by Bridgid and M
Everything was beautiful
when they first arrived in the suite.
A chilled bottle of champagne sat on the table in
the salon and there were several bouquets of fresh cut flowers as to be
expected with any grand suite at the Bellagio.
The journey from London was a long one and a bit of jet lag was to be
expected. That mixed with the climate change in Las Vegas had Max set the air
conditioning in the room down to a nippy sixty eight degrees. Max poured and
offered Erin a glass of Cristal.
"Tired, love?"
"Not so much tired as hot." She walked around the suite sipping her champagne
and was relieved to find there were two bedrooms. "Did you turn the air
conditioning up enough?"
"I set it at sixty eight Fahrenheit. What would that be in Celsius?" Setting
his glass down, he moved to the thermostat and pushed it down further into the
blue.
"There, that ought to do it. It does seem to be getting warmer in here
though." He unbuttoned his shirt and fanned himself a bit. "Perhaps we should
call the front desk."
"Good idea, I'll do it." She picked up the phone and dialed zero, it was
answered immediately. "This is Ms. Donnelly, in suite 101; we seem to have a
problem with our air conditioning." She listened to the man's response then
returned the phone to its cradle before relaying there message to Max.
"Apparently there'll be someone up in a few minutes. I hope so, and I'm
melting here." She picked up a magazine and began fanning herself.
"Enough of that." He took the magazine from her hand. "I'm far too tired for
the casino just now but a quiet drink by the pool while they solve this
problem would work. Let's change into something more casual and do that. I
don't feel like staying here while some man dilly dallies about with the
appliances." He'd be sure to ask for a partial refund on the room for this.
Erin laughed. "The last time someone dilly dallied with my appliances he
couldn't walk for a week." She went into her room, changed into a long white
cotton skirt and blouse and was back in the lounge within ten minutes waiting
for him.
Max joined her and they left the suite both melting from the oppressive heat.
Even the hallway was cooler. Just as they were about to get onto the lift the
repair man was stepping off.
"Bonjor. You are from suite 101, no?"
"Yes. What gave it away, the fact that we're sweating like farm animals? How
long will it be before you have it repaired?"
"Oh, say an hour or two perhaps, depending on what is wrong."
"Very well," Max sighed as he took Erin's arm. He waited for the door to close
before he let out another exasperated breath. "Bloody frogs, can't get away
from them."
The poolside was cooler; they found loungers, ordered drinks and took in the
scenery. Erin marveled at the impossibly thin women in even more impossibly
tiny bikinis. She saw Max's eyes wandering and was about to say something but
a very tall, tanned, handsome young man passing by stopped her. He surely had
to work out 16 hours a day to get a physique like that. The man turned his
head and gave her a smile and she couldn't help but smile back and when he
winked she decided that maybe this trip was just what she needed.
Of course Max was fixated on one tall brunette who must have paid a small
fortune for the pair of headrests in her bikini top. She was absolutely
magnificent until she opened her mouth. "I had a salad yesterday with low cal
Raaaanch dressing..."
"Oh, bloody hell," he groaned as he turned toward Erin. What the hell was she
looking at? Arnold Schwartzenegger? "My God, love. Tell me you're repulsed by
all of that beef. It will clog your arteries and cause a slow death."
"You're just jealous and you can talk. That woman has silicone implants no
woman of her age has assets that big, that high. Did you know that implants
feel like uncooked chicken fillets Max? Do uncooked chicken fillets appeal to
you? I'm sure we can order you some from the kitchen for you to play with."
Another Adonis walked by. "Now he," she inclined her head towards him, "he's
all real."
"Bollocks and speaking of bollocks I believe he is trying to smuggle something
out of the casino. A roll of hundred dollar chips perhaps. It's about as real
as Miss Chicken Filet's mutant cutlets." He rolled his eyes but they righted
themselves at once when a couple of off duty showgirls decided to eliminate
their tan lines by removing their bikini tops. They were in the chairs just
next to Erin and Max had to lean over her a bit but he didn't mind at all.
