Getaway Ch 50: The Strip

Charlaine Harris owns almost everything. I own the rest.

SeriousCrush, you know I adore you! You should also know how much my readers adore you too. Not one of them complains about my nonsensical wording and sentences, because they don’t make it past you. Thank you for catching my mistakes and making me look much more clever than I really am! I love you forever.

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The Strip

“Oh yes, right here,” I said as I kissed the head of his dick, smiling as his body jumped at the contact. I licked and kissed my way up and down his length, teasing him occasionally by swirling my tongue around the sensitive head. Eric pushed the desk away from his chair, making room for my body. I raked my fingernails down the skin of his hips, and as his body jerked, I positioned myself and sucked his entire cock into my mouth. He moaned and started pumping into my mouth, losing his ability to sit idly in the chair. He growled when he came, and I had to work fast to keep up with him. Eric collapsed into the chair and smiled at me.

“Good thing you didn’t finish while you were chatting with Alex, there’s no way you could have convinced him that the meeting was the only thing on your mind!” I laughed.

“He knew I was lying. Even when you started, my mind slipped sideways. It’s your mouth, it’s just so hot and delicious,” he answered, staring intently at my mouth.

“Anything else hot and delicious you want to claim tonight?” I asked as I stood up, unbuttoning my jeans. I pushed them down and stepped out of them, resting my fingers on the edge of my panties. Eric nodded his head and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of my arousal. I pulled my panties off and threw them into his lap. He picked them up and inhaled again. My eyes widened as I watched his dick respond and jump to attention immediately. I turned around and braced myself on the table, “Taktu mig þá, kynþokkafulla skepnan mín,” (Then take me, my sexy beast.) I said looking over my shoulder. He didn’t need to be told twice. He was behind me in seconds, caressing my ass, rubbing the head of his dick against my wet folds. He dipped inside me a mere inch, and then pulled out. I grunted in frustration, and then sighed as his thumb wormed its way inside my pussy. “So hot and wet,” he mumbled as he continued to pump into me. He twisted his thumb and cupped my sex with his fingers, stroking my clit with the perfect amount of pressure, bringing me to an orgasm faster than you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle.’ Moisture flooded his hand, which he used to coat my ass with. I tensed as his thumb moved from my pussy up an inch and began pushing against my tight opening. “Relax, Lover,” he cooed in a soothing voice. I took a deep breath and relaxed in perfect time with his thumb making its way inside me. Just as I adjusted, he pushed his dick inside my pussy, filling my body more than ever before. I moaned and let my head collapsed against the desk, enjoying the feel of the cool wood against my forehead as I inhaled. He moved his hips slowly, thrusting his cock in and out, making contact with all kinds of new places. Once I relaxed fully, Eric moved his thumb, mimicking the movements of his dick, double thrusting into me. Every thrust teased a moan out of my mouth, fogging the table so close to my lips, deafening my ears with my cries of pleasure. The pressure building deep inside my body started to spiral through me, I gripped onto the back of the desk and pushed my hips back to meet the next thrust, which was just enough to send me screaming. I could feel every inch of his dick inside me, tighter with each orgasmic contraction, and when his cock swelled just before he came, the increased friction amplified my orgasm, doubling my shaking and quivering. I was gasping for breath and felt my legs liquefy under me.

Eric bent over me and whispered, “That was doubly hot and delicious.” He kissed the edge of my ear, and pulled out of me.

“Double your pleasure. Double your fun,” I added with a laugh. Even though the slogan was applicable here, I don’t think this was what that ad campaign was referring to. The ideas of what those commercials would be like flooded my brain and sent me laughing harder and harder. My body bounced on the table as my diaphragm moved. I finally regained control of myself and stood up. Eric was looking at me, waiting for an explanation. “Sorry, it’s a commercial for gum. Double your pleasure, double your fun, with double mint, double mint, double mint gum!” I finished with a flourish, knowing my singing voice was terrible. Luckily Eric had never heard the original, and I was half naked, so he didn’t seem to mind.

“So…..” I drawled, waiting for inspiration to hit me, now that we had broken in our hotel suite. “Wanna see the sights?”

Eric nodded, “Yes, there is a lot to see here. You will probably have to put your jeans back on though, even sin city doesn’t abide by nudity in public,” he added with a pout.

I smiled at him and pulled my clothes back on, smoothed my shirt and hair and grabbed my brown platform booties and a light coat for our walk.

As we walked away from the Bellagio, the air around us warmed up. The mist from the fountain made the air temperature drop a few degrees. Even though it was early February, it was easily in the 50s outside, which after Salt Lake City, felt balmy. I didn’t bother to zip up my coat, and enjoyed the occasional breeze that sent my zipper flying behind me.

