“I’d hate for you to have to work that hard when I’m right here.” He rubs his very hard cock on my ass. Then he jumps from the table and runs to the bedroom. Meat jogs in and tears open a condom, hops onto the table and is inside me without a second thought. “Oh fuck, I thought about you all day.”
“Stop talking,” I grit my teeth as he’s pounding into me. I don’t want a repeat of New Orleans.
He reaches around and tweaks both of my nipples then grabs them and sort of uses them as handles. He’s driving in and out without ceremony, and I’m hoping not to fall off this table. Then he lowers a hand to my clit and touches me. Immediately my gut coils tight. Tighter, tighter the coils turn in my belly. Then Meat bites my shoulder gently and slaps my ass. I’m done and groaning his name, but it’s not his name. I’m calling out “Meat.” I haven’t called him that to his face yet, have I? He doesn’t seem to mind and comes quickly.
“Shit,” he breathes.
“Best massage ever,” I moan. I’m still on my hands and knees. About to fall off the table, but then his tongue finds my sensitive spot and my hands slip from under me. He pulls me to the end of the table and gives me another reason to scream. Best one night stand ever.
A knock sounds on my door and I roll over to see what time it is. “Meat,” I groan. Instead of the one syllable it is, I draw into three.
“I just ordered coffee.”
“This is getting to be a habit.” I drape my arm over my eyes.
He jumps out of bed and walks to the door as he pulls on his pants. They are loose and allow me to see his ass, even clothed. He doesn’t bother zipping them.
The server hands Meat the tray and he puts it on the bar.
“How do you like your coffee Sunshine?”
This starts a conversation I’m not even going to bother telling you guys about. I don’t want anyone telling me what to put in my coffee, it annoys the fuck out of me. Clearly me using “chemicals” to sweeten my coffee really annoys Meat. We retreat to our corners, mine is the bathroom, with my coffee with natural sweetener. He drinks his black by the way.
I’m drying my hair when he walks in, still wearing the pants that allow you to see everything.
“Do you have underwear on?”
“No,” he answers.
I reach in his pants and stroke his dick, it hardens immediately. “Just checking.” I smirk and then walk into the den and turn on the TV. “I don’t even know what day it is,” I say to myself.
“So what are you and Laura doing in Vegas?” He’s standing, looking out the window. “This is a really nice room.”
“Just a stop on a trip to California.”
“Business or pleasure.”
I chuckle. “It’s been pleasure so far.”
“Good to know. I have a car picking us up in ten minutes to take us to the shoot. You still cool with going?”
“Sure,” I answer. I take a sip of coffee. I’m fucking my way through it.
Chapter Forty-Four
Total Bun
After the shoot, Meat goes back to his hotel to grab some clothes and to have a quick meeting with Trixie, and I’m sitting on the couch with Laura. Yes, we’re drinking.
“I will never see a hot dog bun the same,” I say through giggles.
“Tell me again,” she says. “Tell me again.” She’s laughing so hard now she’s crying.
“So we get to some photographer’s house, and I’m looking around like what the fuck are we doing here.” I wipe tears from my eyes. “Meat is just sauntering around talking to all the women huddled about. Then he takes his shirt off. They do a few pictures like this. Then he motions me to follow him into a back bedroom and he starts doing pushups. When I ask him what he’s doing he says he wants to look good for the pictures. Then he pulls off his pants and changes into these lime green...boy shorts?”
Laura snorts.
“Like they were my size.”
“I mean, is that sexy?” Laura runs commentary. This is the third time I’ve told this story in the last thirty minutes, the first time it took me longer to get through because I had to pee in the middle.
“Not really,” I answer honestly and wipe tears.
“Then what?” Laura goads.
“He pulls out a six pack of hot dog buns. He pulls the bun apart and arranges it around his dick.” I roll off the couch and laugh so hard I can’t see. I’d held it together while I was there. I really did. Meat kissed my cheek and then went out to get pictures taken with his dick covered in a hot dog bun. I stood in the room with my shoulders shaking silently, laughing hysterically. After I got it out, I walked to where they were shooting and watched the photo shoot. “He had to switch out buns several times, and I barely kept my shit together.”
“I don’t know how you did that. That’s the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.”
I enter Meat’s name into a search engine and we start scrolling. There are pictures of him in a suit.
“No bun necessary,” Laura says pointing to a picture.
“Total bun.” I chortle, pointing to a picture of him in tighty whities. “I mean his penis is of the bigger variety, but it does not look like that unless it’s hard.”
“It’s like the pushup bra for dicks.”
“Could you fucking imagine sticking your hand down a dude’s pants and being like what is that caked to your dick? Don’t worry baby it’s just my hot dog bun.”
“Liars.”
“Cock exaggerators.”
“Dick expanders.”
“Oral illusions.”
We are both rolling on the floor now laughing, snorting, and crying.
“I told you,” Laura grunts through her laughter.
“I know.”
“Fucking your way through it.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Running Bitch
Laura and I are making an attempt at running the last morning we are going to be in Vegas. It is 7:00 am Vegas time, but it’s already sweltering outside. My entire gray tank top is soaked through with sweat and we’ve only run a mile. That’s ten minutes of running if you really have to know.
