Sharon Goes Back to School Ch. 16

"I know you!" the man clapped his hands, the cab rocking and veering across half of it's lane. Sharon smiled, nodding for the man to keep his eye on the road. "Mrs. Sharon," he continued, but did keep his attention on the road, "Right here in my cab." He shook his head, and Sharon wondered if he was going to produce a DVD for her to sign or something worse. She wondered if Dave had set this up, but could not understand how he would manage that. The cabs lined up in a row and were not allowed to pick and choose who they picked up. She shivered, wondering if every black man in the country had seen her having sex. The thought triggered arousal as well as embarrassment and more than a little anxiety.

The cabbie was happily playing the tour guide, pointing out the backs of the hotels they were driving past. "This is the exit for Bellagio," he said, exiting the highway, but then turning left away from the Strip. "You are over here," he shrugged, "An easy walk to the strip," he laughed, then, she guessed at the word 'strip,' but could not be sure.

A moment later, the cab squealed to a stop, and finally Sharon relaxed slightly... there were women... and men, she realized, in more revealing clothing than she was wearing, and women who could get away with wearing next to nothing, too; not the flabby women she saw in the mall or the grocery store, wearing clothes that they should have known better than to ever consider trying on. Abruptly the oversexed white wife felt frumpy and plain.

She reached for her wallet.

"No, lovely woman," the man smiled at her, "This one is on me if I can ask a small favor." Sharon felt her stomach drop. But she smiled and tilted her head, encouraging the stranger to proceed. He held out a card. "My name," she glanced down, reading it as he said it, "Is Korfa Egal. I have been here for four years," he went on in a rush, "And have always wanted to enjoy this particular event," he paused, as if assessing her for judgment. He smiled more broadly, "If you would leave my name at the convention door..." Sharon smiled more broadly.

"I can do that," she assured him, "Thank you for getting me here so quickly, Korfa," she tried his name and the man beamed.

"Would it be too much to ask for a photograph with you, too, Mrs. Sharon?" Sharon's smile remained in place. She opened the door as the diminutive cabbie leapt out, waving and calling over one of the bellhops. Watching him approach, Sharon saw an attractive red head pause at the door to her limousine, posing with the limo driver. As the bell hop prepared to snap the photo, the woman bared a breast, never batting an eye to indicateas whether she worried about the police or if passing visitors might be offended.

Korfa was standing beside her, his cellphone in the other man's hand. He looked at her, and Sharon smiled, pleased to have fans when more beautiful and nearly naked women were prancing around.

"Are you a ZB, Korfa?" she asked, pressing herself against the man, whose head barely reached the level of her breasts. He shook his head,

"I am saving money to go to school," he said, "But then I will join." She smiled.

"That's good. Look at your camera," she urged, and then as the man was taking the photo, smiling sexily, the white housewife lifted her shirt, baring both breasts for the image. Korfa did not notice until the picture had been taken and Sharon had almost completely covered her unfettered chest once again. His jaw dropped, but then he smiled more broadly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sharon," he said again and again, "Oh I hope I see you at the convention."

"Me, too, Korfa," and Sharon bent, kissing the younger man on the cheek, "My new hero." The cabbie was so flustered he could barely get into his car as Sharon sauntered toward the casino's lavish entrance with her bag.

By the time she reached the desk, pleased to find no line, Sharon had lost count of the number of semi-nude men and women she had passed. Some looked vaguely familiar, and she was sure she had seen photos of them... even videos, while she had been in the frat. She was worried about what they would say when she went to check in, though.

"May I help you?" Though clean cut and giving off only heterosexual signals, the clerk seemed unaffected by the barely repressed air of sexual excitement in the lobby. He looked Sharon in the eye as she approached, and it was the housewife who found herself having trouble maintaining eye contact.

"Uhm, Sharon Sobel checking in," she said. The man went to work on his keyboard, typing for a few seconds as opposed to the woman back at the airport.

