Gettin' Lucky in Vegas

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Drew doubles up on a weekend in Vegas.
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Not even fourteen hours into the weekend and Drew knew it was a mistake to come to Vegas. He didn't even gamble, really, for Christ's sakes, and it wasn't like he had the extra padding in his checking account these days. The whole place felt like he could look but not touch. Swarovski, Tiffany, Cartier and the rest of the stores that only foreigners seemed to shop in, the High Roller tables cordoned off with velvet ropes, the cocktail waitresses with too high hemlines and too low necklines. He stopped , closed his eyes against the pulsing and blinking lights from the Cosmopolitan's gaming floor and pictured himself sprawled on the sofa, longnecked Lone Star in hand, game on, cares forgotten. Go back to his room, pick up an overpriced six pack, watch the game, shut out the lights and the bleeps and tones of the slots, sleep away the rest of the afternoon and try this all again later. Not a bad plan.

Except the first half would just about be over by the time he made it back to the Mirage. The Cosmopolitan sports book—he could crash there, drink, sit next to some old-timer with a racing sheet and chain smoking. He never made it to the sports book, because before he even found it he came across a bar with about twenty-five television screens including one that looked as big as the side of his townhouse.

He sank into a leather armchair, a girl came over, took his order, plenty of thigh visible under her short black skirt. Not gorgeous, but cute. Vegas was packed to the rafters with chicks like that. They must bus them in from Iowa or something. What did they do when they got off shift? Hooking up with lonely tourists probably wasn't it.

Drew had seen more good looking women in a day in Vegas than he'd seen in three weeks in Kansas City, but there was a problem. Every one of them was either a casino employee or part of a couple. Two hundred thousand each weekend, surely there were some single women in the mix somewhere, right? Twenty minutes to tip off, one beer half gone, he felt better already.

The bar was an open plan in the middle of the gaming floor, slots and table games on all sides, the bar an oasis of sofas and leather chairs, huge flatscreen tv's everywhere. A group in the corner seemed to have a lot invested in the current game, Kansas on the road, down late. A frat boy type in an untucked Ralph Lauren button must have gone to KU the way he was bitching and carrying on, putting on a show of his displeasure. His girlfriend looked like she wished she was somewhere else.

Sometimes he'd see single women at the bar, heads lowered to look at the video poker screens, cigarette in one hand, free drink in another. Last night he tried talking to a few at the Wynn, not so much that he wanted to take anyone back to his room. Just having someone to talk to would be nice enough. Anyway, the video poker women all seemed to have a lot of mileage on them.

The cocktail girl came back, he put another beer on his tab, watched her as she worked the bar, picking up empties, making nice with the frat boy KU fan and his group. Couples drifted in and out, the KU game ended, Longhorns were coming up next, tip off just a few minutes away. Drew hoped the KU fans would be replaced by a bachelorette party. Or at least someone less obnoxious.

Tipoff came, big conference game against Oklahoma. The bar started filling up, but it didn't look like everyone was there for the game. Drew wondered whether he was the only UT fan in the place, he was sporting the burnt orange ball cap he'd had since he graduated more than a decade ago.

Longhorns got off to a good start, freshman shooting guard driving and kicking out for a jumper at the time of the key, good work on the boards by the big guys underneath, took a four point lead into the first commercial break. He was halfway into the second beer now, fuzzy edges of a buzz creeping in, sounds and lights of the casino a pleasant background now.

About one swallow left of his second beer, OU's All-American jammed home his own miss, brought the Sooners within two, the home crowd in frenzy. He heard clapping behind him, a female voice saying, "That's it, that's the way!"

Drew turned around, surprised, the girl on the big sofa behind him, caught his eye when he turned, she said, "How you like that, Austin?"

Drew smiled, taking her in, straight dark hair to her shoulders , maybe his age, small features, slightly crooked nose, and a tight OU tshirt with a vee-neck, not really enough to contain her chest. He followedthe cleavage down, saw a bit of black bra in there somewhere.

"I like it just fine," he said, eyes on her, letting her know he was checking her out.

