Add: 15 December 2015 / 16:00
After dropping off my fare at McCarran Airport’s departing terminal, I pulled my taxi down to the cabstand to wait for arriving passengers. I was fifth in the line, but I knew the wait wouldn’t be long. Today was one of the busiest travel days of the year. Putting my vehicle in park, I noticed that my cab smelt like a potpourri-scented locker room. It was time for a new air freshener. I sighed, it had already been a long Thanksgiving Day, eleven hours shuttling holiday travelers. Surprising myself, I was actually looking forward to going back to my double-wide and eating a celebratory microwave turkey pot-pie.
Suddenly, a blonde woman burst from the terminal entrance chased by a dozen people. A skycap followed the mob, hollering and pushing a full baggage cart of expensive looking luggage. He couldn’t keep up with his patron.
In a heartbeat, I recognized the blonde and realized that it was paparazzi chasing her. The woman was my favorite celebrity, Chanel Richards. I had followed her career for the last decade, ever since she had performed at Camp Anaconda in Iraq.
Ten years ago, Chanel was just getting her entertainment career established. She had started out as a stripper at Dixie’s Dance Hall in Dallas, Texas. Her big break came when she had been featured as Miss June in the 2003 Dixie Doll calendar. She had been photographed topless wearing white bikini bottoms and a straw hat, sitting in the surf on the beach on San Padre Island. The wet material of her swimsuit clung lovingly to her labia, producing a magnificent moose-knuckle that left nothing to the imagination. That same calendar still hung on the wall of my bedroom. The next year she was featured in a music video dancing in a bikini on a yacht while a famous rapper rhymed about bitches and hoes. A year later she had an invitation to entertain troops in Iraq.
With a crooked grin, I traced my finger along the edge of a worn photograph in my shirt pocket and said, “Fuck it.”
I put my cab into gear and pulled out of line. Displeased competitors honked their horns. The compliance officer at the cabstand took down my tag number. I knew I would get a citation for cutting line. Oh well, it wouldn’t be my first. Besides, there was a damsel in distress and I owed her one. I flipped-off the uniformed regulation enforcer as I drove by, adding to my growing list of citations. I sneered, “In for penny, in for a pound.”
Chanel had gained some distance on her pursuers, enough anyway, for me to swing my cab onto the sidewalk between her and the mob of reporters. The sound of screeching tires caught her attention and she looked over her shoulder.
“Get in,” I shouted out the taxi’s open window.
Nodding, she opened the back door and jumped into the backseat. As soon as the car door slam shut, I peeled out leaving the paparazzi cursing and breathing burning rubber. Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw the compliance officer making notes on his clipboard. I was most definitely going to have my license suspended. It was just a question for how long.
“Thanks,” stammered the blonde.
“Sure thing Chanel, welcome to Las Vegas,” I replied with a grin. “Where we going?”
“The Sands,” she replied. Smiling into the rearview, she added, “So you recognized me?”
“Most definitely and evidently I wasn’t the only one,” I replied then asked, “Don’t you usually have some kind of entourage to keep those vultures away from you?”
“I don’t have enough friends left for an entourage,” she said, sadly. After a silent moment she added, “I thought if I snuck into Vegas on Thanksgiving, I’d get lost in the crowd and then I wouldn’t need security. I told you I wasn’t lucky.”
“Probably would’ve worked in any airport, but McCarran. A lot freelance reporters hang out there because of all the celebrities that come to Las Vegas,” I offered, trying to cheer my passenger up. Then I added, “Besides, I think your luck is about to change.”
She looked into the rearview mirror then asked, “How do you figure?”
“I picked you up,” I replied, returning her gaze in the mirror.
She chided, “Aren't you a confident man.”
“It’s not confidence,” I retorted. “I owe you. What are the chances of the half dozen taxis lined-up at the terminal; a guy who owes you a favor would be driving one? It’s got be incalculable.”
“I see, but how do you owe me a favor?” she asked. She squinted at the taxi driver’s permit displayed on the dashboard. for a long moment she studied my ID then asked, “Have we met before, uh, Leo?”
“Yeah, ten years ago at Camp Anaconda in Iraq,” I said, handing her the worn photograph from my pocket. I added, “You were my lucky star.”
She took the photo and examined it. The decade old picture showed a younger and thinner Chanel dressed in a white one-piece swimsuit and high heels. In a tribute to Betty Grable’s famous pin-up photograph, she posed with her back to the camera with her yellow hair piled up on her head and looking over her shoulder. Unlike Betty’s photo, Chanel’s swimsuit had a thong bottom that revealed her beautiful butt. She had a sultry expression that silently said, won’t you just love to tap my ass. For some unknown reason a halo of light surrounded Chanel’s head giving the temptress angelic appearance.
