Vegas Baby 8

*All characters are over 18 years of age. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A nice short one.

"Are ye not cummin in de pool?" she asked, joining him on the sofa.

"Watchin telly. De gayum is on."

"Ah? Who's winnin?"

"United. Wat's up wit u anyways?"

"Nuhin. Just wanted te talk te ye."

Fresh from the pool, Ashley wore her white bikini. Tits and ass swelled against the thin fabric. Conall wasn't much better. Splayed out on the leather sofa, he wore nothing but his running shorts and flip flops. The Vegas weather was kind to young exposed skin. He lowered the volume on the tv.

"Wanted te say tanks, actually," Ashley continued.

"Yeah? For wa?"

She pinched his bicep and smiled.

"For all dis ye big ejit! Vegas, de penthouse, de private jets, de shoes, de.."

"Arigh! Arigh! Don't worry abou it. Yer family, and sure ye help us ou wit de kids and tha."

"I luv dem so much, Conall. Dey make me realise how much I want kids of me own sum day. Buh, I suppose I'm just really tankful for de life yiv given me. For a dropout from Dublin, I'm not doin bad in life, and it's all tanks te u."

His eyes stayed on her pronounced chest as she tied back dirty blonde hair.

"And...well...I can do much more dan just look after yer kids."

He barely took notice of the hand gliding over his solid pecs.

"All deeze tattoos. Yer a mad ting! I'd never pull off dat many."

They both looked down at the ink near her hips.

"It's different for men," Conall said. "Too many of dem make a woman seem slutty."

"Not always a bad ting."

They stared at each other as Asley fingered his beard. Her eyes went narrow and dark. Conall straightened up on the sofa.

"Show us de one on de back of yer neck," he said.

He got a good view as she went down. He glanced around even though he knew they were alone. Running shorts were no barrier at all. New territory for him, it took him a while to stiffen in her mouth.

"Ohhhhhph!"

His palm almost covered her head. He sank thick fingers through damp hair. The odd strand got trapped under his shiny rings. The combined image of gold resting on a bimbo's head struck him.

"So dis is what suckcess luks like?"

Her groan sent saliva down his dick. Countless women had blown him before. Ashley was different to the other girls. Every now and again she'd lock lips as tightly as she could around his swollen shaft. Then she'd pepper his balls with kisses. It was nothing new, yet everything was different with Ashley.

"Shit. Sorry," he said after jolting. "Ronaldo fukin missed."

As his balls stirred, his interest in the game dwindled. Her lips were as soft as the hair he threaded. She was a good girl, and didn't complain once about the jewel covered fingers that snagged the odd strand.

"Ashley...smile baby."

Her confused frown turned to a grin on registering his pointed smartphone.

"Yer a bleedin mad yoke," she said

She wasted no time in getting back to her blowjob.

Conall filmed panoramic shots of the luxurious penthouse, as well as the woman's hair in his fist.

"Yeah...Keep goin baby."

He sighed to the swirl of her writhing tongue. Pacing himself, he decided to take notice of the tattoo he'd asked to see. What did the random Chinese letter mean? Who the fuck knew. Her neck was thin and so very delicate. Like in a man's strength, there was a beauty to her female fragility. His grip tightened over the ink. Ashly's mouth worked harder. Heavy breathing quickened. Conall's throat rattled as lips locked.

"AAhhhhhhhhhh!"

He loosened his grip as the pulses eventually weakened. He was silently impressed by her lack of spillage. Done with her loving orifice, he stuffed a hand down bikini bottoms and squeezed a firm ass. He smiled on hearing the gulp of a clean swallow.

"Atta gurl."

He hoped his phone's microphone had picked up the sound as he pressed stop on the video. The front door opened as she lifted off him. An unconcerned Ashley rubbed him off her chin and smiled. She was fixing her ponytail as his wife came into the room. The sofa blocked the view of a husband's saliva covered cock.

"Hey youse. De heat ou der isn't fukin righ!" Bee said, barely able to carry her shopping.

Ashley leaned close to whisper a parting 'thank you'. Her wrist glanced his softening manhood. Cradling his greasy balls gave weight to her words.

"I'm deadly serious abou wantin kids of me own sum day...Daddy!"

She turned to Conall's unsuspecting wife.

"Let me give ye a hand babe. Ohh, get anyting nice?"

Conall stuffed his cock back under running shorts. He stayed put on the sofa as the girls tried on new clothes. It took him a while to pick all of his sister's hair from under his rings.