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[06:18 pdt 03/17/2018 CE, 1521293940 E]

Organization is the word of the day. We are considering ousting the archival structure and adding an index page for all of the titled entries. Since last year, the archive has grown out of control and the lines of code are proving time-consuming with regard to load times. The images do not help, either. So, the beginning of a different and more user-friendly indexing system will begin soon.


Jasmine and the Bleeding Prostitute

Part Two

"Juliette clinged to me like a wounded bird, yet the look on her face showed that she would not leave my side, despite a woman coming out of nowhere and addressing me as if we were more than acquianted. I felt the tightness of her hands at my waist and the warmth of her chin on my shoulder as I greeted Jasmine. She took my hand and wished to know if I was staying at the Mandalay. I told her that Juliette and I had a room next door, and asked if she needed to speak privately (no shit). Having had no dinner as of that point in the evening, the three of us ventured back across the bridge and up to my room. Along the way my hand felt like it would lose feeling due to Juliette's grip, and I understood completely. Her constant contact warmed me like nothing else. The poor girl was just getting to the beginning of some familiarity with me and the idea of being where we both needed, and the conversation hit a switch track. Out of nowhere approached a lavishly dressed -- and crying -- call girl from my past who had some issue for which she came to yours truly. And Juliette held on anyway. That thought did not leave my head for a long while. I just wanted to be alone with her but that would have to wait, and the entire time I worried over her feelings. That was a woman I had just met hours earlier, and there we were trotting toward my huge room with a fucking call girl. Nice. I had not seen Jasmine for a solid year since my previous trip, and was trying to calculate the odds of her spying me in that lounge -- which is quite off the beaten path, by the way -- and coming to me for help. I figured the matter would fall outside the typical issue which may draw security, and that consideration began to make me nervous. Juliette was not the only one with a tight grip.

We entered and Jasmine hugged me, still weeping. I told her that whatever may have been wrong would be alright, although I had no idea of why she came to me. The surprise of her arrival in the House was still floating within, yet my need to be with the loveliness which was Juliette remained at the forefront. Jasmine introduced herself to Juliette, and then turned and pleaded with me to bring another woman to my room immediately. Huh? Fuck. What could have been happening, and why was I suddenly a go-to? I informed her that the decision was not solely mine, so she also asked my companion if her request was acceptable. Juliette said it was fine, and wished to help in any manner which did not make us uncomfortable. Jasmine agreed, and made a phone call. We all sat down in the salon and the words stopped. The picture of the three of us must have been humorous on some level, but I was quickly becoming nervous, and the fear was all over my face. Juliette saw it right away because she rarely took her eyes off me. I could see appreciation combined with concern. That felt wonderful and I wished to grab her and hold on tight. She arose and walked to me, flopped on my lap and held on.

We waited several moments before hearing a knock at the door. Jasmine trotted over and let in the woman in question. Oy, god. The young girl entered and clutched Jasmine for dear life. Her lower lip was bleeding, hair was messed up pretty badly, and there was a small tear on her collar. She wore the clothing of someone in the business of 'entertainment' and looked like her day had not gone well, to say the least. Again, everyone sat, and the new arrival told us of what had happened less than an hour earlier. Apparently, she was overjoyed at being in my hotel room, as Jasmine had told her of what a good person I had been to her a year before. She thanked me and said she had run from a lower floor and hid in the stairwell for more than an hour. A client had attacked her in some manner and she barely got out of his room to flee further abuse. I told her she was welcome to stay a while, calm herself, clean up, and find a way to get out of the resort and back home.

Juliette and Jasmine were happy with my offer and both began to comfort the young girl. I sat there, floored by what was going on, and dreamed of returning to the warmth that was Juliette's company. She, in turn, looked at me like the same thoughts were going on inside her. After learning that the girl's name was Bridget, Jasmine asked if they could speak alone in the bathroom. Of course I agreed, and that gave Juliette and myself a few moments to do the same.

Her curves sent me flying

She took my hand and led me back to the sofa, grabbed my worried face, and whispered that once the affair with Jasmine and Bridget was resolved, we had plenty of time to spend alone. Juliette also said in no way would anything keep us from finding the space to learn of each other's desires and needs. Her eyes told me much more, and for once since turning and seeing Jasmine in the House, I felt at ease. My goodness, but the amount of feeling she expressed was disarming. Still new to each other and yet I knew all would be just fine -- somehow -- and for whatever reasons.

