"I don't know what to do with you," he finally gasped, his voice gruff. He moved forward, pressing his hard body to me, and I felt his dick twitch against my leg.
"What do you mean?! I want you, I need you to f**k me," I gasped, my voice jagged with need.
"I can't. You're too…you'll be too attached. I'm not a boyfriend, Julia."
"I don't want a damn boyfriend. I want a cock. Your c**k right now. Put it in me and f**k me." I had steely determination in my voice and glared at him with eyes of fire.
His eyes grew dark with desire, and he kept one hand on the back of my neck, moved the other one down to play with my pussy. He put two fingers in me and I gasped, then grinded softly against his fingers. My eyes shut in silent ecstasy and I bit my bottom lip. "I thought you were a good girl," he whispered in my ear. "Didn’t f**k unless you're in love."
I shook my head quickly, back and forth. "I changed my mind. Yesterday. Earlier. I want you, I need you." my voice now pleading.
"I can't be what you want. You know that?" he asked, his voice rasping in my ear, his fingers moving faster and faster in my wet pussy, building my need.
"I don't want anything from you. I just need your cock. in me. now." My voice was coming in gasps now, my legs getting weak with the intensity building between them. My eyes rolled back and I started to sink, my legs jell-o. He pulled out his fingers, and my eyes flew open. "No - don't stop, I was just about to-"
He spun my around so that I was facing the body jets and turned them all on full force. I gasped, the initial water cold, but then it turned hot, three separate jets spraying my tits, stomach, and pussy. Brad turned the bottom jet until it sprayed strong, the highest intensity. "Spread your legs," he said gruffly. I obeyed, placing my legs how he wanted, then arched my body when the water hit me in just the right spot. Oh my god. The strong stream felt amazing, vibrating my cl*tand spreading pleasure throughout my body. Brad groaned behind me, and ran his hands underneath my body, brushing my nipples, then traveling down and making sure that the spray was hitting me where it should. I wasn't expecting his dick when it happened, a huge girth pressing insistently on my wet pussy. He forced it in, fast and quick, and I called out, in pain and surprise.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, " he whispered, holding my body against his, his arm holding me close and grabbing a breast, his voice in my ear.
"I'm not." I gasped, my body beginning to adjust to his size. He was so hard, so thick, so… everywhere inside of me. For the first time in my life I felt full - felt him in every wall, muscle, nerve in my pussy. He moved slowly, in and out, then faster. Squeezing my breast, he drilled himself into me, and I arched, f**king him back. The water spray continued on my clit, and I could feel myself getting close to orgasm, the crescendo in my head and body growing. I started screaming, letting out every pent-in emotion I had, telling him to f**k me harder, and longer, and telling him how much I loved his big cock. My words ran together until finally I exploded, in a big long "AHHHHH!" my legs shaking and my pu**y pulsing, the pleasure bursting, over and over again, in sweet blinding earth shattering release. He slowed his strokes, stretching my orgasm out, until it was gone. He held me up when I collapsed again him, and he turned me, his c**k falling out, and held me to him. My eyes focused and I frowned at him. "Did you…?"
He smiled and kissed me. "No."
"Then why are we…?"
"I wasn't f**king you for me. Besides, I was stupid. I shouldn't have been in you without a condom. I got caught up in the moment and wasn't prepared. Are you okay?"
I frowned at him. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"
"I didn't know if you regretted it."
I blew a wet strand away from my face. "I'm not one of those girls, Brad. I needed you just now, more than I've every needed anyone, and I wanted you to f**k me. Which you did - very well by the way, thank you." I kissed him merrily on the face and turned, grabbing the body scrub and squeezing a generous amount onto my palms and working it into foam. I turned around, my hands now Island Tropic Berry. "Now, want me to wash your back?"
---
For breakfast, we decided to go to the Buffet downstairs. I dressed casually, in ripped up jeans, a white tank, and leather flip-flops. The buffet was huge, and I unintentionally piled my plate high just by grabbing a little bit of everything. We sat in a plastic booth and I grinned through a mouthful of pancakes at Brad.
