**This is my first erotic literature piece I have written. Please feel free to comment with any comments, or suggestions. I wrote this piece and am unsure if I want to continue it, so I left with a cliffhanger. Let me know your thoughts! :)**
Bachelorette parties. I know what you are thinking, a group of girls coming together, and exploring the town in unison with drinks in tow. You would be mostly right, but this particular event did not follow suit. I will forever remember this party being simple the springboard to something much larger.
A childhood friend of mine decided to go to a concert of one of her favorite bands in order to celebrate her last weeks of being single. Two weeks before the wedding, casino concert venue was within 15 minutes from her town, with plenty of wineries and bars in-between. No brainer.
My friend knew from the start that I was not a fan of the music group, so she graciously gave me the out of not attending the concert, but spending time with her the rest of her bridesmaids before the concert would be more than welcomed. She also knew that I was not acquainted with any of the bridesmaids that she got to know while away at college, so she also gave me the easy out of getting to know them, as well as enjoying my evening. I graciously accepted, and had a wonderful time with the entire bridal party tasting wine throughout the day, and carrying on from establishment to establishment.
It eventually came time to the concert, where I would part ways with the rest of the party, but perhaps come back together after the concert, depending how they felt. They all encouraged me to attend, but I just did not feel like bringing down their excitement. Nothing worse than being the neutral person in party of six electrified people.
In that time, I figured I had at least three hours to spend the night before potentially being reintroduced to the group. I went back to my hotel room within the casino, and elected to lay down. I unpacked more, and noticed that I brought my best night out outfit for the evening, and it would be a shame if no one had seen it. Faux black leather leggings, matching black bodysuit with lace and fringe – intimately showcasing small sections of skin through lace including my silhouette, as well as a pair of essential black-strap pumps. I included a black faux leather jacket due to the fact that it was colder on the casino floor. With gold jewelry matching the zipper of my jacket, I was ready to make a statement.
I was walking the casino floor, looking for something to pass the time. Amongst the neon, the flashes, and other events – nothing caught my attention. I didn’t really feel like yanking on a slot machine or drinking alone, so I looked further for something bold and interesting. The tickets to the concert were around $200, so I decided to try my luck and go to a blackjack table. Naturally I look for the most attractive dealer, and hope he is alone.
I look around, and don’t necessarily see anyone that I would think is attractive, but I see a man tending his table much more efficiently and with care than any of the other dealers. I could only see from his hand motions and gait that he was someone that took great pride in their work. For some reason, his attention to detail and purpose instantly drew me to him, even not seeing his face of any features. I fix my hair, take a big breath followed by a drink of water from a glass with dripping condensation, and approach the table with flutters not knowing what is going to happen next. Why am I getting butterflies? I don’t even know this man…
I approach the table and clumsily misjudge where the chair is, and do my best to correct my seating. I thought a benefit to having working out your ass would be to make it easier to sit down, perhaps not… could be the drinks too… or the shoes… I will admit, I was basically doomed for this to happen.
I look up and see a good-looking man in his maybe upper-40’s/early-50’s, smirking at my recent misfortune. He was a handsome man, rich dark brown skin, deep brown eyes, and a proportioned mustache. His hair was mostly black, aside from some character defining grey hairs that did not impact his attractive demeanor. His shorter hair style matched the square head shape perfectly.
I think I am looking at him in awe, but probably look love-dumb. He looks at me and says jokingly “take a seat ma’am, safely…” I chuckle to myself in embarrassment and return a comeback clumsily and say “well, fix your chair…” (looks down at nametag) “…Shavar…” He laughs and moves his left hand, inviting me to sit. He then says, “I see you have brown hair, and some blonde highlights – so it must mean that was the blonde in you…” I roll my eyes at his lame joke.
I look down to get my money out of my clutch to enter the game. As I look down, I observe his build. He is probably 6’3” tall, but unfortunately his dress shirt masks a lot of what his body type is, but I can see that he is broad, and stout and tapered the waist– with the seams in his shoulders lifting past his shoulder blades towards his neck.
I get the money out of my clutch and place $50 on the table, to which he clicks his tongue on the inside of his teeth stating “you know, you can get a lot more for your money elsewhere in this casino…” Intrigued I press and ask what stroke of luck would allow me to win big. Shavar responds “there is a luxury bar that opened last week and has good prices at the moment since a lot of the clientele are at the concert. I was thinking about heading there after my shift, since I haven’t been in to check it out.”
Intrigued, in my mind it’s obvious to accept his offer to have a drink that evening. My friends were off seeing a concert that I had no interest in, so why not get to know someone more and maybe slink away during another event that I’m “not interested in…” I ask him “if I say yes, you promise to be there…?” like a sheepish schoolgirl. I don’t know what it is, but with this man, I seem to have regressed in my couth towards men I have established over 15 years of dating.
