Christies Casino Date

I was bent over the bathroom sink in the hotel room of the casino. I looked in the mirror at my body, which my husband had finished oiling. He had rubbed baby oil all over me so that I fairly glistened in the bright lights. My makeup was carefully applied-subtle except for my maroon lips, and my hair beautifully styled earlier in the salon downstairs. My husband was applying a generous amount of lube to my jeweled plug, and before reaching down to slowly work it into my anus, met my eyes. I jumped a little at the cold intrusion, and he took his time slowly inserting it. He guided it in and out, allowing my ass to adjust to the tapered intruder, until I could feel myself beginning to close over the final taper that held it in place. He gave several teasing thrusts, working it in and out of me, before allowing my ass to grasp it into place. Once it was fully in, I waited a moment before straightening up and reaching my hand back to pull him down for a kiss. I watched us in the mirror-me, fully nude, the chilly room coupled with the barbells through my nipples making them almost painfully hard, body gleaming, and him-casually dressed in khakis and a golf shirt.

We shared a lingering, loving kiss before he broke off, and we headed out into the sitting area of the suite. Earlier, we had moved one of the glass-topped end tables to where it would be fully visible from the doorway. Secured to one corner was one of my dildos, with a vibrating wand secured to it. He helped me straddle the table and lower myself onto it, and I held myself with just the tip intruding into my pussy as he switched the vibe onto its lowest setting. As I settled down further, my knees came into contact with the edges of the table to help me hold my position better. I folded my arms behind my back, and he loosely wrapped a scarf around them to remind me not to move them. If I were to lose my balance, I would still be able to pull free and catch myself, but it was more to keep me from bracing myself on the glass top of the table and leave telltale hand prints. Once they were wrapped, he came around to my side and gave me another long, lingering kiss before abruptly tweaking one of my bare nipples and moving towards the door. My already damp pussy began to trickle at the daringness of what we were about to do. As he opened the door, I would be fully visible to anyone moving through the hall. I listened half in fear, half in excitement for voices outside the door before my husband opened it fully, stepped out, and gave me a loving wink before slowly closing the door tightly shut behind him.

In twenty minutes, my date was due to come back through that door, after having obtained the room key from my husband in one of the restaurants downstairs. In the meantime, I was to be impaled on the dildo, with the vibe teasing my clit. I had never met my date, and didn't even know his name. My husband had worked out all of the pre-planning details and rules with him in the preceding months, and I trusted to his planning. As my legs grew uncomfortable with holding my position, I alternated between raising myself higher so that just the tip remained in me, and seating myself almost fully onto it, careful not to dislodge the vibe. The higher I was, the more quickly my legs got tired. The more I sank down, the more my clit got worked. Between the anticipation, the teasing, and the slow fucking I was giving myself, my pussy was very sloppy and my eyes beginning to lose their focus when I heard voices in the hall. Twenty minutes in the fairly awkward position was beginning to make my thigh muscles burn, but they were forgotten in an instant as the voices seemed to pause right outside my door. I was able to distinguish two men's voices, and another female voice.

I heard the key be inserted into the reader and the door knob twisted, the conversation continuing. A laugh broke out, and the door swung fully open. Standing partially to one side was a fairly handsome, strongly-built man, tall, dark hair, clean shaven. His hand still held the knob as he gave a brief goodbye to his conversation partners. Also visible in the doorway was a voluptuous blonde, holding the arm of another gentleman who was similarly holding open the door across the hall. The blonde's gaze inadvertently swept through the door of our suite, and as she caught sight of me she gaped in amazement. My pussy clenched and gave a small gush of fluid, and as her companion turned to see what she was staring at, my date moved through the door, quickly enough to forestall embarrassment, but slowly enough that the man across the hall was able to get a full look at me.

