What happens in Vegas…

Ends up on my blog. Damn straight.

My last night in Vegas was definitely something to write home about. Or possibly not.

Post card message home… From Vegas. With love.

You see, I had this greyhound pass. That for a month let me get on and off greyhounds at will. Travel anywhere, anytime. So that morning I trotted down the greyhound station and made sure I got a ticket for the bus that night to El Paso to see a friend. Not a problem, they booked me into the bus that was taking off about 8pm. Win. I left to go shopping. Because that’s what I do best when hungover. Well, shop and fuck. But we come to that latter bit later.

After my awesome shopping expedition, I trundle off to the greyhound station about 7.30 and get into line for the bus that’s taking me to my first foray that is the wonderful state of Texas.

I met a lovely old couple waiting in front of me in line at the greyhound station. We chatted about travelling, the joys of greyhounds and the interesting people we’ve met. There was a sandy-haired man in front of them who eventually joined in our little conversation. I admit. I eyeballed him. Face in book … hmmm. Body, tick. Clothes aren’t torn or dirty, tick. He got the tick of overall approval only because his nose was so far in a book that I hadn’t noticed how awesome the rest of his face was until he pulled the book away and I got a good look. My heart might have picked up a beat and my cunt was screaming that I was going to fuck this boy before I got to Texas. I told her to shut the fuck up and let me have my conversation without interrupting me every few minutes asking if it was time yet. Yes. My cunt and I often have verbal internal dialogue going in the hopes that she doesn’t take over and ruin my life… which is what usually happens when I let her out of the box without control.

Uncontrolled vagina destruction…

At about 5 to 8 a woman comes over the speaker to inform us that the bus to El Paso is delayed. It should be here by about 9pm. Ah ok. We huff and decide that we’re done standing in line, so we park our collective asses on the ground and I start regaling them about the lovely flora & fauna of Australia and reassure them that not everything is out to kill you. And no, we don’t have kangaroo’s hopping down the streets in Sydney. Could you imagine the traffic jam on the Harbour Bridge if that was the case? We laugh, they tell me stories of weird inbred country people that they were moving away from. I nod and wonder if all country people are this weird and if I should be worried about heading into Texas. It’s not country right?

About 9.30pm the discombobulated voice comes on the speaker again to tell us that the bus has broken down and won’t be in till 11pm, that he will definitely keep us up to date as more information comes in. Cue the grumbling from everyone already sitting on the floor in a line for non-existent bus. Hot book guy is still really hot. My underpants are dying to fly off and my cunt is literally screeching at me that we have an hour to rape him. I blush a bit and start talking about how awesome our beaches are. Even the nudist ones. No, I haven’t been to one. Have you hot book guy? Hmmmm. Naked. Yes. Err what book are you reading? He starts to prattle on about literature, I stare mindlessly at his lips moving as I wonder how I could get his pants off in public. Are his eyes grey? Gee they look grey. I’ve never fucked a guy with grey eyes before! Or an American!!! 2 in 1 BUCKETLIST!!!

Welcome to my internal monologue when my cunt is on its way to taking over.

About 10.30 pm we’re all still talking about shit, my eyes keep wondering over to hot book guy more and more often. I love a pretty picture to look at as much as the next hot-blooded and seriously horny woman. And the confused sounding greyhound employee comes back over the speakers and advises us that the bus isn’t going to make it in tonight. It might have had an accident. Or broken down. Or something. I grinned like a cheshire cat at this news. Or even like the cat that was about to get the cream. Oh yes.

He looks at me grinning and smiles in return. Ohhh boy. I know that smile. He says we should go find something to drink since we’re going to be here all night. Oh you betcha boyo, you betcha. I heartily agree. The lovely old couple offer to stay behind and mind our luggage while we head back to downtown to get a bottle of something. We promise to bring them back some and they laugh and tell us to have fun. Mmhmm fun indeed. I’m positively gleeful at this point. And my cunt is singing “we’re going to get laid”…

So we get up and start walking back to the bottle shop up past the Queens downtown. He asked me if I was single, I asked him if he was. We chatted about the weather. How hot it was. How we are enjoying other people dance as we swing from a bottle of tequila as we walked and chatted. At one point he asked me to dance. So we danced. And twirled and made out.

This is why I couldn’t date a guy that’s short, because I’m short. I love the feeling of a guy being able to bend his head to kiss me. Plus that I can snuggle in and get lost in his torso.

GreyEyes had a way with his tongue. The kiss was sending me weak at the knees and I might have moaned a few times… In my half a bottle of tequila induced drunkenness my panties were hosting a heavenly choir of “ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh” going down. Uh huh.

We seemed to have stopped dancing by this point and were pretty much just standing in the middle of the Fremont Street Experience with our mouths locked together and some groping going down. We drew apart for a breath and he whispered if I wanted to find somewhere I bit quieter without thousands watching us. I nodded while I tried to get my brain to start functioning again so I could talk. I waved the nearly empty tequila bottle at him and he got it. He said we should take that back to the old couple before finding somewhere. I nodded furiously and grinned. Told him to wait in a croaky voice while I ran to the nearest bar and ordered two iced margarita’s. For the road, yanno. Important things. I am all over that shit.

Walking back to the greyhound station with our tequila and frozen margarita’s I made the remark that they wouldn’t take kindly to us handing over a bottle of tequila so we acquired an apple juice bottle, emptied the apple juice and filled the golden tequila inside. We arz genius. Pretty impressed with our drunken logic we held hands and went back to hand over the nectar.

