Although this story is Part 4, it is not necessary to read the previous parts before this one.
Chapter 4: Limo in Vegas
There must be ten million men like me across America: horny and desperate married guys whose wives have next to no sexual appetite. Believe me, I've tried to get her interested, but over time I've come to accept that she just never will have the same level of physical desire that I do. Once a month is our current average, and when we do it, it's pretty dull. So, I fuck whores on the side.
There are two difficulties with this lifestyle. One is money; I do all right, but I'm not exactly rolling in discretionary cash, and a good evening generally costs at least a few C-notes. The other is discretion, because I don't want to get caught. I love my wife and I want to stay with her even though we're totally incompatible sexually. The hardest part is keeping the expenses hidden, but I have my ways and it's enough to get me a really good, satisfying lay every couple of months. Not as often as I'd like, but I'll take what I can get.
Since I don't want the emotional entanglement of an affair, I prefer to go to professional women. They get what they want, I get what I want, and we part ways without my having to worry about whether she's going to get all Fatal Attraction on me. I also like having my fantasies fulfilled, things that I wouldn't normally be able to get from a woman. Most of all, I like to enjoy two women at once.
This isn't something I'd even ask of my wife, and if she were willing to grant me normal sex on a fairly regular basis -- say, once a week or so -- I would be perfectly satisfied. But since I can't get it that often, I'm going to make it as good as it can be!
(Note -- I don't really do any of this. I write stories about it instead. It keeps me sane without compromising my marriage vows.)
One thing that makes it a little easier to maintain secrecy is that I occasionally go out of town on business, and one of the places I go from time to time is Las Vegas. The first time I went there was the first time I'd ever hired an actual escort, and I spent an evening entertaining a lovely mocha-skinned woman named Desiree in my hotel room. I had wanted a double feature at the time, but I was nervous enough about just asking for one woman, so I left it at that. Since then, I've enjoyed the attentions of two women together, and that was what I wanted yet again.
The company I work for prefers to give a check to cover expenses in advance, and by eating cheap one can pocket the difference. In my case, it makes it much easier to hide my more clandestine expenses from my wife. It's not enough to pay for the whole thing, but I can make up the difference from my private stash, and in the case of Vegas I can often supplement that with winnings at the blackjack tables.
And on this occasion, I was able to do so with room to spare...
* * * * *
Back in my room after a very successful evening, I riffled my thumb through the stack of thirty hundred-dollar-bills and enjoyed the crisp sound it made. It was the most cash I'd ever held in my hand, and I was about to blow at least half of it.
There was something I'd always wanted to try, but I had never had the funds for it until now. I picked up one of the flyers that I'd collected along the strip and dialed a number under a picture of a white stretch limousine that was flanked by lovely ladies. The familiar lump of excitement and anticipation rose in my throat as the phone made the connection.
"Fantasy Limousines, this is Caroline, can I help you?"
I swallowed the lump. "Yes, Caroline," I said. "I'd like to hire a car this evening."
"Certainly. Have you booked with us before?"
"No."
"Well, we have a lot of different packages to choose from. If you like, I can describe them to you."
"Actually, I'm looking at your website right now," I said, having pulled it up on my laptop in advance. "What I'd like is the Champagne and Strawberries special, in the Hummer if it's available."
"It certainly is! Where are you staying, sir?"
"The Mirage."
"I can have the car there by nine o'clock, if that will work for you."
"That will be fine," I said, checking my watch; it was about eight PM.
"All right then... as you've probably read, the Champagne and Strawberries special involves an hour and a half in an elite custom limousine, followed by an evening at our exclusive club, and then we take you back to your hotel in a conventional limousine. The package includes two escorts who will accompany you on the ride in, and they will also provide companionship here at the club. Since you're on our website, may I ask if you have a preference for your escorts?"
I looked over the available options under girl/girl. "Um... are Jayme and Melisande available?" I felt strange as I always did at such moment, essentially ordering women off a menu.
"Let me check... yes, they are! All right then, I have you down for nine o'clock, in the Hummer, Jayme and Melisande accompanying. Will there be anything else?"
"I think that will be fine," I said.
We took care of the deposit, confirmed a few details, and then there was nothing to do but wait. Ever wonder how to make an hour last a hundred years? I know a good way!
