Vegas R&R

I'd gotten into Vegas the day before, 3 weeks into a 5-week road trip inspecting credit unions in California, Nevada ant Utah. Belinda, my wife, would be getting in later today. She's a title attorney in Los Angeles. She's, usually tied to her desk, but some sort of seminar was going to bring her to Vegas for a 3-day weekend, on expense account even. We'd planned our schedules so that our two professional merry-go-rounds would bring us to this place at about the same time. It was going to be good to see her, to say the least.

David, our son, was in his first year of the doctoral program in Radiochemistry at UNLV. I'd spent the afternoon with him before heading for the craps tables at the casino that evening. We'd had lunch at some place near the campus. While he'd gotten his favorite seat, facing the door, I'd picked the one that gave me a three-quarter view of a cute little coed who apparently preferred to eat in a semi-reclining position. Her plump thighs, curiously un-tanned for late summer in Vegas, were splayed languidly under the table.

I didn't sense any artifice there; it seemed to me that she was just totally at ease, immersed in conversation with the other people at her table, and completely unaware of the effect that those open thighs might be having on anyone else. That she might be one of those rare people who could be completely un-self-consciously sensual really raised her appeal for me. I've had several pussies pointed at me by women who thought that their asses were out of this world, and none of those displays could compete with this apparently innocent display of raw sexuality.

Usually I don't have much interest in young twenty-somethings, but this one really got to me. Throughout lunch my gaze kept returning to those creamy thighs, and my mind kept putting me between them, my stiff cock pounding into her young hole. But the timing was not right; my afternoon was already devoted to checking out my son's new digs and meeting some of his friends and teachers. So, we left the restaurant with me in a state of unrequited lust and him in a state of blissful ignorance. Just as well. Belinda and I had embarrassed him enough while he was a teenager just by walking next to him at the mall. I think that, even in his early 20s, he was still having trouble getting his head around the idea of anyone as old as his parents as sexual animals, so I didn't mention my arousal by that little girl at the next table.

Later that evening David and I headed for the casino where I staked him to $100 on the craps table, which he blew, and supper, which he inhaled. Then he headed home to study, with plans to rejoin Belinda and me for a late supper the following evening.

I headed back to the craps table, where the bones were good to me all night and well into this morning. By the time I dragged myself to my room around 11 a.m., I had almost 8 grand of the casino's money in my pockets. I carefully locked myself in the room, then stashed my loot in the closet safe. Next I did a quick shave, shower and shit before plopping down on the bed.

I tried to doze off, but the memory of that little coed's open thighs kept floating back into my head. In my mind I was my pulling her pantiess slowly over hips to reveal - what? "Nah," I thought. "Surely she doesn't shave her pubes completely; just a bikini trim at most and maybe not even that since she doesn't seem to get much sun. But of course it turns out that she's a natural blonde after all." Images kept coming, my face in her crotch; her face gasping and grimacing as I licked her to orgasm; her riding me as I started gasping toward orgasm myself.

This was not going to have me in any kind of shape for when Belinda arrived this afternoon. Somehow, I had to get that kid out of my head so that I could get some sleep. After thinking about it for a couple of minutes I got up and went to the closet. I opened the safe and pulled out my bankroll. Looking at it I recalled the old joke, "Hey, you now what's about 6 inches long, has a big round head on it and drives women wild?" In mixed company, unless everyone is pretty well liquored up, this usually gets smirks from the men and maybe, if you're lucky, a blush from one or two of the women, but nobody will volunteer the answer that they're all thinking about. Then you whip out a $100 bill and show it, to relieved laughter all around.

Anyway, I counted out eleven of the Benjamins and put the rest back in the safe. I spread the bills out on the desk by the window and beside them placed a condom that I'd gotten from the helpful bellhop when I checked in the day before. Then I got a phone number from the book and made a call.

"Hello, this is John Smith in room 2115 at the Bellagio... I'd like to arrange for an, ah, a masseuse for this afternoon.... No, I need to get some sleep now; let's make it, say, 4:30... Yes, a full hour... Yes, ah, full body sounds good... No, nobody particular in mind; just as long as she's good at what she does... No, it will be cash... Very good. Thank you."