Shavar was facing away tending to the table so I could only see his side-profile and stated in a low and sensual tone, “Yeah, I’ll be there…” with a smile and glance. The glance and smile while not making eye-contact made it seem like he already figured me out, and what he knew was more than likely going to happen later in the evening. I didn’t even know what was going to happen, as I was just doing whatever I could to stay in his orbit. He then turned to me, I must have looked like a fawn in his gaze. As he turned he said, “I will tell you what, the place named after an animal that is often found in tropical forests. If you can find the bar, you will see me there in 20 minutes. Don’t ask anybody what it is, just find it and I will be there. If you are not there in 20 minutes, the drink is off…”
I didn’t know what that meant, but for whatever reason, I trusted everything he said. I seem to wonder if the age-gap made me trust him more upfront. I told him that I would be seeing him later, and walked away slowly – but with purpose. I wanted him to make sure that he was wasn’t wasting his time. If only my heels weren’t on a carpeted floor, I could have made a better exit…
I look around the walls of the casino, attempting to make out the bar where I will be hopefully be filling my evening with. 16 minutes later, I can’t find this fucking bar. My heart starts to race, and I have that mental fretting when the clock is running out. I keep looking up, sign after sign, and I see the words ‘LPRD/LNG.’ I think to myself “son of a bitch tried to trick me…” already intrigued with his sense of humor any ability to toy with me. I go to the bar and order the quickest drink I can so I can look like I had been there, and figured out his riddle early. A simple Viognier.
I sit down at the bar, and eagerly look over my shoulder seeking a glance of the man that somehow just talked me into a drink after a 30 second conversation. The bar certainly is nice. The wood fixtures are a strong and deep brown, and the seats are a plush black leather, and perfectly toned soft lighting. The staff are all attractive and have a sophisticated demeanor. It certainly lives up to the description of luxury.
I continue to look at the clock on the wall, which states it was 28 minutes since the bet was made. I am starting to figure that he was not interested, or just set me up. Did I pick the wrong bar? As I was packing up my phone and getting ready to swig my wine and leave, I see him enter. It is apparent that he had an outfit change. A simple tailored black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, black dress pants, black belt and matching black buckled shoes – both with gold buckles (matching my outfit). I take in what I was not able to see before because of the blackjack table, he last long legs and walks with a confident stride. This outfit is substantiating everything I earlier assumed about him. He must be at 7” taller than me, but maybe a little shorter with the 4.5” heels I have on. Even though the room is packed with immensely attractive men and women, Shavar to me is the prize.
He walked in and instantly knew everyone and shared interactions with all the employees gesturing towards me as I looked down. He nodded his head and approached me. Everyone seemed to enjoy him being in the bar, and responded well to his interactions.
He sits down at the bar, and I am too shy to speak. It seems like everything he does is at least two-steps ahead of me. He eventually look over at me, smiles, waits about four seconds and asks, “well, how are you…?” From there, the conversation evolves. I explain that I am there for my friend’s bachelorette party, and how I ended up at his table – I won’t bore you with the repeat details. He takes a genuine interest in me and asks questions that show he was actively listening to what I was saying, which is something that does not occur often in my experience. I get to know him as well, and fall even more infatuated. He is 54-years-old (21 years older than me!), and recently left his business that he co-founded, which was selling gym equipment. He decided his passion was not in the work he was doing, and his partners were open to buying him out. In order to keep employed and try something new, he wanted to work in the casino where he sometimes took clients. It seemed like a strange transition, but he appeared to enjoy it.
Once conversation flowed, it is like you couldn’t stop me. I must have spoken every other word in the dictionary out of my matte pink lips. He has this demeanor where I almost automatically trusted everything about him. I continue to rim the lip of my glass, just taking him in. I selfishly don’t want him to leave the casino, so I do the unthinkable. I invite him into my room. He responds “I can do that, just give me a minute…” Shavar gets up and leans in to talk to the bartender, to which the bartender nods and waives him off. Shavar comes up to me and says “let’s go…” I later found out that he paid for my glass of wine, and enough tip to cover another drink in addition to the tip. Did he pay with mind powers or something? No money was exchanged. What is with this guy?
We start walking out of the elevator towards the elevator. I was on his left side, to which he grabbed my waist and gently moved me so I was walking closest to the wall. I inquired “…and why did you do that…?” to which he responded “my grandad told me that if you walk with a woman and she is closest to the road or the busy side of a building, you are advertising her for someone else…” It may not seem like a lot, but this increased my sex drive, and I was determined I was going to fuck this man. I attempted to make a gesture to get closer to him. I grabbed the original $50 out of my clutch (in order to pay him for my drink), and attempted to sneak my hand in his pocket. I managed to get him his pocket and the back of my hand grazed something, but I wasn’t sure what. I just wrote it off as something else he had stored.