"Got money on the game?" she asked. Drew was buzzed enough that he kept his eyes on her, didn't feel the need to pretend he's only looking her in the face. Her tits were big enough that on a smaller girl they'd look fake. Had a lot of curve to her, solid build. Drew liked that. Not fat, but a little thick, he remembers one of his friends saying one time about a chick they went to school with, "I like when a girl has some hips on her." This was a girl with some hips on her, Drew hoped she'll walk around some, give him a look at the back side.

"Just pride on the line," he said. He glanced over his shoulder for the waitress, wanting another beer. Saw the game is back on, but didn't turn around, rather talk to this apple-cheeked girl with the OU lettering on her t-shirt stretched tight.

She made a face, teasing. "You gotta have something on the game," she said.

"I'll bet you a beer," he said, then immediately wished he had thought of something better.

"Oh! A beer." But she was smiling, teasing, he felt good now, forgetting about the game, wanting to move to sit next to her on the big sofa.

"Okay, that was lame. I'll just buy you a beer, instead. Deal? In the meantime, I'll think of something better to bet on." He turned around, eyed the waitress, called her over.

"My boyfriend's paying," she said, voice level, not giving anything away.

"Is that right?" It's all he could come up with, just glad he didn't say What the FUCK? which was what he was thinking.

"Don't worry, he's not the jealous type, he likes when I make friends."

"Maybe he should be buying me a beer then, here I am making friends with you, it's like I'm doing him a favor, giving him something he likes."

She smiled again, broader this time, Drew liked this, not sure where it was going, the boyfriend thing really taking things off track.

"Maybe he will, if you're friendly enough." She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse, Marlboro reds.

"I don't want to get too friendly, seeing how you're from Oklahoma and all that."

"Oh too bad, Austin, you have no idea how friendly I can be, you might be missing out on something." She slurred her words a little, Drew seeing that she was pretty far in the bag herself.

"I'm willing to be openminded."

"I like that," she said, grinning, tamping on her cigarette pack and pulling one out. "Come sit next to me."

He sat close enough that their thighs touched. Hers were wrapped snugly in dark jeans. Her name was Kristen, she grew up in Oklahoma City but now lived with her boyfriend in L.A., she was a copy editor, into swing dancing and pottery, blues, recently took up surfing. He gave her his life story, glossed over the divorce, talked about the good stuff, his motorcycle, playing the guitar, the time he walked the Appalachian trail from Georgia to Virginia. He kept looking for this boyfriend, wondering if she was putting him on to get a rise out of him.

Two drinks later, he was pretty lit up, inhibitions a distant memory, his hand on her knee when he made a point, liking the feel of her body so close to him.

"We kinda lost track of the game," he said, seeing that it's in the second half, under five to go, Horns with the ball and up four.

"This has been more fun," Kristen said, leaning into him, the swell of her breasts against his arm. "You never made that bet, you know."

"You trying to lose some money?" He motioned at the score.

"Just trying to make things interesting." She pressed closer against him, Drew wasn't shying away, kept his bicep flush against her curves.

"All right then. This is Vegas. Let's make it interesting. What do you wanna bet?" He was trying to come up with something, just throwing it back on her again, alcohol fuzzing his words.

"You win, I wear your UT hat for the rest of the night. I win...we see if my shirt fits you." She smiled wickedly, making him wonder where this might wind up.

"Can't be any tighter than it is on you," he said, looking pointedly at how her tits strained the fabric.

"Don't look now, we might find out," Kristen said, nodding up to a monitor, where the Sooners just went up by one.

Before he could say something back, she twisted her head around and looked at a guy walking over. "Drew," she said, "meet James. My boyfriend."

James stuck out his hand. Easy handshake, not one of those guys who tried to crush your fingers and warn you off of their girl. Distressed jeans, wide leather belt, hipster T-shirt with a graphic on the front, a few days of stubble. "Pleasure, man."

He sat down next to Drew, kicking his booted feet onto an ottoman.

"Drew and I bet on the game," Kristen told him. "I might have to take my shirt off if the Sooners hold on."

"Some bet. Heads he wins, tails you lose, is that it?" All three of them smiled, Drew seeing James just take all of this in stride, like he was cool with Kristen's taking her shirt off around a strange guy.

"Well he has to wear the shirt then," Kristen said, like that mattered at all to any of them.

James looked over like he was sizing Drew up, seeing if it will fit him. "Guess we'll see soon enough." He pointed to the screen, Sooners up six with under two to go.