Moments later Bridget emerged from the bathroom and came to me for a hug. She tearily pleaded to get her out of the hotel in the direction she needed. All at once I knew how to proceed. I took Jasmine's hand and asked about my idea, and when she agreed I grabbed the phone and turned to Bridget to tell her not to fret over exiting the resort. She smiled, and I dialed. Within minutes there were two security officers at my door. Upon inquiring as to why I called, Bridget gave them the most amazing line of bullshit to steer them away from the idea of her being employed within the world's oldest profession. They courteously agreed to walk with us to the self-park portal at the rear of the hotel, and went ahead to ensure her safety. All of us exited the room -- Juliette once again attached to me like an extra appendage (heartwarming, to the last) -- and we made a beeline for the attraction level and toward the parking garage. The two officials stood by the door as Juliette and I said our goodbyes to both Bridget and Jasmine, after which they walked off to her parking space. Upon seeing them disappear, Juliette kissed me and asked to head back inside to Aurora for some further conversation. Yep... she wanted to know of my association with Jasmine, and in a comfortable setting. I thanked the security contingent for their endless attention and discretion, shook their hands firmly, and we disbanded. To the lounge directly.

Upon taking to the big chairs, the server sat with us to take our order, and sensed our need for solitude. I just loved to no end the ability of the picturesque staff in that bar to immediately pick up on the varying needs of the clientele and proceed to treat them accordingly. And ours was no different than Sandra earlier that day with her gentle words and understanding -- not to mention the unreal form of her cocktail dress and impeccable makeup. We ordered and sank into the chairs as if they were the very womb of life. And it began...

Juliette was a work of art

The tale of a year prior to meeting Juliette and her tremendous draw upon my senses. Onward to that story.

I was on the phone with the escort agency even before the plane left the ground in Oakland. I wanted to ensure my new friend would be at the hotel as soon after my arrival as possible and they operate smoothly enough that I knew there would be no entanglements. That agency is expensive, but worth it.

After checking into the hotel, I ordered two bottles of Grand Marnier, showered, shaved, dressed, and tipped the gentleman who delivered the booze. I offered him a cocktail and requested a few minutes of conversation. He asked what I wanted of him, and I inquired as to his knowledge of horizontal entertainment therapists. Tim replied that he had none but could give me the number of a behind-the-scenes concierge who knew all. He turned down the drink and shook my hand (while gazing at me as if I were Satan there to take his soul) and then trotted off toward the door. As the door swung open, Jasmine appeared on the other side and said hello. I thought he was going to blow a gasket. He looked at her, back at me, then to the floor before darting out. What a moment.

Jasmine and I spoke for more than an hour in my room before heading downstairs to Red Square. During that period I took notice of her appearance. She was lovely, exotic, extremely well-spoken and articulate. As escorts run she was classy, to be honest. She was dressed loyally in pants and a red silk blouse (as I had requested) and appeared affluent with all of the platinum accents. Her dark hair flowed well past shoulder length and nearly covered a beautifully tapered back. She wore black suede strapped pumps and her toenails were blood red. I just loved it. As Jasmine was such a gorgeous example of a young and healthy hybrid Japanese girl, you can probably imagine the attention she could garner when dressed to the nines. With introductory chit chat and our first exchange of cash out of the way, we headed to the bar (big surprise).

Red Square was peaceful and alluring. It is a Russian bar/restaurant and is known for copius amounts of stylish vodkas. Wonderful. We did not wish to eat there, so just a couple of martinis later we were out the door hand in hand. Her warmth and friendliness was driving me nuts. I longed to be against her in every way possible. We headed across the bridge to Aurora in the Luxor and along the way we browsed a few shops and took notice of the House Of Blues on the right as a possible dinner choice. They had the most wonderful calamari and shark dishes, and as a southern-themed establishment you just know there were umpteen fucking bourbons behind the bar waiting to be slurped. That place was really well operated, in my opinion. After yet another drink in Aurora and a dozen appraising glances from every traveling salesman and single guy in the room, we decided to go back to the Bay and sit in the tub. By that hour I was dying to caress her. Of course, she was mine and would affirm anything I wished. We ventured back through the Luxor arm-in-arm to our warm and bubbly destination.

We showered separately to avoid staying in there all evening. I wanted the tub and the warm relaxation that comes with it (and the fucking orange sweetness of the alcohol). Once in the welcoming hot water we immediately drew together and stayed as such for the next half hour. Jasmine's skin had been calling for my lips since the first moment we touched and so I pulled her in front of me - facing away - and held on tight while burying my face in her fragrant hair. That was unreal. She smelled wonderful. I let her slip down a bit until looking just over her head. We sat and talked about the town, the resorts, and tourism at such a stumbling economic time. The conversation was stifled when the timed bubbles ceased, leaving the room quiet and calm. At that point I gazed toward her legs as they rested between mine and saw one of the most enticingly beautiful sights imaginable. Her knees were together which created a tapered gap leading up the thighs. That is an image which I had sought vigorously over the last few years - just a picture. To have that vision in person and in front of me was nearly too much for my delicate senses (it is almost too much to sit here and fucking put it to the screen without falling into a mental hole). Needless to say, I gazed and drooled as long as I could hold out from completely swallowing all of her. Jasmine was pleasantly aware of my need to be silent at times. She allowed for the quiet in the room to be replaced by our breathing, and the mood felt as if she knew just what I needed from her. What a girl.

