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It didn’t start in Vegas, but those two nights were stellar. I had flown in around ten-thirty that morning. I’d gotten this trip as a gift at Christmas and well, mid-February in the Northeast can get pretty ugly. I checked into my hotel, settled my stuff in the room and went exploring. Through the afternoon, I wandered the shops, the attractions, and the buffets, people-watching at its best. When I noticed the type of people changing, from the families to the more wild and crazy evening crowd, I returned to my room.
All alone in Vegas, I thought to myself, gazing vaguely out the window, seeing the insane coaster whip around the building, feeling a little queasy watching it. I don’t know what brought him to mind. I felt myself get warm, get wet, remembering our last meeting, and then firmly pushed him out of my mind. Wishful thinking wasn’t going to win me anything in the casino until I got there. I showered, dressed, fiddled with eye make-up, fiddled with my hair, glared at my reflection, knowing if I fiddled anymore I’d be looking like a clown.
The casino was hopping when I strolled in. Bells clanging, lights flashing, one-armed bandits clickety clicking. Dealers, looking both suave and kinda bored, flipped cards with precision and flair. After collecting a drink from the bar, I wandered over to a blackjack table. The dealer was young, cute in a Brad Pitt fashion, and he was smiling with his players, making their experience memorable. So I joined in. A few hands increased my meager pile of chips considerably, but I had more fun than anything. The other players at my table ranged from a newlywed couple to an aging granny who sipped her gin and tonics with a shake straw.
I think there was more cross table conversations than card playing sometimes. We’d commiserate when one lost; celebrate loudly when one won big. They were cheering for me at the moment, as I was on a streak of blackjacks. Four in a row, five. Loud, wild cheers drew more people to watch. Lucky number seven, I doubled my bet, drew another blackjack, raked in my chips. I looked across the table as the newlyweds bid us good night, tossed them a hundred dollar chip, saw him take their seat, saw him see me.
Our dealer, Seamus, dealt out another round. My first card down, an ace showing, I peeked, flipped over the queen. Eight in a row. I grinned at Seamus, “Y’know, if I keep going with this streak management’s going to come over and take me to a quiet little room and start asking me questions.”
“I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about, Miss Dari. If they were concerned, they’d already be here.” He grinned back. I saw him, across the table; smilingly order a drink, collect his chips, saw his eyes travel down my throat, linger on my bust, saw him lick his lips. I shivered watching. Seamus dealt again. My streak was broken, but I still held a twenty. Seamus was stuck at nineteen. Another win, another stack of chips. The gin and tonic granny touched my arm before I bet, then whispered in my ear, “Run this table child, take every last dime you can. And most of all get a hold of that big cowboy across the table. He’s a prize if I ever saw one.”
“I’ll do my best Stella. Enjoy the rest of your vacation and have a fantastic time with your greats tomorrow.” I answered, giving her a hug good-bye. My hand this round was like pulling teeth to get to twenty, which still topped Seamus’s eighteen. Two rounds more and I felt a presence at my right shoulder. I glanced over to see an impeccably dressed man, mid-forties, salt and pepper hair, deep brown eyes and a Hollywood smile. I flipped over another blackjack waiting for him to speak. Thinking it must be management, I collected my chips to sit out this round.
“Good evening, miss. You seem to be pretty lucky tonight.” He began, motioning to a passing waitress for more drinks.
“Seems like it, but I’m thinking I might quit while I’m ahead. Maybe catch a show.”
“I apologize, I’m John Bartley, senior vice president for this hotel casino and I’d like to offer you the hotel’s priority upgrade. Which is having your room comped, your meals…”
“You can comp her room, as she’ll be with me. Give her a discount in the jewelers.” I heard him say from behind me. John Bartley nodded, going on with a spiel I didn’t even hear. He was right behind me. I could feel his body heat near my back, felt my hair brush against his shirt when I turned my head.
I think I remembered to thank John for the hotel’s generosity. I felt his hand slide up my back, letting his fingers trail over my bare shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. I turned, looked up to his face, saw his warm brown eyes, deep with wanting, saw his mouth smile, barely caught the twinkle in his eyes as he took my hand, leading me away from the table. “How much are you up?”
“Oh, about eighty-five hundred.”
“Nicely done. Dance with me.” He said, pulling me close to spin with me. My body was thrumming being held against his. I couldn’t help myself and threw my arms around his shoulders, pressing myself tighter against him, feeling his arousal sincan escort against my belly, feeling like someone left the cage door open and my animal self was slithering out.
