📚 life outside the elysium Part 1 of 21
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INTERRACIAL EROTIC STORIES

Life Outside The Elysium Ch 01

Life Outside The Elysium Ch 01

by sinclairgroupllp
20 min read
4.61 (5400 views)
adultfiction

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.

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Sol came up and shook my hand at first, then pulled me close and wrapped me in a bro hug. I returned it. Sol and I had gotten much closer over the last month. He went from someone I'd seen on TV to my future stepfather, and then, after we'd been through so much together, a friend. Well, friend-with-benefits, I guess. He and I had been through what felt like a war together, and that had bonded us as closely as family. "Stay out of trouble, Jack. I mean it," he said, whispering closely. "This isn't over. Keep an eye on Avery and Claire. Finish that degree and get back here," he added. "I need you and your mother needs you." He clapped me on the shoulder, and I smiled at him. I couldn't tell if there was a double meaning to the last statement, but it made me feel good.

"That's my intent, Sol," I said to him, looking into his deep brown eyes. "You do the same with Mom, Nyla and Miles. I'll see what we can do in DC to help."

"Good man," he said, finally.

"Don't think you're just going to walk away from me, boy," Nyla said, pushing in, wrapping me in a big hug and planting a bigger kiss on my face. It was not at all a sisterly kiss, and Avery suppressed a smile at my discomfort. We were supposed to be keeping the family fun out of the public eye, but Nyla didn't seem to care. "Stay safe, and we'll see you at home in a few weeks for the services," she told me. Then, to Avery's surprise but not mine, she walked over to Avery, gave her a big hug and an equally big kiss. "You, too, Avery. Take care of him for me," she said. Then she gave Claire a quick peck on the cheek. "Make sure you feed those two, Claire. They'll never remember to eat otherwise." We all laughed at this.

Mom came up to Avery and gave her a kiss on the lips, which made Avery blush, and handed her a small box. She whispered something in her ear, which made her blush even more. I wondered what was in the small box but soon forgot about it.

Diego gave me a handshake and a wink, which made me grin, and then we went inside the terminal.

One of the nice things about private jets is you don't need to spend any time at the actual airport. You show up when you want, there's no TSA anywhere to be seen, no crowds filled with old people who last flew in the 1990s or parents with a half dozen screaming kids holding up the security lines, no gate lice standing around trying to get on the plane first so they can grab overhead bin space back in row 29, and all the rest of the bullshit that makes commercial travel such a pain in the ass.

We turned our luggage over to the staff at the terminal, who would load it on the G6. Sol, Nyla and Mom said goodbye, and we were met at the gate by the flight attendant who would be servicing our trip to DCA.

I smiled when I saw her: the tall, perfectly coifed, amazingly lovely Japanese woman who was a jack-of-all-trades at the Sinclair Group.

"Hello, Jack," Misaki said to me. "Hello Avery and Claire, so good to see you. I will be your attendant on this flight," she told us.

"Is there any job at the Sinclair Group you don't do?" I asked her. So far, she'd worked the concierge desk in the residences lobby, she'd been a server at Ciel Bleu, the restaurant in the hotel, when Avery and I had our first date, she'd been the centerpiece of our sushi dinner in Kazoku, the Japanese sushi restaurant in the hotel, and, of course, she'd helped out during the porn auditions. Oh, and she'd fucked me twice, and was my first taste of sex in the hotel, a gift of my future stepfather. Now, apparently, she was adding flight attendant to the list of her roles.

"Oh, no, Jack. This is all the same job. Whenever Mr. Sinclair needs the absolute best service, he calls upon me," she said, with a small smile on her face. "It is my pleasure to serve you."

Claire knew Misaki well, and I think Avery remembered her - clothed, from dinner and not-so-clothed, from the porn auditions. I saw her lick her lips, and I knew what she was thinking.

I was thinking the same thing. This could be an incredibly fun flight.

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The trip to DC would take a little over four hours. We could have a lot of fun in four hours.

Our group headed out of the terminal and onto the tarmac to where the G6 was parked. Gulfstream had introduced the G6 a few years ago - leaning into the song that had been a club staple for twenty years. I had never seen anything like it. After crossing the tarmac to the plane, I followed the women and was the last to board. The plane had a capacity of around twelve, with deep leather seats that could fully recline for sleeping on long-distance flights, a work area, and a couch in a lounge area. The cabin was just a little too low for me to stand up straight, so I ducked. Avery had half a hand of clearance and wasn't bent over like I was. Claire had no issues, nor did Misaki. The captain, a cute blonde, and the co-pilot, a short Black guy, shook our hands and welcomed us aboard.

