Las Vegas Fantasies - 3

Sunday morning. I heard the TV come on at some ungodly early hour. Not at all early for a 6 year old, of course, but I had had an extended period of horny wakefulness in the dark hours of the night, and was not ready for Kermit & Co. I rolled over, facing the couch, put the pillow over my head and went back to sleep.

I was awake enough to start smelling coffee some time later. I woke without moving and tried to take a survey. Was it a dream/fantasy? I didn't think so. Cumming three times in my briefs was not a likely part of the fantasy. Nor was the feeling of embarrassment that came with the memory of closing the bathroom door while Crys was using the large blue-gel vibrator with the bunny-ears clit stimulator.

No, not a dream or a fantasy. In the fantasy, I would have opened the door, strode in confidently and taken her. She would have melted into my arms and sworn off the vibrator forever faced with my skill as a cocksman.

I groaned quietly and rolled over. The ever-alert Tess noticed. "JAMES!" she shouted. The shout was fine, but she launched herself toward the couch, landing with one knee on my midsection and the other squarely on my morning wood. At least she missed the family jewels. Still it was enough to double me over protectively and cause me to sit up quickly - planting Tess on the now-empty space on the couch.

She bounced up onto her feet, facing the kitchen area. "Mawwwmeeee! James is awake."

"I certainly hope so," came Crystal's answer. "Tess, don't jump on people who are laying down, 'K?" The goddess of my unrequited lust. The Woman I was too embarrassed to even talk to at the moment. "Coffee, James?" Amazing how a parent can do that - put on a normal face, I mean - in the presence of a child.

"UhhhyeahsureIguess," I mumbled. My mouth felt like an infantry division had marched thru in their stocking feet. I looked over the couch back toward the kitchen. She was standing there, pouring some coffee in a mug: torn-off denim shorts and a t-shirt. Perfectly normal, non-sexual attire - the shorts were not hyper short, the t-shirt was at least a size too large. Her hair was in a simple pony-tail.

I re-heard the sound of the night before. The buzz of the vibrator, muffled as it slid into her pussy, her shrill cry at the moment of orgasm. My morning wood got even harder. I knew where the bathroom was - not far. But there were two problems: my jeans were on the floor, close but not on; and Tess was waiting for me to do something.

I looked for a distraction. "Tess, look! Mr. Bear has fallen over. I think he needs your help." As I expected, she ran over to the ultra-large teddy bear and nestled back against him.

I took the opportunity to shuffle my feet into my jeans, pulled them up a bit, then stood, prepared to pull them up all the way. Naturally, it did not work out that way. Crys came around the edge of the couch with a coffee mug in hand. It was a nice thought, actually: she was bringing the coffee for me. But the result was that she showed up when my jeans were half-way up my thighs and my hard cock was tenting my briefs to the maximum extent possible.

"Oh sorry!" Crys said and turned away slightly.

"OgodOgod." I blushed.

Tess turned around at the comments from the adults. "Mommy? What is sticking out from James's underwears?" No shame in a 6 year old. No letting the adults get away with a single thing.

I could see Crys blink slowly, exhaling… could almost see the wheels turn in her head, trying to formulate an answer her daughter would understand. "Just one underWEAR, dear, not underWEARS." It was an automatic correction. "That's just James's penis. Sometimes it sticks out like that for men, especially when they have to pee in the morning."

Well that was true enough, as far as it went. I was furiously trying to push it into a comfortable position and zip up my jeans.

"Does it hurt?" Tess just asking a normal follow-up question. Her 6-year old baby blues were riveted to my bulge. That only made it more urgent for me to jam it into my pants and zip up.

"Now Tess, baby," the parental unit was taking control again. "You know we don't talk about other people's bodies - and especially their privates. It's not polite. Now you set the table while James uses the bathroom." She turned to me with a small, embarrassed smile. "I'll just…um… put the coffee on the table."

I was more embarrassed than a human being could possibly tolerate. A geek like me should never be in the situation of having his hardon explained to a 6 year old. By a capital W Woman. Who was the object of his unattainable fantasies. I made a mumbling sound and nearly ran to the bathroom.

