Author’s Note: Thanks for reading and your comments and votes. We’ll be in Vegas a bit longer because I believe this is where the heart of Kat and John are and provides a chance for their best development, but the opening book of this story should reach its conclusion in the next several chapters. Please enjoy.
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re still this hard,” Kat said through heavy breath as we fucked standing up in the steam shower. Her hand caressed the side of my face and ran through my hair as I deliberately drove in and out of her.
“Teasing you also meant I was teasing myself,” I said, conveniently ignoring the three other women I had sex with in front of her that night. “I need to fuck you a lot. If I don’t get to? Well, I’m going to get it, no matter what it takes.”
It was just after 11 a.m. on Saturday morning. We hadn’t gone to sleep, instead just using cocaine to keep us going as we tried to satisfy our lust after a day filled with edging and delayed gratification. The hot water beat down against us, and our bodies moved in tandem that revealed a deep intimacy between us.
“Just give me one more load of cum, pretty please,” Kat said softly.
“Tell me what turned you on most last night,” I said.
“That you got three beautiful, normal girls to fuck for money,” she said. “They were willing to let you do anything you wanted to their bodies just because you paid them.”
I grunted in agreement and picked up the pace. I loved turning girls out. It was such a basic thing to do, but I couldn’t help it. Plenty of times I had used financial leverage to get in a girl’s pants. A couple times I had even helped them get into porn. Despite Kat’s recent pledge to only fuck me, I wondered how much the thought of fucking for money really turned her on.
“I did make them whores,” I said, rhythmically fucking Kat and kissing her neck as I talked. “And I made you watch me own those whores.”
The way Kat ran her hands across me, trying to find a way to pull me inside her harder told me how horny she still was.
“I’ve never been so turned on,” she said.
“Because I made you watch?” I probed. “Or because you wanted to be the one on your knees fucking for $2,000?” I moved my hand around her throat.
“Both,” she panted.
“You really are a whore at heart,” I said.
That pushed Kat over the top. She nearly doubled over, convulsing in a powerful orgasm that rode on for a half a minute. Already halfway on the ground, she got to her knees.
“Cum all over me,” she said in a begging voice. “Treat me like a whore. Shoot your load all over my pretty face and show me that I’m just a whore.”
She squeezed my balls and started jerking my cock near her face. I closed my eyes and fantasized about Kat working as an escort. I questioned whether it was sincere or just acting, but the thought turned me on so much, I didn’t care. My cock erupted, but since it was the sixth time I’d cum recently, a sorry trickle of sperm came out. Kat licked my cock like an ice cream cone, eating the small load of cum greedily.
“Your cum tastes so good,” she said. “You really should let me drink it more.”
We uncoupled and dried off. We put on our robes, emblazoned with the Bellagio’s iconic B logo, and planned the day. I checked my phone and typed off a quick text message about my afternoon plans for us.
“I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’m ready to go,” I said. “I feel fresh.”
“Me too!” Kat said in a bubbly, vivacious voice. “I’m starving! Which is weird because we have hit the coke really hard.”
“Our superpower is partying,” I chuckled.
“And fucking,” she added.
It was a gorgeous late morning, so we decided to walk the Strip and pick up lunch along the way. I picked out a pleated tennis skirt and tight tank top for Kat, and while she didn’t wear panties, I spared her the butt plug to give her ass a rest. We left the villa hand-in-hand, an improbable bounce in our steps.
We indulged our appetites first, stopping at Sadelle’s for a quick brunch. The food was satisfying, and the bloody mary and mimosas we drank kept the buzz going. I was feeling playful.
“So,” I began, looking at Kat with a mischievous smile, “do you really think about hooking, or is that just fantasy dirty talk to turn me on?”
Her fleeting look of being taken aback was belied when she bit her lip.
“It’s not just dirty talk,” she said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “It’s probably one of the two or three things I get off to most often.”
“Really?” I said reflexively.
“When it happened here,” she said, referring to the guy who had mistaken her for a working girl at the Cosmo some years before, “it made me feel so… powerful. There was no submission in it. I realized that being attractive enough to have someone want to pay you? It is a huge ego boost for me. But it’s also just naughty, and that’s a turn-on, too.”
