This is my first time writing erotic fiction. I hope you enjoy it, as these scenarios have been floating around in my head for a while. Be aware, this series will include a variety of adult situations, including bisexuality, interracial sex, incest, group sex and other taboo subjects that not everybody may be into. If any of these subjects bother you, there's an entire site here filled with things you may prefer more. In any event, thanks for reading.
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I was off the plane and into an Uber to Mom's place in less than ten minutes. One of the virtues of packing light. I hadn't been home in a while and this was my first time visiting Mom in over a year. The new address wasn't what I was expecting - it was a penthouse suite in the residence side of the Elysium, one of the newest and most sought after of Vegas's adults-only Casino/Hotels. The fact that Mom was living in a Casino was nothing new - despite essentially raising me as a single mom, she was a very good attorney and had been working her way up the corporate ladder in the hospitality business for most of her adult life.
My uber driver was female, which was a surprise, as was the look she gave me when I waved at her after matching the tags from my phone to her Yukon. She hastened around the back of the SUV, let me throw my carryon in the trunk, and then and opened the door for me. She was cute, with a nice dimple in her smile and shining black hair that betrayed an obvious Hispanic ancestry. She reminded me a bit of an ex-girlfriend from school. I towered over her - I do that to most people - and was grateful she'd moved the passenger seat up so I had some leg room. It was a chilly December evening in DC, but I knew it would be warmer at home, so I was still wearing the sweats and a Washington Commanders jersey I threw on when Mom had asked me to come home that morning. I knew I didn't look my best, but I had been asked more than once if I actually played for the Commanders, so I knew even my worst was still pretty good. My thoughts went back to Mom. I didn't know what she wanted to tell me that she couldn't have said it over the phone, but this wasn't the first time she had wanted to tell me bad news in person. Fortunately, she caught me on my last day of final exams, so I had nearly a month break before I had to be back in DC for spring semester.
When Dad died, it was the same way. Boarding school headmaster comes to class and asks for Jack Fisher. An hour later I was heading to Logan Airport, and six hours later in Vegas my Mom was telling me Dad was gone. My grandparents were all gone, and both Mom and Dad were only children, so she and I didn't have anybody else but each other. I think that made our bond tighter. From my entry into teenage years to today, just past my 21st birthday, it had just been me and Mom. I had spent half the flight wondering who could be dead this time, the other flirting with the flight attendant who could tell I was troubled. She'd been cute, too, the exact opposite of my Uber driver - tall, blonde, pale and flat as a board. Not my type at all, but it was nice to be noticed. Then again, I do tend to stand out in a crowd.
The door clicked shut, and the driver hopped in and started to pull out into airport traffic.
"First time in Vegas?" she asked, looking at me in the rear view mirror. All I could see was a pair of smokey brown eyes, with eyelashes I was confident she wasn't born with. I laughed, and replied "nope, I'm a local."
"Welcome home! I'll skip the part where I ask whether you want to take the freeway," she said, with a bit of a girlish giggle. Her accent was very slight, but I could tell she was local, too. The rest of the trip passed in silence, and as we drove down the Strip, dusk had just started falling and the city was lighting up with the nightlife that I didn't really miss at all. I never really enjoyed Vegas - it was a place other people wanted to come to, but for me, I was always hoping to get away from it. Maybe that's why I'd stayed on the east coast for college. I'd rather have a dorm room overlooking the Potomac than one overlooking the Strip.
"See you around sometime, Mr. Local," my driver said, flashing me her dimple one last time. I should have probably gotten her number - I probably should have gotten the flight attendant's number too, but my brain was fully in control and my cock was the farthest thing from my mind. I got out of the truck, grabbed my carry on, and headed into the lobby of the residence.
Condos in casinos weren't unknown in Vegas, but the Elysium was one of the few that actually had residences within the hotel and casino proper. The hotel was relatively new - it was finished the year I started college and opened fully the start of my junior year. Mom had worked for a number of the local entertainment groups, and the year the Elysium opened, she'd been offered and accepted a gig as the General Counsel for the Sinclair Group, one of the up-and-coming companies in the city. Sinclair's CEO, Solomon Sinclair, was a relative newcomer to the Vegas scene - which was notoriously cliquey - but the billion dollar investment the group had made in the Elysium had paid off. The first big casino to open in the new decade, and my mom was the company's top lawyer. I guess the new penthouse suite was part of her compensation package.
This was my first time at the hotel, and I was impressed. From the outside, everything was completely tasteful and elegant. It was the opposite of most of the big casinos in Vegas - no bright lights, no blaring noise, no line of smokers standing around the lobby, and I couldn't even smell any weed. It wasn't anything like I had expected. I went inside and found myself in a palatial lobby, full of dark woods and dim lighting, and with a massive fountain tinkling in the center. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, my mouth dropped open. The fountain was gorgeous, a massive plinth on which rested a marble sculpture of two men and one woman in the midst of what was clearly a menage-a-trois. One marble figure stood behind the female figure, who was on her hands and knees carved directly into the plinth, his erect penis half in half out of her pussy, taking her from behind. Her face was tilted up, taking the other male statue's cock in her mouth, blank white eyes looking directly into the face of her forward partner. It was beautiful, it was erotic, and it was like nothing I'd ever seen before.
Around the lobby were large, beautifully gilt framed pieces of art, all depicting similar scenes, with a various combinations of participants. Male, female, transexual, groups of men alone, groups of women alone, threesomes, foursomes, all done in a variety of classical styles, from impressionism to realism. I noticed what I believe to be a few older paintings, one of which appeared to be a Gauguin with his typical naked Tahitian women at play, and at least one very large painting of a beautifully round and busty blonde and her little dog that reminded me of Titian. I had never seen anything like this. My mom was living in a hotel that was decorated to look like a brothel for millionaires. I knew the Elysium was "adults only" but in Vegas that just means don't bring the kids. It usually doesn't mean open pornography.
The lobby was bustling and I was clearly underdressed. The clientele all looked like they were dressed to be seen, some wearing more than others. In Vegas you're used to seeing just about every type of person, but the customers here were fit, looked put together and the quiet buzz sounded nothing like any casino I'd ever been in. The jarring lights, smell of stale smoke, and ringing of the slot machines was non-existent. I was intrigued, but I figured I'd have plenty of time to explore Mom's new place after I got whatever news she had to share out of the way.
I saw a desk marked 'Residential Concierge,' and I walked over to it. Behind the desk stood a beautiful Asian lady, alabaster skin and ruby red lips, a very full bust that was tastefully yet enticingly struggling to break free of the buttons of her white blouse, and a short pencil skirt that highlighted long legs and a nice pair of what I can only assume were expensive heels. Her raven hair was done up in a tight bun with a modest gold Tama Kanzashi through it, pinning her hair to the back of her head. She was one of the most striking women I had ever seen.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, her full mouth slightly frowning, obviously at my lack of proper clothing. I freely admit that I looked like I'd stepped out of a locker room, and I was starting to wish Mom had told me to wear slacks and a button down. Her voice was just a few degrees warmer than frosty. For the first time, I noticed two very large men - my size, in fact - wearing dark suits with sun glasses standing in an alcove behind the concierge, their ear pieces and bulges in their suit jackets announcing in a silent scream they were armed security.
