Vegas Odyssey: The Club

While eating, Tori explained that we needed to work on staying up later each night, because the club was an all-night affair. This was going to be especially difficult since we were already three hours ahead coming from Eastern Standard Time. She suggested we take a nap, which sounded perfect after consuming 3 glorious lbs. of chicken, lemon-cilantro rice, black beans, and tortilla.

Driving 'home,' we discussed everything we wanted to do while in Vegas. I noticed neither of us was mentioning anything sexual. For my part, another blowjob in the room paled in comparison to the knowledge that we were going to an all-night orgy at a high-class sex club the day after tomorrow. It seemed like both of us, without having to say so, wanted to hold off on doing anything else now that we were actually within sight of the location. After weeks of build-up, the reality was a little intimidating.

Still, that didn't mean I was going to slack off on groping and kissing her at any opportunity; this was my wife, dammit, and I was going to do to her what I wanted, despite her half-hearted protests and admonishments that people could see us. Of course, as soon as the elevators would close she would turn and start making out with me. I don't think she forgot about the cameras in the elevators; she just didn't care. My sexy little hypocrite...I loved her like crazy for stuff like that.

Since I hadn't slept on the plane and had just eaten about 2% of my bodyweight in a matter of minutes, I actually crashed pretty hard for several hours. I awoke to see Tori putting on the finishing touches to her evening wear. It was dark outside, and a set of clothes were laid out for me on the bed by my legs.

She was dressed in a tight black top with a dark cerulean and black silk skirt from Florence, Italy that I bought for her right after I graduated from college. Now THAT made me think about having sex: she looked so damn classy and sexy; that combination always makes me instantly hard, not just because she looks good but because I know she will be the center of attention wherever she goes, which always turns me on.

"Hurry up, babe; we have reservations downstairs in ten minutes."

I rolled off the bed and pressed my hardening cock into her back as I cupped her breasts. "Can we postpone?"

She didn't even flinch at my rude arrival. Instead, she pressed her ass back into me and put her hands over mine as she smiled sweetly at me in the mirror. "Absolutely not, you pervert. I'm hungry and you'll need your energy. We're going dancing at the nightclub afterwards."

I huffed. "Fine..."

I squeezed her breasts one last time, then dressed and preened myself. After so long without giving a shit what I looked like, it was nice to feed the ol' vanity again. Stylish, form-fitting clothes, expensive watch, hair done just so, label shoes...I looked like the kind of douchebag who would have a beauty like this on his arm, much to the chagrin of every other guy in the restaurant and club we would be attending. Eat your heart out, cocksuckers: she wasn't with me for a trust fund, or a fancy car, or the people I know...we were made for each other. Any close observer would see that shining through our flashy appearance. Moreover, I didn't have a trust fund, I drive a '98 Frontier, and the most famous person I've ever met was the Secretary of Defense. Yet my stunning wife wears clothing from Italy and loves me with all her heart. Life is good.

We had a lovely evening: talking, joking, and catching up really for the first time since I'd been back. We talked a lot about the day-to-day things we didn't want to waste our precious time talking about while I was away. She was fascinated with life aboard the ship, and I wanted to hear all about our stupid dog's antics and what the gossip amongst the other wives had been while we were away.

As I predicted, guys would glance over whenever she laughed, and heads followed her as she got up to use the restroom. I smiled smugly as I caught one particularly lecherous fucker notice her for the first time, then look back at me with a slightly disgusted expression like I wasn't worthy. It was highly amusing, more so because I agreed with him on a certain level.

I was still considering the irony when she returned, once again drawing surreptitious looks from the male guests. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"How amazing you look and how good it is to be back. I missed you."

"I missed you, too, babe." She reached out and took my hand.

I rubbed my fingers across hers. "I'm not the only one who thinks you look good, either. A few of the other diners almost snapped their necks when you walked by just now."

"Really? Were any of them cute?"

"No, just fabulously wealthy and jealous as hell of the jackass you're sitting with."

"He is pretty lucky..."

"Don't worry, he knows. Are you ready to go grind your body against mine in a public place?"

