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.
By the time Lionel and I got back to the Elysium, it was almost midnight. I'd met Avery around ten and we'd walked and chatted for a while. I still couldn't shake the feelings she stirred in me, even as she walked away. I've never been in love before, so I had no idea how it felt. What I did know was that while she had said she couldn't see me again while I was a target of her reporting, that wouldn't last forever. She had even called me a nice guy. I planted a little seed of hope in the back of my mind that "can't see you again" didn't mean "don't want to see you again," and that maybe when this whole thing with the Governor was over and the rest of the stuff going on was old news, she'd be willing to change her mind.
If I had realized at the time how much things were about to change between Avery and I, I would have been much, much happier. But I was sitting at the bottom of a deep pit of despair, and I couldn't find a way out. I went up to my rooms, Lionel clocked out at the security station - Biggs, of all people, was standing there, alongside another security guard who was apparently doing the actual work - and I went to bed.
The next morning I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and hopped in the shower. It was early, before six in the morning. I wanted to clear my thoughts in the shower, work out, hit the shooting range, take another shower, and then head down to the 13th floor.
Today was Monday, December 29. New Year's Eve was in two days, and the first day of the new year would mark my second week at the Elysium Hotel. My whole life seemed to have changed in that two weeks, and maybe it was the new year approaching, or maybe it was what happened with Avery, or all of the other sex I'd been having, but I was starting to think about the last few weeks and my behavior.
The water was hot and steam rose from it, as I stood underneath the pressure of the showerhead. The shower has always been a thinking spot for me. I like long showers - especially with a partner - and I do some of my best thinking in there.
I was looking back over my behavior over the last few weeks, and a small kernel of anger was building in my chest. Since I got off the plane the week before Christmas, I felt like I had done nothing but react to what was happening around me. I had just blindly accepted Sol's gift of Misaki that first night - that could easily have blown up in my face if Sol had wanted it to. The next day, I'd let Miles take the lead in our hook up. The Trio had practically torn my clothes off, twice. Mom and Sol had clearly orchestrated our tryst. The porn shoot wasn't my idea, nor was the women's gym or the sauna. The cum walk had been my idea, and it was a good idea, but it was still me walking around with another guy's jizz on my face. Watching my Mom get gangbanged, Nyla and Lucy in the gym, Nyla bossing me around with Gabby in her bedroom, Misaki after dinner - other than my Christmas present to Sol and ordering up Isabel that first full day here, maybe Paul at Vespers, and the two free use fucks I'd had on Friday, almost every one of the sexual things I'd done, I'd been passive. Someone else had started them, and I was just a willing participant or even just a passive watcher. Don't get me wrong, I was having a good time, and the sex was great, but was I acting like a man? Had this place turned me into some beta cuck who just watched his Mom get gangbaned, or let his step-sister boss him around?
I knew that wasn't who I was. I had never acted like this before, and while I joke about being naive, I consider myself to be pretty smart and worldly. I'd seen a few things in my days, and my education had prepared me pretty well. Back home, I was always the one taking the lead. Women and men weren't throwing themselves at me like they did here, and I had to work it to get laid. Hell, even Ben had resisted my advances when we first started living together, but I think that was more him being in the closet and scared than him wanting to play hard to get.
Then I thought about everything else. I had a new job, but I hadn't earned it. That was Sol's doing. Maybe he was grooming me to take over the Group someday, but I'd done nothing to earn my position here other than be Emily Fisher's son. I had discovered Biggs was the mole, but that was pure dumb luck. It wasn't my initiative that caught him - I was just bored and wandering around the hotel. I had no idea what I was going to do here at the Sinclair Group. Granted, I'd been on the job less than two business days - today was my second - but I was passive here too. Even with Avery, she'd taken the lead in asking me to meet.
Was I a man? Or was I dumb kid, being led around by the dick, fucking anyone who showed an interest, getting on my knees for every guy who wanted a mouth on their cock? Was this who I was now?
The kernel of anger in my chest exploded in a smoldering rage. I had 99 problems, and it seemed like being a bitch might be one.
That's not me. That's not who I am, and not the image I wanted to present to the world. I resolved - two days before New Year's - that I was going to take control of my life, stop letting people push me around - regardless of who it was, even Nyla, Miles, Mom, Sol, Avery or anybody else, and I was going to do the things that I wanted to do, not the things everybody else wanted. I'd lasso the moon if I felt like it, and be damned everybody else.
And it was going to fucking start today.
* * *
Nyla had gotten me a full English breakfast, which I ate a good portion of. Beans for breakfast always felt like something America should adopt, and the eggs, sausage and fatty back bacon went well with my coffee and OJ. I pushed the mushrooms around on my plate and totally ignored the tomato.
After eating, I hit the gym and did my 45 minute standard workout routine. I started with stretching and a light jog, then went to dead lifts and squats for weight training, some sprinting and ladder drills, and then planking for core strength and a cool down. I was starting to feel like my old self, going through the motions I'd done almost every day for years now. I toweled off, re-racked my weights and looked around.
It was a Monday, and the gym wasn't that full, especially this early. Most travelers in Vegas were late risers, for obvious reason, and the only folks down here now were either long-term guests or men who lived in the residences. I noticed a few people I had started to recognize, but nobody I actually knew yet. There were some good looking dudes in here, and if I had more time, I might have tried picking someone up, just to remind myself I could still do it. Instead, I went down to the sub-basement.
There's just something cathartic about throwing a couple of pounds of lead down range when you're feeling like you're not in control of anything. I was getting used to the P229. It felt good in my hands, and I was starting to tighten up my groups. Even if I felt like the security training we were provided was a bit overboard, I had to admit that having a gun range in my basement that I could use whenever I wanted (well, there were hours because you needed a range safety officer present to shoot, but you know what I mean) was almost as good as having access to sex workers and amazing breakfasts.
