In the steam room, we’d sit around talking for hours, naked as the day we were born. Suddenly, a couple of giggling showgirls — also stark naked — would tiptoe in or, occasionally, Frank would have ladies of the night brought in. Then he’d disappear to a little massage room to have sex with them. He wasn’t the only one who did this, though I didn’t. We all knew what the wild and horny senator John F. Kennedy was up to when he came to Vegas. Even the comedian Bob Hope had a massage every day and women stashed all over the place.
There was no one like him, nor will there ever be again.
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