With my plans made, I was able to banish the little coed from my thoughts. I'd been up for the last 30 hours, and with all of the adrenaline that flows around a craps table even winning money can wear you out. So it didn't take me any time at all to get to sleep. This was good because it didn't seem that I'd been asleep for very long when I heard a knock at the door.

I'd been too soundly asleep to know whether I was dreaming about the little creamy-thighed coed or about what I had planned for this afternoon, but something had been working on me in my sleep, because I woke up with a pretty good woody. I quickly palmed a Benjamin from the desk, got a towel off the rack and wrapped it around my waist as best I could. My boner tenting it out in front of me sure didn't leave much to the imagination, but I wasn't expecting anyone who would be embarrassed by that. Then I opened the door.

Before me was standing the loveliest lady I had ever seen. And I mean lady; she certainly wouldn't have been pegged as a hooker or a masseuse by anyone in the hotel. She blended right in with the business convention crowd, being nicely dressed in what I call business travel. Nice blouse with an attractive scarf. A knee-length skirt somewhere between A-line and full. Sensible but clearly expensive shoes. Sheer stockings. No jewelry visible except for an elegant watch and, I noted, a simple wedding set on her left ring finger. The little rolling suitcase behind her was a quality item as well.

"I..." she started to say.

"Shhhh," I said as I put a finger to her lips. "Don't talk. Just come in."

She looked at me speculatively for a moment, arching an eyebrow. Then she gave a little shrug, grabbed hold of the handle of her wheelie bag and came into the room.

I locked the door behind her and said, "I don't want to know your name or anything about you. For the next hour you're going to be Carol. There's a thousand dollars for you over on the desk. I guarantee that I won't hurt or humiliate you, but for the next hour, if you take the money, you're going earn it by doing everything that I tell you to. If that doesn't work for you, here's a hundred for coming over and you can take it and walk right back through that door now. It's totally your call."

Again she gave me the speculative look, then her upper lip curled in sort of an Ellen Barkin smile and she walked over to the desk. She looked down at the bills and the condom on the desk, picked up the money, counted it, held a couple of the bills up to the light so she could see the watermarks, then put all ten of them in a pocket in her skirt.

"Good Carol, I'm glad you decided to stay," I said as I dropped the towel. "Now, open your blouse and show me your tits."

She undid the top three buttons and was starting on the fourth when I told her, "No, that's enough. I want you to leave your blouse on. Just unhook your bra and let those lovely tits hang loose."

Happily, her bra had a front fastener. She unhooked it and pushed the cups to the side, exposing a pair of firm, not-too-large breasts with remarkably large aureoles surrounding nice-sized nipples. The nipples, I noticed, were already standing up.

"Why don't you bring those over here to me, Carol," I told her as I sat on the bed.

She walked slowly across the room, then lifted her skirt a bit to allow her to straddle my knees as she pushed her tits into my face. I immediately sucked one of the nipples into my mouth, swirling my tongue around her breast. Then I switched to her other nipple, again giving it a tongue lashing interspersed with little bites.

As I kept switching back from breast to breast, Carol began to squirm and make little gasping sounds. She tried to push her mound into my lap, but I held her firmly at her waist and wouldn't let her go down.

"Not yet Carol. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you've got to remember that this next hour is all about pleasing me. Be a good girl, though, and I'm sure you'll get your itch scratched before you leave. Now, I want you to get down there on your knees and suck my cock like you've never sucked cock before."

She stepped back and looked me in the eyes for a second, then she walked over to the table, stepped out of her shoes and took her glasses off. Returning to the bed she spread my knees apart and sank down between them. From that position she again locked eyes with me as she took the head of my prick between her lips and slowly began to suck it into her mouth. Inch by inch she continued to suck until she had about 2/3 of my length in her and I could feel myself hitting the back of her throat. At that point she began to move back up the shaft, all the time maintaining that steady sucking pressure, all the time looking into my eyes.

