Meeting James - Cover

Meeting James

Copyright© 2020 by Melanieatplay

Chapter 1

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A college girl meets an older man in Las Vegas, and spend their first day together.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   True Story   BDSM   Light Bond   Rough   Spanking   Polygamy/Polyamory   White Male   White Female   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie  

My friend and I pulled up at the valet parking in front of the Paris hotel in Las Vegas. It was a warm spring evening, and the sun had just begun to set behind the mountains. The air smelled fresh and clean, an anomaly for the strip. I smiled to myself when I noticed the valet sneaking a peek at my legs as I extended them and stepped out of Sue’s car. Maybe this would be a good night after all.

She smiled radiantly at me as I watched her walk around her car, her high heels clicking on the ceramic pavers as she joined me.

“Don’t worry,” she said, adjusting her short red halter cocktail dress, “I promise you’ll have a good time tonight.”

I forced the best smile I could, all the while thinking that I should be back at my apartment finishing my finance paper or, at the very least, studying for midterm exams, which were next week. Instead of using the weekend to focus on academics, I had instead chosen to max out my credit cards on a sleeveless black lace cocktail dress and black Prada pumps because I didn’t have any formal clothes that I could wear to an event like this. I dreaded the thought of calling my parents again and asking for the money that this evening was costing me. Even though the dress was a little short due to my 5’8” height, the black was the perfect contrast to my long blonde hair.

Hell, this dress is worth every penny.

For the better part of a year, Sue had been trying to convince me to accompany her to these black-tie charity fundraisers held twice a year at the Paris. It always surprised me that she got invitations through her work because these events were fairly exclusive. I had spent the last several months listening to her rave about the last one she had attended, and she finally wore me down, and I agreed to go with her.

Sue grabbed my hand and pulled me into the casino, temporarily putting my academic concerns and financial woes out of my mind. While walking through the main casino floor, I was immediately mesmerized by the myriad of flashing lights and the sounds of the slot machines. I could feel the energy in the room as the various gamblers tried their luck at the blackjack and craps tables.

Tonight seemed different, though; maybe it was just me, but was everyone looking at us as we walked through the room? The hungry eyes on us reminded me of how much I loved dressing up and showing off a bit.

We arrived at the door, and Sue gave her invitation to the doorman, and we walked into the vast ballroom. I was shocked to see a full orchestra playing a catchy tune from the ... I don’t know... 1950s maybe? I had always loved jazz music, so maybe this evening wouldn’t be too bad after all. If nothing else, it was going to be different from the dance clubs on the strip that I usually frequented.

“Get some drinks, and I’ll find a table,” Sue said.

Walking to the bar, I admired the extravagantly decorated room, and I couldn’t help but think that someone really went all out. Crystal chandeliers, crown molding, enormous flower arrangements on every table, beautiful silver flatware, and opulent white linen tablecloths. I started to feel a bit underdressed for the occasion.

“Two Hypnotiqs, please,” I said, smiling sweetly at the bartender.

He instantly turned around and began pouring the drinks. I nonchalantly slid my fake ID back into my purse, relieved he didn’t question my age.

While waiting for the drinks, I scanned the room again, admiring the beautiful dresses that some of the women were wearing. I noticed that more of the older women had chosen longer, more formal evening gowns, while women my age had opted for shorter cocktail dresses. I figured it must be a generational thing. However, I loved how their more formal attire added to the feeling of exclusivity of the event. It was fun to pretend I was royalty or maybe a Hollywood starlet, if only for the evening.

I was suddenly snapped out of my daze by a short, chubby, balding man who seemed to almost miraculously appear in front of me.

“I’m not Fred Flintstone, but I can make your bed rock!” he exclaimed proudly.

My jaw dropped. Did he really just say that? I wasn’t sure if I was more embarrassed for myself or for him. I tried to move my lips to form some sort of retort, but no words came out.

He broke my stunned silence by saying, “Do you work for UPS? I could have sworn I saw you checking out my package.”

I could feel myself going from shocked to embarrassed, and then to angry.

I started to say something clever like, “Did you come here with friends, or are you the only thirty-five-year-old virgin here tonight?” when I felt a hand rest on the small of my back.

I turned and looked into the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen.

“Are our drinks ready yet, honey?” he asked smoothly, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek.

My knees instantly went weak. I barely noticed Mr. Cheesy-Pick-Up-Line’s look of disappointment as he skulked away.

My deliverer looked perplexed by my choice of cocktails as he slid his credit card to the bartender.

“It’s Hypnotiq,” I replied, answering his unasked question, “and thank you,” I added.

He smiled softly at me. “You looked like you could use the help.”

