, I’m getting a little sentimental myself. They always said this could happen, so I guess I’ll just ignore it until I can’t anymore, kinda like when I wanna finish but I know my client is looking for a longer experience. I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing.
My first night at the hotel was with Genie. She was the Queen of Diamonds at the time and I knew it was a big opportunity for me. I was pretty nervous and she told me I was doing a great job. I held on for as long as I could and I guess she got what she wanted because she seemed to be happy when I finished like a gentleman.
”You’re not real.”
Oh shit, I got lost again thinking about my past. Good thing Carissa called me back to the present because I’m about ready to finish. Where did she ask for it? She’s been leaving it up to me lately. Gentlemen’s Finish is always safe but she’s been more adventurous the last few times.
Carissa giggles when I finish on her stomach and Jackson steps in to bat second. Did I see a bit of disappointment in her eyes or am I just overthinking it? It’s a lot of pressure to be the Ace.
The Manager’s got my shower going and I’m about to step in when it shuts off. “Sorry,” she says, listening to something in her ear. “You’ve got a caller at the bar. Make it quick, Carissa’s gonna want you for cleanup.”
Management would never risk screwing up the timing for an important regular like Carissa unless someone even more important was at the bar.
I pull my clothes on and straighten my hair under the impatient watch of the Manager. When I get out to the bar, I feel self conscious. Do I look like I’ve just been fucking? Can they smell it on me? Do they know I’m working?
Of course they do. At least whoever wants to see me does. The Queen of Spades is sitting by herself at a two-top looking at me. So that’s what this is all about. Is she gonna official make me the Ace? Weird time to do it.
I sit down across from her and my martini arrives without either of us ordering it. She doesn’t say anything and you don’t speak to the Queens unless you’ve been spoken to. Especially if you don’t even know her name. I’ve never exchanged a single word with the Queen of Spades, only seen her in passing a few times.
She takes me in for a few long moments. Part of me wants to look down, but I can tell this is an important opportunity and I’m going to show up for it.
We maintain eye contact. Her gaze is still but I can’t help but look from one eye to the other. I can hear my heart beat.
”Thank you,” she says and I know I’m not supposed to ask for what. She clinks my glass, drains her drink, and is gone. The Manager is signaling for me.
”You’re not real!” Carissa is wailing, and fuck where did I go? I’m finishing in her and she’s never asked me to do that before. We’re gaze locked and there’s a little bit of fear in her eyes.
The cuddle is long and when she finally breaks it, she’s got a sad smile on her face. ”Thank you,” she says and I know I’m not supposed to ask for what.