What Happens in Vegas

I entered the main area, hoping for coffee or breakfast or a smiling face. But the guys were gone.

Damn.

There was a note though, on the counter. Big bold letters on a sheet of paper from the Bellagio’s complimentary notepad:

Morning Sexy!

You were an absolute goddess

last night. A total fucking rock star!

The good news is you have some

very fun memories to take back

to New York with you.

As for the bad news… well…

hate to break it to you, but you’re

probably ruined for vanilla

sex the rest of your life.

Thanks again though,

for an amazing time!

B & C

That last part almost made me laugh out loud. The only thing was it was so frighteningly true, it really wasn’t that funny.

Shower then coffee? Or coffee then shower?

It was a pretty big decision, especially for someone in my weakened condition. Ultimately I settled on ordering up the biggest possible breakfast and a giant carafe of the hotel’s finest coffee.

That settled, I ran the suite’s giant shower as hot as the spigot allowed me, until the mirrors frosted over and the whole room filled with steam. Then I stepped under the superheated spray…

… and smiled as I went to work imprinting the details of last night on my memory, until they were tattooed upon my brain.

Fourteen

LAUREN

I walked the sidewalk with a new spring in my step, despite the fact I should be tired. Despite the fact that I was sore too… but it was a pleasant soreness, and one that reminded me of the glories of last night.

Last night…

It had taken me half the morning to convince myself last night actually happened. That I’d really gone through with bringing two guys back to my hotel room… only to sleep with both of them.

And yes, both of them at the same time.

That part had been intimidating and frightening and totally fucking wondrous. Pleasuring two men at once. Keeping them both happy and satiated, with whatever tricks I had up my sleeve.

Yes, I was a little older. Eight or nine years their senior, from what we’d figured out. But not only had I kept up with them, I was pretty sure I’d outlasted. Everything they gave me, I did my best to give back — sometimes even harder or just as good as I was getting it.

I patted the note in my pocket. It was like a trophy to me. Here I was taking a victory lap, outside in the warm desert sun. Three or four times already I’d pulled it from my pocket, unfolded it, then read it with a smile. ‘Goddess’, it said. ‘Rock star.’