This is the start of Part 2 of a series that began with Life in the Elysium, which you can find here - https://www.literotica.com/series/se/494113320. I strongly suggest you read the first series before starting this one. For those who just skip to the sex scenes, there will be no issue if you pick up here, but if you want to understand and enjoy the plot more fully, please take some time to read the series, as it will make more sense.
Be aware, this series includes a variety of adult situations, including bisexuality, interracial sex, light 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 had been a whopping nineteen days since I had arrived by plane from Washington to Las Vegas to start the rest of my life. I had packed a lifetime of events, good and bad, into those nineteen days. The first part of our story began with me getting off a plane. This part of our story begins with me getting on one.
It was January 6th. Today was the start of the second session of the 122nd Congress. It was the anniversary of the insurrection of 2020. And it was the day I was flying home to Washington to finish my degree. My name is Jack Fisher. Twenty days ago, I was Jack Fisher, son of Emily Fisher and Jonathan Fisher (deceased), utility infielder for the Georgetown Hoyas, senior at Georgetown University majoring in business management, roommate to Ben, Washington Commanders fan, bisexual, single. Today, I'm Jack Fisher, son of Emily Fisher and future stepson of Solomon Sinclair, a Vice President of the Sinclair Group, adult film star, hero of the Shootout at the Empire Luxe, still a Commanders Fan, bisexual, and dating smoking hot reporter Avery Locke.
It still amazed me how much life I managed to pack into a mere nineteen days. It all started when I came home to Las Vegas to find my mom was engaged to be married to Vegas casino mogul Solomon Sinclair, whom she'd been working for the last two years. After meeting my new family, which included stepbrother Miles and stepsister Nyla, I found the family was a lot... closer... than I had expected, and Mom was suddenly interested in me in a physical way. After some initial friction with Mom and with my future stepsister, we all bonded, and Sol gave me a job as a Sinclair Group VP, contingent on my finishing school, as a Christmas gift. A few weeks earlier, the Las Vegas Tribune Review began a smear campaign against Governor Silas Prescott, accusing him of a decade long incestuous relationship with his sister. Sinclair, a rising star in Vegas and the owner of the hottest adult - emphasis on adult - casino in Las Vegas, the Elysium, was roped in by virtue of his relationship with the Governor and rumors of his own questionable relationships with his family. The Trib, led by ace investigative reporter Avery Locke, authored scathing articles denouncing the Governor's incest - an open secret in Las Vegas - and attacking Solomon Sinclair for the rumors about his own relationships. She then exposed Mom and I for our own sexual behavior, after sneaking into the Vespers nightclub in the Elysium and snapping photographs of Mom and me in flagrante delicto. After revenge porn of me leaked from the same session Avery had snuck into, which led to my first porn film being released in its entirety, Avery met with me to assure me she had nothing to do with it, and that act of kindness got her fired from the Tribune Review. I had a crush on Avery, which I acted upon, and soon we began dating. She realized she was just a pawn in a larger scheme and converted to our cause. A new pressure group, the Anti-Debauchery League, was founded in Vegas and began to protest all the hotels in the city thought "too indecent for Las Vegas," including the Elysium. A spy within the ranks of the Sinclair organization was found who had been leaking information about the Group to persons unknown but linked to the ADL. We used him to plant bad information for his handlers as a means to smoke out who was targeting the Governor and us. Our investigations led to a handful of people, most notably Sheldon Weissman, the publisher of Avery's old newspaper. All of this came to a head on New Year's Eve, at the Nevada Association of Resorts and Casinos Gala dinner, when the ADL apparently tried to assassinate Governor Prescott, attacking my family, killing the spy in our organization and Sheldon Weissman, our lead suspect. Sol and I thwarted the attack on our family, but we weren't quick enough to save everyone. Our investigation back at square one, Avery took a job in Washington to be closer to me as I headed back to DC to finish my degree.
And that's where we are today, as I got ready to climb aboard the Sinclair Group's new corporate jet, headed to Washington Reagan National Airport. My girlfriend Avery joined me on the trip, alongside my assistant, Claire Hoskins. Sol, Mom, and Nyla rode with us to the airport, along with Diego, one of the family bodyguards. I had packed light on the way here, as I was just coming home to visit mom for Christmas, and my carryon home was just slightly heavier, with clothes I brought, a new suit and shirt, and a P229 pistol. I was not going to go back home unarmed after what happened at the Empire Luxe. Claire brought two suitcases worth of clothes and a laptop. Avery brought everything she'd managed to save from her apartment after it was ransacked a few weeks ago by the ADL, which was mostly clothes, a few books, and some photographs. She hadn't replaced her laptop, stolen in the attack, and I could tell she was a bit of a minimalist when it came to living quarters. That was fine with me because I was the same way. Mom had never stayed in the same place long, constantly working, staying in corporate housing and we'd not really had a home since Dad died. I'd been living in dorms or hotel rooms of one kind or another for most of my life at this point.
My apartments at the Elysium are my home now. But, for the next six months, I'd be back in the dorm at Georgetown, and then all the hotels we'd be staying in during baseball season. I doubted any of them would be as nice as home.
Baseball season. Workouts. Classes. Studying.
After the last two weeks, could I go back to anything so pedestrian? The attack on the Governor had made national news, and if I wasn't known for the porno, I was certainly known for the shootout now. Sol and I had been hailed as heroes, lauded in the Tribune Review, all over the local news and even some national outlets. We'd saved lives, according to the press, and it certainly hadn't hurt the Elysium's bookings. Nobody had asked why we'd been armed, or why the bad guys had targeted us specifically, though. For my part, I thought Sol was the hero. He, at least, could shoot straight. If I had been quicker, Biggs, the spy who gave his life to save Sol's, might still be alive. That split second, when my shot hit the shooter in his arm but after he'd taken two shots at Sol, kept replaying itself in my head over and over, the stuff of nightmares. Those, I'd had more than my fair share of. Sol told me it was PTSD. He had it, too. Every night since New Year's Day, I'd relive those fatal moments. Sometimes I'd wake with a shout, and Avery would hold me until the shakes passed.
The Escalade pulled into one of the fixed base operators that made up the general aviation area of Harry Reid Airport. Sol told me that he'd recently authorized the purchase of the corporate jet - the Elysium had just had its best year since it opened, and he could now justify the expense. In addition to ferrying corporate employees around, he said it was going to be used to bring VIPs to and from the hotel from around the world. I was excited, not only because I'd never flown on a private jet before, but because I was going to be the first to fly in the Sinclair Group's new Gulfstream 6.
The car stopped, and we all climbed out. Diego and I went around to the back to get the luggage.
"Stay safe, Jack," Mom said to me, wrapping me in a big hug. "Finish school and come home to me. I hope you'll take advantage of the jet to get home more often than you have been," she chided. "Don't be a stranger, okay? You've got responsibilities here at the hotel now."
"I'll do my best, Mom," I replied. "You know baseball sucks up most of my time in the spring semester. Once February hits, I'll be gone most weekends," I told her. This was not going to be the case, but I had no way of knowing that when we left Vegas. Mom was going to get her wish. Mom always got her wishes. Which was going to be one of the very few potential sticking points in my relationship with Avery, as far as I could tell. Mom wanted me, and she intended to have me. So did Avery, and I knew Avery did not want me and Mom together sexually now and probably would never approve of it. I knew this issue was going to come to a head at some point, but right now, in January, all of that seemed extremely far away.