Add: 5 August 2015 / 16:51
Traveling has always been fun for me, and this particular trip would likely be very different. Most of my excursions consisted of me operating on my own time, over indulging in a few areas and fully embracing the tastes of the local cultures. Not only would I be unable to engage in any of the sexual activity that I looked forward to and enjoyed while away from home, but I was constantly surrounded by family members and had absolutely no privacy.
I was in Vegas for a week enjoying a destination wedding. Sin City. Usually.
In the days before my departure, I made concentrated efforts to orgasm hard and often. Bruise worthy aggressive sex, coupled with me damn near rubbing myself raw in between, insured that I did just that, with much success, I might add. By the time I boarded the direct flight number four twenty nine from JFK, I was completely sated with surely the most contented pussy in flight.
Arrival to my hotel was hectic, but uneventful, and after ten hours of travel, I was glad to enter my hotel room overlooking a beautiful view from the twentieth floor. I smiled as I thought about my plans to sight see and spend time with family members that I haven't seen in years.
As I looked out of my full length glass window and down into the bustling courtyard of the hotel, I was taken by the amount of staff currently on duty and really appreciated what it took to run a hotel of this size. I recalled my brief interactions with the male bell staff and concierge and how friendly and helpful they both were.
The bell staff was a young black guy who couldn't have been a day over twenty three years old, and per his name badge, he was "Lee, Las Vegas, Nevada". Lee was slim, tall, eager and easily embarrassed as he readily blushed when I asked for his opinion on the food at the pizza place on the premises. Although Lee was significantly younger than the men I preferred, he made for a perfect fuck. Ambitious, zealous, strong, fit, and silently begging for the validation of an older accomplished woman like myself. With him, I wouldn't care to know his life's dreams and aspirations outside of the moment we shared together. I would honestly prefer not to have much more dialogue or information than his name badge already so generously provided.
Then, there was the concierge. He worked at the front desk with a female partner and when I was queued to be helped by her, he quickly waved me over to his line. As I clarified the location of the wedding ceremony, I easily noticed his strong hands gesturing in the direction that I needed to go in to locate the chapel. He was a distinguished looking man of maybe late forties, assured, and articulate. His name badge confirmed that he was "Craig, Fullerton, California". I could readily lose myself in a few choice thoughts about Craig, and how skillful those hands likely were. However, much like that moment at the desk, I was being crudely pulled back into reality by a question from a relative.
"Where are we eating tonight? Are we going to try that place the bell hop suggested?"
Damn, when was the last time I was eaten?
"Sure, that sounds good," I said instead to the double paned glass in front of me.
Stepping away from the window with a silent sigh, I changed my shoes and headed to the food court with a hungry group of people in tow. After a good meal and some reminiscing of childhood stories at the expense of others, we decided to call it a night.
As we retired to our respectful quarters, I thought of Lee and made a mental note to thank him on his suggestion. I could see him blushing and being uncertain of what to say next.
"Hey, do you mind if I shower first?"
"No problem," I replied. I figured that the time and space would give me an opportunity to check my emails.
Prior to leaving, I informed my friends that due to my lack of privacy this week, I would not be accessing the site for chats during my vacation. The last thing I needed was Lush fuel to expedite and exacerbate my arousal, when circumstantially, I couldn't do anything about it.
Browsing my Lush emails wouldn't hurt though, right?
Once I heard the shower running, I sat upright on my bed, flipped open my lap top, and swiftly made it to my home page. I was greeted by the number eight in parentheses indicating the amount of unread emails that I had received since my last log in. I opened the earliest email and like an inmate in solitary confinement getting a letter, I read it excitedly. Once I read through all of my correspondence, I decided to respond to one of them in particular. He always had a way of titillating me with his words, even when he's not trying to. As I drafted my reply to him, a black box appeared in the upper right hand corner of my screen.
"How's Vegas Wonder Woman?" the black box asked.
"Having a great time, and I was just emailing you back," I replied, already smirking with anticipation.
A few pleasantries is all it took before I started to feel that oh so familiar weight hanging between my legs. It felt like an anchor. Trying to maintain my tact, it was hard to keep the conversation light and easy. I was just beginning to slip into a pre contemplation stage of naughtiness, and then I heard the shower in the bathroom shut off.
With my privacy screeching to a halt, I considered ending the conversation right then with a "gotta go" message, but I cringed at having to be so abrupt. Instead, I decided to ask him for a few minutes to switch to a more portable and discreet device and end the talk in the bathroom. I only had a few minutes before I needed to shower anyway.
