LBD in Las Vegas (FINAL)
We are in our Third Age. Hi, I'm Russ and my 68 year old wife is Susan. We've been talking about a one week vacation in Las Vegas, "Sin City," and lose all our inhibitions. Our plans include doing whatever we want as a couple or individually with no recriminations from the other, if one seeks something or someone different. Susan is a bit nervous but excited nonetheless. She has been the model wife and mother and the epitome of female conservatism her whole life. This is her chance to let her hair down and be "naughty" where no one knows us. This is a real stretch of character for us, but we're heading to "Sin City" and we're as excited as teenagers on our first date. We want to be careful, though, to avoid anything negative, or anything that could be unpleasant.
Sue has purchased a little black dress (LBD) for the occasion and some cheap costume jewelry to enhance her appeal. She has also had her hair fixed and bought new sexy underthings. She is preparing for some "sexy fun." Susan has had body image problems for the last few years. She has gained a few pounds, added a cup size to her bra and has replaced a few of her dark hairs with a wisp of gray. Her new clothes seemed to have done the trick and given her back some sense of self beauty.
At breakfast the day before our flight she is looking a bit anxious.
"Hon," I ask, "any reservations about Vegas?"
"Yeah, lots. We're healthy and active, but what if we go to a club and nobody notices us or there is no one our age. I'd hate to be completely ignored by the younger generations. After all, we are retired and we really look like grandparents. I'd be disappointed if we were viewed as old codgers or called gramps."
"Well we can't anticipate what the sex club clientele will think because we don't know what a club is like. Reading all that stuff on the internet is no gauge of reality. You're a sexy lady - my sexy lady - and I'm sure you and your LBD will be the hit of the evening.
"I just don't want to be a wallflower or ignored because of my age."
"I can't promise anything, but I think chances are you'll get just what you want. And just what do you want?" I inquired.
"You promised no recriminations. But what I want is to meet a nice couple around our age, have some laughs, maybe dance to some nice music and have some sexy fun," she says.
Prodding deeper I ask "And just what kind of sexy fun are you wanting?"
"You are forcing me to say it, aren't you. Well I'd like to get fucked. I'd like to think I was still sexy enough that someone, other than you, would find me attractive and would like to turn me on and have sex with me ... us. I want you there with me enjoying his lady, too. So there I said it. I said fuck. Are you happy now?"
"Okay, finish packing and don't forget the hair clippers. I'll give your pussy a much needed trim. We'll trim you up nice and sexy so you can get fucked."
Early the next morning we're off on our adventure. In the late afternoon we disembark in Las Vegas, claim our luggage and catch the airport shuttle to our hotel. Susan is obviously nervous. On the flight she talked about the shows she'd like to see, all the sights we'll travel to in the surrounding area. She talked about everything except our, on-again-off-again, visit to a sex club. I think she may be having second thoughts.
We check into the Golden Nugget Hotel and unpack. The room was nicer than anticipated. We were upgraded to a room with two king-size beds. Susan was thrilled with the view from the 10th floor windows and the large bathroom and amenities.
- - -
"Russ," Sue began, "I think I'll forgo your bikini trimming and get a full Brazilian wax. I think it'll look cleaner. Besides I've never had a Brazilian before and I think its about time."
Two hours later Susan re-enters our hotel room with a big smile.
"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Kyle was a real gem and was very gentle."
"Kyle?" I ask.
"Yeah. All the girls were booked, so a young guy named Kyle did my waxing. He was gentle," she repeated, "and took his time and did a great job."
"Look" she said, lifting her dress displaying her smoothness. I know it still looks a bit red, but he guaranteed it would go away in a few hours. He applied some special cream he said would speed up the healing."
"And just where did he apply "his special cream?"
"Well, he rubbed it all over my pussy. His fingers did slip between my lips and he touched my clit a few times."
"Your clit ... a few times?" Feeling a bit of an emotional imbalance, "and did he also make a sperm deposit?"
"You are jealous, aren't you? No deposits, but with his fingers he gave me two small orgasms. A happy-ending he called it. But he said he didn't charge me for the happy-ending. Honey, it was worth the $100. See how smooth it is. Now I'm not afraid of wearing my new swim suit."
"Is that why you got a Brazilian?" I asked as I tried to quiet my heartbeat and sort my emotions.
"Well, that and other things. I don't want to look like a homeless ragamuffin under my new little black dress."
"Okay, you're obviously happy with your wax job and your orgasms." Trying to courageously display some calmness I added, "How about dinner and a show?"
