Fate

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This story was co-authored by QueenoftheAmazons and myself, and this is truly a testimony to her talents, both literary and otherwise. It was great, erotic fun collaborating with you. My sincere thanks, and Hail to the Queen!

***********************

Buddha: “I do not believe in a fate that falls on men however they act, but I do believe in a fate that falls on them unless they act.”

***********************

That quote from Buddha, not necessarily known for his connections to Las Vegas, rang in John’s head as he surveyed the tall redhead’s shapely legs dangling leisurely from the stool on which she was perched in front of a slot machine on this late afternoon.

He was in between sessions at the conference he was attending, and had just made a quick score at the blackjack tables when he saw her. She was the closest thing to his dream woman he had seen in quite awhile.

She wore a white skirt that was not overtly short, but was slowly rising up her lean thighs each time she shifted or squirmed in her seat. John mused to himself as he patted the small wad of bills in his pants pocket. You would think with all the emphasis that Vegas places on keeping people in front of the slots for as long as possible, that some genius by now would have figured out that they should provide more comfortable stools.

Yet that invention would have to wait for the time being. John had a thing for tall redheads. That, in and of itself, was not necessarily headline news. What man wouldn’t have a thing for tall redheads, especially one that looked like this. John estimated that she was well over six feet tall, although it was tough to gauge accurately since she was still sitting.

What he did know was that he had to have her. He was a discerning man nowadays when it came to women, quality over quantity, but he went after what he wanted.

After all, our destiny chooses us. But only if we nudge destiny along in the right direction.

Elise sighed to herself as another turn of the slot’s wheel came up empty. She was restless and not having any luck. She traveled to Las Vegas from her home in Southern California somewhat frequently for her job in sales. Elise usually went as part of a group, but on this particular trip she was there for nearly a week by herself, which was boring and required her to make friends.

So far, the temporary friends she made this week were of the male, married and of the non-drinking, non-clubbing Mormon variety. They were fun and liked going out, but totally not what she had been hoping for. Elise was restless in more ways than one, and hoped to change that scenario in the last two days of her visit.

As she put another dollar in the slot and spun the wheel, she felt herself being watched. She glanced up and saw the handsome older man gazing at her with a mysterious twinkle in his eye. Unlike most admirers, and she had many during this solo business trip to Sin City, his was not a leering or creepy stare. Rather, it was the look of an art appraiser surveying a canvas that appealed to him.

And this appealed to Elise.

Elise was very discerning, too. But she wanted, no, she needed, to get fucked. Soon. What’s a Vegas trip without a hard cock? She looked up again, a smirk on her face as she thought of how that could be used as a slogan to attract more female tourists. He was still watching her, this mysterious man who was dressed casually in a pair of khaki shorts and blue golf shirt.

She held his eyes a few beats, raised one eyebrow, laughed to herself again about the hard cock being required for trips to Vegas, then refocused on the slot machine. More money left her fingers as she became determined not to leave before her luck changed.

She didn’t notice the man walk closer. She didn’t notice as he eased into the stool next to her, still watching her. In fact, she smelled the masculine sexiness of his cologne before she turned and saw who now sat beside her. She breathed in, enjoying his scent. It smelled nice, hell, he smelled nice, the pleasing scent causing a reaction within her olfactory glands, and simultaneously, her libido.

He kept his distance as to not invade her personal space. An appropriate separation, at least initially, was always the best approach as to not to prematurely scare off the woman, John knew from experience. He was not what he called a “full-court-press guy”, a term he used for those men that were oblivious to the clues and cues that women sent, indicating their interest or lack thereof.

John’s keen intuition told him that this was a woman who would appreciate his respect for her comfort. Yet he also sensed that directness, candor, would be the preferred method to quickly assess her interest.

He started with his time-tested pick-up line, beautiful in its simplicity, and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m John”.

Elise turned further towards him, and she noticed that those blue-green eyes that twinkled mischievously at her were a mirror of her own. She şişli rus escort felt her nipples harden almost imperceptibly, and a small wave of desire to her pussy caused her to involuntarily clench her legs together.