He laughed and took the cash out, took my hand and placed the cash neatly folded and said “please, don’t do that again…” I followed, and placed the money into my purse again, to which he then wrapped his hand around my waist. We eventually enter the elevator and I am further engrossed in his presence. All alone with this man. Just him and I. I notice by body language start to change. Deep breaths, an increased heartbeat that I am sure would make my tits move if I didn’t have them pushed up. He looks over, he knows. I can feel my pussy getting wetter in anticipation.
He is not getting away. If I have one thrill tonight, this is the one. My friend and her bachelorette party are a distant memory at this point.
I face him, put my arms around his neck and lean in slowly. We can both hear and feel each other’s breath. I go to kiss his neck, with my only my lower lip meeting skin and the elevator door dings. I back up, look coyly and innocently with my green eyes and simple state “…oops” while grinning and winking then walking away. It is now my turn to toy with him.
I saw the look in his eyes as I walked away, and they were filled with impulse. As I walk away I hope to hear him walking behind me as the elevator door closes – but I don’t. I end at my room, and wait for a minute and he doesn’t show. I played the game, and lost.
I sit around in my outfit leaning over my bed completely sullen for about 15 minutes. I suddenly hear a knock at the door. I fix my hair (again) and approach the door. I look through the peephole and see a white shirt, so I assume it is something in regards to the bachelorette party as the guy in the elevator ditched me.
I open the door and there he is standing, and without my shoes I am staring up at him. He is wearing a different shirt. Another tailored shite dress shirt. “I thought you were staff…” to which he responded “technically, I am a staff here at the casino/hotel…” I roll my eyes and question “how do you know what room I was? You didn’t even get out of the elevator…” to which he responded “there are circle mirrors in the corner of these halls so staff don’t run into clients or each other when making deliveries. I simply waited to see where you went, and went downstairs. I had enough of the games.
I grab his belt buckle, and pull him into my room. He shuts the door as I pull him. I left my hands and show him my palms. “What do you see, Shavar?” to which he responds “…your hands…?” I simply state “wrong, no money…” and reach my hand down the front of his pants, besting him with his earlier comment. My wrist scrapes on the sharp angles of the belt buckle, but I pay no attention. As I navigate down, he whispers in my ear “let me make this easier for you…” to which he unbuckled his belt and undid his waist clasp/lowered zipper, giving my wrist some slack.
I slowly pull his pants down which exposes a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. I attempt not to look TOO eager, so I don’t look down immediately. I simply put my head on his chest and play with his waistband and eventually ask “May I? Please?” He nods his head in approval, to which I give him a soft kiss on his full lips. I look down and see a preview of what is to come. I think to myself, I definitely grazed that cock in his pocket…
I slowly squat down, and as I lower, I remove his briefs. First thoughts, Shavar has pubic hair, but it is meticulously maintained and appears perfect. I am not a huge pubic hair fan, but Shavar’s looks like it just belongs. Black hair, with some grey introduced. I kiss the top of his shaft that connects to his body. I hear him moan above me, which turns me on even further. Time to further explore.
I keep lowering his briefs, attempting to expose his dick. I lower his boxers and start to see the width of him. If I had to guess, he appeared to be just under 2” wide, which is a GREAT start. I continue to lower his boxers to introduce his cock to me. I keep lowering, lowering, and lowering and there is no end to his dick. I pass his balls/sack and think I may be getting close, but I was wrong. I take a glance at his beautiful full balls that must have been waiting for me all evening. I give them a finger-tip stroke before getting lower, simply acknowledging them.
Finally, I reach where his tip starts to change color, and I know I am close. So far, this is the largest cock I have ever seen. I pull his boxers all the way down to his ankles and on the way up hit my forehead on his dangling cock. So much so that it rearranges some of my hair. I look up in a daze to which I hear Shavar demand, “go on, get that dick hard…” I finally am able to squat to where my vision is level and start to look at the most powerful black cock I have witnessed. While flaccid, his cock had a large vein on the top that went about ¾ of the way down his top shaft. Where the vein stopped, his cock had a slight curve to the right, displaying a slightly angled pronounced head. His penis matched his rich dark brown skin tone, which looked perfect against my ivory hands, and freshly manicured neutral pink fingernails.
I could only think to myself, hard? Make that hard? Shavar was completely flaccid. I have no idea of how long his cock was, all I can remember is that it swayed between his legs when he moved or readjusted. I grabbed his impressive member with my right hand, and when I attempted to lift it, his massive soft cock draped over my thumb. The only thing I can muster to say to him is “this is the most beautiful dick I have ever seen in my life” as I kiss his length slowly and passionately. His big black dick starts to warm on my lips, as I feel blood slowly being introduced throughout his impressive network of veins.
The entire time I am thinking to myself, this isn’t me! Inviting a man to my hotel room. Hooking up with a man on my first meeting, who is also almost two decades older than my oldest hookup, not thinking about how my friend is doing. None of this is who I am, but it feels like it’s a pure experience in this moment…
EDIT: added preamble.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/wpd6uj/the_appealing_deal_part_1_mf_interr_agegap_cons