She grinned. "Always."

As luck would have it, some upstart vodka distillery was offering free samples to women at the club, and Tori batted her big hazel eyes and got as much as she wanted--which included as much as I wanted--and soon we were dancing the night away with a wonderful buzz going. We were surrounded by people like us and people in no way at all like us, but everyone was having a good time.

As expected, my wife drew more than her share of attention with her phantasmal skirt; the black light played off the strange thread of the blue roses as a hazy purple, twirling and shimmering as she moved around me. My desire for her flared every time I caught someone else checking her out, guy and girl alike. She was the center of my universe, and as we danced and drank, everything else fell away and my emotional longing for her drew me close. Our time apart had been trying on our souls but not on our marriage; reuniting made it even stronger.

Soon I was only seeing her in the room, moving in slow motion as I watched every curve of her body. She was so perfect to me--forgiving of my shortcomings, patient with my insecurities, and supportive of my dreams and fantasies--it still amazed me that anyone could love me like she did. But here she was, almost a decade together with my good-for-nothing ass, and she couldn't be happier. I worshipped her.

We stayed out as late as we could, finally dragging ourselves back to the room around 3 am (6 am our time) and collapsing in bed. Not before stripping naked, however, and poignantly professing our love and devotion to each other again. I'm sure our declarations would have been comical if either of us had been sober, but even our inebriation was synchronized and the words themselves took a backseat to raw emotional content.

We kissed deeply, once, before she passed out. I looked down at her peaceful, beautiful face, and teared up a little. I had missed her so terribly much; physically ached to be away from my support, my anchor, my wife. I would never tell her that, but she knew. I kissed her again, then passed out beside her.

--------

The next morning I was pleasantly surprised to wake without a hangover. Not only did that vodka produce an absynth-like buzz, but to come away free from punishment the next day? I just found my new favorite booze.

Tori was out on the balcony, dressed only in a thong. She was glistening wet--the running shower must've awakened me. She was looking out on the strip and I admired her profile as well as her sexy disdain for peeping toms. We were twelve stories up, but still...I shook my head, still confused by the effect that had on me. The 'sex' game in the car, hooking up in city parks and in parking lots, sunbathing at European-style pools...seeing my wife expose herself publicly turned me on, no doubt about it.

She turned and walked back into the room, smiling at my groggy face. "Hey, you. Get up--we're going shopping."

She could write a book: "How to Squash an Erection in Five Syllables or Less." I groaned and fell back into the bed.

"...for lingerie..."

Hold the book deal. "Okay, I'm up, let's go. Put on a t-shirt or something, woman, you're slowing us down."

She laughed. "Hold on, let me dry my hair."

Watching her ass bounce as she walked by, I was overpowered by the simple sexiness of her wet body, and I dropped my pants and followed her into the bathroom. She didn't know I was behind her until I grabbed her boobs, and she shrieked and giggled as I nuzzled her neck.

"Babe...we have to get ready! There's a lot I want to do before tomorrow."

"Don't let me stop you. I just want to fondle your body since I've been away from it for so long. I won't get in the way."

I was most certainly in the way, but she didn't care. I could feel her nipples harden as I continued sucking on her shoulder, and when I finally dropped my hands away to get dressed I could see the flush rising in her cheeks.

Day #2, Chipotle burrito #2: barbacoa and pinto beans. Heaven in a tortilla. This was followed by Baskin & Robins, my favorite ice cream. Vegas is very cool.

Despite my objections, shopping with Tori in very nice stores is actually a lot of fun, because she gets so ridiculously excited that I can't help but find it entertaining. She has impeccable taste and snobby employees who initially treat her sweet disposition with condescension very quickly realize she knows more about fashion than they do and drop the attitude, instead asking for her opinion on things and offering suggestions with a lift at the end of the sentence, as if seeking approval. Tori doesn't notice this, but I do, and where I would get sarcastic and cleverly mock them, she wins them over and usually ends up with some kind of discount at the register because they like her so much. Charm and manipulation will never beat pure kindness.

