Cannes to Las Vegas

"Tom watch the road please!" I demanded.

"You bloody little tease," he snapped, "That really is below the belt,"

"Oh did I give you a stiffy," I sighed as I leaned across to give him a blow job, of course in fiction I would have gobbled all his creamy cum down my tight throat or something but in reality there is a big centre console with a J shift gear lever right in the way, well when it's in Drive it's in the way, anyway, so I had to use my fingers.

I don't know why men can't multi-task, I've often had a wank while driving the VW Golf on the Motorway while I chatted to a friend on the mobile phone, but Tom, oh dear no, I barely touched him before he closed his eyes and swerved across two lanes, "Tom!" I gasped, "Try and concentrate."

"You really are impossible!" he accused, and he stood on the brakes like an idiot, thank god for ABS or he would have flat spotted the tyres, anyway everything missed us somehow and he pulled onto the hard shoulder.

He tried unsuccessfully to stuff his erection back in his pants and stormed around to my side which was of course towards the traffic where he just grabbed me and ripped my thong right off and wrenched me around so he could get at me and did the deed right there in full view of passing traffic.

It must have taken all of thirty seconds and then he was twitching and pumping me full of the nice creamy spunk he should have given me the previous night instead of snoring while I lay awake with my Vibrator running half speed because the batteries were flat, but it was a nice gesture and there certainly was plenty of it.

Poor Tom looked drained afterwards as I slipped out from underneath him, wiped myself on a wet wipe and scurried round to the drivers side, "You just rest," I suggested,

I think we were doing a hundred by the time he got both feet inside the door, and about one thirty before he got the seat belt on, "Are you Ok darling?" I said sarcastically, as we took our rightful place bullying everyone else out of the fast lane with plenty of use of the headlight flasher and horn, it was even nicer when I asked Tom to wipe me because I was leaking his cum, Oh, I think I actually got wetter but it was a wonderful feeling.

Of course "Le Shuttle" was an anticlimax, then the crawl through Kent and the M25, now that was definitely Tom territory while I had a lovely sleep in the back seat, and then before I knew we were back at Melton Villa.

Daddy and Mummy were there before us, he chartered a Lear Jet, from Marseille to Northolt can you imagine? Hiring a Lear jet and not inviting me along? I could have had a drive.

"Mummy!" I demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"I lost another bet for that damned diamond." she confessed, "It seems I'm here for the week."

"Oh Mummy!" I gasped, "You are careless."

"Actually Darling," Daddy announced, "Lucy Rosenbalm, that's Cecille Rosenbalm's mother, you know "Resenbalm" she got Bronze, well after Cannes she challenged you mother and I to a little wager, it seems there is a seniors tour at Vegas, and well, we need the practice."

"Daddy!" I protested but it was hopeless and Mummy sat down to dinner in her full tack except her bridle and made Daddy feed her, it was disgusting, yuck and I wished I had thought of it because she certainly seemed to enjoy it when Daddy licked up the spills from her breasts.

"Isn't this concentration on sex taking away from the ethos of pony girl competition, the purity of form," I waxed lyrically, "The human form shown in its full animalistic beauty the."

"Bed, Gerald!" Mummy butted in as I spoke eloquently about the purity of the pony girl ethos. and half way through the sweet she simply ordered Daddy to bed and Daddy rushed round to pull her chair out like a love-struck puppy.

"It wont last Mummy" I warned.

"No dear, but it will be fun while it lasts." Mummy announced.

"What shall we do now Georgina," Tom asked as the disappeared towards the bedroom. I despaired what a question., then he continued, "There's not much on TV shall we have an early night?"

"How about you cover me in chocolate sauce and lick it off." I suggested, he must have thought it a great idea because before I could stop him he had grabbed the wrong jug and covered me in beef gravy.

"I meant get naked first," I explained as I looked at my ruined silk blouse, "And that's gravy not chocolate sauce."

"Oh Miss Georgina, you are a clumsy girl," Mrs Grimes exclaimed a few moments later when she came to collect the dishes.

"It's all right, Tom thought it was chocolate sauce." I explained.