"Gee he really had to go, I guess." I heard Tess giggle just as I closed the bathroom door. This was too much! I didn't slam the door behind me, but it was a close thing

I popped my head out the door. "I'm not hungry for breakfast. OK if I take a quick shower?" And I closed the door before there was an answer.

I adjusted the water and stepped in. The shower was full of Her Things: a big yellow loofa thing, a bottle of discount-store shampoo that was a knockoff of the "I'm worth it" brand, a double-blade razor she must have used to shave her legs. Did she shave her pussy, too? BOING. I was instantly hard. Over there was the baby shampoo I'd used to clean the blue gel vibe after I'd dropped it. Thank God it was clean for her last night.

I tried to put her out of my mind. I lathered up and was rinsing my face under the warm spray when the shower curtain opened behind me and I felt her hand on my back. It was warmer than the water and soft. She slid both hands around my torso and began making lazy circles on my chest. I felt her breasts flatten out against my back and her hairless pussy ground against my ass.

She was a little taller than me, and when she bent her head to nibble on my shoulder a long train of her golden mane covered my chest. She kept herself pressed against me with her left hand playing with my nipple and slid her right hand down to my cock.

Do I have to mention that I was already hard? Oh God, was I hard. My fantasy was finally going to come true. Her fingers were feather light as they played on my shaft. Using her short nails, she pulled my foreskin back and scratched oh so lightly on the head.

I was going to cum again - when the hot water ran out. The cold water snapped me back to reality. I nearly slipped and the icy water managed to do something I'd been unable to accomplish in nearly 12 hours: my cock shriveled - it was smaller than normal, of course. With my luck, THIS would be the time Crys would walk in.

Eventually, I decided that there was no hope of hiding in the bathroom all day, so I finished my shower, cleaned up and changed into clean clothes.

Crys hopped up from the couch when I appeared and headed back to the kitchen area. "How do you want your eggs? Breakfast is part of the deal."

We chatted comfortably thru breakfast, with "A Day at the Circus" buzzing away in the background. I insisted that she needed to finish learning about the Six Sigma statistical stuff for her course, and she reluctantly agreed. ANYTHING to avoid discussing the blue dildo and the bunny-ears and how I had interrupted her last night.

Within an hour she was on track to understanding it, and I was feeling more normal. It was time for me to go back to my world. But at least Crys wanted me back next Friday night.

Tuesday afternoon was one of my days for the casino. I picked up my usual $500 at the bank and did the rest of my usual things: took the bus to the strip, bought a stack of $20 chips, found the blackjack table where April and Joe alternated dealing. There was, as usual, nobody else playing at my table. April smiled as I sat down. She was maybe 30, and good looking, but there was a tired, hardness in her eyes.

I ordered a Diet Coke and she started to deal. About half an hour later I was a tiny bit ahead, and having difficulty in concentrating. Every time I looked around the casino and saw blonde hair, I was back in the apartment, leaning against the wall, listening to Her Orgasm.

The count of the deck was coming more and more to my favor - meaning that fewer face-cards had shown up. I got dealt a queen and a ten - 20. I motioned for no more cards, and April played the house cards: a four showing. She flipped her down card, a 9. 13 so far, and she took another card: a jack and the house busted.

She paid me off and said in a low voice, "You OK, Jimmy? I've been dealin' to you for over a year, and that's the first time I ever seen you make the wrong play."

I stared at the cards. Of course, she was right. With a such a bad card for the dealer showing, I should have split my 10s and doubled my bet. "Guess I never had girl problems before," I said. That's me: Mr. Man-of-the-World. Was there a category of suave that included cumming in your shorts?

I picked up my chips and cashed out.

The next few weeks began to follow a pattern: I was beginning to feel domesticated, and I had something to look forward to. Crys would pick me up on Fridays and Saturday nights, the three of us would have dinner and then she'd go to work. I wanted to follow her to the COEDS club, but of course, the only way I could do that would be to leave Tess alone, so I never did.

My Sundays with Crystal and Tess got longer as the weeks slid by. Crys and I studied together - well we were taking different classes, but we studied at the same table. I saw that as a big improvement for me. It even got so I didn't spring an instant boner simply from looking at her. I picked up a slow-cooker at the store one week, and brought it over. From then on, I began to bring food for Sunday dinner. After the first beef stew I made, I got a small peck on the cheek. BOING! I smelled her perfume for the rest of that week.

