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.
Following on from my last fuck filled night in Vegas – our jaunt out of Vegas was just as much fun on the Greyhound.
Goodbye Las Vegas! Thanks for the concrete burn! <3
We were seedy, hung over like hell and hadn’t eaten anything by the time we loaded the bus at about 8 am. We crawled to the back of the bus and he wedged himself in the corner and I literally threw myself over him and we went back to sleep.
We woke up somewhere on the outskirts of Nevada and had a brief chat. Yes, his head hurt. Yes my head hurt. No I had no water. Oh he did in his backpack. Fantastic. No headache tablets. What’s the next stop again? I need more sleep. So we snuggled back into it and passed out.
Next we woke up and I think we were in Arizona. My head was pounding like a bitch and somehow my hand had ended up in his crotch with my face not too far behind on his stomach. Well hello there Mr Throbber. He might have been asleep but his other parts weren’t! I decided to behave myself until at least the bus was a bit less “full of people”. I didn’t want to be kicked off in the middle of Arizona with no idea where I was and a killer hang over.
And I know “sexual” things weren’t allowed on Greyhounds, the man driving told us so before starting the bus up and leave. Maybe I had a sign on my forehead that he noticed as I climbed on to the bus??
I think I went back to sleep. With my hand cupping his hard on. Some girls like teddy bears, what can I say? I like a full raging boner to snuggle.
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.
So I woke up the following day and decided that I was going to walk from downtown to the strip. It couldn’t be that far right?
I strolled out to find two cute bicycle mounted… Well police or whatever they were chatting away merrily as they peddled. Anyone that knows me also knows that I’m an absolute sucker for uniforms. Which meant I had to stop myself from launching onto the back of one. Instead I talked myself into taking a peekture (see above) and possibly walk really really fast to try to keep up with their perk lil
asses legs peddling lazily.
I finally lost them when I had to turn right to start my trek to the Strip. Along the way I was hoping to find a store where I could purchase a phone and a sim so that I could also be mobile. Figured if I headed in the general direction and used a bit of zen walking I should be fine. I was. Honest. Grabbed a bottle of water and off I went.
I landed in Vegas just as the sun was setting, most lights weren’t on yet, the greyhound station was along S Main St…That picture up there may as well been what I was faced with in the greyhound terminal.
I grabbed my luggage and walked out and down the street. Under the multi-lighted Plaza Hotel towards what I hoped was Fremont St and my hotel.
The lights were dazzling, my jet lag was fading and I was actually dragging my bright pink and empty suitcase along the path behind me with a skip in my step.
Toto, we weren’t in Kansas any more! I was in Las Vegas baby!
There might have been some dance walking and squee’ing at this point. It was allowed, no one was around.