The city was alive around us, noise flooding the sidewalk from the casinos that lined The Strip. Tourists were everywhere, rushing from one place to the next, trying to get it all in. I had never seen so many people in public this late at night. I imagined that night was the busiest time in Las Vegas and suddenly understood why it was considered a heavenly city for vampires. Felipe de Castro certainly seemed to be the most powerful vampire in the country as long as he controlled this city.

Shifty eyed men stood on the corners of Las Vegas Boulevard, palming stacks of brochures for ‘Live Nude Dancers!’ One of the men stared at me openly, while he put the paper in my hand, letting his fingers linger a little too long against my palm. I grabbed his wrist with my other hand and twisted until he got the hint and backed off. I had never been so overwhelmed with pushy people, and clearly neither had any of the other tourists walking on The Strip with us. The sidewalk immediately surrounding each corner was littered with pictures of nude women, adorned with strategically placed glittery stars, discarded soon after the papers were pushed onto unsuspecting tourists.

We reached Fremont Street, and the section of road between Las Vegas Boulevard and Main Street was closed to car traffic. I put my hands on my hips and looked around. “Do all major cities in the west close a section of downtown streets?” First, Salt Lake City’s Temple Square and now this. Before Eric could answer me, music blared from speakers surrounding a huge canopy, and the canopy lit up. Everyone walking by froze and turned their faces up. It was the biggest LED display I had ever seen, advertising in huge letters the ‘Fremont Street Experience.’ The light show stretched the length of the block, and was a stunning array of images. It was a combination of jets flying, birds migrating, and skydivers soaring through the air, all choreographed to the music. Near the end of the display, a NASA shuttle counted down, blasting off into space, filling the canopy from one end of the block to the other with a streak of fiery clouds, replaced with an amazing view of Earth from the shuttle’s window. The ‘Fremont Street Experience’ flashed again and the screen went black, the music dying out just as suddenly as it had started. Everyone snapped out of their trance and bustled to the next casino to try their hand at a new slot machine.

Every casino advertised ‘The best buffet in Vegas!’ all for less than ten dollars. I realized that I was quite hungry and asked if we could stop in and get something to eat. Eric lifted an eyebrow, and asked “Here?” Skepticism was evident in his voice as he read the sign outside, making their claim for the best food in town. I shrugged. How bad could it be? We walked through the casino and I immediately felt my pulse racing and my ears ringing with the sound of slot machines paying out and various people showing their obvious delight or disgust with the evening. People were noisy here, far more than I was accustomed to, and even as we made our way into the restaurant, the noise followed us. The air was filled with the smell of cigarettes, booze, and stale food. Eric sat down at a booth, looking a little more pale than usual, as I made my way through the buffet line, attempting to find food that would not make me sick. I made my way past the tables of meat under red heat lamps, dried out from an evening of display. I laughed at the table of thin dry pizza and bright orange macaroni and cheese. I hoped that this wasn’t the best buffet in Vegas, and giggled to myself as I thought how this array of food would have been very tempting when I was a teenager. Nevertheless, I loaded my plate with fruit, biscuits, pasta salad and broccoli. It wasn’t too bad, and certainly helped quiet the growling in my stomach. I was pleased to find a loaded soft serve ice cream bar, with sprinkles, cookies, and chopped peanuts as toppings, all displayed in giant tubes. I came back to the booth with my sundae bowl, overflowing with vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles. Eric looked at my bowl, then at my face. I smiled at him and ate every last bite. The ice cream was worth the terrible food, and when we left I was happy to have eaten here.

We walked around the city for hours. Well, it certainly felt like hours. There was no way of telling, since I could not spot a single clock in any casino or store we visited. When Eric turned to head back to the Bellagio, I was right by his side. Dawn was approaching.

I collapsed onto the bed, covering my eyes with my arm. “That was really….something!” I said quietly, enjoying the peace of our room. Eric pulled my boots off, and then worked at removing my jeans. “I’m not sure if Vegas is my kind of city,” I said as I looked into his eyes. “I guess I’m not a very good tourist.”

Eric smiled back at me, “I’m not either. Our second night out will be much better. I’ll show you how the locals do it.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and then turned to shut the light-tight blinds over the windows for the day. I pulled my shirt off and tossed it over to the chocolate couch. Eric stripped quickly and joined me in bed, both of us finding sleep easily, wrapped in each other’s arms.

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Can you believe you’ve been reading this for 50 chapters now? My original story-board for this story was about 12 chapters long. So much for a girl with a plan!

On to Getaway Ch 51: The Surprise

4 thoughts on “Getaway Ch 50: The Strip

  1. theladykt says:

    Yup there are def better places to eat off the beaten path.

    Like

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