When she got to the top, she began interspersing little nibbles with light sweeps of her tongue around the glans. Suddenly, she plunged her mouth down my shaft again and gave it several huge sucks. Next she pulled me out of her mouth and then nibbled and licked her way down the underside of my prick until she was swishing her tongue around just where my prick joined my scrotum.

"Suck my balls," I gasped, and she reached under my sack and lifted it to her mouth, sucking in one and then the other.

God, that almost hurt, but it felt sooo fucking great! "Gently," I moaned. "Real Gently. I don't want to come yet."

Carol ran her tongue around my balls one last time then let them out of her mouth. She was about to go down on my dick again when I told her, "No, you're way too good at that. We've got a whole hour and I want to make this last.

"Stand up in front of me and take your panties off."

Slowly she got up off her knees. The whole time she'd never broken eye contact with me, even peeking at me out of the side of her face, around my prick as she sucked on my balls. And she kept her eyes locked on mine as she lifted her skirt to get at her panties. I was pleased to note that her stockings were held up by a black lace garter belt that framed a nice pair of matching panties. I'm really not a fan of panty hose, and those would have been a letdown.

She hooked her fingers into the tops of her panties and began working them down over her bush, hesitating every inch or so to turn it into a miniature strip-tease. Finally she had them past her knees and she stepped out of them. Her skirt had fallen down, and she started to pull it back up to reveal her mound, but I told her not to.

"Just give me your panties now."

She handed them over and I could feel that the crotch was soaking wet. The smell of her juices was wonderful, and I buried my nose and lips in their richness, in my turn making it a point not to break eye contact with her.

"Now," I said when I came up for air, "I want you to play with yourself under your skirt. Don't hitch it up any more that you have to. Sometimes imagining can be even more exciting than seeing."

Carol didn't need any clarification or encouragement. Quickly her hands moved under her skirt, letting the front edge drape over them, covering her cunt so that all I had to measure her actions by was the movement of the cloth and the muscles in her arms as she worked her fingers into and over her cunt. Soon, though, the color was rising in her neck and she was beginning to gasp as the front of her skirt danced ever more quickly. When her knees began to tremble I wondered if she would be able to bring herself to an orgasm without falling down so I said, "Stop!"

Carol let out a little wail of frustration, but she stopped almost immediately.

"Show me your hands," I ordered.

Still breathing heavily, she held her hands out in front of me. Both of them were slick with her juices, which I cleaned off by sucking each finger, one by one, into my mouth. When I had finished this delicious task, I told her, "Walk into the bathroom Carol."

A bit unsteadily, Carol brought her legs together and turned around. For the first time since she had taken her glasses off, we broke eye contact. I got off the bed and walked over to the desk, where I picked up the condom. Then I followed her into the bathroom, my engorged cock wagging in front of me. It had been all I could do not to stroke myself while Carol was masturbating in front of me, but I had not wanted to risk coming at that point. It had been a long time since I could regain an erection quickly after coming, and I doubted that I'd be able to get it up twice before my time with Carol was over.

I noticed that Carol's stockings were giving her a little trouble with the slick bathroom floor, so I spread a large towel for her stand on and had her lean over the counter with her legs spread. Through the mirror in front of us we were once again able to make eye contact, and I swear that the eyes that were staring into mine had a hungry look in them. I watched her watch me as I ripped open the condom packet and rolled the rubber onto my dick.

Just as she had made a production of taking her panties off, so I prolonged the transit of her skirt up over her legs and bare ass. Throughout this, Carol alternated between licking her lips and making little gasps and whimpering sounds as the cloth caressed her thighs and ass. She was also trying to hump her mound against the edge of the counter, but was being frustrated in these attempts by the fact that it was recessed a few inches beyond the counter top.

Finally, I had the hem of her skirt tucked into its waistband. I put my hands on her shoulders, mashing her semi-clad tits against the countertop, positioned myself behind her and pushed the head of my cock up to her cunt lips. She tried to push back onto me, but I pulled back.

"My show, Carol, remember?"

She let out a little whimper, but she settled herself down, and again I brought my prick to her cunt. Then, wet as she was, I was in her all the way to the hilt with one sharp shove. At this Carol let out a wail and by the second time that I slammed into her she was coming.