It was getting dark so we left the hotel and walked through the crowds on the strip enjoying some people-watching, wondering how many of these people patronized "the adult clubs." We ate at one of the restaurants in the Bellagio, did some more people-watching as we returned to our hotel. The travel, plane and all the walking, plus Kyle had worn Susan out and we retired early.
- - -
We got up early and had a nice leisurely breakfast in the hotel. Then it was off to Hoover Dam 35 miles away. The tour began at 9:00am and we were back at the hotel just a little after 3:30pm. We were both exhausted and still adjusting to the Western time zone. We ate an early dinner, returned to our room and crashed.
We woke up the next morning quite early, chatted, fucked - the Brazilian was great - and showered. We were scheduled on an Antelope Canyon tour but decided to stay near the hotel pool. Hopefully this unspent energy will allow us to stay up a little later and enjoy some of what Las Vegas is famous for.
Susan wore her new bathing suit, a black corset one piece with plunging neckline and slow slung back. She looked hot in it. She worried it was for a much younger woman, but it was a fantastic fit. It made Susan look and feel sexy. Her Brazilian was necessary because the high-cut legs revealed quite a bit, including her new camel-toe. Susan looked 10 years younger and got lots of stares from men and women of all ages as we walked to the pool.
I slathered her back with aloe and suntan oil.
Just as she turned over a deep voice said "I'll finish that, if you like."
We turned our heads to see a couple our age drop into the pool lounges next to us.
"You don't mind if we join you? "
He introduced himself and his wife as Scott and Darla from Detroit. He appeared to be an aging athlete; balding and sporting a grin from ear to ear. His wife was everybody's neighbor. She was attractive, had a cute smile and was big-boned, but otherwise nondescript.
"I'd love to finish that rubdown," Scott spoke. "That is if the lady doesn't mind?"
We introduced ourselves as Russ and Susan from Baltimore.
I moved aside and Scott shook my hand, retrieved the plastic bottle from my other, turned to Susan and his grin widened. Susan looked up at me with inquisitive eyes but laid back and relaxed as Scott began at her feet. Instead of a sun-oil coating, Scott was giving Susan a deep-tissue massage.
Darla handed me her plastic bottle of oil and asked,
"Do you mind?" She spread her towel on the lounge and took a face down position exposing her back to me.
Scott did a lot of talking while oiling Susan. He is a retired corporate attorney and Darla a retired high school teacher. This was their first trip to Las Vegas and they were also fulfilling a long held bucket-list fantasy about a trip to "Sin City."
While oiling Susan's front side Scott's fingers slipped knuckle deep under her bathing suit near her nipples and up under the thin fabric along her camel-toe, obviously examining the smoothness of her bald pussy. Uncomfortable with his display in public, Susan repeatedly pushed Scott's hands back into view during her massage. Then she'd look towards me to see if I saw what Scott had done. Then she'd glance around to see if anyone else was watching.
Susan saw nobody paying any attention at all. There were two slender young women - mid 20s - eyes closed, sunbathing topless. Scott's antics were going unnoticed. Relieved about the lack of attention, Susan again looked at me for any signals. I winked my "good luck" to her plight.
Scott admitted his attraction to us was age. He mentioned there were few others near the pool in our age bracket. Being a talkative type, he was leery of approaching the younger set. His wife Darla had to interrupt and correct him several times, mostly to tone down obvious embellishments. Her justification for his verbal aggression was that he was a "well-meaning attorney."
Susan quipped back "Not too many of them around."
Scott was very attentive to Susan and was very generous with his compliments of her form. The more he talked, the less aggressive he seemed. Then, as if on queue, (trial over) he began to talk like an old friend not a professional shyster. Susan was enjoying his attention and her ego was being stroked and on the rise.
The sun was getting uncomfortably warm. Massage over, Susan got up and jumped into the pool to cool off. Scott followed, then I followed. Darla came to the pool edge, tested the water with her toes then slid in. The water was cool and refreshing. The waiter came by and we re-ordered two lemonades. Scott and Darla ordered mixed drinks. When we got out of the pool the refreshments were on the small table near our lounges; two lemonades and two multicolored drinks adorned with pineapple slices and mini-umbrellas.
Scott was wearing a watch and announced it was 12:30, time for lunch. Susan and I hadn't eaten since last night and were feeling a bit peckish. Scott then announced that we were his guests for lunch, there at the pool.
Hey, who were we to complain.
After lunch we resumed our positions on our lounges and sipped our now watery drinks. The conversation went everywhere and nowhere. Everyone had something to offer.
Scott looked at his wrist and announced it was 3 o'clock and asked what's next.