Looking up from the photo, Chanel said, “You’re talking about the halo effect aren’t you? About ten percent of the photos had that phenomenon for some reason, not even the photographer could explain it. Believe me Leo, I don’t have much luck, not lately, anyway.”
“Maybe, but choices and chance are two different things.” I pontificated, looking into the rearview, catching her eye. “You’ve made some poor choices. Has nothing to do with luck. And, you’re most definitely my lucky star.”
“You said that already,” said Chanel. She had deep blue eyes just like Liz Taylor, whose eyes could appear violet at certain times. Now was one of those times. She replied, “How am I your lucky star?”
“I caught your act in Camp Anaconda. You were the star of the show. I really liked your dance to These Boots by the way.”
“Thanks. I had so many requests for that routine that it was made into a video. Axel Springsteen and his band performed the song. It won a music video award. All the proceeds from its downloads were donated to the USO.”
“I downloaded it. You were so hot in it. If you don’t mind me saying so, but Axel doesn’t seem to be the type to donate a dime to anybody.”
“He’s not. I had to persuade him,” she said. Her eyes faded from voluptuous violet to ice blue.
Noticing her cooling vibe, I changed the subject, “Anyway, I stood in line for two hours to get your photo.”
“Two hours, no way,” she giggled. “I should issue an apology to all the soldiers that got that picture. It had ‘Good Luck’ and ‘From’ preprinted on it. All I had to do was sign the G.I.’s name and my name. I hated how freakin’ tacky it looked.”
I chuckled, “I didn’t care. I just wanted your picture. I’ve carried it ever since.”
“Why? It’s such a cheesy photo.”
My voice broke with emotion, “A few weeks after I got that photo, I was in the Battle of Fallujah. It was a tough fight, street-to-street, house-to-house. Nine of us walked into an alley…(choke)…I was the only one that walked out again. We got ambushed…(choke)… two dead and six wounded. I killed half-a-dozen insurgents…(sigh)…and came out of that alley without a scratch. All the guys in my squad were at your show and got a copy of your photo. I was the only one that received your halo picture. So, I figured you’re my lucky star. You saved my life, helping you get away from the fucked-up paparazzi is the least I can do.”
Chanel scooted up in her seat and handed the photo back to me. She kissed my cheek and whispered, “You’re sweet.”
The kiss made my internal temperature rise along with my cock. I blushed. The magical moment was broken when Channel’s cellphone buzzed.
She glanced at the caller ID then said, “Excuse me, I should take this… it’s my agent.”
“Sure,” I nodded.
“Hello, Seymour. Gossip TV has called you already? I’m not surprised, the way the paparazzi ambushed me at the airport. Has my overpaid lawyer been able to get that horrible video taken off the Internet yet? It pisses me off that Axel is making $10,000 a day off of it.”
I knew what Chanel was discussing with her agent. It was a sex video made a couple of years ago. It was right after she had divorced Brody Wilson, a professional football player. They had made a cute couple and their marriage had lasted almost seven years. I thought it was a shame they divorced.
Anyway, after her marriage fell apart, Chanel dated several celebrities, including rocker, Axel Springsteen. A few days ago, he had put a video of Chanel on a site called SexNet. It was a popular web site for amateur porn that paid big money once a video went viral. Like the majority of the male population in the country, I had watched the video of Chanel’s sexual performance as soon as it hit the Internet.
I recalled the video. It opened on a blindfolded black man tied to a chair, in an empty room. The blindfold hid the man’s face from the camera just as it hid from the man the woman who would be pleasuring him. And, what pleasures he would experience. Axel Springsteen was shooting the footage and his whiskey-scourged voice could be heard from behind the camera saying, “Hey Buddy, tomorrow’s the day you tie the knot. What kind of friend would I be, if I didn’t provide you with the last piece of strange you’ll ever enjoy?”
That was Chanel’s cue and she made her appearance on screen. And what a sight she was, wearing nothing, but thigh-high leather boots with stiletto heels. The black leather contrasted and highlighted her creamy white skin. Her beautiful breasts swayed with each step and her pert nipples were rigid, begging to be sucked. She shot the camera a sultry gaze. Her expression was one of pure wanton sensuality. The memory of it made my cock grow harder.
When Chanel reached the tied up man, she stood over him a long moment then bent and kissed him deeply. It was as if she knew that kiss would reduce his uneasiness about being blindfolded and bound. The kiss grew more passionate and no doubt increased his desire. Suddenly, she broke the kiss and the man groaned his discontent.