She still made it very clear that, although we were getting to be friends, there was No Chance for romance. She'd never been married to Tess's father, apparently, and their two years together ended within a day of her discovery that she was pregnant. She hadn't seen him since, and never wanted to. There was no other family she ever talked about.

Like I said: I was beginning to feel domesticated. And I liked it. Except for the No Chance part, anyway. By the end of the semester, I was faced with going home for the summer, and I flat didn't want to do that. What I wanted was to move into Crystal's bedroom and be her slave… or anything else she would let me be. But there was that capital N No capital C Chance thing.

I found a way to concentrate at the tables enough to keep winning. Blackjack is one of the few casino games where the player has a chance. If you do it right, you can minimize the house advantage on each hand, and if you're not overly obvious about it, you can arrange to play for bigger stakes when the odds in the deck are in the player's favor. I knew how to do it right, and I guess I was not too obvious: I was a consistent slow winner. The casino did not throw me out, like they sometimes did with professional winners.

Crys would come home in the dark hours, and we'd share an orgasm. She in her bed with the soft buzz of the blue gel vibrator, me on the other side of her wall, pumping my cum into paper towels from the kitchen. I never went into the bathroom again at night.

I came to really like Tess as much as Crys. Well, ALMOST. Except for the goddess and sex fantasy part. And the early morning Sesame Street.

I was getting more and more desperate to see her in some sort of "adult" environment - Crys I mean. I was more and more in lust for her. It never occurred to me that she might not want to see me there. My thinking was uni-directional, and the direction was being dictated by the small head.

Finally, I hatched a plan. I told Crys that some friends were throwing a bachelor party for one of the frat guys and I wanted to attend - but I could make arrangements for a replacement sitter. June had agreed to cover for me with Tess, but she had no idea what the rest of my plan was. Crys agreed after I vouched for the replacement.

I rented an Air Force uniform for the night and beat her down to the club. COEDS, of course, checked my fake military ID at the door, but it held up. I had stocked my pockets with fives and had some bigger bills in other pockets. I had no idea what to expect, but somehow I figured cash would help in marginal situations.

The place was pretty nice. I guess I expected a sleazy dive or something from a movie. There were three runways extending out into the table areas. Just inside the door were pictures of the performers. Crys had told me she worked the tables, so I guess I figured she was a waitress or something. But there she was in 11x14 color glossy photo-reality. She was wearing a see-thru (what else?) harem costume with little dangly pasties covering her nipples. "The Crystal Bombshell"

I ordered a beer and found a spot near the main runway. Lights dimmed and the next act wriggled onstage. She did a complicated fan dance, not showing much. Fifi was dark-haired and had beautiful, very large breasts. They bounced, and swayed and rotated with unbelievable precision. I was impressed and held out a bill along with the other guys. She gyrated along the edge of the runway and we were allowed to slide our offerings under her garter. While I was distracted by the fans and the glittering rhinestones on Fifi's g-string, one of the table girls sat down next to me.

She asked if I wanted some company and maybe if I bought her a drink, she could stay. I was afraid to say no, for fear they'd toss my ass out. For "merely" $20, I got a glass of watered champagne and my companion got a glass of champagne-colored ginger ale - or that was my guess anyway.

The next act was two girls, a shorter black girl with muscular legs and a tall willowy red-head with pale white skin.. They came out and stripped off fancy evening gowns pretty quickly, then they slithered up and down the poles that were onstage. I was sure that those poles glistened just a little more brightly after being pussy-polished. The two girls began writing together on the stage, and they wound up in a hot 69.

I doubted they were actually licking each other, but it certainly looked real. And when first the redhead and then the dark girl erupted in moaning, screaming orgasms, the crowd applauded loudly. They finished up by crawling around the runways, wiggling their thonged asses in our faces. I joined the group and tucked a bill into the waistband of each. They certainly smelled like worked-up pussies. Well… Since I'd never actually smelled one of those, I guess the most I could say is they smelled like I thought excited pussies would smell.

Being a fuckless-virgin really sucked.