* * * * *
At five minutes to nine, I stood waiting outside the Mirage lobby. I wore a simple outfit, a black button-down shirt and matching slacks. I'd showered and shaved while waiting, knowing that the girls would want me to be clean. I was really looking forward to this adventure; the idea of getting it on in the back of a limousine was exciting, and if their pictures were anything to go by, the girls were nicely hot.
Just two minutes before nine o'clock, the limo pulled in and stopped in front of me.
The driver got out and walked around the front of the car. It surprised me somewhat that the driver was also a woman, and an attractive one. We took care of the introductions and I gave her an envelope with fifteen hundred dollars inside, which she pocketed without a fuss and opened the door for me. Taking a deep breath, I slipped inside.
"Hey, look who's here!" called a voice from near the front of the car.
I looked up as I slid onto the smooth, soft leather of the enormous back seat. The interior looked as though it had been designed by Liberace; thick shag carpet, neon lights that ran the length of the ceiling, white leather and black lacquer, the whole works. Bench seats ran along both sides, and a wet bar stood up against the wall that separated my compartment from the driver. And along each of those bench seats, sipping champagne from crystal flutes, was a stunning woman.
On my left was a slim brunette, dressed in an elegant black evening gown that was cut just a little too low across the top and a little too high on her legs; that is, too low and too high to comply with what most would consider proper modesty, but certainly not for my taste! Her legs were long, slim, and perfectly toned, in black fishnet stockings that she wore to their best advantage. Around her neck was a diamond-studded choker, and her hair was pulled back tightly and held up in a complex woven bun, a single curl winding down her cheek. Her eyes were incredible; large, wide, and bright aquamarine. Her lips were dark pink and looked wet. She smiled at me with a eager and playful expression, throwing me a wink and turning just so in her seat to look at me enticingly over her shoulder. She was Melisande.
Her companion, Jayme, had luxurious waves of strawberry blonde hair, streaked lighter here and there. Her dress clung to her tightly, baby blue and mostly translucent, sequined strategically to draw one's attention to her breasts and slim waist. Her eyes were dark and sultry, contrasting noticeably from her pale skin and light hair. Shimmering lips smiled at me in an enticing way, pouty and full, and I knew that they would feel just incredible wherever she might choose to use them.
As the car moved smoothly out into the strip, the girls slid along their seats toward me. Melisande took the champagne bottle and Jayme picked up another glass.
"Hey sexy," Jayme cooed as she joined me in the back seat. "I hope you're up for a really good time tonight."
"That's the idea," I replied, accepting the glass from her and holding it so that Melisande could pour the bubbly. "It doesn't look like I'll have to look too hard to find a party."
"It's so much easier when the party comes to you, isn't it?" Melisande said with an adorable smile. She seemed to have such a youthful innocence about her; if I hadn't known from the webpage that she was actually twenty-three years old, she could have easily passed for eighteen.
"What shall we drink to?" Jayme asked, raising her glass.
"To sexy women," I suggested, "and the women who love them."
The girls laughed, and Melisande offered, "And, to the man who gets to watch!"
"The man who gets to join them," Jayme corrected.
We clinked glasses and drained them. Jayme turned slightly to the side and hit a few buttons on the console next to her. A thumping, slow beat pumped from speakers that seemed to be inside the seat, a bit louder than I would have liked, but she turned it down so it was merely background noise. It seemed to me that mixed in with the music were feminine voices moaning in sensual pleasure.
"So," Melisande said, "you like women who love women?"
"It's my favorite thing," I replied.
"Mmm, I was hoping you'd say something like that," Jayme purred. "I've been really hot for some pussy action lately. Sandi and I got into it a little bit on the way over here, but of course, we needed to save ourselves for you."
"What did you do, exactly?" I asked.
"Just a little warming up," Melisande replied, reaching over to stroke Jayme's thigh. "You know, a little kissing, a little petting... Jayme was so naughty, she started touching me through my panties."
"You're the naughty one, you're the one who got all wet!" Jayme countered.
"I can't help it if you turn me on," Melisande replied.
"Go on, touch her," Jayme insisted to me. "Feel how wet she is."
Melisande smiled at me and spread her legs open as an invitation. I really loved their approach -- most of the pros I'd had in the past had started out with stripping or kissing, which I liked of course! But having one of them open her legs for me right at moment one was a major turn-on as well; it was like they were holding up a neon sign that said "NO INHIBITIONS."
I reached over and gently stroked Melisande's black lace panties, right over the top of her pussy lips. She smiled and sighed slightly, enjoying the touch. Her panties were damp under my fingertips.
