by Emme Rollins
“Go for it!” she said. I looked at her and she nodded towards the half-naked singer.
“Yeah?” I wondered.
“Why not? You’re hall of fame material if you can bed two lead singers in a week,” she observed. I rolled my eyes as he wandered up to the bar, cocky and full of himself. Tiff thrust her chest out and flashed her big smile but not at Opulent’s lead singer. She was reminding me what to do. I went over to him and made sure I leaned over almost far enough to let my breasts escape the bustier and smiled at him.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“How about a Jack and Coke, sweets,” he said. He had already been drinking, but that wasn’t unusual. Most of these guys drank a lot. I poured his drink and brought it to him. I took a deep breath and got ready to emulate Tiff and stroke this guy’s ego.
“I’m Darcy,” I told him.
“Quentin. Nice to meet you,” he said staring at my tits.
“You were fantastic tonight. Your music really speaks to me. It’s so exciting and the way you sing it makes me weak in the knees,” I said. That was probably overboard but what the hell.
“Yeah? Thanks,” he replied even more puffed up now.
“I’d love to show you how much I loved it,” I said. Quentin looked me up and down.
“Is that so? What did you have in mind?” he asked obviously interested. This was easy. I guess I always knew that as a female of the species getting laid wasn’t a problem, even you were plus sized. However, I’d never really tried this aggressively.
“Why don’t we get out of here and I’ll show you,” I replied.
“I’m all over that,” he said. I turned to look at Tiff and she gave me a big thumbs up. She could handle things. Hell, I’d done it enough times for her. Quentin joined me at the side of the bar as I opened the hinged section and we headed for the door. Maybe Tiff knew what she was talking about. Quentin was sexy as hell and a rock star, sort of. It was easy and he couldn’t take his eyes off me. I had a feeling Gage was going to be history.
>>O<<
Twenty minutes later, Quentin wiggled from under me. I’d barely sucked his cock for two minutes. He was hung and hard as iron. I wanted him inside me but I could take a little more time. He apparently couldn’t. He climbed behind me and grabbed my hips. Without a word, he pulled me to him and slammed his cock into me. I was aroused but still. Whatever. I guess I could deal with it. If he wanted to fuck me all night instead of messing around first, that was fine by me.
“Oh yeah, Darcy. Your ass is so fucking big. Shit!” Quentin said as he thrust away like a horny rabbit. I tried to get into it and his fat shaft was beginning to do the trick. I’d prefer it if he slowed down a little but this would work, eventually. I couldn’t help compare this to Gage and it wasn’t much of a comparison. This wasn’t the same but I wasn’t giving up on Quentin just yet.
“Slow down, baby. Enjoy it. You’re cock feels so good. I want to come all over that big thing,” I said hoping to get Quentin to ease up just a little.
“Oh fuck! Oh Fuck! OH FUCK!” Quentin shouted as he pulled out of me and blew his load all over my back. I looked back as he jerked his cock. Really? Was he kidding? “Fuck, Darcy! That was some good shit. Wow!” he said as he wiped his cock on my ass and then pulled up his briefs. He crawled next to me, kissed me and thanked me. Then he left.
What the fuck? I was still on my hands and knees. I’d been home for like ten minutes. I hadn’t even had an orgasm. I wasn’t really even close. To top it all off, my back was covered in his orgasm. What a fucking jerk! If this was what Tiff was into, count me out. I thought I felt used when I woke up alone in Gage’s apartment. This was ridiculous. I wasn’t hurt as much as I was angry.
“Thanks for nothing,” I shouted but Quentin was already long gone. I climbed off the bed and scurried to the shower before this guy’s mess started dripping all over my floor. I wasn’t even horny anymore and now I felt even worse than I did before. This whole night just made the previous weekend seem better and worse all at the same time. I’d get over Quentin. He was a jerk.
But after that performance, if you could call it that, the way Gage treated me, the things he did and the way he made me feel seemed even more satisfying. However, finding Gage gone the next morning felt even more demeaning. The sex, the bondage, even being left on the day bed while the room service waiter delivered our food didn’t feel demeaning. No, that was all fun and exciting. It was waking up alone that made me feel so bad. He didn’t even say goodbye.
