Here it is- finally!- the first installment of the Vegas series. This entry is quite long and gives you quite a bit of background on the story, but it's my hope that that will make the whole thing a little more interesting as time goes on. I think the entire project will run about five chapters. I'm going to try go put up one chapter a month from here on out- hopefully with some other miscellaneous posts scattered in between. Enjoy, and please, please, let me know what you think.
~J
PS: Sorry for the strange formatting in places- Microsoft Word and Blogger don't always play well together. I hope it's not too distracting..
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It was a big surprise when I stepped into Jean Paul’s living room to find him alone. We had planned this evening the day before: he and his girlfriend, Hannah, also a good friend of mine, were leaving for Vegas for the weekend on Friday. Tonight, Thursday, I was going to join them, along with a few of our other mutual friends for a evening of food, wine, and debauchery to start their weekend off on the right foot. But while I was expecting to see a room full of people, music, and laughter, I walked into his apartment to see only Jean Paul sitting on the couch, some paperwork on the coffee table, and a broken vase on the floor.
Not quite sure what to think, I quietly said, “Hey… sorry I didn’t get a chance to check to see if any messages were left on my voicemail. I’m guessing the plans have changed for tonight?”
“Oh, they’ve changed alright”. Jean Paul picked himself off of the couch, sounding calmer than I would have expected given the state of the room. He walked to the kitchen counter and poured two glasses of wine. He returned to the room, handed me a glass, and said, “I have a proposition for you… any interest in going to Vegas?”
Jean Paul explained that he and Hannah had quite an intense fight that afternoon resulting in Hannah announcing she would be going to her parents’ house instead of Vegas with him as planned, throwing a vase on the floor for dramatic effect, and storming out. I was shocked as they seemed to be a pretty solid couple and he wouldn’t say what the fight was about exactly. I knew he could be pushy and at his worst, domineering- family money and a career of telling people what to do tends to make a person that way. And Hannah, although one of my best friends, could be flighty. The trip the couple had planned was obviously not going to work out, but, as Jean Paul explained, “No cancellation insurance. Everything’s already paid for… someone should get some enjoyment out of it”.
I wasn’t sure. I know a lot of people think of Vegas as a glamorous, glittery playground for grownups, but honestly, for me, I never had any desire to go there. The perceived glamour of Vegas seemed pretentious to me- for those who wouldn’t know sophistication if it slapped them in the face. When I thought of Las Vegas I thought about cigarette burns in upholstery and Elvis fanatics who had visited Graceland the year before, clad in faded, Lycra pants. In a word, I thought Vegas was tacky.
Jean Paul insisted though. Hannah certainly wasn’t going, and he would likely spend the next day with a bottle of gin before resolving to run after Hannah on Saturday. If I wasn’t going to take their place, the money they spent would simply go to waste. Jean Paul also brought up the fact that I hadn’t been out of the country in over a year- a sad state for someone who loves adventure. It was only for the weekend so it wouldn’t affect my work. The one thing I did know is that Jean Paul and Hannah had exquisite taste… they would have spared no expense on accommodations. Eventually I gave in. Jean Paul told me to be at the airport by four the next afternoon; he would take care of everything else in terms of changing the name on the ticket, reservation at the hotel, and so forth.
***
The other passengers on the plane seemed to fit into three categories: honeymooners, seniors, and obnoxious groups of younger people, around my age, who kept reciting, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” as if they were the first to be clever enough to say it out loud. The girls dressed slutty (ironically, not sexy), the boys wore their uniforms of cargo shorts and collared t-shirts, the seniors dressed for comfort, and the honeymooners dressed to match each other. I felt oddly out of place in my jeans, yellow t-shirt, and leather jacket. Thank God I had the row of seats to myself.
I took off the jacket shortly after claiming my bag. As I walked out of the airport, the warm evening air welcomed me, making me feel a little less ambivalent towards this new city. As I approached the queue of taxis to find one to take me to my hotel, I was surprised to see a man holding a sign with my name on it. Jean Paul had thought of everything, apparently. The man showed me to a lovely black car- no smelly taxi for me, apparently- and it was off to the hotel.
The lobby of the hotel was large, empty, and cool. And beautiful. Something out of a designer’s textbook under “minimalism”, but without coming off as inhuman. The man behind the front desk greeted me with a warm and handsome smile. The bellhop offered to take my bags up to my room, but as I had packed light, I was happy to do the work for myself. Before I left to find the elevator, the concierge told me I had a message and handed me an envelope.
