Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I get so tired of this city sometimes. There was a time when I thought I’d never get sick of it. Vegas is so impressive the first time you see it- all lights and glitter and 24-hour fun. Just like they say in the movies about it.
I came here with my boyfriend just after I’d turned twenty-one, and my eyes glazed over with all of it instantly. And man, was it was a blast- until it all went wrong with Joe and his growing gambling problem. He took out loans and gambled them away, losing job after job for abusing casino privileges. He fell fast and hard; another familiar story in this city.
Of course, he blew town. Woke up one morning… no more Joe. He didn’t even leave the last measly frozen burrito in the fridge for me.
Fast forward through two and a half confusing years, and I’m still here, except now all I do is carry change from old lady to old lady, each of them sucking down their salty dogs and martinis and plunking coins into slots like there’s no tomorrow. The casino I work at isn’t on the strip. Not even on Fremont. It’s nowhere in the middle of Vegas, so obscure that even the owner seems to have forgotten it existed, since no one can remember ever meeting him.
Twenty-three. No prospects, no boyfriend, no family except my brother in the Army and a loser stepfather somewhere in Texas. Not even a freaking cat to come home to at night. All I had going for me was that I looked good in that skimpy change-girl outfit.
“Dead Endsville, baby!” Some liquored-up, tired-looking woman once said that to me as I’d walked up to the entrance of The Venetian a few months ago.
I’d come to the strip looking for fun after a bad night at the casino, fending off drunken men who thought that dropping wads of cash on the tables gave them license to grope the help.
I glanced anxiously at that old woman, her bleary gaze seeming to peer right through to my worst fears, and shuddered as I walked inside the hotel.
I tried to shake it off as I stood watching the fake gondoliers, but she was right. I was stuck in a rut, trapped by a town that, if it hadn’t already, would end up corrupting me to the core. And what in the world did I have besides looks that would eventually fade?
Well, I did have my car. I’d saved for that rust heap- saved even more to fix it up- for as long as I’d been working that crappy job. A cherry-red ’62 Chevrolet Nova convertible. It was a piece of shit when I got it for $500. But I bought parts and worked on that baby myself until it was in tip-top shape. Except the paint job- I had that professionally done.
Okay, so she’s no Ferrari, but I look damn good driving down the strip. And what I love to do most is take my car out and drive away. Just go tour the Nevada back roads, top down, radio blaring oldies, sometimes stopping to look at the stars, always hoping the sun won’t rise. But, inevitably, dawn always creeps over the horizon with the scorching heat of the sun, and reality comes crashing back down.
The last couple months, every Friday night, I’d end up at this old diner somewhere between here and Laughlin. Just another greasy spoon joint to stop in at and get a 3 a.m. breakfast after driving through the desert all night. It sure beat staying out ’til dawn and getting depressed about where my pathetic life ranked in the scheme of things.
But pulling up to that same diner last Friday night, the radio bleating with the sounds of an Elvis marathon, I knew all too well what it really was that kept me coming back, and why I felt a glimmer of something to look forward to when I went there. And, also, why I’d dressed in my most eye-popping short red dress that night.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. Thirty something, sitting there with a white cowboy hat shading his face, hunched over a cup of coffee, keeping to himself. He was six feet plus of raw male sexuality, relaxed as he could be, always in the corner booth.
It drove me nuts that I couldn’t really see his eyes under the rim of that hat. I could sure see his mouth, though. It was delectably wide with lips redder than most, like they would feel hot to the touch. Strong jaw, clean-shaven, bronzed skin, and well-developed muscles threatening to be fully defined underneath a loose, white snap-down shirt that was tucked into tight, worn out blue denims. Well-worn but polished black boots. Short, dark hair- well trimmed judging by the look of his short sideburns, and big, strong hands that wore no rings (yes!).
There was nothing I wanted more than that man. He was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, and he was at that diner every Friday night just like me.
Not that the stubborn prick ever noticed I was there. I’d find any excuse possible to walk by his booth; take the long way to my table or the restroom, or to the old jukebox, hoping to grab his attention as I walked slowly past. But that white cowboy hat of his never tipped upwards to indicate that he ever saw anything but that cheesy old Formica tabletop. Sometimes he’d be looking at a newspaper, but it was always laid flat escort bostancı on the table, not even leaving me a chance to catch his eye when he turned the pages.