“Elise,” she said with a smile, her hand encircling his, holding onto it while they looked into each other’s eyes. She felt a familiar warmth that began to moisten her tiny lace panties. God, that was quick, she thought, instant chemistry. In Vegas.

Her luck might be changing after all.

“Elise,” John began, still holding onto her hand, “You strike me as a woman who appreciates a man who doesn’t engage in frivolous small talk while he’s most obviously trying to pick up a woman. Am I correct in that assumption?”

Elise smiled, already enjoying his touch, was delighted in his directness. She became aware that she had swiveled ever so slightly in her stool so that her bare leg was grazing his own. She stared at his deep blue eyes, made even brighter by his lightly tanned skin and blue shirt.

“Absolutely. I have a strict ‘no bullshit’ policy, and life is too short to deal with idiots or douche bags, of which there are a lot here. So go ahead and proceed accordingly, but you have been warned,” she laughed to soften her words. But she meant every one of them.

He nodded his comprehension while releasing her hand. Elise was surprised to find that she missed it, she liked feeling her hand in his. He leaned into her a bit more closely.

“Fair enough,” John replied. “But make no mistake as to my intentions. I am trying to pick you up.” He smirked a bit and subtly directed his gaze towards his crotch. “I, uh, find you kinda exciting already. Can you tell?”

Elise followed his gaze towards his lap and found an impressive bulge twitching beneath the fabric of his shorts. Elise wasn’t a “size queen” per se, especially if a guy knew how to use his cock to please her, but she couldn’t help but to sigh inwardly at the sight of the quite obviously large cock.

She had a theory that any girl who tried to rationalize that size didn’t matter was either lying or had never enjoyed a big dick. And one of the nice things about being tall was that no matter how big the cock was, Elise had always been able to take it all.

In each of her holes.

And she loved every inch of cock.

Finally, Elise looked back up into John’s eyes. “So this is what you’re like when you’re just ‘kinda’ excited? What kind of reaction would I evoke if you found me ‘really’ exciting?”

John smiled back at her, enjoying the reality that he had captured Elise’s undivided attention. “Well, that brings me back to my original idea, remember? Of picking you up? Let’s get to know each other a bit. Care to join me in the bar for a drink? I’m more entertaining than the slots, and I promise to abide by your ‘no BS’ edict.”

Elise laughed, amused, and rose from the stool. While doing so, her skirt lifted well above mid-thigh, and she parted her legs just long enough to give John a glance at her light pink thong. She did so knowingly, wanting to arouse this man. To see what kind of rise she could get out of him, figuratively and literally. Elise was more than ‘kinda’ excited herself at this point.

John stood up, and they immediately noticed the disparity in height. Even in her flat casual sandals, Elise was at least three inches taller than John, who was five-feet-ten.

John verbalized the obvious, looking up at Elise. “Does that bother you?” he asked.

Elise started towards the lounge, looking over her shoulder, gesturing for John to follow her. “Not in the least. Unless you can’t handle it, or unless you don’t think you can handle me. From what I’ve seen so far, I have no doubt about your abilities. C’mon.”

John purposely walked a few feet behind Elise, watching her tight ass swish back and forth beneath the skirt, and admiring the sinewy muscles in her calves and thighs. As an added bonus, she had big breasts for a tall woman, too. Firm and pointing straight up proudly under her black sleeveless top.

“I love Vegas,” he thought to himself, as he watched scores of other men turn their head in Elise’s direction as she strode confidently to the lounge.

They sat closely as they talked and within an hour, Elise was on her second dirty vodka martini and feeling the buzz both in her head and throughout her body. Her nipples were hard, her pussy was wet and she wanted him to touch her again. John, like herself, was in Vegas on business alone. He was attending an industry conference, but had chosen to separate himself from the masses.

Mixing business and pleasure was not his modus operandi, and that is why he had booked himself into this hotel, the Palazzo, even though the conference was held at a hotel on the opposite end of the strip. The upscale hotel attracted a different type of clientele, and he was glad he had selected it.