In the elevator I tore open the envelope to find an email sent to hotel, for me, from Jean Paul.
“If you’re reading this, it means you didn’t decide to bail last minute on this trip. I’m glad. I want you to take in all that you can while you’re on vacation. As I said yesterday, everything is already booked and paid for, so don’t feel bad about indulging- it would be wasteful not to. Oh. One more thing. As this was supposed to me a romantic weekend for Hannah and me, we booked some of the ‘extras’ on the hotel’s services menu and I had a few surprises in store for her. Don’t be alarmed. Don’t feel pressured to try anything… though I hope you don’t hold back either. It is Vegas after all. –JP”
I wasn’t sure what that last bit meant, though I’d guessed he had some concert tickets or expensive champagne ordered, something to surprise Hannah.
I unlocked the door to find one of the most beautiful hotel rooms I’ve ever entered. Modern, sleek, it’s as if the room had a glow to it. There was everything you could ask for: a luxurious bed with many pillows and a fur throw, a enormous bathroom with a rainwater shower and large Jacuzzi, flat screen television, several windows, a kitchen, a dining room, and a few couches. Luxury indeed. I set my bags by the bed- I planned to take a shower right away and then leave to check out some of the sights.
It was then I noticed a small card on the night table. It read, “Check the kitchen”. I walked over to the kitchen and found a bottle of Shiraz on the counter. “Well, I am in Vegas,” I told myself and decided to pour myself a glass. In the cupboard where the glasses were kept was another note. “Press play on the stereo”.
I poured a generous amount of wine into my glass and walked towards the stereo. I pressed play, and I heard Jean Paul’s voice, “I want you to enjoy this. One last surprise. Look under the bed”. His voice disappeared and was replaced by some of the best downtempo music I’ve ever heard: dreamy with a strong, heavy beat and gentle melody. By this point I was well aware that all of this was done to put Hannah in a receptive mood and I felt a little guilty- both she and Jean Paul were back at home, miserable, and here I was enjoying their romantic getaway. I also felt a little voyeuristic- I never took Jean Paul to be romantic, but he had clearly put a lot of thought into this trip.
I put those thoughts out of my head- obviously it was okay to indulge, I even had a note saying it was okay. Besides, for me, this wasn’t romantic. I was on my own. To hell with it. I walked over to the bed, bent down, and peered to see what the last surprise was. What I found was a large, white, cardboard box- it looked like a dress box. I untied the pink ribbon and opened it. There were several items, all individually wrapped, all with numbers written on them- I imagined there was an order in which things were to be discovered.
The first package was the largest, and looked from the outside like a giant mess of tissue paper. Inside however, was a dress. A beautiful dress costing what I probably earn in three months at my job. Couture. Short, black, with a deep “V” cut down the front and the back. The second package contained very high stiletto shoes- beautiful- and they matched the dress perfectly. Obviously Jean Paul was in the mood to take Hannah out and show her off- he did that from time to time at home too, although would never admit it to me.
Package number three contained perfumed body lotion- I rubbed some over my hands and arms- the smell was intoxicating. I moved my hands up to my face and my neck, rubbing the lotion into my skin. I took off my t-shirt and moved my hands over the tops of my breasts, over my stomach, my skin drinking in the silky lotion. My body grew warm and I knew that I was slightly arouse- between the excitement of travel, the red wine, and this lotion, that was bound to happen. By this point any hesitation I had in indulging in Jean Paul’s efforts had left my mind- I was consumed by curiosity and indulgence- these were my things now.
Package four was filled with gourmet chocolates- I savored one or two before moving on to the next package. I was like a child on Christmas morning- I wanted to keep unwrapping these surprises forever. As I undid the ribbon on this last package- a smaller, white box, I tried to imagine what it would be. There was already wine, music, clothes, body lotion and chocolate… perfume… jewelry perhaps?
It was neither. I was caught a little off guard when I opened this last box to find a vibrator. And quite an intimidating one at that- it was quite large, clearly meant to work like a dildo- but there was also a piece extending out from the base- likely to work the clit. However once the initial shock wore off, I was curious… and tempted. Did I dare? It was brand new and still in its package so I knew no one had touched it before… but it was intended for my friend…. but was Jean Paul going to have it shipped back home if he and Hannah reconciled? Probably not. He did encourage me to indulge on this trip….