A few weeks ago, I’d started wearing my sexiest perfume, again hoping to get him to look at me as I passed by. But the man had no reaction at all, like he was devoid of olfactory senses.
So, one night, I “accidentally” dropped my purse by his table as I walked past, making sure to give him an eyeful of cleavage when I bent over to pick it up. The sonofabitch didn’t move even one muscle. I may as well have been flashing a brick wall.
But last Friday night, I was bringing out the big guns. Conscience and modesty be damned- I would not be ignored any longer, even if I had to throw myself at him.
Screwing up all the courage I could muster, I got up from my table and walked over to the jukebox. After perusing the selection for a few moments, the perfect song leapt out. I fed a quarter into the slot and an electronic arm moved over rows of shiny black vinyls before selecting a single disc and swinging it into place. Keeping in the spirit of the evening, Elvis started to croon that it was now or never.
I turned around and took a deep breath. There he was, hunched over his corner table as usual, that delicious-looking mouth of his on the rim of a coffee mug.
I walked over as alluringly as I could and sat down at his booth across from him, tossing my purse and keys casually down on the table. Not saying anything, I propped my elbows on the table, chin on my hands, and leaned over towards him, waiting for his reaction.
For what seemed like an eternity, he was silent.
But then, at last, his lips spread into a slow, cool smile as he took a long sip of black coffee.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Chevy Nova,” he said after he swallowed it down.
So he had noticed.
I opened my mouth to utter a witty, sexy line that I’d been reciting in my mind all night, but he caught me off-guard by suddenly swiping my car keys off the table.
“Let’s go for a drive.”
Stunned by his command, I sat there gaping at him as he stood up and threw ten bucks on the table.
And finally, I could see his eyes- big, brown, totally at ease, and looking down at me like he’d expected this all along. He picked up a worn black leather jacket that he languidly tossed over his shoulder.
He flashed a charming grin as he stuffed his wallet into his back pocket.
“Well, are you just gonna sit there and let me take your car, sweetheart, or are you comin’?”
There was no time to waste. I couldn’t get up fast enough, and followed close on his heels until we reached the door. It’s bell jingled as he opened it for me, tipping his hat.
If only I’d known it would be this easy, I thought. I would’ve thrown myself at him weeks ago.
He took the lead and I followed him out to my car, admiring his gorgeous rear and the easy strut he walked with, his boots clicking on the pavement. He opened the passenger door for me and I slid in, noticing what a handsome face he had now that I could really see all of it. He’d tipped his hat back and was smiling at me as he shut the door. I melted at that smile and stared sappily up at him.
He shook his head, chuckling as he walked over to the driver’s side and let himself in. He seemed very amused by the whole situation, and I had to wonder what was so humorous.
Had the man just been waiting for me to make the first move all along? Was I being played like a violin here, or what?
Oh, I didn’t care. Hell, I was with him, wasn’t I? That’s what I wanted.
The Nova purred to life when he turned the ignition, its radio already turned onto my favorite oldies station- the one which was having a Presley marathon. He pulled out onto the highway and we drove in silence, listening as Elvis came on once again, rocking away with “I Got Stung.”
It felt strange to be a passenger in my own car. If you’d asked me an hour before if I’d ever let anyone else drive it, I would have laughed in your face with a resounding, “No!” But I didn’t care when it came to him. He could drive anything of mine he wanted anytime.
I had no clue where he was taking us, but decided to go with the flow, letting every bit of common sense I had fly away with the wind that rushed through my hair.
He, on the other hand, was still grinning as if highly amused.
“So what’s so funny?” I finally asked.
He shook his head.
“You, girl. You’re a mighty funny one.”
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to come over to my table back there.” He paused to laugh before continuing. “You could’ve just said ‘hi’, you know.”
“Well, so could you,” I said playfully, scooting next to him.
“Well, I suppose you’re right there.” He cocked his head to one side, smiling as he wrapped his arm around me.
“So why didn’t you?
He smirked, pausing before he answered. “I guess you could just say I’m the ümraniye escort shy type.”
I raised my eyebrow. Somehow I doubted there was anything really shy about this man.