Jasmine wore the most elegant lingerie

Beyond our initial contact in the tub, the remainder of the early evening was spent as one might expect. Skin, alcohol, lips, fingers, tongues, breasts, legs... you know. I need not go into much detail, but suffice to say one of the most delightful moments of that weekend was spent licking Grand Marnier from the small of her back all the way down to the depths of my desire. Just absolutely satisfying, she was.

Jasmine and I napped for a bit before showering together. Shower led us into hunger. Time for dinner. After regaining some sort of composure, the ideas for dinner began to flow and eventually led us back to the House Of Blues. That was nice. Some fish, 1792 bourbon, spinach salad and a bit of B&B for dessert added up to quite the rich experience. I then decided that Jasmine was spending far too much time clothed, so back to the room we trotted. Once there, she became my toy yet again and for the next few hours I proceeded to explore her every inch. She was delicious, warm, soft, and every bit the caressing doll that I had craved. The night melted away and flowed into a soothing and comfortable embrace within our bed. I thanked her profusely for her time and she replied that I would no longer have need to call anyone else for my future visits to the promised land. Mercy. After that evening I was physically satisfied and sufficiently pickled enough to realize the gravity of my errors. I knew all too well that the real world would soon capture and confine me once again. That was all the more reason to drown deeper and that is precisely what I did on Sunday. A heaping helping of damaging behavior was on tap for yours truly.

Sunday morning brought me to my knees. The realization of the effects of running away were cemented deep in my psyche. I knew going home and facing that which I was avoiding would be difficult in the extreme. The time to delude further was at hand. Fuck it. I ordered a few pastries for us along with coffee and Bailey's (let me also add that they really fuck you when ordering full bottles of alcohol via room service, but I did not care at that time). Just a light breakfast was all we needed after the excess dinner the previous night. We showered together (of course) and then headed downstairs for a drink before taking a walk to Caesars. Aurora was empty and inviting. We sat and talked for a bit and then took off for the street. The walk was calm and peaceful.

Shopping within the Forum was uneventful. I made no purchases other than coffee and booze and Jasmine did the same. We merely wanted to be within the fold of the wealthy for a period of time. That is always a fun process to watch. Walking back toward the south and through the casino I noticed Cleopatra's Barge was all lit up for maintenance and it reminded me of my prior trip. The memory was painful. During said weekend I sat in that bar and contemplated killing myself at any moment. I was so fucking down that it seemed nothing could bring me out of such a low. For whatever reason, my comfort level within the club was not exactly blowing up my skirt, so I ventured out of the bar and all the way to the street. That is quite a long walk and an even longer trip back to the Luxor (my resort of choice back then). Along the way my head cleared a bit and upon my arrival at my room I noticed a message from a friend informing me she would be flying down in the morning. That boosted me enough to remain in this world a while longer. Let us turn our attention back to the Sunday in question, as the reference above is a story for another time.

As Jasmine and I walked by the barge that memory flooded into my head very quickly and I had need to take a pause. We turned back toward the Forum and sunk into the Seahorse for a break. That lounge is absolutely cozy. One drink coupled with some flirty chit chat with the server and we returned to our walk. Upon reaching the south exit from Caesars I remembered the Palm and just had to have some lobster. As that legendary restaurant is located within the Forum, we once again tramped through the casino. Lunch was yummy but oh so heavy. That required a midday cardiovascular workout. To the resort we strolled. Of course, I was referring to some afternoon pool and spa time. We limped to the hotel by way of an enchanting little lounge in the Monte Carlo that was just asking for attention. Few others were apparent when we arrived, so the two of us helped to drum up business for the alluring Thai bartender. Jesus, she was a fucking food group and had the typical melange of traveling males attached to her every word. Post drink, we darted back to the Mandalay and changed for the pool. Jasmine wore the most gorgeous yellow bikini, string-tied top and 3/4-cut bottom and just looking every bit the high-maintenance chick that I loved attached to my hip. I wore a body glove of the purple and black variety, all zippers and cash apparent. We swam and drank, leading once again to the feeling that Jasmine was clothed for far too long that day. To the room...