Someone passed us, mumbled “go get a room” as we danced toward the lobby and the cashiers. My skin felt branded everywhere his huge hands slid. Anticipation, excitement, flowed through me as he dipped me in front of the cashier window. The girls behind the counters clapped enthusiastically when he brought me to my feet. I handed over my piles of chips, which they turned into cash, which I stuffed in my purse without bothering to count it, and he whirled me away again.
“This is only an excuse to get my hands on you, you know.” He whisper growled in my ear, holding me tightly in front of the elevators.
“I know. And they’re sky-blue.” I watched his eyes go fuzzy, knowing he was picturing me in the sky-blue Perla set he’d bought and sent to me, along with almost every other color imaginable.
The elevator doors opened behind us, we moved aside to let the elderly couple alight from the box, and took their place inside. Once the doors closed I knew he’d be all over me and I’d be all over him. The doors slid shut, he pulled me hard against him as his mouth took mine, devouring me, nipping, biting. His hands kneaded my ass cheeks as he ground his hard on into me. I wrapped one leg around his waist, grinding just as hard against him.
I had a fistful of his hair in one hand, and a fistful of shirt in the other, trying my damnedest to climb into him as he pressed me against the wall.
“I can’t wait to get you naked.” His whiskey soaked voice groaned, dragging his teeth along my throat, nipping my earlobe, sucking it. His hands squeezed, kneaded massaged my breasts as I humped against him.
“I can’t wait for you to get me naked. I can’t wait for you to fill me up, to slide deep inside me.” I purred in his ear as his fingers slid under my miniskirt, under my panties, inside my wetness, pumping into me, making me gasp as the orgasm ripped through me, bucking hard on his hips. He swallowed my groans as the elevator came to a stop. We didn’t move when the door opened.
“Y’think the next people who ride this car will catch this scent?” He said, raising his fingers to his nose, breathing deep. “Y’think it’ll make them horny? Think they’ll get laid tonight?” He sucked them clean, grinned. Twinkle in his eyes, mischievous teen boy grin, and huge man-sized hard-on still throbbing against my thigh. Gently, he picked me up, cradled me, and carried me into his penthouse suite. “When I saw this suite all that went through my head was how I wanted to make love with you in the bed, in the Jacuzzi. How I wanted to fuck you hard against this bar, fuck you hard on the window seat in the master bedroom.”
“When did you get here?”
“Just after six.” He paused, gazing down at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” He sat on the couch, cradling me on his lap.
“I don’t know.” I answered, nuzzling at his throat. Nibbling, licking at him, tasting him, and inhaling him with every breath. Sliding my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, feeling that zing at realizing how broad they are, at how much bigger he is than me, at how he makes me feel so feminine. His hand slid up my thigh, softly pressing my legs apart, feathering touches along my slick slit, spreading my come up and around my clit. Our mouths met, a mingling of tongues, a sudden swallowing of my moan as he rubbed hard, making me writhe and squirm. “I want you inside me.”
“Not yet. I haven’t even gotten you naked yet.”
“Then get me naked.” I groaned as his finger slid inside me, again as he added another finger.
“You know it’s going to be a long night, don’t you?” He grinned when I looked at him. I reached for his top button, undoing it, following down the line, spreading his shirt open, running my greedy hands over his chest, through his light fur. “Your eyes are so green, so fierce, like you know now that when you finally surrender to me, it’ll be everything and so much more.” He growled between kisses, between meltings.
I pulled and tugged at his shirt until I could drop it, until my hands could roam over him, freely, greedily. Massaging him at his shoulder while his hand slid slowly along my spine, gripping his forearm as I rode another slow orgasm on his fingers. I crawled weakly astride his lap, snuggled my head in his shoulder, feeling my juices trickling down my thigh. His hands rested on my ass, gently rubbing, lightly kneading. Resting for the moment against him, still reveling in the aftergasms, afterquakes of incredible orgasms, I breathed him in. His musky, sandalwood-y mixed with honky-tonk and knew I was lost. Knew I’d give anything for these moments.
I sat up to look at him, feeling my head and my heart reel at the look of love on his face, watching it be hidden, deeply hidden, buried. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. His hands slid over my hips, up my ribcage to cup and knead my breasts. I saw his eyes sincan escort bayan darken as I moved over him, rubbing his chest with mine, worming myself on his rock hard bulge. His fur sensitized my nipples, hardening them into pebbles that his fingers teased even harder.