She ripped the mystery man’s shirt open. Buttons flew in every direction. They could be heard rattling and rolling on the hardwood floor. The screen view tightened onto the man’s exposed torso as she raked her painted fingernails across his bare flesh. Goose-bumps arose on his dark skin and the muscles of his abdomen trembled with excitement. An enthusiastic moan arose from the man.
The camera panned back out and centered on Chanel’s face. Her expression wasn’t a bit modest. Yet, it still had an element of shyness to it. Her mischievous half-grin communicated that she was fully aware of what she was doing. She definitely knew the pleasure she could give a man. The twinkle in her eye revealed that she was looking forward to it. There was something so captivating about this woman. She made a man feel so many things with just a glance of her mesmerizing eyes.
She dropped to her knees and unbuckled the black man’s trousers. She fished out his rather sizable cock. Her face was stunningly expressive as she slowly stroked it. Squeezing his shaft, she circled her thumb over his frenulum smearing his pre-cum all over it. She kissed his cockhead then teasingly tongued his cock-slit.
The black man’s body jerked like it had received an electric shock and his cock lurched in her hand. He strained against his bonds. Realizing he was utterly at her mercy, he settled down and accepted his fate.
It was hypnotic to watch as Chanel doled out erotic attention in tempered measures. Her wet tongue traveled unhurriedly down his length in a sensuous lick. She sucked on the mammoth head of his cock while leisurely stroking his substantial shaft. It was amazing how she brought the man to brink of climax then back-off only to push him to the edge once again. She knew how to keep the pleasurable sensations of a blowjob at their ultimate peak.
The man groaned when she let go of his cock. It landed with a wet smack on his stomach. It touched his navel and pulsated with each beat of his heart. He snarled, “Bitch.”
Chanel chuckled as she stood up. Turning around, she faced the camera and straddled the man’s lap. She hovered above his lap with her back to his front She lifted the man’s beefy cock off his belly. Parting her puffy pussy lips with her free hand, she slowly lowered herself onto the massive member. A high-pitched animal-like squeal escaped her as his thick cockhead slipped into her eager snatch. She slid down a little ways on his cock, pausing to adjust to his girth. Her glistening cunt lips wetly clung to his cock. Moaning and groaning, she used gravity to help her sink further down his cock. At last, it was completely buried inside her. She had taken every thick inch of him. Her cunt lips stretched around his cock so tightly they looked more white than pink. Only his gigantic testicles remained visible to the camera. Leaning back against the man’s chest, she panted as if she had just run a marathon. Gently, she rolled his bloated balls in her hand while she caught her breath.
“You’re pussy is tight,” growled the black man gratified, that at last, he was balls deep inside Chanel’s pussy.
Feeling all of his cock inside her made her go absolutely wild. Gritting her teeth, her eyes rolled over white and her body shook uncontrollably. Her cunt exploded with a hard orgasm. She wailed, “OH, MY GOSH!”
“Damn, girl,” growled the black man between clenched teeth. He squirmed in his seat, fighting off his own climax.
From behind the camera Axel asked, “How’s that pussy, Buddy?”
“Pussy, oh yeah, pussy feels good, so good,” replied the black man through gritted teeth. He was still suppressing his orgasm.
“Big cock...feels so...so good...inside me,” stammered Chanel. She looked directly into the camera with glazed-eyes and grinned lustily. Slowly, she rose up on the black man’s cock. A wet snail trail of her excitement was visible on the big black cock as she slithered higher on it. Not stopping until just the head of his cock remained in her cunt, she paused for a second at the apex. The man’s cock visibly throbbed with exhilaration. Suddenly, she slid all the way back down his shaft in single movement. She rose up quickly then bounced rapidly up and down on his cock with just a couple of inches of his cock inside her until he whimpered. Changed the pace, she slid slowly up the full length of his shaft. Then just as gradually, she glided back down until his cock was fully inside her. She diddled her clit as she rode his cock trying to maintain her tortoise like pace. As her passion built, she picked up speed. Her big boobs bobbed and danced in rhythm to her humping. The skin on her neck glowed crimson. Wild-eyed and huffing, she sobbed, “Ooh...your...ooh...big....ooh...cock...ooh.” Suddenly, she ceased her erratic activity and impaled herself completely on the big black cock. Her body went rigid as she pushed her palm hard against her agitated clit. On camera Chanel’s face contorted into a grimace and her eyes grew wide with wonder. She gritted her teeth as her body shook then she threw back her head howled in orgasmic release, “Cum...my pussy...my pussy...cum.”
“Aw, fuck, cumming,” growled the unknown bound black man. He hissed through his teeth as Chanel’s cunt spasms milked the cum from his balls.
