So Jerico can enjoy the sensations.

“Faster,” Jerico growls at me.

Apparently, he wants to enjoy faster sensations.

I do what he wants because the first time I pull off and slam back onto him, I realize it is exactly what I need to fire my orgasm back up again. I fuck Jerico Jameson and I do it hard, deep, and fast, just as he did to me moments ago.

The only disappointing thing about this encounter is that I can’t see the man whose cock I’m riding. But I can hear him. Grunting and groaning and panting and cursing.

Fuck, that feels good.

So fucking good.

That pussy is golden. I’m going to fuck it again and again.

I listen to all of this and that mighty “O” starts to brew. It’s different than the first one. It’s forming deeper in my belly and feels more substantial. Tangible, as if I could reach inside of myself and squeeze it. I can feel it rumbling, morphing, growing bigger. Every time the end of his cock hits my womb, it contracts inward and then grows a little bigger until it feels like everything from my belly button down is strung tight and ready for release.

I want to tell Jerico I’m close, but I can’t. So instead I throw myself on and off his cock faster and harder, and this causes Jerico to hiss in pleasure or perhaps pain. I’m not sure and because I am so far gone, I’m not sure I really care either.

“Jesus, fuck,” Jerico chants. “Fuck… going to come.”

Those three words are apparently the key to unlocking that huge rumbling orgasm inside of me. It detonates just as Jerico releases my hair and grabs my hips so he can slam into me one last time. My vision goes black for a moment as my entire body convulses with pleasure. He quickly wraps an arm under my chest with his palm to my shoulder so I won’t fall forward and grinds against my ass as he shudders and curses out his climax.

I cry out against the panties in my mouth. Before I know it, Jerico’s pulling them out with his free hand. His chin falls to my shoulder and his other arm wraps around my lower abdomen. He holds me tight, his frantic heartbeat pounding against my back while I heave in as much oxygen as I can get. We stay that way for several long moments, heavily panting while we both come down off the orgasmic high.

I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. Jerico is silent as well. I notice that the crowd disperses, off to do their own thing, essentially leaving Jerico and me alone.

It’s weird.

We’re in a room having just engaged in public sex. There are people all around us having sex. Strange men held my legs apart while Jerico ate my pussy. And yet right now, both of us kneeling on a vinyl chaise lounge, his cock still deep inside of me and his arms wrapped tight, this feels so very private and intimate.

I mentally shake my head to chase that thought away.

This is just sex. That’s what Jerico said, and that’s what I need to believe.



I glance at my watch and then to Kynan as he tightens the last screw on the small camera he’s mounted to the wall. It’s small, black, and unobtrusive. I doubt Trista would notice it.

The installation of the camera was necessary because when I reviewed the security feed tapes of me fucking Trista in the orgy room last night, I was disappointed in how little you could see. While I made my choice to fuck her on a piece of furniture surrounded by lots of people so she could get the full effect of her exhibitionism, I picked probably the worst angle for any of the cameras to pick up. The video would not be usable and I would have to pay more attention to these things in the future.

“Need you to hurry up,” I tell Kynan. “Trista will be here in about ten minutes.”

Kynan gives one more twist to the screwdriver and backs away. Turning to me, he says, “You’re all hooked up. Its motion activated and should catch everything you need.”

I don’t miss the censure in his voice, but I don’t address it either. This is none of his business.

But apparently, he wants to make it his business because he says, “This may be the worst idea you’ve ever had, Jerico.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “Revenge is never a bad idea. You know that better than anyone.”

“True enough,” Kynan acknowledges as he puts the screwdriver back in a small toolbox he had brought with him. “But not if it stands to hurt an innocent.”

I fucking hate that word.


Because that is exactly what Trista is. I may have introduced her to a sinfully erotic world that I intend to keep showing her, but she is innocent of anything to do with her brother’s betrayal of me. While my plans are intended solely to strike at Jayce, I’m fully aware Trista could get hurt.

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