Katia Wildermann

ONE

        

     Adam Rhodes glanced at his phone as it buzzed, then started playing “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head.”

     He bookmarked his place in the game code and picked it up, swiped to accept the call and put his friend, Cash Jefferson, on speaker.

     “Hey, what’s up?”

     “Hey, Dino,” Cash said. “How’s it hanging?”

     “Been getting a regular workout. You?”

     “We were doing great, then Jerry got popped, had to go into rehab.”

     “Again?”“Yeah, the fuckwad. You got plans for this weekend? I could use you.”

     Adam stopped to consider for a moment. Lyla and Cal were out of town for a fight, so he didn’t have to concern himself with coordinating with them. “I was just planning to work. I’ve got a project deadline.”

     “Buddy.” Cash’s voice took on the oily persuasive tone Adam knew best. “You haven’t been down in ages. You know you wanna sing for a while.” Cash hummed a little tune. “You know you miss it.”

     There was some truth to what Cash said. Every once in a while Adam did miss dressing up in his leisure suit, slicking his hair back with pomade, and crooning Rat Pack classics with Cash out in front of Bally’s, or across the street in front of the Bellagio fountains. Cash was Sammy Davis to Adam’s Dean Martin, and they always made it fun. The money was even pretty good.

     “Sure,” Adam said after a moment’s consideration and a glance at the clock. “I can hang with you for a few hours at least. When?”

     “Seven-ish? We’re at the usual spot.”

     “Right. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

***

     Cash ended the call and tossed his phone at the end table, only to see it skid off the surface and onto the cushion of a nearby chair. He made a note of its location, so he could find it when it was time to leave the swanky hotel suite, then flopped back against the heap of pillows.

     On her return from the bathroom, the woman crawled toward him from the foot of the bed in a way that instantly put the call to his friend out of his mind. The skimpy green camisole—sans panties—allowed him a fantastic view of her cleavage from this angle, and she managed to keep her ass propped up in his view as she crawled.

     Damn, he loved a fine, plump ass.

     He’d hooked up with the big, beautiful brunette last night and she let him spend the night in her room at the Aria. It was one of the perks of dressing up as a Las Vegas icon. He was damned sure the asshats dressed like Transformers and Avengers didn’t get invited to rooms in hotels that cost more than they could earn in a month.

     “Angel,” he purred as she paused with her head at his hips, where she proceeded to peel back the fine Egyptian cotton sheets to expose his cock, which rose quickly to the occasion.

     “Samantha,” she corrected before opening her mouth to slide the tip inside, then suck it farther down.

     He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. “Whatever you say, doll.” He didn’t really care about remembering her name. Even though he’d spent the night, he was sure Samantha didn’t expect anything more from him than as much hot sex as he could dish out and she could take before checkout time.

     He reached out and twisted his fingers in her lush hair, pushing her head a little further down his cock as she sucked for all she was worth. She reached a hand under and fondled his balls, letting her nails dig in just enough to distract him in case he had any thoughts of coming before she was ready to allow it.

     Cash wasn’t worried about disappointing her. He had just awakened from a couple hours of regenerating sleep when she left the bed to go to the bathroom, but they hadn’t slept more than an hour or so at a time before that, and he was in the zone that would let him go for at least an hour before he shot his wad.

     Samantha worked him over as if his cock was a lollypop stolen by a sugar addict in rehab, and part of him admired her enthusiasm even after the vigorous night.

     Before too long she took his cock as deep as she could, then drew back slowly to release it with an audible pop. Sudden cool air against his heated flesh was enough to break the trance he’d slipped into, and he looked down to find her looking up at him.

     “I love me some black cock.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’d like it better with your tongue in my kitty, though.”

     “Then swing your fine ass up here, and I’ll show you how much I love pink.”

     The smile on her face expressed wicked pleasure, and she was quick to comply. In moments she presented him with an up-close experience of the clean-shaven kitty in question before returning to her work on his shaft.

     She was fully aroused, the exposed lips of her pussy contracting slightly in anticipation of his touch. Grasping her fleshy butt firmly, he pulled her down to him, extending just the tip of his tongue to tease it into her folds, tasting her juices. Her leg muscles flexed and her mouth tightened around his cock in response. He delved deeper, reveling in the sensations. He loved eating pussy while a woman went down on him.

     “Oh, yeah,” he sighed before he plunged his tongue in again, finding and circling her clit with unerring accuracy. Again she tensed, pushing herself against his face and grinding. He drew her clit into his mouth and sucked, alternating gentleness with firmness, for as long as he could before he had to breathe. Pushing her up just enough to gulp in a few breaths, he was back at it before she could do more than moan a soft protest against his cock.