Once the black man had quit cumming, Chanel arose from his lap. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to Axel, who was still filming. Kneeling at his feet, she looked up at him with a sensual grin.
“How about untying me?” squawked the still bound man.
“In a minute, I need some relieve first,” snarked Axel. Clearly, he was irate that his friend had disrupted the sexy moment.
L ooking into the camera, Chanel pulled down Axel’s zipper and his cock sprang out like a jack-in-the-box. She reached for his throbbing cock and proclaimed, “Baby, your cock looks so swollen. Maybe, I should suck the swelling from it.”
“Yeah, why don’t you,” replied Axel.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” protested the black man. He snapped, “Un-fucking-tie me.”
Axel yelled, “I’ll untie after I bust my nut. Now shut-the-fuck-up or I’ll fuckin’ leave you for your bride to find. You want to explain how you got a wet dick the night before your wedding.”
The black man started to speak then simply fell into sullen silence.
Axel laughed then turned his attention back to Chanel, saying, “Suck my cock, Baby.”
Chanel didn’t hesitate. Looking right into the camera, her lips eagerly closed around the head of his cock and she sucked on it hard.
Axel groaned his gratification, “Oh yeah, baby.”
While nursing on the bulbous helmet of his cock, she cupped his testicles and gently squeezed them. Taking her mouth off his cock, she teased, “Axel, your balls seem so full. Are they full, Baby? Would you like to empty your balls into my mouth?”
“Oh, yeah,” choked Axel, his voice full of sexual excitement.
Chanel flicked her tongue delicately against his sensitive frenulum and sent tremors of pleasure to his core. The camera went out of focus as his body trembled. It appeared to give Chanel pleasure to give him pleasure. All the while her beautiful eyes made direct contact with the camera. She licked, sucked, and played with his hard cock with varying speed, rhythm, and intensity taking him to the edge of orgasm then purposely slowing down only to start the whole delightful cycle over again.
“You're....tort…torturing...me,” Axel stammered. He grabbed a handful of her hair in his free hand and pushed her head until she swallowed his entire cock. It was his turn to giggle as she gagged on his length. Soon he was thrusting hard into her mouth. A visible bulge appeared along the inside of her throat like a mouse going down the gullet of a snake. Alex’s thrusts grew quicker. The inevitable build-up occurred and he pulled his cock completely out of her mouth and stroked himself furiously. Cum spurt from his cock and splattered across Chanel’s face. It even dripped down onto her breasts. Once his orgasm was complete, Alex wheezed, “You’re a great cocksucker, Baby. Just like a porn star.”
“I’ll always be a porn star for you, Baby,” said Chanel looking directly into the camera. Her face was quite literally covered with Alex’s cum. One eyelid was painted completely shut, its lashes glued together with cum.
It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen and it was forever burned into my memory.
“Stop! Leo, Stop!” shouted Chanel from the backseat. Her voice full of fear and rage.
Lost in my reverie, I hadn’t noticed that a traffic light had turned red. I stomped on the brake and slid to a stop just shy of the rear bumper of the automobile in front of me. Shooting Chanel a guilty grin in the rearview mirror, I offered, “Sorry about that.”
“You were thinking about that fucking video weren’t you?” she barked.
Sheepishly, I nodded and replied, “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Is there anyone on the fucking planet that hasn’t seen me fucking DeMarcus?” she spat.
The identity of the man in Chanel’s sex video had never been released. Gossip TV had reported a rumor that it had been DeMarcus Steele, a former professional athlete now a sportscaster. While he denied the rumors that he was the one in the video, he had bought his wife some very expensive jewelry lately which only fueled the speculation that it was in fact him.
“I’m sorry about your trouble,” I said sincerely, looking into the rearview mirror.
Chanel held my gaze for a long moment then sighed, “You’re a guy. Guys like to watch women having sex. I’m the one that was stupid enough to let Axel video it.”
“So what are you doing in Vegas?” I asked, changing the subject. The light turned green and I accelerated the taxi down The Strip.
Her mouth curved into a full grin. She was ready to talk about something else. She said, “I’m staring in a cabaret show called, Santa Baby. It’s a musical about a naughty girl who uses her feminine wiles to get Santa to put her on the good girl list despite her bad behavior. Of course I’m not singing, just dancing. I’ll be wearing pieces from my own lingerie collection in all the dance numbers. So it should be good advertisement for my lingerie line and for my annual calendar. You should come see the show. I’ll be autographing all the calendars sold at the show. I’ll make sure you get one.”
I smiled and said, “That would be great.”
