What Goes In Vegas

I lay there, washed out but feeling exhilarated. Then, I came to my senses, realising I was lying in my sticky mess on our bed cover. I wanted to shut my eyes and rest for a minute but had to get a flannel and the hairdryer, then spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning the bedspread. Once satisfied with my efforts, I lay back and shut my eyes.

Ray returned from the show around 6:00 to find me asleep on the bed. I woke as I heard the door click closed. I still had my skirt on and my blouse open.

Ray stood at the foot of the bed with his mouth open.

"You have no knickers on, and what have you done to your hair?" He squeaked.

Not wanting to get into any conversation about why I was lying there exposed, I pulled him down beside me and rolled over on top of him. Then we both grappled with his zip and pushed his pants down.

"I'm Horny," I whispered in his ear as I straddled him.

"What brought this on?" he asked.

I can't always control these things," I replied, having decided I couldn't tell him about masturbating or why I had.

I positioned above him, then lowered myself onto his rampant shaft. Ray's eyes opened wide, amazed at how soaking wet I was. He gripped and massaged my hips for a few moments as I ground myself onto him. Then he released my hips and reached up to grab my tits. His touch was rough and demanding, his ardour now thoroughly aroused. I leaned down and kissed him hard as his fingers pushed and pulled on my tits.

Then he pushed me up, grasped my skirt, and yanked it up so he could watch himself entering me. His hands found my hips again, and I came as he pulled me roughly against him. Not the earth-shattering orgasm I had had an hour before. But a small arousing group of cramps centred around my loins.

Ray had not come, and he rolled me on my back and took control. He reached down, lifted my hips, and pulled me to the edge of the bed. I found I was not done either. I was still aroused and wanting more. I lifted one leg slightly and let it bend outwards, giving him access, and let out a loud, lusty groan as he thrust into me again.

"Oh god yeah, yeah, YEAH, FUCK!" he began to yell as he rose to watch himself hammering into my now very swollen sloppy quim.

Soon renewed twinges of warmth were rolling through my loins as he laid his thumb on my clit and rolled it around in small circles. Finally, when he saw my body start to react, he came. I watched as his face screwed up with the intensity of his release, which brought on my third climax of the afternoon. I bucked my hips to meet his money shots and sank my fingernails into his bum, pulling him hard against me.

"Holy shit," he finally managed to say as we rolled apart. "We haven't had sex like that in years. I wish I could bring you to Vegas every week."

Feeling very much in love with him, I decided to be honest and tell him about lunch. But before I could open my mouth, he told me to get dressed as we had to be at dinner in an hour.

"We'll make this a good night as you won't see me tomorrow night."

"What!" I asked, "Why will I not see you tomorrow night?"

"I told you. The second to last night is always a dinner for those working on the stand. We will be in a convention room over at the Mandalay with the staff from several other stands." And he disappeared into the bathroom to have a shower.

I lay there thinking. I was sure that he had not told me about the dinner. But a thought came to mind of him blurting out about the staff dinner to some of our friends two years earlier when he had returned from Vegas. I remembered him bragging to his mates about all the show models at the dinner. And how beautiful they were and that a few delegates had disappeared with them for sex.

I remembered being upset that night and asked him if he had been with one of the beautiful models. He laughed and told me 'Of course he hadn't', that you had to pay for them and that they were incredibly expensive. Which had pissed me off at the time, as I naturally surmised that he would have slept with one if they had been cheaper.

And so, as I showered and dressed, I decided not to tell him about lunch and what I was doing the next day. At 7:30, we headed to Mandalay Bay. The dinner was at the Aureole restaurant. There must have been about fifty people there. Some had been working with Ray on the stand, others being senior management from other joint ventures in his company. I was seated next to Ed, the manager from England and his wife. I'd not met her before, as she wasn't on the tour with the other wives that first day.

Near the end of dinner, while Ray was off talking, Ed asked me if I was attending the final dinner the following evening.

"No, evidently, I won't be there." I sarcastically replied.

My snarky reply went totally over Ed's head.

"My wife hates attending those farewell dinners as well," he replied, "The guys all get drunk, and many of them play up, as there are always quite a few of those eye candy models from the show there."