He seemed to be quite content just driving along, and another silence ensued before I decided to speak up again.
“So, how’s she feel?” I asked, truly impressed with the way he handled my car, which was gliding smoothly along the highway.
“Oh, real good,” he replied, squeezing my arm. “I had one of these when I was a kid. You’ve got good taste. Thank for letting me drive her. Brings back memories, that’s for sure.”
I smirked. I couldn’t help but notice that guys usually went nuts for my vehicle. They were always impressed that I’d fixed it up myself, to boot. Guys usually have cars to attract women. But it worked in reverse for me.
It struck me all of a sudden that I didn’t even know the name of this man who was taking us to who knows where.
“So what do I call you?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’ll do for now,” he smiled, looking into my eyes for a brief moment before turning back to the road. “What do I call you?”
“Lisa.” I licked my lips before I answered, now in full ‘come hither’ mode.
“Lisa…” he trailed off for a moment, and then grinned. “Miss Lisa Nova. I like that.”
He pulled me closer to him, his hand wrapped around my torso.
I laid my head on his shoulder. God, life felt so good at that moment. There, on a desert highway, stars above us, night-cooled air rushing over me, the King commanding the stereo, and this gorgeous man at my side. Driving my car.
Emboldened, I let my hand rest on his knee and nuzzled my face into his neck, drinking in the scent of a wonderfully spicy aftershave I didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it drove me crazy, sending shivers down my spine.
I sighed, and tentatively kissed the nook under his jaw line while my hand massaged his thigh, feeling his muscles flex as he increased pressure on the accelerator. I opened my mouth, my tongue dancing on the salty-sweet skin of his neck.
“Oh, my…” he drawled, obviously enjoying my attentions. “You don’t waste time, do you, Lisa Nova?”
The only answer I made was the satisfied smile he could probably feel as I continued to nibble and kiss his neck, and my hand moved all the way to his groin. I was dying to touch him there to see for myself just how much he was responding, and wasn’t disappointed upon feeling a hot, solid length of hard flesh encased in that denim.
Momentarily, though, as I looked up at him, I was a little annoyed. Here I was, soaking wet, fondling a man who I’d let drive my own car without a word of protest, burning for him. And he seemed in complete control, eyes locked on the road, a smile of complete relaxation on his face.
But my frustration didn’t last long. He was melting fast as my hand applied pressure to his crotch. He shifted in the driver’s seat, spreading his legs ever so slightly, giving me more access. A low, short “mmm” sounded from his throat as I ran my hand along the length of his obscured hard-on, and he smiled as if he were a child pleased by his first taste of candy.
Encouraged, I unbuttoned the fly of his jeans, my body pulsing at the sound of him sucking in a quick breath, the feel of him squirming in the seat. He was starting to lose control. I knew then that I had him.
He was wearing boxers, but his erection didn’t pop out. It strained at an unwieldy angle, still tucked in by the thick denim despite its raging hardness. My hand slipped underneath his jeans and I massaged the length of his engorged cock with my palm through the thin cotton of his boxers, and continued kissing his neck, tasting sweat as he started to perspire.
“Sweet Jesus…” I heard him mutter under his breath.
“You like that?” I whispered.
I’d never felt so triumphant, so naughty in my life. Sure, Joe and I had our moments, but he’d been my first and last boyfriend, and what with me always being the romantic type, I never dallied with anyone else. And I’d never done anything this spontaneous, let alone with someone I’d just met. Evan probably thought I was a real hussy the way I was behaving.
But I wanted him so badly I didn’t care if I was acting like a brazen slut. I’d do him right there in the seat as he drove if he let me.
My mouth moved from his neck to his lips. Another longing moan came from him as I kissed him hungrily. Just as I had imagined, his lips were hot and ready, devouring mine luxuriously. His tongue immediately met my own, insistently prodding into my mouth. I kissed him voraciously, concentrated heat raging in my lower belly, spreading like wildfire to my loins, which ached with need.
I purposely hadn’t worn any panties that night, and I was so turned on that wetness was starting to trickle down my inner thighs, spread by the wriggling I had to do to get access to him in the confines of the seat.
