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From: Rod OSteele <rdosteele@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas part II (Mf 1st) {Rod O'Steele}
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Date: Wed, 21 Sep 2005 16:10:04 -0400
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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by the author unless explicitly waived.  Non-commercial re-posts
to ASSM or similar venues are allowed provided copyright information
remains on the re-posted story.  As a courtesy to the author please do not
delete the copyright information.  No commercial reprints are authorized.
The author relishes your comments at rdosteele (at) yahoo (dot) com.  If
you like this story, see my other stories at www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/osteele/www.

   Thanks to my proof reader, Chuck, who makes it look like I actually have
mastered English.  Any mistakes which remain are strictly my own stubborn
fault.

   WARNINGS: Pay attention to the codes.  This story depicts consensual
sexual activity between men and women.  Some of the participants in the
story are under the age of 18.  If you are too young to read about sex
please do not read this.





   What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas



   Part II





   The next day I spent listening to speaker after speaker drone on about
the economic outlook and their predictions about where the economy was
headed.  Economics is an interesting practice.  It's the only job where you
can be wrong 100% of the time and keep your job, maybe get a promotion. 
UCLA has a model which has predicted an economic downturn year after year
while the economy continued to expand.  What did they do?  Change it?  No,
they kept saying maybe this year we'll be right.  Yep, sooner or later the
economy will have to have a downturn.  Sooner or later they will be right.



   I often was distracted remembering the previous night.  Most of the time
it was pleasant memories, but sometimes a doubt would intrude.  What if
Larissa told someone and that someone told her parents.  Would I be met at
the door of my room by two outraged fathers?  The day dragged on.



   Finally, the agony ended.  I grabbed a quick bite and headed to my room.
Silly, but I did look down the hall before I stepped out.  The hall was
empty.  In my room, I flipped on ESPN and relaxed.  Again, some doubt
entered.  I hoped Larissa doesn't tell anyone, I kept praying.



   Then, a knock.  My heart raced, I felt the tingle of adrenaline surging
through me.  Cautiously, I went to the door and peeked through the eyehole.
I saw a young blonde and that was all.  `Who the hell is she?' I wondered.
I opened the door.  "Yes?"



   "I'm Chelsea," she said simply.



   I was momentarily confused, thinking, `Yeah, so?' Then it hit me,
Chelsea.  Larissa's friend.  "What are you doing here?"



   She looked up and down the hall.  "Can I come in?"



   "Um, sure." I held open the door.



   Chelsea brushed past me and ended up sitting on the bed.  I turned off
the TV and joined her.  "Larissa mentioned you and she were rooming
together."



   "Yeah.  We wanted to stay home but our folks said no way they were
leaving us together.  They thought we'd get into trouble." Then she looked
at me with a smirk on her face, "If they only knew."



   I blushed.  Yes, if their parents only knew, they would have left them
in San Jose.  "So, you and Larissa are friends."



   "Yeah, like forever.  I'm two years older than Larissa but we've been
friends since like, we could talk.  We're almost more like sisters than
friends.  We tell each other everything."



   I knew what that everything was.  Then I considered what she had said.
If she was two years older than Larissa, she must be eighteen.  If we got
together it would be legal back in California.  Be nice to have a cute
young girlfriend.  Things were looking up.  "I am a little concerned that
everything gets talked about, if you know what I mean."



   "Oh no.  It's cool.  Larissa and me, we keep secrets totally.  This is
just one more secret we'll share.  I know things...  Well, so does she."
Chelsea laughed.  "We go to school together and don't tell anybody our
business."



   "You both go to the same school?"



   "Yeah, I'm a junior..."



   "Junior?" I interrupted before I could stop myself, "Junior.  But I
thought you were eighteen."



   Chelsea looked at me funny.  "No.  I'm sixteen."



   "But if you're two years older than Larissa..." I paused.



   "She's fourteen," Chelsea finished.  She saw the surprised on my face.
"You didn't know?"



   I shook my head.  "I thought she was sixteen."



   "That's why all that age of consent stuff.  Me and Larissa wondered
about that.  You thought she was sixteen.  Larissa is a freshman.  Wait
till I tell Larissa you thought she was sixteen.  She'll be ripped you
thought she was that old." Chelsea could see the distracted look on my
face. "Hey!" to get my attention.  "Don't worry.  I told you, we keep our
secrets.  Nobody else is ever going to know.  Just like nobody is ever
going to know I'm here.  Larissa is covering for me.  The secret is for
just the three of us.  And, I am sixteen."



   "What did Larissa tell you?" I asked in a bid for time so that I could
order my thoughts.



   Chelsea sat up and became more animated, acting the typical teen.  "Oh
God.  She said it was like, incredible.  Better than she thought it could
be.  Better than when we do it ourselves."



   "Yourselves?"



