Vegas baby

By on June 22, 2011.

22nd June 2011

“Welcome to Las Vegas” said the border control officer as he stamped my tourist visa into my passport. As he handed back my passport to me all I could do was mutter a thank you through the massive grin that was on my face. Finally I was here, back in the USA and not only that, in Vegas baby!

Ten hours on a plane, 40 minutes of which had been spent on the ground at Gatwick while Virgin searched for a pilot to replace the one that had gone home sick, and I was here and all that stood in the way of me being kissed again was the wait for my luggage and one more doorway. The luggage hall was packed full of my fellow travellers and the carousel was already laden with suitcases by the time I got to it but of course there was no sign of mine.

My lips tingled with anticipation of the kiss that was waiting for me as I watched bag after bag drop onto the platform and slowly but surely creep its way round and round the room offering up its bounty to the waiting masses. I stood fidgeting; actually fretting is a better word for it, where the hell is my suitcase?

7 weeks we had been apart, 7 weeks since I had kissed Him goodbye at a bus stop in Philadelphia, 7 weeks since I had watched that bus take him away from me and 7 weeks since I walked back to my hotel, collected the very same bag I was now waiting for and returned back to England. It doesn’t sound that long I know, and in comparison to our time apart now I look back and realise that 7 weeks was nothing but right at that moment, every second that ticked by felt like torture. My whole body ached for His touch, I was a quivering wreck of lustful need that only He could calm for me.

My eyes had started to blur, I had been staring so hard at all the bloody luggage but then all of a sudden I saw it leap forth from the hole in the wall and drop onto the carousal and then into my greedy hands. Approaching the magic doors I could see Him through them, leaning up against the wall, His suitcase prompted up next to Him and for a brief moment I paused. I wonder if he felt my eyes on Him because in that instant he looked up and saw me.

As the doors opened the intense desert heat almost took my breath away but just a few strides later and I was there in front of Him. His lips immediately found mine in a kiss, one hand on the small of my back pulling me in close to Him and the other on my neck as he claimed my wanton lips in one of those kisses. You know the type, the ones that leave you breathless, make your knees go weak and your pulse race, that bruise your lips and make you forget that you surrounded by other people because in that moment there is only you, and Him and that kiss.

That was a year ago now and it was the beginning of a blissful 9 days together in Vegas that was filled with kisses and spanks, whips and belts, bruises and marks, heat and sun, more food than I thought was possible to eat, laughter and love, jokes and joy, swimming and sight-seeing, passion and desire, and restful sleep that only seems to happen when he is next to me….. And, a tiny bit of conference attending on His part, but it turned out that many of the sessions He planned on attending ended up not being quite as important as He first thought. Opps and I nearly forgot an England v USA world cup football match. Only in Vegas baby!!

Mollyxxx

Ps…I hope Ruby will forgive me this piece, her rather tricky word this week was conference and all that led to was a bit of reminiscing. Make sure you visit the other Wednesday playgrounds.

About: 

Molly Moore - Author, Blogger, Photographer, Speaker
Find me in my corner of the internet at Molly's Daily Kiss
and on Twitter @mollysdailykiss

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  1. I like bruises too. Little tell tell reminders of the heat and passion that caused them. I love catching sight of them in mirror or little flicks of discomfort when one is touched in the course of a regular day. 🙂
    The description of that kiss made me weak in the knees. Beautifully written.

  2. Having been to Vegas…well, at least the airport en route to San Diego…let me just say that the “border control officer”s are simply laughed at.

    Little known fact, but most American airports are considered “International” because US Customs agents live in Canada…thus, though you cannot fly to Kansas City from London, UK…the fact that you can from Saskatoon (even though there is no “customs” in Kansas City), makes it international…

    Sorry…no more ranting on this stormy evening.

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