“But you never acted on it,” I said, though it came out as more of a question.
“I was focused on my career,” she said. She hesitated then paused.
“What?” I pushed her. “There’s something else.”
“I could have,” she confessed. She paused and let it hang in the air between us for a moment. My cock stirred. “But I didn’t. There were just so many reasons it was a bad idea.”
“That I can definitely understand,” I agreed. “But how could you have?”
“You have to swear never to mention this to anyone,” she said. “I mean, seriously. Cross your heart. Pinky promise. You can’t say a word.”
“I think by now you know I’m good at keeping your secrets,” I said.
“When Kelly left TV, she didn’t just go to be a trophy wife,” Kat said, almost inaudibly against the buzz of the restaurant. “She runs a very high end, very discreet escort agency. B-list models, porn stars — like that one you met in LA was one of her girls — and even some TV people.”
My jaw dropped in genuine shock. But, as I let Kat’s words sink in, it made sense. I remember the conversation with April Snow and how she had mentioned Kelly was a mentor and “manager.” It all clicked into place.
“I totally didn’t see that coming,” I laughed. “You really never took her up on it? Not even dabbled?”
Kat laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you,” she said. “Trust me. I’ve been tempted before, especially when I was younger. It actually is a pretty impressive operation.”
“I bet it’s fascinating,” I said, but I dropped it there, filing the knowledge away for later.
* * *
After brunch, we walked up the Strip and soaked in the sun. Kat’s tennis skirt was brazenly short and frequently flipped up her thighs, coming dangerously close to revealing her bare ass. I loved the way passersby ogled her. Her nipples poked through the fabric of her tank top.
We walked up the Wynn and watched the waterfall show at the Lake of Dreams. We strolled the Venetian’s canals and window-shopped. We kept up a brisk pace, and the exercise and fresh air felt invigorating.
“I can’t believe how nice it is today!” I exclaimed.
Kat squeezed my hand. “It’s perfect,” she said. “The sun makes me want to go to the pool. What do you have planned for us?”
I grinned. “We’ve got a cabana at the pool,” I said.
“You know me too well,” she said.
We redoubled our pace to get back to the Bellagio and change into swimsuits.
“I almost feel sober,” she said with a laugh.
“We need to change that,” I said, popping a bottle of Champagne and pouring two large glasses.
Kat stood next to me and cut four generous lines on the bar top.
“No sleep means we’re fully committed to partying today,” she said with a laugh and snorted up the coke with the efficiency of a vacuum. I followed suit and handed her a glass of Champagne. We toasted and drank.
“This is my favorite one so far,” Kat said. I showed the bottle of multi-vintage Krug.
“Never a bad choice,” I said. “And I appreciate that you have a good palate.”
Kat rubbed her hand across my chest. “Coke makes me so horny all the time,” she said. She turned and flipped up her skirt. “A quickie?”
I patted her ass, then let a finger wander between her cheeks, grazing her asshole, before savoring her slippery pussy lips.
“I love how wet you stay for me,” I said.
“You have an effect on my body that no one ever has,” she said. “And you know what a high sex drive I have. Please give me your dick, daddy.”
I patted her butt. “We don’t have time, Kitty Kat,” I said. “I have a surprise for you at the pool.”
She turned around with wide eyes. “What now?” she exclaimed.
“Put on the green bikini,” I said. “You’ll find out very soon.”
We changed. I had selected the green bikini expressly to take Kat out of her comfort zone. The top consisted of small triangles, which would let the undersides of her B-cup breasts to show, and the bottom was a Brazilian thong.
Kat reappeared and twirled for me, holding the sheer bathing suit cover up like wings around her shoulders, and said, “You want to show me off, don’t you?”
I grinned, and we headed to the pool. I led Kat by the hand, knowing exactly our destination. As we approached the cabana, I let Kat walk ahead of me and pointed her in the right direction. I lagged back a few steps to see her reaction.
“Hi, darling!” Kelly said, coming out from behind the curtains. She looked refined in a blue one-piece and large sun hat.
“Kelly!” Kat squealed and ran to her. They embraced. “What are you doing here?”
Kelly laughed. “I wasn’t going to miss your last trip to Vegas as a single woman,” she teased.