When I entered the nine by ten foot bathroom and closed the door, the brevity of my private space was pitifully before me. A sprawling marble sink, an over sized bath tub and shower, and a heated wall rack, brazenly claimed my precious nook. It was a dismal reality that this would be the only area that I truly had to myself for the next five days. Even as I tried to comfort myself with these abbreviated accommodations, the sounds of laughter permeated through the door and tauntingly found it's way into my ears.
"Seems like you've been gone for so long, I miss you already," he said.
"Awww, thanks babe. I'll be home before you know it," I reassured.
"What do you all have planned for tonight?" he asked.
"We just had dinner, so I need to shower and hit the bed, my feet hurt from all this walking," I reported.
"Oh, ok then. I know the time change is tough too, so get your shower and rest that body," he suggested. "You know that I would gladly rub those feet of yours if I were there," he added.
I knew that at this moment, I was mere seconds away from a sex filled exchange unless I changed our course. I had no choice but to reroute us.
"I know you would baby, and I appreciate that," I replied.
Being ever so mindful of my nuances, he followed my lead and began to share about his day. After a platonic recap, we bid each other good night.
Logging out didn't mean that my arousal was easily dampened. Trying to reclaim my flight contented baseline, I quickly showered and shaved, and in my haste, caused an injury. In my attempt to trim a few hairs from my chocolate pussy, I recklessly sliced into the soft puffy flesh that is adjacent to the hood.
In a flash, I saw a faint tinge of pink water circling the drain before it disappeared. If that wasn't a joy jacker, I didn't know what was. Dammit.
While I applied pressure to my wounded soft spot, the powerful surging hot water running over my skin felt like wet fingers grabbing at me from every direction. With steam filling the poorly ventilated room, it would have been easy to place my leg on the edge of the tub and offer those liquid digits to my core. The thought of being mauled like that heightened my response and my hungry skin yearned for more. Despite the heated space, I was briefly covered in goose bumps, my epidermis raising higher to meet an invisible touch that much sooner.
If pressure can stop bleeding, what can rubs do?
I must have been trying to discern that information as I found myself rubbing clockwise circles around my clitoris, and enjoying the weakening I was beginning to feel in my knees.
Reluctantly, I stopped rubbing and with my pity party in full swing, I turned off the shower, toweled off, and got dressed for bed. I exited the bathroom and sheepishly joined the excited voices on the other side of the door, drowning out the dull roar that was trapped hostage inside of my panties. I had survived, and sleep couldn't come soon enough.
Although we had a full day of activity, my mind drifted often to my wounded entrance. It didn't hurt, but I easily convinced myself that I would be negligent if I didn't at least take a closer look at it tonight when I showered again. Besides, it's the only pussy I've got, and I need to keep her in good standing.
Oddly, this resolve activated me even more and I began to think about my last orgasm and how long it's been since I've had any tending to. Damn, when was that again...?
"What's the name of that place that you wanted to have dinner at tonight?"
"Oh...yeah, um...Cravings. It's located inside the Mirage Hotel," I replied.
Speaking of which....
"OK, so how about we all meet in the lobby around seven?"
"Sounds good," I replied. By now, I was officially feeling flushed and slightly perverted as it now seemed that everything reeked of secret sexual innuendo with me.
Back in the hotel, I found myself with an hour free before we were due to head back out.
Maybe I should check my email to see how his shift went last night?
I mean, what I really wanted and needed was relief, and that was still days away. My room was bustling with relatives and despite the spacious layout, I felt stifled.
Instead, I opted to take a quick peek at my injured mound.
I went into the bathroom and ran the water in the sink for more privacy. For some reason, that running tap always makes me feel more insulated. I removed my white Capri pants and black ruffled panties and placed them on the marble sink.
I climbed on top of the sink, opened my legs and slowly offered the mirror a non judgmental view between my limbs. Precariously seated on the sink, I placed both hands like loving butterfly wings at each side of my pussy lips.
I patiently pulled the skin apart, causing the opening to show and invite my exploration even more. I slowly traced my right middle finger along the moistened circle and wondered where the collected pool had come from. As I pondered my own question, I worked my finger into wider investigative circles until I reached the hood.
Already at attention and wanting to play, my clitoris was peeking out from the burrow like a frightened turtle. The soft pink tissue yielded so easily underneath my fingers and I felt the jolts begin to intensify and that weighted anchor would surely be back in no time.