So much for banishing Gage from my mind. I not only felt worse about our tryst, I wanted him even more. That wasn’t my plan. I was hoping for a guy just like Gage, maybe better, to supplant him. Now Gage loomed even larger in my memory. The guy that got away. The guy that made me feel better than I ever had before. Not just physically but about myself as a whole. He made me feel pretty and sexy and it was apparently all a lie.
>>O<<
“I’m sorry,” Tiff offered after I told her. I called her and we met for lunch the next day. I couldn’t spend my day off home alone again letting my thoughts run away with me.
“Is that what it’s like?” I wondered. Did Tiff enjoy the slam, bam, thank you ma’am?
“No and yes. Sometimes I get a dud. Too often, really. It’s the good ones that make it worth it. I know I’m kind of a slut. I don’t care. I like sex and I like men. So sue me. But when I find a guy that treats me right, gets me off and takes his time...heaven. Until I find the one, Mr. Right, Prince Charming, whatever, I’m going to have some fun. When I get a dud, like you did, well that’s what vibrators are for,” Tiff told me. That made me laugh.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for that. I found my good one and he left. As if Mr. Speedy wasn’t bad enough, I was so angry about it I wasn’t even horny anymore,” I told Tiff. She cringed.
“That sucks. I’m sorry,” she told me again.
“It’s not your fault,” I told her.
“I know. I’m just sorry. Sorry Gage left, sorry that Quentin dude was a flop and sorry you didn’t get off,” she said. I laughed again.
“We should go shopping. It looks like I’m going to need a quality sex toy,” I told her. Tiff giggled. We did, in fact, go find a sex shop and we each bought a high end vibrator. Afterwards, we went to my house to hang out. On the way, we picked up some margarita mix. After we’d whipped up a couple of frozen drinks, we put a chick flick in my DVD player and sprawled out on my sofa to watch it and get messed up. We’d barely begun the movie when someone knocked on my door. I paused the movie but Tiff urged me to just ignore it.
“No, it might be important,” I told her. I’m glad I did. I opened the door and man in a black suit stood there.
“Darcy Miller?” he asked.
“Yeah, am I in trouble?” I replied. He looked like every government agent I’d ever seen. In the movies anyway.
“No, I have a message for you,” he said and handed me an envelope. Tiff wandered over to see what was up.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m just the messenger, miss,” the man indicated.
“Well, open it,” Tiff urged. I did and pulled out a postcard from Las Vegas. I looked at Tiff and she shrugged. I flipped it over and there was a hand written note:
Last week was fantastic. Pack some stuff and follow the stiff in the black suit. Please come see me, Darc.
Miss you,
Gage Tucker
“Oh my God!” Tiff said. I read it again. This was a joke. It had to be.
“Who sent you?” I asked the stiff in the black suit.
“My boss handed me this note and told me to take you to the airport. I’ve got a number to call once we get there. That’s all I know but I was told I’m not to leave without you,” he said. I looked at Tiffany.
“Did you do this?” I asked.
“Yeah, I hired this dude to deliver the note. I figured you didn’t feel bad enough so I’d tease you a little. Don’t be a schmuck, Darcy. It’
s from Gage,” she said sarcastically. I looked at her skeptically.
“You think?” I wondered. Tiff rolled her eyes and then looked at the man standing outside my apartment.
“Sorry, my friend’s a little slow,” she said and then looked at me, “Go pack!”
“But where am I going? What about work?” I asked her. Tiff ripped the postcard out of my hand and turned it around and stuck it in my face.
“Las Vegas, maybe,” she told me like I was stupid. Maybe I was. I pushed the card away.
“And work?” I asked her.
“Jesus, I’ll cover for you. Go pack. Gage wants to see you. Stop being the scared little fat girl and go get your man,” Tiff said sternly. I wasn’t scared, well maybe a little, but more than anything I was sort of angry. He leaves me all alone in the big hotel room and now he just summons me to come see him? Weren’t there fat girls in Vegas he could coax into bed?
“I’m not going to Las Vegas. I’m not scared, I’m pissed. He just takes off and now I’m supposed to go whenever he demands? I don’t think so,” I told Tiff stubbornly. She looked absolutely exasperated.