The door closed, and my companion stood and gazed at me. My body was trembling at the combined exertion of holding my position as well as being caught in such a manner by total strangers. My unnamed date took out his cell phone and took a careful picture of me before slowly walking all the way around me. My muscles were tired, so I was slowly working myself up and down on the dong. After a complete circle, he stepped up and freed his cock, offering it to me. I greedily opened my mouth and started sucking it in. His hands lightly grasped the sides of my head around my ears, using just his fingertips. The slightest of pressures had us alternating between him using my head to fuck his cock, and him holding my head still and slowly face fucking me. Forgotten were my burning thigh muscles as I reveled in the sensation of being completely filled in all holes, with a complete stranger's dick down my throat. I moaned slightly at the sluttiness of my position, and I felt his cock twitch.

I swirled my tongue around the underside of his shaft, and he gave two quick, deep thrusts into my mouth before pulling almost completely out. His orgasm filled my mouth, and as was pre-arranged, I kept most of his load in my mouth. I heard the cell phone's camera as he held himself in position, then again as he overflowed my mouth so that his cum was trickling down my chin. I looked up, directly into the camera, eyes glazed with lust and heard a third click. He pulled all the way out, one last shot sending a gob of cum into my hair. I held my mouth open, showing it to be full of cum for a fourth picture, then swallowed and showed it newly emptied, with just a trace around my mouth, in my hair, and on my chest. He put his cock away and again walked behind me, freeing my hands and pushing me over so that my plug and the dong were both clearly visible from behind, and I heard yet another picture being taken.

He reached beneath me to cup my breasts, using them to pull me upright and off from the tantalizing vibe and dildo combination. I stood fully upright, pressed back into him, as he caressed and squeezed my breasts, occasionally running his fingers over my nipples. My pussy was absolutely running at this point, and I was beginning to be desperate to be fucked. He guided me from behind over to the window, so that I could either watch the people a few stories below walking around and enjoying themselves, or my reflection as he toyed with me.

Finally, he tired of amusing himself in teasing me this way, and walked over to the bed. There, my handmade sweater dress with the deep cowl was carefully laid on the bed. He gently picked it up, then carried it over to me before lifting up the cowl and wiping my slit with the underside of it. He then carefully placed it back on the bed before having me take a seat in one of the chairs. My legs were spread so that my pussy gaped open and the jewel peeked out from my ass. He rummaged through my overnight bag and found some of my lipstick, then wrote "married" up my right upper thigh and over my bald mound, and "slut" down my left thigh. He then reached up and wrote "cum" just over my right breast, and "whore" over my left. I then had my hands placed under my knees, and had them pressed so that I was holding them as high and wide as I could before he took another picture of me.

The degradation was thrilling me, and a moan escaped my lips-the only human sound since he had entered the room. He finally spoke in a pleasant baritone, and told me that I could relax for a moment. I let my feet down on the floor and lay against the back of the chair as he again rummaged through my bag, finding my set of clamps. He fastened them to both nipples, the chain hanging loosely from them, and then pinched my clit with the third. He adjusted them so that they would be securely in place, yet comfortable enough to stay on for quite some time, then brought my dress back to me.

He helped me to carefully feed my head through it, then my arms before draping it down my body. I then was helped into my thigh-high stilettos. When I stood, the hem of the dress just covered the tops of the boots. When I walked, there was a brief flash of bare thigh. Sitting down however, brought the dress almost up to my bare ass. My nipples were plainly protruding, holding the dress and offering just a hint of their piercings and clamps. With a last, brief inspection, we then walked to the door which he opened for me with a flourish, then went down to the casino.

