The bar was a serene island in the midst of the clanking of coins and mechanical whirring as the sea of people inserted their dollars into, and sometimes took them from, the rows of gambling machines in Caesar's Palace. I had retreated to the bar for a large gin and tonic, having had enough of winning, and then losing, for the time being and was idly watching my fellow drinkers. Men and women, who had obviously only just met, pairing off and disappearing to the elevators to add sex to their indulgence in an orgy of alcohol and gambling. The bartender wandered over toward me and I answered his expectant gaze, "I'll have another, please, barman."
"Sure," he muttered, "You an Aussie?"
Aware that my abrupt, "No," was curt, I added, "A Brit, from the UK, a very different accent!"
It was at that moment that I heard the soft tones of a female, Birmingham, England, accent ordering a Screwdriver from one of my helpmate's colleagues. I looked round, anxious to appear casual, and saw Sandy, as I was to learn was her name, perched on a stool some distance from me. She had recognised my accent and her lips, with their pronounced Cupid 's Bow, parted in a half-smile.
After a moment, I wandered over to her and said, "Couldn't help but notice the Brit accent, I'm afraid we Brits stick out like sore thumbs in here." She laughed as I drank in the slim figure dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans, the shirt bulging outwards over her breasts and the tight jeans seemingly painted onto her legs. My gaze returned to her face: jet-black hair, ebony eyes, pert rounded, maybe broad, nose and full lips. "Hmm, gorgeous," I thought.
"Well," she announced, "I'm going to go and get something to eat," and paused, adding after a brief silence, "Coming with me? Or aren't you all on your own like me? I'm Sandy by the way and I think you've guessed where I'm from!"
"OK, fine, I'd love to," I confirmed, "Yes, I am here on my own. I'm Max, born near London but resident in Dorset." We duly made our way to one of the restaurants and chatted about our various adventures during our tours of the West Coast. I said I was going up to the Hoover Dam in the morning, suggested to Sandy that she come with me in my car and that the following day she could drive me somewhere in her car.
"Great idea," she enthused, "Someone to talk to, someone to share the sights with but afterwards we do our own things, OK? In case you haven't noticed, I'm a girl, love going round the shops and that's not exactly a man's thing, is it?"
I was tempted to say that, in those tight clothes, I could hardly miss that she was a girl. "OK, fine," I said. "How about we meet here for breakfast at, say, eight?"
We spent the next couple of days on our trips and then parting so that she could go shopping. On the third day, our last in Vegas, we wandered up The Strip and she accepted my invitation to come to the show at The Stardust with me, followed by dinner at Caesar's best restaurant as my treat. We decided to walk from Caesar's to The Stardust and had nearly reached our destination on the return journey when there was a flash of lightening and the heavens opened. Within seconds we were both soaked to the skin. As we squelched our way through the gambling hall to the elevators, I suggested to Sandy that we go to my room, have hot showers, dry our clothes on the aircon and that I arrange dinner through room service. I was delighted by her sexy, "Mmm, sounds good."
As soon as we got to my room, Sandy giggled, "I'm off to the shower, order whatever you like, I'll eat anything, a horse, I'm that starved!" She disappeared into the bathroom but left the door ajar. I sat wondering if that was an invitation to join her or simply that she trusted me. Lost in those thoughts, and others of her naked in the shower, for a moment, I remembered food and rang down for room service.
A few minutes later, Sandy emerged, clad in a white towelling Caesar's Palace robe and carrying her clothes, which she placed carefully on the aircon unit. I couldn't help noticing that she paid particular attention to the very brief lacy, silk bra and matching, miniscule, G-string – it was as if she wanted to make sure I took in every detail of them.
"Not been very original, Sandy," I mumbled. "I've ordered mushrooms au gratin to start, steaks with all the trimmings and chocolate gateaux with cream. Oh, and two large thermos flasks of coffee and a couple of bottles of champagne."
She giggled, "You gonna try to get me drunk, Max? Watcha gonna do to me if I get tipsy?"
I laughed. "No, I won't force you to drink. You drink as much or as little as you like and, well, the evening will unfold in its own way, won't it?"
After dinner, I deliberately left the table first, taking the opened, but as yet unused, second bottle of champagne with me and saying, "Well, I'm going to recline on the sofa." My purpose was to see if she would join me and where she would sit – what signals, if any, she would give me.
"OK, coming," she chuckled and joined me on the sofa, seating herself close next to me. "Feel a bit sleepy and a bit tipsy," she mumbled. "Don't mind if I rest my head on your shoulder, do you?"
"'Course not," I assured her and turned to lightly kiss the hair on the top of her head.
"Mmm," she murmured as she turned her head to look up at me, "What was that for?"
