The D was a hotel on Fremont Street. It was in the middle of the Las Vegas experience, miles from the strip. Mostly low rollers and old people dragging oxygen on wheels populated the hotel. You could get your picture taken with a woman who had the longest breasts in the world or a Gene Simmons look-alike. It was not the scene you’d see in an Ocean’s movie, but it was Vegas. Frank Sinatra had played The Nugget across the street before the strip turned into the mega hotel mecca it is today.

 Marilyn’s first client was Donny Barchek. He was the current World Champion of Poker winner. He was flush with cash and spending it like a fifteen-year-old. The room at The D was probably comped I figured.

The setup for Marilyn’s first job was not exactly the high end that Petra sent some of her associates to. Plus, I’d heard it wouldn’t be long before Barchek would need another big win to continue his Vegas lifestyle.

Petra did most of the screening of the clients, but I never left everything to her. I’d checked up on Barchek and learned that he was spending his winnings fast, and his surplus would soon turn to deficit if he didn’t win another big pot. Buying Marilyn for half the night would take about a quarter of his winnings. Really smart Donny, great money management plan. You could respect a rich billionaire who hired one of Petra’s ladies. It was efficient and sexy as hell if you could afford it. But Barchek? I got the sense he was buying women, cola products in quantity, and video games with his influx of cash. Nothing planned or smart about this guy; he just happened to be good at poker.

Marilyn walked in front of me to the bank of elevators. Every man, woman, and bartender looked as she passed. It was like seeing Elvis in Kalamazoo, Michigan. This woman WAS Marilyn. She was real and wiggling through the slot machines in front of them. But I kept her moving, and before anyone could get an iPhone full of her, we were in the elevator. I could see the tabloid headlines she’d inspire if she appeared too often in the general public. “Marilyn Monroe ALIVE! Alien ship discovered in Omaha!” She’d draw a crowd, and I made a mental note to pass that bit on to whoever guarded her next.

I pressed for the penthouse, and we rode up in silence. My eyes were trained on the numbers when I felt a hand reach out to mine. She’d grabbed the tips of my fingers with hers and squeezed. I squeezed back. She took back her hand and fluffed her hair. This woman knew how to work me. We’d see if she could work her client.

Barchek was waiting as the elevator doors opened.

“Holy shit.” That was his immediate reaction upon seeing her.

“I hope that means you’re happy to see me,” Marilyn replied with a sauciness that was straight out of Gentleman Prefer Blondes. She said she liked vintage. She was vintage.

“Yeah baby, it does. Very happy.”  Barchek took her hand and drew her forward. He slipped his other hand around her waist and I saw his fingers slide under the fabric of her dress. I swallowed hard. Marilyn didn’t look back as Barchek escorted her to his room. She was out of my sight, but only for a second.

There were only eight rooms on the top floor, and I would do my work next to theirs.

I slid the key card and quickly turned on my three monitors. No part of the room would be hidden. It was then I realized she’d never given me a safe word. Shit.

Shit shit shit. That was all I could think.

No word meant I would have to watch every second even more carefully.

I cracked open my bottled water. I always had bottled water, nothing else, during the assignments. No alcohol or caffeine to interfere with the job at hand.

I reasoned that this was something I’d done hundreds of times before. Watching Marilyn would be no different than my other assignments with Petra’s associates.

Barchek decided to get right to it. No preamble whatsoever.

Marilyn stood by the bed, and he took a second to look at her. So did I. She was taking slow breaths, and her chest rose and fell with each one. Those spaghetti straps were being asked to do a lot.

“God, you’re like her come alive. Wait until they see you. So how do you taste?”

“Sweet, I hope,” she said, in that voice that did as much as her body to turn a man on.

Barchek grabbed her face. He pecked at her lips first, then again, and then went in for something deeper. He opened her mouth with his tongue, and she responded with a sway toward him. Her hips came forward, her chest pressed into his. He pulled back.

“Turn around.”  Barchek instructed her, and she did what she was told. My camera in the bedroom was mounted on the ceiling light, so I had a bird’s eye view of the action. If he moved her to the bathroom or seating area, I was also prepared.

Barchek undid the zipper, and Marilyn’s dress was now loose, held up only by the tiny straps. As soft as she was, her collarbone and shoulders had an edge to them. I marveled at how much I’d wanted to study each curve and hollow. I’d seen so many women in this same position, and not that I didn’t appreciate their beauty, but I figured my attitude was like a doctor’s. You see a lot of body parts and they don’t make an impression. You’re looking for symptoms of distress as you watch an associate and a client. But I caught myself imagining switching places with Barchek. This was a first. One I should have stopped. Remember how I could train my mind to do what I wanted it to? That was gone. Totally gone.

