What Happens... Stays... Day 02

This is the second of a six-part series of a couple that travels to Las Vegas for an extended weekend. While each chapter is written to stand alone, it is best to read them in sequence to fully appreciate the journey they take as they push the boundaries of their sexuality and their relationship.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

WHAT HAPPENS ... STAYS ... DAY TWO

DAY TWO - THURSDAY

The alarm was set for 6:30 am, but Michael was awake before 6:00, troubled by what the day might bring. Although there were festivities last night, and lots of food and alcohol, the business conference he was attending in Vegas would start in earnest this morning. He knew the agenda was going to change, but he wasn't sure exactly how. Restructuring of the operating division in which he was an executive was inevitable, and he needed to guide his team through the difficult times ahead. He needed to be at his best.

He quietly slid out from under the sheet and sat at the edge of the bed. Looking over his shoulder he watched his lovely wife sleeping on her back, lightly snoring as she always did when in that position. Last evening was a nice distraction from the stress and fatigue he had been feeling. She had told him on the dance floor that she was going to give him a blow job, but the night ended quite differently, not that anyone was complaining. The sex was intense. Erotic. Primal. And mostly very satisfying. God she was a great piece of ass he chuckled to himself. I hope this weekend doesn't fuck things up with us.

Just as he was finishing up his shower, Christine walked into his bathroom, naked. For a woman in her fifties, she looked damn fine he thought. She smiled at him through the fog, went to the toilet to pee, and then stepped into the shower as Michael was stepping out. Placing a hand on his chest to impede his progress, she rose on her tiptoes and gave her husband a passionate good morning kiss, bad breath and all.

"Hey handsome. Sleep well?" she asked.

"I did! At least in part because of the activity in the living room." he replied grinning. "How are the nipples?"

"I think they will be fine. I put a little cream on them before we went to bed."

Laughing, Michael grabbed a towel and stepped away to dry off and get ready for the conference.

Forty-five minutes later the couple went down to breakfast together and found a table where one of his Directors, Ron Sanders was sitting with his wife, also named Christine. Some members of his team were with him along with a pair that Ron knew from the sales department. The talk was pleasant, but there seemed to be some tension in the air.

There was a full day of activities planned, with business in the morning in one of the main convention rooms at the Bellagio Hotel, and recreational activities in the afternoon and evening. The general assembly meeting, to which spouses were not invited, began at 9:00am with the Division President, Tom Munson taking the stage. The conference proceeded much as Michael expected with a parade of executives and a major customer talking about products and services and the importance of strategic relationships. But for almost two hours no one mentioned the elephant in the room.

When Tom returned to the stage the mood changed. Everyone knew that the corporation was going through significant transformation as the market environment was evolving, and this Division would also see change. He put the best positive spin on the future but remained quite vague. There would be more information coming tomorrow, Tom then announced, and instructed each member of the executive team to meet with their managers immediately following the morning session. He wrapped up about 30 minutes early, leaving most of the people in the room in a state of confusion, or angst, or worse.

Michael fended off questions from his people as he sought out his boss, Jack Wright. He learned, along with the other VP's and support staff, that Tom would be holding a meeting with the entire executive team in about 20 minutes. Michael quickly found his Executive Assistant, Robert Davidson, and asked that he attend with him. He then called Christine and left a message on her cell that she might have to go on the afternoon excursion to Hoover Dam without him.

The meeting was informative and thankfully brief. Michael and the other attendees got a good idea of what would be coming over the next two to six months, and then each major department head took their direct reports to a separate conference room to talk more specifics. It seemed, at least in the near term, his team would not be subjected to layoffs, but budget cutting was coming as was a hiring freeze.

When the meeting ended, Michael asked Robert to assemble all of his team in the morning. He wanted to address them and provide the information they deserved before going into the next day's general meeting. Michael outlined what he wanted to say. Robert offered some excellent suggestions, they agreed that 7:30 would be a good time, and the EA then went off to make it happen. Robert was indispensable to Michael, who had a deep appreciation for the young man's intellect and skills. Tomorrow was not going to be fun, but it was not going to be as bad as was feared.

*****

Michael was able to join his wife for the afternoon excursion where they learned a great deal about the construction of Hoover Dam and the environmental and economic impact on the area and beyond. It was an enjoyable escape, but Michael kept thinking about the business.

Back at the hotel they had just enough time to clean up and grab a quick light dinner before heading to the O Theatre for the 9:00pm performance of "O" by Cirque du Soleil. The company had purchased tickets for all of the conference attendees and their guests. The show was more than astonishing. They had been to a couple of Cirque du Soleil performances back home in Atlanta, but nothing as extravagant as this. It was pure magic and beauty and grace. It certainly took his mind off of the realities of Michael's present world. And it was a most welcome diversion.

