Wifey: Part 2

“Can I stereotype you some more?” Derek asked.

Jasmine smiled and said yes.

Then Derek whispered in her ear and told her that she looked like she kept her pussy bald and that she probably only wore thongs.

“You funny.” Jasmine sipped some more of her drink. The smell of Derek’s cologne was making Jasmine so hot, she wanted to grab him by the dick and pull him into the bathroom and fuck his brains out in one of the stalls.

“But am I right?”

“Maybe,” Jasmine replied.

Derek took another sip of his drink, and then he placed fifty dollars on the bar and ordered another round for him and Jasmine. He positioned himself so he was right up on her and no one else could see as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and felt around for the crotch of her panties, which he moved to the side, and slowly slipped his middle finger inside her soaking wet pussy.

Jasmine sighed in ecstasy, trying to be discreet, and then she slapped his hand. She zipped her pants and buttoned them back.

“So I was right about one thing,” Derek smiled and said.

Jasmine just looked at him and remained quiet.

After their fourth round of drinks, Jasmine and Derek made their way out of the bar and out of the airport. Derek called a number that was provided to all of the players who played for the Green Bay Packers that they could use to call a chauffeured car service to pick them up from anywhere in the country if they were ever out late drinking. Derek wasn’t going to put his NFL contract at risk by drinking and driving or getting arrested for public intoxication or something like that, so he always made sure to take advantage of that number whenever he went out partying.

Fifteen minutes later, Derek and Jasmine found themselves inside of an all-black chauffeur-driven Yukon Denali with tinted windows and headed to the Wynn. They both were feeling nice, and although Jasmine wanted some dick, she had let Derek freak her in the bar and now come back to her hotel room to fuck her simply because she was looking at the potential bigger picture, which contained possible NFL riches.

Jasmine loved Las Vegas. She had just stepped off the plane, and without even spending a dime on slot machines, she felt like she had hit the jackpot.

Seventeen

By the time Derek and Jasmine finished fucking, it was a little past four in the morning. Before Jasmine fell asleep, she was still feeling the effects of the liquor she drank, and as she lay in the bed next to Derek, she felt like calling up Agent Gosling and telling him that she was done with her role as a confidential informant.

It was hard for Jasmine to stay focused when she was lying next to Derek’s rock-hard body. Jasmine loved his tats, which pretty much covered his entire upper body and both of his arms. She cuddled next to him and continually ran her hand up and down his eight-pack abs until she put herself to sleep.

When morning came, Jasmine woke up as Derek moved about the hotel room.

“Hey,” Jasmine said in a groggy tone from underneath a white bed sheet.

“What’s up, girl?”

“You were just going to fuck me and slide out real quiet, I see. You see how y’all pro athletes do?” Jasmine joked as she sat up in the bed.

“Nah, actually I had already stepped out real quick and met my man downstairs in the lobby.”

Jasmine stretched and let out an exaggerated groan, trying to fully wake herself.

“You left and came back? I must have been knocked out. I ain’t hear nothing.” Jasmine thought to herself how good dick put her ass to sleep every time.

“Yeah, I had to get my weed,” Derek replied to Jasmine’s instant delight.

Derek sat down at the table that was diagonally across from the bed and pulled out an ounce of weed and put it on the table. “You smoke?” he asked, emptying the contents of a cigar into the trashcan.

“Do I? Did I tell you that I am loving you right now?”

Derek smiled and continued to roll the weed up. “I figured we would smoke and then go get something to eat for breakfast before I head out.”

“Okay, that’s cool,” Jasmine replied. “What is that? Haze?”

“Nah, this ain’t haze,” Derek smiled and said as he continued to roll the blunt like a skilled marijuana surgeon. “You from New York, but I know New York ain’t up on this shit. This that exotic weed.”

“What is it?” Jasmine sat down across from Derek, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and she was as excited as a kid opening a present on Christmas morning.