This is a fantasy story based on a single porn site image, powerful enough that I wanted to write it down. It is an imaginary idea of what can happen in a familiar environment, the sex-crazed bubble getaway that is Las Vegas. I'm exploring human nature and our bodies, not some romantic notion of matrimony, so please don't knock me if it's not your thing. It's a fantasy that I've imagined, and I extend it to you. Just pretend with me for a moment, and then we can resume our realities.
On a sweltering summer weekend in the early 2000s, Susan, my wife of over 20 years, and I are alone in Las Vegas. In the lead up to the trip we had talked about going into more risquΓ© places, a proposition that I really didn't expect her to follow through on since it was mostly my idea.
For the first two days, Thursday and Friday, it's the usual drill: shopping in silly themed stores during the day, and dinner and a little gambling at night. All with excessive drinking and lots of walking. Susan gamely wears high heels she knows I like, but by the second night her feet are killing her, and she is unable to comfortably venture out more than a block or two from our hotel. Now that her mobility is about zero, I figure so are my chances of getting in some sexy play. Yeah, we play in the room the first two nights, but it's about as exciting as a warm beer and a stingy casino machine.
Sensing my frustration and desperate to keep me happy in a marriage that we both know is winding down, Susan awkwardly suggests that I call someone to our hotel room on Saturday night for private entertainment. I'm shocked and skeptical as I hop on my phone. After a few minutes of searching, I find a site that advertises 'room dancers.'
The site lets me choose a woman or man, young or older, and by race or culture. I click my selections, and rather than a brunette, or even a redhead that could resemble her best friend just a little too much, I find a busty blonde that is somewhat similar in appearance to Susan. I figure she'll be more open to a woman that looks like her than a fantasy woman I'd rather have. Next time.
I set up the dancer's arrival for 10pm and confirm with Susan before clicking the final button. I'm excited but also hesitant; surely, she'll balk at the last minute and leave me hard and hanging.
We dress for dinner at the hotel casino. I convince her to wear the sexiest outfit she's brought in the hopes that the stares and flirts from passing men will pump her up, and she comes through. Her dressy top is snug, and the neckline cut low to display her full 36C breasts with a nice amount of cleavage showing. Her skirt is tight with a hem at mid-thigh and her legs end in 5" platform heels that she can barely walk in. I am beginning to doubt she'll even make it to the casino downstairs and back. She looks good, though.
I lead us downstairs to a seat at a bar to limit her walking and to keep her attitude positive. We eat a quick dinner and then move on to drinks. Susan knocks down several mojitos in short order, apparently to build her confidence for the coming event back in the room, as I sip neat whiskeys.