The only downside to the afternoon was that we spent very little time looking at lingerie; apparently she just wanted to get some sexy panties. Don't get me wrong--it was great, but for every minute we spent looking at thongs and boy shorts we spent ten minutes somewhere else looking at shoes, jeans, belts, etc.

We decided to stay in the hotel again this evening, eating a light dinner out then returning to do some late-night gambling. Usually we go to off-Strip casinos where you get better odds and the games are less intense, but tonight we wanted glitz and excitement, so we went back and forth between the Encore and Wynn floors, playing blackjack, watching poker, and I threw some dice while Tori played Paigao. We came away down for the evening, but it had been fun. We made it all the way to 5 am, and though we didn't quite look like zombies, we definitely crashed when we got back to the room.

------

It was well after noon when we finally woke up. Remembering the vision of her from the previous morning, I suggested we spend the afternoon by the pool. She quickly agreed, then suggested afterwards we get massages and I get a back adjustment.

"Damn, you make it sound like we're preparing for a sporting event."

"That's actually how I'm thinking of it," she said, completely serious.

She wasn't kidding. She had a food and hydration plan for the whole day: healthy energy foods along with sports drinks and fruit juice. We brought a bag of snacks with us down to the pool, along with books, iPods, sunglasses, towels, lotion, and all the other crap you take for a relaxing afternoon of lounging.

She didn't need to ask, she simply walked through the family pool to the secluded European pool. The only two chairs we could find together were in the back under a palm tree, and while we wouldn't get as much tanning done, on the upside it wouldn't tire us out as much. We fussed about and got situated, then settled in to read and enjoy the balmy weather.

The demographic was slanted toward our age group, though there were some couples in their mid-50s. I glanced around under my sunglasses, appreciatively taking in some of the women on display, but ultimately I returned to my book. Just like when I see an attractive girl on the street, after confirming that she is pretty or defining what about her caught my eye, I consciously dismiss her and don't look back again. I do this out of respect for the girl as well as for my wife. If you're in a relationship, what's the point of doing a double-take? All you're doing is conjuring up longing for something you can't have and far more often than not you know your significant other will be hurt if they knew what you were thinking.

Along those lines, if Tori is with me, I will openly tell her that I was checking out another girl, describing what about her drew my eye--"I like her hair," "She has pretty eyes," etc, even going so far as "Wow, she has a nice butt." I know she won't be jealous of this and many times she will even voice agreement. After a moment, both of us will forget all about her and move on with our lives. Even better are the times when I will say something like, "She looks good in that skirt. We need to get that for you." My college roommate's girlfriend (now wife--poor bastard) would have stabbed him in the throat for saying something like that out loud. Tori, on the other hand, will take note of the skirt, decide if it would fit her the same, and either try to find it or look for an alternative that would look better on her. No jealousy--simple honesty and trust are cornerstones of our relationship.

Yes, we enjoyed having sex with other people, but it wasn't just for our own pleasure. We did it because it turns both of us on. Thus, our marriage is only open when the other is in the room. Anything else would have been cheating and I had absolutely no problem ignoring those temptations. I loved my wife completely and could not imagine betraying her trust.

That being said, coming back to the scenery around the pool, it also helped that I believed her rack to be far superior to any of the others on display, so it was easy not to be a pervert--I had the best of everything already. Speaking of which, Tori casually reached up and undid her top, dropping it into the towel bag. I played it cool, trying to keep my erection under control. It helped that we were in a corner.

She leaned over to get her water bottle, and I smiled as I suggested, "Y'know, some ice would be nice with that. Too bad it's all the way on the other side of the pool."

She sat back up, looking across the way as she took a sip. She screwed the cap back on and looked at me coquettishly. "Would you like me to go get you some?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," I grinned back at her.

Wearing only her sunglasses, thong swimsuit bottoms, and flip flops, my darling wife casually strode around the pool, past the bar to the water stand. Hardly anyone noticed her until she was by the bar, then I noted several glances in her direction from all around the pool. She scooped ice into a plastic cup, then walked back along the same path. This time heads followed her all the way around. I put on a casual face and made like I was reading again, totally unaffected by my wife's breasts on display. This was not at all the case, however.