"My Cedric always said mint sauce went well with pussy," she recalled, "I should do it here on the floor and save getting the sheets messy," she suggested, "I'll pull the door up don't worry"

"Shall we?" Tom asked, I didn't reply I just peeled off my top, and saw my bra was also soaked and before I could react Tom was licking the gravy off my breasts, he was like a little Yorkshire Terrier or something but it was nice and then as Mrs Grimes suggested we made use of the floor.

The next morning we were back to reality with sign in day at University, boring, and what was worse I realised there were some better athletes there than me there when I went to see about joining the Athletics club, now that is not funny, I do not like not winning, but it wasn't too bad, especially when I found they were fair weather athletes, brilliant in the sunshine but on a typical British summers day of torrential rain they just sat around the clubhouse talking about men.

I preferred to just get out there and train, my time with Henry Bryant on Saddleworth Moor made the discomfort seem a mere triviality, although it was frustrating to finish a run and shower and dress without a celebratory fuck.

Tom did his best, but it wasn't the same when we had to wait until we got home.

Oh I forgot Mummy, Daddy handed her over to Tom to train, poor Tom, poor Mummy, lucky Sonia. Silvana and Evie were long gone but Sonia (Miss Farque) and Sandra, Harry Wallace's daughter that Henry Bryant wanted me to train and Dessie and Sabine and Marmon were still in training with Dot Channing, so Daddy had plenty of opportunities for a gallop, but it meant I had to share my boyfriend's cock with my Mother, arrrggghhh.

I was really cross, but at Uni I knuckled down to learn all about law, like three one hour lectures a week which wasn't exactly onerous, did a bit of training on the track, miles mainly, signed up for a half marathon, that sort of thing between cracking the whip literally at home.

We set Mummy and Sonia to pulling the log cart, Dot and I thought it was a brilliant idea, Daddy was livid which served him right.

Las Vegas was awkward, I needed a few days away from my University course, but a few quick runs around the athletics track caught the eye of the coaches, either my speed attracted attention or it was my boobies when I ran in that damned uplift bra, anyway whatever it worked.

"Georgina, you certainly have a talent for distance running," Mr Houseman a balding once successful 1500 metres and steeplechase athlete told me as he struggled to keep up with me on the last lap of a mile run, he only did the last 400 as well!

"Oh," I lied, "I didn't realise, I have the chance to run in the States in a few weeks time, half marathon," I lied again, "If I can get agreement to miss lectures."

With his help it was more or less a formality which was almost worth the constant accidental gropes and inappropriate touching he subjected me to, ten days away from lectures we agreed and luckily no one asked too many questions about which half marathon it was, but just my luck there was a half marathon only about seventy miles from Vegas in some mountains, more cross country or steeplechase but like anything "Vegas" there was a big prize for the winner, so the trip seemed kosher, especially when I pointed out my win in Yorkshire.

The only problem was the Half marathon was on the Sunday before the Pony Event which was the following Tuesday, not a problem, I am blonde remember, "Oh I got the date wrong but I've booked the flights now!" I pleaded, so I had no acclimatisation, arrive Saturday run Sunday and then over a week apparently stuck in the States, luckily with a big display of contrition, and being blonde I got away with it.

Mountains, it set me thinking and as Daddy had friends in horse training country near Broadway in the Cotswolds,I spent several evenings running up what felt like the side of a house but which was a horse training gallops p the side of a Cotswold hill, and then even worse running back down, bone jarringly quickly, and no, pulling the log cart single handed up the slope to Melton Villa while tacked up was not in any way useful training, but Daddy still insisted on it, although I suspected with Mr Dighby "With an H" and Filcourt-Smyth and Dennis Lothian all being invited "For Drinks!" while I was doing it was all connected with the fact that Daddy desperately tried to keep it a secret that "English Rose," was actually his own daughter.

Things got horribly hectic, poor Tom hardly got to see me and my vibrator started making nasty noises like it was seizing up and then suddenly I was at Heathrow queueing for the obligatory forty something lesbian to strip search me, something which blonde hair and a half decent figure inevitably causes these days and then it was a deep vein thrombosis class seat with no free upgrade on a twenty year old Jumbo with the inevitable stench of vomit and urine that is transatlantic travel in this post Concorde era.

Luckily the in flight movie was really boring, it could have been "When Harry met Mr Bean," for all the notice I took of it and thank the lord, I slept almost all the way there.