I got off of the bed and walked to the windows where I closed the drapes. I turned the music a little louder. I ate chocolate and drank another glass of wine. I stripped down to just my panties- I decided to use more of the lotion. I started by rubbing the lotion into my shoulder… I went over my arms again… then my feet, my calves, my knees, my thighs… up to my ass, my stomach and lower back… and then there I was, virtually naked and playing with my breasts and nipples with a present meant for a friend. If there was a lined to be crossed, I had definitely crossed it by now… and I was very aroused by this point… I reached for the vibrator.
I lied to myself at first, thinking I just wanted to see how it worked. I turned it on, I giggled at the buzzing noise it made (clearly two glasses of wine was enough for now). There was a dial on its handle… I twisted it... depending on which way I turned it, the vibrator would either go faster or slower. My eyes were drawn to the tip of the device- it didn’t just vibrate, but it actually twisted and moved. At that point I knew I had to try it.
I moved on to the bed and laid on my back, my scented skin immediately recognizing the high thread-count of the sheets. I bent my knees. Taking the vibrator in my hands I turned the dial to the lowest setting… I touched it to my left nipple, immediately turning it hard. The sensation sent an almost-electric surge through my body. Nothing close to an orgasm of course, but the instant sense of pleasure certainly pleased my body. As great as it felt, I was greedy. I wanted more.
I ran the shaft of the vibrator across my breasts then dragged it down. Along my stomach, past my belly button, lower, lower… I stopped shy of my clit. I moved the vibrator to my knees- I giggled once again at the immediate shock of the vibrations. I moved the vibrator slowly up my inner thigh… teasing myself, squeezing my breast with my other hand. I was already wet and definitely very horny.
I decided not to tease myself, not to do things gradually- I wanted to get off, and I wanted to get off quickly. I turned off the vibrator for a moment. With my left hand I spread open my pussy lips, edging the head of the vibrator between then, and slowly guided it into my sex. The girth of the device was a little more than I was used to, and although I was wet, my entrance fought against the thick shaft of the vibrator. I arched my back and lifted my ass off of the bed a little bit and continued to push the silicone cock into my pussy. Slowly, it sank deeper and deeper inside of me and I could feel my pussy stretching to accommodate the machine. Soon, I felt I had taken as much of the vibrator inside of me that I could. I twisted the dial and turned on the vibrator.
The first thing I felt was the gentle flutter of the vibrations at my opening- a lovely, soft feeling. I could lay there like that all day and feel aroused. Although I wouldn’t like cum that way. I turned up the dial further… about half way to the full speed. The vibrations grew more intense and I felt the end of the shaft, deep inside of my cunt, beginning to rotate. I was in ecstasy. Every time the head of the shaft brushed against my g-spot I couldn’t help but whimper. I started fucking myself with the vibrator slowly… I didn’t pull the device very far from my pussy when I did, just an inch or so, to move the shaft up and down the walls of my pussy. It felt amazing. I could feel my body grow hot and I noticed beads of sweat appearing between my breasts. I turned the dial to set the vibrator at its maximum speed.
At this point the small “arm” of the vibrator, which up to this point rested gently against my clit, came to life and began to buzz with vibrations along with its larger counterpart- which by now was twisting inside my pussy faster and with more strength. My vision blurred as the sensations- my buzzing clit, my vibrating pussy lips, and the twisting of the silicone cock against my g-spot- took over my body. I held the vibrator in place with my right hand and grabbed a pillow to cover up my mouth and muffle my moans and cries. It wouldn’t be long before I climaxed and I knew I would have a hard time staying quiet. I pushed on the vibrator, urging it a little further into my dripping sex while the vibrations against my clit were like a vice- holding my entire body captive with pleasure. My body began to tense up. First my legs- my feet digging into the bed and my tights holding up my ass as my back arched… then my arms… my breasts were tender and my nipples were standing at attention… my stomach tightened… my pussy clenched onto the vibrator, squeezing it, not allowing it to escape.
My breaths grew shorter and my eyes squinted shut as a tidal wave of pleasure, beginning with my clit, coursed through my body… I screamed into the pillow as pulse after pulse of energy emitted from between my legs. My body shook and I held on for dear life as the orgasm tore through every inch of my body. It was heavenly.
When my orgasm finally subsided I turned of the vibrator and rolled on to my side, my heart still beating very fast. I laid there while I caught my breath and slowly pulled the vibrator from my pussy. It glistened with my juices. After a few minutes of recovery I moved off of the bed and towards the bathroom. Soon I would be dressed and ready to explore what else Vegas had in store for me. I carried the vibrator along with me… in case I got lonely in the shower.
