My last post wrapped up when I went back to Texas to visit with Daddy and how I took 10 years off his life with my cuts, bruises and bleeding in his car. Not the kind of bruising I was hoping for but best laid plans and all that. We never did break open his toy bag. All that leather that didn’t touch my skin, oh well. Next time. There’s always next time no?
So I flew back into Vegas and let Scotty know I was back. He asked if I would stay with him again and I said that I thought it was best that I spend the last few days in Vegas in my room as it’s easier for me to buy all the bits and pieces I needed to take home and I didn’t want to inconvenience him with having him drive me everywhere. We didn’t ever get another night of amazing fucking, which is one of my regrets, but I figure he’s not going anywhere and he’s not given up on me yet so who knows, maybe there will be awesome sex happening again sometime soon.
I did however spend the second last night I was in Vegas with Mr. Married. Yes, he and his wife were in an open relationship, he found me on OKC while I was over there and he was in town on business trip so we agreed to meet up again as he was the one I had a date with but had to cancel because I was dying from the Santa Rampage and he bought me headache tablets to help while I was hiding in bed wishing I was dead.
So he knocked on my door after he’d finished work for the day, we picked up our conversation from the last time we met and before long we were ripping our clothes off and fell into bed. I have no idea how we went from amazing conversation to naked sex, but I blame his brain. I’m such a sapiosexual that I’ll blame that. His brain made me wet.
sapiosexual (comparative more sapiosexual, superlative most sapiosexual). Attracted to intelligence or the human mind.
And after we’d fucked in every imaginable way possible, he laid me down and told me not to move while he settled next to me, both of us naked, his leg thrown over mine and keeping my legs spread. He was amazing with his hands. I’ve never been with a guy like that before that, or since for that matter. He played my cunt like he was playing Mozart on a violin. He found my buttons quickly and pushed them repeatedly. From making me answer his dirty questions while he told me not to touch anything all the while his hand was between my legs. I was making the worlds biggest wet patch and still he continued. I lost count after the first 10 minutes and over 15 orgasms. Still he kept strumming. And my damn body was rising and falling to his ministrations. I lost track of time, several orgasms and everything else after a while and it was a sea of arching, crying, begging, shaking before the roller-coaster started again. All the while his fingers strummed. They drew it all out of me. I was covered in sweat, tears and didn’t know up from down before he stopped. Apparently it went for an hour, I thought it was a lifetime. And all through it, his face was near mine and slightly above it. He was staring intently at my reactions, my cries for it to stop, my tears… he would grin at me and ask me why I wanted it to stop since I was obviously having such a good time. I had no answer for him and apparently I don’t know means that he kept going.
He’d kiss away my tears, he’d marvel at the sweat gathering in the v in my neck and yet he kept going. When he finally did stop I couldn’t stop shaking. My limbs wouldn’t work and I honestly couldn’t move even if there was a fire. He laughed at me while he went to get me a drink of water. He held my head while I drank and laid there naked, sweating and trembling. What had just happened? Why has no one ever done this before? It was exquisite in its pushing of my boundaries of verbal exchange while all I wanted to do was ride the wave after wave of pure ecstasy, it was painful in a hot and making me come more kind of way and it feed my need to surrender, yet he kept me mentally bound without having to use any toy.
I did mention that I needed to go to the bathroom not long after and I managed to roll myself to the edge of the bed and he helped me sit up. Up wasn’t so bad after all! Except when I went to stand and landed on my ass at his feet. He was spending an inordinate amount of time laughing at me so I gave him the finger. He helped me back up into the bathroom before leaving me to my own devices.
After I finished in the bathroom, I called out that we should shower. I needed a cold shower. My body felt inflamed. Even the air conditioner’s breeze on my skin was making me moan and want to fall in a heap. Everything was hyper sensitive and I needed it to stop so I could function. He helped me into the shower, we turned on the water and he washed me. Gently and with absolute adoration. It was perfect. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to cry or fuck him again. We talked in the shower, about this and that.
When we did finally get out of the shower and dried my stomach growled and I looked at him sheepishly. He grinned. We’d forgotten about dinner. We look at the clock and it’s 10pm. How did that happen? 4 hours of fucking! Score. We both agreed we should go out and get something to eat.
So we walked down to The Golden Nugget – which over looked their shark tank and indoor pool. I must stay here next time I’m in town.
At dinner he transfixed me some more with his words. This man’s brain was amazing. We clicked so well intellectually that it was like brain sex over dinner. Is that even possible? It should be. Our brains fucked while we ate and that’s not to say we were talking dirty, we weren’t. We were talking about experiences, life epiphanies, philosophies and travelling. He is such a word smith. Which isn’t that surprising considering he does public speaking for a job. But damn. He was my second ever Canadian. My first was my snowboard instructor back in Australia. We shagged during our night snowboarding adventure in the snow. Oh fun times!
But I can’t even remember how the food was, was it good? Who knows, all I know is that verbally we were making magic.
He walked me back to my hotel and begged off to go sleep as he had work the next day and I’d broken him. I’d broken him!! HAH! I laughed at him and told him he broke me. He said he somehow doubted it and that if he were to come back up to the room he had no doubt that I’d coax his tired old body back into being hard and I told him yes, yes I would. So I did, after which he did beg off and left. I slept the sleep of the dead. I was mentally and physically sated.
I woke up the next morning to a lovely message from him saying that he doesn’t think he’ll stop smiling for a while after our night together and thanking me for being me. I fell a wee bit in love with him at this point and thanked him for being fucking amazing. He wanted to meet up again for round 2 but I begged off as I had to pack and organise my travel back to LAX the next day as my plane flew out of LAX at 1pm so I needed to make sure I got there in time. He said he understood and that he hoped I had a great flight home and he was honoured that he met me.
I spent that night booking a plane from LAX to Vegas accidentally instead of from Vegas to LAX and since they refused to change my flights I ended up on a greyhound at 8am back to LAX.
I stood at the end of the Freemont Experience and walked away with a heavy heart.
I didn’t want to leave. From Scotty to Mr. Married, from my shagging on concrete blocks on my first stay in Vegas, to loosing my knickers in a parking lot and the lost condom ordeal. The Texan experience, my tattoo, New Orleans during 4th of July.
So I cried on the bus back to LA.
And swore I’d be back.
I also got an email about 6 months after I’d met Mr. Married and he said that he wanted to tell me that I was the most interesting person he’d met that year and to thank me. What a beautiful soul!
Next time, I’ll be revisiting with these amazing men that made my visit so amazingly wonderful. Next year.
This year’s visit was about family, my birthday and my ex. Next year though. Next year I’m making a return – these guys have pieces of my heart and I can’t wait to catch up again.