Telemarketing Turnabout Pt 07

I felt that this story needed a little more, so Becca and her young man are back.

I hope you agree, and enjoy!

This is the first chapter in this category, so if you want to catch up on the history, I suggest going all the way back, beginning in the

Mature

category, then into the

Incest / Taboo

section.

I know I always ask for feedback, but in this case, I really need to know if you want more of this saga, so don't be shy.

*********************

One wedding, coming up.

The Friday afternoon before Becca's birthday came and went uneventfully. No introductory naked collision with Lizzie, as in my dream, because weather issues kept both Lizzie and Clayton from making the trip. While it took the pressure off this weekend, it prolonged the agony. I guess we'd all meet sometime, hopefully before our wedding anniversary.

Becca and I talked about the wedding, finally deciding that quick and simple was the way to go. Las Vegas, here we come.

***

Becca kissed me softly, and patted my chest. I was zonked, having just had my brains fucked out by her.

"I assume you're going to want to rest... would you mind terribly if I went down and spent some time in the sun by the pool? I'm still a little too wound up to sleep," she said quietly.

"Of course not, Sweetheart. I'll be okay in a few minutes. How will I find you?"

"I think you'll figure it out. I won't be hiding," came her response from the bathroom. She breezed back into the room.

"Give me about an hour, then come rescue me," she laughed.

"Rescue you?" I asked, a confused look on my face.

"Yes, darling. Come pick me up, I hope I don't sound egotistical, but I bet I'll get some attention down by the pool. I want you to come pick me up, like at a bar."

She had changed into her bathing suit in the bathroom, so I hadn't seen what she was wearing. Now a cover up hid her attire from view. To say I was curious would be an understatement. She picked up her sunhat, pursed her lips at me, and slipped out the door.

I laid there for a few more minutes, but her slightly cryptic behaviour had me wondering, and that feeling was stronger than my fatigue. I got up, stood under the shower for a few minutes, then dressed and followed in her wake.

If only our room faced over the pool area, I would have been able to locate her easily, but since I had been denied aerial surveillance, I was forced to do ground recon. As soon as I stepped out onto the deck, I knew it would take a while.

I'd been to Vegas before, but hadn't spent much, or any, time around the pool at any of the hotels I'd stayed at. Now we were staying at a

big

hotel, the pool area was

gigantic,

and it was full... of incredibly beautiful women, and guys trying to get next to one of them. At least I'd have fun while I searched.

I started on the perimeter. There were several little bars located around the outer edge, and I used them as vantage points, scanning the immediate area around them. I was shading my eyes, looking for Becca, when I heard a sultry voice.

"Looking for anything in particular?" It asked. I turned, coming face to face with a tall, stunning blonde, clad in a scanty yellow bikini. My eyes went on autopilot, visually caressing her lean, lithe body, before getting stuck on her big tits, a pair that put Becca's marvels to shame. By the time I dragged my gaze up to her eyes, hidden behind large sunglasses, she was smiling.

"Yes, sorry," I gulped, taking in her beauty. "Actually, someone in particular."

"You're staying here, I take it?" she asked, not wanting to take no for an answer.

"Yes, with my wife, or at least, she'll be my wife tomorrow," I replied, fighting to keep my eyeline at the neck level or higher. She wasn't making it easy, tugging at the halter strings of her top, and making her huge globes jiggle. She seemed to like the news that I wasn't yet 'officially' taken.

"Hmmm," she said, tipping her glasses down. She fixed me with her piercing blue eyes, and gave me a quick undress with them. "Well, if you can't find her, or you change your mind, come find me. I'm Milan... room 17221." The glasses came back up, she smiled incandescently again, and turned away, walking with a memorable waggle. She caught me watching her, too.

Damn, there were hundreds of gorgeous women out here. Tall ones, short ones... Bikinis, or sexy one-piecers...and, of course, all the colours of the rainbow, in skin tone and hair as well. I even saw a much-tattooed, rail thin, purple haired chick, with huge, obviously enhanced knockers, wearing a tiny bikini that matched her hair, but barely covered her pierced nipples. Actually, I have her to thank, in a fashion, for finally finding my darling Becca, as I was watching her jiggle past when I saw the group of people in the background, with a distinctive sunhat peeking through.