"We have you right here," he smiled up at her. Sharon was prepared to argue about giving up her credit card. "Do you have your ID?" She giggled at the tone of his question... did guests come without their ID? A totally naked brunette dashed by, giggling, chased by a shirtless midget. Maybe some had no place to carry their ID, she thought as she handed it to the clerk. If he was surprised at the 'Mrs.' he did not give any indication. "We've got you right here," he repeated, and clicked and clacked, nodding as if impressed, "A pool view suite," he glanced up at her, "I know it looks like the pool is right there, but please don't try to jump in from your balcony." Sharon blinked, then realized he was kidding and giggled.

"I won't," she promised. The clerk smiled. "Uhm, I'd rather not leave my card..." The clerk frowned for a second, then waved away her concern.

"Oh, it's no problem," he assured her, "That's already been taken care of by your manager." Sharon blinked again, then assumed... hoped? he meant Dave. "Things should really get rocking here tonight," the clerk beamed at her, "But I hope you'll enjoy the pool and the casino before the awards tonight." Sharon thanked him and assured him she would, then repeated her room number back to him, listened to his directions, and headed off, head swimming at the over the top gratuity of the décor and the people acting like children all through the complex.

She was amazed at the piles of cash and chips she saw on the various tables in the casino, and that the dealers and security team seemed as unconcerned about nude women calmly playing blackjack as if it happened every day. She giggled, wondering if it did happen every day in Vegas. Though tempted to sit down to learn more about what was happening, she was also dragging, she knew. And if there was some award ceremony Dave wanted her to attend that night, she resolved to get some sleep before she did anything else.

Sharon smiled, deciding she must be back in her hotel room, in the crisp, cool white linens on the round California King bed that somehow seemed so much bigger than the same sized bed at home. The lighting was right, which meant she was glad she had the pillow over her head.

That first morning she had been amazed at the view from her fifth floor suite of the pool and cabanas. The water had been pink and blue in the rising sun and though it had been gorgeous for a moment she had been dismayed, thinking she might not be able to get a wink of sleep. Fortunately, there were black out curtains that actually worked, and she had enjoyed a solid five hour nap, waking when there was a knock on the door. Dressed as she had been when she arrived, except for the panties, which she had stripped off, Sharon had padded to the door, opening it without checking who was there, having expected it would be Dave, and wondering why the ZB brother did not have a key of his own.

Instead, it had been a Hispanic waiter, who had pushed a cart into the room, then waited while Sharon signed the tab, adding a generous tip. She found oatmeal and eggs and bagels under one warmer, and a Caesar salad with chicken and a club sandwich under the second. There was a mimosa, with an open pop champagne bottle and a small carafe of orange juice, as well as a six pack of beer. Sharon realized she was likely about to have a guest, but remembering that there were different rules in place, the wife retrieved her phone and texted Dave asking what she was supposed to do, then plugged the phone in so there would be a full charge when she had to leave.

Instead of texting back, the big ZB member had come through the door a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of chips, and with a wad of twenties clutched in one of his hands, as well.

"I'm telling' ya, Shar," he smiled, pausing to look her admiringly up and down, "You are my lucky charm." Sharon dimpled. "I was winning and winning and winning, and then you called so I cashed out except for a last hand at the minimum," he waved his hand, "Dealer got blackjack. You saved me a few hundred, babe."

"Good," Sharon said, suddenly self conscious about being in the same clothes she had worn at the club the night before. Dave had obviously showered and shaved, and was in fresh clothes. "I'll have to try that later," she paused, embarrassed, "I've never gambled before?"

"You're shitting me!" Dave was honestly amazed, "Hubby never brought you here?" Sharon laughed at the thought of that.

"Chris says we should just pour our money down the toilet." She realized she was starving. When had she last eaten? "Can we eat?"

"Sure," Dave pointed to the trays, "It's all yours... I did not know if you would want breakfast or lunch." Sharon nodded, trying not to think about how expensive the food she was not going to eat must have been. "It's a lot," she answered nebulously. But Dave knew what she was worrying about.

"Shar," he smiled, "Remember I said we'd keep track of your money for you?" She nodded. "Well, that's how this," he waved his arms, "Is getting paid for. And you could go crazy and not run out of money," he winked, "In fact we may just try that later." Sharon nodded, relieved that she was not going to have to give the casino her credit card. If Chris found out...