   Chelsea looked abashed, then she smiled crookedly.  "Well, I told you we
are real close.  So, we kinda have experimented with things...  with each
other, you know.  I mean, we kinda practiced some things."



   "Practice?" I asked.



   "Yeah, we touch each other, down there even.  Just hands." I raised my
eyebrow in a question.  "Oh gross.  I'd never do that with a girl." She
looked up at me.  "Larissa said you did that to her."



   "That?"



   "You know, kissed her down there.  She said it made her cum, big.  You
like it?"



   "I love it.  I love to please my partner; and women really seem to love
it," I said.



   Chelsea looked off into the distance, "Wow." Then she was back, "I mean,
boys are just so weird most of the time.  We don't do nothing gay.  Just
touch each other.  So Larissa told me about how you guys did it and how she
liked it.  She said she came over and over.  I've never done that, had
multiples.  I read about them in Cosmo, but never had them."



   When Chelsea took a breath I broke in, "So, Larissa enjoyed our time
together?"



   "God yes.  She was going to come tonight.  I had to like, threaten her
to let me come.  Not really threaten, you know.  We have our ways," she
said laughing.



   "You want to do what I did with Larissa?" I asked.



   A solemn expression came over her face before she nodded.



   "You nervous?"



   She nodded.



   "It's okay to be nervous.  What would you like to do?"



   "Like you did with Larissa," she said.



   I smiled.  It looked like I wasn't going to get more than that.  Okay,
like Larissa.  I leaned towards her.  Her head came up and our lips
touched, a gentle kiss to start.  The kiss quickly grew passionate, our
tongues dueling.  I brought my hand up and lightly touched her tits. 
Chelsea trembled at the touch, then pressed forward.  I cupped her small
breast and tweaked her nipple, bringing forth a moan.  I had worried that
maybe little Chelsea would be reticent, this being her first time.  I quit
worrying.  She was already hot to trot.  Apparently whatever Larissa had
told her in their `secret' discussions had Chelsea more than ready.



   I ran my hand down over her belly which trembled under the touch, then
up under her tight belly shirt.  She moaned again as my hand caressed her
tits through her bra and we continued kissing.  The kisses were getting a
bit sloppy from her urgency as she moaned and pressed against my hand.  It
was time to get her naked.



   I broke the kiss as she followed me trying to keep kissing.  "Wait,' I
said, stopping her.  I pulled the bottom of her shirt.  She understood and
held up her arms as I pulled it over her head.  I reached around her and
unfastened her bra which fell off.  She tossed it aside.  I bent forward
and took a nipple between my lips.  Chelsea held me against her tit as I
teased and nibbled first one then the other.  Her nipple stood up, hard and
distended.  As I kissed lower Chelsea fell back on the bed.  When I reached
the top of her jeans I looked up to see if there were any second thoughts.
Her eyes, full of desire, were watching me.  I smiled making her smile as I
unfastened the jeans.  I hooked my thumbs in and pulled them along with her
panties off her legs.  That took me off the bed.  I stood beside the bed,
holding my trophy.  She lay on the bed, now completely naked.  She was
beautiful.



   I pulled my shirt off over me head.  As I did Chelsea bounded off the
bed and grabbed at my Dockers, fumbled with the zipper, before finally
getting them undone.  She looked up at me as she pushed them down.  When my
cock bounced free it almost hit her.  Startled, she gasped and backed away.
Then she looked up at me and started giggling.  It stood proudly, pointing
straight at her.  She paused and studied my throbbing pole.  Her hand
slowly came up and touched it.  It bounced away.  She giggled, "Do that
again." I flexed causing it to bounce.  Chelsea giggled.  "I didn't know
guys could do that."



   "I don't know if all guys can.  But I've always been able to make it
bounce," I told her.



   "That's cute," she said.



   [jpg]



   I hoped that was a compliment, cute.  I mean, I don't normally want my
cock to be called cute.  I pushed the Dockers off and climbed back on the
bed.  Chelsea jumped up on the bed, stretching and teasing me, "So, what
are you going to do?"



   I grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the bed, "I'm the big bad
wolf and I'm going to eat you up, little red riding hood."



   "No, no you horrid bad wolf," she said giggling.



   "Oh yes," I said pushing her back onto the bed and kissed her.  This
time skin touched soft hot skin.  I always love the feel of a woman's skin,
so soft, so enticing.  I ran my hands over her back, caressing her from her
neck down to her ass as we kissed hard, then soft and back to frenzied. 
Chelsea seems to tremble when I touched her neck.  Chelsea moaned and
pressed her body to mine.  Jesus, but I was getting massively horny kissing
this little sexpot.  I had to remind myself that she was a virgin and to go
slowly.