I made my way to the nearest bar, which gave me a view of Becca. She was laying on a sun lounge, in front of a private cabana. She had been right; her attire, or virtual lack thereof, had attracted a lot of attention. There were a half dozen guys hanging around, ogling her and trying to chat her up. I could hardly blame them.

Becca's bikini redefined 'brief'. A spider web of black strings with small swatches of fabric covering the vital areas, it concealed her nipples, just barely. The bottom half was equally tiny. Perhaps six square inches of fabric separated her from nudity. She was making me hard from this distance. The guys around her were all bulging, so she'd had an obvious effect on them as well.

I sat there, nursing a drink, watching from my observation post for a while. Becca was well oiled. She had started to apply it herself, but there was no shortage of volunteers to help. She had turned onto her stomach, and four of her suitors were rubbing oil into her back and legs. At first, they avoided the firm, bare flesh of her ass, but gradually, they became bolder, taking liberties while I watched. Now their hands kneaded the oil-slicked globes of her rear, and occasionally dipped their fingers onto the velvety skin of her inner thighs.

Well... I'd seen enough. These guys had pole vaulted across the line, from helping Becca to groping her, and groping her was

my

job. I finished my drink, stood, making myself as imposing as possible, and walked in her direction. When I stopped a few feet away, the two guys working her legs had one hand each between her legs, fingers very near to her barely covered pussy.

"Gentlemen," I began, staring them down. "You seem to have your hands on

my

lady." I jerked my thumb to the side. "Get lost."

One by one, they relented, although the last one lingered long enough to whisper something in her ear. She shook her head, sitting up and extending her hand to me. I helped her to her feet, and back into the high-heeled sandals she'd been wearing. She plucked up her hat and wrap, took my arm, and we walked back into the hotel. Well, I walked...she sauntered... paraded... jiggled... wiggled... bounced. I assume you get the idea.

We were in the elevator, and Becca was adjusting her cover-up, as the door began to close. Suddenly, a small, elegant hand reached in, causing the door to reverse, and a gorgeous blonde stepped in. She tipped her sunglasses down. It was the goddess from the pool deck, Milan.

"I see you found her," she said quietly, turning to Becca. "I hear congratulations are in order." She saw the look of confusion on Becca's face. "Your young man and I met while he was looking for you by the pool. He mentioned your upcoming nuptials." She paused, leaning into a very European hug with Becca. "Congratulations, again."

The elevator stopped on her floor, the seventeenth, and Milan took a step out, stopping at the threshold. She gestured to me. "May I?" she asked Becca, who paused, then nodded. "Congratulations," she whispered leaning in, pressing her huge breasts against me, and kissing me on the cheek. "She's lovely." One final question for us. "I wonder... would you please allow me to take you both to dinner tonight? To celebrate? I know it's terribly short notice, and I am virtually a stranger, but... well, it's a tradition in my culture to celebrate such occasions when they arrive. I assure you, money is not a factor. Let it be my wedding gift to you."

I had rarely seen Becca at a loss for words, but she was now.

"Please... Give it some thought, and let me know your decision. I'm sure your fiancé remembers my room number. Call me later," Milan added, letting the door close.

We rode in silence the remaining eleven floors to ours. Likewise, not a word from Becca as we walked down the hall to our door. I was beginning to think she was mad at me. I opened the door and followed her in.

She spun quickly and pinned me to the door as it closed, crushing her beautiful tits against my chest and her lips against mine.

Nope, not mad, just incredibly horny. I guess getting felt up by a bunch of strangers in public had turned her crank. A lot.

About twenty minutes later, I rolled off her panting, gasping, glowing body, having just made another deposit deep inside her dripping pussy. She had cum at least three times, testing the soundproofing of our suite each time, and despite the more than adequate air conditioning, we were both soaked in sweat.

"Thank... You," she breathed, her first conversational words since we got in the elevator. "Now, how did you meet the blonde bombshell?"

"Oh," I laughed, "I was wandering around, looking for you on the pool deck, and she tried to pick me up. I told her I was taken, but she seems pretty hard to dissuade."

"I see," she whispered. "So, call her back. Tell her we'd love to have dinner with her." She saw the surprise on my face. "That is... if you want to?"