We’re headed down the strip and all of a sudden I hear yelling. Looking over our shoulders, Laura and I both pull out an ear bud at the same time.
“Hey! Hey!” We turn to see a woman who looks like a drunk hooker stumbling toward us. “You guys are BITCHES!”
I look at Laura. Is she talking to us? I ask with my eyes.
She shrugs and turns away.
“HEY BITCH!” she yells at Laura this time.
“Are you actually talking to me?” Laura asks, letting her New York attitude show.
“It’s Amy,” the woman says.
Laura and I look at each other.
“This...this is why you’re a bitch.”
“Look Amy…”
“FUCK you. You running bitch.” Then she starts a jumble of cuss words about how fucking stupid we are for running. I have to tell you, I think I agree with drunk hooker Amy.
At this point Laura and I turn and run away from the woman in the tightest white dress I’ve even seen. It has stains on it from the night before, and her heels have seen better days.
As we run, when I say run it’s really a jog, I start laughing.
Laura pulls her ear bud out again and looks at me.
“This is why you’re a bitch,” I say, huffing and puffing. “I totally agree with Amy.”
We end up walking back to The Wynn and the valet. A woman with platinum blonde hair crawling down her back, sky high heels and the tiniest dress I’ve ever seen, smiles at us as we pass her. She gets into a Porsche SUV and chats with the valet.
The valet closes her door and falls into step behind us.
“I got Amy off,” the valet says into the radio.
I cannot contain my laughter because I’m a thirteen year old boy. Laura and I duck into the door.
“Holy shit, I want to be a prostitute in Vegas. I’d have a Porsche.”
&
nbsp; “There are a lot of hookers named Amy here…” I say. “At least he got her off,” I barely spit out before laughing again.
“You’re stupid.” Laura laughs too. “See you at the pool running bitch.”
Chapter Forty-Six
I Love (Sigh) Ice Cream
I taste the saltiness mixed with the sting of the horseradish as the ice cold oyster slides down my throat. I sigh in utter content. Laura was right, this week soothed my broken heart and revitalized me in a way I didn’t think having sex with a stranger could. To be honest, I really like Meat. He’s genuinely a pretty interesting, cool person when he puts the douche in his pocket where it belongs.
“What do you guys want to do after dinner?” Duncan asks as he douses his own oyster with hot sauce.
Laura shrugs and watches the laser light show out the window. “This really is ‘Disney World’ for adults.”
I nod as I run my hand down Meat’s inner thigh. Initially, he didn’t like the nickname. I accidentally moaned “Meat” during sex and he didn’t really think it was funny. However, he’s come around, which shows he has a sense of humor. I feel his dick get hard through his pants.
“Watch out Sunshine, you keep doing that and we won’t get to eat this amazing meal,” he whispers in my hair. “I’m pretty sure Megan and I are going to call it an early night. I want ice cream…” he announces.
“Oh, how about you Laura? What do you want to do?” Duncan asks Laura.
“Let’s go shopping and then gambling?”
“Shouldn’t you gamble and then shop?” I ask.
“Yes, I want to win so I can buy a new handbag. There is a bag at the Chanel store I’m jonesing for.”
“Good luck with that,” I mutter.
“You don’t gamble Megan?” Meat asks.
I shake my head and Laura calls me a dumbass with her face. I tell her not to call me that with my face.
“Not really. I mean every once in a while. I lost $20 dollars on the slots and that was enough for me.” Not to mention I won the lottery.
The server comes and places my filet mignon in front of me. Then puts a Porterhouse for two in front of Meat along with mac and cheese, Brussels sprouts, and mushrooms he begrudgingly agreed to share with me.
“You must be starving,” Laura comments, pointing at the massive amount of food in front of us.
“Pretty much. I haven’t eaten anything I really wanted in a month.”
“You do that before every event?” I ask, cutting my steak.
“Yes,” Duncan answers for them both.
“You mean you don’t like egg white omelets with no cheese.”
“They aren’t really omelets without cheese,” Laura comments then puts a bite of chicken in her mouth.
“See,” I say to Meat. He’s not paying attention though because he is tearing into his steak and it’s sort of disgusting. I cover my mouth with my hand trying not to laugh.
When there has been quiet for too long, he finally looks up. All of us are staring at him.
“What?”
“It’s taking you two minutes to eat almost the entire steak for two people, dude. Calm down, no one is taking that shit from you.” Duncan laughs as he chastises Meat, but he has three plates in front of him as well.
He sits back and smiles. “I didn’t realize how fucking hungry I was. Steak is awesome.”
“Steak is awesome,” Laura agrees.
The rest of dinner is fun. We chat and chew the fat. The guys are both from Texas. They’ve been friends since high school and travel to different events for cover models, but also they train people, which is not a surprise at all.
When Meat mentions me lifting weights, I cut him off. “So here’s how this goes...we’re fucking, you don’t tell a woman you’re fucking to lift weights. It’s just rude.”
“Come on man,” Duncan agrees.
“I’m just saying, your body is pretty sick, but you could be like a fucking model if you just put some effort into it.” He continues to eat.
