03/01/2015

What happens in Vegas

I woke up and felt a little disoriented. All I really knew was that we were at a hotel in Las Vegas, it was Sunday morning, and we had been drinking way too much this weekend. I looked over at her and the curves of her soft milky white skin reminded me of an old painting by Vermeer. I’m always struck with such deep emotion when I watch her sleep. Her blonde hair spreading over her shoulder slightly covering her breasts. As I marveled over her I sudden came to the realization of our previous nights activities. The biggest reminder was the gold band on my left ring finger.

As I slowly brought myself to a sitting position I started assembling the cloudy puzzle pieces in my head. It brought a smile to my face even though I could feel a surge of anxiety building. We flew into Vegas Friday night. We’re one of the only couples I know that are members of the “Mile High Club”. That wasn’t our first time either. Thinking of her uncomfortably bent over in that tiny room, and me behind her contoured in a manner that years of yoga helped me achieve. I can’t help but to smile. Having such an adventurous partner is exciting. This ring though? Did we really get married? I peak over at her left hand spying a set of wedding bands, and one side of a pair of fuzzy handcuffs on her wrist. “Holy Fuck!” I whisper. I guess we did. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy, she is the greatest woman I know, but married? We hadn’t even discussed this before. Not seriously anyway. I looked deeper into my cloudy memory and the details started flooding back.

We were playing blackjack and on a roll. We were drinking pretty heavy then. It was when we went to a magic show, and she was called on stage that I really started craving her that night. The light from the spotlight, the flashing kaleidoscope of colors, and her smile beaming across the room. Every man in the room wanted her, and I was the only man that got to have her. She walked off of the stage, and I took her into my arms. I kissed her hard in front of the crowd. You could almost hear a sigh of envy from every person in the room. She was the only person I seen though. It could have been gin induced, but I’m convinced that I was just drunk on her love.

We left wrapping our arms around each others waist. We were walking and laughing. Once I joked about us getting married in Vegas. Her dressed as Elvis and myself as Tina Turner. She always laughed, called me a dork, and said “No fucking way!” As we walked though the subject came up. Should we get married? The idea itself never bothered us. The idea that we needed a piece of paper telling us that we were legally married just didn’t make sense. We couldn’t imagine anyone more suited for each other. We stopped outside of one of those quickie wedding chapels, and I dropped to one knee. I think it was probably to cheesiest, and most unromantic proposals that had ever been presented. I was surprised when she said yes. Maybe it was the mass amounts of alcohol, maybe it was just that we were wrapped up in the emotion, or maybe it was a combination of both, but we walked in. Even drunk I couldn’t talk her into dressing up like Elvis. They called our names, we walked up, and in ten minutes were married.

After we kissed I threw her over my shoulder, and with deep protest I carried her out of the chapel. We walked into a pawn shop, picked out a set of bands, and made it, as the rest of society sees it, official. We walked hand and hand stopping to kiss and laugh every few feet. The twenty minute walk to out hotel became an hour. You might even say it was foreplay leading up to the foreplay. At any given second we were groping each other, me grabbing her breast, sliding my hand down her pants, and her grabbing my cock. We’re always playful, but this was different. It was a deeper hunger for each other. We made it to our hotel, and into the elevator. I pushed her against the wall, and once again slid my hand into her pants. We had eight floors, and a slow elevator, I planned on using all that time to make her cum.

By the time we reached the eighth floor my hand was as wet as she was. We ran to our room, only to find out that we didn’t know where our key-card was. Still drunk we laughed out loud, and started to kiss. She shrieked with excitement when she remembered that the card was pushed inside the ticket pocket in my jacket. I pushed her against the door kissing her while I fumbled for the lock. I hit the spot, and was able to fit the key-card in opening he door and slamming it behind us. We undressed each other like wild animals ripping at prey. As I reached around to remove her bra she dropped to her knees releasing it with a snap. She didn’t pause, it was like she didn’t notice. She started sucking my cock, and telling me how much she wanted me. She stood, finished removing her bra, and jumped on the bed. She spun around at the edge of the bed, and bent over turning her head towards me smiling. I didn’t stop to think about anything other than being with her. Her fire and passion are magic. We moved from positions with the grace and ease of a trapeze artist, and with similar motions at times. Rolling back and forth from her on top, to me, and then spinning around into seemingly awkward poses each one poised to bring maximum pleasure to one another.

She reached into her bag next to the bed and brought out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. She put one side on her left wrist, and told me to take the other. I clasped it one her other wrist, held her hands over her head, and pulled her knees up to my shoulders. I slammed my body into her harder with each thrust. Her screams of joy were only matched by her moans. Carrying like thunder in my ears I continued my thrusts while keeping her arms pinned. We kept focused on each others eyes, my eyes drifting to her breast, my free hand moving up and down her leg, pinching her nipples, and touching her face. I slowed down pulling out, rolled her over, and pulled her hands over her head. I pulled her hair, and slowly placed my cock back inside of her. Wet and anxious she welcomed me, moving her hips as I slowly built back to my hard thrusts. As she reached her moment of climax she begged me not to stop. She begged me to pound her harder and harder. As she started to cum I released the cuffs, gripped her hips, and thrust as hard as I could. I joined her in her climax, and we both fell into a ball of flesh. Laying with her is a tangles mass of tantric pleasure our bodies were still one, no beginning and no end to either. One body, gasping for air, holding on to a final few minutes of pure bliss.

We snuggled in next to one another, holding close, and falling asleep to the one thing we could hear over any other noise. The beating of our hearts in unison.

As she woke she turned to me and smiled. “we got married…” She said pausing. I smiled, and told her I knew. She didn’t bother asking if it was real. We knew. Just like we knew last night. Sometimes you just don’t have a choice. The universe has a plan. Sometimes you can’t fight that. The way I see it it’s not like we had a choice.

Not that I would want it any other way.

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