Hmmmm, let's see. Having dinner with gorgeous, busty redhead... Good! Putting buxom blonde on the other arm... Better!

I picked up the phone, punched in Milan's room number, and ten minutes later, we had a date.

I won't profess to know where we were going, and Becca didn't know much more, but Milan was an admitted Vegas veteran, so we left ourselves in her very capable hands. Her only instruction had been to dress for dinner and dancing, which left a lot of latitude for Becca.

I let Becca pick my wardrobe for the night. Safer that way. No matter what I wore, I was going to be the afterthought among the group when we went out, of that I was sure. Becca was trying on every one of the six dresses she had brought with her, and had narrowed the choice to either a racy little red number that showed her legs to maximum effect but hid her other assets, or the perfect little black dress that made her tits look spectacular, and hugged her scrumptious ass as well. I voted for the black one, but I was biased, always looking for a way to get her big jugs on display.

Milan called, and we arranged a time to meet downstairs. We were a minute or two late getting there, and as we walked out, a man opened the door to a stretch limo waiting in front. He gestured for us to approach, and as we did, an impossibly long pair of sexy legs appeared within.

"Ms. DiNofrio is waiting for you," the driver said.

I held Becca's hand as she slid into the backseat of the car, joining her when I was able. My senses would take a while to catch up with us.

Milan was sitting quietly, looking incredible. Her fabulous curves were clad in snug black silk with golden trim, matching the radiant colour of her hair. I was stunned. Becca had finally come to the conclusion that you could never go wrong with the classic little black dress, so her tits were quite well displayed for my viewing pleasure, but Milan had succeeded in one-upping her. Actually, make that two-upped, as her mind boggling boobs were equally shown, their magnificent fullness rising and falling with her breathing.

A few minutes of predictable chit-chat followed, and I found myself in the middle of them on the backseat as they talked around me.

"Do you care to know where we're going, or are you up for a surprise?" Milan asked, smiling brightly. I deferred to Becca, who didn't care either way, so we listened while Milan said a few words in Italian to the driver. Off we went.

Our first stop was dinner, and we caught quite a few incredulous looks as we walked from the limo into the casino. I would have thought that a guy with a well built woman on his arm was hardly worth noticing in Vegas, given all the showgirls around. Perhaps it was the blonde bookend on the other arm that had attracted the extra attention. On their high-heels, both women were nearly six feet tall, so maybe that was it. I know if I hadn't been the one in the middle of them, I'd have been watching both pairs of big, jiggling tits bouncing along as we walked. When we arrived at the restaurant, Milan peeled off, talking to the maître de for a few seconds, and then gesturing for us to follow.

We walked to the back of the dining area, through a door, and into a private dining room. It was quieter back here, and we had a private server who helped us get seated at the large round table. She, the server, was one of the aforementioned showgirl types; blonde, scantily dressed in a tophat and tails, and very well stacked, with endlessly long legs. I glanced at Becca, who was busy checking her out as well, and she smiled back at me.

"Good evening, everyone... I'm Vanessa, and I will be taking care of your needs tonight," she said. We all introduced ourselves as Vanessa passed our menus around, and took our drink orders. "If there is anything that you'd like, please let me know," she smiled, her eyes lingering on mine for a few seconds, "whether it's on the menu or not, I'll do my best to get it for you." I watched her bare ass wiggle away, peeking out from under her tails as she left to get our drinks. When I turned back, Becca was giggling at me.

"Are you going to be okay, baby? If you're not careful, someone might step on your tongue!" she whispered, leaning over to kiss me, and giving my crotch a quick grope as she did.

I couldn't help noticing that Becca was resting her chest on the edge of the table again, as she always did, and as she had on our first night at the pub. She knew she was doing it, and she knew I loved it, because it really made her boobs look yummy. Apparently, Milan also took that seminar, because she was doing it, too. I had a veritable boob buffet right here at the table.

Vanessa was back, adding her own remarkable rack to the display. When she delivered our drinks, she bent from the waist, straight legged, and hung her big, round breasts out for inspection each time. Her 'tuxedo' top was more of a halter, scooped deep, and barely covered her nipples. She definitely was making me thirsty. I was happy to see that both Becca and Milan seemed to be enjoying the show as much as I was. When she left us after delivering our third round, Milan was the one who spoke up.