I reached a hand between us, flipping open his button, tugging at his zipper. He ground up against me, trapping my hand between my own wetness and his still silken clad cock. I could feel his veins on my palm as he slid on it. He grabbed me tightly, fastening his mouth to my nipple, my back arched, my wetness got wetter, my fingers slid the silk away so I could feel him, feel his heat sliding along my slit. One hand held my ass from moving, from letting me slide onto his cock, his other kneaded and flicked at one nipple while he nipped and sucked at the other.
I was flying with power, knowing this man, this incredibly powerful man, was mine to take, to possess, and to satisfy completely, as I knew he’d satisfy me. I heard my own mewlings as he tormented me, as he drove me up again, as he built up our passion again. He shifted us over, so he was above me, leading us along, sliding the very tip of his cock up and down the slit of my hole, spreading my juices, electrifying my clit.
“You’re still not naked, yet.” He pulled back, letting the room temp air cool my naked chest. I watched as he slid down my body, as he lifted my legs to his shoulders, as he buried his face between my thighs. I know I went blind. As soon as his lips touched me, sucked at my clit I went blind. I writhed as he slowly nibbled and licked at my slit. I bucked madly as he finger fucked me while sucking rhythmically on my clit. I screamed hoarsely as he brought me again to that blissfully violent release. “I like the garters and stockings…” he whispered, rising over me.
I saw his mouth and chin slick with my come, I kissed him, licking at his chin, tasting myself. I felt him lifting me from the couch, kicking his pants off as he carried me to the bed. He settled me on the lake sized bed, slid his silk skivvies to the floor, climbed on beside me.
“Do you think the laundry guys sniff the sheets before they toss them in?” I asked, slithering over him, down him. His answer was a deep purr, as I let my tongue lap at the tip of his cock. With one hand I cradled his sac, massaged it gently, while the other stroked his length. I rubbed his head over my lips, lapping it, nibbling around the ridge, mouthing it without sucking, letting it fill my mouth, letting my tongue wrap and writhe on his dick-tip.
I could glance up and see his smile gone now. His face told me how much pleasure I was giving him, how torturously pleasurable my ministrations were. When I finally slid my mouth down his shaft, I felt a shiver of power when he groaned, when he fisted a hand in my long, dark hair, when he cupped my head as I bobbed madly on his cock. “Slow, now…” I heard, barely, savoring that first taste of pre come. I had no choice to slow as he held my head, slowing my mouth, slowing his own pumping. As much as I was thirsting to taste him, I followed his lead, letting him control our pace, knowing I’d get my fill soon enough.
I raised my eyes again to his face, feeling that “more” between us as our eyes locked. He pulled me on top of him, stretching me out full length on him, entwining my legs with his. All the words neither of us could say were right there in our eyes, all the feelings we weren’t supposed to have were right there. Only with him could I be like this, only with me could he be like this.
His fingers were soft and gentle when he caressed my jaw, my throat, traced my lips. I took a fingertip between my lips and sucked softly, watching his eyes cloud over with passion and heat. I could feel the tip of his cock, nestled slickly between my other lips, twitch and jerk.
“Fill me.” I whispered. He groaned, sliding just the head inside, both of us feeling my muscles clamp down on him. A twinkle sparked in his eyes. Slowly, he slid in and out, just the head, really juicing me up. I felt my orgasm building, knew that when he finally did sink fully into me I’d be a quivering ball, coming constantly. A little deeper, then a little deeper. I felt his hips rise, felt him sink in, felt him rub that spot, pushed myself harder against him, growling, snarling as I ground him deep, as I rode him, as he rode me.
“Mmmm, yes, grind…..oh, yes…” I felt every throb, every pulse of his heartbeat shivering through me. I couldn’t get him any deeper inside me no matter how I ground myself on him. I could feel him, root deep, buried in me, rubbing that one spot until I was maddened, until I became that quivering ball of orgasms. His hands were everywhere on my body, skimming over my ribs, grabbing tight to my hips, gripping a fistful of my hair. His eyes flashed fiercely as I bit a little too sharply at his throat, they went blind as I rode him wildly.
I vaguely remember rolling around with him, rolled under him, rolled to be possessed and plundered. He rose escort sincan above me, his eyes dark and warrior like, ready for battle, as he drove me on, pistoning into me, driving deep with every stroke. My body betrayed me when he plowed me over yet another peak, legs splayed, and arms flopping like a ragdoll. Through the haze of satisfaction, I heard him, felt him shudder his release, felt him collapse on me, and felt his heat envelop me.