The oatmeal was great with the brown sugar and honey that were served with it, but Sharon stopped at half a bowl. She was still hungry, but wanted to try the salad and sandwich, as well. Dave just laughed, scooping up the oatmeal bowl and finishing it off before poaching a three quarters of her sandwich, as well. Even so, Sharon had more food than she had eaten all together since she had been back to school.

The day had been a whirlwind. Sharon had showered, getting some 'help' from Dave, who got her off with his fingers and the hand held shower wand, after which he had enjoyed a sloppy blowjob from the married student before they toweled off. Sharon donned the pink bikini he had packed, along with a filmy black cover up and matching pink and black pumps. He had her don a red and white lanyard with a white four by six card with her picture and name. The letters AVN were repeated on the lanyard and were in bold black letters on the pass. There were additional codes beside her photo, and there was a smaller three by five version that hung against her back, as well. Before Sharon could pay attention to them or ask, Dave had led her down to the casino floor.

Instead of going out to the pool, though, he had stopped at the craps table, and for the next thirty minutes they had watched and played, Sharon getting more than her share of attention, despite the abundance of other scantily clad women. She was pleased and relieved that the men and women she was talking to seemed to have no idea who she was, and that the oversexed attitude seemed to be the norm in the city of Sin. Several of the men throwing the dice insisted she 'blow on them' for good luck, and though she doubted she would remember the various options and combinations Dave told her, craps was a lot of fun, and they left with more chips than they had arrived with.

They rotated to the blackjack table where she managed to win two hundred dollars before Dave had her cash out and showed her the roulette tables. He warned her that was not his game, though he teased the housewife that she should 'always bet black.' They played Texas hold 'em and he showed her how the progressive slots worked, and how she could drink for free as long as she was gambling, adding that it was one of the ways Vegas was better than the casinos on the reservations at home: free booze. Sharon never considered that it was not yet noon as she drank whatever Dave had brought to her. That was not unusual, though; the little single serving champagne bottles had become a staple for the housewife coed.

She giggled when the passing men would pat her ass, and soon enough, even the especially bold gamblers who instead cupped one breast or the other in their hand as they passed were no longer a surprise. When she asked Dave if it was because she was in a bikini, the ZB chuckled, answering that they saw her 'creds' and pointing at her lanyard. Sharon was not sure what he meant, but she noticed that while there were lots of women dressed in revealing outfits, only a few had the lanyards like she wore.

Dave let her choose, and Sharon returned to the craps table, where she managed to lose the money she had won before going on another winning streak. They left the casino at 1PM, Sharon beaming at the stack of chips they had cashed out. Dave told her they had started with $500 and she walked out carrying $1200 in cash, with another $300 in chips 'for later.'

They visited the shops inside the casino before Sharon asked if they could go out to the pool. There had been more women with the lanyards at poolside, and in talking to them, Sharon quickly understood that AVN was a sex trade magazine, and that they were all there for the yearly convention. She never considered the awards that some of the women mentioned, since there was no way she planned to do anything like that while they were there. She fully expected Dave would whisk her to a ZB suite and she would work her ass off for the evening, and so she was surprised when the sun dipped below the edge of the casino roof and her escort insisted they go up to the room 'to get ready.'

Sharon's dress had been so skimpy the bikini felt like it had been a three piece suit to the pleasantly buzzed white housewife. The shimmering green matched her eyes, but it was little more than a scarf that gathered well below her navel. An eighteen inch loin cloth hung straight down, stopping slightly above her knees. There was a tiny belt that encircled her waist, supporting a shorter but wider triangular panel at the back which almost covered her ass. There was no bra, and Sharon knew just from moving around the room that if she was not careful she would be on full display wherever they were going. At least there was a matching green thong. The five inch spike heels she donned were also a matching green. She giggled, because there was no place for her wallet, or even her driver's license or the room key.

Dave took the opportunity to light up the bong that had appeared while they had been enjoying the pool, toking while Sharon dressed, or at least seeming to... most of the potent smoke was saved for their pet ZB Bitch, and Sharon did several hits without hesitation. She mentioned that she was a little hungry, but Dave had her take a final shot before he snuffed the bell and apologetically explained there was not time to eat, assuring her she would be full later.