I returned his smile, peering again into those deep blue eyes. The mix of gray and black hair gave his age away. Maybe 50, I thought to myself. He was wearing a black designer suit that fit him impeccably. He was tall, I guessed six-foot-three, just a bit taller than I was in these heels.

He had a ruggedly handsome face that seemed to encompass a ‘boyish good looks’ quality. Maybe at one time, perhaps in his youth, the title of pretty boy would have fit him perfectly, but the years had turned his boyishly handsome face into the look of a distinguished older man.

“I’m James,” he said as the bartender slid his credit card back to him, “and my fee for one rescue is a dance.”

I smiled warmly at him and took his extended hand. He led me to the dance floor, and almost effortlessly, I found myself securely in his arms.

For the first time in my life, I was happy that my parents had forced me to take ballroom dance lessons during my junior year of high school, a month before my oldest brother’s wedding. In the clubs that I frequented, the dancing was more of a bump-and-grind, pre-mating ritual, but this was formal and elegant, and he danced magnificently.

I told him that my name was Melanie and I was a sophomore at UNLV working toward my accounting degree. We discovered that we were from the same part of Southern California.

I also told him that I had moved to Las Vegas to go to college and get away from my parents (a much longer and messier story), and he told me he was in town checking up on his businesses. As we learned more about each other, he told me that he owned about thirty restaurants in the Los Angeles and Las Vegas areas and he was in town frequently to “put out fires,” as he described it.

When the orchestra ended the song, he asked me back to his table so we could finish our drinks. I knew I should decline, but he intrigued me. I was struggling to put my finger on the reason, but I couldn’t. I felt drawn to him and didn’t know why.

Seeing that Sue was deep in conversation with a handsome man who appeared to be about our age, I accepted his offer.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked in front of him to his table, and for the first time since we had arrived, I felt self-conscious. I was used to wearing revealing club attire, short, low-cut dresses, and skirts that showed acres of skin and put a lot on display. However, in this haughty environment, my little black dress definitely had me out of my comfort zone, especially when the older women had chosen more formal eveningwear. Regardless, I didn’t want to appear uncomfortable, especially to him.

When we got to his table, he smiled and told me not to go anywhere. I watched him walk across the room toward the bar to get fresh drinks. He moved effortlessly, confidently, like he owned the room.

We spent the next several hours talking, dancing, and drinking. I loved his business background, and all the theories I was learning in my classes he was putting into practice in his restaurants. We talked about management concepts, marketing schemes, and tax dodges. Not exactly topics reminiscent of sexual foreplay, but I found him enthralling. He seemed to know a little about everything, and he talked to me like an adult, something that very few people in my nineteen years had done. Being around him was intoxicating, and I stopped listening to that little voice that had told me to be careful.

It was a little past midnight. About an hour earlier, Sue had grudgingly gone home. I had reassured her repeatedly that I was all right, and she knew I could take care of myself. James made me feel comfortable and at ease. In truth, I just didn’t want this perfect evening to end.

The dance floor was packed, the drinks continued to flow, and I felt wired. The drinking and dancing were having an effect on me. I wasn’t sure what got my heart racing faster, his hand on my thigh as we talked or the scent of his cologne as we danced. I was mesmerized by him, and when he asked me to join him in his suite, I just couldn’t find a way to tell him no.

While we rode up the elevator to the top floor of the Paris, I thought I was going to lose my balance because of my knees knocking together. Exhilaration and trepidation, those were the two main themes of the evening.

I had never done this type of thing before, not with a man anyway. Jump into bed with a guy after only knowing him for a couple of hours? That wasn’t me. When I chose to be intimate with a guy, he was always my boyfriend, and I made him work for it. He had to take me out and buy me dinner a few times. This just wasn’t me. And what about his age? God, I can’t even start to think about that. But it’s happening...


He used his key card to unlock the door to his suite. Holding it open for me, I stepped inside. The great room was large and expansive, appearing to be bigger than the entire apartment I shared with my roommate. The suite was elegantly appointed in a Parisian theme, with the Eiffel Tower and the millions of lights on the Las Vegas strip illuminating the room. While I enjoyed the stunning view outside our window, I felt him move behind me.

Turning to face him, his lips instantly fused with mine. We kissed passionately as we stumbled further into the suite, not breaking apart until we were beside the enormous king-size bed in the master bedroom. While we continued to kiss, I felt his fingers move down my stomach while his other hand unzipped my dress.

Flushed with a combination of his hands exploring my body and the alcohol I had consumed earlier, I felt my dress cling tightly even after he had unzipped it. He continued to kiss my neck roughly as he slid the dress down and off of me. Shivers went through my body as he kissed my shoulders while simultaneously unclasping and removing my bra, exposing my breasts.