A quick dig in his ribs brought him back up straight. "You're slavering Max
and I'd rather you weren't doing it all over me." She put her hand under his
chin and closed his open mouth. "Slavering goldfish isn't a good look on you
and by the way, those girls are young enough to be your daughters."
"What girls?" he responded sharply. "I was checking for the time. The
repairman said an hour didn't he?" Max waited for her to answer but she was
too busy gawking at the damn lifeguard. Well he'd had about enough. If she
wanted the lifeguard she could have him lock stock and barrel. Without giving
it any thought, Max set the back of his chair up, placed his foot at the leg
of hers and shoved hard, in fact he shoved so hard that Erin's chair rolled
completely ass over tit into the pool. Max brushed his hands together at first
and added a laugh but when she didn't surface he stood mortified at his
actions. The sharp blast from the lifeguards whistle and a brusque shove from
the muscular man made him realize exactly how childish his act of jealousy
was.
The well built Australian lifeguard dived in and brought her to the surface
coughing and spluttering. He had her unceremoniously over his shoulder as he
walked up the metal ladder at the side of the pool. She was dripping and her
clothes where now transparent but she hardly cared about that, what she cared
about was getting her hands around Max's throat and squeezing until his eyes
popped out. How dare he, the childish immature prick?
One of the topless babes screamed as Max ripped a towel from her. He uttered a
half hearted sorry as he scurried to wrap it around Erin. He'd have had better
luck caressing a hornet's nest.
Raising her hands she pushed him away. "Why the hell did you ask me to come
here with you if you just wanted to kill me, you could have done that in
London you eejit!"
"It was an accident, love, and if you'd prefer to call me names ...perhaps we
should find someplace more private to discuss this."
"Fine." She began to flounce off but remembered her manners, walked back to
the lifeguard, stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek, said thank you then
continued past Max. Accident my foot, it was deliberate, done to humiliate her
well, he was going to be the one who was humiliated when she was finished with
him.
Max followed her and when he was lined up with the lifeguard he took the man's
raised finger as a warning. "Bloody hell. I wasn't about to kiss you as well,"
he huffed. He stepped out of his shoes twice as he followed Erin on her march
back to their suite. "Slow down, love. Can't we talk about this?"
"Yes, I can talk and you can listen. You were the one who wanted to keep this
private but if you want me to say what I have to say right here in the lobby,
I don't have a problem with that." She was beginning to shiver, partially from
being soaking and partially from being furious.
"Carry on. There are only four hundred and twenty two people in this lobby.
I'm sure most of them watch that American television show, what's it called?"
A rather large man with red cheeks wearing a cowboy hat answered his question,
unsolicited. "Jerry Springer."
"Exactamundo, give the man a five dollar chip. You see love; I would suggest
we continue this in our suite unless you prefer a cheering section."
She'd reached the lift and was pressing the button over and over again. "Damn
it, does nothing in this hotel work properly?" She asked no one in particular.
The doors opened and she stepped inside eyeing the elderly couple who were
staring at her. She smiled sweetly at them both. "It was hot," she offered by
way of explanation.
No further words were exchanged between them yet. Max tried to take her elbow
when they got off the lift but she jerked it away from him. It had to be some
strange twist of fate that had the air conditioning repair man walk past
whistling La Marseillaise as he did so. "Bloody frogs!" Max murrmered as he
jammed his hands down in his pockets. He followed Erin, a little too far
behind as it may be because when she swiped her card to enter the room the
door slammed before he got in.
"Bollocks!" he swore as he dug through every one of his pockets until he found
his key card. Finally retrieving it, he swiped it no less than four times
before the little green light clicked on allowing him to enter. The room was
as cold a witch's tit and speaking of tits, oh la la! Erin's were the very
first thing he noticed.
"I've completely forgotten what I was going to say. My goodness, are they
real?" Dare he? Yes he did reach to touch. Extending his right hand, he placed
it over her right breast and his eyes opened wide. "My God they are real and
they are magnificent."