He stopped at the door, smacking his forehead and went to the case he had left on the bed, returning with a big packet of papers and a pen. Sharon asked what it was, and the ZB waved a hand dismissively, telling her it was just the release so they could enjoy the expo and the awards ceremony. She nodded, and let him set up the camera and explain that they were signing her contract before having her initial and initial again, repeating the process until they reached the last page where she had scrawled her name and at his instruction the date.

There was a second set that she had repeated the signatures, after which he slipped it into a heavy plastic sleeve, telling her it was her copy and leaving in her bag. There was also a final two page form that she had signed without reading, and then they were off, headed for the casino's ostentatious elevators. He led her through the casino and to the AVN expo. Sharon paused long enough to leave Korfa's name with the people at the check in desk, pleased that she had remembered. Dave waited impatiently, then led her in to expo to see what was being offered. .

They wandered the enormous convention hall for more than an hour, and Sharon lost track of the number of men and women she met. Unlike the casino and pool, many of the other women wearing lanyards seemed to know who Sharon was. She was groped and petted, even fingered by one woman who sauntered up like they were childhood friends, kissing Sharon passionately and deftly working her fingers down the front of Sharon's dress to curl a finger into the housewife's sex before Dave stepped in. Breathless and more than a little aroused, Sharon managed to glance at the woman's lanyard when she finally stepped back.

Jessica Dragon laughed, telling Sharon her movies were 'so hot she could get off just watching,' and wishing her good luck before winking and assuring her they would 'see each other later,' moving on to another knot of convention goers. Sharon was left wondering what the other woman had meant, but almost immediately there was someone new introducing themselves and claiming they were 'a fan.' She lost count of the number of people who wanted autographs, and was surprised and puzzled that an almost tasteful if overly suggestive picture of her was printed inside the convention flyer that everyone was carrying around.

She smiled and chatted and agreed to the autographs and photos, relieved that as forward and openly casual about sex as the convention goers were, no one was groping her or pulling her clothes off or asking for her to show any skin for the photos.

Along the way, Dave insisted she visit booths that offered 'replicas' of any cock or pussy, and other manufacturers that advertised the latest and greatest in dildos or vibrators or piercings. He stopped at a kiosk selling tongue stud vibrators, but Sharon was distracted by the big camera crew following a pair of women around. She recognized them as the emcees she had spoken to while having sex back in the frat, that night she had won the amateur contest. The memory brought a flush of embarrassment and arousal in equal parts.

She was tempted to see what was happening that the cameras were following the women, but was leery of who would see whatever the big commercial cameras recorded. She glanced back at Dave, who was in an animated discussion with the clerk, and so she was shocked when she turned back and the women were barely five steps away, barreling towards her.

"Sharon Synn" the smaller pert bottle blonde beamed, "I told Sasha we had to be sure to see you." she caught hold of Sharon's elbow, pulling her close, even though her head was at the level of Sharon's chest, "You have to promise to call me if you're doing one of those amazing videos here." Sharon smiled shyly, trying not to stare directly into the square unblinking eye of the big camera pointed right at them. She told herself with the make up and the stage name, not even Chris would think it was her. "I'm serious," Jess went on , "I got so hot watching you during the show."

"She's not lying," Sasha added with her characteristic laconic delivery, almost dead pan, "I kept slipping walking behind her backstage." The small blonde giggled. Without warning, she reached out, pulling Sharon close, her hands gripping the surprised wife's ass firmly.

"Damn, but she's got a fine ass," Jess giggled, cuddling her head between Sharon's breasts, "I mean, I thought the brothers like these to be bigger." She nipped at Sharon's pierced nipple through the fabric, "But you don't seem to have any problems getting them off." Sharon tried to think of something to say, "Although I can't believe you haven't gotten these tightened up," the smaller woman pushed back abruptly, shoulders thrown back to emphasize her augmented cleavage, "I never get complaints with these. Go big or go home, I say."