"Oh, just thanks for a super time these last few days."
"Huh," she snorted, "That all?"
I looked down as her lips parted in that inviting smile and mine met them briefly.
"That the best kiss I get, then?" she whispered, "Sandy want more!"
Our lips met and the minutes passed as our tongues frantically explored the depths of each other's mouths. I sensed her breathing becoming deeper, slower and felt her arch her body toward me, pressing her breasts into my chest. We slipped sideways and momentarily lay prone on the sofa before sliding gently to the floor. My lips moved downward, caressing her throat, moving at a snail's pace lower toward the robe encompassing her body. It slowly inched back to reveal her hard, erect, nipple surrounded by its ample, browny-pink, aureole which finally entered my mouth.
My tongue caressed it gently, motions changing direction and pace, occasionally sucking, sometimes withdrawing to blow gently, making the wetness feel cold to her, the chill making her nipple harder, firmer and more desperate for attention. My hand eased inside the robe to pay equal attention to her other breast. I parted my fingers, brushing them with varying pressure and speed across the hard protuberance, feeling the nipple pushed this way and that with each movement of my hand. Sometimes I stopped and gently cupped her breast in my hand, gently squeezing the nipple between my finger and my thumb. Then I changed, hand became mouth and mouth became hand. There was no hurry, I knew she had a direct line from her nipples to her clit and the more attention they got, the more aroused they became, the more desperate her clit would become.
She reached down into my robe. "Hell, don't need to do anything to arouse that, do I?" she giggled. "Solid as a rock, aren't you?"
"Hmm," I mumbled, pulling her hand away. "Not yet, Sandy, I just want you to lie there and concentrate on what I'm doing to you, no distractions like playing with my cock. OK?"
"You joking," she laughed. "Love what you're doing to me. More please! Much more!"
I made no attempt to move from her breasts until I felt her hips gyrate, so slowly and gently it was something of which she probably was not aware, and her breathing change to shorter, impatient breaths. My lips moved on slowly, kissing licking, blowing to chill her warm flesh onward and downward to her navel, where they paused and seemingly stuck until I sensed her impatience once more. Inching on, they met the tiny, neatly trimmed, strip of jet-black hair and finally my tongue caressed her clit briefly before inching back to the short curls. I sensed her anger, "Is that all I'm going to get?" It was deliberate and my tongue quickly returned to her clit. I varied my motions, making circles, up and down, left to right, different pressures, sometimes sucking, sometimes blowing gently, until I sensed more urgency in the movement of her hips. Then I knew exactly what turned Sandy on and she was going to get all she could take!
Within minutes, her hips bucked wildly, so hard I had to grip her bum to stop her throwing my mouth off of her delicious, wet, warm, pink clit. "Oh, oh hell," she gasped as her bucking subsided, "I came big-time." My attentions did not abate and, in the next two hours, Sandy came and came again: sometimes single orgasms, sometimes violent multiple ones with her completely body convulsing in the ecstasy.
"Hey," she mumbled, "Enough! Well, it isn't – I'd like a hell of a lot more, for you to make me keep coming like that until I scream for you to stop because pleasure has become pain or I just can't take anymore. But, it's my turn now, so lay back. I'm going to make you beg me to let you come!"
I moved up and our lips met, her tongue drawing in every last taste of her from me. "Hmm, you taste of me, my cum, my clit, nice!" she mumbled. Her lips left mine and inched downward in kisses, licks and sucks until I shuddered as they closed gently around my glans. "Hmm, circumcised," she breathed. "Nice," a pause, "Very nice and so bloody hard, it's like a lump of wood!" I quickly realised she was an expert – kisses, sucking, drawing me deep into her throat, gentle blowing sending icy chills through me, slow and ever faster gripping me with her tongue as her head pumped frantically up and down, pulling me into her mouth and sliding me out. She knew exactly when I was about to explode into her mouth, when the stream of hot white liquid would gush down her throat. She also knew that was the moment to change what she was doing so that I didn't cum. Time and again, she brought me so close and, time and again, she backed off. Time passed.
"Sandy, for God's sake, let me come," I yelled. "I don't care how you do it, hands, mouth, pussy but let me come!"
She didn't answer but my cock remained firmly implanted in her mouth and this time, as she brought me close, there was no change, she knew her throat would be blasted with my hot, sticky, cum. I shuddered as I shot my load and bawled, "Hell, yes, yes!"
