We had planned for it for months, 8 friends, who mostly lived in different parts of the country, were going to meet up in Las Vegas watch football, gamble, and have fun. We had not seen much of each other since the start of the pandemic and now we were going to change that.
I arrived on Thursday meeting two others, and the other five were going to arrive on Friday. We were all in our thirties, some married, a couple divorced, others single. We met playing sports, united by fantasy football, disciplined by weightlifting as adults, if nothing else we were physically imposing, but, really, most of us kept to ourselves and we were just looking for a great time.
I had recently broken up with a live in girlfriend during the pandemic. The walls got a little too tight. I needed this week to be around trusted friends who I could be honest with and could not wait for the weekend to start. My best friend in the group was driving in from California on Friday and I flew in from NYC on Thursday.
I met up with my two other friends for dinner. We laid out our plans for the weekend, made fun of the others not there, and then headed out to the bar in the lobby. After a couple of drinks, we were having a good enough time that people started to introduce themselves and talking to us. It is a great thing about Las Vegas that you get to meet people from all over the world in such a relaxed atmosphere.
We were still at the bar when two Black women around our age from Texas came over to talk us and they were a lot of fun. Told us they were celebrating their mother’s retirement and one of my friends was flirting hard with one of them. I did not think much of it. Until the mother showed up.
I have yet to find a cure for my attraction to older Black females, certainly not ones that resemble Pam Grier. She was tall, curvy, happy, verbal, and old (61!). She put me at ease immediately. She sat down and joined the group. About an half an hour in she made contact, slightly touching my right wrist. Shit! How did she know? The group started breaking up with everyone focused on their big weekend. Before she left, she made a eye contact for three seconds and suggested we grab a quick drink tomorrow before all my friends arrived late afternoon. Unable to quench my attraction, I responded with a quick “of course” because I desperately wanted to and what was the harm.
We met around one, most of my friends would arrive around four. Before she arrived, I tried to convince myself that my attraction the night before was jet lag, anxiety about the weekend, or an overreaction. Nope. She showed up in jeans (to be honest with weird jewels on them but still hot) and a white blouse. I stared and so did others.
The conversation picked right up. When you have an overwhelming, palpable attraction to someone do they feel it too? It was more than lust. She was about to collect her first social security check, but at close to thirty years her junior, I was holding myself back from licking every inch of her body. Does it not make sense that, even if she did share it, she would at least feel this immense attraction? She did. Both.
It was her idea to head up to the room after I missed several of her hints. I can only imagine what the family thought when we started to kiss in the elevator. By the time I got the door to the room opened, my shirt and pants were off and it was on. We never got to the bed. We laughed and I thought that was it: a Las Vegas quickie— nope.
I had plans to go to dinner around 7 and to meet my best friend around 6:30 at the bar. That was the plan, but my friend from Texas had others and she convinced me that she was right. After lounging around naked for hours, she straddled me, with patience and tenderness, she subsumed my dick intermittently for an hour, at times I was in pain, by the end I was, without question, hypnotized. I never met up with my friends that weekend. In fact, I almost never left the room. I did get food, collect my friends luggage (the look on her daughters’ faces as I collected the bags was indescribable), and one time went for a walk to get rid of a cramp.
I sent texts describing a made up illness, “it’s like covid, but it is not that. Just need to isolate myself”. I did feel somewhat bad about not hanging out with my friends. But mostly, I fucked. We talked, explored, and fucked. Then did it again. Was it an unique attraction or lust that we had for each other? Maybe. But I am not sure if we had met in NYC or Dallas that we would have connected— too many taboos. But in Vegas? It was pure magic.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/t6shui/house_money_mf
Dm
Dm