Note-All characters are mature adults who participate in acts of consensual sex without sexual violence.
A YOUNG MAN'S SEXUAL ODYSSEY -- EDITED
Part One -The Faithless Fiance and The Spider Girls
My name is Wilson Rosenguard. I'm a Petroleum Engineer. I graduated from the University of Texas at Austin in 1985. It is jokingly called T&A, but it is the number one school for a career as a petroleum engineer. Employment is automatic, and I was offered my first job with Shell Oil several weeks before graduation. The downside, the job was in Korea.
My college girlfriend, Lauren, kept me company for the last three years of college. She was a leggy Texas blond, a sex bomb. Her breasts were near perfect, though they were not natural; a surgeon had helped fill them out. Her ass looked like a master artist carved it. I attributed that piece of perfection to her regular exercise, running her ass off. She even had the female version of a six-pack. As for sex, Lauren was up for anything except fellatio, an act she did not consider ladylike. As Buster Keaton responded in the film "Some Like It Hot," 'no one is perfect.'
I was to start work in six weeks; I tried to convince Lauren to accompany me overseas, thinking she could be my wife and private pussy. The job even offered a stipend for a spouse.
Lauren seemed somewhat "iffy" on that subject. She said,
"I hate Korean food. Did you know Koreans make "Cock Soup out of Penises?"
How does she know this, I wondered? I imagine that tasty treat was not on her bucket list, yet, Lauren promised to wait for me stateside, faithfully, refusing my offer of a quick marriage before departure. My fiance wanted a colossal future ceremony, mimicking the British royal family's, but I was no aristocrat. I was starting life with my first job.
Two weeks before my departure, I resigned myself to living alone in Korea, but I hoped the experience would open new doors for me to explore. As for what "doors" means, dear reader, I leave that to your imagination.
I was to discover a different open door early that afternoon when I arrived without notice at Lauren's parent's home early that afternoon. I wanted to see Lauren, hoping to get an afternoon tryst with her pussy. No one was home, but the side door was ajar, and her Mustang convertible was parked in the driveway. I knocked several times and shouted, "Hello."
Since I was no stranger, I headed upstairs to Lauren's bedroom, where she was probably having her afternoon beauty rest. I was hoping for some simple affection, and I was right about her affection, except it wasn't meant for me.
To my astonishment, my college sweetheart Lauren was in the middle of what she considered a very unladylike activity. Loren was kneeling on the bed in the middle of a torrid blow job with Juan, the Mexican gardener. Juan was about forty, and he was not tall. For that reason, he was called Juanito. I was surprised at that moment to learn what he lacked in height; he made up in girth, the girth of his enormous penis. Like most day laborers, he was wiry with a quick smile, slender and fit with yet-to-be-discovered assets. The two lovers froze like deers caught in a spotlight when I opened the bedroom door and saw them nude in flagrante delicto.
Little Juan looked scared to death. In Texas, fucking another man's fiance is a capital offense. Juan was a little guy with a thin mustache that developed a nervous tic. At that moment, his mustache was bouncing up and down like a metronome. Lauren said nothing. How could she? His thick cock, was stuffed halfway down her throat, and the other formidable dick half was waiting to dig deeper.
I exploded,
"If he's what you want," I shouted, "marry him!"
I don't know if I was more shocked by her infidelity or because she'd had refused to suck my cock, which I admit was no competition for her current mouthful.
I ran out of the house, never looking back. I realized that the 'Juanito blow job' was probably the tip of the iceberg. Lauren probably knew that dick better than mine, and Juanito had probably been fucking her for years. I recalled how, on another occasion, when I arrived and saw Juanito mowing the front lawn, Lauren's pussy smelled like a taco, and it was dripping white sauce. She said she had lubed herself in anticipation of my arrival, which was strange, and she'd never done that before. Loren's pussy, usually moist, was dripping that afternoon like a Saint Bernard's drool, probably due to a full dose of Juanito sperm.
Having witnessed Lauren's betrayal, I now suspected her refusal to blow me was based on a pledge to serve only Juanito's cock. Or was it possible she only blew very big dicks, and my dick wasn't big enough to qualify?
So where do you go when you are depressed, when your life is turned upside down into a cum soaked travesty? Where do you go when your dreams are strangled, and you realize your cock is too small to fill your fiance's mouth? When life as you knew it is no longer worth living? The answer is simple, you go to Vegas, of course!
Disgusted with my "fiance," I drove to the Dallas airport late that night and got a standby ticket for an early morning flight to Las Vegas. I spent the next few hours in the airport bar and boarded the jet at 6:00 am. After a coffee and a snack, a few drinks, and some mountain scenery, we landed at McCarran Airport, Las Vegas. In the warm, bright desert morning, the town was jumping in anticipation of a weekend Nascar race. You couldn't even rent a car at the airport, and they were all rented by the racing fans.
I took a cab from the airport to the only place that still had a room at a reasonable price, the Gold Coast Hotel, where I planned to spend the next few days.
If you have never heard of it, 'The Gold Coast' looks like a small place from the outside but is quite large. It boasts an excellent Chinese restaurant, a decent buffet, and a few fast food places. You don't have to leave at night and walk to the "Strip" as they have free entertainment in the downstairs Gold Coast Showroom. They have a bowling alley upstairs if you are into rolling your balls down the lane!
After a day of wandering the casino, drinking beer and bourbon, playing various gambling games, and even betting on some televised boxing matches that afternoon, I realized I was hungry. While I stood in line for the buffet restaurant, I flirted with some school librarians from Cleveland, and we got along fine. I had seen them earlier at the slot machines, and they were sufficiently endowed to merit my extra attention.
They invited me to join them for the special Saturday night dinner, and we all sat down together with our dinner trays at a large wooden table. The girls told me they were in town for a seminar on a new computerized Dewey Decimal System. I thought they should be getting seminated when they weren't getting "seminar-ed," and I was the guy to help them; of course, I kept my mouth shut. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The three looked more like party girls than librarians. Arabella was a tall, thin black girl with long, cord-like black hair, and I was to learn it was actually a wig. She had full melon-sized breasts, a skinny waist, and a sizeable curvaceous butt filling out her tight red skirt. She said her dad was a black college prof, and her mom was from India.