Barchek did what any man would want to do, what I’d visualized when I’d zipped her in the dress if I'm honest with you. He slid his hands inside the fabric to the front and squeezed both of her full breasts.

Marilyn moaned at this point and leaned her hips back into Barchek’s. He popped her breasts above the dress which served them up right up to me with my bird’s eye view. Her areolae were light pink, tiny, little buds. They were ready for Barchek, and I watched as he pinched both nipples while licking the back of her neck. Every part of Marilyn’s body screamed that this was what she was made for. She reached back and grabbed Barchek’s head. She arched and her back and her exquisite breasts lifted. I imagined that her soft skin had to be as sweet it looked. She licked her own lips, almost reading my mind it seemed.

I stood up and took a step back. I took a ragged breath. I absently noticed my fist was digging into a nearby pillow. But I didn’t look away.

Barchek freed Marilyn from her dress, and she now stood there in a tiny thong and heels. I bit my lip and tasted a little coppery blood in my mouth. Barchek licked her shoulders and began to kneel down so his head was at her rounded little ass. He rubbed his face on her and then I heard her. It sounded like a little gasp of pain. I leaned in closer to the screen. What the hell was he doing back there?

Barchek was biting her ass cheeks. He bit one and then the other. His teeth didn’t draw blood. She gasped a bit, the kind that shows it hurts, but hurts so good.

“Ooh, sharp,” she moaned like she dug him biting her ass cheek. Man, Marilyn had it down. She’d been good on the pole apparently, and now just as good off it. Damn Petra. Marilyn seemed to be enjoying her job, more than I wanted to know.

I focused in on her eyes, her mouth. She used her own teeth to bite her lip. Barchek was biting her flesh because it looked like cotton candy. Who wouldn’t want to, I supposed?

I threw my glass of water against the wall. It shattered. Shards of glass on the floor were a good metaphor for what I was currently experiencing. I didn’t have time to analyze this shit. I had to pay attention to be sure Marilyn was still into whatever Barchek was dealing out to her.

“Turn around.”  It was the same command and Marilyn did as she was told. “Time to fuck your brains out, movie star.”

“Yes, Donny.” Her breathy voice was its own aphrodisiac. Barchek liked it, but I had the guy pegged for an idiot. He might like her but he sure didn’t appreciate her the way I….. And I stopped that line of thought cold.

 Barchek pushed her onto the bed. God, why did he have to push her? She didn’t deserve to be fucking pushed around. But she didn’t mind, she got that he liked it so she cooed at him.

My bird’s eye view now mostly consisted of Barchek removing his clothes and putting on the contract-required condom. As he did, I focused on just her. Her face and body and not whatever the hell he was doing. She was in color and he was invisible.

She lay there on the bed, completely nude, vulnerable to whatever Barchek wanted. And then she looked directly up to the camera. Almost as if she knew where I’d placed it. I could swear she was looking at me. A lock of her hair dipped over her eye in that second, and she fixed a dangerously sexy look at the ceiling. At me?  My heart stopped and I held my breath. I stared back at the screen and was startled as Barchek climbed all over her. I’d forgotten for a moment he was even there.

Marilyn kept her gaze on the camera, and somehow it was Fuckhaussen Syndrome by Proxy. She was doing him but I was getting worked up, ridiculously worked up.

Barchek slid between her legs, and he also buried his head into her breasts. He grabbed one with both hands and squeezed her nipple. He muttered something like “fuck yeah” and started on the other side. It wasn’t much foreplay if you ask me, but having him get right to it might be the only mercy I was going to get tonight.

“Spread your legs wider like the dirty whore you are, come on. Show me how I turn you on.” Marilyn did as he instructed.

Barchek pulled back a little and hovered over her. He was finally taking a moment to appreciate the view. Goddammit, so was I.

With the hi-def of my equipment, I could watch her just like a porno playing out. She touched herself for him. Her skin was perfect. She taunted Donny a bit as he wanted. A groan escaped, and I’d like to say it was Donny’s, but it came from me.

I couldn’t see Donny’s hands, but I didn’t need to. He was getting himself started while she put on a show for him.

“I can see you’re ready already. You like it, don’t you.” My sound system didn’t miss the dirty talk. Nope, got every word.

Marilyn squirmed a bit on the bed as Donny worked himself into a fury. “You’re begging for it already, greedy. You can’t take it, can you? You want me in there right now, don’t you baby. You like that? You want that?”

“Yes, yes!” She answered.

It was enough of a show for him. He climbed on top of her. I watched her face closely. She gave no sign that she was anything other than into it. Her mouth curved into a smile, her eyes were dreamy, half-closed.

“Open your eyes!” Donny barked and her lids snapped open. “That’s it, baby. You keep those eyes on me. You see who’s giving it to you good. You got that? You’re gonna remember how Donny Barchek feels.”

