A Vegas Story Ch. 03

After sleeping late, some exploring, lunch, pool time, and a nap, they were ready to explore the casino. They walked together, but as they made their second pass around the outskirts on the casino, he noticed her noticing a tall, shapely man dressed in a well-fitting jacket and pants.

She nudged him. "That's James Blake!"

"Who?" he teased?

"You know exactly who. James Blake. Tennis Player. I. Love. Him."

"He is somewhat attractive," he scoffed.

"You can say that again," she said dreamily.

"Maybe we'll see him later tonight?" he pondered.

"A girl can dream..." she retorted, biting her lip slightly.

After some casino exploring, a little gambling, and some dinner, they were planning to "hit the clubs". Yes, they were 10 years older than the average guest, but some random promoter had found them earlier in the day and offered them free passes.

They got ready, had some drinks to loosen up, and left the hotel. She was a knockout. Black dress, black heels, black tights (well, not really tights. Thigh highs), and he could only imagine (and we was imagining), black bra and black thong panties.

They got to the club, skipped to the front of the line, and there he was again. James freaking Blake.

She nudged him in the ribs.

"Of course," he said. "Go for it."

"I promise I'll text you updates."

"Required," he replied.

He spent the rest of his evening admiring things from afar. And things were progressing.

***

"You look very familiar to me. You're not a tennis player are you?"

"Yes, I am. My name is James Blake."

"Yes! I knew I recognized you. I've been a fan for years. What brings you to Vegas?"

"Oh, the usual. Tennis." They laughed.

"No, really. I just played a promotional tournament yesterday and I'm just staying in town tonight to blow off a little steam. You know, hang out, meet people. Like you, for example," James said, but then noticed her wedding ring. "Is your husband around?"

"He's around. But tell me more about your tournament," she shouted over the ever-increasing music.

"I would love to, but it's so loud in here," James yelled. "Seen your husband yet?"

She took his hand, pulled him close enough to touch her, and whispered in his ear. "My husband is around, but he knows I wanted to meet you. Alone. I think you know what I am saying," she added as she moved her hand down to rub his crotch.

"Ah. I see. In that case, yes, YES I would like to tell you more about the tournament. And my 'tell you about my tournament', I mean fuck you silly. I think you know what I am saying."

She laughed, felt herself get extremely wet through her panties, and said. "This way."

They walked together to the end of a long hallway, turned the corner, and found a secluded dead-end.

"There's only one issue," she said. "I don't keep secrets from my husband. He'll want to know what's going on."

"No problem,' James replied. "Give me your phone. I'll text him."

She handed over her phone. James texted to him: "This is James Blake. Your wife is incredibly attractive. Like making me hard just thinking about her. I'm going to fuck her right here in the club. I hope you don't mind. I'm going to fuck her until she's screaming, and then I'm going to fuck her some more."

James showed her the text. She exhaled, took his hand, and put it under her dress to feel her wetness through the panties. "Yes, please," she said.

The rest was a blur. They stopped to take some pictures and short video clips, sending them to him. She sucked his huge cock until he came. James lapped at her wet pussy until she was screaming, then entered her and fucked her standing until she came again. James turned her around and fucked her facing the wall until they both collapsed together.

"All done," the text came to him. "I'll be up in a few."