Getting Lucky
The first time I ever fucked my big sister was completely unplanned, I swear.
Do you know those hotel suites for big gamblers that you read about with the stripper poles? It starts there. I'm a bit of a degenerate gambler. I live a pretty quiet life in a city in Nebraska as a law clerk. You can live inexpensively. Then twice a year, I go to Vegas and blow it all. I mean, all of it. If I have a nickel in my pocket on the way out of town, I drop it into the airport slot machines. And if I win off that, I might have to put off my flight. I don't have to gamble it all... there's plenty of things to spend money on in Vegas. But it's all going to expensive, adult fun.
So the year I'm talking about, I took my big sister Marta. I get some pretty nice offers from casinos, and sometimes my family members like to take advantage. Marta's not much of a gambler, but she likes to drink and have fun. The first night I'm there, my sister gets all dolled up to meet with some friends. I take a nap, and have a little walk down the Strip. I play a little of this and that as I go, nothing serious. This craps table catches my eye, and after blowing through $20K in half an hour, I went on a run. Suddenly, I was up $150K and this casino host, Geoff, was my new best friend. He finds out I have a room in a casino nearby, and of course, that won't do at all. I must stay here! So to make sure I move, he offers me what he calls the action suite. Pool table, wet bar, stripper pole with a shower. He takes me up and shows me around. There's this two story high living room with windows looking out on the Strip, like thirty-five floors up. A fully stocked wet bar is on one side ("Everything comped," Geoff says) and this stripper pole is on the other. It goes up two stories, the whole way to the ceiling. There are showerheads on two sides. A pool table with red felt in the middle finishes it. Everything smells a little like disinfectant, but even a fratboy's perfect fantasy has to make some nod to cleanliness.
"What's the rent here?" I asked him.
"For you," said my new best friend, "all this and everything in it is free."
"Well I guess you got a deal," I said.
I called up my sister to tell her about my luck. There was loud music in the background when she answered, and she had to call me back.
"Where are you now?" I asked.
"I'm in the bathroom, with my underwear around my knees. What's up?" asked Marta.
"You didn't have anything to eat," I said.
"Nope! Too busy drinkin'! These people I'm with, Danny, they are a bad influence on me. Very, very bad."
I told her about my win and the action suite, and she screamed.
"That's crazy! Oh my God! You are the luckiest fucker! My fucking brother is the luckiest fucker in Las Vegas!" I could hear whoops in the bathroom.
"Bring the girls up," I said, and told her the room number.
"You wish! I'm having too much fun! We'll all come up tomorrow or something. Hey!" she said indignantly into the phone. "Are you leaving me a whole hotel room to myself all night long in this town of loosened inhibitions?"
"I guess I am," I said.
"Well, call first," she said and guffawed.
My sister is married and has two little kids. Her husband Tom is an office manager, kind of dull. I don't know what he does for fun, and he doesn't know what I do either.
"Oh my God," Marta said. "Shellie just handed me a fucking shot under the stall door. A fucking shot! Shellie, what is this?"
I heard a voice in the background yell, "Just drink it you dirty slut!" and my sister screamed with laughter.
"Danny," my sister said very seriously, "I want you to know that normally I would never drink a shot that someone handed me under the door of a toilet stall." There was more laughter from Shellie and others.
"But this is Vegas," I said.
I heard a gulp.
"Is your bra still on?" I asked.
"Still on what?" she said. "See you in the morning!"
A minute later she texted me a picture of her face next to a roll of toilet paper, her two hands pushing her cleavage up into a nice big shelf, with an upside down shot glass propped up on it. Her make-up was still perfect, though. She'd been putting on the drunk a little for her friends.
So I was all alone in this big hotel room. I walked into the first bed room (big bed) and the second (giant bed, bowl of condoms on the nightstand.) I looked into the bathroom (hot tub for two, if you didn't want to touch each other, and for four if you did.) I made myself a cuba libra, as grandma used to call it.
There's not much lonelier than an empty party room.
"Geoff," I said to on the phone, "I want company."
Look: my family knows I'm a gambler and a like to live it up in Vegas. Maybe they figure I'm out picking up girls. The truth is I'm kind of timid. I don't have much of a line. But when I hire women, I don't have to. I usually just went out to strip clubs, but it wasn't the first time I'd wanted company in my room. And anyway, I figured that there wasn't much chance of my sister making it over, and no one else knew me but new best friend and best enabler, Geoff. So if I hired a little sexy company, who was to be the wiser?
"You got it," said Geoff. "What kind of new friend do you want to make?"
I pictured Marta's friend Shellie in my head. Marta was short, with long dark curly hair, big lips and big boobs. Shellie, by contrast, was a little taller than me with a wide ass, big legs, and short blonde hair. Her skin was pale and even before any make-up, her lips were red. I'd often thought about her big nipples, hard on her little perky breasts, and how red they must be too. And of course, she was hilarious. I described Shellie to Geoff, and even texted him a picture.
"I know just the woman," Geoff said. "Listen, your play won't cover her tab yet. It's two grand, she brings her own toys, and it's all night, but I understand if that's not to your liking."
"I just won a hundred and fifty gees," I said, "if she's enough like Shellie, that's a bargain."
"I'm here to make your dreams come true," said Geoff.
An hour and a half later, the doorbell to the suite rang. It was 'Shellie'. She burst through the door as soon as I opened it and dropped a pink gym bag right on the pool table, starting a line of chatter that banished any awkward silences and made me feel comfortable. I paid her and made her a vodka soda and we sat on one of the couches facing the stripper pole and chatted. I told her about this erotic memory I'd had about Shellie from a party one late night in my sister's backyard. They were both standing on the picnic table, hiking up their skirts to the middle of their thighs. Both of them had hard nipples inside little cotton tank tops, and Shellie's nice wide ass stuck out far enough that from below and behind, I could see her blue panties tight over her pussy.
"Like this?" said my Shellie. She stood up on the pool table and hiked up her skirt little by little. She had the same kind of big ass and legs, and in high heels her ass stuck out nicely. Her panties were little and black, though. She'd probably waxed, because those panties didn't leave much to the imagination and there wasn't any hair I could see. So it wasn't quite the same, which didn't stop my dick from getting nice and hard. Pretty soon, I had pushed those panties to the side and gotten my face right up in there while she straddled the corner pocket. Like everything else in the room, she smelled a little too much like perfume and disinfectant, but I loved eating her out anyway. I rubbed my hands all over that fantastic ass and when she came, she closed her thighs up tight on me until I started to see spots.
"Stand up straight," she purred. "I want to take your pants off you."