After Chanel returned to the United States after the USO tour in Iraq, she had been cast in bit part of a B-movie called, The South Town Slasher. She was the first victim of the killer and met her demise early in the movie. In her scene, she came out of the shower nude and slowly dressed in lingerie for a date. Her only line in movie occurred as she standing in the lingerie looking into a full length mirror. She said, “I’m going to really rock his world tonight.”
From that cheesy line she launched her own lingerie line called, Rock His World Lingerie. Every year since its launch she had produced a calendar featuring herself modeling the lingerie. It has been reported that the money she made from calendar sales matched the lingerie sales. I bought one every year and hung it in my kitchen.
Happy that the subject had shifted from the video to her cabaret show, Chanel talked excitedly about it. She was animated as she described the way the songs, dancing, and lingerie all blended together to tell the story. It sounded entertaining and I told her so. She asked me about my family and told I didn’t have any. Then she asked about what it was like to live in Las Vegas and if I had ever had any other celebrities in my taxi.
I explained that most celebrities used a limousine service usually arranged by the hotel they were staying at and asked how come she hadn’t.
She sighed and said, “I had, but the paparazzi cut me off before I could get to it.”
“Yeah, I know how you feel. It sucks to get ambushed. We had a saying in the Sandbox: Sometimes you meet your destiny down the road you took to avoid it.”
She smiled and said, “At least the paparazzi weren’t pointing guns at me, just cameras.”
I pulled to a stop in front of The Sands and put the taxi into park. Turning around, I looked into the beautiful face of my passenger and informed her of the fare. I added that it had been an indescribable pleasure to meet her and I wished it could have been under more pleasant circumstances. As Chanel passed me the money for the fare, our fingers touched. Our eyes met and suddenly my breath caught in my throat.
Her blue eyes were trending towards violet again as she said, “Leo, you’ve been so kind to me already, so I’m reluctant to ask…”
“Go ahead and ask,” I prodded when she paused.
“Would you go back to the airport and retrieve my luggage for me?” she asked. Her eyes held a desperation that melted my objections before I could even voice them. She added, “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Sure,” I replied with a caviler grin.
It took over an hour to get airport and return with Chanel’s luggage. It filled the trunk of my taxi and I still had to put a couple of bags in the back seat. I pulled up to The Sands again and parked. Two valets quickly loaded the luggage onto a bellman’s cart. A third came around the cab and opened my door. I asked, “What’s up?”
“Ms. Richards has requested that you personally deliver her baggage to her suite,” he replied. “Just call down when before you come back down and we’ll have your cab waiting.”
My shift had long since ended. I should’ve returned the cab back to the company garage. But, since I would probably be looking for a new job tomorrow anyway, I said fuck it and followed the luggage into the hotel.
A uniformed bellhop pushed the cart into the elevator and I followed him. After the doors closed and the elevator began to rise the bellhop asked, “Have you seen Chanel’s sex video?”
I simply looked at him.
“That bitch is smart. I bet she released it herself,” he speculated.
Recalling the hurt in her eyes and the pain in her voice, I asked, “Why would she do that?”
“Dude, to create controversy, controversy always generates a lot of interest. I bet that show of hers will be sold out every night. Like I said the bitch is smart.”
I poked the bellhop in the chest with my finger and growled, “You call Chanel a bitch again and I will most definitely break your fucking jaw.”
The bellhop took a shocked step back. He knew from the look on my face I wasn’t bluffing. Defensively, he held up his hands and whimpered, “Sorry, Dude. No harm meant.”
“And, don’t call me Dude either,” I grumbled. My stomach lurched as the elevator jerked to a stop. I followed the bellhop down the hall to Chanel’s room. The thought of seeing her again quelled my anger.
The bellhop knocked on the door and Chanel opened it, wearing a white terrycloth robe. She smiled at me and stepped aside. The bellhop pushed the cart into the suite. She said, “Since you don’t have anyone waiting at home and I’m all alone, I thought we might be alone together. The hotel has a reputation for a making a great turkey dinner. Please have supper with me, I’ve already ordered room service.”
“Most definitely,” I said with a smile.
As soon as the bellhop wheeled the luggage cart out of the suite, a room service waiter pushed in a food cart. Chanel tipped both the bellhop and the waiter then closed the door. Smiling at me, she said, “Have a seat.”
The suite was luxurious. An oversized sofa sat along one wall with a coffee table in front of it. On the opposite wall was a fully stocked bar with four bar stools. A dining area with seating for four was near the fabulous floor to ceiling windows. In the next room was a large king sized bed and very large bathroom.
I sat down at the small round table near the floor to ceiling window. The twinkling neon lights of The Las Vegas Strip were hypnotic. For a moment I thought I was dreaming especially when Chanel served me dinner. A slip of her robe gave me a peek at her bare breast, confirming my suspicion that she was wearing nothing underneath it. After she sat down, I raised my wine glass and toasted, “To the best Thanksgiving dinner I ever ate.”