Now, let’s examine this statement. First, I could never be a model. I’m only five foot six inches. Second, my body is sick? That’s a compliment. Ladies, let’s take these fucking compliments because you know what, we don’t get them that often. I should put effort into my body...I need to ponder whether I’m bothered by this. Nope, not one bit. I’m never going to be a model so I guess I don’t have to put any effort into it.
Laura and Duncan are examining my face to see if I’m about to blow a gasket. “I believe I’d rather let you put effort into my body,” I respond.
He sort of grunts and then runs his hands under my short skirt in a teasing way. I trap his hand with my thunder thighs.
I’ve learned a few things from Meat this week. Sometimes people are just talking and saying things, it’s not a big deal, don’t over think it. He wouldn’t be fucking me if he found me unattractive, right? Right.
“Well, at least we ran here. In the gym mostly, it’s like a fucking sauna outside.”
Laura eats the last of her chicken. “So Duncan, when do you guys fly out?”
“We’re leaving at 7:00.”
“In the morning?” she asks.
He nods.
“It was the cheapest flight,” Meat comments.
“Damn, that’s early. We better go get ice cream,” I comment.
A panty dropping smile appears on Meat’s face. “I already got it covered.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
The server drops off the check and Meat grabs it.
“Wait,” I say. “I want to pay for it. As a thank you for the week.”
“I’m not a prostitute,” Meat says.
My eyes fly to Laura and Duncan whose eyes are huge.
“I wasn’t insinuating you were a prostitute,” I say softly to Meat.
“I just feel like you guys have been covering everything, and I basically moved into your room.”
Sometimes men need to feel like they are needed, like men, and we need to let them. I learned that from Meat too. I nod, even though I know this meal is probably $400. I smile at him and lean in. I inhale the complex mixture of tropical smell along with a smell I still haven’t figured out, but it makes me horny as hell. I graze my lips over his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Please do.”
Ice cream is cold, tongues are hot. I’m sticky and bad at poetry.
“Oh, GOD!” I moan and my back arches off the bed every time Meat drops a scoop of his favorite ice cream on some part of my body. It’s sensory overload and I’ve already come—several times. Now he’s just teasing me with lazy flicks of his tongue.
“This is so good. I’ve never eaten ice cream out of...well you know,” he says and then dives back in.
My bed is ruined with melted ice cream. Meat’s on the phone with hotel guest services. They are bringing up a change of sheets. Oops. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I step in and soap up. I’m humming because I’m happy. I can’t remember the last time I was just fucking happy.
Meat steps in and he has a ring of chocolate around his mouth like a two year old who just finished his favorite treat. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. “Are you humming Knocking Boots?” He looks down at me.
“Well, it’s Knocking Da Boots,” I correct, but really I’m floored he knows it.
“You…” He smiles, leans down and kisses my nose. “You are pretty extraordinary Megan. I wish…”
“Whatever, Meat. You just like me for my mad skills.” I gyrate my hips into him.
“That and everything else. You’re…” He starts, but doesn’t finish his sentence. “Let’s stay in touch. If I get to California, I’d like to lick some ice cream off you again.”
“That, I think, can be arranged.” I wash my hair and sigh when he brings his hands to mine and massages my scalp. “I think you may have ruined me,” I moan.
“I can continue to do that.”
I don’t open my eyes
.
“Megan really, we could try long distance.” His fingers make circles on my scalp, and it’s almost as good as the ice cream...no its not, but it’s still really nice.
“Meat, you don’t want that. We don’t really know each other. We had fun, let’s just leave it at that. If we did this longer, I’d be annoyed at all the women pawing at you and you’d hate me because I drink beer and eat chocolate and waffles.”
He steps to the side and lets me get under the showerhead so I can rinse my hair.
“You’re right, you don’t even lift weights.” He’s smiling as he continues to wash my breasts for me. It’s so considerate.
I smile at him. “Right. I don’t even lift weights.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Vagina Time Out
“Why are we staying here again?” I ask as I drive up the Silverado Trail toward Rutherford, California.
“Because it’s amazing, and I was able to book a two bedroom place called the Champagne Maison, which is French for home.”
“Okay,” I say. My phone buzzes and I give it to Laura to read for me.
“Hey Sunshine. I hope you got to Napa okay. I’m going to be tasting you for awhile. Ewwww. I don’t need to know about your sex shit.”
“I’m going to be tasting you for awhile? That could be good or bad. I mean, I taste onions and peppers for days and that’s not exactly pleasant.”
Laura laughs. “While that’s true, I think if he tasted you like a food poisoning he wouldn’t be texting you about it.”
What turns a woman into this, questioning every fucking statement? He texted me. Whatever.
“You said it ended well, right?”
“Yes, he had to get up early for his flight and he kissed me. Told me he wished things were different and left.”
“What do you mean he wished things were different?”
“I don’t know. I guess that we didn’t meet in Vegas while we were passing by each other with no plans to see each other again.”
“Wait...did he say that?” Laura pushes her sunglasses up on her head and is examining me.
“Sort of.” I shrug.
Sunshine & Whiskey Page 22