The girl at my table put her hand on my thigh and asked if I wanted a special private table with her. Crystal got introduced, and it was all I could do to tell my table companion "No thanks. Maybe next time." The girl smiled, patted my thigh and left for greener pastures.

Crys wore the harem costume, as advertised. She began to work the crowd at the edges of the runway almost at once. She'd let the guys rub the bills on "safe" parts of her anatomy - a leg or a shoulder - and then tuck the bill into an arm or leg garter. Once in a while she'd let one of the guys grab a part of the costume and rip it off. There seemed to always be a bouncer nearby to recover the costume… and presumably to make sure there was no problem with guys grabbing more than the planned item.

I made a grab for a pant-leg but missed. Crys never noticed me: it was dark and she was working her dance. I tapped the bouncer nearby and asked him what it would take to get a private dance from The Crystal Bombshell.

He looked lethal. In the darkness, he looked black-latino, and was trim and muscular. I was sure he would be able to take me apart with no problem at all. He smiled and shook his head sadly. "She's a big star, pal. It'd take a lot."

I palmed a pair of twenties and folded them into his hand. "I'll make it worth her while. Yours too." I didn't give a fuck WHAT it would take: I had budgeted the whole thousand that Crys had paid me over the last 5 weeks for this night. I felt like Diamond Jim Brady.

He looked at the cash in his hand. "This'd get you all you want from one of the table girls. They're real friendly."

I smiled and shook my head. "Crystal or nobody. She's special."

He nodded, but said, "OK soldier, I will mention it to the lady. You understand the rules in the private rooms, right? She does what she does, but you don't touch her."

I agreed.

On stage, Crystal was finishing up, and the lucky guys on the right side of the runway were tucking bills into her g-string. This was the most of her flesh I had ever seen. Maybe it was the lighting or her makeup, but she looked a pale golden color all over.

A micro-second before the stage was blacked out, she ripped off her g-string. Maybe there was a flash of golden-pink flesh between her legs but none of the audience really got to see anything.

Next on stage were a girl in chains and a dog collar, and a dominatrix wearing an impossibly large glow-in-the-dark strapon dildo. But I wasn't even watching. My eyes were glued to the door where the bouncer had disappeared. In five minutes, he was back. He walked to my table and motioned me to follow.

Around the other side of the stage was a door I'd never have noticed. His hand on the door handle, he paused. "The club gets $50 for the room. You can tip the lady whatever you like." He turned to look at me with hard eyes. "Remember the rules. I'll be behind the mirror. She does not get touched."

Actually I was glad This meant that at least Crys was safe even though she might be doing whatever with whoever in the private room.

I pulled a fifty from a pocket and he opened the door. He led me to a smallish room with a chair and an uncomfortable-looking couch. Neither was dirty but they did look worn.

He left and a minute later Crystal came in, wearing a school-girl blouse and plaid skirt. "Hope you don't mind, I have a different costume for my next performance." She hadn't looked at me yet. "I was told you wanted a little private time, and …" She froze when she recognized me.

She took a step toward me - to make sure I guess - then turned toward the door.

"Wait… I…" I had no idea what I was going to say, but she wasn't leaving. She went to a switch near the door and flipped it.

"It's OK, Sealy. I know this soldier," she said toward the mirror. "You can go look after the other gals."

THANK GOD!

She turned down the lights and walked over in front of me. My glasses steamed up. Literally.

"So," she purred in a sultry voice, "is this the bachelor party?" The heavy beat of the music in the club's main room vibrated thru the floor and she slowly slid her hips back and forth in time.

"I… uh…" I was stalling for time, trying to find out if this was real or one of my "pseudoreal fantasies".

"You realize that this won't change ANYTHING outside of this place," she said. No chance it was a fantasy now. In the fantasy, she'd be saying "YES! Finally!" and be all over me. "Back home, I mean. But if you want to blow some money on a fantasy, I'm not going to turn you away." She reached out and removed my glasses, putting then on the side table. Just more evidence it wasn't a fantasy: my glasses never steamed up in the fantasies.

