My first night in Vegas on my latest trip was quite interesting. I was bored, still a little jetlagged, but also keen to ensure that the five star hotel with the awesome view didn’t go to waste. I jumped on Grindr and started chatting with a married guy who was killing time while his wife gambled. I didn’t realize until he got to the room that he was pretty intoxicated. What I remember most was him in front of me as he unsteadily stood and rubbed the fur on my chest with a face showing wonder that is normally only reserved for experiences involving the appearance of heavenly being (angels or aliens depending on your theosophical leanings). I asked him to write up his story….
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I was in Las Vegas for a convention, having traveled there with my wife. We were staying at THE Hotel at Mandalay Bay, which is the southernmost resort on the Strip, and one of the most luxurious, with an Asian Colonial feel to it. I am happily married, but bisexual. I had a good existence “out of the closet” in my younger years, but have settled into a monogamous life as a rule now. This isn’t to say that I don’t have a pretty rich fantasy life, and that I haven’t strayed a few times while traveling. There’s just something about traveling. And then there’s just something about Las Vegas. Alcohol + Vegas = Mischief.
Late on my first evening in Vegas, I had been drinking for quite a long time, and was bored with the gambling that my wife was enjoying so much. She told me to go find myself someplace comfortable to have a drink if I wanted. I had my phone for entertainment. I had discovered Grindr a couple of months before my trip to Vegas. In my small hometown, however, nothing came of it, really. I usually just turned it on to see who was around and if I knew anybody. I was curious to see how many guys would be on it in a large travel destination like Vegas, so I turned it on. I had had quite a lot to drink and I’m sure that meant my usual shyness and reserve were disappearing. I posted my picture, but I don’t think I really expected anything to happen. I don’t usually act out my fantasies.
A handsome picture that caught my eye had the label, “Aussie top on holiday.” My first thought was that this would mean getting in to things a little deeper than I intended. Pun intended. However, when your message appeared, I was hooked and intrigued by your chat. It began casually, but you communicated that it was getting late and if anything was going to come of it, it had better be now. You gave me your room number, and heart beating out of my chest, I headed upstairs.
I knocked on your door in absolute terror. What the hell was I getting myself into? However, when you opened the door, you looked to be all I could hope for, and I felt a little more at ease. By that I mean, firstly, you had a handsome and friendly face with a warm, welcoming smile. That’s important, especially if I were going to let myself into your clutches. Secondly, you were taller than me—something that I’ve not really experienced with any of my partners. That, along with a warm, but firm paternal manner, meant that I would trust and obey you.
Immediately you took of my clothes, which made me feel a bit panicky and self-conscious again. But you took control, so that I had nothing to be anxious about. Every time you said, “there’s a good boy!” I relaxed a bit more. Your body was just as I love a man’s body, with all the manly accoutrements of hair and meat. Quickly, you had me move down to your cock.
I had not had a cock in my mouth in three years, and never one so big. I was so embarrassed to find myself grazing its great girth with my teeth. My technique was developed on much thinner cocks and I had to readjust! Uncut cocks were also rare in my past, but they are my favorite. I love the soft, soft heads. You showed me the technique of pulling your foreskin forward so that I could gently nibble it in front of the head. I was in heaven with your beautiful cock with its delicious, manly taste. Such a rare delicacy for me.
I think we both knew that I was at your mercy then, and I became a bit afraid at what would come next. While I might have dinked around with a bit of j/o and oral a few times over the past ten yeas, I’d only been fucked one other time this century—fairly quickly and with a much smaller penis. “Can I fuck you?” you asked. “Yes,” I heard myself say. Not that it was going to be easy. I apologized as my body remained somewhat uncooperative as you placed me on my chest on the bed, arms forward, kneeling with my ass in the air, and you pressed and pressed against my tight hole. It hurt so bad that I had to keep tears from running out of my eyes. At the same time, it was something I had fantasized about so much that I was going to see it through.
When you entered me, it felt as if my whole torso would explode, and my memory is just a blend of pain and pleasure. I tried to grab my cock, but you wouldn’t let me. I realized that my pleasure would come from giving you pleasure, and that was good. This was about the time that my phone beeped with a message from my wife that she was going to bed. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Soon, as I had seemed to open up more, you moved me to the chair by the window so that we could both look out at the glittering Las Vegas Strip while you pounded me ever more forcefully. It was finally getting to that point where the pleasure sensations took over the pain. I was so turned on at being in the window like that, looking at all the lights and hotels and wondering if anyone was having the sort of experience that I was.
At about the point where I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, you said, “Thirty more strokes.” You then really pounded my ass while you counted. “One!” “Two!” “Three!” with your cock going absolutely all the way into my stomach each time. While it hurt like a motherfucker, knowing that you would finish at thirty made it exciting, and I knew I could bear it.
You then invited me into the shower and had me get on my knees before you. You gave me a bar of soap and instructed me to wash and caress parts of your body—your nipples and balls especially. I recall the swirls of the soap in your body hair. You rubbed your cock at the same time, next to my face. Oh, what a cock! I still think about that cock! You shot your cum onto me just as I had wanted you to.
You let me clean up a moment, suggested I not go to my room with wet hair, handed me your website address, and then gave me the nicest, gentlest kiss as you sent me on my way. My wife was sound asleep in our room and soon I was, too. The next day, hard as a rock, I would fuck her while sweet pain throbbed through my ass with every thrust.
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It turned out that he is also a little bit of an exhibitionist….he has some faceless videos on X-Tube…which his wife doesn’t know about.