Anything I wished

...and we arrived to find hors d'oeuvres and champagne awaiting our drippiness. Jennifer (the concierge of the day) had outdone herself at making us feel welcomed and appreciated. (If only I could have returned the favor in kind.) We showered for an hour before flopping in for a nap. We never made it to the hot tub. All of that caressing and soapy behavior just took my wind away as it could. Jasmine had a knack for sending me into the fucking clouds. The nap and associated workout brought on the need for decadent and expensive cuisine (no shit, huh?). This time however, she picked the menu. We took to the street and walked all the way to the Venetian. Jesus fuck but that was a long way.

The fucking Delmonico Steakhouse. As it was my second visit, I already was aware of the experience ahead of us. That restaurant is simply one of the finest dining establishments in Las Vegas. Every aspect of the operation is fantastic. From classic mint juleps to the caesar dressing manufactured tableside to the fucking epic service, that place is tip top. In Vegas, stating one restaurant as head and shoulders above the rest is quite a feat. In this case, however, the task is easy. Dinner was 4 hours long and worth every second. I could not get enough of that place. Jasmine had some sort of a foodgasm after sampling a combination of prime beef and the luscious sweetness of an old fashioned on ice. I could see in her eyes that such a level of dining was not the norm for her. I just wanted to keep her forever and show her just how rewarding some parts of life could be. Too bad my goddamned head was a supernova in process. After dinner (12am by that point), we strolled through the Venetian and across the street to the beautiful Mirage for a bit of scenery. The members of the cocktail staff there are always lovely and worth a glance or three. Just one more glass of alcohol over ice and we left the waterfall-laden lounge for the street yet again and returned to the coziness and welcoming embrace of the Mandalay Bay - my dream home, as it were. Once back in the room, I peeled Jasmine's attire from her beautiful body and proceeded to paint her skin with my soft tongue. She was delicious and all mine. We slept as two halves of a human pretzel.

Monday morning was far too short in terms of the clock. Things had always tended to become rushed and businesslike when checkout time was apparent. I did not like that at all. The atmosphere changed dramatically and the idea of exiting my favorite place and returning to the world was not something that affected me in any positive way. The entire process needed to be removed from my way of life. The fit was not there at all. On that particular occasion, I knew of the seriousness of my choices. Common sense had been left at the gate in Oakland and after the weekend my mind was once again invaded violently with responsibility and the future. The moments were mounting. I also needed to say goodbye to Jasmine's beauty, warmth, and security, and that was not something I felt could be accomplished easily. The cut had to be quick and sharp. She had become my friend and lover for the entire visit and watching her leave my room and disappear into the dim hallway was almost too much for me to take. That difficulty sits within me now as a harsh reminder of the dramatic gradient between my life and my dreams. I drank to her departure, to my unhappiness, and to the road ahead. I drank in my room, in the elevator, and in the lobby for the last time. I then proceeded out of the hotel with flask in hand and tears in my eyes. All I had left was the mix of pain and fear which enabled my flight from home in the first place. Everything returned so quickly that I seemed to blink and the calendar disappeared before me as it had on so many occasions before.

The soft beauty, grace, and charm that was the Mandalay Bay had exited my consciousness and was replaced with life once again. Just bad. All bad.

Even her shoes turned me on like a switch

I conveyed the entire tale to Juliette. All of it. And the more detail I provided, the more she became enamored with both my storytelling and the story itself. What Jasmine had become on that fateful weekend in two thousand and two was enough to force Juliette to reveal to me that she had read me from the word go. Yes, at the fucking bank she saw me and knew that I could be a person with whom she could be comfortable. Huh? Comfort? With a man who had engaged the services of a prostitute and tossed his life aside for the excess of Vegas? Wow. Just wow. She told me that the escape aspect of that earlier weekend was very telling of the nature of my damaged mind and heart. Further, she stated that had the circumstances of that night's adventure with Jasmine and Bridget not taken place, she may not have viewed me in such a light. Holy fucking crap I just wanted to be all over her and in every conceivable manner. Juliette was unreal.

After spending a while there with conversation and a few quality cocktails, she wished to be truly alone. That was a thought which sent me flying, but I could not resist any request she may have had. That woman was placing herself next to me in so many ways that I had trouble rationalizing or understanding. So, considering all of my escapades in Vegas within so many fucking trips there for all the wrong reasons, I decided to let the world go and become whatever she wished me to be. There was no escaping the powerful draw of her beautiful eyes, huge heart, or the fact that she seemed to know me beyond what was real. I went with it -- with her -- into whatever world we could create. I found myself enamored with all that she was, and all that I knew we would enjoy.

