Viva Las Vegas

Having fun with Roxie. Again and again.

The problem with screwing someone you really like is you actually miss them when they’re gone.

Since sleeping with Roxie in June, I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. Sure, I’ve slept with other people and thoroughly enjoyed their company but Roxie is who my thoughts return to these days when I’m cuddled up alone in bed late at night.

Apparently her thoughts return to me as well because about three weeks ago I got an early morning email titled “Crazy Thought” which simply asked, “What are you doing August 7-8?”

Our flights to Las Vegas were booked by noon.

Less than two weeks later, I stood in our luxurious Tower Suite in Encore Hotel, pressed against the glass, enjoying the breathtaking view of the Strip, Roxie’s hands on my mostly naked body.

Tearing off the sparkly silver star pasties I donned for our first night together, she threw me on the couch and went down on me.

Twice.

I was expecting there to be a bit of an awkward moment of re-acquaintance but once again we easily slipped into familiarity, kissing like seasoned lovers and talking like old friends.

When Roxie arrived from Chicago late the first night, my sister and I were already three drinks in, enjoying the unseasonably cool Las Vegas evening on the outside patio at Blush, a delightfully intimate nightclub in the hotel. I was there as press, reviewing Encore and Wynn for an article, and we were thoroughly enjoying their hospitality.

Appearing in a casual outfit spiced up with a tie, Roxie kissed me and then immediately became friends with my sister. They talked of my fabulously beautiful niece, life living in Vegas and the ridiculously short dresses other women were wearing that showed their “hoohas” when they bent over.

By the time my sister headed home to her baby, she was as enamored with Roxie as I was.

Deciding a change of venue would be nice, Roxie and I headed to Surrender, a pool-side nightclub that, as Roxie put it, felt like Spring Break threw up in Vegas. There were scantily clad, drunken, young party-goers as far as the eye could see but all either of us wanted to do was get back to the hotel room.

After the dual orgasms she gave me on the couch, we moved to the shower and wasted Las Vegas’s precious water as we took our time touching, teasing and tasting each other.

Both being of the pass out after sex variety, we laid naked holding each other on our plush king bed, spent and satisfied.

Completely comfortable in her arms, I fell asleep listening to a mixed CD she made me and thinking that sometimes it’s not all bad being that lesbian.

Continued next week…

 

Blogger Bio: Queerie Bradshaw loves shoes, social justice and sex. Born a farmer’s daughter, she believes everyone deserves a good roll in the hay, and feels empowered by her feminine sexuality. She frequently travels both domestically and abroad, exploring women and wine from all regions. Now a law student who dances burlesque on the side, she fights for international rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of good porn. You can visit her website at www.queeriebradshaw.com/, follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/QueerieBradshaw) and friend her on Facebook.

 

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