One Night in Las Vegas

Two people breathed softly, bodies pressed together that bit tighter.

"My many greats grandmom was Carole, lost her love years before it all went to shit," a quiet voice, "boys in our line are Peter, after him."

"Easier names than Herb," now they laughed lightly, "where are you from? Where did your Carole go?"

He noticed a hitch in her breath, then back to her sweet, soft alto.

"Nowhere close to here," she offered, "but not out of sight."

As he took that riddle in she grabbed two glasses of dark, red wine from a cart and handed him one.

"To your Herbert," she looked at him and tapped his glass, "and my Carole."

"To them," he responded, they sipped. Wow. Where was this wine from? Napa and Sonoma were back in business, just, but he'd not had any like this. Even the best LA had barely touched this.

Her riddle in the back of his mind, she stopped them near a passage, she nudged his head to lean his good ear to her mouth.

"Down this hall," she whispered, "nice and quiet."

She led him past a guard who barely glanced, away from the din of the casino, down a short, dimly lit hallway. She led him into a room, a small vanity with a drawer and a mirror, a stool and a bed, with a real mattress and creamy sheets, the ceiling itself glowed softly. She kicked off her heels, sat on the bed and pulled up one leg horizontally on it and bent at the knee, her puffy pussy obvious. She touched his arm to join her. She slid the back of her left hand down his bare chest, wrapped her fingers around his cock through the thin fabric. She leaned in and he responded, their lips met and she teased him as she gripped his lips with her lips and teeth before her tongue forced his lips apart as she pressed in.

Oh, shit. He already knew he was out of his depth.

Without breaking the kiss she nudged the waistband, he rose by inches so she could slide the pants down until he could let them drop to the floor. He pressed her tits through the thin cloth, she started, he relaxed his grip to more softly caress the prominent nipples. Her 'aah' he felt more than heard, his signal he'd done right. She pulled him fully onto the bed, never broke the kiss, allowed them to face each other.

He pushed his hand down her flat stomach, impressed by the firmness he felt. These people were beautiful and looked soft but they were solid, strong. The steel he'd heard when Jane had delivered her warning he guessed was common. It was the how that confused him. His people paid for their strength with calluses, sunburn, hard, tough work that left marks.

A fingertip worked the gap in its head on the underside of his cock, ended his reverie. He pushed past her landing strip and tried to find her clit, she puffed into his mouth, her hand left his erection and grabbed at the irritant. He let her guide his fingers into her moist opening, two fingers opened the lips to enter. She pulled warm, moist juice and guided him to her own erect flesh, demonstrated how she wanted him to use slow, steady motion to ensure it became more attentive. She nudged his hand down, he guessed he should get more juice, he did and returned. She purred into his mouth and her fingernails found his glans, his prick jumped at the contact.

She separated her mouth from his and kissed down his own solid chest and abs, he could match that but never her soft smoothness. She didn't seem to care as she worked herself down, he felt her tongue swirl the head of his cock before it traced a path along the bottom to the root. She pulled first one nut then the other into her mouth before she licked the length of his shaft. He groaned as she pushed her mouth over it and pulled almost the entire length into her throat. She backed off and put her hand on his hip and her touches guided him to pump his rampant shaft in and out of her mouth, her swallowing and breathing pushed him even closer to the edge.

Despite Anna's endeavor in the shower he didn't last long, the novelty of the position, her control, her unstated but clear demand left him no choice.

"Carole... fuck... I'm... oh...," her hand kept its guidance so he simply let go at the end of a pump, accompanied by a wordless moan. He knew everyone in the casino had to have heard that and her sucking as she took three, four, five spurts of his cum into her throat. Finally, she pulled her mouth off and retraced her kisses up his body.

"Yum," she whispered to him just before she kissed him hard and open-mouthed, his own tangy taste clear on her lips and tongue. She softened her kiss and they ran their hands across each other's torsos for a few moments before she nudged him to roll onto his back. He obeyed.

She rose up, put her large, round nipples in reach of his mouth, he suckled at one and then the other before she rose further. He kissed down her flesh, reconfirmed the firm muscles under her smooth skin. She straddled his face, the clean, musky smell of her womanhood obvious and inviting. She guided him with soft, wordless sounds and motions where she wanted his tongue, his lips. His hands went around her amazingly round ass, up her sweaty back, found her ridiculously firm breasts. He heard her breathing go ragged before she pressed her pussy against his face, her thighs immovable, she moaned lightly as her cum washed down his cheeks.