She straddled my knees and began to play with the scarf threaded around the collar of her blouse. It was all I could do to swallow. Finally I brought my eyes up to meet her gaze. SHIT SHIT SHIT!!! She was pissed off. "Listen Crys, I .. uh…"

She interrupted. "You want a lap dance, soldier? You have cash? I don't take credit cards." She ~sounded~ sultry, but the ice in her eyes made my cock shrivel up. I had completely fucked up whatever good relationship I had with her.

But if it was gonna be fucked up, I might as well get what I came for. I fumbled my left hand into a pocket, coming out with a fistful of $20s. She took a look and gave me a hard, professional smile. Not the megawatt smile that turned her into a Goddess. I didn't like this smile at all.

"I like the way you think, Soldier." She took the pile of money and put it on the table nearby. Then she slid her hands down between my thighs, about halfway between my knees and crotch. The heat from her hands burned through my pants. She flexed her fingers, scraping her nails up the inside of my legs. I was supposed to be hard by now: My Dream was coming true. Instead I felt like crying.

She shifted and sat on my knees. With the fake-sultriness of the professional stripper, she began to unbutton her blouse. She slid it off her arms and draped it across the top of my head. Underneath, her beautiful, tan breasts were barely covered by a shimmer of silver cloth - actually they weren't covered at all. The silver pasties hid her nipples. Her breasts were self-supporting, and were now only inches away from me.

She placed one hand on each of mine, moving them to my thighs. "No moving, now soldier…" She smiled again. I felt like shit.

She slid up until her thighs were touching the back of each of my hands, under her plaid school-girl skirt. She slithered forward again, and now her thighs had pinned my hands against my own legs.

She leaned forward until her breasts were nearly touching my cheeks. "How do I smell, Soldier?"

"Listen Crys… I'm sor-"

But she was not interested in letting me finish my apology. Her hand wrapped around my neck and fisted the hair on the back of my head. She moved my head against her torso, slither herself left and right. "Which one smells better, Soldier? Would you like to have a little taste? You can lick a little bit, Soldier."

I couldn't talk with my lips against her chest. I knew I was completely fucked at this point… and not in a good way either. So I figured I try to make this one last interaction be a fantasy to live with forever. I opened my mouth a bit and snaked out my tongue. And licked at the side of her left breast.

She tasted a little salty - sweat, probably, I guessed. And she smelled like that soft perfume she always wore. I made a low moaning sound. She pulled my head away from her and reached over to the pile of cash on the table. And then she stuck Andrew Jackson's face on the side of her breast where I had licked. It stuck.

"You like the way Crystal tastes, Soldier? Want some more?" I leaned forward toward her other breast and began to lick with more enthusiasm. I felt her shiver and heard her moan this time. In a few moments, she pulled my face away again and stuck another twenty on the wet spot on her tanned, soft, warm breath.

She was going to cover herself with my money. I got the message, but FUCKIT! I gave up on "outside this room" and went to lean forward and lick again. Four more times, I slurped against the tender, oh-so-desirable fantasy flesh of her breasts, and four more twenties wound up stuck to her skin.

She once more pulled me away, and leaned back. "You've been a very good soldier-boy. And you're making Crystal very hot." Her hard eyes said "NOT" but there was nothing I could do about it.

She slid further forward on my lap, her crotch rubbing against mine, my hands still trapped under her straddling thighs. Crystal removed the money spit-glued to her body and put it on the table - in a different pile than my money. On the way back, her hand picked up another $20 bill. She quickly folded it and ripped a hole in the middle of the money. With a practiced gesture, she removed the silvery pastie from her left nipple and replaced it with the money - her nipple poked thru the hole.

With her fist still in my hair, she moved my mouth to that nipple. "C'mon, James. You know you want to. Suck it." I did. My lips pulled at her nipple. It was hard-soft. Warm. My tongue lashed at it. It hardened in my mouth and I sucked. Closed my teeth on it. Pulled it away from her body. Tried to get more of her breast into my mouth but found only US currency instead, so I tried to suck her breast thru that tiny hole in the paper money.

With a lurch, she jerked my head away from her. Her mouth was slightly open, and the professional look was gone when I looked at her. Her pink tongue slipped out and darted around her glossy lips. I had turned her on. I knew it was true. Me. Geek-boy. She ripped off the other pastie and put another twenty on that nipple too. And then she fed me again with that nipple.