"But your wife goes anyway?"

"Yes, she wouldn't let me go on my own."

I sat there fuming, feeling it was obvious why Ray did not want me tagging along. And I decided, there and then, that I would ask D.J. to take me dancing after the bike racing while Ray perved on all his pretty models the following evening.

Ray looked confused when he returned to find me in a bad mood and was equally confused and disappointed when we returned to our room that I would not resume our sex from earlier in the evening.

In the morning, I woke early, and when Ray got into the shower, I pulled on some jeans, a top and sneakers, grabbed my handbag and poked my head into the bathroom to say I was going for an early breakfast. I did not bother to tell him to behave, knowing that he would do what he was going to do whatever I said.

I arrived behind the Luxor's Spa a little after 7:00, but there was no sign of D.J. However, minutes later, he pulled up with a trailer holding two dirt bikes attached to his Durango.

He was out of the vehicle in a flash, helping me onto my seat.

"Why do you have two bikes?" I asked.

"The green one is mine. The Blue one is my mate Kurt's. He will meet us at the track. Have you had breakfast? It is about an hour's drive."

I answered that I hadn't, so he stopped at a drive-in and got us coffees and muffins, telling me we didn't need much as there would be a vast lunch served when the racing finished.

"Where is Kurt from?" I asked, thinking his friends would all be black and that Kurt did not sound much like a black guy's name.

"He's from Georgia, too. We met at College. He's a computer security expert and has worked at one of the Casinos here for two years." Then, realising why I had probably asked, "He's black, well brown really, his mother is German."

Was that why you came here to work?"

"It was one of the reasons. Yes. We have always been close and shared many interests. Now, my mate Kurt does date white women; you'll have to fend him off, as he'll be totally smitten with you."

I just raised my eyes and reminded him he had promised to behave.

He told me the track we were heading for was owned by a wealthy guy called Tiny Tex. The guy had lost his parents twenty years earlier and inherited substantial wealth. He had built a dirt bike track on his ranch, and that Saturday was race day. Afterwards, he put on a Barbecue for the riders and hangers-on at the ranch house.

When we reached the track, we pulled up in front of a large caravan. There were about eight of these, and D.J. explained that five of his mates had put money towards it and that sometimes he came out here and practised and then stayed the night in it. He also explained that only he and Kurt were here today, so I would have a private place to change and go to the toilet.

If I thought D.J. was a hunk, the guy who stepped out to meet us was next level up. He was almost too good-looking and would have made a lovely woman. Kurt was not as big as D.J. nor anywhere near as dark, but you could tell he had negro blood. Kurt moved onto full charm mode as soon as he set eyes on me. His face lit up in a broad, welcoming smile.

They both set about getting the bikes off the trailer and setting them up. After which, D.J. took me inside and got me to change into a pair of leathers, as he said he would take me for a quick blast around the beginner's track before too many of the others got their bikes going.

I tried to back out, saying I was too old to be on a dirt bike. But D.J. would not let me bail out. He said he would take it real easy and that I would enjoy the morning much better if I had an idea of where they were riding.

The leathers were a fraction too large, but he assured me they were only to keep the stones and dirt off, as he had no intention of dropping the bike.

Before I knew it, I was clinging on for dear life as we rocketed down the track. By the second lap, I was beginning to enjoy the experience, and he asked if I wanted to try the intermediate course. I was starting to trust him, as he had ridden fast but carefully, so I nodded my assent. This course had more jumps, and telling me to hold on, he accelerated and took on one of the smaller jumps. We must have flown through the air for a good five yards.

"You're a natural," he turned and yelled at me. "We'll do a slow turn around the main course now, and you can see some big jumps."

My heart was in my mouth, thinking he would start showing off, as most guys always seem to do. But he didn't. His idea of slow was much different to mine, but he pointed out all their takeoff and landing points and then rode back to the caravan.

The place was filling up now. There had to be thirty or more guys with bikes, and they all had wives or girlfriends. Most were white; I only saw one black rider besides D.J. and Kurt. All came over and introduced themselves. They were a friendly bunch.