“You haven’t even tasted the food,” chuckled Chanel, tapping her wine glass to mine.
“Doesn’t matter what it tastes like. I’m eating it with you.”
Chanel’s cheeks blushed red. Pleased with my compliment, she simply said, “You’re sweet.”
We ate turkey with all the trimmings and Chanel and I talked about a various topics. With a whimsical gaze she said, “I sure miss my ex-husband during the holidays.
I was surprised by the revelation. It had been over two years since had divorced Brody Wilson. He was engaged to an Olympic swimmer he had met at a charity event. Consoling her, I offered, “You two made a cute couple. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I suppose it was your different career paths that led to your divorce.”
Chanel shook her head sadly. Neither she nor her ex-husband had ever publically talked about the dissolution of their marriage. Sighing, she said, “Everybody thinks that Brody couldn’t stand all the media attention I got. But, it was a little more complicated than that. We were married five years before I could get pregnant. I suffered from endometriosis, so it was difficult for me to conceive. Because of my fertility problems we never announced my pregnancy to the public. You might remember the press made a big deal about all the weight I gained.”
I nodded, feeling her vulnerability.
A tear trickled down her cheek and in a hush tone she continued, “Six months into the pregnancy, I lost the baby. We never told the press. The doctors said it was pointless to try to conceive again. Our marriage unraveled. Brody wanted children and I couldn’t give him any. We really did love each other, but sometimes love just isn’t enough.”
Gently as I could, I wiped it away with my thumb. My voice was heavy with empathy as I said, “It sucks to lose people you love.”
Chanel’s eyes searched mine. She recognized the same loneliness and neediness she felt. A warm smile crossed her face. She realized that together we could banish the sense of isolation in which we both lived. Taking my hand into hers, she stood up and pulled me to my feet. Silently, she led me to the bedroom.
I followed enraptured by her delicate fingers entwined in mine. Mesmerized by the back and forth motion of her derrière beneath her robe, my cock grew hard. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at me. My cock throbbed with yearning.
In the bedroom Chanel untied the belt of her robe and let it drop to the floor. Pausing, she studied my face as I scrutinized her body. She had a natural beauty with a classical hour-glass figure. Even her big breasts were natural. H er nipples were hard and rose rigidly from the center of her pink areolas. Impishly, she smiled at me as my eyes roamed down her flat belly to her hairless cunt. Her pussy lips were puffy with anticipation and glistened with wet excitement. Sh e wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me with passion.
Returning her kiss, I encircled her waist with my arms and pull her into me, her ample breasts pressed against my chest. I taste her lips. Those sweet succulent lips of hers. I had wanted to kiss her since the day I saw her on stage in Iraq. My hand slid from her waist to her ass. I gave it a firm squeeze.
Consumed with a sexual hungry, she kissed me with a demanding intensity. It was as if she were trying to merge her soul with mine and left no doubt that she truly desired me.
The kiss fueled my lustful need for her. My hand found her breast. I gave it a gentle squeeze and she moaned into my mouth. My lips left hers and I nibbled on her earlobe. I kissed a path down her neck and shoulders, raising goose-bumps on her flesh. Kissing each breast in turn, I paused to study them for a moment. Finally, I took one of her rigid nipples into my mouth. I sucked on it hard and she arched her back, groaning with gratification. After completely wetting her nipple, I blew a warm breath on it.
“Oh, Leo,” murmured Chanel, running her fingers through my hair.
As I suckled, I released her breast and trailed my hand down her taut tummy. It trembled beneath my touch. Slipping my hand between her legs, I gently pushed my finger inside her. I studied her face to gauge her reaction.
“Yes, Yes,” she cried out with pleasure as I wiggled my finger in a “come hither” motion. Her body trembled with anticipation of further delights.
I slowly slid my finger back until it was barely in the entrance to her cunt then I would just as slowly push all the way back in again. Once it was fully implanted, I would wiggle it again. Soon she was moaning and groaning as I fingered her. With my finger still maneuvering inside her pussy, I tapped my thumb all around her swollen clit without touching it. From the way she moaned and squirmed on my hand, I would say that it was driving her insane with pleasure.
She whimpered with desperation, “Please, Leo, please.”
“Since you said please,” I teased with a smile. I once again slid my finger completely into her pussy and wiggled it. At the same time, I pushed my palm hard against her agitated clit.
“Yes-sah!” howled Chanel with climatic release. Her cunt contracted hard around my finger. She went limp in my arms.
