Chapter One
What happens in Vegas stays
in Vegas.
When Andrea and I decided
to go to Las Vegas we kind of said that to ourselves jokingly, as if we were
going to maybe get up to some wild and crazy stuff there we wouldn't tell
anyone else about. Though to be honest, neither of us was really the wild and
crazy type.
I mean, I'm taking Law,
well, pre-law at Penn State, and she's taking Public Administration. Does that
sound like we're a couple of wild and crazy girls? Granted, we were freshmen,
but we hadn't picked those subjects because we liked living on the edge.
Andrea is your classic
blonde (meaning dyed), with very big breasts. She was really sweet, if not
terribly clever or inventive. We had met because we lived in the same dorm
building. And we were both feeling like, well, our first year away from home
hadn't exactly been filled with adventure.
So we decided to go to
Vegas for spring break. There were all kinds of deals out there, and she found
one and persuaded me. And then the very day we were to leave her aunt Mary
died. Since the funeral would be in two days her week in Vegas was pretty much
shot. And there were no refunds!
We tried to find someone at
the last minute but everyone had made their plans, so I decided there was
nothing for it but to go to Vegas alone.
I was very unhappy about
that. It wasn't like I was a party girl who could meet people to have fun with
easily. I was boring. Yes, I'm pretty. Yes, I have a nice body. Including my
boobs, by the way. They're not as big as Andrea but boys have told me I have
perfect breasts.
Not that I show them to
anyone, for the most part. I'm not the kind of girl who's comfortable in low
cut tops, and I don't sleep around.
So when I got off the plane
in Vegas I was wearing, sandals, cutoffs, a bra, a pink tank top and an orange
t-shirt, with my brown hair pulled back in a pony tail. I was not, in other
words, dressed to impress. And it was hot out, even thought it was March, and I
wasn't used to it, since it was snowing back in Pennsylvania.
Most of the tourists were
dressed much like me. Certainly the taxi drivers weren't under any illusions as
they rushed forward to get customers, and one told me he'd take me to the strip
quicker than anyone else.
Which was probably so much
bullshit, but whatever. I got in, probably overpaid, and wound up at my hotel
fifteen minutes later. I was excited to be in a whole new city, especially Las
Vegas.
The hotel room wasn't
exactly super expensive but I was very excited at it! I took a bunch of
pictures, and sent a couple of them to Andrea and others as I unpacked. With
that done it was time to go out and explore!
I had done research, of
course, because I always do research. I knew the places I wanted to go and the
things I wanted to see, and roughly where they were. It was all loaded on my iPhone.
I had a shoulder bag with a bottle of cold water and suntan lotion, and a
floppy hat and sunglasses. I wandered the strip much of the day, exploring,
gawking, shopping, gambling, and eating junk food.
I bought a 'what happens in
Vegas stays in Vegas' t-shirt from a vendor, and several souvenirs for people
from the shops and stalls along the strip.
I did not meet anyone,
though someone groped my ass in a crowd.
I returned to my hotel for
dinner, then faced the question of what to do next. The plan called for
visiting some of the more famous bars and clubs, but that plan hadn't been to
go alone. Going out drinking alone wasn't exactly safe for a girl!
I worried over this for
some time, because I do that, worry over things. Would I get hit on by all
kinds of creeps? Would someone put something in my drink when I wasn't looking?
Would I sit alone at a table looking like a pathetic wallflower? I mean, if
nobody hits on you and you're alone, what do you do exactly? Pick out a guy and
approach him? I could do that at school but not in a strange club in a strange
city!
So that was why, at eight
O'clock, I was sitting in my hotel room watching PBS on TV.
Yeah, I'm overly careful
and thus very boring. Sorry.
I did feel bad about it,
though. I cursed myself for being boring. And then finally decided to go out
and see the strip at night. It would be cooler and I wouldn't need lotion. So I
did that. I gawked at the bright lights, including Freemont Street, of course,
which was cool. There was a lot going on. But being all alone, I kind of felt
left out.
I returned to my hotel
before eleven. Alone. I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the
forty third floor where my room was, and the elevator took me up to forty two.
Then it sat there, ignoring me pushing the buttons. I was about to press the
emergency button when it started up again, only it stopped now on fifty three.
"Oh for gosh sakes," I
muttered.
It went down to fifty, then
back up to a floor that was only marked P. And there it opened.
I jumped out, naturally.
Wouldn't you? Stupid elevator! I found myself in a very small, marble hall, and
pressed the button for the elevator. The same elevator I'd just gotten out of
opened its door.
Great.