"Oh fuck, oh shit," she moaned. We'd lost eye contact as her face scrunched up in the intensity of her orgasm, and she'd regained her voice for the first time since she'd entered my room. That worked for me though. I love being told that my performance is appreciated. And all of the physical evidence, from the spasms in her cunt muscles to her howls of pleasure, to the cherry-redness of her neck and face, told me that she was really enjoying herself. This was not a paid acting gig for her.

"Oh! Oh!, Unh! Oh! Unh!" she half-moaned, half-grunted as I continued to slam into her as hard and fast as I could. "Oh, Christ, don't stop. I'm gonna come again," she gasped. "Oh, shit, here it comes," the gasps turning into a wail, "I'm commmmming!" And she kept coming, going from peak to peak with hardly a dip, as I kept ramming her for almost a minute.

By this point Carol was gasping so much that she started to cough - which produced some even more spectacular muscle contractions in her cunt than her recent series of orgasms. I was on the verge of coming myself, and I still didn't want to, so I just stopped moving and lay down over her, throwing most of my weight onto my elbows. I continued to semi-lay on top of her until she got her coughing and breathing under control.

"See Carol, I told you you'd get your itch scratched if you were a good girl. Now I need for you to get me off."

Carol started to push back against my impaling cock but I stopped her. "No, not that way." I was genuinely torn at this point. Belinda and I had had some pretty entertaining bouts of anal, and there was Carol's ass all poked out for me as she hunched over the bathroom countertop, thoroughly greased up with her juices from our furious fucking. I really wanted to shove my dick right up her ass in the worst way. But I also wanted something else, something that I hadn't been getting at home all these years.

I'd had several lovers who liked to finish me off with their mouths right after I'd fucked them. Belinda just wasn't much for this. Unless she was very, very drunk, which was virtually never, if I wanted to finish in her mouth after fucking her I always had to wash off first. Somehow that just took all of the spontaneity, not to mention a lot of the kinkiness, out of it.

"So, what, the fuck," I thought, "for a grand I'm going to get something different."

I pulled out, more with a squish than a plop, and rolled off the condom. I straightened Carol up and led her back into the bedroom. Sitting down on the bed again I told her, "Now I want you to suck me off, and make sure you swallow it all."

As she sank to her knees we were back into the old eye-contact game again, and that sexy, crooked smile reappeared on her face right before she locked her lips around the knob of my prick. This time there was no playfulness at all, no attempt at art. There was just, from the get-go, serious sucking and face fucking designed to let me know that she wanted me to come in her mouth and that not a drop was going to escape.

Wow! Just thinking that a woman is thinking that gets me there every time. In a matter of seconds I was groaning and gushing what felt like buckets more cum than I expected I could still produce; jet after jet after jet. And Carol was a real trooper, sucking and swallowing like mad, so that not a drop escaped her lips. As my spasms settled Carol sent her lips almost all the way down my shaft, collecting her own juices that coated my cock below where the condom had ridden. Then she clamped her lips tightly and brought them up again, following with her fingers, pushing the last of my cum out into her mouth. And with the tip of her tongue she collected the final little pearl from the top of my prick.

Still looking me full in the eyes, she opened her lips to show me her tongue covered with my cum before she swallowed.

I flopped back on the bed and it took me almost a full minute to recover from that. Christ, to tell the truth, I thought I was lucky not to have had a heart attack. That had been, without doubt, the most exciting sexual encounter of my entire life.

While I was recovering Carol just continued to kneel silently on the floor between my legs. When I was finally able to get up, I lifter her up and said, "I've heard that hookers make it a point never to kiss their johns on the lips. But if it's not too unprofessional, may I kiss you?"

Still eyes wide open, she cocked her head back and parted her lips, and I brought mine gently to them, at least at first. For the next minute or so we kissed with increasing intensity, trading little lip sucks and bites in between swirling our tongues back and forth deep in each others' mouths. When we broke we were both breathless, so we clung to each other for a little while longer before Carol pulled away.

"Time for Carol to go," she said. "I can't tell you how much fun this has been, but I hope you got a pretty good idea while we were dong it."