The only thing better than watching her cum was making her cum. I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the bed. I laid her on the covers and she sighed. I watched her watch me undress. Unbuttoning my shirt, I let it fall to the floor. After I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks, I undid my trousers. I slipped them down then my boxers. My very erect cock swayed between my legs as I ambled to the bed.
Chanel had taken on an angelic repose. The ambient light shining through the floor to ceiling windows cast the room in a romantic pale. Cocooned in our desire the rest of the world simply melted away. After climbing onto the bed, I kissed her. Our tongues wrestled with lustful intent.
Breaking the kiss, she was ready for further sexual satisfaction. She wantonly spread hers legs as wide as possible. With unrestrained lust, she demanded, “I want you inside me now.”
Grabbing my cock, Chanel guided it to the wet entrance of her womanhood. Her thighs trembled as my weight press against her. She gasped as the bulbous head of my cock entered her pussy. She sighed as the rest of my shaft followed. Once I was balls deep inside her, she groaned with gratification.
As the moist heat of her cunt enveloped me, I bit my lip to keep from busting my nut. The wet walls of her cunt clutched my cock like a velvety handshake. When she constricted her cunt muscles, it felt so good I couldn’t help but cry out. There was no doubt this woman knew how to pleasure a man. I wondered if I had the ability to satisfy her. Fearfully, I huffed , “I’m not as big as DeMar….”
“You fit just fine,” she snapped. Then she kissed my ear and whispered, “Your cock feels good inside my pussy.”
Silently, I nodded my head, grateful with the knowledge that I was giving her pleasure. I looked deep into her eyes and slowly slid my cock back up her love canal until just its blunt head remained inside her pussy. I held myself there for a long moment. My cock twitched, aching to once again plunge into the depths of her cunt. Then gradually, I glided myself back into her pussy until my balls rested against her butthole. Over and over, I slowly sent my entire length into Chanel.
She groaned with each withdrawal and with each inward thrust she moaned. The closer she held me the slower and deeper I went. Each lingering lunge of my pelvic brought contact to her exposed clit. Each connection seemed to send an electrical charge of pleasure surging through her body. She clutched my biceps with death-grip as I rose up on my palms almost in a push-up position. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" she urged. She held on for dear life as I responded with an increased tempo of thrusts.
The wet flesh-on-flesh smacks grew more urgent as I pounded my cock into her pussy. Passionately, Chanel bucked her hips upward to meet my downward thrust. She matched her rhythm to mine.
I knew it wouldn’t be long before I busted my nut. My face felt flush as it contorted and my manhood thickened inside Chanel’s pussy.
She must have felt my cock twitching inside her. Seizing my face with her hands, she looked into my eyes. Her eyes went from burning blue to passionate purple. She insisted, “I want to look into your eyes when you fill my pussy with your cum.”
I shoved my cock as deep into her pussy as it would go. My bloated balls contracted then blasted their load deep inside her. Looking into her eyes, I groaned, “I’m cumming.”
Chanel felt my cum flood her cunt. She focused on my pleasure. Rapidly, she contracted and released her cunt muscles around my cock as if she were trying to milk the very last drop of cum from it. Reaching between her legs, she rapidly diddled her clit while my cock remained buried in her pussy. She screamed her release as the shockwaves of pleasure exploded within her from her own euphoric orgasm.
Lightheaded from my pleasurable release, I collapsed semi-conscious and completely spent on top of Chanel. Tenderly, I kissed her lips and rolled over onto my back and she cuddled against me. I hugged her close and smiled then drifted off to sleep.
I awoke as the morning sun peaked through the suite’s floor to ceiling windows. The skin of my neck was caressed with Chanel’s warm breath as she softly snored beside me. I smiled. It was the first night in ten years I hadn’t refought the Battle of Fallujah. I needed to leave this living fantasy and get back to my real-life before Chanel woke-up. If she had any regrets or recriminations I would be heartbroken. Quietly as I could, I rolled from the bed, careful not to wake her. Tip-toeing into the bathroom, I jumped into the shower.
Basking in the hot water of the shower, I felt a sudden rush of cool air as the shower door opened. Chanel stepped inside, smiling, she said, “Good morning, Leo.”
Her blonde hair darkened a shade as it grew wet beneath the shower nozzle. Water beaded on her luscious breasts and streamed down her belly to disappear between her legs. She kissed me passionately, taking my breath almost completely away. She traced a fingernail down the length of my hard cock. It nodded like a bobble-head in response. She looked into my eyes with lust and said, “I woke-up this morning with you on my mind and a deep desire to feel you inside me one more time.”