I crawled over on top of him kartal escort bayan and he welcomed me, at first reaching around and cupping my rear with his free hand, before it wandered around up to my hip and then my breasts and down again, like he was taking a quick inventory of my body. His touch set me on fire as his hand crept up my leg, leisurely massaging my thigh as it journeyed towards my crotch. He reached the place that had been dampened by my juices, and suddenly I heard a screeching of tires.
“Oh, my God…” he muttered. “Just hold on there a moment… I don’t want to wreck your car, now.”
For the first time since I’d started making out with him, I realized I must have been blocking his view of the road. The whole event served as a testament to his good driving abilities. He hadn’t swerved once.
Jarred by the motion of the car slowing down so abruptly, I twisted around to see that he was pulling into a motel. There were dozens of them along this highway.
Evan gently pushed me off of him as he parked in front of the main office, his lips lingering on mine just long enough for me to savor his taste. His mouth tasted of raw lust and coffee, and at that moment, coffee was the most powerful aphrodisiac under the sun. Or, in that case, the moon.
“Just hold that thought, Lisa,” he said as he tore his lips from mine.
He got out of the car and did his jeans up with some difficulty, not able to do up the top two buttons. He leaned over to kiss me again with the promise of being right back, and went into the office with his shirt untucked, evidently hoping it would cover up his hard-on.
I stretched out after he disappeared, loving the moment. The woeful strains of “Love Me” floated over the airwaves through my radio, and I turned it up. The smell of the desert air, of my own arousal, knowing that I had him at last in my grasp- it was almost too delicious to take. I closed my eyes to drink it all in.
Before the King crooned the last “oh, yeah” of the song, Evan was back, looking down at me with that cocky smile, getting into the car again. I quickly scooted by him once more as he drove up to what was our door, and killed the engine.
As soon as it died, he leaned into me with a hungry kiss that took my breath away. Never had I been kissed with so much need. His big hands grabbed under me and cupped my ass as his tongue delved into my mouth softly, searching out my own with a groan. I wrapped my limbs around him tight and tried to pull him down on top of me.
But, as had been the case so far, he had more patience than I, and held me up against him. I didn’t notice it, but he got the door unlatched behind him so he could pull me out of the car. He did so easily as I clung to him, my arms and legs clutching fast to his body. It was only when he chuckled into my mouth that I realized he was standing upright, walking towards the motel room door with me wrapped around him like a huggy bear. I giggled, continued to kiss him.
“Damn, girl,” he murmured, laughing again as he pressed me against the outer wall of the room, releasing one hand so he could fish the key out of his pocket.
I thrust up against him, grinding my bare crotch against his clothed one as he put the key in the slot.
He nearly yelped at that, pushing the door open with such force that it banged hard against the doorstop, and rushed inside like a fireman on a drill, the door slamming shut from the inertia.
Now mercifully alone together, he collapsed on top of me on the bed. I kept writhing against him, but he took control of his own lust quickly, separating his lips from mine.
He was up over me, kneeling between my legs, and ran his hands slowly over the whole length of my body, delighting in the feel of every square inch. The desire was evident in his body language, but all the same, he settled back with a smile that bespoke pure patience.
“So,” he said, moving his hands up my thighs, inching my skirt up, “what do you want, Miss Nova?”
I wanted to scream out in agony at such a ridiculous question. But I knew what he was doing. He was teasing me, making me beg.
“I want you,” I managed to utter, breathless.
“You want me? Oh, my…” he breathed, gorgeous brown eyes roving over every curve of my body.
His hands once again roamed up to my thighs where my juices had flowed and his eyes danced with amusement upon feeling how aroused I was.
“I guess you must want me pretty bad,” he said, cocking his head with a sweet smile. “What do you say when you want something that bad?”
I closed my eyes, lost in a haze of delirious lust, and my hand unconsciously wandered up to my face
“Well,” he said, and I marveled at the control in his voice. He sounded like he had all the time in the world. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t give the lady what she wants?”
Suddenly there was a creaking of springs and my eyelids fluttered open. He was standing at the foot of the bed, unsnapping his shirt.
I whimpered at the sight of his bare chest and started to suck on my fingers, wishing they were the cock that I could see bulging in his pants. His strong pecs were covered with a fine, thin covering of dark hair that trailed tantalizingly down and past his navel.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32