I waited for it to close,
waited a minute, then pressed the button again. The same damn elevator door
opened. So I decided to hold it open and pressed the elevator button again. The
elevator door kept trying to close, and then started making a rude buzzing
sound because I was holding it.
"Fuck you!" I said to it.
I was getting irritated.
This was NOT how I'd imagined spending my first night in Vegas!
I shoved it and it opened
back, then tried to close again. I put my foot up and kicked it and shoved it
back with my foot. It made more rude noises but opened.
"Fucking piece of crap!" I
said to it.
"May I be of some
assistance?"
I whirled around and a man
stood in an open doorway. He was actually sort of leaning against the door
jamb, holding a glass of something dark.
He was wearing sweat pants.
And nothing else I could see. His feet were bare, and his gray sweatpants hung
low on his hips. He was maybe thirty, maybe the right side of thirty? Somewhere
around that area, about a decade older than me. He had long hair, like, to the
shoulders, and an accent, maybe Eastern European? Maybe German?
And he was... well... hot.
I mean, he had a heck of a body! And there was a lot of it on display with just
the sweatpants. This guy worked out!
I immediately got all
flustered, and I knew I was blushing, and that made me feel more flustered, and
then the fucking elevator door closed, while I was distracted.
"Uhm... the elevator
malfunctioned and went up and down and up and down and finally took me here
instead of to my floor," I said apologetically.
He pushed himself away from
the door and strolled forward about ten feet until he was standing right in
front of me. I licked my lips nervously and backed up a bit as he reached out
and touched the elevator door.
"Good elevator," he said in
a soothing voice, like you would talk to a horse or something. "Nice elevator."
He stroked the elevator
door and then grinned at me.
I rolled my eyes but
grinned back.
"My name is Karl," he said.
"And what, may I ask, is your name, beautiful girl?"
"Uhm, uh... Megan," I
gulped, my eyes flicking nervously up and back and away from all that looming
male flesh.
"Well, Megan, I see only
two possible resolutions to your issue," he said.
He took a sip from the
glass as he eyed me, then licked his lips and smiled.
"You can walk down the
stairs, there, about sixty five floors, to the lobby and complain, or you can
come into my room and call them up to fix the fucking elevator."
I hesitated, glancing past
him at the door, well, double door.
"I'm a quite respectable
fellow," he said with a grin. "And I have no weapons on me at all. You can
search me if you wish."
He held his arms out to the
sides, and I gulped again, eyes flicking over his bare chest.
"That's uhm, okay," I said.
"A trusting girl! How
wonderful! Come? Have you seen the penthouse here? It's quite lovely. And the
view is spectacular."
"I uhm, well..."
Well, what could I do? Act
like a frightened child and stay out here in the lobby? Walk all the way down?
I suppose I could have asked him to call while I stayed out here safe, like
some fraidy cat. But honestly, he could do whatever he wanted to out here just
as easily as in there. I mean, we were already alone.
"Sure," I said.
He beamed at me and headed
back to the door, sliding his arm across my shoulder as he did.
"And how long have you been
in town, lovely Megan?" he asked.
I shrugged off his arm as
he led me into the penthouse, looking around curiously.
I had a nice room, well,
for what I'd paid. This was not a nice room. This was... like... wow!
I tried not to gawk, and
failed. It was huge! The room was two stories tall, and had tall windows along
the far wall, past a conversation area of sofas. A staircase ran up the right
wall. The floor was some kind of hardwood, but a rug sat under the sofas. There
was a three person sofa facing a big flat screen on the far wall, with two love
seats at right angles, and then two of what looked like low, padded ottomans
forming the fourth side around several coffee tables.
Off to the left was a full
sized pool table.
"This is, uh, some room!" I
said.
"It's a remarkable suite,
but nothing less than I deserve," he said insouciantly.
I looked at him doubtfully.
"I am, after all, a
remarkable man," he said.
"Okay," I said.
His smile broadened. "May I
get you a drink, lovely Megan?"
I almost reflexively said
no as I saw the phone. I would pick it up, call room service and complain. That
was me. That was Megan. But I hesitated for some reason. He was big and half
naked but he really didn't seem very threatening. He seemed, well, kind of lazy
for that. Like if I ran away he wouldn't bother to chase me even if he wanted
to.
Going back to my boring
room alone was... the right thing to do.
"What kind of drink?" I
asked warily.
"What would you like,
lovely Megan?"
"Just Megan," I said with a
snort.
"But you deserve the
title!" he exclaimed as he walked over under the stairs to where there was a
bar.
"Yeah, right."
"Is beauty not in the eye of
the beholder?" he asked, with arched eyebrows.
I looked at him doubtfully.