Cupping her breast, I gave it a squeezed. Then I lowered my head to her breast and took its nipple into my mouth. I sucked on it with increasing intensity until it was as hard as marble. I gently bit it and she gasped. My middle finger disappeared into the folds of her cunt. I pushed my palm against her mons pubis applying pressure to her clit as she moaned with pleasure. “Not there,” she said shaking her head. Taking the bottle of coconut oil and shea butter shampoo provided by the hotel, she poured its contents over by throbbing cock. Stroking my cock with one hand, she lubed it up. She had an expectant expression on her face as she said, “Nothing makes me cum as hard as anal sex. I want to cum that hard with you.”
Turning her back to me, she grabbed the shower-head and pushed her bodacious butt in my direction. Looking over her shoulder, she coyly demanded, “Fuck my butt.”
I slowly slid my hard cock into Chanel’s butthole, she gasped in the rapture of the pained-pleasure as her sphincter offered a moment’s resistance. Puffing and panting, she looked over her shoulder at me with glazed eyes. I groaned with gratification as my cock fully penetrated her ass. I paused, feeling her tightness on every inch of my cock.
“Pinch my nipples. Hard, but not too hard,” commanded Chanel.
I pressed her nipples between my forefingers and thumbs until she hissed, “That’s it.”
Chanel shoved two fingers into her snatch and worked them in and out of her cunt as I worked on her breasts. Sooner than I thought possible, she groaned, “Go ahead, Leo. Fuck my ass.”
Taking my time, I slowly withdrew my cock from her butt. When it was ready to escape her anus, I just as slowly slid it back into her. I repeated this tease again and again. I could feel her fingers stabbing in and out of her pussy as my cock worked in and out of her butt. With a blissful squeal of delight, she tabbed my cock as it slid into her. Surprised by the pleasant feeling, I gasped, “Wow.”
The sensation fired my passion. I thrust with a sense of urgency. My hands slipped from her breasts down to her hips. I used them to hold her still as I relentlessly pounded my cock in and out of her ass. I growled and grunted lost in animal-like lust. Blood roared in my ears. I buried myself into her. I cried out as white light burst in my brain and cum blasted from my cock.
Fumbling between her legs, Chanel found then tenderly squeezed my balls as they emptied their contents into her innards. She cooed tenderly, “Cum, Leo, cum.”
The last spurt of cum shot from my cock I kept my cock buried in her Chanel’s ass. I reached between her legs and pushed my fingers firmly against her agitated clit. Calmly, I commanded, “Cum for me, Chanel, cum for me now.” The pressure I was placing on Chanel’s clit combined with the fullness of my cock in her ass. The volatile mixture detonated into a powerful orgasm. A shockwave of intense pleasure shook her whole body. Ejaculate exploded from her cunt, splattering on the shower drain. Euphorically, she wailed, “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“That's it,” I praised, as her body convulsed in my arms.
Completely spent, Chanel’s slumped in my arms. If I hadn't had such a firm grip on her waist she would have fallen. With a grimaced grunt, she expelled my softening cock from her ass. Freed from her clutching anal passage, I gasped, “I’ve never cum so hard in my life.” Later, after we had dried and dressed, we sat on the couch. Chanel sat beside me with her head on my shoulder and her arms clinging to me. She sighed and said, “For the first time in a long time I didn’t wake-up missing my ex-husband. You might be my last chance at happiness. I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to, but we both know I got to,” I replied, hugging her closer to me.
She whined, “If I don’t want you to go and you don’t want to go, why do you have to go?”
“We live in two different worlds. Last night they aligned, but they won’t stay that way.”
“I don’t want you to go,” she insisted. Biting her lower lip in speculation, she asked, “You’re not going to sell your My Night with Chanel story to the press are you?”
I grimaced, “Sorry, I didn’t make a better impression. Last night was just between you and me. The world doesn’t need to know about it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as a tear trickled down her cheek. “It’s just that the men I’ve been with lately have taken advantage of me.”
“Then they weren’t real men. You should quit settling for less. It’s time to make your own luck by making better choices,” I said, wiping the tear from her cheek with my thumb.
“Then I choose you.”
“It won’t work.”
Sighing, I argued, “Because I drive a cab and you’re a famous dancer.”
“Those are just our jobs, not who we are. If you really think I’m your lucky star then you’ll take a chance on us and stay with me.”
I watched her eyes transform from a gloomy blue to a vehement violet. Smiling, I ceded her logic. Hugging her close, I said, “You are my lucky star and I will stay as long as you want me.”
The sun exploded through the floor-to-ceiling windows in bright pastels of pink, red, and orange. A new had dawned. Chanel kissed me and said, “I think I’ll want you to stay for a very long time.”