Message-ID: <17412eli$9811192057@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Minette McKay" Subject: Viva Las Vegas, part 2 (MF, cons, rom?) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: Peter and Annette wasted no time in retrieving their luggage from the truck and hurrying to the hotel lobby to check in. They walked closely, always touching or almost so. The tacky majesty of the Excalibur, under other circumstances, would have overwhelmed Annette's senses, but now, all her attention was on Peter, the electricity sparking between them, and the heat within her loins. The check-in line was enormously long. Peter grew dismayed at the prospect of waiting. Annette shifted her weight from hip to hip as they stood in line. When she noticed Peter's attention focus on her slight undulations, she deliberately leaned her backside against his front, relishing the warm pressure from his still-captive cock. "Thank goodness I've found a man who likes women with hips," Annette thought. The Mae West voice in her head corrected her: "Goodness has nothing to do with it." Finally, checked-in, they quickstepped through the crowds and wove their way to the elevator doors. Amazingly, they scored an elevator all to themselves. They simultaneously dropped their luggage to the floor. Instantly, their arms encircled one another and they kissed each other hungrily. Peter's wily fingers slid straight into Annette's dripping pussy, his thumb massaging her clit. "I will never wear underwear again," Annette resolved. Then, "bing," the elevator doors opened. They grabbed luggage and hastened down the long hallway. Peter opened the door to their room after what seemed like an eternity. In they went, and plop, plop, plop -- down went the various pieces of luggage onto the floor, making a trail from the door to the big bed. It would be several hours before either of them noticed the pseudo-Arthurian decor of the room. Annette stood at the foot of the bed, hands on hips, looking only at Peter, almost smirking with joy. "So, whattya wanna do?" Peter answered with a kiss. They kissed standing up, melting together, until Peter leaned Annette back onto the bed, pushing her skirt up. He knelt on the floor and ran his tongue over her pussy. Sliding a finger inside her, Peter tried to hold his writhing lover still enough to tongue her clit with any sort of consistency. Annette squirmed, sighed, moaned, inwardly thanking her lucky stars that she had stumbled upon such a man, with such a gift! Peter loved to eat pussy and, perhaps in consequence, was very very good at it. He paid attention to details, noticed which part of his tongue on which part of her clit seemed to make her jump slightly, repeated it at exactly the right intervals. His fingers never stopped, either, teasing her inner lips, stroking her warm cunt walls, stretching her in all the right ways. As Annette wriggled in ecstasy, Peter lapped up her dripping juices. Hers was an especially sweet taste and he enjoyed her succulence with gusto. When she came, clamping down hard on two of his fingers, she rewarded him with an especially strong gush of her cream. He nibbled on her throughout her 'gasm, and as he felt her waves subside, he rose from the floor, shucked his shorts, and slid his long hard straight cock deep into her cunt. For the first several thrusts, he still stood, leaning down over her. They gradually scooted further back onto the bed. Annette's legs were spread wide, her knees up, while Peter's knees and arms held his weight as he thrust again and again. Annette ran her hands along the small of Peter's back, both under and over his shirt, enjoying the feel of him, everywhere. She kicked off her black patent leather sandals so she could wrap her legs around him without clonking his back with the clunky high heels. Annette thrust up as Peter thrust down. With the force of their glorious fucking, they gradually traveled backwards across the length of the bed. When Annette felt her head near the headboard, she sat up, as did Peter. They paused in their wonderful exertions long enough to remove their sweaty shirts. Annette straddled Peter's lap, repositioned herself, slid down and forward onto his cock. Peter nibbled at her neck; Annette threw back her head to give him better access. Their rhythms quickly resynchronized, increased. Peter lay back, his head towards the foot of the bed. Annette stayed upright, riding his cock like a good little cowgirl. Annette's breathing and moaning reverberated throughout the room as she approached orgasm. Peter, by contrast, was maddeningly silent; his eyes narrowed to slits as he completely focused on this moment, this feeling. The memory of this sight -- Annette bucking back and forth on top of his cock -- burned itself into his brain. As Annette started to cum, her movements became wilder, her moans louder. Finally, Peter came. He came so hard inside Annette he would be dizzy and weak for hours. Annette leaned down to kiss Peter on his mouth, his neck. She kept kissing him as she lifted herself off his cock. His cum and her juices, mingled, flowed from her pussy. Perhaps somewhat belatedly, she removed her skirt, not wanting to stain it. She stretched out alongside Peter, luxuriating in the feel of him. They were both exhausted, sated, grinning. "You hungry?" Peter asked. "God, yes!" Annette replied, only then realizing she hadn't eaten since noon that day. Some appetites apparently took precedence over others. Room service is truly a wonderful thing, especially when one is too content to move, especially at two thirty in the morning, most especially if it involves cheese, at least according to our sweaty and disheveled protagonists. They ordered cheesy veggie eggy things, barely moving from the bed. While they waited for their food, Annette pulled Peter's shirt off and guided him to a facedown reclining position on the bed. She began rubbing his back, kneading his muscles. "Tell me if I go too hard," she said. "Uhhnh," replied Peter. Annette chuckled fondly -- god, she loved this man! -- as she continued her attentions. She massaged his upper back, shoulder, arms, hands, fingertips. She cradled the base of his skull in one hand as she rubbed his neck with the other. She pressed her strong fingers onto his scalp; she massaged his ears. Then, working down his spine again, she stroked the muscles in his lower back, his asscheeks, his thighs, his calves, his feet, down to his toes. She had just begun the return journey up to his back when the knock came on the door. "Room service." Peter rolled off the bed, pulled his shorts back on, and lumbered to the door. As the delivery boy pushed the cart into the room, Annette remembered she was naked and casually, she hoped, pulled the bedspread across her body. Peter paid the boy and sent him on his way, inwardly laughing at Annette. Sex. Food. And soon, sleep. What a fine start to a vacation, Annette thought as she began to devour her mushroom cheese omelet. --------------- yes, there IS a part three, but I haven't written it yet.... if it's something you'd like to read, let me know & I'll get right on it! Copyright 1998 SBDDF Productions. Do not repost, redistribute, and reproduce. 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