She immediately shot out her hand to slap his face but he was too fast for her
and caught her wrist.
"Get your hands off me you sexist pig," she said through gritted teeth. "You
are just as obnoxious now as you were years ago. You think your funny? I have
news for you Mister, you're not." Erin freed her hand from his grasp and
reaching out caught him by the balls. "Well, well, well, they're not made of
steel."
"No!" he strained and groaned under her clasping hand. "I can assure you that
they are all mine. Please, Erin. Let go of my ...BOLLOCKS!"
She squeezed a little more before she let him go. "So, what was all that
about? Men can look but women are supposed to close their eyes and pretend
they're not interested? Wake up Max, it's the 21st century, women look, well,
maybe not at you." She was standing facing him now, hands on her hips, chin
thrust out.
"Erin," he gasped for breath but it was for more than just the gracious
recovery of his two precious units. Her blouse was a butterfly's wing with the
powder brushed off and the way she stood so proud and arrogant took one ache
out of his tender nuggets and put another one there to replace it. "Erin, you
magnificent nymph, I'm in love with you. I want you. I've wanted you
since...the lavender dress. You're the most ...most..." and before he said
another word he was kissing her.
She started to push him away, she was still furious with him, but as his kiss
deepened her anger turned into something else and she found herself kissing
him back. She was still soaking wet from the pool and she was shivering but
not from the cold, she was shivering at the intensity of the sudden passion
between them. They had spent years scoring points off one another, each trying
to win the war of words that rumbled on between them, now the war had reached
its final battle. Her hands reached for his shirt, tearing it open as if it
were wrapping on the last piece of chocolate in the world. Her hands ran up
and down his chest before easing into the waistband of his shorts. She could
feel his heat and she wanted it.
His boyhood dreams of Erin had not been like this. Things were gentler in his
imagination but they'd aged, grown and experienced love and lust. He wasn't
about to back off, in fact he was about to jump in with both feet. Shucking
his shirt off, he walked her backwards through the master bedroom door. His
mouth was melded to hers as he explored the woman and found the girl he'd
admired. Toss that, he wanted to fuck her senseless for all the times she'd
teased him until he was ready to explode. Slamming her down on the bed, he
fell on top of her.
"Bloody hell." He could wrangle figures with such finesse but a simple, wet
blouse provided more of an obstacle than the entire Nikkei market. At least
the skirt was easy to unzip.
"Wait," she breathed, quickly undoing the first of the buttons on her blouse
before becoming impatient and giving it the same treatment as she had his
shirt. Her hands were more agile and she had his shorts unzipped and pushed
down his thighs in seconds. Looking down she caught her breath, Max hadn't
been lying all these years, his assets were indeed gilt edged.
Fluttering his legs, he shed his shorts and with a sudden burst of dexterity
and a little fumbling he managed to get her panties off. They were still
wrapped around his thumb when he jostled between her legs. They even caught up
on his rock hard cock when he grasped it to feed it into her. Tugging and
pulling, he managed to slingshot them away without a care. He was well
distracted by the feel of her moist muscular inner body as he sank in. "Ah...Bol....Beautiful,"
he hummed as he felt her accept him to her very end.
When she wrapped her legs around his waist he favored the change of angle and
thrust in again and again. The feel of her seizing walls brought a joyous
euphoria. Erin was not in the least bit shy. She took charge crossing her
hands behind his neck in a demanding gesture, pulling him down to those
magnificent breasts. He could feel the muscles in his belly tighten as he
laved his broad tongued over the puckered flesh of her needy nipple. His back
arched and he groaned at the feel of it rising further in his mouth. What
power he had to make her want him, more to the point what power she had
because it was him who was about to lose his senses
It was Max Skinner who had the ring clamped into his nose that day. He was an
arrogant and powerful man who made and controlled fortunes but all it took to
steal his might was a little patch of glory between an Irish woman's legs. Las
Vegas literally means the Fertile Valleys. Viva Las Vegas.