The Bull (M-28, Nevada)

Being MMA fighter training in Las Vegas doesn’t pay the bills, so I work as a bartender at the airport.  “Sin City” has its fair share of temptations, but the airport attracts a surprising number of large, religious polygamist families, especially late evening flights.  My true fantasy begins with being able to fund my training without working long hours at the airport lounge, and here is how it can happen.

If he wasn’t their prophet or the supreme leader or what have you, he looked like any regular business traveler headed home after a tiresome tradeshow or conference.  And this man could drink, particularly whiskey sours with a dash of egg white, my special ingredient.  Loosening up, he begins to talk about my physique. I explain it’s the product of many years of eating right and hours at the gym.  He’s quick to point out good genetics play an important role.

 

After a forth drink, he has a proposition for me.  Over one long weekend a month, he asks me to visit his compound and stay as his guest.  For $2,500 cash, my job would be no different than a bull for hire at a ranch, to sleep with and inseminate the women in his church.  As he put it, fresh genes are needed to help grow his kingdom of God.  His fifth drink was on the house, while I pondered his offer.

“$3,000 to pay for gas and my travel time, and it’s a deal!”  I smile and wipe the bartop.

“Before each monthly visit, you will need an STD test emailed to me, along with meal requests for the weekend,” he pulls a business card from his wallet.

So here I am, arriving at the compound after a six hour drive through nothing but desert.  I’m shown to my room in what must be the leader’s private residence, his huge portrait hangs in the living room. A young man carries my duffle bag and unlocks the door, leaving the key in the lock.  In true Vegas fashion, I palm him a tip, but he declines and hurries off down the hall.  The room is small, with two dorm-style beds.  As fellow MMA buddies often say when they get a room with 2 beds, one for sleeping and one for stabbing.

The room phone rings, and it’s the man from the bar.  “I’ve been called away on business, sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you myself.  In the desk drawer is payment for your services.  I’ve drafted your schedule, have a look at it.”

I open the drawer and find a stack of $100’s on top of a plain white sheet of paper.  I made it 20 minutes ahead of the “Arrival Time,” so I glance down the list.  Two appointments tonight, two in the morning, two after lunch, and two in the evening.  That’s six per day over the next 3 days, plus two today.  Quick math, that’s twenty women total at $150 each.  I have no questions for him, and he finishes the call grateful I’m on time and ready to go, assuring me all the girls are over 18 and likely to be timid and shy.  As he hangs up, there is a soft knock at my door.

A cute young woman walks in, blushing and not making eye contact.  She quickly walks to the window and closes the curtains before switching off the lights.   Just enough ambient light shines from the ensuite bathroom.  She peels back the comforter on the bed and speaks just one word, “Sit,” before walking to the dresser to remove her bonnet, reaching beneath her dress to slide out of a modest sized pair of panties.  She doesn’t take off her dress before coming to the other side of the bed, gathering the fabric and quickly rolling back, head turned away from me.  She slides her feet up, bending her knees and lets them drop apart, her hand protecting her modesty.  “Sir?” she says only her second word and lays in wait.

Oddly, I am very aroused watching how quick and mechanical she’s moved since arriving just 2 minutes earlier.  No eye contact, no hello, no kiss, no foreplay.  But here she is, splayed apart on the bed and ready to get fucked.  I strip my lower half and spring into action, sliding into her without peeking.  She gives a pleasurable gasp at my skillful quickness in its own right, I watch her breathing thicken.  Feeling her clamp down onto my cock is just enough for me to cum hard, deep inside.

I sigh and smile, this was fun!  She blinks back to reality, using her slip to cup herself while walking back to the dresser.  Within a minute, her panties and bonnet are back in place and she’s out the door.

I grab my phone, no service and no wifi.  The room has a TV with the basic channels.  I need to update my list of demands to include an ounce of technology for my downtime or it’s going to be a long weekend.  For now, I watch “Big Brother,” shocked that show is still on the air.

At 9pm, another timid knock at the door.  This time I walk to the first bed to sit and wait.  While it’s a different girl, the routine is the same, bonnet and oversized panties off and onto the bed in a flash.  This girl looks amazing, I hover above and admire her soft skin and steel gray eyes.  Something about her, just gorgeous and getting hard is no issue.  Lucky for me, I’m able to last a while longer and enjoy this go around.  It’s so much better than a typical condom-wrapped romp, the feeling is amazing.  She gasps and pants, closing her eyes and gripping the bed.  As she leaves, I think to myself that I’ll look forward to next month if this session wasn’t a success.

Friday is like clockwork, two in the morning and another two in the afternoon.  All are under 25 years old and just as quick at prepping and leaving with barely a word.

In the evening, the soft knock I’ve come to know.  Showtime, again.  But, it’s the first girl from last night, and I take a seat without being prompted.  I have to say, the second time was more enjoyable because I think she was actually wet this time and seemed to look forward to it.

At 9 o’clock, the hot girl from the first night returns.  I blush, and she senses it, so she blushes too.  It shocks me, but we both giggle like school children.  She avoids eye contact, but tonight is much more enjoyable than the night before.  On her way out, I break the silence, “Tomorrow night?”  A soft yes and smirk as she leaves my room.

The schedule as it is, the same six girls each day at their same time slot.  Lucky for me, the cutest girl gets an extra night.  I think their leader wants to make extra sure she has a beautiful baby.  On the third night, I lay centered on the small bed while she removes her essentials.  “Do you want to be on top?”  Embarrassed, she just replies with a polite “No, thank you,” and makes eye contact with a mischevious look.

On our forth and final night, not sure if I have another full load to give, she knocks at 9pm.  I sit and wait.  This time, she’s dropped her dress, wearing the most delicate black lingerie.  “On top?” she timidly asks, blushing and looking down at her feet.  She rides me long and hard, our hands interlocked, as she keeps me from touching her body.  I cum just as hard as the first night, shocking myself with the quality of my final insemination.

I take my time packing my duffle bag and walking to my truck.  The long drive back to Vegas seems quicker than the drive to the compound.  I pull up at my condo and grab my bag.

“I want to stay,” a soft voice from the back of the truck says.