The old couple grinned at us holding hands and thanked us for the apple juice. We said we were going to go for a midnight stroll around and watch some more people. They told us to be safe and they’d see us soon.

We walked. We talked. We ended up in a parking lot somewhere that was next to one of the casino’s. He finds a sort of out-of-the-way spot and pushes me up against the wall as we start making out in earnest now. Hands all over, he has a great ass, I stop to bite on his neck and tell him that he has a fucking good ass and my hands approve. As he’s literally taking a chunk out of my neck with his biting and I’m withering in ecstasy I notice a SUV parked in the middle of a lane, it’s high beams on us not moving. I might have poked him and said uhhmmm please don’t stop biting me but maybe you should get your hands out of my shorts because we have an audience. He dutifully got his hands out of my shorts and we went back to making out like a pair of randy teenagers.

The SUV finally decided that we were boring because all we did was kiss and they pulled away, soon as the lights dimmed GreyEyes had his hands straight back down my shorts as my cunt throbbed in time with my panting. He was good with his hands too! Oh dear gods was he good. I might have come and the next thing I know my shorts & undies are whipped off and he’s got me bent over and fucking me hard. He had his fist wrapped in my hair and the other hand over my mouth. Kinky sex with a random was definitely not on the cards, but dear gods it was hot as hell and he knew. The cheeky bugger knew. Because I might have come at least 10 times before he did. At which point I went down on my hands and knees to try to find where he threw my shorts when I heard him say “oh no”

Uhhh no. This can’t be good. I spy my shorts dangling off the fence a few steps away and tell him to go get them since I’m the one that’s naked from the waist down while I hide in the dark and explain to me why he is saying oh no.

He dutifully goes and gets my shorts before coming back to stand in front of me to shield me while I put my clothes back on and says, “oh umm, you know the condom?” Yes, I say, the thing you put on your penis. He nodded then said “Er, it’s not on me”

“What?” says a very confused me. “What do you mean it’s not on  you?!” – He says “Well I had it on while we were fucking, and now it’s gone..”

“What does that meaaaaaaaaaaan!!!” I squeal. He says half laughing “I think it’s inside you..” At which point I freak out and he bursts into more laughter at my swearing.


He’s literally in stitches now. I tell him to shut the fuck up and get it out. He shakes his head. Bitch! You left it in there, get it out!!!

Noooo he says. No?! No?!!! Right…

So off I go and dig. It’s not a dignified look, oh no. Here I am squatting in the middle of a fucking CAR PARK with two fingers up my cunt digging around for a condom. He starts to get hysterical as I swear more because I can’t find it. How big is my fucking cunt for fucks sake?!! It’s got to be in there somewhere!!! Finally my finger catches on something that doesn’t feel soft and squishy and I frantically get my two fingers to pinch it to pull it out. And scream “I fucking found it!!! Oh em gee, this is gross”

Mr GreyEyes is now on the floor holding his stomach laughing really hard. So I threw the condom at him. He didn’t stop laughing, but he did say eww and moved. Well, it made me feel infinitely better.

We decide that it was great drunk sex and we should go walkies for a bit. I remind him that he’s lost my underwear in a car park in Vegas and I hope that it’s not on some poor sod’s windscreen. He snickers at me and we wonder off down the road.

He’s a good talker, I was enjoying listening to his baritone when he asked me how kinky I was. I might have looked at him and blinked. Err excuse me? He says, I noticed how hard you got off when I hurt you while fucking you. So how submissive are you? Well shit. I didn’t have enough alcohol to have this talk. Somewhat kinky I say, he calls my bullshit by grabbing me by the throat and pushing me not so softly against the wall whilst squeezing my throat lightly. I might have moaned and rocked my hips to his. Yeah, I thought so he said. You’re a cunt was my reply.

He was definitely turning it on with his talk…

He grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to a slab of concrete that was in a building zone just behind the Vegas station. Next thing I know my head is dangling off the edge of the slab of concrete as he pulled my shorts to the side to set his tongue to work. I died a mini death, watching the moon in the sky, the neon of the Vegas casino’s around me and this man’s very skilful tongue making me scream over and over. Finally I grabbed him by his hair to drag him up for a deep long kiss and told him to fuck me. He grinned and obliged. My shorts didn’t even come off, he tried to take them off and I told him to fuck it… I lost my underwear anyway, pull them to one side and go for it. He asked if I wanted him to use a condom again. I said no, I was traumatised enough for one night and there’s no point. He was still inside me from last time. I reassured him that I have a clean bill of health as per my scan I had before I left home and that I’m on the pill, he assured me that he was clean as well. Too late to stress about it now, I was too horny. He fucked longer, harder… faster, softer. It was the best send off to Vegas that I could think of.

I’m sure the security guards that walked past twice would agree. I also had no idea that one could get concrete burn until this night.

My elbows, my hips, my ass.. they all had patches of hurt. We walked back to the greyhound station utterly sated. My cunt had finally shut up and I was ready to pass out.

The problem being that the greyhound terminal doesn’t really have seats you can stretch out on. So we found a corner and he laid down and I curled up on top of him about 4am and we groaned that the next day was going to be hell, yet very very interesting on the bus before we both passed out.

He was the nicest bed of my trip…


  1. Loved this story. For the sex mainly but also the condom loss… And funnily enough, it’s the second post I’ve read about that in a week. Dudesandshit’s latest post is the other one.

  2. Pingback: Quarter mile high club? – Road Tripping Memories | Spankalicious

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