When they were returning from the theatre, Christine grabbed Michael's arm.

"Let's go play some blackjack." she said, rather insistently.

"Sure. How about the ten-dollar tables."

"OK!" She was excited. And off they went.

Michael had budgeted $200 for gambling each day. Once it was gone, that was it until the next day. With chips in hand, they found a table with three other people already seated: what appeared to be a middle-aged couple and a single young guy. Settling in they began to play. Neither of them were gamblers, but Christine really enjoyed blackjack, and since Michael was quite good with math and probability, he thought he could easily outplay her. He was wrong.

In a surprisingly short span of time, Michael had lost his $200 and had to borrow some of Christine's winnings to try to get even. He didn't. And now it was getting late.

It was well past midnight, and Michael was quite drained from the day's events. He knew he had to get up early and be in his best form when he stood in front of his team and explained to them what the future might hold for his organization. And he was still playing in his head exactly what he was going to say and how he was going to deliver the message. He needed to focus on this. He also needed to try to get some sleep.

"I really must get ready for tomorrow." he said, kissing Christine on the cheek. "You stay and have fun. You're on a roll. Just don't get into any trouble." he teased.

"Can't promise that!" she laughed. "I'll be up in a bit."

With that, he dragged himself off to their room.

*****

Christine sat at the blackjack table with her legs crossed. She was wearing a cute navy-blue dress with a little slit up the left side which exposed some of her thigh when she sat this way. It had short sleeves with a wide opening at the neck, cutting just below her collar bone. A gold Greek chain necklace accentuated her slender neck while small gold hoop earrings peaked through her short grey-blond hair. She was feeling confident and sexy and having fun. Afterall, she was winning.

"Buy you another?" someone asked her.

She had just finished a glass of champagne. Turning her head to see who had spoken she saw a rather handsome man with dark piercing eyes smiling at her. She paused, then thought, what the hell.

"Sure."

The stranger sat next to her and waved at a waitress, who took his order for drinks. She looked around the table. The middle-aged couple was still there, but two different men were now playing. Both kept glancing at her, or so she presumed. Returning her attention to the stranger, she thanked him for the drink before getting back to the game.

Her luck continued and her confidence grew. The couple had retired from the table, which left her with the three guys. The other two changed seats so they were all near Christine, and they all started hitting on her and offering to buy drinks. The dark eyed stranger occasionally placed a hand on her exposed thigh, each time getting a tad bolder. She was flattered and teased him, but the two newer players were kind of gross, she judged. As for Mr. Dark Eyes, well, he could be annoying but was definitely nice to look at. They continued to play and drink, much more than she was planning, when she finally decided it was time to leave. She gazed at the stranger.

"I really need to get back to my room. My husband is probably wondering what happened to me."

He smiled back at her. It was an adorable smile.

Remembering to tip the dealer, she stumbled a little as she slid off the chair. A hand steadied her.

"I'll escort you back. I think you may be a little drunk." the dark eyed man told her.

"I'm fine. Really."

But she wasn't and she knew it. The stranger knew as well and helped her take her chips to the cashier to cash out. He did the same at the next window, then walked her toward the elevators.

"What floor?" the man asked.

"Twenty-second."

"Hey! How about that! I'm on the twenty-first floor! Ya know, we could stop by my place on the way up and have a drink, or I could get you some water. Or coffee. To clear your head." He grinned.

"I bet." she laughed. "No. Thank you. I just need to get to bed."

His grin widened.

"MY bed!" She clarified.

He led her to the correct elevator and held her arm as they both stepped in.

"Well, just think. You'll be on top of me tonight." he remarked as he pushed the button for the twenty-second floor. "Do you like being on top?"

He just doesn't give up, she thought, and then as the elevator door closed, the stranger suddenly turned and moved close to her, forcing her against the wall. He pressed against her, hands on her shoulders. She could feel his manhood. He was not small, she sensed. Looking up at him she saw fire in his eyes. She wanted to say something, but before any words could form in her confused mind he bent down and kissed her. She did not resist. Then while kissing, his right hand shifted around to her ass, holding her firmly while grinding his pelvis into her.

It felt good. It shouldn't, but it did. Clearly the alcohol was affecting this behavior, she reasoned. She kissed him back. He became more aggressive, placing his left hand behind her head, kissing her hard and forcing his tongue into her mouth. As the kissing became more passionate, his right hand moved toward the front of her dress, reaching down to pull up the hem far enough so he could get the hand into the waist band of her panties.

