Luck be a Lady

He had no interest in Vegas . . . that's what he said. Didn't drink . . . didn't gamble . . . had no reason to go. So despite my best efforts to entice him, he wouldn't meet me there when I came to town.

So, I packed in Vegas style. Every FMP, every short skirt, every glittery thing I owned went into the suitcase. Because even though he wouldn't be there, I wanted to look as hot as I could look, just for me.

And so I went down to the casino, with cleavage and short skirt and high heels, just for sport. I sat down at a three card poker table, ready for a long haul in a good game. As I played, I began to feel someone looking at me -- not a huge surprise, because, after all, it's Vegas, and everyone checks their inhibitions at the door. I looked around a bit to try and determine where the look was coming from. No luck, so I concentrated on the game.

The cocktail waitress came back around, and offered me a drink I hadn't ordered. She told me it was from a man 'over there' . . . I looked, and there he was. In a town he was sure he hated. I couldn't help but smile.

I raised my glass to him, and continued playing for a bit. After a few minutes, I felt him walk up behind me. He whispered in my ear, "I came all this way to watch you play cards?"

Needless to say, at that point playing cards went out the window. I finished the hand, colored up, and stood up to look him in the eye. "So what brings you here?" I asked.

"You know damn well why I'm here," he said.

"Shall we?"

So he and I play odd games . . . one chases, one resists, and this night would be no different. I knew of a band he would like that was playing in town, and suggested we go there to dance. His look told me that was not at all what he had in mind, but he gave in. So we went, and we danced ... in ways that should be considered illegal. Just short of finding a janitor's closet, I asked if he'd like to go back to my hotel.

No surprise that he considered that a good idea. The cab ride home was crazy . . . my hands on his cock outside his pants . . . his hands up my skirt . . . pretending the cab driver had no idea what was going on. I probably would have fucked him in that cab, but I had better ideas of how the night would go . . .

We got back to my room, and he put me up against the wall for an unbelievably hot kiss. After a minute or so, I broke it off and told him to sit on the bed. He made mild noises of protest . . . I promised him it would be worth it.

I'd brought speakers with me, and considered which music I would play. Decided on Chaka Khan's "Ain't Nobody" . . . and told him to sit on his hands while it started. I was already wearing something I knew he'd like -- short black skirt, boots with 4 inch heels, shirt which left not much to the imagination. Now it was time to take it off . . .

So I channeled my inner slut and did a striptease for him. I told him his hands had to stay out of commission, but to the beat of the music I began to undress myself, and then worked on him. By the time I started unbuttoning his shirt, I was doing a lap dance for him in bra and thong and boots, and I could tell it took all he had not to grab me. I'd tease him with a bit of a kiss, then back my ass up against his cock . . . and then, of course, move away. I knew he wasn't much of a drinker, but there was a bottle of Patron in the room, and I decided he should do a body shot from me. There was salt on a room service tray. I let him lick a trail between my breasts . . . poured the salt on it . . . fed him a shot . . . then had him lick the salt. That was almost more than I could take -- I grabbed one of his hands and pulled it to my insanely wet pussy. No shock that I came the minute he touched it . . .

And of course, at that point, I realized I was torturing myself just as much as him. I finished taking off his clothes, and pushed him back on the bed. I decided he shouldn't drink alone. I made a salt trail on his cock, did a shot, then took him in. After, I leaned down to kiss his lips as I mounted that beautiful, hard cock and began to ride him, slowly at first, my back arched, feeling nothing but him inside me.

I took off my bra as I fucked him, so that he could tease my nipples in that delightful way he has. Every minute or so, I'd lay down and get from him a hard, deep kiss . . . having to stop every now and then as he made me cum. I'd lost count of how many times, and realized he'd not yet had his favorite thing from me.

As much as I wanted him to cum in my pussy, I realized we had all night. So I moved off of him, and started teasing . . . with my fingertips on his inner thighs, my tongue on his chest and stomach, gradually moving down to take his cock in my mouth. Slowly, softly at first, just lips and tongue on the very head, then gradually drawing more and more of him in . . . sucking softly, then harder, then pulling his cock all the way into my throat and fucking him with my mouth. He made that noise which is indescribable, but that I love, which meant I was doing something right . . . I looked in his eyes while I sucked him -- him knowing that I wanted him to explode in my mouth so I could swallow. I varied the tempo -- slow and soft, then hard and fast, back and forth, with his balls in my hand and his cock in my mouth, and I could feel how close he was. I stopped for one second to say, "Cum for me, baby," then did all I could to make that happen. And he did . . . all the way into my mouth and throat . . . and it was all that I wanted.

I kept my mouth on his cock for a bit after it was done -- sucking lightly for the aftershocks. I finished undressing, then I moved my naked body up against him, curled up, kissed him for a while . . . and told him to rest up, because I was not yet done with him. He fell into a peaceful sleep, and I began to think about round two . . .