Her solidity finally relented, allowed him to breathe again, after ten, fifteen seconds as her flesh quivered. A trail of her juice traced its way down his torso as she let him kiss his way up hers until her mouth was again on his.

"It's ready again," she whispered into his left ear, she'd worked out from their first meeting it was the working one, the tip of his prick just nestled between the bottoms of sopping pussy lips, "think it's ready to last a while? Interested in flipping me over and fucking my brains out for an hour or two?"

He was strong and solid, she was light and lovely, he gripped her waist and smoothly flipped her onto her back and rose. She lowered her left leg as he quickly moved into place, her legs went wide as her hand found his extremely ready prick. She pulled him to her entrance and stopped him when she had just the pulsating head inserted. She was hot. Very, very, hot.

"How about three hours?" He offered as she released him and he pushed himself quickly all of the way in, his pubic bone struck hers.

"I'm holding you to that. Three." She rocked her hips and he pulled out and slammed into her again. He thought he heard a woman's moaned scream from somewhere close by but his only thought was to make sure the next person to make that sound was this ridiculously sexy and beautiful hallucination. There was no way Carole could be real.

Champagne

So this is champagne, Sandy thought, no wonder the books and movies made such a big deal about it. She was on her third glass and her brain was fuzzed and warm. She'd had beer, vodka, white dog fresh off the newest stills, she'd failed to note any special attraction to any, but this? Oh yeah. More please, but even bad wines were still rare, very rare, in Henderson. How the hell did these people get this?

Or was her mood because two beautiful boys worked her over?

She'd lost track of the attendant who'd taken care of her in the shower, but she'd found two that were even better. The black one, James, had his mouth softly wrapped around her left nipple, having worked her right as stiff as it had ever been. That would've been enough to make her cum but the white boy, Jeremy, who'd had his tongue and fingers buried in her slit had probably helped. He massaged her long, muscular legs now, allowed her to come down from her climax but not to lose the mood. Her free hand stroked James' rock hard prick.

Why she thought of them as boys confused her. They were clearly older than her in years, but their beauty, their soft, unblemished skin, their solid but svelte muscles cried 'boys' in her mind. James reminded her of their crew's second, Rafe, freed of a quarter century of sun, sand and time's ravages. Jeremy, she'd realized only as she was in the throes of orgasm, was like a cleaned up Tom. What did that mean? Tomorrow. Tomorrow's problem.

As she drained the last of the champagne she considered her situation. She wasn't a virgin, that wasn't unusual, but most of her sexual encounters had been of the fumbled, confused kind and most of her orgasms had been the result of her own efforts. That she'd momentarily blacked out on the last one only to be caressed back to awareness was so far beyond anything she'd even thought possible added to the champagne daze.

James kissed his way up her chest, neck, was on her mouth as she felt a hand take the empty champagne glass.

"Lovely lady," James whispered after kissing to her ear, "roll on top of me."

She opened her eyes, smiled at his green-flecked brown eyes. He rolled onto his back, Jeremy helped her lift her leg over James, she looked down and saw a white hand guide the stiff black cock, the hand rubbed the head of it along her gooey slit. This would be the biggest cock she'd had, but she again flashed on the view of Tom's from the shower. Tomorrow.

She lowered herself as her body accommodated its intruder, her nerves drove pleasure outward from her cunt. James' hands cupped both of her tits as she pressed her palms on his solid chest. Jeremy worked his fingers around her clit and rubbed her ass. She lifted until most of the cock was revealed, he slid his hands to her waist to hold her and used his legs to push into her. She moaned, blonde hair framed her face, fresh sweat emerged.

She felt Jeremy leave the bed as James pulled her against him, the sensitized nipples of her smallish but firm breasts teased by the thin hair on his solid chest, he kissed her neck as his cock slowly pushed its full length into her, she felt the ample liquid she produced pushed out to run down her thighs and onto James' jiggling balls.

In her daze she thought the bed moved but two more thrusts drove it from her concern. Then she felt fingers at the base of her slit, they pulled a liquid path along her perineum and circled her asshole. A second set of fingers joined them, covered in warm, slippery liquid.

"Wha...," she managed as a slick finger pushed slowly past her outer ring as James continued to slowly but steadily pump his prick in and out of her tingling pussy, his lips and teeth worked her neck, cheeks, his hands caressed her back, shoulders.