This was not the sort of guy I usually talked to. He was cocky, and I'd met
those before, self-confident, sure, but there was more arrogance than usual.
"I suppose," I said.
"Then in my eyes, you are
indeed beautiful."
I flushed a bit. I never
know how to react to comments like that because, well, I'm a very literal
minded person. If I'm beautiful, it's not due to anything I did. If I have nice
hair it's because of nature. If I'm moderately tall, then that's on nature.
People say I have nice legs. What did I do deserve a compliment for that?
Added in was my strong
suspicion that guys who said things like that were just trying to get on my
good side so they'd have a better chance at sex.
"Thanks," I said.
"What would you like?"
He swept his arm at the
bottles on the wall behind the bar.
"A screwdriver?"
"Assuredly!" he said, going
behind the bar.
I watched very closely as
he prepared it, believe me!
"And what about me?" he
asked.
"What about you?" I asked.
"Am I not beautiful?"
He beamed at me and flexed.
I rolled my eyes.
"You sure aren't shy," I
said.
"What do I have to be shy
about?"
"Well..."
To be honest I couldn't
think of anything.
"I'm rich, successful, and
amazingly good looking!" he exclaimed.
"Amazingly modest, too," I
said, accepting the drink from him.
"False modesty is not in
me," he said with a shrug.
I took a careful sip. "How
about real modesty?"
"Only when necessary. When
trying to impress, however, I do not act modest."
"You're trying to impress
me?"
"Of course! You're a
beautiful woman! And I was bored, to be honest. And here you are like a gift
from the gods! I want to sleep with you, so I impress you."
I gaped at him and then
flushed.
"What? Am I being too honest?
Surely you realize any man who sees you wants to sleep with you." he said,
pouring himself a fresh drink.
"They do not," I said,
frowning.
"Well, the gay ones don't.
The rest certainly do. Unless they're blind and stupid. You're a very beddable
looking woman."
"You're a ... sexist," I
said.
"No, I'm heterosexual," he
replied.
I snorted. The thing was,
he wasn't saying anything I didn't know. But most guys at least pretended they
were interested in me as a person, not just as a sex toy.
"You don't know a single
thing about me," I said.
"I know you look very
attractive. What more is needed for sex?"
Well, he was European, and
a guy.
I rolled my eyes.
"Oh yes, yes, yes. For
women, you have this terrible cultural imperative which demands you get to know
the man, and that he ply you with meals and dinner and theater tickets and
flatter you and do his best to impress upon you what a fine and sensitive
fellow he is and how much he cares about you.
"Until that happens,
barring much alcohol, you feel it would be wrong to engage in pleasurable
activities. Thus is the gaping difference between men and women," he sighed.
I was taken aback by that,
even though, well, realistically he wasn't wrong. I mean, everyone knew guys
would have sex with any attractive girl at the drop of a hat. I never knew a
girl, even the slutty ones, who were as bad.
"And if women were willing
to sleep with every man who found them attractive she'd be sleeping with men
all day every day."
He smiled broadly. "You
state something which men would consider a fantasy."
I rolled my eyes again,
though I have to admit I was kind of liking him. He was a likable guy, despite
maybe too much honesty. And I felt kind of safe on the other side of the bar.
I took another drink from
the glass.
"Of course, you'd only
sleep with the attractive ones," he said.
Then he flexed his muscles
at me again.
"Stop," I said. "I get that
you have a nice body."
"Thank you. Does it incite
lust within you?" he asked hopefully.
I laughed.
He came around the bar, and
I grinned, though I felt a little more, uhm, intimidated as he stepped right up
beside me. I was seated at a bar stool, and twisted around to face him.
"I'm afraid not," I said.
"Then I shall have to work
harder. Would you like me to do pushups?"
"Uhm, no. Where are you from,
Karl?"
"Berlin. I had business in
Los Angeles, and stopped here on the way home to meet an old acquaintance. And
you?"
"I came here with a
girlfriend," I said. "Only she couldn't come."
I explained what happened
and he nodded.
There was a banging at the
door and he winked and left me there, going around the corner. I looked around
at the place, thinking, wow, so this is how the rich and famous live. I slipped
off the stool and wandered in under the balcony overhead, peeking into a big
kitchen, then into a bathroom, then came back out and almost ran into Karl -
and a tall blonde.
A very hot looking blonde.
She was slim and Nordic looking, wearing a very short white dress, the kind
some girls might wear out clubbing. She was no girl, though. She was about
Karl's age.
"This is Lily," he said,
introducing her. "Lily, this is the lovely Megan."
"Uhm, hi," I said, flushing
a bit.
