Las Vegas
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Las Vegas FantasiesChapter 3 free porn video
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. 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. I wanted to call her during the week, but I had capital N No capital C Chance, remember?
My Sundays with Crystal and Tess got longer as the weeks slid by, as the semester was ending and summer approached. 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.
Mckenna
- 29.03.2022
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