When you stepped on the jet, the cockpit was on the left, and the passenger cabin was to the right. Turning right, you were met with a seat for the owner, then four seats, facing each other, two on each side. Beyond that on the left side was a three-seat couch along the fuselage, across from two seats that could swivel to face either each other or the couch. Behind those two seats, on the right side of the plane were another four seats, two facing each other with a small table between them, and a TV mounted on the bulkhead to the left. The galley was behind them, and finally at the back of the cabin was the lavatory. We took the seats in the first area. I was facing backwards, Avery across from me, and Claire across the aisle from Avery. I was in a sweatshirt and jeans. Claire was wearing a sweater and jeans, and Avery had on the cream oversized turtleneck sweater I loved her in and a Burberry pleated skirt I'd bought her before we left. The tan tartan matched her sweater, and I thought she looked ridiculously cute. Avery asked to use the bathroom and Misaki showed her to the back of the plane.

Misaki was wearing a standard white blouse and black pencil skirt that was basically the uniform at the Elysium. Around her neck was a deep blue silk scarf, and she wore a deep blue pillbox hat, trimmed in gold with a Sinclair 'S' logo on the side, resting atop her sleek black hair at a jaunty angle, her uniform for the flight.

"I could get used to this," Avery said, back from the bathroom, buckling in. I noticed she'd taken the box Mom had given her with her to the restroom. "This is super nice," she gushed. I, too, was blown away. Ten minutes later, Misaki had handed out glasses of champagne, the captain had walked us through the rules on the flight, done the flight safety instructions, and told us our travel time would be approximately four hours and seven minutes to Reagan National. Misaki took the owner's seat, directly behind mine. We taxied, and less than half an hour after we arrived, we left Vegas behind, climbing up to thirty thousand feet, five miles up, heading east across the country.

I loved flying, but Claire didn't. I could see her almost turn green when the pilots hit the gas on takeoff, the G forces pushing us deep into the leather of the seats.

"You going to be okay, Claire?" I asked her, taking a sip of my champagne. She nodded shakily.

"I just hate flying, Jack, sorry," she told me. "Never gotten used to it," she added.

"If you have to fly, this is the way to do it," Avery told her.

We were about half an hour in when Misaki stood up from her chair, and announced the in-flight entertainment was about to begin. I had no idea what she meant, but she suggested that we move to the lounge area of the plane, which was directly behind our seats. Claire didn't move, but Avery and I got up and took seats on the couch. Misaki went back to the galley area, which was separated from the rest of the cabin by a blue silk curtain.

"In-flight entertainment?" Avery asked, looking at me. I just shrugged. This was my first time flying private, so I had no idea what she was talking about. But, knowing this was a Sinclair Group airplane, and this was our last taste of the Elysium for a while, I had a pretty good idea what to expect.

The blue silk curtain pulled aside, and Misaki returned to the main cabin. She was no longer in her white blouse and pencil skirt. She was still wearing the scarf and the pillbox hat, above a deep blue cupless, backless bra and garter belt set. Her top was like nothing I'd seen before. A choker wrapped around her neck, disappearing under the scarf. The choker was attached by a thin band of silk to a lace inverted triangle that covered the skin between her two large breasts beneath them and wrapped around her back. Her breasts were completely exposed. Below, she had a deep blue garter belt attached to two dark blue sheer nylons, the same inverted triangle lace serving as the garters. There was a neat little bow tied at belly button height, where the belt part of the garter wrapped around her small waist. In true Elysium fashion, she wore no underwear, and her pussy was completely bare.

Misaki is one of the most beautiful people I know, a ten - a full Elysium ten, which is like a twenty on a one-to-ten scale anywhere else in the world. Her skin was pale white, her breasts the largest I've seen on a Japanese woman, her eyes big and brown and wide, red full lips and long, deeply brown hair, almost black, that fell like a sheet of water off her head. I remembered thinking during the porno auditions how hot it would be if I could ever get her and Avery together and here, without me even trying, it appeared about to happen.

I looked like a kid in a candy shop. Avery, for her part, gasped, then started to smile, and I even noticed Claire had turned around in her seat to see what Avery was gasping at. For the first time since we'd gotten in the air, her face showed something other than airsickness. Claire got up, and we made room for her on the couch. She was on my right and Avery was on my left, while I was sitting in the center.

Misaki walked to the counter below the television that was on her right coming from the galley, took the remote, and turned the TV on. She must have had this planned, because the TV turned on and "Like a G6" started blaring from it, the music video on the screen. She moved to the center of the lounge area, directly between the two seats across from the couch, and started dancing.

It was erotic as hell. I looked at Avery and she looked at me, and I put my arm around her. Claire put her arm around me, and we watched as Misaki gyrated to the thumping beat, her beautiful breasts on display, jiggling in time with her dance moves. As the song ended, I stood up and walked to Misaki. I put my arm around her and pulled her close, whispering "Are you up for some more?"

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