Off the deep end of the scale, and off to the edge of the universe we headed. Juliette took me... she fucking took all of me to a place where I could attach myself without worry, incident, or pain. Her heart wrapped itself around me and warmed me to no end. God help me for the exit which would arrive after such bliss.

We took note of Aurora's wonderful atmosphere and made a beeline to the garage once again to retrieve Juliette's belongings for the stay. Afterward, we scrambled up to the room so she could unpack and spread her things about the vanity. We spoke here and there about things to see and do, places to visit for food and drink, and after her bag was emptied she looked upon me for attention. I assured her that she would be want for nothing no matter the length of stay nor cost. She smiled and walked to me with eyes on fire. The tale had left her wanting much more than the bars and restaurants, and although she seemed to be suddenly in heat, we agreed to move slowly and be certain that our path was clear and understood from that point forward. Jesus god on the mountain of life... the situation finally showed us a beginning upon which we could attach our wants. And they were many, for both.

Juliette dressed in a stunning array of lingerie (displaying nearly all of herself right in front of me but paying no attention to my glancing toward her), an outfit made up of a silk tank and form-fitting low-rise jeans, and a pair of heels which propelled her up and into the likes of nothing I had ever seen before me. I asked if my attire could possibly match her level, and she walked to me with an expression of appreciation followed by a whisper. 'You look fantastic, but nothing you can wear will match your heart. Let's get a drink, talk a bit, and then finally go eat something.' Yes, ma'am.

Fuck me in a muddy ditch, that was the end of my sense. I disconnected myself from all that came before, and embraced the bubble. I walked to her and hugged her for all I was worth. The woman demonstrated unending compassion, kindness, caring, and a gentle nature toward complete strangers (not to mention me). I could not believe Juliette's nature and my good fortune at asking of her at the bank. Still, and despite all of the heavenly thoughts and wondrous imagery flying through my fucked up head, one simple question was still hanging on and swinging to and fro just as a pendulum clocking my very fears...

Why would this beautiful example of womanhood cut and run with me? Oy. We needed to have a conversation, and that time was finally at hand. As gorgeous as she was, standing there dressed to kill, and as the thoughts of ravaging her spun over and over within me, the talking had to come first. I took her hand and we left the room.

Oh my, those thighs

Back down the inclinator and into the casino for the third time.

Juliette and I walked slowly toward the Nile and again she gripped my hand the entire stroll. We took a seat at the empty bar and proceeded to learn of each other. The first order was my reasoning for being there and flying away from my life so quickly. I told her of all that had taken place as well as my feelings toward my life as it stood. Work, my relationship, the previous year's trip to the Luxor, and the idea that my career was becoming stagnant and unsatisfying. As I spoke to her lovely eyes, she sat quietly and caressed my hands. Not a word emanated from her until such time as she felt I needed a break. Juliette took in every word with her full attention and that was something to which I was not accustomed. It was heartwarming.

Cocktails, of course.

On the other side of things, she revealed to me that similar demons were at work inside her head and my dinner invitation became an door of sorts. She had been seeking something outside her life and daily routine but nothing came along. The wait caused her to begin losing faith in the possibility of happiness and a connection with another person which was the top of her list. Apparently, as soon as I appeared at the teller window she saw the difficulty and recklessness in my eyes and wished to know of the how and the why. I told her that when I saw her eyes glistening in the bright lights, I knew she was someone with whom I could spend time and be very comfortable. I stared at her face for several moments because I could not help it. She stared back at me, got up from the chair and pulled my ponytail up to the top of my head. Juliette then kissed the back of my neck, whispered that she needed the restroom, and walked away. I watched her long, tapered legs and her ass as it gyrated back and forth across the casino. Jesus fucking Christ, the woman looked incredible, and she was with me. Criminy. The bartender smiled at me and I looked back with a combination of fear and longing. And bliss. She gave me goosebumps all over.

Upon her return we closed the tab and thanked our bartender for his attention. Across the big bridge again, and this time into Rumjungle. At long last, we sat and had a nice meal which brought me back to the original invitation at the bank. We dined and spoke of how nice it was to be alone. She looked so beautiful that I still stumbled with my words from time to time. That made her giggle and she told me it was ok because she knew there was much more to my heart than carnal thoughts. Fucking hell, what a lovely dinner and companion. To think that I had paid a tremendous sum for a similar type of company just a year before was stirring. Juliette was real. And I mean it. Again she took my hand in her long fingers, and leaned across the table.

'I need you up against me.'

Oh god.

We fucking doubt it to the nth.

Random Quote:

"The eyes see only what the mind is prepared to comprehend."
- Bergman

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