Drew started pulling against Texas now, hadn't wanted them to win since she mentioned the thing about the shirt. "Guess so."

"You partying with us tonight, man?" James asked him.

Before Drew can answer, Kristen said, "Oh he is. For sure," and squeezed his leg, Drew noticing his cock getting hard.

Two drinks later they were winding through the casino, passing the baccarat tables, the gaggle of cheering gamblers crowding the craps tables, the rows of mostly empty pai gow and three card poker games. Kristen sent James off to the convenience store for some overpriced booze and more cigarettes, Drew thinking that more alcohol might not be what he needed right now. Kristen hooked her arm inside his, leaned on him a little, he needed to concentrate to keep his balance. Five in the afternoon, he's hammered, heading upstairs to a perfect stranger's room for a little bit of who-knows-what...ah, Vegas, he thought, and lurched into the elevator well, Kristen trailing him.

They had the elevator to themselves. Kristen turned to Drew, lifted her face and kissed him. She tasted like cigarettes, but she tasted good. Started him wondering what the rest of her might taste like. They went at it again as soon as they hit the room. It was twice as big as his room, practically a suite.

"We had a bet," Kristen said, sitting on an oversized chair, after they untangled.

Drew told her there's no way he's fitting in a shirt that size, but before he could say much more about it, she pulled it up and over her head, her tits fully on display, black bra holding them in somehow.

"Wow," he said, as she pulled him to her. "Wow." His shirt came off too and then he was on her, kissing her neck, squeezing her breast, the silk of her bra soft on his palm. Her stiffened nipple pressed into his hand, her breast too full to handily cup. Kristen's breath was hot in his ear when he kissed her neck, he felt her back arching to his touch. Then her hands were suddenly at his waist, unbuttoning him.

Then, when she had him out and her hands were wrapped lightly around his cock, she said she wanted to shower together. He thought that was a good idea and pulled his jeans off the rest of the way. They watched each other strip, Kristen making a little bit of a show of it, peeling her jeans over pale, thick thighs and then dropping a hand to her panties, rubbing herself through the fabric for a moment before taking them off, too. Her pussy was hairless, as if it were freshly shaved or maybe waxed.

When all the clothes were off, she said, "Now about that shower," and then they were under the spray, groping and pressing together. Kristen turned his back to him and he rubbed his cock between her thighs while she turned on some more showerheads. She moaned, flattening her palms against the tile and he pressed his wet body to hers, letting her squeeze her thighs together and pin his cock warmly between them. Drew kissed her shoulders, his hands exploring her body, squeezing her heavy tits from behind, running one hand over her soft, round tummy before dipping his fingertips to her smooth mound.

She told Drew to soap her up, so he opened the shower gel, the two of them sudsy and slippery after he squirted way too much of it. She spun to him and they kissed, her soapy fingers grabbing for his shaft, making him momentarily weak in the knees. He glided a finger between her pussy lips and she moaned, leaning back to brace herself with one hand against the shower wall. He easily slid two fingers into her, pushing them up to the knuckles, her wetness coating him. He thought of what it would be like to fuck her from behind, to push her tits into the shower glass, wondered what it would look like from outside the shower, seeing her like that. Maybe he'll do that, have James watch. That might be James's deal, watching his girl get fucked by strange guys.

She rode his fingers for a little and then pushed him to sit down on the bench, warm water streaming over her back while she knelt on the tile floor. Looking up at him with sparkling eyes, saying, "Let's get you nice and clean," before she lathered his cock up with shower gel and started stroking him off. He moaned, heard the room door open and close, that must be James, back finally with some booze and more smokes. Still in his thick beer haze he sat back against the shower tile, letting Kristen rinse his cock clean. Thinking James probably won't cause a scene when he sees what's going on, pretty sure he's down with sharing.

"Your boyfriend's back," he told her, just before her lips met his cockhead, getting smeared with his precum. She didn't answer, but said, "Mmmm" and swallowed him, making him gasp. She can suck cock, I'll give her that, Drew thought. Girls with a few extra pounds on them always seem to know how to do it just a little bit better. Maybe they put in more effort or something. He gasped again when she took him deep, opened his eyes and saw James in the shower doorway, naked.