“Mmmm,” she moaned, her hips writhing.

Barchek raked his hands on her breasts, squeezed handfuls of flesh from her hips to her nipples, anywhere he could.

I couldn’t see her face anymore, just her legs on either side of Barchek’s. He grabbed each of her calves in each of his hands. He spread her even wider and I saw her toes curl, nails painted bright red, just like her lips.

“You like that, baby?”

“Mmmm,” she sighed.

“Good, you should always have your legs spread like this, shouldn’t you?”

She didn’t answer. My heart was a pounding in my chest, my nerves frayed.

“Shouldn’t you!”

“Yes,” her voice came out in a gasp. Was it pain?

“Yes!” She said it again and there was no mistaking the breathy arousal in her tone this time.

“Yes, what?”

“I should always keep my legs spread for you, Donny!”

“That’s right,” he growled. “That’s right. When Donny Barchek comes into a room, you better get on your back and get those legs spread wide.”

“Yes!”

“You want that? You want that?”

“Yes!” She was either actually enjoying this or the best actress in the world. The guy’s sex talk was ridiculous and she made him think he was Casanova or something.

Barchek smashed Marilyn’s head into the metal headboard. Mercifully for me, he stopped talking or lost the ability to at least. It helped me block him out and return to just her.

 She nibbled his ear, massaged his neck.

 She was too sweet for his shitty talk and the piss poor sex he offered up. Yes, dumbass that I am, I’d decided she was sweet. Even with her legs spread open, for the likes of Barchek, she still seemed sweet to me. Maybe I was just the big dumb guy I looked like.

When Barchek finally let go of her calves, Marilyn wrapped a leg around Barchek’s scrawny body as he pumped into her.  She did the dance. She moved with him or tried to. This guy had no idea how to make love to a woman, much less fuck their brains out as he’d bragged. She was tried to control the rhythm. Donny was awkward and rough but Marilyn made the best of it. Maybe Petra was right about her. She was savvy enough to let him think he was good. Any man with have a brain could see Barchek was not the last of the red hot lovers.

I grabbed another pillow and started clawing at it. Marilyn held on and made Barchek feel special like she was paid to do. She moaned, screamed even, as she tried to match his uneven strokes. If she didn’t like it, no one could tell. And for sure, Barchek was feeling like King Kong about then.

I didn’t like the look of his grasping fingers digging into her white thighs. Was this hurting her? Was this too much? Barchek lowered his mouth to her breast and started biting again. Neither of them seemed to notice that her head was repeatedly banging into the headboard? Barchek ran his tongue up and down her nipples and as he did she started chanting, “Donny, oh, oh…”

And then in a few short seconds, he exploded with a, “Oh, OH, and YEAH!!!!!”

 I threw the pillow across the room.

I wanted to look away, but just then, Marilyn opened her eyes again and looked at the camera.

“That was good, baby,” said Barchek. “You’re a fucking wet dream. You are so lucky I found you! I’m going to set you up.”

“Thank you sugar,” was her sweet reply.

“Oh, some top dogs are going to owe me after they get you. Oh yeah, I done good finding you.” Barchek was now rambling on about god knows what. Was he trying to get it for free later? I had no idea.

“I gotta go to the can. Join me in there in five minutes. I want you to suck me off.”

Barchek got off the bed, and it was almost like Marilyn and I were alone. I felt connected to her. Why? What the hell for? She was looking up at a hotel ceiling, not at me. I knew this rationally. But I reached out and touched the screen.

That’s when it escaped. Whatever control I’d believed I had over my emotions slipped. Where does want come from? Desire? Coveting? All I know is that you see something and then you want it. Everything I saw in her fired up a want in me and the protectiveness gene that was always there mutated into something more.

Maybe that’s why I believed she was not like one of Petra’s regular associates. I wanted to believe that Petra had misjudged this. But logic was not completely gone, and if I was honest, there was no evidence that she wasn’t totally into it. In fact, she’d done a fucking fantastic job fucking. I’ve watched a fuck ton of fucking and she had minimal raw material to work with in Barchek, and she made it look hot as hell.

Barchek yelled at her from the bathroom. “Let’s go. We’re on the clock.” And I watched as she walked from the bed to the bathroom.

The shower scene started. He pulled her hair. Acted like the fool he was.

But Marilyn worked it, boy did she work it. She kneeled down on the tile, her naked breasts pressed up against his knobby knees. I was going to need my own shower. Watching her try to make it last for Barchek, it was damned skilled and selfless.

She tried to slow him down. He’d paid for good sex but he just didn’t have the patience or control for it. The sounds she made were indecipherable since her throat was otherwise occupied. Barchek was easy to hear as he yelled, “Fuck YES! That’s the best goddamn blowjob I’ve ever had.”  Barchek staggered back and leaned on the sink vanity as Marilyn stayed submissively on her knees.

