We staggered into the hotel room, him laughing his head off, and me trying to regain a bit of dignity while rubbing my sore ass at the same time. He had tried to carry me over the threshold, of course, but had dropped me before even reaching the door. Stupid lunk obviously couldn't handle his drink. I, on the other hand, had managed to ration myself a bit. I hadn't needed to go through the stupid ritual of two couples taking three tequila shots before the first dance (at least, I've always been told it was a tradition), and had managed to avoid him most of the evening, with not too much difficulty, thankfully, since his crowd of buddies managed to keep him occupied most of the time, the only time I've been glad of their presence.
I guess you want the backstory now? My name's Sylvia, and I prefer to keep my real last name to myself. I'm 35, almost 36, and I've had an extremely 'eventful' life, I you know what I mean. I was a cheerleader from almost the beginning of high school, right through to the end of college. My good looks and my body always got me high up in a social standing. Never really learned much in school, since my favourite place was the boy's locker rooms, especially after a game, which is where I get most of my experience, as you may have guessed. Even had few high school and college Coaches in my time; there was this Coach one year, he had the greatest ass, and a cock thicker than a... But you probably aren't interested in my younger, debauchery days. Let's get a bit closer to the present.
I'm a stripper at a local club in Las Vegas, my dream job, no writing, no meeting, no paperwork, all you need to do is go out on stage, take a few clothes off, twirl around a pole a few times, and just watch the cash flow in! I'm always the star attraction, because of the size of my breasts (couldn't tell you my bra size, since I don't normally wear one! Let's just say I'm blessed), and on an average night, I'd get in about $50 an hour, and the club normally stayed on until 2am, so I'd get around $200 a night, and an average night, that is! So you can probably tell that I have almost no financial problems at all, since I'm not like those girls who get given their nightly dole, and then go straight out to the first dealer they see and put it all up their nose or on a vein, stupid cows.
I've been married four times. The first time was probably true love, but, as the old saying goes, men are pigs! So ever since then, it's always been in my own interests. The guy had to have money, and he had to have a good body, and over-average in the crotch area. I'd been lucky once, and got a man who had it all, but the other two guys, they both had it in the wallet, but one was monstrously fat (he had a big dick though), and the other must've been Bill Gates' brother or something, cause I've never seen a skinnier guy in my life, and I wouldn't be surprised if a had been his first time! But I got a cool $15,000,000 from each of them with the divorce, and since I've been proven theoretically sterile from a car accident when I was 16, there were no children involved, which makes everything so much easier.
This latest guy, his name's Bobby. He's 25, and he used to play professional football, but he's been cut over a leg injury, and now he's signed as the face of a brand new clothing brand. He's just my type of guy, fit and tall with lots of stamina, and with a yearly value of over $500,000,000!
I met him, well; saw him, at the club one night. He was dressed in a white tank top, and I could see every definition line of his chest and abs. I made a beeline right in front of him as soon as my music started, and immediately started waving my tits in his face and showing him my ass through my miniskirt and fishnets. Seems my tactics worked, because he popped a nice tent in his shorts after less than a minute. I didn't really care that he was ten years younger than me, since it obviously didn't bother him too much. But I couldn't do anything with him there in the bar space, one, because penetration isn't really allowed in the bar (hygiene standards), and two, because he had a large gangs of guys hanging round him. He was obviously the ringleader, so wherever he went, they would likely follow, and I wasn't in the mood for a gangbang that night. I jumped down off the stage once I was down to my panties, my breasts wobbling as I walked towards him, drawing a lot of irritating whoops and whistles from his jock buddies (I had to resist giving them a kick with my stilettos), and started rubbing myself up and down this guy, sitting on his lap, lap dancing my ass off, and he just sits there, grinning like a hyena, nodding confidently to his surrounding jock-pack. When I felt I had him turned on enough, I leaned forward and whispered in his ear "Meet me in the back alley at 2:15am. Bring money."
He was obviously a bit drunk, so I couldn't be sure if he'd understood or not, but when I got off my shift at 2:15, he was there already, leaning against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It looked a bit like a 'Jack-the-Ripper' scene, but I didn't care. This guy was just business to me, and business requires a bit of risk at times.
I didn't wait for him to speak, just got to my knees, opened his fly, got his jock out of the way, and was faced by a nice big dick, about 10 inches long and about 3 inches wide, just how I like them, though I always prefer longer cocks than I get, but I couldn't complain. I went down on him like I meant it, taking about three inches of his cock into my mouth, licking and sucking on his cut head. He was obviously enjoying it, because I was getting a throat-full of precum, and he was trying to stifle his moans. I wasn't ready for him to cum just yet, so I pulled a condom out of my pocket, rolled it over his dick, lifted up my skirt and pulled down my panties, and leaned against the wall with my legs open. He got the message quickly enough, even though he was still a bit buzzed. He swaggered confidently up to me, his big dick waving as he walked. I loved the cocky look in his eye, and even though he was 'just business', he was actually making me kinda wet between the thighs.
I took a good hold of his dick, and guided it into my pussy, where, once his head was inside, he rammed it in like a jackhammer, making me yelp as his thick shaft stretched my lips apart, grazing my clit as he went. He then started to fuck me, harder and harder, and he actually almost made me cum myself, before he yelled out, and I felt him unloading into the condom. I then asked him for money, he paid me $300, and I left to get a cab.
Anyway, you know how the story goes, intended to have him just once, but kept getting calls, finally agreed, happened again and again, finally got a look at his bank statement, gave him the message that I wanted him to propose, and voila! Here I am. Happily married for a fifth time, to a guy who's 190lbs of pure muscle, with a yearly income of $5 million, and a cock that fits me! Plus, between you and me, I don't think he showers that often, and he's got that 'locker-room' smell about him, that really gets my pussy dripping.
Now back to the present. We were in the large hotel suite, which must've cost a packet, but I didn't really care by that time, and I'm boiling hot in my wedding dress in this fucking Hawaii heat, and he's just standing there, grinning again, like the first night we met.
"So," a said, removing my black jacket that I had worn of the flight, to deflect all the interested eyes to my white dress, and therefore avoid pointless questions and comments of congratulations "What do we do now?"
"Well," he said, in that deep southern drawl of his that makes him sound so attractively primitive "If I remember the custom, we can't do the next part while we're clothed!"
I smiled at his dry attempt at humour, and unhooked my dress straps, while he unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing his hugely muscular chest and arms, with that gorgeous fantasy tattoo over the left pec and shoulder.