I had ~some~ hope at least. I sucked and nibbled and licked and tried to put EVERYTHING I had into my mouth-work on her hard little nipple. It felt like my mouth was on the tip of her breast for hours…probably it was more like 2 minutes.

Her hand relaxed and curled softly around the back of my neck, and she continued to grind her crotch against the front of my pants. I know she could feel how hard I was. Keeping my hands still beneath her thighs was torture, but I concentrated on trying to make amends with my oral adoration of her pulsing, hot nipple.

She pulled me away again, all too soon, and then shuffled her lower body away, too. She extracted my right hand from under her thigh and held it for a moment. "Working here makes me horny, you know," this time her voice was soft, almost a whisper. I didn't think it was a 'working' voice any more. She turned my hand over and then began to fold my fingers into my palm, slowly, one at a time.

"I know you know I pleasure myself when I get home."

"Listen Crys, I…." I tried to interrupt. To explain. To apologize.

"Shut up, James. I know you know." She wasn't going to let me talk. "I get worked up. I'm only 24. I get horny. I need it." She wasn't apologizing, just explaining while she slowly moved my fingers into a fist.

And then she jumped forward, pushing my fist against her pussy under that plaid school-girl skirt. She was wearing some sort of g-string but the tiny strip of material had disappeared between the folds of her labia. She was soaking wet.

She was sitting on my virgin-geek lap, and her pussy was wet. I had never touched a girls tits before, and after a little sucking, she was wet. I knew she couldn't be really pissed at me. Because she was wet.

Her words didn't even register. That she got turned on every time she worked did not enter my brain. That she might have been here with 2 guys a night every time she worked meant nothing. She was on MY lap, she was turned on. My body jerked and I started to cum. But I barely noticed.

My fist was against her wet pussy lips, and she was humping it. Back and forth. Doing a little fuck-dance. Her hands were like iron cuffs around my wrist, holding it solid, immovable. She pulled my hand strongly UP against her sex. I looked at her face: her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, her head back.

She started to move faster against my fist. My other hand was trapped under her thigh. I leaned forward and captured a nipple between my lips and began to suck again. A shiver went thru her body and I didn't even notice the load of cum in my pants. She started a low moan… just like the sound I heard thru the bedroom wall when she used the dildo with the rabbit-ear-clit-tickler.

I struggled against the weight of her body, against the pressure of her sex on my fist. I managed to get one finger up inside her and lifted my thumb. I worked it beneath the material of the g-string and immediately found her little clit. I pressed on it and pressed on the forward wall of her pussy with my inside finger.

She jerked spasmodically and clutched at my arm. Her nails dug into my skin and she flopped forward against me. My mouth continued to suck at her nipple and her pussy clutched at my finger. Her face wound up on my shoulder, mouth against the side of my neck. I heard that high pitched "EEEEEEEEEEE" that seemed to be her verbal release.

She pulsed and flowed and melted against me. My hand was soaked from the girl-juice. Woman juice. Divine Goddess juice. I knew it was not finished. I knew I had a chance. Capital C Chance.

It took several minutes before her breathing returned to normal. Slowly Crystal unclamped her hands from my arm. She slid away and moved my hand from her sex. She grabbed the hair on the back of my head again with one hand.

When she jerked my head from her chest again, I could see her other hand scooping up the cash on the table. When I looked at her face, her gaze was averted. When she spoke, her voice was low, but this time there was no heat in her whisper, only harshness.

"Why the fuck didn't you just call me in the middle of the week.  For dinner or something. But no! You had to come here. You see me as just a piece of meat don't you."  I was crushed at the bitterness in her voice.  "And I cant trust you anymore." She stood up, still holding my hair. "Don't come back. If I see you again, I'll call the police. Or my friends who will fuck you over - bad. Don't come back."

I wanted to explain that I didn't call on a weeknight because she had said there was capital N No capital C Chance. I wanted to fall on my knees and beg. What about what we had just done? It meant nothing? I knew she didn't do this with everybody, because she came home horny. This had to be something special. Didn't it?

But I didn't say anything. I just stood there.

She walked out the door and it ~snicked~ closed behind her.

Send me some feedback, otherwise I'll never get any better.