Note to readers: thanks to everyone for your patience in waiting for this episode (and the detailed suggestions for it!) Hope you enjoy it!
After leaving the hotel, Derek and I stopped at a 24-hour lingerie store, of which Las Vegas boasted a surprising number. We darted inside, and I purchased a pair of lacy white panties that would match my white bra, stockings and garter belt, worn beneath the white blouse and denim skirt that I had worn on my flight to Las Vegas, less than 48 hours ago.
As this particular fantasy had developed over the years, it had always included silk panties, and now, as I slipped them over my stockings in the nearly-abandoned parking lot as Derek watched, my heart pounded as I imagined how they would be removed.
Returning to the passenger seat of Derek's rental car, I tried to breathe normally as we left the parking lot and drove onto one of the major streets of Las Vegas. I gazed blankly out the window, amazed that the intense sex I had experienced since arriving in Las Vegas now seemed diminished to something like a mere appetizer, as I anticipated the imminent fulfillment of my deepest, darkest fantasy.
The city's hotels and casinos turned into office buildings and then into housing as Derek drove through the streets. My stomach tensed, as did my pussy.
"So does Jack know about this particular fantasy?" Derek asked as we turned onto another major thoroughfare. I squirmed in my seat, the silk panties rubbing deliciously against my ass – still tender from the spankings I had received in the limo on the way back from the nightclub.
"Um, he does, sort of," I replied as I leaned my head back on the headrest. "A few years ago, we got away for a week on St. Kitts, just the two of us. He wanted me to tell him a fantasy about me having sex with another man, and I used one kind of like this."
After a few seconds, Derek spoke again. "So what did he think of it?"
I shifted again. "He, ah, seemed pretty turned on by it, and he tried a few times to tell me stories about that kind of situation, but it seemed like he didn't really understand all the dimensions of the fantasy."
I paused for a moment.
"Actually, I don't even understand all the dimensions of the fantasy, it's just something that's turned me on for years…decades."
I looked at Derek, his handsome profile alternately illuminated and darkened as we passed through the cones of light thrown off by streetlights.
"Um, do you think it's strange?" I asked. I saw a slight smile curl up the sides of his mouth into a smile. "Well, it's not something I'd thought of, but given your other preferences, I can see how it would turn you on."
"If it makes you feel any better," he added a moment later, "Cynthia says she has similar fantasies. I always thought that was because she was black, but who knows, maybe if they're as strong for her as they are for you, maybe that's my ticket to getting her to have sex with other men. Or at least to get her to give up her ass to me."
We pulled into a driveway, blocked off by a large, imposing gate. "We're here," Derek announced as he lowered the window and pressed a button on the intercom box.
"Yes?" the metallic voice answered. "It's Derek and Tammy, we spoke on the phone earlier?"
"Excellent," the voice said. "Pull right up to the garage, I'll meet you there." The gates slowly swung open, and my heart pounded as I looked at the enormous house, the first floor windows brightly lit despite the late hour. Perhaps a dozen cars were parked around a circular driveway in front of the house – I gulped, realizing that the number of vehicles meant that Derek couldn't be "staging" this with only his football buddies.
My fantasy would be fulfilled with, and in front of, total strangers…
Derek slowly pulled up to the garage doors, and turned off the ignition. "Last chance to go back, Tammy," he said.
I nervously smoothed my denim skirt over my thighs, and shook my head. "No, I…I need to do this now," I whispered in reply. As we got out of the car, the garage door opened, and Derek took my hand as we walked through the garage to the house, the firmness of his grip confirming that I had, indeed, passed the point of no return on living out my fantasy.
The door to the house opened, and there, silhouetted in the light, was the master of ceremonies from the nightclub. "Nice to see the two of you again," he said matter of factly as he shook Derek's hand, and gave me a polite kiss on the cheek. We walked into an enormous kitchen, and he offered us a glass of wine, which I eagerly accepted.
"I must say, Tammy," he noted as he poured the wine, "when your boyfriend called, I had hoped you had changed your mind about trying a
tres gotas
." He handed the glass to me and smiled. "But perhaps another time."
I took the glass from him, noticing that my hand was shaking slightly.
"Running a sex club must be pretty profitable," Derek said, looking around the kitchen, the sort of thing one might see in
Architectural Digest
. Our host laughed.
"Unfortunately, no. I had a little skill and a lot of luck in the commodities pits, and I quit while I was way ahead. The club is really more of a hobby than anything else."
I downed the glass of wine, feeling like I would orgasm at any second.
"Judging by the number of cars out front, it would seem there's a lot of interest?" Derek asked.
Our host – whose name was Gary – nodded. "Indeed," he said, looking at me. "It wasn't too difficult to find a good number of men who would be interested in joining us on such short notice," he said.