"My goodness, she has beautiful breasts, doesn't she? She's very pretty, overall, but those breasts... Do you think they're real?" she asked no one in particular.

"Hmmmm," Becca laughed, blushing a little at the topic of discussing another woman's tits, "hard to say. If they are, she's very lucky, given how lean she is." The booze was having an effect." Speaking of beautiful breasts, yours are magnificent, Milan. What do you think, honey?" she asked, turning to me.

Oh shit! How do I answer that one, without shooting myself?

"Um, whose boobs are we talking about, my dear? Yours are my favourite! " I offered, hoping that would end the conversation. It didn't. If anything, it only added to the fire I was in.

"Why, thank you, darling," she smiled, "but that's not what I asked. I asked," she repeated, "what you thought of Milan's breasts... They're lovely, aren't they?"

I looked over at Milan, who was smiling at me, enjoying my discomfort. She squeezed her arms together slightly, making her boobs swell upward more enticingly. I decided that honesty was the best strategy to take.

"I think, my Sweet, that if I wasn't already committed to you, and in love with you, that I would have accepted her offer to join her in her room. I think we'd be naked and sweaty right now and I would be greatly enjoying access to those beautiful breasts." Milan blushed, and I turned to Becca.

She smiled, and nodded. "And what of our sexy server's boobs? Do you think they're real, or has she had them done?"

Vanessa had just returned with some appetizers, and bent to place them on the table (the appetizers, not her boobs), showing off her tits once again. They did look good.

"Vanessa," I began, "may I ask you a question?"

"Of course," she laughed, smiling. She stood tall, adjusting her coat.

"We were just admiring your breasts. As you can see, both my dinner companions are... Shall we say, well endowed? We were..." She smiled, and held up her hand.

"Ah, yes... I know where you're going. The answer is no, they're not mine," she giggled, bouncing them slightly, "but I do have the receipts, so I guess they're mine now. Do you like them?" she asked, pulling her coat open and leaning forward.

I glanced first at Becca, then Milan. Both were smiling, and nodding.

"We certainly do."

"Well, then it's unanimous," she laughed, "because I love them! Worth every penny!"

Becca and Milan exchanged some coded gestures, and stood, walking off to the ladies' room. That left me alone with Vanessa.

"So, what brings you out tonight?" she asked, smiling down at me from her towering heels.

"We're celebrating... getting married tomorrow!" I replied, trying not to stare at her body. With me sitting and her standing, my eyeline was pretty much level with her thong-covered crotch. A little camel toe showed in the satiny fabric. Looking up at her eyes wasn't much easier, as it brought her mountainous tits into view.

"I would normally assume that meant you and one of the ladies, but things have changed, and this

is

Vegas! " she laughed, causing my eyes to drift onto her jiggling boobs.

"You would be correct," I laughed back, "about your assumption, not the other options."

"You and..."

"Me!" Becca chirped as she returned, with Milan a step behind. They took their seats. "He's my man," she smiled, her eyes glistening, "and tomorrow at 3, we make it official!"

Well then... I'll get the champagne to celebrate!" she smiled, turning quickly and briskly walking out. I wasn't able to keep from watching her cute ass wiggle under her tails as she left. When I turned back, Becca was grinning at me.

"She must do very well, tip wise," she laughed, "but I suppose that's the point."

A couple of minutes later, Vanessa returned with the bottle, and I watched her jiggle as she walked in. She stared directly at me, as though showing off for my benefit.

"With the compliments of the manager and our congratulations," she said, bending to pour glasses for the three of us. "I wonder if I might make a request?" She was pouring Becca's glass at the time she asked it, wisely leaving the decision in the bride's hands. "May I attend the wedding? I'm off tomorrow, and I love weddings."

Becca didn't even hesitate. "Of course you can... we'd love to have you!"

There was a slight pause as everyone processed the Freudian double entendre that Becca had just served up. When Vanessa turned back to face me, she was blushing slightly, and her eyes were sparkling more than before. She licked her plump lips unconsciously.

"Since you're coming... to the wedding, that is... you must have a drink with us, to celebrate," Becca added, extending her glass.

"Okay, but just a little one, or my boss will have my ass!" she laughed, taking the offered flute and sipping quickly.