“So what? You had fun, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah, I suppose. Up until I woke up alone like some whore. No, I’m not going! If Gage wants to apologize, he can come here himself,” I stated. The driver stood outside my apartment dutifully waiting, watching us like he was watching a tennis match.
“Can you give us a minute?” Tiff asked guy. He nodded.
“I’ll go have a smoke. I’ll be out by the limo. I have orders not to leave without her,” he said. Great! What was he going to do, carry me away kicking and screaming? Tiff closed my door and pulled me over to the sofa.
“Look, I know where you’re coming from. I do. But you’re being stubborn. Gage Tucker, lead singer of Dark Fire Love, the guy you’ve been crushing on wants you to come see him and you’re refusing because he didn’t kiss you goodbye last week. Does not compute, Darcy,” Tiff said summing it all up nicely.
“Yep. Maybe I’m being stubborn but he made me feel like a...like I was just a...he made me feel like I was easy. He made me feel like I was desperate. We both know he picked me because I’m big. He knew I’d be thoroughly star struck and do whatever he wanted, no matter how demeaning and twisted,” I argued. That was it. Gage made me feel desperate. The worst part, I probably was.
“You’re rewriting history. Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I love it when a guy takes charge. I’ve been tied up and teased and I love it. You did too but now you’re acting as if you did it against your will. Darcy, don’t go all self-destructive on me. You want Gage and maybe he wants you. Even if he doesn’t, go to Vegas on his dime, have a great time and come back with that freshly fucked glow on your face,” Tiff said plainly. She was right, damn her. I was getting hung up on the one bad part of the experience and letting it rot the whole memory.
“I don’t know, Tiff. What if I get hurt?” I asked.
“Maybe you will. But if you don’t try how will you ever know? Look, go to Vegas without any expectations. If you want, give him a piece of your mind and tell him what you told me. As long as you have a ticket home, who cares? Hell, even if you don’t I’ll come get you. It’s not that far. It’s an adventure, Darcy. Don’t spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened. Go find out,” Tiff said. I hated it when she made sense. Why couldn’t she just let me feel sorry for myself?
“Yeah? You think?” I asked hoping for yet more reassurance. Tiff was being patient with me. More patient than I probably deserved.
“I love you, girl. You’re my best friend. I want you to be happy. I wouldn’t send you with that stiff in the black suit if I didn’t think it was the best thing to do. I’d do it. Hell, I’d do it in a hot second to get tied up and fucked silly by Gage Tucker. I’d participate in a lesbian orgy so he could watch and let him fuck me with baseball bat if he wanted. It’s Gage-Fucking-Tucker, Darcy! Go get him,” Tiff said telling me exactly what I needed to hear and making me laugh too. I was still upset the way he just took off without a word but he wanted to see me. Maybe he did really like me. But if he didn’t, I’d probably get another wild night with a rock star. A real rock star.
“All right, I’ll go. I wish you could come with me,” I told Tiff.
“Oh, girl. If Gage ever wants a threesome you’d better pick me but this one is all you. C’mon, I’ll help you pack. You’ve got a bikini, right?” Tiff said making me laugh again. A bikini? Um, no!
“I’m not wearing a bikini,” I said. Tiff turned and glared at me as we walked to my bedroom. I wasn’t going to make here scold me again. “OK, fine. I’ll bring a bikini,” I said and her eyes narrowed further and she sneered at me. “Fine, I’ll wear the bikini,” I finally said.
“There you go. Flaunt what you’ve got, Darcy. Stop laboring under the idea that just because you’re big it means you’re ugly and undesirable. You’re not.” Tiff said.
“I’ll try to remember that,” I replied. We quickly packed, mostly tight jeans and skirts, high heels, low-cut tops, a couple of sexy dresses and, of course, the bikini. As Tiff sat on my suitcase to get it closed, I slipped into undies, black leggings, a red blouse and matching flats. Once I was dressed, Tiff walked me out to the limo and hugged me before I got inside. The driver took my bag and put it in the trunk.
“If you’re wrong, I’m going to kick your skinny ass, Tiffany,” I said as I climbed in.