During the first of D.J.'s races, a huge guy wandered up and introduced himself as Tex. He was at least six-six and had to weigh about 250 pounds. He had a couple of glamorous girls with him that I guessed were barely twenty years old. But he was friendly and told me I could use one of the bedrooms at the house before lunch to shower and freshen up.

D.J. only had three races, and Kurt four. Neither of them won a race, but both were near the front. Watching them take the big jumps and lay the bikes almost horizontally on the corners was exhilarating. At about 11:00, D.J. asked me if I wanted to ride on the back for the partner's race. I tried to decline, saying I had kids and other responsibilities. But he told me he would take it easy, and as I was a natural on the back, we had a chance of making the podium.

Ten minutes later, we were on the start line with nine other bikes. The flag dropped, and we accelerated from the line amidst screams and shrieks. By the first corner, we were in fourth place, and my competitive streak showed up. "Pass this one," I yelled in D.J.'s ear as we pulled close to a screaming blond on the back of a Honda.

Then we were around a corner and behind another bike with a screaming woman on board. D.J. turned his head and yelled, "Was I okay," and should he pass again. I just yelled at him, "Go, Go, Go," and we shot up a jump and came down a couple of yards ahead of them. There were just four laps. We passed another and had bikes trying to overtake us. It was amazing. I had forgotten all about being scared. We tried to catch the last couple, but he was a guy I had seen winning at least two of the primary races, and try as he might, D.J. couldn't get past him.

I was thrilled when we stepped up to receive our plastic silver medal, which, as much as I wanted to, I could not keep. Back at the caravan, Kurt asked me how I enjoyed the race.

"It was the most exciting thing I have done in years. I can't believe I did that."

There were still a couple of races, but Kurt and D.J. were not in either. So Kurt said for us both to go up to the house and have our showers before they were all taken and that he would tidy up the gear and load the bikes.

So I got my bag and clothes, and we walked the couple hundred yards up the hill to Tex's house. On the way, I asked how many bathrooms there were.

"Oh, there are around ten bedrooms, and all have an ensuite. But sometimes you must wait a while if there is a crowd here, and of course, some women take an age to make themselves pretty."

"Why don't you shower in the caravan?"

"We have to carry water to the caravan. Kurt will have filled the tank while we were riding. But it is easier to use the ranch house than carry all the buckets of water we need for a shower. Besides, the showers in the house are ten times better."

We were the first to arrive, and D.J. chose one of the larger bedrooms. I was impressed. The decor was impressive, and I saw much money had gone into the place. D.J. sat on the bedroom's balcony and told me to use the shower. The bathroom was huge. The shower was in one corner with no glass or anything around it. I couldn't find a lock on the bathroom door. But as D.J. had made no moves, I felt safe and stripped out of the leathers, dropped my lingerie on the chair with my clean clothes and immersed myself in a torrent of warm water.

I was shampooing my hair with my eyes tightly closed when I felt D.J. move alongside me and begin lathering up my back with a sponge. I let out a squeal, "You should not be in here. You promised to behave."

"I know, but I couldn't resist, and you didn't lock the door, so I took that as an invitation. I'll go if you want."

I weighed up if I should make him go. He had already seen everything, and his big hands soaping up my body felt bloody good. So I kept quiet and leaned back onto him. I felt his manhood against the small of my back, and I could not stop a low moan from escaping my mouth. My face was warm, and my body was humming with sexual tension. I realised at that moment that I wanted him and that I would not stop anything he did.

The bike ride had excited me and made me horny. His scrubbing of my body aroused me more than I wanted to admit. I held my head under the faucet and rinsed the soap from my hair and eyes, then turned my head to get a look at him. He was built like Atlas, the Greek guy you see holding up the world. Extremely black all over, and as I had fantasised, he had a huge cock pointing towards me. Christ, the thing wasn't fully hard, and it was bigger than anything I had ever dreamed was possible.

He turned me around to face him and lathered up my tits. I was embarrassed by how swollen and stiff my nipples were. When he moved his hand down my body, I squeezed my legs tightly closed, trying to appear modest. But it did not deter him for a second. I felt one of his long fingers sliding through my slit. Thoroughly drenched, my fluids thicker and more plentiful than usual, making me wonder if it had something to do with my bouncing up and down on the back of his bike. He had dropped the sponge and soap, all pretence of simply cleaning me, gone.