The girls caught up, chatting excitedly, and I admired Kelly’s initiative at stocking the cabana with fruit and cheese trays and plenty of Champagne. I poured Kat a glass and refreshed Kelly’s. They clinked glasses, and I excused myself, letting the girls talk while I took a quick swim.
Watching the talent at a Vegas pool on a beautiful day is always a treat. I never tired of admiring the thong-clad asses and the myriad styles of tits, from naturals to tasteful implants to pornstar wannabe flotation devices. The voyeurism in this was enhanced knowing the setting: Vegas, a place people came with the intent to blow off steam, to do something crazy. By watching carefully, noting behavior, alcohol consumption, and signs of drug use, you could maximize your chances of having a really wild time.
It was also nice to be relieved from the pressure of having to hunt for a potential hookup and simply admire the scenery. I left the girls for about twenty minutes before returning to the cabana. When I did, it was just in time to see Kelly passing the coke bullet back to Kat.
Kelly smiled at me. “There really is nothing better than skiing in Vegas on a hot day, is there, John?” she said.
“Especially not when you’re skiing with two beautiful women,” I said, pouring myself a glass of Champagne.
I sat down next to Kat on the comfortable cabana couch and kissed her. The small touches like that felt so natural with her.
“So I hear Kat let you in on a little secret of mine,” Kelly said.
I nodded. “Your secret is safe with me,” I said.
“Are you sure?” she asked seriously.
“I’ll never utter a word,” I assured her. “It’s none of my business, and it sounds like an awful lot of fun.”
“It is a lot of fun,” Kelly giggled. “And I appreciate and put a lot of trust in your discretion.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind hearing how it works,” I admitted.
“Not here,” she said, “but later maybe I’ll fill you in.”
The afternoon passed leisurely. Kat indulged my desire to show her off by parading on the pool deck from time to time. She had no shortage of admirers, which made it more delicious when I would meet her and make out with her in front of the pool crowd. Kelly enjoyed a number of flirtations and clearly relished the attention she commanded. She was worthy of it. At one point, teasing a group of college-aged guys who had a cabana next to us, she disappeared behind the curtains. She emerged a few minutes later, with slightly watery eyes, licking her lips.
“He said he had good stamina,” Kelly said matter-of-factly. “I told him I bet he couldn’t last five minutes in my mouth.”
“You are such a slut,” Kat said playfully.
“You’re just jealous I got to swallow his huge load of cum,” she said.
We all hit the coke regularly throughout the afternoon to keep our buzzes steady. And, at one point, masseuses arrived to give the girls massages in the cabana. I dozed on a lounge chair briefly. It was a break from the frenetic pace we had kept up since landing, but it was thoroughly enjoyable. After their massages, we went to the villa. Kelly’s luggage had been delivered and awaited her in the second bedroom.
“I’m only staying one night,” she told Kat. “And you’re on your own for dinner. I’m here to find some dick, not to interfere with you lovebirds.”
We took our time getting ready for dinner. Kat and Kelly caught up. Then, as Kat got dressed and did her hair and makeup, Kelly and I chatted. I was curious about her escort service.
“Essentially, it’s just a database of girls and clients,” she said. “It’s hosted on the dark web, but you can’t access it unless someone refers you, and I give out the address. All identities are real. Everyone has a file and has to submit to STD testing.”
“Seems sensible enough,” I said. “But don’t the clients push back on that?”
She shook her head. “I’ve built this over five years, gradually, only by word-of-mouth,” she said. “I never have more than six girls working for me at a time.”
“How did it start out?” I asked.
“I stumbled into it, really,” Kelly said. “I had been out of TV for a year or so, and I was happy but bored. I was at lunch with one of my housewife friends and asked her how she kept herself entertained. Well, it turned out she was an escort on the side. It was an occasional thing, but the way she described it got me thinking. It seemed haphazard and needlessly risky, the way she did business via an internet ad. I thought, I can do better than this.
“So, long story short, I realized that with access to a lot of wealthy people — and, let’s face it, a lot of them have vices, especially when it comes to sex and paying for it — I could build something that was safer and smarter. So I did. My friend introduced me to a couple girlfriends who also worked as escorts. Or sugar babies, if they had a problem with the idea of hooking. And I became their business manager. Not a pimp. Business manager. I’m good at it, and we’ve built something unique, I think.”