Was she his girlfriend? Was
she going to think I was, like, going after her guy? Was this going to get
nasty? I felt a bit guilty, even though I hadn't done anything with him!
Admittedly I had been seriously thinking about it, though...
"She is lovely," she said,
in the same accent as Karl.
"Lily works here now as
a... what is it you do anyway, Lily?" he asked.
She snorted at him. "I'm a
marketing director, and you know it."
She turned back to me. "His
act of being the lazy playboy is not entirely true, you know. He's as sharp as
they come."
"But soft on the edges," he
said, slipping his arm around her waist.
"I just came in to use the
phone," I said.
"Ah, but now we have enough
for a party," Karl said, slipping his other arm around me.
I was startled. I mean,
wasn't he worried Lily would get angry or jealous? But Lily was just smiling
tolerantly. Then I realized what he was suggesting, which was like, unless I
was wrong, a threesome. I flushed again and wriggled out of his arm.
But at the same time I
suddenly felt this tightness in my chest, this... breathiness. I mean, the very
idea of having sex with... both of them, just the idea of it, made something
thrum way down low.
The truth was that up until
Lily showed up I had only just entertained the notion of doing anything with
him. I mean, I didn't know him and ... well, he could be dangerous or crazy or
something. It was unlikely, but still, a girl can't be too careful!
But Lily seemed sane and
ordinary and not at all threatening. And so her presence kind of made me
actually think, well, seriously about the idea of sleeping with him - and her!
I had kind of fooled around
with a girl once. It had been really incredibly hot, but it hadn't gone as far
as I would have liked it to. She was drunk, and then she had to leave our
little make-out session to throw up, and after that she wasn't really in the
mood.
But I'd entertained...
fantasies... of what it would be like to sleep with a girl. It was on my list
of things I wanted to do while away from home at college. And suddenly I was
feeling a bit flustered at the offer apparently being made to me, even though
of course, there was no way I could really bring myself to accept it!
A kind of electrical
current seemed to be traveling through my body as I pretended to snort at his
beaming offer. Then he turned to his left and kissed Lily hard, his left hand
rising to cup her breast.
I tried to turn away but he
pulled me in closer, and then turned and kissed me. Startled, I didn't react at
first, then jerked my head away, mostly out of instinct, and fear how Lily
would react.
"Hey!" I protested.
Lily wasn't angry, though.
She laughed in amusement.
"You should be flattered.
He has very high standards of beauty," she said with a smile.
"I don't offer my
magnificent body to just any woman," Karl said with a sniff. "I deserve the
best."
"God, you're arrogant!" I
said in amazement.
"It's mostly an act, but..
not all of it," Lily said, smiling at me. "Though he does think a lot of
himself, it's true. But he exaggerates to shock people."
He turned and kissed her
again, his hand still on her left breast, then turned as he pulled me in closer
so the three of us were basically all pressed together in a triangle, and tried
to kiss me. His hand and slipped upward, too so it was cupping my breast.
That wild electricity... sexual
electricity, was growing more intense as Lily giggled and then reached her left
arm out to draw me in as I tried to pull back. Then she kissed me! That
was startling!
So startling I didn't
react, at first, as her mouth closed so firmly on mine.
Her hand slid up behind my
head and she kissed me for long seconds before I forced myself to pull back.
She was a very good kisser!
And... I don't know, was it my imagination or was her mouth... softer than that
of guys? I hadn't spent a lot of time kissing girls but..
"You guys!" I protested.
"Life is for having fun,
Megan," Lily said with a grin. "Especially when you're young and free."
"Yes, fun, excitement,
thrills, pleasure!" Karl said.
Which... wasn't untrue. I
mean, well, the whole reason I'd agreed to go to Las Vegas was that I hadn't
had much of that fun stuff since leaving home. And now I was in Las Vegas all
alone and... and I could go back to my room and watch TV and go to sleep or...
or something... else. I could have an experience, a wild, possibly really hot
experience!
But my mind was kind of
fumbling through the thoughts and dangers and worries and anxieties and
embarrassment and uncertainty and inhibitions and keeping me from making any
kind of actual decision about what to do! I should go! I should go right now! I
knew that! That was the responsible thing to do!
I squeaked as Karl's big
hand cupped my buttocks and drew me in tighter again, then his left hand rose
to cup my left breast! At almost the same time, Lily drew my head in and kissed
me again as her right hand rose to cup my right breast!
Holy shit! My eyes were
wide and my heart was pounding and my pulse was racing and my mind was still
fumbling around trying to figure out what to do! I knew I should leave but...
but I didn't want to leave! I wanted to... to do something... wild!
And two separate people
were squeezing my breasts! One of them a girl! Wow!