Readjusting on the sink, the heat from my ass caused some friction on the cold marble beneath me. I wasn't aware of the friendly fire between my steamed core and the chilly stone I was sitting on without much trepidation. Lucky for me, my ass was winning and I continued my slow journey until I felt a sting.
Oh yeah, I DID cut myself
After closer inspection, I saw the scratch on my tissue that was shorter than the length of a fingernail, and slightly darker colored than the rest of the area. I decided that I really needed to keep this area quiet for a while and let it heal.
"Hey, are you coming or what?" a voice through the door asked.
I wished like hell I was
"Yep, be right out," I replied in a sing song voice.
The remainder of the evening was great and having dinner at my favorite restaurant in Vegas was a wonderful way to end my night.
Well, not exactly.
If my tangential survey wasn't stimulating enough yesterday, steady pulses throughout the day had my aches so strong, that I actually began to have vaginal pain. By the time my day was over, I just wanted to go to sleep and escape my torture. Despite wanting to, I decided against checking my Lush emails. That would clearly intensify my throbs, so why do that to myself?
Opting for a distraction, I found a Seinfeld rerun on a local channel and sat with my legs crissed crossed on the bed. Moments later, I heard a Yahoo ping on my phone notifying me of an instant message.
"Hey Wonder Woman, how was dinner?"
Smiling widely, I replied "awesome baby, it's my favorite place to eat. How was your day?"
"It was good, better if I had eaten at MY favorite place," he teased.
"Well, that eatery is shut down and in major violation of a health code right now. I cut it shaving last night," I confessed.
"Mon cher, how can you be on your way to a PhD, yet, you haven't learned how to shave yet?" he chuckled.
"Andre, be nice!" I smirked back.
"You need some soothing licks".
"Mmm," I purred and was sure to type three "m's" to convey my pleasure. "I have to send you a few pictures...," I trailed off.
"Merci special one, but right now, I only have one picture of you in mind," he flirted.
A few more messages like that and I already knew what was coming next. With slight effort, he converted my fluttering pulses to demanding pounds and I needed release so badly.
"Baby, I'm so horny," I finally confessed. Just saying those words felt so liberating.
"Is the room asleep?" he assessed.
"Go in the bathroom mon amour, run the shower, relax and rub it for me. I won't tell," he confided.
One of the things he did was tell me dirty stories which allowed me to rub and read, and was a guaranteed orgasm for me every time.
I did as he instructed and as discreetly as I could, I slipped into the bathroom passing what I deemed to be dozing and oblivious relatives.
I got completely naked, turned on the shower, placed down a thick towel, sat on the floor, strategically propped my device before me, and opened my legs. The previously tamed puddle at my entrance had become like a raging river and as I sat on the hard floor, and I felt my juices make a bubble and pop inside of me.
Opening my legs discarded the last teaspoon of dignity I was holding onto. The smell was strong and thick and the heat from the shower worked like a convection oven and baked the scent of sex into the air. I was already in third gear and could quite easily cross the finish line in a few sweeps.
While being the captive audience of his written filth, I used my middle and index fingers on my left hand to expose my saturated pink and needy button. I caressed it softly with the pad of my right middle finger. Fuck it felt so good. The intentional and unbridled rubbing thrilled me beyond belief.
I needed this so fucking badly
Sidebars within the story of his "naughty girl" pushed me harder and closer to an orgasm. My hips were grinding into my hand and my nipples puckered with excitement. With my orgasm breaking through, I could barely type the words to render my reply.
"I'm close," I managed to type in between frenzied swipes across my lust drenched clit.
He continued to take me with his electronic and perverse words that yanked me and forced me to press my back tight against the porcelain tub, my feet planted firmly on the floor, bracing for what I pined for so desperately.
My hunger building, my body needing, aching, begging for relief and I was so thirsty for it, a soft moan escaped my throat, and was thankfully cloaked by the running shower water.
"I can't hold it much longer," I informed him, laden with at least three typos.
"Don't," he said, and continued tugging on that internet rope like a fucking lasso.
As I climbed the last peak, I closed my eyes, dropped my head back slightly and methodically rubbed to orgasm. I felt the flood gates open as my clenching cocoa ass bucked against the hard white marbled floor. Deliriously defeated, my feet went off duty and my legs slipped down and extended on the floor before me. My cunt was quivering, my breathing labored, my body was completely racked.
I laid there naked on the floor, breathless and spent. I wanted to relent. I needed to succumb.
I am ever so fortunate to have Andre mon Géant à côté de moi . Merci.****************************************************************************************