Weekend in Sin City
A True-Life Encounter
By BB
The following is a true-life account of a weekend in Las Vegas, Nevada, where my wife and I went to celebrate my birthday.
Some readers outside the United States may not be aware of Las Vegas, Nevada or what goes on there. Americans know. Many Americans affectionately refer to Las Vegas as “Sin City.” People go to Las Vegas to gamble too much, drink too much, and eat too much…way too much. All forms of gambling are legal in Las Vegas. In addition, outside of Las Vegas lies the only county in America where brothels and prostitution are legal.
There are dozens of large hotels with huge sprawling casinos. Each hotel has its own theme, and each tries to out-do the others to compete for business…Paris, Las Vegas; the Venetian; Monte Carlo; New York, New York, etc. We stayed at the Monte Carlo.
The hotels are located along Las Vegas Boulevard; also know as “The Strip.” The Strip is bathed in lights 24-hours a day, with massive, flashing, high-tech lighted signs, video displays, search lights, and all other forms of illumination.
In addition to offering gambling, every casino has a low-cost buffet restaurant where patrons can stuff themselves silly. Breakfast, lunch or dinner…it's all you can eat, anything you want to eat, and as much as you want for one low price. Some people pile their plates with massive amounts of food and then return for seconds, thirds, maybe even fourths, each time with overflowing plates.
Finally, there is dessert. Why just have one, when you can have two, three or four. How about a large bowl of ice cream? Is that enough? Better take some more. Now it needs some hot fudge, maybe some strawberry topping, whipped cream, some nuts and a few cherries. That's kind of a lot, but that pie looks good, better take a piece. Maybe, just a little piece of cake…hm, there's three kinds of pudding, I'll just try one.
People walk out of the buffets at lunchtime, holding their stuffed tummies, and thinking, “I'll never eat again.” Then, comes dinner, and they are on line again. They figure, “Who knows when I'll be back…I might as well enjoy myself while I'm here…I'll be back to normal on Monday.”
Aside from the buffets there are food courts, snack bars, fancy restaurants, bars, and cocktail lounges, all offering multiple opportunities for overindulgence. People eat continuously around the clock and when not eating they are usually drinking beer or some sweet high-calorie tropical drinks. Fun seekers who come for a week can easily gain ten pounds or more. Five pounds in a weekend would not be extreme.
On top of everything else, Las Vegas is located in the desert where it is usually hot, very hot. On the recent weekend in question, it was over 100o F every day. When not gambling, patrons spend lazy afternoons lying around the sprawling gardens and swimming pools sunning their bloated bellies and occasionally dunking in the water to keep cool. Pool-side bars and snack bars offer plenty of opportunities for lazy snacking and libations.
Among the many rounded bodies around the pool on a hot Saturday afternoon I spotted two thirtyish ladies in very skimpy bikinis sitting at the edge of one of the pools. They were dunking their feet into the pool to keep cool and drinking one beer after another from bottles. They were both fairly thin, but their soft round beer bellies bulged out over their bikini bottoms.
One's belly was beginning to form two lobes, with separate bulges on either side of her belly button. Not huge, maybe and extra 15 or 20 pounds had crept around her middle. The interesting thing about this lady was her apparent fondness for her own soft tummy. With the beer bottle in one hand, the other hand repeatedly touched, stoked and caressed her mid-section. She would feel underneath to judge how far it was sticking out, then gently rub it in a manner I found very erotic. Occasionally she would slip her fingers under the elastic of her bikini bottom, run them around the underside of her gut, and then tug at or adjust her bikini bottom. No matter how many adjustments she made, there was no way that skimpy bikini was going to cover or even help contain her sexy beer belly.
Saturday evening after dinner we strolled through an indoor shopping mall that is part of one of the large hotels. It seemed that every young lady we passed appeared to be fresh from the latest stuffing. Everywhere I looked soft bellies bulged over the tops of tight, very low-cut jeans or skimpy miniskirts, evidence of a big Saturday night dinner. Tight fitting tops rode up exposing a delightful expanse of new chubbiness.
We passed one young couple standing on line to buy some ice cream. The girl was thin, but a slight roll protruded over the top of her tight jeans, the results of some recent over-indulgences. I heard her asking her boyfriend if she had gotten too fat to eat ice cream. She showed him the front of her tummy and then stood sideways so he could get a look at her profile. He was saying something like, “No, honey, you look fine.” They both walked away licking double-scoop ice-cream cones.
Late mornings on Sundays are particularly entertaining times in Las Vegas. People are checking out of the hotels after a weekend, or maybe a week, or maybe two weeks of partying. Out in front of the hotels, people stand on the sidewalks waiting for shuttle buses to take them to the airport. It's time to go back to the real world, maybe sporting an extra ten pounds that they picked up when they weren't losing all their money at the gaming tables.