The noise of casinos always seems harsh to me. However, tonight I was fairly distracted by the constant pressure on my nipples and clit, the plug in my ass, and the naughtiness of going out in public wearing someone's cum other than my husband's. The more I walked, the more my pussy trickled because of the movements of the clamp against my engorged clit. We briefly sat and watched a blackjack game, his fingers lightly tracing the slight gap between my boots and the hem of my dress. We then wandered over to the poker table, where his fingers went underneath my dress and lightly teased my ass cheeks, spreading some of my juices over them. After that, he decided to play craps for a while. I stood behind him, occasionally bending over when he offered me to blow on the dice. This offered a view down the front of my dress to the players across the table from us, and I knew they could see both some of the writing on my chest and the chain connecting my nipples and clit. He did fairly well at craps, winning almost two hundred dollars, before tiring of the game. We then went to the bar. He sat on a low stool and pulled me back onto him, so that I was straddling one of his legs, facing the room. This pressed my plug slightly deeper into my ass, but offered him the opportunity to tease me a bit by running his thumb up my thigh under my dress, almost to my pussy. A few times it brushed the chain dangling from the clamp attached to my clit and making me jump and squirm slightly. As he drank his martini, I sipped a rum and coke and watched the people. A few of the people kept us in their peripheral vision, discretely watching us. One or two blatantly stared, but only a couple gave shot a disgusted look our way. I realized that some of the writing on my thighs almost had to be visible, depending on the view the person had of me, and this turned me on even further.

After the drink, we again wandered for a bit before sitting at one of the roulette wheels. I pressed myself against his side as he played, running my fingers through his hair and occasionally raking them down his stomach or up his thigh, my breasts firmly pressed into him the entire time. He eventually had me straddle his thigh so that I was still facing him. This increased the pressure on my clit and also hiked the hem of my dress nearly off my ass. I found myself grinding my clit into his thigh muscles, and knew I was leaving his pants damp. He didn't fare so well at roulette, losing half of what he'd won at craps, so we left that game fairly soon.

He was amused at the wet spot on his leg, and walked us to a somewhat secluded slots game located in a curve of the room. He sat down and fed his player's card into the machine, then beckoned me directly next to him. He positioned me with my back to the machine, within easy reach. As his right hand made his selection, his left slid up my thigh and his fingers directly into my sopping pussy. He later told me that it was three, directly straight into me. Before the machine stopped spinning, it was his whole hand.

The way I was standing, I would be able to see the moment anyone caught sight of me, but would be unable to move out of view. Due to the abrupt curve of the room, only about 6 currently unused machines offered a view of what was going on. But between the stilettos and being fisted, I was virtually immobilized. I could feel my mouth hanging open in pleasure, and was inadvertently meeting his thrusts so that I was as much fucking his hand as he was fisting me. All of the cumulative stimuli-the initial teasing, the exposure, the degradation, and the clamps, had me coming to a huge climax very, very quickly. However, just as it was about to crescendo, he abruptly pulled his hand out of me. My mouth, which had been gaping open at the pleasure of being so stuffed, gave out a loud mixture of half-whine, half frustrated growl, and I inadvertently crouched, my body wanting that last bit of stimulation to bring itself to climax.

He proceeded to ignore me for the next few spins on the machine, letting me come down from the near orgasm. I blatantly smelled of vaginal secretions, I could feel my juices running down my thighs. The penetration had been enough to satiate me briefly, but I was still extremely horny, and more than ready to be fucked. I bent over him, my breasts sandwiching his upper arm, one arm around his neck and rubbing his chest, the other on his thigh, teasing him with its closeness to his crotch. He gave a few more spins on the machine, winning another fifty dollars, then removed his card and stood up, pressing against me. I molded my body to his, as he announced he was heading to the restroom.

We walked through the game room, my arm through his, me cuddled into his side. Upon arriving at the men's room, he surprised me by using his arm to squeeze mine, effectively pulling me in with him. A shot of exhilaration shot through me at being a horny female in the men's room. Somewhat fortunately, nobody was visible, and we went into one of the stalls. He sat me down on the toilet and proceeded to pull out his cock, wordlessly expecting a blowjob. I took him in my mouth, my hands running up his thighs. I swirled my tongue around the bottom of his shaft as I worked my head back and forth on it, several times matching his gaze as I did so. A few times I took him deep, until my nose pressed against his pants.

After a few minutes of this, he pulled me to my feet, spun me, and lifted one leg so that my foot was on the toilet seat. I bent over slightly bracing myself against the wall, as he bent his knees and slid his cock into me, having lifted my dress up onto my back. I inadvertently gave a soft moan, quickly smothered, due to the angle pushing his cock against my g-spot. He ran his hands up my body, lifting my dress over my head and off. I felt it brushing against my leg and side as he again ran his hands over me, one hand around and underneath to squeeze my breast.