She bent over, her beautiful ass facing the pool as she placed the cup between my legs, seeing the bulge in my swim trunks.

"Is that better?" she asked, smiling sweetly.

"Much better, thank you," I replied without looking up, suppressing a grin.

She settled back into her chair, and I reached out and pulled her lounge chair over to mine. The loud scrape of plastic on cement, coupled with her squeal, drew looks from everyone nearby, but I kept right on reading my book as I smiled contentedly and took her hand in mine.

----------

The massage was incredible. I've always enjoyed massages, but not in the way you might initially expect: I find the idea of a "happy ending" disrespectful and completely off the mark. It is an ancient profession with the potential to resolve much deeper issues than a certain 'itch.' I've always had spinal problems, though, so perhaps I am the one missing the point of the tugjob finish, but even then, to me the long-lasting effects of a good massage are far more pleasurable than getting some strange.

On the other hand, the thought of my wife being worked over by some 6' stud named 'Sven' was a lovely visual image, especially if she was getting turned on by it. I'm weird like that.

After the massage, a chiropractor came in and adjusted my spine. He left, and I took a nap in the warm room, completely relaxed. When I awoke, I was refreshed, relaxed, and absolutely stoked about the coming night. I was a child again, waiting forEVER for Christmas Eve to end.

When I got back to the room, Tori was in the shower. I quietly joined her, and she handed me the soap and offered her chest from my inspection. Lathering up, I started sliding my hands across her semi-tan breasts while we talked about our massages. Sure enough, she had a hunky dude rub her down, and while she wasn't exactly moist from it, she certainly felt like putty in his hands the whole time.

"That's nice...mine gave me a blowjob, then brought in her twin sister and ate her out while I did her from behind. Or maybe she was being licked while I did her sister from behind. I dunno, it was hard to keep them apart."

"Charming. Could you wash something other than my boobs?"

"Nope."

"Well, hurry up. We only have three short hours before the doors open, and I probably need every one of them to get ready."

----- CLUB AURORA ------

Tori was dressed to kill: black, skintight strapless dress that barely extended to mid-thigh. Her dark hair was hanging long from months of letting it grow and it shone gloriously with her dark purple highlights. Her makeup was simple but erotic: dark lipstick and heavy eyeliner with emerald eyeshadow. I was also dressed in black, a button-up long-sleeved paisley shirt and designer jeans, with stylish leather shoes Tori had picked out for the occasion. We looked the part of a young, affluent, sexual couple--which we had every intention of being this night.

The taxi delivered us to the club and I took her by the hand and led her up the stairs. There was no line outside, just three bouncers. Unlike the usual giant meatheads you expect at nightclubs, these three looked only slightly bigger than average, but given my profession I recognized their competence. You would be a fool to mess with any of them.

"Please show me your IDs," the center man asked politely. We held them up, and after consulting his tablet, he nodded once and stepped aside.

We entered a darkened foyer with an elevated podium in the center. A smartly dressed woman sat behind it and she motioned for us to approach.

"Please place your right index finger on the scanner," she asked.

I did so and watched a red light scan across it.

"And now you."

Tori did the same.

"Welcome to Club Aurora, Mr. and Mrs. Riest,"(I am always impressed when people pronounce it correctly the first time). "Both of your blood tests came back clean, as did your background checks. Are you familiar with the rules of this establishment?"

"We are," I said as Tori nodded.

"Good, then I will ask you to sign, date, and print your name on these waivers and terms of agreement. Here are your membership wristbands. They are individually numbered, so do not lose it or remove it for the duration of the evening. If you do, you will be removed from the premises."

Familiar with what was expected thanks to the website, Tori and I filled out the forms and handed them back.

"Excellent. You may proceed through the double doors over there. Enjoy your evening." Her efficient professionalism contrasted starkly with what I suspected went on here every week.

Stepping through the door, we entered a large dance floor with all of the staging and lighting you would expect from a high-class nightclub. There were several bars spaced throughout, along with pieces of furniture with lots of cushions, platforms, and a few stripper poles placed seemingly at random.