Why hello Las Vegas! Mr. Man and I got into Vegas about 9:15pm last Friday. Vegas time is 2 hours behind Central time so uh, yeah, we were already tired from a long day of traveling (we didn't have a nonstop flight) and the time change. But fuck, IT'S VEGAS right??? I wasn't planning on sleeping until I passed out anyway. The hotel was amazing, as many of them are in that town. We check out the gorgeous room, throw our stuff down and go meet up with
our friends.
Its so nice to see them again. I really can't believe how lucky we are to have randomly found another couple that we like hanging out with so much, regardless of the sex. This second time feels much different. We already know each other quite well and have kept in touch since they came to visit us so we have a lot to talk about and are just freakin' happy to see each other. There aren't as many jitters on my part or those "I wonder if he'll like me" feelings. We head out to a mexican restaurant close by and catch up over a very late dinner and a drink. We meander around and take our time walking back to the hotel and up to their room to check out the view. Yeah right.
As M mentioned, we are all extremely tired. And lets face it, I'm old and am not used to staying up as late as I used to back in the day. I make myself comfy on their bed and C-Man begins to give me a lovely and relaxing foot rub. Score! An exhausted Mr. Man decides to head up to our room and get a head start on sleep (and according to M's post about Day 2, this was a smart move because he needed to save up his energy for her!) but I'm half asleep and perfectly content right where I am. M passes out next to me and C-Man and I begin to enjoy each other. I am not sleeping without some cock first.
C-Man handles my body so powerfully and I love his confidence in and out of bed. He took control just as I wanted and made me feel so fucking good. His tongue on my clit, his hands on my breasts and ass, his thick yummy cock in my slick wet pussy...and then there was the chair...Somehow we end up getting off the bed and across the room closer to the huge windows. C-Man sits in a chair and I'm on my knees with his cock in my mouth. But wait, there's more...then I'm fucking him. He's sitting, I turn around so my back is to his front and I sit on his cock. His strong hands on my hips guiding me up and down on his hardness. My hands on his knees, my breasts bouncing, head thrown back moaning with sheer pleasure. This is why I came to Vegas. To fuck in front of a huge picture window looking out onto The Strip.
Both exhausted, we say goodnight and I get somewhat dressed and head to my room, cum dripping out of my used up pussy. C-Man, is this the time you walk me to my room to make sure I can get in the door? I had major issues with doors on this trip people. They were not my friends and I couldn't figure out how to open any of them. But it would seem that my night is not yet over. Mr. Man is asleep. Or so I thought. I put on my nightie and climb into bed. Next thing I remember is Mr. Man fucking me. Hard and lustful. I have just been fucked by two men within an hour. Gawd I love Vegas.
Replaying all of this has me aching to cum but Mr. Man is out. My new bullet vibe is about to get a workout.
Goodnight and sleep well.
xoxo,
Bella
I mentioned in a prior post that in a moment of insanity I had signed up for a six week burlesque class. Sometimes I have a tendency to start things and not finish them so I wasn't sure how much to post about the class until I was sure I was going to actually go through with it. Well, I've been to three classes so far and there are only six total so I think I'm safely ensconced into the world of beginner hip rolls and shimmies. 
However, let me just say that I kind of suck at this burlesque thing. As in, no coordination, no memory of steps after class so I can at least practice, no concept of timing, etc. Horrible I tell you. After the first class I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. I just didn't seem to "get" it. A little slow on the hip roll uptake so to speak. Even setting foot into a dance studio was a huge leap outside of my comfort zone. I played basketball in high school, which takes coordination for sure but I would have probably been better suited for dance if I'd been a cheerleader or one of those flag/baton chicks in band. But I was super proud of myself for showing up at all and vowed that I wouldn't quit, told myself that the first class would be the hardest, blah blah blah. All the shit you say when you're trying to convince yourself that you're not crazy for doing whatever it is. 