James sat next to him on the bench, there was enough room, though their shoulders and thighs had to touch. Kristen moved her mouth from Drew to James and back again, a cock in each hand, jerking them off. Drew hadn't been this close to another guy's hardon since he was a teenager, but it all seemed okay, Kristen really into it, making gagging noises when she sucked deep. James stroked her hair, then caressed her face, holding her chin as she went down on Drew. "Suck that cock, baby," he told his girlfriend as he guided her up and down on Drew's aching dick.

James's voice was calm in his ear, telling him to come in her mouth, that she loved it, that she wanted his come. Drew rocked his hips up off of the tile bench, fucking her mouth, also resting a hand on her head. He sank back against the tile, closing his eyes against the shower spray, letting Kristen jerk and suck him.

He sat up with a start and gasped when he felt a new hand on him. It was James, stroking him off into Kristen's mouth. "Oh shit," he said, but he didn't do anything to stop it, just let it happen. He breathed deeply a few times, heard James again, this time telling him to relax, that everything's okay.

Drew couldn't relax, he sat rigidly upright, knuckles white on the edge of the bench. A panic bloomed in his chest, almost a squeezing where he couldn't breathe. Kristen's eyes were on him while she sucked, he saw her looking at him and kept his calm, giving in to it. It felt fucking good, he admitted to himself. Kristen's hot mouth and tongue, and James's soapy grip were on his shaft. Now that the initial shock was gone, he liked it, his cock a steel rod in James's hand.

"Jesus," he said as he felt a stirring, like a bubble slowly blowing up and waiting to explode out of his cock. "Oh, fuck."

Then he came, his whole body twitching when he blew, releasing into Kristen's mouth. She kept sealed tight around him, getting all of it, James's fingers circling him as he pulsed and spurted. "Fuck!" he said again, like ii was the only word he knew now. A few more spurts and he's finished, Kristen pulling off of him, Drew shuddering when she takes her mouth away. Some of his come drips onto her chin and she wipes it away with the back of her hand, then opening her mouth as if to say, Look at me, I just swallowed all of that.

"Fuck," Drew said, once more, slumping against the tile, aware of how sensitive he was from the shower spray on his still throbbing prick. He needed to regain his breath, was winded like he'd just finished sprinting, he smiled weakly at the two of them, mind clouded by the beer, aware that having a guy jerk him off into a girl's mouth seriously turned him on.

He glanced down, saw James's dick, wondered if he was now expected to return the favor, thought he was drunk enough to do it, hearing a little voice inside his head asking what it might feel like in his mouth, even. He shook the voice away and sat up, aware that James and Kristen were talking and kissing, James's tongue deep in the mouth that just took his come.

Moments later, all three of them toweled off and in the king sized bed, James turned to him and said, "Her turn now, what do you say?" and took a big pull off of the bottle of vodka. Drew nodded, his cock still solid, it never had a chance to get fully soft. Kristen, a cigarette in her lips, groaned and cupped her tits, letting them know she was ready for a fucking. James slid between her open thighs, spread her with his fingers and licked her slippery lips. Kristen stubbed out the cigarette and reached for Drew, grasped his wrist and pulled him over, kissing him. He thought he could faintly taste his come when their tongues met. She whimpered into his mouth from James's licking, groaning loudly when he hit certain spots.

Then, Kristen broke the kiss, said him she needed him in her mouth again, Drew felt his cock responding, hardening, so he popped up to his knees and put it in her face. She was on him again, her mouth hot and ready, enveloping him in liquid warmth, bobbing and slurping while James tongued her cunt. Even with her mouth full of cock she sexily whimpered and moaned, and she writhed on the bed, arching her back to meet James's mouth.

James looked up from between her legs and told her he's going to fuck her right now, ready or not, so she let Drew slide out of her mouth and twisted around to get on her hands and knees, James mounting her from behind. Drew backed up against the headboard so she could suck him again, able to reach forward and hold her tits which had been swaying heavily under her. Each time James thrust she screamed around Drew's cock, her sucking timed with the rhythm of the pounding she was taking from behind.

James rode her for a good few minutes, Kristen taking Drew out of her mouth now and then to stroke him, her breath coming in throaty gasps. He couldn't even think of the last time he got two blowjobs in one day, maybe college. Not even on his honeymoon. He looked up to see James bucking into Kristen from her backside, twisting his face, ready to lose it.

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