I heard men's voices come into the room. My pussy spasmed and my hips bucked. I bit my tongue to try and keep silent as I was quickly being pushed to orgasm. Apparently my date was too, because he thrust hard into me and held, giving soft grunts as he filled my pussy with his sperm. This pushed me over the edge, and I gave my own muffled grunts and groans as I came. The other occupants of the room continued their conversation, apparently unaware of us. My partner pulled out, one hand holding me in place as he took another picture-naked except for the boots, jeweled plug in my ass, freshly fucked, in a men's bathroom stall. I was then guided to turn around and sit, and I sat and cleaned him off. He allowed me to wipe up some of the mess between my legs before opening the door. He grabbed my hand, still holding my dress, and led me out and over to the urinals, where he posed me leaning back against one, legs spread. The light made the writing on me show up very well, and the chain between the clamps winking. He took another picture before handing me back my dress.

I quickly threw it on and we walked out, with me riding a high of slutty sexual euphoria over what we had just finished. I was giggling-something I don't often do. I was feeling like a true slut, and acted even more like it. I took every opportunity to rub my body against him, holding his hand against my abdomen and pushing my tits against him as much as possible. He played a few more games, with me draping myself over his shoulder, occasionally whispering directly into his ear, my arms around his chest.

Any time we walked, I was catwalking. While earlier I was acting demure, now I was clearly showing myself as a woman eager for sex. As we returned to the craps table, the clamps were beginning to hurt, something I whispered into his ear. He gave me a choice-either endure it until he was done with the game, or I could stay right there and take them off.

I looked around, weighing my options. There was only one other person at the table with us, besides the table host. I sat next to my date, reached up my skirt, and began to pinch the release of the clit clamp when he stopped me. "I said 'pull' them off", he said. His tone was conversational-not overly loud, but enough that if the host or other player were paying attention, they could have heard over the noise of the room. I flushed and paused, then grasped the chain and gave a long pull, ripping the clamps off in a chain reaction. I pressed my lips tightly together to suppress the shriek of ecstatic pain, and the mini-orgasm the pain gave me. All eyes at the table were on me when I recovered, and my date answered their unspoken question by lifting my hand so that the chain was placed on the edge of the table.

I blushed so deeply I could even feel my chest getting red. I sat, completely humiliated yet also turned on even more. After my partner took a few more turns with the dice, he casually stood up and pocketed my clamps, then took me by the hand and led me through the game room to the elevator. I followed submissively, unable to match my sexual prowl of earlier.

In the elevator, I was gently pressed up against the wall. We were the only ones riding, so he bent down and began to kiss me gently, reaching underneath my skirt and gently stroking my clit as he did so. Despite the embarrassment, I was still extremely horny, and was quickly humping his fingers as we kissed. My fingers of one hand caressed his arm, even as the others were tightly grasping the handrail. He straightened as the elevator doors slid open, and we realized this was our floor.

He stepped out into the hallway, blocking me in the elevator. After looking up and down the hall, he turned back to me and reached back down, roughly hooking a finger into my vagina and lifting up. My gaze spun and I felt my knees go weak, even as my back arched in pleasure. One hand grasped his arm to steady myself as I felt him forcefully kiss me. He then pulled his finger back out of me, and as my eyes returned to normal, I saw him looking at me with a predatory gaze. He studied me for a moment, then glanced again up and down the hall.

As the elevator began to ding impatiently at us, he pulled me into the hall and again slid my dress over my head. The teasing in the elevator had brought back the urges in me, so that once again I was walking sex. My body advertised what I was-a cum whore, a married slut. Coital fluids made my thighs glisten, I had dried semen in my hair and on my chest. Except for the boots, I was fully nude, and I could feel my vulva gaping open to show how excited I was over my plight.

I needed no instruction-I led by several paces as I willingly walked down the hall to our room, and I sensed that I was once again being photographed. My pace was moderate-not hurrying to safety, yet not slowly and inviting being caught.