When I woke up, sometime later, I found myself wrapped in his arms, entwined with his legs, snuggled in so completely, I could only sigh happily and drift back off.
In my dream, his mouth was travelling down my body. His lips kissing, licking, making love to my skin as he moved lower and lower, over my ribs, my stomach, into my mound. He was savoring me like a starving man savors a succulent steak dinner. I know I woke up fully when he slid his cock into me, when I erupted on him. I opened my eyes to see him smiling down at me.
“I love waking you with orgasms like that. Your skin is flushed, your eyes still sleepy and filled with dreams of me.” He set a slow rhythm, stroking, sliding, raising me in his arms, holding me, and rocking me higher and higher. My arms wound around his neck, hanging on, letting him possess me, letting him take me. “Look at me.” I did, and was lost in him, in his desire, his need for me. Everything I felt for him burst through, the primitive need, the lust, the love, flooded through me, overtook me.
Wild, passionate, furious, vicious battles were waged on the mattress, the floor. The surrender he’d spoken of hours ago was just as he’d predicted, all that and more. I was completely limp and satisfied when he dragged the blankets from the bed and covered us over.
Daylight was peeking through the closed curtains when my eyes opened again. My view was of the box spring and the tangled sheets dribbling from the mattress. I knew I was grinning. I knew I was foolishly happy. For a half a second, I wished for all of it, him, the dream of us together. As I lay there, cocooned in his arms and the blankets, I thought of the first time I’d laid eyes on him.
Just over six months ago, the restaurant/bar I’d bought in Knoxville was just beginning to turn a profit. People were coming in every night. The food was written up in the papers. The musical acts too. Even my own eccentricities, especially when I’d mess with the dj by synching my ipod to his system and changing the songs.
My bartenders, wait staff were praised on their professionalism, their exuberance, their attentiveness. I asked them for their best when I hired them, and they gave it. They knew at the outset that I’d always be watching, through the camera system and with my own eyes, as my apartment was on the top floor, with my own balcony over the bar and dance floor.
I’d been hanging out with a few of my girlfriends, dancing and drinking when I did my usual check through from the balcony. Tim, at the bar, was hopping, filling orders with his usual flair. Jeannie, at the other end, was doing the same. Lisa, Michael and Freddie were traipsing through the dancers and drinkers, filling and taking orders. Jinx and Charlie were bringing out food orders. I checked out my customers, most were laughing and talking, having a great night.
He was at my end of the bar, nursing a long neck, his battered hat resting lightly on his tawny hair, giving his face just enough shadow to remain anonymous in the crowd. He looked up to my balcony, our eyes met. He smiled after a second. I’d felt such a jolt, of recognition, of destiny, of maybe lust, it took me second to smile back.
I heard the opening lines of Big & Rich’s “Save a Cowboy” and knew that John and/or Kenny had just strolled in, thought about getting some Aleve before the music began thudding the walls. I watched as John strolled up to my handsome cowboy, shaking hands as a greeting. My girlfriend Jet sidled up beside me, followed my gaze down to the bar.
“Mmmmm, fine pickin’s down at the bar tonight girl.” Jet purred, almost drooling over the railing.
“Usually is…if I actually want to go pickin’.”
“Like you wouldn’t pick that tall drink of water…” Jet grinned, knowing my preferences like she knew her computer manuals.
“I might. You know I don’t usually sift through my patrons like a gem hunter.”
“No, you let me do that.” She grinned. “You’re way too “professional” to sample them.”
“You don’t sample…you ensnare and hold hostage.”
“Only until I’m satisfied.” I had to laugh with her at that. She was right; she’d keep a male only until they scratched her itch, and then dumped them. “Is that John?” I heard her voice change to her “prowling” one, knowing she’d do her damnedest to lure poor John into her clutches. “Has that one been here with him before?”
“I haven’t a clue. I don’t think so. Him, I’d remember. I think he’s been here a while.” I drank him in, like the Washington Apples I’d been sipping all night. Tall, well over six foot, built like a linebacker, shoulders that looked like they could hold up the world, tapered chest, solid, well-muscled in a tight t-shirt that was tucked into form fitting jeans. Form fitting enough that I would’ve loved to chew on his thighs to find out if they were as solid as they looked. Jet gave me nudge, waking me before I drooled myself.
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