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.
You know, I’ve had a pretty shitty week so I thought what better way to end it than to start to wrap up my very first State-side road trip.
So I believe we left off where I woke up with the random Santa in my bed and drunk amnesia, no?
2 days of alcohol poisoning had left me feeling a bit weak and useless. My luggage had finally turned up so I walked down to the Greyhound station to pick up my pretty pink wheelie and take it back to my room and finally get into some clean clothes.
Scotty had been in contact again, requesting my presence. I begged off saying I wasn’t human and he told me I didn’t have a say because he couldn’t take care of me unless we were together. So he asked where I was staying, what room I was in and turned up no more than 30 minutes later. Settled into the sofa in my room and just looked hot and smouldering staring at me while I tried to unpack my clothes as I got more and more flustered at his staring and his caresses as I passed by. Ok, so maybe I stopped to throw myself into his lap on occasion to make out and hump his leg. I am not above my hormones, oh no.
I gave up trying to unpack my wayward luggage and sat on the edge of the bed feeling about as useful as tits on a bull when Scotty pipes up that I should just pack up my luggage and go stay with him.
You could hear the crickets chirping as I considered this.
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.