‘H-H- Hit me.” You whimpered as the sweat beaded between the creases in your forehead. You tried as hard as you could to focus on the cards in play and not on the aching need inside of you.

You were the only one still at the table, everyone else had long since passed out during the party. They were all sleeping soundly somewhere amidst the smoky mist that floated around the room still. It smelled faintly of lavender and burnt wood, designed to help everyone relax. You could only see it when it floated towards the singular light that hung above the table where you stood, the only people left, you and the dealer. You took a deep breath and felt the smoke fill your lungs relaxing every muscle in your body.

The card slid out from the shuffler and over to you. The dealer made a show of it, her glittery green fingernails sticking out from the green felt of the table. You followed the spiral pattern on the back of the cards with your eyes as it made its way closer to you, sliding across the table. She made a flourish of a wave with her other hand before flipping the card over, the spiral pattern on the back being pressed into the green felt, out of sight. You wished you could still see it.

“Plus 2. Hit or Rest.” The dealer purred as she pulled her hands back towards her side of the table. You watched them go, eyes traveling up her arms to her bare chest where on each of her generous breasts was painted a number. The left, a large 2. The right, a matching 1. 21.

Yes you were playing blackjack. That was it. 21, you needed to hit 21. You looked down at your cards. Face up was a 6 and a 2. 8. Beneath them an Ace. Yes, you should hit.

Hit sounded so good to you. You couldn’t remember why, but that word, it felt so prevalent, so strong, so enticing. You wanted, no needed to hit.

“Hit- Hit me.” As soon as the words left your mouth you felt your knees tremble under you as the tingling sensation crept up your legs. It crawled higher and higher setting all of your muscles loose, filling your nerves with pleasure. It moved higher and higher, joining at your hips before dipping down to pool just between them. 

You wished you were sitting in a chair, but there were no chairs in this game, at least not for good little players. And you were the best player, the only one left standing.

The dealer slipped out another card, sliding it slower this time, deliberately making you watch the spiral pattern inch closer. You stared intently at the twin blue lines, how they perfectly coiled around never intersecting with eachother. They spun inward, pulling you in closer, making you lean further and further over the table to look down at it.

They waved their hand over the pattern pulling you out of the daze that you were slowly sinking into. She smirked and slowly flipped the card over watching as you let out a dreamy sigh, head tilting to follow the spiral as it flipped over.

And suddenly you were back, standing up straight, staring at the King face up in front of you. 

Your mind struggled to do the math on the cards. A 6 and a 2 was 8. A King and an Ace was 21. Blackjack. But 21 and 8 was a bust. Mmmm bust…

Your head swirled as your eyes drifted back to the dealer’s bare chest. The 21 reminding you that you should bust.

“Hit or Rest.” They purred a smile on their lips already knowing your answer.

“Hit me…” You drew out the last word. You could feel the wet carpet on your toes and suddenly your brain started to grow wetter at the thought, nice slick thoughts dripping out of you. Your eyelids fluttered close, everything growing dark and blurry except for the vivid image of a dripping faucet in your head. You were the faucet dripping all those pretty thoughts away, drip, drip, drip, with each time you said Hit.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a Bust.” The dealer’s voice said sweetly, a twinge of sadism in each word.

Suddenly the faucet burst in your mind. A torrent of pleasure surged through your body igniting every single nerve in a roaring wave of arousal. 

Your knees slammed together as you came, the force erupting from deep within you threatening to drain away everything from you. Your hips shook, quivering as soft whimpers escaped your lips. Your legs gave out as your arms slammed into the table keeping you just barely hanging in, holding you up. Your eyes drifted open slowly, vision blocked out by tears as you panted heavily. You had to stay in the game. You had to keep feeling good. You were such a good player.

The sound of the shuffling machine roared like a dry heat through your brain and body. All those nice wet thoughts you had were replaced by a dry, aching heat. Suddenly you were thirstier than you had ever been before. Your faucet all dried up.

You shook your head and pulled yourself back up standing with immense force, legs barely strong enough to hold you up.

“Would you like to play again?” The dealer asked sweetly, fingers tapping lightly on the cards.

“Deal me in.” You said, throat rasping dryly. You needed to open your faucet again, you needed to win.

They flipped the first card over to you face up, a Jack. You panted excitedly, yes, yes, this was it. One to them face down. The next to you, a second Jack. Once more to them, a 2 face up.

