Not gonna lie, I'm not the best looking guy. I'm bald, mid 40s, none too trim around the waistline. I have no kids, never been married. An intellectual of sorts, and not much of a ladies man, but with plenty of extra to spend. It had been awhile since I got laid.
My friends and I had decided on a Vegas trip. After some drinks, gambling half our paychecks and plenty of bullshitting, we headed into a regular steakhouse for some afternoon chow.
After finishing up our food, a couple of 30s-looking women approached our table.
"Hey darlin'," one of the girls sat down at a barstool and shimmied up to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressing her breasts into my chest. I liked the way she said it, 'dah-lin.' A Texas girl, I imagined, with her bright blonde hair, large bust and thick bottomed jeans.
"Hey cutie," I replied, more than a little drunk, still sipping on my beer. I snugged her close to me, wrapping one arm around her hips, enjoying the feel of her body.
"What you boys up to tonight?" she drawled, tracing a finger up my chest.
"Oh. Just out and about."
We chatted a bit, me telling her about my career in finance, until I finally asked, "So, what do you do?"
She giggled, slapping a hand against my chest.
"Anything you want sugar."
I smiled. Shit, what was Vegas good for anyway? "How much a pretty Vegas lady like you charge for a private escort?"
She pretended to look thoughtful, pouting her lips and fluttering long lashes.
"For you, honey, we make it five bills."
I pulled out my wallet for the tab, discreetly tucked $300 under the receipt that I slid towards her. I leaned over and mentioned quietly the amount for a deposit. She smiled and nodded.
"I'm just down the street."
I signaled to my friends with a wave and they grinned. Susanna-the name she claimed anyway-and I made our exit and walked to my hotel room.
Once inside, I tossed my coat on the chair, opened a bottle of wine and turned on the electric fireplace.
"So. Susanna," I said conversationally, pulling out another $200. "You into dominance games?"
"Baby, I'm into whatever makes a big tiger like you happy."
I offered her some wine-I'm not rude, even when I'm paying a lady-and watched her sip it delicately. She set her glass aside and began a slow, sensual trace of hands over her bodice. First, squeezing her breasts together under the thin material of her cropped shirt, then trailing her fingers to the band of her jean shorts. She did a cute little turn, her hands cupping her ass and lifting her thick cheeks, letting the shorts ride up just a little.