Daddy and Mummy met me off the plane, as did Tom, which was very strange as they had dropped me off at Heathrow, Lear Jet again, I suspected. Apparently Dighby wangled them seats on his friend's Lear Jet and Daddy pretended I had already flown out for acclimatisation so they saved the two hours queueing at each end and flew in luxury, typical.

"Ah Pumpkin" Daddy said when he met me at Mccarran, (Mc Carran?) airport, Las Vegas which was always ominous, "I've arranged accommodation for you and Tom."

"Good, I just need a good soak." I agreed.

"Not quite five star," he said apologetically, and he wasn't kidding, it was trailer on a trailer park.

Now Daddy's logic was that if sex was made very uncomfortable it wouldn't happen but well, I hadn't seen much of Tom and it didn't take long to discover that the seats folded down to form a bed, that the walls were paper thin, and the other residents incredibly nosey.

We got down to business as soon as we got rid of Daddy, I had Tom well trained, he was instructed to check my pussy for,moisture, and only if there is no moisture to try foreplay. Well of course I was absolutely soaking!

I just drew the drapes stripped off my damp panties and adopted the position, somewhat like a Gymnast, legs spread as wide as possible, which had Tom looking like he was hung with a cucumber and he just slid his glorious warm penis straight into my sopping wet vagina to fill that void in me which so desperately needed filling and then he set towards quenching the fires which he found burning there, rather too energetically I fear.

"Hey what you guys doing in there!" someone shouted before Tom had even got properly into his stride.

"Playing Scrabble!" I replied sarcastically as I felt the earth move.

"Well you be careful," he said.

We should have listened, because it wasn't the earth moving, it was the trailer moving on its jacks and just as I was really wound up and needed release the damned jack thing slipped off its concrete pad, and crunch, the earth moved, literally moved, vertically, straight down about two feet, Crash!"

It didn't really matter, we just shifted around so we weren't head down, and carried on.

We woke about noon our time the next day, just in time for Daddy to collect me for the race.

"Oh, you had a good rest I see." he announced, as he peered at the trailer still tipped forward at a strange angle and tried to work out how to get into the doorway now some three feet off the ground where the back end had come up as the front went down. We solved the problem when Tom and I moved to the back because it crashed back down level and without a word Daddy handed me a new tracksuit.

You would not believe the number of Logos he had stitched to it, it weighed a ton, stitched, stitched up again I decided but it was too late to do anything about it and after a really healthy meal of a Big Mac and fries Daddy we climbed into Daddy's hired Escalade and he drove along the four lane highway and then down a dirt track in his infuriatingly careful way to deliver me to the start among the foothills of the Nellis mountain range.

I signed in, did the briefing, "Watch for rattlers!" was the highlight and then with no enthusiasm what so ever I lined up with the rest of the runners and thats when it dawned on me that half the runners were guys, just one race. Great. I should have got Tom an entry.

I set off at my usual speed, the route seemed reasonably well marshaled, but it was dirt and steep, and narrow very much like the hills near Broadway, so by the time I found some space I was fourth, ok I couldn't actually live with the power of the men up the punishing hills but neither did I appreciate the danger of falling into a nest of rattlers or worse on the down-hills, so I absolutely flew rushing past loads of apparently timid hunky Americans, phew was it ever exhilarating anyway thirteen miles later I was still fourth when I crossed the line and I just flopped down and peeled my sopping wet, sweat soaked track suit off top off.

"No!" Daddy shouted, "Show the Logos, the sponsors Logos!" I really could have throttled him.

Maybe he should have had Fosdyke and Earl tattooed across my tummy, I didn't dare suggest it, he would have thought it was a wonderful idea.

Luckily there was a separate podium for girls, although with their butch features and spiky US Marine Corps hair do's you would have been hard pressed to realise the second and third place girls were not guys, but at least it made me look good!

The guy presenting the trophies certainly seemed much more interested in kissing me as he presented the award than he was in kissing them and then by way of anti climax immediately after the podium ceremony Daddy suggested "Right lets get you to McCarran for the transfer."

"Why?" I gasped as I realised I just wanted to sleep for a week.

"It's all arranged," he said, "Just a short hop to Dream Land."

I should have known that if Daddy was involved "Las Vegas" would prove to be a patch of Desert Scrub not the Entertainment capital of the world.

In fact it was going to be every bit as bad as I thought, worse in fact.

To be continued...