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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After my shower, I climbed into bed. It was still pretty early, not even midnight, and I tossed and turned. Finally, around one, I gave up on sleep for the time being and decided to take a walk around the hotel. I threw on a t-shirt and shorts, and headed downstairs. The security guard at the station in the penthouse lobby waved at me, not someone I knew yet.
Down in the residences lobby, I stood staring for a few moments at the threesome fountain, marveling again at Nyla's amazing art. It was simply beautiful. Especially at night, when the lobby lights were dimmed and it was relatively quiet.
The casino floor was still going strong, this being a Saturday night. People were laughing, drinking, and having a good time. The Christmas decorations that had been added a few weeks ago were still up and would be until New Years and they made the place feel quite homey. There were a few groups of people in tuxedos and ball gowns, alongside others wearing sweats and hoodies. It was an interesting dichotomy, but everybody seemed to be having a enjoying a night in the Elysium.
I crossed the casino floor, looking at the games and wanting to play. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to anymore, honestly. I was a Vice President of the Sinclair Group, technically, and I didn't have a portfolio yet. Nevada law banned casino owners and senior company officials involved in casino operations from playing games in their casino. Miles got around that because he wasn't an owner, and he didn't have any impact on casino operations, just live events and the club. Mom and Sol couldn't gamble, and I guess I couldn't either. I didn't want to take the risk, so I didn't sit down to play roulette again like I'd done with Miles.
Apparently there was no rule against gambling for non-senior staff, because as I was walking around, I noticed a blackjack table with a lone player. While the table was empty except for the single player and the dealer, I noticed there was a pile of chips - in some places a considerable pile of chips - at each of the seven spots on the table. I was standing a few feet back, watching to see what would happen. The dealer was showing a 5, and the player stood on a 20, a 19, a 17, a 19, busted with 23, busted with 25 and stood on a 20. The dealer then turned over an ace of hearts, was forced to hit by house rules on 16, and then turned over another 5, making 21. The guy sitting there had lost all seven hands.
This was a hundred dollar minimum table, and there had to have been a couple grand in bets on those seven hands, easy. EACH. I had never seen anything like that in my entire life. I sighed, feeling for the guy, and turned to walk away. Before I did so, I caught a glimpse of him from the side as he threw a wad of hundreds onto the table, ready to buy back in.
It was Biggs.
I froze for a second, but then I started walking, faster and faster, heading back towards the elevators. He never saw me.
I didn't know anything about Biggs, other than that he worked for us. I had barely talked to him, I just knew that he and Lionel were partners, and he'd worked for Sinclair since the group was founded. He was a security guard, so he was probably making okay money, but could he withstand losing that kind of cash at the tables? The staff was vetted, especially the family protection unit, but how often did they go back and review their files? Did he have a gambling problem? Could he be selling secrets to somebody? Where was he getting that kind of scratch?
I didn't know, and I needed to. I knew it was late, just after midnight, but Nyla and the trio were probably still up, so I headed upstairs to the penthouse. I needed to talk to Gabby.
I rang the door to Nyla's room - I could tell someone was there because the music was thumping, albeit far more reasonable since our run in last week. After the second time I rang the bell, the door opened and Chloe answered it. She was looking adorable as usual, wearing her "Thing 2" t-shirt I had gotten her for Christmas.
"Oh hi, Jack! Come in. I was just playing with Mr. Bear!"
I came in, and Chloe was the only one in the apartment. There was porn on the TV, the music was bumping, and there was Chloe's giant stuffed bear, laying in front of the TV. Somebody, and it should be obvious who, had put a giant black strap on dildo on the bear, and I could see the wetness glistening all over the black rubber.
"You were playing with the bear?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
She giggled. "Yes, Mr. Bear loves to play with me," she said. "The others were gone and I was missing them, but Mr. Bear helped me out!"
"I'm trying to find Gabby, Chloe, do you know where she is?" I asked. I kind of wanted to watch Chloe "play" with her bear, but this was pretty urgent.
"Oh, she, Lucy and Nyla are down in the basement training facility, near the shooting range, working out."
"At midnight?" I asked. This was weird.
"This is what they like to do sometimes. I don't like working out the way they work out, though. It hurts." She said.
I didn't really want to dig anymore, so I just gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and headed for the door.
"Bye Jack!" She turned and bounced over to her bear. I thought I heard her say something like "Time to fuck my ass, Mr. Bear!" as I closed the door, but it could have just been my imagination.
I got in the elevator, waived my key fob over the sensor and headed down to the sublevels to find Gabby, Nyla and Lucy.