TRUE STORY: What Happens In Vegas ... Stays Burned In My Memory (revised) - Sex Stories

TRUE STORY: What Happens In Vegas ... Stays Burned In My Memory (revised)

The story is completely true and happened in November 2019, just before Covid hit.

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She came through the revolving door as if she were gliding on air. She had an elegance that belied her age ... just 24 ... and her smooth stride somehow masked the fact that she was 6-foot 2-inches in her heels. A few steps in, she stopped. She told me she was a model but people lie so often I didn't expect the claim to be true. But she most certainly was runway material. Her leather-clad legs were miles long. Her hips, while slender, tapered into an even more slender waist. Her breasts shattered the flat-chested model norm, and while I couldn't tell how ample they were from across the lobby, but it was clear she was packing a serious pair under her silky, flowing blouse.

It was almost 2:00 am. Because it was a Tuesday night, the casino lobby was nearly empty. I was glad for that because I was in Las Vegas on business. I'd been nervously scanning the lobby and adjacent bar to be sure none of my colleagues were there. Given that I was a white married man who was nearly 60, I didn't need the trouble. Well, I actually did need a certain kind of trouble, and Lauren answered my Double List ad that was looking for the adult-fun kind of trouble.

With her in my sights, I got up from my dark corner seat at the bar and walked to her. I'm only 5'9", so she towered over me. It sure as hell didn't bother me, and the way she smiled down at me, it ...

... didn't bother her either. We walked to the elevator making small talk. I always ask the women who answer my ads why they do (answer my ads). Lauren answered honestly, "This isn't something I'm going to make a habit of, and you sounded like fun ... and kind of sweet. And I've never been with a white man before ... and definitely not your age!" Lauren was Black, and her skin was the color of rich hot chocolate.

I am from Chicago, and Lauren wasn't like the typical Black women I knew. The Chicago stereotype fit many of them: loud entitled divas. Lauren spoke quietly and with just a trace of Southern California accent. She was articulate, kind and authentic.

Laurens facial features were gorgeous. Her big brown eyes melded perfectly with high cheekbones and a perfect nose. Her smile could melt glass, and it certainly melted me. Her relaxed hair fell about to her shoulders.

Always the gentleman, I opened the door to my suite and let her in. The huge room had a panoramic view of The Strip. I mixed myself (yet) another drink ... I'd expected her nearly 4 hours earlier and had needed some liquid courage to follow up with her on the phone. Now I was riding the buzz and felt great.

While we'd talked earlier about a photo session, I was way too horny to go through the whole photographer/model thing. We both decided to skip our planned photo shoot even though I was a professional photographer and she was a model. Plus I wanted to get to the fun part of our meeting, and I wasn't ...