   I kissed and nibbled her neck for some time.  She was trembling and
moaning.  I guessed that was a real erogenous spot for her.  But I was
getting hotter and needed more.  I kissed lower until I reached her small
tits with their hard nipples.  Chelsea pressed up as I kissed and licked
her tits, taking the whole thing into my mouth as I sucked on them.



   Her pussy was wet and hot as I rubbed it and drove my finger between her
lips.  The heat of her pussy on my hand excited me.  I knew she was ready
for more.  Dropping between her legs I looked at her spread pussy, wet and
ready, surmounted by a small patch of hair.  I spread her open and lapped
at her, starting at the bottom and running up and around her button, not
touching it, teasing it, almost touching but not quite, before working my
way back down.  Chelsea was squirming, trying to bring her clitoris in
contact with the teasing tongue.  I held her hips tighter, controlling her
and continued my teasing.  While I was teasing I looked at her pussy, open
and wet for me.  Is there anything quite as beautiful as an aroused woman's
pussy?  I saw her opening and I didn't see any hymen, not even a small
annular ring of skin.  I was a bit surprised.  I looked up at Chelsea, who
opened her eyes at the cessation of licking.



   "Is this your first time?" I asked.



   "Yeah.  Oh, my cherry?" she asked.



   I nodded.



   "I used to do gymnastics.  I landed on the beam once, right between my
legs, hard.  The doctor said I ruptured it.  God it hurt.  He said it
wouldn't make any difference."



   "It will make one difference," I said.



   "What?"



   "It will make your first time easier," I said.  I didn't take the time
to tell her that many pediatricians now think that female circumcision,
that is removing the hymen at birth, should be done.  That flap of skin
doesn't do anything useful.  It only causes pain.  So she was on the
leading edge you might say.



   I bent forward and attacked her clitoris.  Chelsea moaned, "Christ
yes..." Why is it that there aren't any atheist orgasms?  Maybe the
Japanese are right.  You are never closer to God than at the moment of
orgasm.  That would make having them, or giving them, a religious duty.



   You know, philosophers have spent countless years working on proofs of
God's existence.  There is Descartes' Ontological proof, Aquinas'
Cosmological proof, Anselm's Reductio Ad Absurdum.  There is the
teleological argument.  It just goes on and on with no one coming up with
an absolutely irrefutable argument.  Now, I have definitively proved the
existence of God.  The proof by orgasm.  I came.  She came.  We saw God. 
Or even better: When people cum they call out, "Oh God, Oh God." People cum
all of the time.  Therefore, God exists.  Nietzsche would have loved it,
had he not been an atheist, since he believed that the meaning of life
can't be found in reason, it must come from the passions.  Now, if I can
just get the Christians pushing Intelligent Design to incorporate Proof by
Cumming, those high school kids will really enjoy their educations.



   In the meantime, Chelsea's hips were bouncing around as I sucked and
licked on her pussy, especially her clitoris.  I slowly inserted a finger
into her vagina, pushing until it was buried completely.  Then I worked it
back and forth while curling the tip up into the spongy mass of her G spot.
She went crazy.  I had to put my free hand on her pubis to hold her down so
that I could continue licking and sucking at her pussy while finger fucking
her.  Chelsea was moaning faster and faster, then she shuddered, went
stiff, her body trembling, and fell back against the bed.



   I smiled to myself.  I love to feel a woman's climax.  I guess I must be
a very religious person.



   I moved up beside Chelsea, softly touching her as she recovered.  Her
eyes opened and she smiled.  "What was that?"



   "An orgasm," I said.



   "No.  I know that.  I mean, your finger.  What did you do?"



   "That was your G spot.  I bet you read about that in Cosmo," I said.



   "Oh yeah.  I did." She looked thoughtful.  "Wow.  The article didn't say
it would be like that."



   "You know originally, they were going to call Cosmo, Better Orgasms
magazine," I told her.



   "Really?" she asked.  Then she thought about it.  "No they weren't." She
rolled towards me.  "You're teasing me."



   "I am.  What are you going to do?"



   She leaned forward bringing her lips to within an inch of mine.  "Make
you make love to me," as she leaned in and kissed me.  That sounded like a
fine idea.



   The kiss was hot and passionate.  I pushed her back and moved over her,
settling between her legs.  My cock found her wet and ready as I pushed
forward.  Her pussy flowered open, taking me in as a flower opens for the
bee to bring the pollen.



   Chelsea was tight, but she was wet and aroused as well, and my cock slid
into her with but the briefest hesitation.  I pressed in until my body met
hers.  I looked down at her sweet pure face, contorted now with lust.  It
was the image of an angel, Bernini's angel that is, the one bringing an
orgasm to Saint Teresa.  You can tell it was a very spiritual orgasm.