"Whaart?" he said, his mouth full as well.
"It's just funny. You and me at an all you can eat buffet in Vegas, stuffing our faces after you just boned me in the shower. You know Broward would have a heart attack right now if he knew what we were doing."
"I don't think pancakes are outlawed in the corporate handbook."
I stuck my tongue out at him and grinned. "So," I said, spearing a lone strawberry and dipping it in yogurt, "can I go on your super secret mission or what?"
"You just want to go to find out what it is. It's really not that exciting."
"Then tell me what the errand is; then I'll decide if I want to go."
"I'm going to visit an old friend of mine. She lives in Boulder City, about a half hour drive east of Las Vegas. "
"An ex-girlfriend?"
"No… I do have female friends that I don't sleep with."
I snorted. "Likely."
"Do you want to come or not?"
"Will the… friend mind if I come?"
He smiled. "I think she can hold her jealousy in check for your visit."
"Do you mind if I come? I feel like I'm forcing myself on you."
"No. If you come I have a side trip we can take. Though you are a pain in the ass, I wouldn't mind your company for just a bit longer."
"Fine. Then I'm coming. I'm getting a little sick of the…" I waved my hand to encompass all that Bellagio was.
"Luxury?" he asked with a grin.
"Yeah. Luxury. Thanks for the help."
"No problem."
CHAPTER 24
One hour later we were standing next to a brand new Dodge Viper. At some type of a Hertz on crack, the rental dealership had a collection of Vipers, Ferraris, and Lambos, as well as the more-refined Bentleys and Rolls. I guess "Tiffany" had gone on the lower price point and set Brad up with the Viper. It was bright blue, a convertible, and as ostentatious and sexy as they get.
"You’re driving this? I was thinking we'd be in, you know, a four-door Mercedes or something. Is this even street legal?"
"I'm driving this. You're driving that." He pointed over my shoulder and I spun, seeing an identical red clone. "It's stick-shift. Will that be a problem?"
I turned and looked back at him coolly, at least with my best impression of coolly. "Not unless you can't keep up."
He laughed and banged the top of the car with his hand, eliciting something close to a gasp from the salesman. "Your on baby."
An employee showed me the basic schematics of the car. There wasn't much to show - the car was built for one thing - speed. Other than basic A/C and what looked like an impressive sound system, all he really had to show me what how to operate the top. We went ahead and put it down. It seemed way too complicated, and I didn’t want to break anything in the next four hours.
"Any last questions?" the man asked, handing me the keys.
"Does it have a radar detector?" I asked innocently.
The pain in his eyes answered my question.
---
I pulled up next to Brad, my eyes flashing in excitement.
"You sure you want to miss out on riding with me? You look a little glum." he asked sarcastically.
I sighed dramatically. "It's going to be really tough, but I'm going to try and suffer through."
"Alright then. Follow me out of the city. If we get separated, stay on 515 till we get to Boulder City. There is a Taco Bell right in the city limits - meet me there."
"Got it." I gave him a thumbs up and revved my engine. He shook his head at me and pulled out.
We took a left out of the dealership and came to an almost immediate stop at a light. The engine roared, even at a standstill. I massaged the pedals and prepared myself to start. My start was a little rough, I gave it too much gas and the engine revved high. Better than a stall. I worked my ways through the gears as we drove through the city, getting used to the feel of the car. Finally, Brad got in the turn lane for the highway and we merged into the fast-moving traffic. Opening up the car felt similar to taking off. I cranked up the radio and was doing eighty before I could blink, and was still in third gear! I up shifted and felt the car comfortably cruise. We behaved, never crossing over 100, but zigzagging past cars like they were sitting still. Three songs later, we were slowing and pulling over to a Taco Bell. I frowned, not ready to be at the destination yet. I pulled up next to Brad and turned down the radio.
"You want to ride with me from here?" he yelled, over the drone of the engines.
"Nah. I'll follow."
"Whatever you want. Stay close."