Jeremy worked a second finger into her back entrance and pumped in unison a few times. She'd just adjusted to the feeling when they were removed. Then she felt something larger, harder, press itself just against her asshole, warm and slick with lube. James paused, half inserted.

"Yes," she heard someone say, a woman's voice, close by. Someone who sounded just like her.

"Ahh..., oh..., god...," she heard the voice say as a second cock slowly intruded into the woman's body. She knew the woman had tried anal once and while she hadn't fully appreciated the attraction, it hadn't been horrible or painful.

But this. After everything that had come before tonight, was, oh god. Both boys pushed themselves slowly into the woman, tall, slender, her twin, before they pulled out, the woman's flesh squeezed and stretched by the steel hard cocks. They pushed in, pulled back, gained speed with each coordinated stroke, gooey juice gushed from the woman's stretched flesh.

"Holy fucking hell...," the woman's voice moaned, two sets of hands caressed the woman's ass, back, shoulders, lips on her flesh. The woman moaned loudly, beyond words, as soft, strong fingers found her clit, its nerves violent with electricity.

The woman was going to cum. Oh, fucking hell. No. The woman was going to die screaming with pleasure. Then her body exploded.

Reckoning

"Worley? Come in. Tom Worley? COME IN? TOM WORLEY?"

"Ahh," he jumped, suddenly awake and utterly confused, the scream in his right ear reactivated the pain that had faded from the previous evening's abuse. He scrabbled at his wrist.

"I'm here, Worley here," he said, "I'm here!"

"Tom," Chief Mason's voice, "where are you? Are you ok?"

He blinked, he was in a bed. A horribly comfortable bed. Naked. Alone. The smell of sex overwhelmed him. Low light came in through the doorless opening. He looked around, saw his uniform, gear, weapon, in a pile on the small vanity.

"Yes, I'm ok, hold," he said. He stood, took the two steps to the vanity. His clothes were cleaned, pressed. His weapon was safed, the full magazine ejected and placed alongside, the chamber empty. His calf knife in its scabbard. He heard scrambling in the hall, Sandy arrived followed shortly by Jason, both wrapped in bed sheets with hair askew. As was his, the mirror informed him. They looked at his naked body, Sandy's expression sweet but also guiltily shy. Jason looked dazed.

"Chief," Tom spoke slowly, "I'm here, with Anderson and Jacques. We're ok. We're a couple of buildings away. We, um, chased a pack of children."

He tapped his wrist pad to allow the other two to listen in but held up his hand to ask them to not speak. They nodded.

"Repeat, Worley, did you say children?"

"Yes. Birthday party. Long story. Hold." He walked, nodded to move his companions, they followed as a unit along the hallway that led to the casino. It was abandoned. They were, apparently, alone. They saw the blue-black pre-dawn sky through a circular opening as large as the casino floor, the sky aglow with the promise of a clear day. A number of twisted metal spars jutted into the opening.

"What the hell?" Jacques voiced the question for all of them.

"Chief, we're in a big, round room, the roof is round, really high, open to the sky That's all we know."

"The fuck? You're in the 'Arista!' Used to be a glass dome, collapsed long time ago."

"Someone cleaned it up, Chief, we're standing here, no glass, no debris."

A pause.

"How'd you get there? We didn't find any tracks last night. Worried as hell."

"Huh? We left tracks in the dust, that hallway just past the sensor we checked. Should've been easy."

'Tracks went to the end of the hall, came back, nothing but old dust after the turn. Anyway, DO NOT MOVE. Stay there. We'll come to you. Mason, out!"

"Roger," he tapped his wrist, ensured his mic was off, his expression showed his confusion and was echoed back to him by his companions.

"We'd better get dressed. She's coming, and I think she's pissed off."

They walked the short distance back to their rooms, stopped at the first one where Tom's clothes waited.

"I think she might buy the stories about the children... a birthday party... and the orgy...," Sandy had a crooked smile, Tom and Jason snorted at that, "but how the hell are we going to explain that our uniforms are cleaned and pressed?"

They laughed mordantly, went into their rooms to hurry and dress, unaware how far their Chief was, her initial concern seemingly replaced by anger, and the trio without answers for her. Shit.

There was a piece of paper in one shirt pocket, just visible. Paper! Smooth handwriting.

'Best night of my life. Do it again? Love, C.'

Her email ID was obvious, the domain too. But the hostname. He thought he knew every North American hole that had survived, even some that hadn't, especially those within a few hundred miles of LA or Vegas. This was not any of them.

'Skyhole.'