“I love you to. Go get him, Darcy,” Tiff said and the driver closed the door. The ride to the airport was strange all alone in the rear of the limo all alone. The driver didn’t seem all that chatty. At the airport, an agent met us at the curb. She had my ticket, roundtrip thankfully and first class to boot, and explained another driver would be waiting at the Las Vegas airport. I thanked her and she took my bag and assured me it would arrive safely at my hotel. It was all arranged.
I admit I liked being taken care of but it was weird. I was a coach class, carry-on bag, sub-compact rental car kind of girl. This was all foreign but whatever. If Gage was trying to apologize or just butter me up for another night of crazy sex, I figured I might as well enjoy it. The flight was short, just over an hour, but I still managed to suck down a couple those little bottles of Jack Daniels mixed with Coke, partly to calm my nerves and partly because I wasn’t paying for them.
As the agent in Reno promised, another driver met me as I exited the gates. He seemed to know me before I even saw him. “Darcy, nice to meet you,” he said picking me out of the throngs coming off the escalators into the baggage claim and transportation area.
“Uh, hi. How did you know it was me?” I wondered.
“Well, you were looking right at the sign with your name on it and Mr. Tucker provided an accurate description,” the tall, older black man informed me. Like the driver in Reno, this guy was dressed all in black. I guess FBI agents and limo drivers all shopped at the same place.
“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” I replied.
“You ready?” he asked me.
“Yeah, I guess,” I told him.
“Follow me,” he replied. We made our way through baggage claim area, down an escalator and down to a parking lot filled with limos, shuttles and busses. The driver led to me a long black limousine, opened my door and helped me in before climbing into the front seat. I rode alone in the back of the big expansive limo but this driver was friendlier than the last. He lowered the privacy glass and introduced himself, “I’m Frank. So, are you a friend of Mr. Tucker’s?”
“Uh...I guess,” I answered. Frank cocked an eyebrow as he looked at me in the rearview mirror.
“You don’t know?” he wondered.
“Well, I met him last weekend and we...uh...,” I began to say but stalled not sure what I would even call what we did, at least in polite company.
“Say no more, Darcy. I work in Vegas, after all. Look, I don’t want to pry. I drive for Mr. Tucker when he’s in Vegas and he and the band are her
e a lot. He doesn’t fly girls in often, never that I’m aware of. It’s not as if Vegas isn’t full of eager, young girls. You must have made an impression,” Frank explained.
“Thanks. I’m not sure why he invited me here. We spent one night together and I haven’t spoken to him since. I just not sure what to think,” I replied. We stopped at a red light and Frank turned around to look at me.
“You didn’t ask but I’ve got a daughter about your age and you seem like you need some advice. Mr. Tucker is a lot of things but he’s always been honest and fair with me. I’ve never heard a bad word spoken about him. He’s a young man, and I’m sure you know what that means, but he’s not a bad person. He’s wild, he’s a womanizer and he’s a rock star, but he’s a good man,” Frank said.
“Thank you, Frank. You’re very sweet,” I told him as we pulled onto Las Vegas Boulevard. After that, Frank gave me the grand tour, describing the hotels and attractions and revealing details and trivia, he assured me, that only he and few other old-timers knew. The sun had gone down but it wasn’t quite dark yet. Even so, the Strip glittered. He kept me entertained until we pulled into The Grande Italia, one of the newer and swanker hotels in Vegas, if not the world.
Frank ushered me inside but we didn’t go towards the check-in counter. We went to the concierge desk instead. Frank told the older man there who I was and he greeted me with a big smile and a bow. “Ms. Miller, we’ve been expecting you,” he said. Frank left me with the concierge and I thanked him before he left. He smiled and wished me well.
“Sorry, I’m kind of new at this,” I told the concierge.
“I’m Jonathan. I’m here to provide whatever you wish. Mr. Tucker requested I show you to your suite. May I?” Jonathan informed me.
“Yes, thanks,” I said. I felt like I was the rock star. We didn’t use the main elevators but a special VIP elevator that whisked us to the top of the hotel. The doors opened into a brightly lit hallway and Jonathan showed me to a room called the Empress Suite. He opened the double doors and beyond was a suite that made the one in Reno look like a room at a Motel 6.