     Then she was gasping herself, releasing him while she clutched at his ass, digging fingernails in deep.

     "Oh Sammy!” she moaned, grinding hard.

     She had been amused that he’d introduced himself as Sammy D, commenting that it would be easy for her to remember his name, and brashly added that it would be odd to scream out her own name in a fit of passion. That had been when Cash knew he was set for the night.

     Samantha made another effort to take his shaft into her mouth, but she was obviously fast approaching climax. All she could do was hang on for the ride.Reaching around her ass to spread her even wider, Cash sucked harder, giving her the friction she desperately begged for.

     “Harder, Sammy! Oh god! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

     Her last affirmative was underscored by every muscle below her belly button contracting in ecstasy, her legs squeezing together as she covered his mouth with her juices. He lapped up as much as he could before he slapped her firmly on that gorgeous ass. She arched her back and shuddered again when he placed a firm kiss on her visibly throbbing clit.

     “That was fantastic,” she gasped, pushing her torso up before scooting herself down until she was perched above his cock, ready to impale herself on his shaft again, reverse cowgirl.

     Cash straightened his legs to oblige her, and half-closed his eyes as she lowered herself, watched the muscles in her back moving as she undulated slowly to accommodate his size. He saw and felt her shudder in another aftershock of orgasm, her inner muscles tightening around him as he thrust against her.

     Soon she was bouncing up and down his shaft with the skill and control of an equestrian, and he marveled that she still had strength in her legs. He could feel he was about worn out. He had as much stamina as any twenty-five year old, but Samantha was putting him through his paces.

     Closing his eyes, he focused on meeting her thrust for thrust, on feeling every inch of his length wrapped in her tight pussy, every sensitive surface covered in friction-inducing motion.

     “Damn, woman,” he growled, wrapping his hands around her ample waist. “You feel amazing.” He wasn’t just shining Samantha on with his pillow-talk.

     Over the years, he had found that women didn’t like it if he fucked them in silence. They wanted to think they were rocking his world as much as he rocked theirs, and he learned to feed their egos. It didn’t hurt, after all, to say things to strangers that had always embarrassed him before. If the experience was good, it often heightened it to whisper dirty words of praise to them in the throes of passion. If it was less than amazing, well, then it often helped things move along more quickly so he could go home sooner.

     But Samantha knew what she was doing. Besides being a classic fat-bottomed girl like the fabled Fanny, she was a cougar who knew her way around a man’s body. Not to mention her stamina and skills. Cash was enjoying one of the more pleasurable nights he’d had in a while. “That’s it, baby, squeeze that pussy around me. I can feel every inch of me in you, and you know it feels hot....” He had to stop his narrative as he felt his orgasm building to the breaking point.

     She was rocking and squeezing and giving voice to her pleasure in a rising moan, and everything combined to push him right over the edge. He stiffened as his orgasm took him, his cock pulsing as he force fed his cum into Samantha’s hot pussy. Shuddering, her moan hitched and she threw her head back in ecstasy.

     For a few moments they held that position, bodies slowly relaxing as the orgasmic aftershocks calmed. Then Samantha lifted herself off him and collapsed beside him, reaching out to run a languid hand up his belly to circle his nipple.

     Then she ruined the mood by bringing up reality. “My husband’s flight landed thirty minutes ago. He’s probably getting out of a cab downstairs about now.”

     Cash had been running a hand up and down her arm but now he froze, resisting the urge to curse at her. No sense in being a drama queen about it. She hadn’t told him she was married, and he hadn’t asked. He had hoped to have enough time to get a shower, at least, but there was no changing things now.

     “Right,” he said, giving her a gentle push so he could disentangle himself and get up. She let him go without a word, watching him with big, brown, bedroom eyes.

     He dressed quickly, glad he had taken the time to hang his suit neatly over the back of a chair so it wouldn’t be wrinkled. As he pulled on his shoes he spotted his phone and pocketed it, then glanced in a mirror and made an attempt to smooth his mussed hair. Samantha lay draped along the edge of the bed, watching him.

     “There’s a little something for you on the table by the door,” she said, then stood and crossed to the bathroom without a backward look.

     On his way out, Cash paused to look down at the bills neatly tucked under a glass ashtray. He didn’t think of himself as a gigolo, and while he had no compunction against taking money from women after a night spent in their hotel rooms, he hated it when they left it like this.

     He felt cheap and more than a little dirty, but he grabbed the money anyway. There’d be time to count it later.

     Outside the door, the elevator gave a soft chime as the doors slid open and an older man in a designer suit walked out, towing a rolling suitcase. Cash made way for him as he went down the hall Cash had just vacated.

     Timing was everything, right?

 

###

 

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