My mission in meeting up with Alexis May wasn't so much to get laid as it was to get waylaid with insights about what makes her tick. That she fascinated me as inscrutable but hardly inscrewable brought expectations to a never-reached-before level.
She arrived dead on time in the lobby and called up to my room. I told her that I'd find her easily. I'd just look for the most beautiful girl in the hotel (don't ask me whence my brilliance derives, it's just there). Further, I gave her a secret code word to identify me by: Haggis.
I emerge from the elevator and immediatley spy her peripherally, about sixty feet away in a short black dress and silver hooker heels. I purposely refrain from eye contact and head in another direction. Then when it's clear to me that it's clear to her that I'm not me, I circle back and approach her. "Can you tell me where I can find a good haggis burrito around here?"
Since I had ten minutes to think that one up and she had a split second to react to it, I could hardly fault her for saying "Bob?"
We exchange hellos and I suggest we bring her bag up to the room. On the way up, she says "A haggis burrito, hmmm, I don't think I've ever had one of those before."
Conversation over dinner is perfunctory. I try to excavate some details about her passions, but she leaves it at movies and music, without identifying an example from either genre that fills her with emotion. Then she mentions travel and I figure I can make some headway here. She allows that she has traveled extensively in conjunction with being a "sex worker." It's a phrase that leaves me a little cold, but it's too early to pass judgment on her sexual persona from a simple dispassionate choice of words.
Conversation meanders from there until she asks what I do for a living, with propriety. I explain my lot, my fortune and my ambitions, one of which, I tell her as we've gotten to the bottom of a 42-ounce pitcher of margaritas, is to "fuck porn stars." I make far stronger eye contact with her after saying this than I had during the 90 minutes or so we'd been together.
It was here that the evening pivoted. Whereas so far any little laughs she'd allowed me had been of the lightly-amused variety, the throaty "heh heh heh" she let out and accompanying wicked smile infused me with a burning desire -- to get the check.
Back at the room, I present Alexis with the type of t-shirt you can only buy in Vegas: "Stop Staring at My Eyes with Your Tits." I have her try it on, and sure enough as she is momentarily topless, her tits are definitely staring at my eyes. I think she likes me!
So now that I'd seen those glorious tits in person, the thought occured to me: Best pair of boobs since Marilyn Lange. And if I were dating myself with the reference, any remorse soon evaporated with the realization of whom else I was dating.
So we kissed a bit. Alexis was a little taciturn with the tongue and I decided against pursuing a make-out session as into it was something I didn't think she'd be especially.
By now the t-shirt was off and so would have been the panties -- had she been wearing any. Nude on my bed I kissed away at her boobs and when I wasn't, kneaded her nipples. Boy did I ever knead her nipples. They felt like dice in my hands, so large were they.
I offered a massage, which she gladly accepted, totally, as I say, in the nude. As she lay face down, Alexis' enormous tits spilled out to either side of her. It was sidal nudity, even though she was flat agains the bed on her stomach.
As I worked her back I started probing a little. I learned with some disappointment that her tits are not a pleasure center. She hardly feels anything at all. Queue the pussy! After squeezing the taut flesh all over her firm legs, back and ass, I spread her legs slightly apart and tasted Alexis May's twat.
It tasted like nothing. It's a twat after all. But you know full well that my mind was tricked into thinking I was lapping away at ambrosia, God's select.
Alexis was clearly relaxed and enjoying herself. I figured this was as good a time as any to pop the question. I changed my intonation noticeably and my cadence as well. I got close to her ear, but stayed comfortably away from it. The inquiry would come with steely authority. "Alexis, do you masturbate?"
She knew she was blessed if she did and blessed if she didn't. Either answer and she was going to be spanked.
So she told the truth. "Yes."
"What kinds of things do you imagine when putting your hand inside your panties?"
And ladies and gentleman, we'd arrived at the $64,000 question (actually Alexis is a rather cheap date).
After a couple of breaths, uncertainty all over the room, she was heard to say "I like to imagine I'm . . . ."
Sorry guys, but don't want to ruin the fun for you. Alexis didn't swear me to secrecy on this, but I think you'll enjoy finding out for yourselves what she said!
Anyway, I get her talking about it a bit and move my hand in and out of her increasingly sopping pussy as I augment her fantasies with some suggestions of my own. Before long, Alexis May orgasms on my hand.
So we drink a little. Back in bed I start playing with her some more and inquire about her immediate career plans. She says she needs to wait about a month to get a work permit, but producers are already calling her and asking her come work for them in L.A. I like a career-minded lady, especially one in this line of work, so I keep two fingers inside her as I start cooing, "Alexis, you are going to be a sensation. On box cover, magazine covers, you're going to be everywhere."
She loves this and really is getting turned on by the suggestion so much that I almost fear another Black Dahlia in the making. But she's a smart cookie. Not jaded at all, I'm thrilled to report, but with clear goals in mind. A car, a house. And an endless procession of porn-driven orgasms.
I ask whether she's secretly hoping some rich guys swoops down from the Hollywood Hills and marries her. She twitches her nose most believably and says, "Not at all. I like being by myself." Clearly two ships were passing in the night.
I've now treated her to another orgasm, so I indulge my fantasies a little. I take some hot pictures of her and she gets on her knees and sucks my cock, with excellent POV eye contact. My big cock in her porno mouth looks and feels great. But she's not aggressive. She's not full of pornstar moves and spit and frenetic pacing and filthy talk. No, I'm seeing the real Alexis and I'm infinitely grateful for the opportunity.
I titfuck her and photograph it. I can't see my cock in between her spectacular hooters. Of course I can't. That would be like trying to locate a tootsie roll in the Grand Canyon. We reposition so that I don't feel so out-endowed.
But, alas, it's me. And when it comes time to fuck Alexis May, I grow soft inside my suffocating condom (still a magnum, but a struggle to pull on). We don't fuck. I am ever-so-slightly despondent, but shouldn't be, considering all that has gone so very right tonight.
I suggest we go to sleep and I put my arm behind Alexis, who doesn't exactly snuggle up next to me. So I tire of the position and we're soon asleep.
I dream of her, so intensely that I wake up three hours later. Do you have any idea how ecstatic the one who is known as me felt when I opened my eyes and there was Alexis May, the woman I'd just been dreaming about, sleeping on her side and facing me?
Alexis is still fully nude and her tits are compressed against each other like nothing I've ever seen nor am likely to again. Since I've just awoken from an Alexis dream, I'm rock hard, but respectful of her sleep. So I figure, a little innocent aureola fucking couldn't do any harm.
Content with orbiting her globes with my ball-istic missile, I turn over and sleep wonderfully well.
The morning is leisurely. More pictures, these a little more Playboy-like in the early light. Alexis then gets lit in her mouth and her pussy and I snap away as she simultaneously smokes two cigarettes in her hot box and mouth. I'm now really worked up and kneel on the bed over her. I whipping my cock into a frenzy and tell her to mover her head right underneath me. She does so with some hesitancy, as she has already showered and doesn't want it in her hair. I don't relent and soon she's right below my thick pumping cock. I then coat Alexis May's face with gobs of goo. It lands all over. On her cheeks, her lips, her forehead, a glorious site.
Alexis lingered a while longer and then said goodbye and invited me to see her again. It's an invitation I could scarcely refuse.