He pulled a tight U-turn in the small parking lot, and I followed suit, the rear wheel drive throwing me off a bit. The back end spun out a little and I came close to plowing into an older-model minivan and mother with two kids. I made an apologetic grimace and tried to call out an apology, but Brad was pulling out and I didn't want to get left behind. She shot me a glare and pulled her kids WAY over on the curb. A little overdramatic. One of the kids, a pre-teen boy with coke bottle glasses, tripped over the curb, staring and pointing at my car. The girl, a little older, with a bored look on her face, whipped out an iPhone and took a picture. I rolled into traffic behind Brad.
Boulder City seemed to be a typical small town. It had a few of the tourist booths advertising Hoover Dam tours and Lake Mead excursions but had all the standard trappings of normalcy. Our cars had seemed normal on the Strip, but here they stuck out like sore thumbs. Ambidextrous, jeweled thumbs, but still sore ones. I loved seeing kids’ reactions from the passing sedans and SUVs, and felt like every guy in a three-mile radius craned his neck to look as we passed. We left the highway and turned down one side street after another, Brad seeming to know the route well. The engine was beginning to get hot beneath me by the time we finally stopped, pulling up to a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The yard was tiny, but well tended, and there were fresh flowers planted by the mailbox. A mid-level Mercedes was parked in the driveway, the only sign of wealth.
I turned off the car, letting it work its way to silence, and then stepped from the car, trying to smooth my windswept hair and brush the road dirt from my face. I should have brought a brush. Knowing Brad, this woman would be dressed to the nines with her br**sts on full display while I looked like a bedraggled homeless girl. I gave up on my appearance and joined Brad on the front porch. He rang the bell and we listened to its chimes ring through the home.
Thirty seconds later, the door opened.
---
I found myself staring at Betty Fucking Crocker. Or, at least, her identical twin. I expected for this old woman's 20-something daughter to pop out from behind a ceramic rooster, but Brad greeted the woman heartily enough that I understood her to be the "old friend" that we were visiting. I hadn’t realized that the man had literally meant "old".
I stood quietly on the front stoop, waiting for the woman to stop gushing over Brad; finally, her eyes turned to me. Behind her delicate gold glasses sat razor-sharp blue eyes, and I understood immediately that this woman was neither senile nor unintelligent. "Brad, introduce me to your friend." she chided him, placing a slightly shaky hand on his shoulder.
Brad turned to me with a smile. "Evelyn, this is Julia. She's a friend of mine from home, and came along with me this trip."
"She looks awfully young." Evelyn sniffed disapprovingly.
Tired of being talked about like a slab of meat, I stepped forward onto the threshold. "I am young, and he’s practically ancient. But he has managed to make this trip so far without his walker, and I am still fresh-faced and innocent, so there is hope for us yet." I kept my face blank and eyes innocent and hoped she wouldn't smack me with a spare oxygen tank.
She burst out laughing, her face a sea of delighted wrinkles. "Now where are my manners, come in!" She held open the door and a burst of wonderfully cool air hit my face. I walked through the doorway; she energetically shook my hand as I passed and introduced herself as Evelyn. She scurried around us and told us to go to the living room, an older room with plain cream sofas and lots and lots of afghans lying around. The woman apparently crocheted in her spare time, and apparently had lots of spare time. The huge TV, an impressive flat screen that made mine at home seem pathetic, was on a cooking show. She picked up a gigantic remote and turned it off.
"Brad, I have Coke for you. Julia, what can I get you to drink? I have tea, water, and Coke."
"Water will be fine, thank you."
She turned and entered the kitchen, a lemon-yellow room with grayish-green linoleum just off the living area. I looked at Brad. He had settled in the only recliner in the room and already had the leg rest up and was turning back on the TV.
"She just turned that off!" I whispered, not wanting to piss off Mother Hubbard.
"That's because she wants to “visit”. I don't visit; she knows that. The woman pays $8 extra a month to get ESPN just for me. I'm not going to insult her by not watching it when I come." He found the channel he wanted, and sports babble filled the quiet house. At the sound of Brad's voice, a series of high-pitched yelps came from a back room.