Some girls are going home after their honeymoon in Vegas having really let themselves go after weeks of starving to fit into their wedding dresses. They feel quite liberated with a ring on their finger and an imaginary ring through the new husband's nose. With that feeling of freedom, they can really dig into the buffets with abandon. Not only do they not have to worry about squeezing into the damn wedding dress, but they don't have to worry about trapping their man anymore. He has signed up and is under contract for the long haul. So what if they put on a few pounds, they've got their man.
Velour or stretchy terry-cloth short sets or light-weight jogging suits purchased mid-way through the vacation are comfortable and cool and allow for some growth without being too constraining. Often they have “Viva Las Vegas” or some other similar sentiment stitched across the seat. On Sunday mornings, the pretty young-ladies stand in front of the hotels, partied-out, maybe slightly hung over, with little concern about holding in their rounded tummies. Tight panty-lines and bared mid rifts exposing tattoos on the bellies or lower back only enhance the total look and the appeal to the eager and enthused tummy-fetishist.
After checking out of our hotel on Sunday, we ventured to nearby Mount Charleston for a late lunch. Mount Charleston is home to a German-themed mountain lodge where we had our meal. Located high on the mountain, the lodge is thousands of feet in elevation above the desert floor. The Mount Charleston Lodge offers another opportunity for chowing down waist expanding treats such as the ½-pound Paul Bunyan Cheeseburger which comes with a mountain of fried potatoes and German beer.
There, we observed a group of about ten individuals that appeared to be an extended family. The group included three very attractive, slightly chubby young ladies, probably in their early twenties. The tightness of their clothes suggested to me that they were just wrapping-up a stay in Sin City, and like us were stretching their vacation with a last outing to this mountain retreat.
As we were finishing our lunch, the group was seated at a nearby long table, with the three young ladies seated in a row along one side of the table. The chubbiest of the three ladies was wearing very tight shorts with the top button undone to allow her to breathe. Her tight little t-shirt barely reached the top of the shorts, and tended to ride up exposing a soft bulge of flesh on her mid-section, forcing her to tug it down to keep the bulge covered. When she sat, a sizable roll of blubber pushed out over those delightfully tight shorts.
They ordered their food as we were finishing our lunch. I proceeded to the cashier to pay the check. Standing by the cash register, waiting to pay, I happened to be standing very near and at the head of the table with the three girls. The girl with the ultra-tight shorts was sitting closest to where I was standing and I had a good profile view of her as se sat waiting for her food to arrive. I was attempting to discretely admire her tummy as she chatted with her girl friends. Only about two paces away, I could clearly hear what she was saying.
I was dumbfounded by what happened next. It was like sweet nirvana for a man with a belly fetish. I don't think I have ever seen such a display in public before. My eyes must have bulged out an inch and my jaw nearly hit the floor. I wanted to stare in disbelief, but had to be as discrete as possible for fear that she would see me looking and stop what she was doing.
There was a lull in the conversation between the three young ladies, when the one closest to me with the delightfully tight shorts, looked down at the bulge spilling over the top of those shorts with the button open. Then, she pinched her belly roll with both hands. “Look at this,” she announced, “I've gotten fatter.”
The other two young ladies looked over to see what the fuss was about and chuckled. Then, they looked down at their own rolls, and each mumbled something to the effect of, “Yeh, me too,” or maybe, “Yeh, we've all gained a bit.” They each seemed uninterested in the topic and went on about the business of waiting for their lunch.
That alone would have been entertaining enough for me, but it didn't stop there. The first girl proceeded to squeeze her roll and bounce it up and down. She poked it and prodded it and slapped it to watch little waves form. Her two friends watched with mild interest and the rest of the group seemed to ignore her. I wondered if this might be a frequent occurrence. I fantasized that playing with her belly was something she enjoyed doing
After she finished poking and prodding her tummy, she slumped down in her chair and puffed out her belly. It was like she was inflating a beach ball as it bulged out round and full over the top of those now way-too-tight shorts. She placed one hand on either side of her inflated tummy and patted and shook it and bounced it up and down. Then, she sucked it back in and sat up very straight in her chair, and repeated the previous exercise in this new position, bulging out her tummy and playing with it in a similar manner. Next, while still sitting very straight in her chair, she relaxed her tummy and continued poking it to see how chubby it was normally. Finally, having finished playing with her tummy, she pulled down her t-shirt as far as she could in an apparent attempt to cover it and forget about it so she could fully enjoy her lunch.
With the entertainment over, I finished paying for lunch and left the restaurant. I spent the rest of the afternoon reliving the experience and wondering what that magnificent tummy would have looked like filled with a massive Paul Bunyan Cheeseburger, a mountain of fries and a few beers. I fantasized about the three girls piling into the backseat of a van for the trip down the mountain with bloated bellies and their zippers undone to relieve the pressure. What a great way to end my weekend in Sin City.