The Kennedys, 2.6: What happens in Vegas.

I woke up, Kiki was there smiling at me. She pulled off the covers so I could see the full magnificence which is her body. She really is the sexiest woman alive; I’m not biased or anything. I wasn’t thinking about it then, but I really am blessed. I married Dr Kiki Kennedy, my favorite porn star. Not just that, she’s now the CEO of a successful porn production company, and she encourages the talent (the girls anyway) to fuck me. So I’ve had a lot to compare her to and she is still the sexiest, I know this for a fact. So not yet thirty, smoking hot body, always horny, devastatingly intelligent (the title “Dr” is for real, in particle physics), rich, and she likes to share. I’m not seeing a downside here (and there isn’t one in this story).

“Breakfast?” She asked.

I got hard almost instantly at that, I’ll explain why in a second. She reached over and handed me the room service book, I had a look over it and selected the American Breakfast, maybe not the most exciting choice in the world, but the kitchens at a fancy hotel like this make it pretty delicious. And it was all expensed.

We were on a business trip, to Las Vegas, for the AVN show. (AVN is “Adult Video News,” the trade paper for the porn industry, they have a big show, and it coincides with CES.) So Kiki’s company was paying for all of this, which is good, I would not have wanted to spend the $900/night the hotel charged while CES is in town. That $900 is just for their cheap room, they had more expensive ones, but even their cheap room is about the nicest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. We’ve stayed in a few nice ones traveling for Kiki’s business. As the CES was now over, this night had only cost the company $300. We were staying on for a romantic break.

As Vegas hotels go, this was a weird one. It was very conveniently located on the center of the strip, just a monorail hop away from the convention center, but it’s non-smoking, and it has no casino. It’s like an oasis of sanity in the midst of the madness which is Vegas. Being a Californian, I never really appreciated “non-smoking” until I got to Vegas the first time. People still smoke indoors there, it’s horrible.

So Kiki calls room service and orders our breakfast, then says, “Time for a summoning ritual.” That’s why I got hard, she likes to pleasure me, while we’re waiting for breakfast to arrive. Calling it a “summoning ritual” goes back to a time in college when we ordered a pizza, then we started fooling around. It got to the point where she was blowing me, and I was thinking I’d be coming soon when the pizza arrived. Someone made a comment about that being a “summoning ritual” and the name stuck.

I just lay there, and she got to work. I like that. She started rubbing her boobs all over me, in my face, I like boobs in my face (or, just I LIKE BOOBS), then down my body. When she got to my dick she popped it in her mouth briefly to get it good and wet, then rubbed her boobs up and down it. She trapped the dick in her cleavage and started jacking me off like that. I like that. Honestly, I like it however she gets me off.

She starts blowing me. At those times when my dick is sticking out from between her boobs, her mouth is there to catch it. That’s even better. I’m just happy. I’m not caring about coming or anything, I’m just lying there not thinking. I’m probably moaning, moaning is good it tells them they’re doing it right. Then, she stops. Before I can fully process this development, she’s at it again, this time with her pussy. She’s on top of me, fucking me.

I like doing a lot of things, and a lot of them are my favorite, but this is particularly good. I just lie there and be lazy, and her pussy works on my dick to make me come. I can watch her bounce up and down. She bounces particularly nicely; those boobs which had just been wrapped around my dick are perfect. I’m really getting into this, and so is Kiki, she’s moaning now, it’s not going to be long for either of us. Then the doorbell rings, I come, and Kiki says, “Shit! It worked too well.” And laughed. I don’t think she’s come yet.

She leaves me, fucked senseless on the bed, throws on her kimono, and goes to answer the door. She’s said of that kimono, that it “leaves a lot to be desired as clothing.” My response is I don’t think that’s its primary purpose. Its primary purpose is to turn me on, not that I usually need much help with that. The kimono is barely big enough to wrap around her boobs; she usually lets it hang open. It’s barely long enough to cover her pussy. So when she’s wearing it, she’s constantly teasing you with glimpses of what’s under it.