James immediately attached his mouth to one of my hard pink nipples and started gently biting and sucking before licking around that breast and moving to the other one. I threw my head back and moaned and gasped as he worked my nipples, massaging one while busily lapping at the other.

While he continued to play with my breasts, I began to unbutton his shirt. He stopped his ministrations to my nipples so I could get rid of his unwanted article of clothing. Once I had his shirt on the floor, I moved to his pants, tugging at his belt buckle and zipper. Before I knew it, I added James’s pants and boxers to the growing pile of clothes on the floor between us.

He broke our passionate kiss, and we paused for a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Then, caught up in the hedonistic moment, I got down on my knees in front of him.

Pausing for a few seconds to marvel at his cock, which I had to admit was a magnificent specimen, I scooted just a bit closer to take it into my mouth. Gently gripping the shaft, I ran my tongue over the large purple head, tasting the pre-cum that had formed on the slit. I licked up and down his shaft several times, coating his cock with my saliva.

Looking up, I saw James’s eyes were closed, and low groans were escaping his mouth. Smiling, I took the head into my mouth and started sucking on it, moving it slowly in and out, teasing him. He continued to groan and writhe as I took more of him into my mouth until I had most of him in my throat. Looking up again, his eyes rolled back as I started to move my head faster. I was able to relax my throat, allowing me to take him all the way down to the root.

After several minutes, he was grunting loudly and began to thrust himself in and out of my mouth. At that point, I remained motionless, allowing him to control the pace. I kept my lips sealed tight around his cock while his hips continued to thrust back and forth rapidly. I could taste his pre-cum in my mouth, which aroused me even more.

Feeling his body start to tense and his breathing change, I thought he was going to come in my mouth until he took a step back, causing his cock to slip from between my lips. Watching as he took a few deep breaths and regained control of himself, postponing his impending orgasm.

I looked up, our eyes momentarily meeting, and we exchanged a brief smile. Wordlessly, he helped me up off my knees and then playfully pushed me back onto the bed. In an instant, he was on top of me, kissing me passionately, and I felt his hard cock press against the inside of my thigh. He trailed kisses down my body until he reached my thong, which was now soaked completely through. I felt him slip his fingers under the material and slide it to the side, over the thin strip of light brown pubic hair above my vagina. I opened my legs wide, giving him better access, and watched as he lowered his eyes, looking hungrily at my pussy.

“My God, you’re so wet, Melanie,” he said as his eyes traveled over my body.

I felt my wetness seeping out of my vagina and running down the inside of my thighs. Giving blow jobs always got me hot, and tonight was no exception. He slid his fingers underneath the thin material of my thong and peeled it off.

Teasing me, he ignored my glistening pussy and kissed and licked my inner thigh. Then I felt his mouth travel to where he licked and gently bit the inside of my other thigh, inching closer to my pussy.

By this time, I was moaning and bucking my hips. I could no longer stand any more of his teasing, and I grabbed his face and moved him so his mouth was in line with my vulva. Apparently, that was all the prodding he needed; he immediately started sucking on my clit and running his tongue up and down my wet slit. Gasping, I looked down as he extended his tongue and pushed it deep inside me.

I felt him put his hands on my ass cheeks, which he massaged roughly while keeping his tongue buried in my wet sex. The intense pleasure he was giving me with his mouth made me feel like I was slipping in and out of consciousness, and I could hear the slurping sounds emanating from between my legs. My hips were bucking wildly as I ground my pussy roughly into his face. I shook and shuddered and experienced my first of what would end up being many orgasms of the evening.

He let me recover by licking the wetness from the inside of my thighs, and thankfully his mouth stayed away from my sensitive clit for a minute or so. Once he saw that I had recovered and my faculties had returned, he began to lick up and down my slit again. This time he put two fingers inside me and curled them upwards while working his tongue hard and fast over my clit. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire. I continued to appreciate his talented tongue as he drove me to two more orgasms before I pushed him away.

While I was coming down and trying to regain my senses, I watched him climb up over me and capture my lips with his. His face was shiny with my juices; as his tongue plunged into my mouth, I could taste my pussy during our very erotic kiss. While his tongue was exploring my mouth, I felt his thick erection press against the inside of my thigh, and I suddenly realized that he hadn’t come yet.

Continuing to kiss me, he took his shaft in his hand, and I felt him run the bulbous head up and down my lower lips and over my wet slit. He then positioned himself right above my opening, slipped the head inside, and then powerfully pushed forward, instantly opening and filling me. I pulled my mouth away from his, gasping and moaning in pleasure. Almost instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he started to slowly thrust in and out of me.

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