   I began fucking the girl under me, very slowly at first, then faster. 
Chelsea kept up, meeting me thrust after thrust, her hips matching the
natural rhythm of sex.  Her hands went to my hips, pulling on them on every
downwards stroke.  Her fingers dug into my ass as a keening wail broke from
her throat.  I felt her pussy spasm around my cock and my own climax
erupted, pouring forth, filling the young girl under me with my seed.



   Sated, I came to rest buried in her.  She writhed under me, extracting
the last of her pleasure until she too, fully sated, fell back.



   We had been lazing together for some time, just enjoying the pleasant
lassitude that comes from a good sex workout.  Chelsea looked up at me, her
hand touching my chest.  "So, I guess we can't do this when we get back to
California?"



   "No, sorry sweetheart.  That would be bad," I said.



   "Are you sure?"



   "My brain says no," I told her.



   "I didn't think boys thought with their brain," she said smiling.



   I laughed.  "They don't.  But sometimes we learn as we get older."



   "Do you think with your dick?" she asked.



   "Sometimes," I laughed.



   "Maybe I'll have to do something about that." She rolled over to her
side of the bed and grabbed her purse off the floor.  She rummaged in it
for a second producing a scrap of paper and a pen.  She scribbled some
numbers and handed it to me.  "Here's my cell number.  Promise you'll
call."



   "I can't promise.  But I'll keep the number."



   Chelsea looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked, "Would you like to
do Larissa and me together?  I read in Cosmo that all men have that as a
major fantasy.  Do you?"



   As fucked out as I was, I felt the stirring in my loins, imaging Larissa
and Chelsea together in my bed, blonde and brunette.  My two virgins.  "Of
course I have that fantasy.  All guys do.  But Larissa is fourteen.  I'd go
to jail forever."



   "I told you we keep secrets.  You aren't going to jail.  Larissa is
covering for me right now.  It'll be easier back home.  We could get away
by pretending to be going to the mall to hang with friends.  Wouldn't you
like to have both of us come over?" She said coquettishly



   "Yes, I would." I paused.  "No promises.  I'll think about it.  Should
you go?"



   She glanced at the clock.  "Yeah, probably." She threw her arms around
my neck and planted a kiss on me.  "Thank you.  It was better than I hoped.
You were wonderful."



   "So were you, sweetie.  So were you."



   We took a quick shower together, she dressed and was ready.  We kissed
at the door and Chelsea said, "I'll be waiting for that call." Then she was
gone.



   I went over to the rumpled bed and lay back, contented beyond belief.  I
had never expected this when I had said hello to the girl in front of the
store.  I decided I should go window shopping more often.





   Epilog





   About a month later I was in my bedroom and remembered the girls.  It
all came flooding back, those two glorious nights with Larissa and Chelsea.
Then I remembered her proposal, the two of them together.  My cock grew
hard and desire flared in my breast.  I felt the energy flooding me, making
me feel charged up and no one to help me discharge it.  It had been a slow
couple of months for me on the dating scene.  Women my age were either
getting desperate as their biological clocks ticked, or they were desperate
because they should be.  Younger women were either too picky to date an
older guy, or they were still into the party scene, which I definitely
didn't fit into anymore.



   My cock was throbbing, demanding some attention.  There were two
beautiful sexy girls just fifty miles south of me.  At this moment, they
were that close and willing, I hoped they were still willing, to satisfy my
erotic appetite.  I was thinking about that little piece of paper, seven
digits that promised relief.  Even more than relief, they promised an orgy
with two nubile females.  I knew I shouldn't call them.  This was
California and they were jail bait.  But the images in my mind were Larissa
and Chelsea, naked, together in my bed.  I knew which head was going to win
this round.



   I started looking for that scrap of paper, yellow I remembered.  I
searched the top of my drawers, then beside the bed.  Nothing.  I started
rummaging through my desk.  Nothing.  I went back to the bedroom and sat
and thought, where could it be?  I cleaned off the top of my bureau,
nothing.  I looked in drawers and emptied out the dirty clothes, nothing.



   Frustrated, I had an inspiration.  It must be with my travel papers at
work.  I wanted to call the girls now, so I headed off to work.  The
building was deserted on a Sunday.  I went to my office and found my travel
folder.  All of the paperwork was there: receipts, reimbursement request,
flight information, and conference agenda, everything except a little slip
of yellow paper.



   Now I was worried.  I headed home, determined to find that paper.  To
tell it briefly, I tore up the house looking for that paper.  It never
appeared.  I stormed around the house, furious that I could have lost it.
Of course, it didn't do me any good at all.  The paper never appeared.  I
guess that paper stayed in Vegas.  Just my luck.



   If you find a little torn piece of yellow paper with a phone number
written in a girl's script, give me a holler will you.  I really need that
number.

















   If you'd like to see other stories try www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/osteele/www I'd love
to hear what you thought of this story.  rdosteele (at) yahoo (dot) com

   __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!?  Tired
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