“It sounds like there is a lot to unpack here,” I said. “It’s fascinating to me.”
“If you’re really interested, I’ll share some things with you,” she said. “But for now, it looks like your dinner date is ready.”
I looked up and saw Kat. She had gone the extra mile, doing extensive TV-style makeup, teasing her hair out, and wearing a form-fitting red cocktail dress with a ruffle across the neck. She carried a matching red, patent leather clutch.
“You make my heart skip a beat,” I told her as I moved in for a kiss.
“I feel like a princess,” she said.
“I’m starving,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We said farewell to Kelly and headed to the casino. I loved parading Kat through the Bellagio on our walk to Picasso, our dinner destination. We stopped at the Conservancy for a photo. For fun, we put down $100 each on one roulette spin. I just wanted to see Kat exaggeratedly bend over and walk off on my arm. That was worth the $200.
At Picasso, on a lovely evening, we got a prime table on the patio, adjacent to the Bellagio Fountains. It could not have been a better setting for an intimate and delicious meal. I had always liked Picasso. It didn’t reinvent itself. It was a classic and stuck to its strengths. The execution in the kitchen was consistently perfect. The wine pairings always shined. It was an effortless meal, made even better by my companion. The moments when Kat and I could be like a normal couple were my favorite, and I occasionally wondered what that meant for our future.
But that night wasn’t about the future. It was about carnal lust for the present. And Nicole had helped me arrange a surprise that would fulfill a fantasy so great, I never knew how badly I craved it. It had been her idea, but I immediately acquiesced. After dinner, with the help of Nicole’s accomplice on the Picasso staff, Kat and I were allowed to watch the fountain show from a secluded corner at the far side of the patio, out of sight from any tables and only visible from the Strip side of the Bellagio Fountains if you were looking for us, which you almost certainly weren’t.
The show lasted about four minutes and took place every fifteen minutes at that time of night on the weekends. We had about thirty minutes undisturbed. I put my arms around Kat as we waited for the fountain show to start. I kissed her neck, and she tried to push me off.
“No one can see us, baby,” I said. “I set this up for us.”
“You did?” she said.
I nodded and pushed her forward, so she could support herself on the railing overlooking the lake. Overcome with desire, I pushed the red dress up her hips, her nakedness on full display to me. I hurriedly unbuckled my pants and buried my full length in her cunt. We both sighed. It felt so good to be connected like this in such a risky position. Until the fountains started, we were the show to anyone watching.
I pulled Kat back to me and said, “This is such a huge fantasy of mine. But I’m not going to fuck your pussy. You’re going to take it up the ass like a good little slut, do you understand?”
She simply moaned. Her hand fumbled for my cock, pushing it out of her sopping wet cunt. She helped me line up the head against her tight asshole, and I eased past her sphincter. I slowly bottomed out inside her, and we started an easy rhythm on a very public anal session. After a couple minutes, we both nearly jumped out of our skins when the fountains came to life, accompanied by Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon.”
I picked up my pace, and my cock had never felt so hard in my life. The fountains boomed around us, and we occasionally picked up a light spray from the water. Kat was in near hysterics as I pounded her ass.
“I’m your anal slut,” she said, barely audibly because she kept her voice low enough to not disturb the tables a mere twenty feet away around the curve of the patio. “This is the hottest fuck I’ve ever had. I don’t know how you do this to me. I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum!”
Her ass clenched around me, and I felt my balls ready to erupt. The sensory overload of the situation simply was too much. We were standing inside a Vegas postcard, and we overlaid our personal porn film onto it. It was over the top, and I couldn’t resist succumbing to the pleasure. I grunted and emptied myself into Kat’s ass. It was a huge load. She moaned in delight as it spread inside her. The fountain show was hitting its grand finale, so we hastily put ourselves back together.
Kat turned around and kissed me urgently.
“That was the hardest I’ve cum in my whole life,” she said. “How do you do this to me? I love you, John. I can’t imagine how any moment could get better than this.”
I grinned at her, still tipsy from dinner and drunk on the exhilaration of the moment.
“Maybe it can’t get better,” I said, “but I’m willing to see if we can’t push the limit.”