I need to stop this, she told herself, but there was no willpower to do so. The kissing was intoxicating, and she was pinned against the wall. His fingers brushed past her pubic hair and rested for a moment on her mons. Then she felt a finger slide between her labia and easily slip inside her wet pussy. She moaned into his mouth. Tension started to build in her as a second finger was inserted and started moving in and out of her. She was getting close. Turning her head, she started whimpering into his shoulder while thrusting her hips. His mouth moved down to her lovely neck and sucked on it just below her right earlobe. That took her over the edge. She cried out softly as her muscles contracted and the orgasm washed over her.

"Twenty-second floor." the pleasant digital female voice of the elevator announced.

This somehow snapped Christine back to reality. This is my floor! With surprising force, she pushed the man back, extricating his hand from her crotch, and on shaky legs bolted for the door and into the hallway. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, but she was trying to run - or was she simply stumbling along like a woman who had too much to drink? Hoping she was going in the right direction she stopped in front of a door, looked up at the number and thought this must be her suite. She fumbled with her purse, searching for the key card. Once in hand she held it to the reader on the door. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing.

"Come OOon!" she whispered, stamping her heels.

Third time's a charm, right? Nothing.

Looking up at the number again she thought maybe it was the next one down. Sliding along the wall to keep her balance, she reached her destination and placed the key card on the reader. Green light! Pressing down on the handle she put a little more weight on the door with her shoulder than necessary. It swiftly swung open, her with it. She almost fell into the foyer, but thankfully caught herself. Closing the door as quickly as possible, she threw the latch for the lock and leaned back against the door, hoping the stranger had not followed her, and that no one had seen her in the hall.

Her heart was pounding, her panties were soaked, and she was highly aroused. Catching her breath, she moved toward the bedroom.

*****

Michael had returned to the suite a couple of hours earlier. He left the foyer light on, and one lamp in the living room. He walked into the bedroom and closed the door a little more than halfway. Too tired to go through his usual routine before going to bed, he undressed, put on his pajama bottoms, the only thing he typically wore to bed, and pulled back the comforter and blanket. He took the chocolates from the pillow and set them on the nightstand. Propping up a pillow against the headboard, he turned out the last light in the bedroom and crawled under the sheet.

He wanted to sleep. Desperately. But he kept playing through his head the speech he would give his team later that morning. He wanted it to be perfect, and felt he was close. Now if only he could sleep. Turn off his brain and sleep.

It came eventually, but briefly. Some strange, irrational dream woke him up. Immediately his mind was busy with the speech. A new idea! He liked it. Mentally cataloged it. He looked to his right and noticed the bed was empty. Christine must still be at the blackjack table. He thought about men hitting on the lone attractive woman. Maybe someone picked her up, took her to his room and was fucking her. Maybe a couple of guys. His cock started to swell. Back to the speech. Did his EA get in touch with everyone? Would he be able to show enough confidence when he talked. Would his team buy in? Maybe Christine was giving some stranger a blow job. And on and on it went, his thoughts muddled, until exhaustion finally swept over him and he dozed off again.

But this time was also short. Another dream. More vivid. Something was tugging at his bottoms. It was like the time he and his wife were wading in the waters of a remote beach on Cozumel and a powerful rogue wave came sweeping in and almost took his swimsuit with it as it receded back to the sea. But the feeling was different. His legs and butt weren't wet. Only his cock. It was a warm, smooth wet that moved up and down his growing member.

He opened his eyes and looked down. There was a head on his stomach. Someone was sucking on him and it felt oh so good. He put his head back and groaned, then reached down with his right hand, entangling his fingers in the hair that he knew belonged to his wife, encouraging her to take him deeper.

*****

Christine was so turned on when she entered the bedroom. She quickly stripped off her clothing and went straight for Michael's cock. It was already semi-hard when she touched it through his pajamas. She untied the drawstring and slid the fabric down, freeing the growing member and giving her easy access to put it in her mouth. She heard him groan and then felt his fingers in her hair. He was rock hard now. Increasing the intensity of her movements, she wondered what it would be like if she were sucking off the dark-eyed stranger who fingered her in the elevator. Or what if he was fucking her? Was his cock bigger than this one? Would he stretch her out. Would he bang her hard and then shoot his seed in her?

Her pussy was enflamed, so she released her grip from the shaft and moved her right hand down between her legs. At first two, and then three of her long slender fingers were fucking her cunt. Squirming and moaning she imagined all sorts of naughty things happening to her. As her next orgasm started to build, she sensed the cock in her mouth swell, the body under her head tense up and then a stream of warm cum exploded into her mouth as the man she was fellating cried out. She came. Hard. Yet she kept sucking the cock as it twitched and spurted smaller amounts of cum. It tasted wonderful. Another spasm. She wanted to get every drop, even as the penis softened and began retreating from her mouth.

Sidling up next to her husband she softly kissed him on the mouth.

"I love you."

But he heard nothing. He had finally fallen into a deep restful sleep.