As his fingers worked on my dilated quim, I reached out and took hold of his cock. It was fully erect now. My fingers could not close around its girth. He asked me to lift my leg, and without thinking, I raised my left leg and let him grab it under the knee. He put his other hand under my right armpit, lifted me as if I were as light as a feather, and then lowered me over his shaft. A surge of excitement ran through me as I reached down and directed it to my eager opening. Then, D.J. slowly lowered me onto its length. I was momentarily concerned about his size, but then I calmed myself with the thought I had born two babies, so I should be okay.

I felt my sheath stretch wide as he sunk into me. Slightly painful, but it was a pleasant pain. It awakened a strong desire in me to be taken hard. I flung my arms around his neck and thrust my chest hard against him, getting off on the feelings this brought about in my taught nipples. I bucked my hips hard against his loins, delighting in the spasms that hit from my thighs to my shoulders. I was hoping he was getting the message that I wanted it rough. But he handled me gently as if his strength might break me.

"No hurry, my pretty Caroline, let me savour you. We have plenty of time."

So I relaxed and slowed my hips in time with his. The feeling of being filled with his huge cock suddenly overcame me. Ripples of desire shot out from my groin; I was coming before I could stop myself. I clawed my nails into his back, wailing out that I was sorry.

"What on earth are you sorry about, little lady?" he countered, "I have not finished with you yet. I'm going to give you plenty more orgasms like that today."

He would have kept going, but I stopped him because I was too sensitive for a moment. He eased up and set me down under the shower, then picking up the soap and sponge, he resumed washing me. Afterwards, he rubbed me down with a huge soft towel, then, as I moved to get my clothes, he stopped me and, taking my hand led me out to the bedroom and over to the enormous king-sized bed.

At this point, I tried to take stock of what I had just done. I had crossed a line. A line that I had sworn I would never cross. However, it had happened, and I couldn't go back now. And it had been the best sex I had ever had. I had thought my sexual experiences mainly had been good, but this had been different. Physically, it had been something else, but mentally, it was on another level again.

We stood and embraced at the foot of the bed. He lifted my head and kissed me. Oh! Those kisses were something else; within moments, I was short of breath and panting with desire. I couldn't remember ever wanting my Ray this bad.

Pushing me back onto the bed, he looped his arms beneath my legs and pressed them up until my knees were near my chest, and he held himself above me, taking in the view. Then, he lined himself up and thrust into me forcefully. He had become aggressive, just as I wanted, and I savoured the rapturous mews and whimpers he was driving from my lips.

Our shapes moulded together, our hands roaming over each other's bodies. I could feel the rigid muscles under his soft, smooth skin. He pleased himself, letting his hands roam and pleasure me, one moment kneading a nipple, the next it was between my legs circling my clit. His lips tasted and fed on my ears and the nape of my neck before he bent down and worked them on my nipples.

I felt his pulse quicken and knew I was exciting him. Realising this made my pulse race, and I knew I would climax again soon.

"I can cum again," I yelled, "Fuck me, fuck me hard, and cum with me, please?" I called out.

He upped his pace and pushed my hand down to my clit, wanting me to pleasure myself, and then his mouth sought out my rock-hard nipples, and I felt his teeth bite them hard.

"Fuck I'm going to cum. Give it to me, fuck me harder," I cried.

My body arched up under him. I flung my head back and let out a wail that would have been heard down at the dirt track. Swamped with my own needs, I barely felt D.J. tense up. But when he cried out in triumph, his body went rigid, and I felt his shaft pump globs of his seed deep inside me.

It was as good an orgasm as I have ever had, and when he finally rolled to my side, I told him so.

"That was the best I have had as well. God! How am I going to live without you? When are you leaving Vegas?"

"I have to be packed by 5:00 tomorrow evening, and we will drive to L.A. with all the company staff on a bus. But I'd like you to take me out dancing tonight if yesterday's offer still stands."

"Sure does, little Lady. They have a Dine and Dance at the Casino where Kurt works. It is top-notch. I'll need to take you back to the Hotel and get you some dancing clothes, though, as you won't get into the place dressed in jeans."