I looked down, not knowing whether she would swallow or dash to the bathroom to spit it out. She swallowed, "Mmm, slightly salty, yours tastes nice, more please," she laughed. Our eyes met as she licked every last drop from me. She inched her way up and our lips met, a long, hard, kiss as the minutes passed. Our tongues met, toyed with one another and explored each other's mouth. Suddenly she pressed her lips hard to mine and put her hand behind my head, cementing them to hers. I heard a mumbled, "I've got a present for you" as I felt the unmistakable sticky warmness of my cum forced into my mouth. "Thought you may like a little of it back," she gurgled as she held on to me long enough to force me to swallow. I felt myself hardening again.
She broke free, laid back and gazed at me, her eyes pools of pitch floating in seas of white. She smirked. "Like more of what you did earlier please," she paused, "If you're willing that is. Want your tongue on my clit for ages and ages, make me cum and cum and cum and then I want you to fuck me! And I want that to start very slow and very gentle and get faster and harder until you're pumping in and out of my pussy so deep and hard you're fucking me silly, fucking my brains out. Am I a greedy, naughty, girl?"
"No," I whispered as my lips inched down to the tiny strip of black hair and warmth and wetness beyond. "Sounds great, I want to give you more of this, lots more," I mumbled as my mouth closed around her awaiting, hard, clit.
It was almost dawn and her hips had thrashed wildly countless times when she whispered, "Fuck me, Max, fuck me please."
I slid up on top of her and as our mouths met my rampant cock slid into her without need for any guidance: she was so wet, so warm, so ready that her pussy seemingly sucked it in. Our hips moved rhythmically in time, slowly drawing me deep inside her, slowly pushing me out. When she sensed danger ahead, she paused briefly and we lay still while she tightened her muscles, making her pussy grip, then free, my rock-hard cock. Danger passed and we resumed our motions. She rolled me over and sat up astride me. "Ha, now I'm in control!" She laughed. "You lay still, let me do the work!" She raised and lowered herself, taking my cock completely out of her before lowering, and impaling, herself on it. She leant forward, "Squeeze my nipples," she commanded. "Reach up and suck them hard," and I dutifully obeyed. Her movements accelerated -- impaled, free, impaled, free. Occasionally she stopped and I felt her exercising her muscles, tightening her pussy's grip on my rod then loosening, letting it feel her warmth and wetness. Her pace increased. "Like you to shove a finger or two up my arse," she mumbled. "Don't have to if you don't want but I want you all ways, going to lean down and kiss you, want you to squeeze my tits hard, I'll tell you if it's too hard, don't worry but until I do, keep squeezing them and my nipples. Want your cock pounding in and out me and to feel your fingers up my arse. Want your fingers in my arse to feel your cock up my cunt. Want you to drive me bloody crazy!" A gush of hot air rushed from her mouth, "Please, Max," she begged, "Drive Sandy really fucking wild."
Our mouths met, one hand gripped her tit, squeezing and distorting the soft, warm, orb, sometimes crushing her rock hard nipple. Two fingers, lubricated by the streams of wetness oozing from her pussy, slid into her arse. She gave a little gasp, "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Mmm, that's nice! Makes my cunt so tight around your cock! I've got it all! Tits and nipples being driven crazy, clit being sent insane by your cock, cunt being driven wild by it, arse being sent into sheer ecstasy by your fingers, mouth being driven mad by yours!" Her body thrust up and down frantically, "Sandy's gonna cum again, big-time, for the hundredth time tonight," she screamed, "And Max is going to spurt all that lovely salty spunk up her cunt as she does! Nnnnnnnnow – oh, yes, yes, yes." As I shot my load, she laughed, "Hell, Max, have you got a power hose down there? Hell, I felt the force of that sure enough. Should think you've shot it all up into my tummy!" She let out a deep sigh, "Coo, what force, what pressure. You nearly blew half my guts away!"
She climbed off of me. "Sandy's gotta have a rest now, Max. She can't take anymore of anything! Just need to be left in peace now! Why did we have to wait until our last night? We could have done this from the day we met and Sandy would have been a very happy, very sexually fulfilled, girl. She wouldn't have ended up alone in her hotel room shoving a dildo up her cunt every night, not with what you have on offer!"
She lay back, her pale skin lit and yellowed by the morning sunlight, and made no attempt to cover herself. Sensing my gaze, she mumbled, "I'm not being immodest, Max, you've just explored every part of me. You're not seeing anything you haven't already! Just feel like laying here, naked and free, for a while. Anyway, you're not covered, got your cock on full display and it looks to me as if it's getting hard again!"
She lifted her arms and folded them behind her head, "Mmm, maybe Sandy could take some more – lots of mouth on my clit first, then your cock pushed hard and deep up my cunt. Sandy want more, please! Lots more! All day long! Sandy want you licking her clit and ramming your cock up her cunt until dinner time tonight!"
What could I do? I dutifully, willingly, obeyed.