He laughed at her stories of her adventures şişli türbanlı escort throughout the week. As they spoke, he made sure to slip in the fact that he had been divorced for years and was currently single. She casually mentioned her ex-boyfriend as she brushed John’s leg to make a point and change the topic.

Elise kept growing wetter, and imagined this man grabbing her and kissing her, right here in the bar. She was a staunch believer that good, passionate kissing was the key to foreplay. As she watched John’s hands move while he spoke, felt his touch on her arm periodically, she knew instinctively that this man would be a world-class lover. She wanted him, without a doubt.

Her private, vivid fantasies of public and semi-public sex flashed through her mind as she finished her second drink. Elise had no qualms whatsoever about living out some wild scenarios with the right partner.

Thus, she was profoundly disappointed when John suddenly glanced at his watch and announced his need to depart for a cocktail event back at the conference.

She frowned quickly before covering it up with a smile. And her reaction was exactly what John wanted. It told him, without equivocation, that she was ready and willing. To explore. To fuck. That she wanted him perhaps as much as he wanted her.

And he really wanted her.

So that was when he proffered his proposal.

He reached into his pocket, the same one that was brushing against his still very erect cock, and extracted a small roll of hundred dollar bills. He placed it on the table in front of them. Elise watched confused and slightly suspicious, uncertain as to his intent.

John took the bills and gently put them into Elise’s palm, making sure that her fingers clutched tightly around the money. He took Elise’s other hand and placed it under the table, on his hard-on. She groaned involuntarily and began to trace its length beneath the shorts.

She could feel it pulsing despite the fabric, and more so, she felt the heat emanating from the shaft. Hot seed waiting to be released, preferably all over Elise, over and over.

“I’m not sure how much money is there,” John said in a low, deep voice, almost whispering at Elise, enjoying the exploration of her long fingers on his thick cock beneath the table. He let go of her hand, eager to see if she kept hers in place on his lap.

She did. In fact, she gripped and squeezed him harder, her face flushing. She wanted to touch it, to taste it, to suck his big, hard cock, right there, in that place, at that moment.

He continued, leaning back and opening his legs a bit wider to encourage her boldness. “…but I want you to take my winnings and invest it for me.”

Elise’s brow furrowed a bit. “Invest?” she asked, removing her hand, suddenly suspicious. “How?”

John’s voice was like a low growl. “Take it and buy the shortest, tightest, sluttiest dress you can find. And then get the sexiest bra and thong set to wear beneath it. A half-cut bra that doesn’t cover your nipples, and a silk thong a size too small, so that it barely covers your cunt. One with strings, so that I can rip it off when I so choose.”

Elise moaned audibly at the image, at the thought of him ripping his clothes off her, at what would follow. His words, his voice, the proposal, all of it was pushing her to the edge, an edge she welcomed.

“And then I want you to meet me back here at ten o’clock, same place, wearing that outfit. With the highest ‘fuck-me’ stiletto heels you can buy. I want you to be the tallest woman I’ve ever fucked.”

Elise’s head swirled. The nectars were running out of her pussy and into her panties like a stream after a thunderstorm.

“What makes you think I don’t already have those clothes with me?”

John laughed softly at the subtle challenge and matched it, looking into her eyes. He took her hand again, moving it back to his hard cock, “Do you?”

“Not all of them on your list,” she admitted matching the directness of his gaze, “but I do have a few.” She leaned next to his ear and whispered into his ear, “And you’ll never know which.”

John felt his cock twitch in excitement.

Through the heat and alcohol, a semblance of the stubborn Elise pragmatism somehow came through her arousal, and the reality was that a strange man was shoving money at her.

“You know I’m not for hire, right? How do you know I just won’t take the money and not show up?”

“Well, first, I would never assume I could buy you. Second, I feel I can trust you. I can tell. But mostly, because you want this.” John covered her hand, which was still caressing his hard-on.

His voice lowered, and he reached his other hand up, skimming his fingers along her arm, to her collar bone, along her neck, to her lips. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “And you want to be fucked, and to be fucked by me. You want to submit to me, and be my slut for the night. Because the idea şişli ucuz escort has you so fucking wet, you can barely stand it. That is how I know.”

