What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas!

I now understand the true reason why Vegas has been dubbed “Sin City”, and I have fallen madly in love with it for those reasons! Let me explain…

A couple of weeks ago Mr. Sports Fan and I ventured to Las Vegas on business; he was there for his sports business and I was there for the AVN Expo and Awards, which I had press credentials for. Yes, I know, I know, it’s such a difficult job to interview gorgeous porn star after sultry porn star all day long… and I did it in stilettos of course. But, we really were in Vegas on business. We spent every morning through early afternoon  being very mature, wheeling and dealing at the sports show, and then we’d jump in a cab (where I’d transform from dominant business woman to sultry dominatrix) and head to the Hard Rock for the AVN show until dinner time. After both shows we grabbed food, took a nap and then went out all night since I was reviewing  night clubs as well. It was actually pretty exhausting, especially with the 3 hour time difference, but it was so worth it!

Day after day at the AVN’s I interviewed some of the most talented, gorgeous and intelligent men and women in the industry, and of course I was all “slutted up” while I was there: one day was leather pants and 5″ stilettos, another day a mini skirt, tank top and fishnets. Aside from men and women hitting on me, Mr. Sports Fan couldn’t keep his hands off of me. To say the sex was filthy during our entire trip is an understatement! We had raw, Las Vegas sexraunchy, filthy porn worthy sex—dirtier and raunchier than our typical porn worthy sex at home— every day and night that we were in Sin City. There was no foreplay, no romance, no teasing or playing… just raw, animalistic, hard core fucking! It was great!

Walking around in stilettos all day is murder on a girls feet, so of course I captured a few foot slaves to rub my feet for me in between interviews. I didn’t mean to capture them, but when a man so submissively offers to rub my feet, like any good Mistress I am happy to oblige my subservient slave.

The first man to be enslaved was a fellow member of the press; a tall older man with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and the willingness to serve obediently. It started because he made a comment about being tired from being in his feet, to which I replied “Ya, well try doing it in these for 3 days!” (referring to my 5″ spikes) “I’ll rub your feet for you,” he offered while he stood over me as I sat on the leather couch in the press room awaiting my next interview. Hmm, I was intrigued. “Here you go then,” I said, extending my leg up towards his chest, and he grabbed my heel, kissing it submissively. “Well if you’re gonna do it, do it right,” I said to him; he looked at me and grinned, rubbing my foot harder. “Get on your knees,” I demanded… and he did. He got on his knees, unbuckled my shoe, slipped it off and massaged my foot ever so obediently. Such a good boy.

As for the second man I enslaved… well, my sexy readers, that’s a tale of insatiable man candy and hot porn worthy sex best kept for another day. But I’ll give you this one juicy word so that you have something to fantasize about… threesome.

~XOXO

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Boston Single Girl

True stories of the good, the bad and the ugly of single life in Boston. Reality is far more interesting than fiction! You can find read the adventures here and on Singles Warehouse http://www.singleswarehouse.co.uk Make sure to follow on Twitter