“I’m going to clean up. You can after, sweetheart.”

“Can I help?” Marilyn offered.

“No, I gotta take a crap. Do you wanna watch that?”

With that, Marilyn exited the bathroom. If Barchek had a third go round in him, he’d better hurry. Time was running out. This man was a pig.

It appeared he did not, in fact, have a third time in him. He got dressed and allowed Marilyn to use the bathroom. She was alone for a moment in the bathroom. The camera caught her as she ran the water and worked a little lather into a washcloth. I watched as she ran the cloth behind her long neck, down her breasts, the suds trailing to her nipples. She was completely nude, her clothes still in a heap in the other room. She took the cloth and ran it across her soft stomach, as she’d done before she looked up, right into my camera, into me. Her skin was flawless and all one gorgeous creamy color. Did she mean to look at me? I think she did. I could stand there and watch her with that washcloth forever.

Fucking duty called again, “Let’s go bitch. My time’s up,” yelled Barchek from the other room. Marilyn put down the cloth and joined Barchek in the bedroom.

Marilyn had been hired for a few short hours, a tiny assignment. It was the longest few hours of my life, but time, as Barchek had howled, was up.

Barchek did up his pants as Marilyn put her dress back on and struggled to zip it. She still had a few inches that were impossible to do alone. Barchek did not offer to help.

“Expect some bookings from some high rollers baby, and don’t forget I was the one who got you there. I’ll expect a little payback.”

“It’s been lovely,” Marilyn said as she exited Barchek’s room. Dumbass did not take advantage of the incredible view of her backside, exposed by the undone zipper. Good. Don’t look again, asshole.

The surveillance room had been paid for, but I was stunned to see what I’d done while watching Marilyn.

I’d need to come back and clean up my mess. I put a call into the front desk to check Marilyn out but not me. I’d need to get back here.

 As I closed the door to meet Marilyn in the hall, I glanced at the pillow stuffing littered throughout the room. The Broken glass shattered on the floor. I’d made a mess in an effort not to grab her away from Barchek.  It looked like Siegfried and Roy and their performing tigers had rented the room. Petra would not like this at all, but there was no permanent damage to the place, just fucking fluff and glass everywhere. I’d clean up my mess later. Marilyn was my only job right then.

She walked toward me in the hall, slightly disheveled, and on coltish legs. She seemed unsteady but taking one step at a time anyway. She had a smile on her face.

“Not so bad. Did you like that?” She asked as we entered the elevator.

“Just as much as you did,” I replied, with that uncharitable desire to hurt her a little rearing its ugly head. It was not fair to her. She had no blame; she was hired to do a job and she did it. That her bodyguard was enamored with her was not her fault. It was so amateurish on my part that I was disgusted with myself.

“Was I bad at it?” I instantly felt bad for acting like a dick.

“You looked and sounded beautiful, and whatever they paid you wasn’t enough. Let me do that zipper. The lobby is still full of gamblers and they aren’t paying to see you.”

“Thanks, Lincoln.” I zipped her up, and as I did, she surprised me by leaning back into me, the length of her body needing support for a moment, I guessed. I was that, support.  I inhaled as her hair brushed just under my nose.

“Are you okay?” I whispered it into the top of her head. I had never seen a woman working for Petra so unsteady after a job. They were usually happy as hell and flushed with cash though this Barchek fucker was the worst lay in Las Vegas. It was a crime he’d been allowed in the same room as Marilyn.

“I am now.” And she stiffened her spine and stood up. “Thanks.”

“The valet has the car out front, so I’ll get you back home quickly.”

“Guess what?” The fizzy personality returned as we got further and further from the penthouse.

“I don’t guess.” I was trying not to show her how much even the smell of her hair had affected me.

“Fine, then I’ll tell you.”

“Great.”

“I thought up a safe word.” She turned to face me and then leaned in and her breasts brushed up against my now folded arms. I gave her the iciest stare I could muster.

“It won’t work unless I know it.”

“You’ll know it when you hear it.” She straightened up, and I hated myself for it, but I got a glance down at her enticing cleavage. What I saw made my blood boil.

Two faint teeth marks were forming on her perfect skin. I reached out without thinking and rubbed my thumb lightly over the spots. She gasped at the contact I’d made with her.

“You’re hurt.” I looked closer.

“It’s nothing. Just like when you get blisters from your stilettos after a night on stage, part of the deal, right?”

The elevator doors opened and I gently took her hand. She didn’t need to be pushed around anymore tonight, and I made a wedge through the gamblers to our car.

I would take her home and we see if it was “nothing.”  If there any more marks on her skin, Petra was going to hear from me.