John got up to leave, and Elise whimpered quietly, feeling a little like a hungry kitten who hadn’t been fed. His cock was now tantalizingly out of reach.

“See you at ten. If there’s cash left over, buy a little lingerie outfit for the middle of the night, too. A fashion show of sorts. Maybe a corset and garter belt set, with seamed stockings. Black.” He stroked his chin in contemplation. “Perhaps with some red or pink trim…if you don’t already have other options.”

Elise’s raised her head at his challenge, despite the desire rising up, almost drowning her.

“Crotchless panties, too, with the corset and garters. I want to put you against the plate glass window in your room and fuck you so that Vegas can watch. So make sure there’s easy access.”

She stood up quickly then, unable to sit still any longer. His words surrounded her, pulling her into the spell of his imagination and she wasn’t going to let him go so easily. She grabbed his arm as he turned to walk away, stepping close to him so that their bodies brushed against each other. This close, he had to look up slightly to meet her eyes.

She said quietly, “John, I’ll submit to you in the bedroom, and I promise, I’ll love every second of it. Outside the bedroom, well, I’ll challenge you, perhaps more than you’re used to. So here’s what you have to do. You will not masturbate or touch yourself before we meet later, no matter how hard you get. Which means that you have to go through your cocktail hour, knowing that I’m getting ready for you, knowing I’m going to my hotel room right now to masturbate where I’ll scream your name. But not you. You’re going to save everything you have for me.”

Her hand slipped down to give his cock one last squeeze then stepped back as he nodded once, smiled naughtily at her, then turned to walk away.

As she promised him, Elise went to her room and masturbated furiously, screaming his name as she came, collapsing in a puddle of her own juices.

She had just over four hours to go on her shopping spree, and prepare.

*************

John had a little time before the cocktail party and while he needed to get ready, he also had to do…something. He went up to his room and reached down to free his cock when he remembered her words, her request, well, her order, really. Who did she think she was, giving him orders? Even as he let his pants drop on the floor, he resolved to follow her request, but she would pay for it later.

If she wanted all of his cock, all of his hot seed, then he’d give it to her. Again, and again, and again. He took a few steps in his room, his imagination picturing the tall beauty touching herself, hands on nipples, teasing her clit, fingers buried in her pussy. He pictured himself covering her and filling her with his cum.

He had to get out of his room. He changed into running clothes and went to the gym. Maybe a hard run would help keep his mind off her.

Several hours later, Elise stood in the back of the elevator, towering over everyone else in her four-inch heels. One admiring man caught her eyes and winked at her when his girlfriend was looking at her phone. Elise rolled her eyes. She had selected an expensive dark blue designer dress that molded to her body almost perfectly.

Perfectly, except that it was made for a woman much shorter than her, leaving much to be desired in the length. The salesman helping her hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her ass, when she tried it on. She had noticed a small tent appear in his pants and knew she had found the right dress. Sophisticated slut was the result and between showing off the shape and size of her breasts without them spilling out, and her long legs, this dress had been practically made for sex.

And made for her. With the lower cut back, it was made not to wear anything under it except for the tiny scrap of lace that passed as a thong. Elise walked confidently through the casino to the lounge, feeling the stares that raked across every inch of her 6’2″ body.

John sat towards the back of the bar. He checked the time, wondering if she would make him wait. She was a few minutes late already. He saw the heads of a few men turning and knew she had arrived.

In heels, Elise was a 6’6″ amazon, oozing sex. It poured out of her in waves. She walked over to him, her long legs moving with the confidence of a woman who knows she is being watched, who knows she is lusted after, who knows she is going to get what she wants. Even if what she wants is to be fucked until she can’t remember her name.

John watched as she walked towards him. In his suit, he knew he looked good, he could match her confidence and make her submit. His cock started to stiffen as he considered that this amazon was his for the night.

“You’re late,” was all he said, standing up to greet her. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him so she could feel his cock against her thigh. His other hand caught her neck and he pulled her in for a kiss. It was slow, sensual and filled with the promise of what would like ahead. “You know, I punish women who are late,” he whispered into her ear as he let her go.

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