(This series follows on from Sally's Last Day. You might want to read those stories for the background. These stories are not based on real people or events. They are just a record of my fantasies. Need I say everyone is over 18yrs old. Enjoy.)
PART 1
The drive out of Vegas on the Sunday morning was leisurely. It was a warm sunny day and the mood was very relaxed in the car.
"We should have woken him up to say good bye. I feel like we ran away." Sally was resting her head on the car window, her face reflected in the glass.
"You did run away. You didn't want to wake him. I think we should've woken him up and had breakfast together. You don't want to give him a chance do you?" Emma sighed. "I'm going to phone him tomorrow".
"Do you have his phone number?" Sally asked sleepily.
"He'll phone one of us. We fucked his brains out, he'll phone. I wonder who he will phone?" Emma raised an eyebrow.
"You fucked him sore. He'll probably phone you. That was a good fuck. Is your arse sore?" Sally smiled. "We're dirty girls. I really enjoyed that threesome".
"I'm going to ask him out for a date. I don't think he's your type. I can't imagine you with a man shorter than you. You have only ever been with tall guys. Most of your guys have been crap, so maybe you should try a short guy" Emma laughed. "What happened to Charles?"
Sally threw her head back. "He was a big, stupid loser. I sold my arse to help pay off his drug and gambling debts and he blew the money I gave him on drugs and gambling. You're right, I do pick shit guys." Sally shook her head.
"My life is fucked up Emm, I had everything at Hugo Simpson, life was great, I could've had a good man and I made the choices a stupid whore would make. I was thinking with my cunt. I'm not good enough for Peter, that's why he is not my type. I'm just a tart."
"Don't you ever say that about yourself, you are better than that. Yes, we were exotic dancers. We got paid to give men fantasies, but we don't disrespect people and we respect ourselves. You have integrity. You are a beautiful, desirable woman any man would want to be with. Don't for one moment think Peter does not want you. I think we are tired. We'll pull over and have a coffee at the next rest area."
"Do you really want to marry him Emm?" asked Sally.
"I'll like to see more of him. See what happens. I think he is a prospect. I like the smart, creative, sensitive type. Are you afraid I'll take him away from you? Honey, I think you should have a shot at him, if it does not work out for you, it does not work out.
However, if it works out for me, you will see me happy and be resentful that it is not you." Sally was taking the fun out of Emma's chase for Peter. Emma was getting irritated. "Sal, your moping is not doing you any good and it is ruining my day. Pull yourself together and get yourself a man."
"I know. We are in our 30s. I'm afraid of being left on the shelf. I don't want to settle for just anyone, and after that bad engagement I'm gun-shy."
"How old is Peter? He looks 30s. Go for him." Emma said nudging Sally.
"He's in his 40s. He does look very young. I think he appeals to you because he is mature. We have been going around with a lot of toy boys" Sally sighed.
"You don't mind if I phone him do you?" Emma looked over at Sally.
"I'm also going to have a shot at him." Sally met Emma's look.
"That's my girl. Are we in competition? How exciting. If either of us get him I'll be happy". Emma smiled. Sally put her arm around Emma and gave her a hug.
PART 2
Peter lay in his bed thinking about the previous night. He started to masturbate thinking about the women. He thought mainly about Emma because she had showed him so much affection. He could feel her body in his arms. She had a charming, innocent face, but a wicked body. Peter had learned about Sally's involvement with Lewis, but he understood her position at the time. He worried she was drifting and needed an anchor.
When Peter returned to LA on Monday evening, he phoned Emma but went through to voicemail. Then he phoned Sally. "Hi Sally, its Peter."
"Hi Peter, lovely to hear from you!" Sally was thrilled with the call and she was not going to let him slip through her fingers this time. "On the way back from Vegas Emma and I were talking about you. Sorry we had to leave early. It would've been great to stay and enjoy Vegas together, but Emma had a booking and I also had something on."
"I had a great evening with you and Emma. I thought it would be good to get together for lunch."
"The three of us? I think Emma is out of town at the moment. How about if you and I meet for a drink tomorrow evening?" She hoped she was not being too pushy.
"That sounds good. It would be nice to have a quiet chat together. There is so much for us to catch up on. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes, we have a lot of catching up to do. See you then". Sally took a deep breath after she hung up.
Peter arrived at the bar early and was sitting at a bench by the window. He saw Sally arrive and he waved to her. She looked stunning in a black dress with a strap looped behind her neck. She walked over and gave him a kiss hello on the lips. The kiss lingered like they were lovers. Peter was surprised by her kiss.
"I'll go get myself a drink" she said, and spun around and gave him a view of her behind as she walked to the bar.
Peter was expecting a friendly drink and chat and suddenly the heat had gone up. Peter linked his fingers behind his head and puffed his cheeks out in disbelief. He was used to being with bookish women, he wondered if he was in the same league as Sally and Emma. She looked like everyman's wet dream. She did not tower over him as usual, he noticed she was wearing flats. Will he be able to cope without screwing this all up with some clumsy technical chat?
Sally came back with a glass of wine, confident she had changed the dynamic. "You look really relaxed. I never saw this side of you when we were at Hugo Simpson. You're looking great" Sally said with a smile.
"You're looking fabulous. How's life been treating you". Peter felt underdressed, he was just wearing jeans and t-shirt, and Sally was dressed stylish. He was not expecting a hot date. This was just meant to be two friends meeting over a drink.