The Education of Lisa Ch. 06

Dr. Johnson's fucking thrusts, before so smooth and gliding, were now frantic and choppy. He was tired by now, I'm sure, and the mere concept of anal sex with a strange girl in a Vegas hotel was enough to send him into a frenzy of excitement. In any case, it didn't take long. After just a couple minutes, he pulled out of her and whipped the filthy condom off.

"Roll over," he gasped.

Carrie rolled onto her back and Dr. Johnson straddled her chest, jerking himself to climax. It was the classic porno "cum shot," thick strands of white semen spurting all over her belly and her tits. Carrie leaned forward a little and some of the undeniably impressive flow hit her lips and her chin. Smiling, Carrie used her finger to bring a couple globs into her mouth. Personally, I had never warmed up to the taste of the stuff, although Carrie claimed to love it.

When it was over, Carrie went into the bathroom to clean herself up and I was left alone in the room with Dr. Johnson, who toyed thoughtfully with his dripping, deflated cock.

"So," he said. "Once my batteries get recharged, how about you trade with your friend and she works the camera?"

"No thank you," I said coldly. It was strange, I was as turned on as I ever had been in my life, but the thought of submitting to this guy had zero appeal.

"OK," he said. "How about I work the camera? I like girl on girl scenes, too."

"Sorry," I said. "We have to get back to our own room."

But when Carrie came back into the room, she just curled up naked in bed beside her recent lover. Within minutes, they were both asleep.

Frustrated, I went out onto the suite's balcony. I sat on a chair and looked across the way to another casino. Hundreds of windows. I wondered behind how many of them contained scenes like the one I had just witnessed. Exactly how many people over there were getting fucked at that very moment?

Just this idle musing was enough to make me unzip my jeans. I slid them halfway down my hips and reached one hand inside, past the stiff, wiry pubic hair into the hot, slimy pool of my cunt. I frigged myself mercilessly, tweaking my already throbbing clitoris until it was as hard as a pebble. Then I began to move slow, to make it last.

I'm not sure how much time passed before I became aware of that undeniable feeling of being watched. I thought it was just my imagination at first, but when I chanced a look around, I saw a man on the balcony one story up and to the right. He stepped back when I looked up in his direction. As soon as I turned my head away, though, I could see him out of the corner of my eye, stepping back to the edge to watch me.

I knew I should have been mortified. This guy had been watching me masturbate for God knows how long. But I was so jacked up with arousal at that moment that I wanted him to watch. Moreover, I wanted to give him a good show.

With my left hand, the one that wasn't buried to the knuckle in my vagina, I pulled my shirt off, and my bra too. Then I kicked my jeans off. I spread my legs wide, feeling the warm desert night air on my naked body. This was better, anyway, gave me freer access. I began to use both hands.

I glanced up at the guy on the balcony above me. He was still there, of course. I couldn't see his face, but I could see that he had his cock out, playing with himself over the side of the balcony railing.

Knowing that he was getting off on watching me get off was what did it. I came hard, harder than I ever had from just my own hand. I lay there for a few moments, enjoying the shivering aftershocks of my orgasm. When I looked up again, the man was gone. However, there was a suspicious little puddle a few feet from my chair which told me that he had got off as hard as I had, shooting his sperm out into the air.

I dressed quickly and went back inside. I managed to wake Carrie up and we left Dr. Johnson snoring. Oh, and one more thing. We took the tape. I figured it belonged to us, the star and the director, more than it did to a mere supporting player.

We left town the next day, having I suppose got what we'd come for. And on that long drive, I decided that even though I hadn't touched anyone or been touched, had in fact only watched and been watched, that I would count that entire wild weekend as "Number 6" in my book.

Of course, what I didn't know was that Number 7 was waiting for me when I got home.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .