This is my first time writing erotic fiction. I hope you enjoy it, as these scenarios have been floating around in my head for a while. Be aware, this series will include a variety of adult situations, including bisexuality, interracial sex, incest, group sex and other taboo subjects that not everybody may be into. If any of these subjects bother you, there's an entire site here filled with things you may prefer more. In any event, thanks for reading.
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It was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Lionel had been right - all I really needed to do was talk to Nyla. It seemed clear her issue with me was reasonable. After all, they really DIDN'T know me. Granted, my Mom was a pretty solid vouch, but given how prominent Sol was in the city, and given the things he liked to do with his family, I could understand why she felt the need to be distrusting. It certainly tracked with what I was concerned about, and even though this hotel was drowning in sex, the world outside the hotel was not moving nearly as quickly at accepting certain things. We'd come a long way, sure, but not everywhere was ready for the kinds of no-holds-barred fucking and sucking you could get away with in Vegas, especially at the Elysium.
The day was only half over, and I hadn't seen Mom since Friday night's session, so I sent her a text to see if she wanted to hang out. Sundays were typically family days when I was at home, just the two of us, and it felt weird to me not to be spending every minute with her.
While I waited for her to respond, I went back to my apartments and got changed. I threw all the dirty laundry I was holding - my four t-shirts and one pair of shorts, onto the cuck chair. Looking at the pile of clothes on the chair, I picked up one of my t-shirts the girls had been wearing and sniffed it. It smelled lightly of cotton candy and some kind of perfume. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have the Terrible Trio stealing my clothes out of my drawers.
I appreciated the magical powers of my bedroom's cuck chair - I threw all my dirty clothes on it, and magically they reappeared in my closet or drawers the next day, cleaned and pressed. Another thing I was getting to used to and wouldn't have when I went back to school. I resolved for a minute to do my own laundry like an adult, but only for a minute. Why wouldn't I take advantage of someone to do the laundry if I had it? I've never understood the whole "it'll build character" nonsense about basic chores. I'd rather be doing something more productive, like watching TV or reading a book.
I flipped on the TV and sat down to kill some time - if Mom didn't want to hang out, I'd probably just go down to the sports book and watch football, maybe put a few bucks on my favorite team. The TV was tuned to an all news channel, and the chyron on the bottom of the screen caught my attention: "Nevada Gov in Incest Scandal"
I turned up the volume and started watching the interview. The talking head on the cable news channel was interviewing a reporter for the largest Vegas daily newspaper, who had apparently uncovered this "shocking revelation."
"...and it became apparent that he and his sister had been engaging in an illicit relationship for more than three years. As you know, incest is a crime in Nevada, and our expose has led to the opening of a law enforcement investigation. While morals have been loosening all across America for decades now, this kind of behavior from a senior government official is shocking..."
The reporter, whose name according to the screen was Avery Locke, was stunning. She had brown eyes, long black hair that hung down to her breasts and flawless skin. She was wearing a demure bright orange blouse that set off her tanned skin, and it seemed clear she had some Indian, whether American or Subcontinental I wasn't sure, ancestry. Her teeth were dazzlingly white, and her smile was friendly. As she sat there talking about incest and scandal and investigations, I couldn't stop watching. Her clothes were so plain it was impossible to guess what was beneath them, but it didn't matter. She was still beautiful. If you had to have your career ended by somebody, she was the kind of woman you'd thank to do it.
"...our reporting indicates that this is not an isolated incident in Nevada, and Las Vegas, in particular, is seeing an upsurge in this kind of sexual depravity. The Governor claims he has done nothing wrong, that his relationship with his sister is private, and that even if he had been having a relationship with her, which he neither confirmed nor denied, he was unable to bear any children and thus the primary legal concern was moot. He has vowed to take this to the legislature, urging they amend the criminal statutes to provide an exception when procreation isn't possible. We are continuing our investigation to see how far this behavior has spread and we're getting pretty close to some new major revelations." Avery concluded. She was poised and articulate. She sounded smart, and I could have listened to her voice all day.
"Well, they don't call it Sin City for nothing, right? Thank you, Avery Locke, and we'll be right back with the latest from Washington." The channel cut to commercial and I muted the TV again.
Shit. Misaki had told me on my first day that a reporter had tried to gain access to the residences. Could this investigation of the governor have spilled over to Sol and Mom? Probably not Mom, because Sol and Mom had kept their relationship pretty quiet - only staff of the company new they were together. But most of the staff had to know that the Sinclairs were a very loving family. Could she know about us?
I also knew Mom and Sol were planning on announcing the engagement soon. They hadn't set a date for the wedding yet, but Mom seemed to think it could happen before I went back to school. I knew as soon as the engagement was announced, we'd be inundated with media. All the tabloids would be trying to figure out who Mom was, and likely they'd be looking at me, too.
I wonder how much Sol and Mom knew about this? Had they prepared for it?
I made a note to get the newspaper delivered from now on, so I keep could an eye out for any more articles by this Avery Locke. I have to admit I was a bit smitten looking at her, but I knew she was beyond dangerous - not just to me and Mom but to my entire new family.
Grabbing my tablet from the breakfast table, I googled her name and found a half dozen stories under her by-line. I found her bio, too. She was about ten years older than me, father was Indian, he had emigrated from Tamil Nadu late in the last century and her mom was American, graduated from Columbia, spent a few years in Washington DC working for one of their major newspapers and then moved to Vegas right around when I started college. She'd already had success taking down one politician in a sex scandal before the Governor, the then Speaker of the Nevada Assembly, a woman, who apparently had an overfondness for her pets. Kinky.
While I was researching, my phone beeped and I saw I had a text from Mom. She was in a cabana by the pool, and I was welcome to come down and join her.
I searched through the drawers of my bedroom, looking for and finding a pair of swim trunks, so I left the penthouse and headed down to the pool deck.
It was just warm enough this December for the pool to still draw a moderate crowd. While there were a few people swimming and splashing around - and I saw at least one nude couple making out in the shallow end - the vast majority of folks outside were simply sunning themselves, trying to get the last bit of pre-Christmas tanning in.
I found Mom in one of the larger cabanas, sipping on a mojito with her legs curled up underneath her on the oversized bed. She was wearing her reading glasses, her dark curls piled on top of her head, reading a legal journal. She was sporting an ivory string bikini that I was sure would be translucent the second it got wet. The two thin triangles of cloth struggled to contain her perky medium sized tits, and the bottoms looked like a cocktail napkin tied together with a few pieces of string. It was just enough to cover her crotch. She looked amazing, and I began thinking, again, about our liaison with Sol.
She wasn't alone in the cabana. There were three men with her, none of whom were Sol. All of them looked like they could be related to him, however. They were topless, and two were wearing white swim trunks that contrasted sharply with their deep brown skin. One of the men was covered in tattoos, one was bald like Sol, and the other had a thin fuzz of hair on his head but a medium length, black curly beard that he must have spent a considerable amount of time on. They each had beers and were sitting on two couches, one on each side of the bed. I didn't recognize any of them. The bald guy was wearing a black pair of speedos that left nothing to the imagination and the bulge of his cock was pronounced. I noted he had a stylized "S" tattoo on his lower right abdomen. The other two could have had the same tattoo, but it was hidden by their shorts. They were engaged in a lively conversation with each other, talking loudly over the bed. My Mom had a smirk on her face and would occasionally lift her eyes from her journal to look at the two white trunks on one couch, or black speedo on the other.