Two chances. Two. “I want to split.” You said bouncing excitedly not even thinking about the words leaving your mouth.

“Very well. Double the chances to win or lose.” The dealer parted the cards and you subconsciously felt your legs spreading below you. Your hands drifted down, slowly spreading yourself further, opening yourself up for what was next.

The dealer reached down, dragging the first card over. They snapped it face up without even letting you glance at the spiral. A 4. Jack and a 4. Fourteen.

Then came the other side. They moved slower, letting your eyes linger on the way the light shone in the glitter on their nails. They flipped it face up. An 8. Jack and a 8. Eighteen.

“Hit. Or. Rest.” They gestured to the fourteen, a gentle wave of their hand drawing your eye line.

“Hit me!”

Your vision swirled as you saw the spiral topped card be pushed towards you. Each inch of it moving closer felt as if it was being pushed inside of you. You could feel it slide into you pushing deeper and deeper. They snapped, your head snapping up to their chest, eyes fixed on the 2 and 1 bouncing lightly. They snapped again, your head snapping downward, towards the cards. A 6 sat there face up.Twenty.

“Hit. Or. Rest.” She gestured with a wave of her hand over to the eighteen, fingers blurring into a smudgy trail in the air as your focus faded by the second.

“Hit- Hit me.” 

Your eyes fluttered as the new card inched ever closer, you could feel it pressing against your body, pushing ever deeper into your body and mind, the anticipation building you up deeper, blurring your mind with more pleasure. You pulled wider, prepared for what came next.

She snapped, your eyes pulled right to her perky tits. Your vision pulsed outward, slowly the 2 and 1 once more coming into focus. Each breath she took bouncing the numbers further into your head. You could feel them digging deeper and deeper in pulsing in front of your vision.

She snapped once and your head fell into your chest, eyes fixated loosely on the cards. The number 21 bounced around obscuring the cards entirely from view. All you could focus on was 21. 

“Hit me. Hit me.” You said gesturing to both sets of cards. Your words slurred from a lack of focus, the full feeling pushing everything out of your mind except for the numbers dancing in front of your vision.

“Are you sure you want to Hit?” The dealer called softly, her fingers dancing over the cards, light bouncing off of her nails to distract you.

“Mhm…. Hit me….” You whined, nothing except thoughts of 21 filling your head. You needed 21, had to Bust. Must Bust.

You watched as she slowly slid the cards over to you, leaving the spirals turned up. She reached down and turned the card on the left up revealing a 2. Slowly she thumbed the card on the right, the flip revealing a 1.

You gasped, eyes rolling back into your head as the numbers burned their way into your mind. They stretched you, filling you further, bringing you right up to the edge of bliss, holding you there tightly on the edge of the cliff, holding tightly to the numbers of 2 and 1.

“I’m sorry, but both are a Bust.”

You cried out, legs giving out entirely as you sunk to the wet carpet below. You felt yourself soak into it, the faucet breaking entirely. You felt yourself drip and drop into it, sinking into the puddle of yourself. Your mind liquifying into nothing but a puddle of water, washing every thought into nothing but pleasure. You felt it wash over you, erasing everything except thoughts of dripping into pleasure.

A distant part of you could feel your orgasm roaring through you, could feel yourself leaking like a faucet, dripping all of yourself away. You could feel it coating your legs, leaving you more and more wet, dripping further and further down into the carpet. Slowly as every last little bit of yourself dripped away into a puddle of endless bliss.

“Would you like to play again?”

The dealer’s voice rippled through the haze and over you parting the waves of pleasure. Your eyes opened slowly looking up at the bouncing pair of breasts in front of you. Even through the hazy blur of pleasure you could make out the overwhelming power of the numbers 2 and 1 swinging in front of your vision as the dealer swayed back and forth.

“Hit me…” You drew out gasping for breath as if you were pushing yourself back up to the surface.

The dealer smiled down at you. “I’m sorry. But you seem to have hit a Bust.”

Your eyes slammed closed as you lay there twitching. Your hips rocked against the floor, the waves rushing through you. With each motion you slipped further and further down, disappearing beneath the surface of the waves. Some part of you felt yourself dripping away, feeling yourself being washed down the drain, even trying to resist seemed useless. Not that you really wanted to try, after all, you did win the game.

And tomorrow, you could play again.