Life Outside The Elysium Ch 15

This is another chapter in Part 2 of a series that began with Life in the Elysium, which you can find

here.

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 male bisexuality, interracial sex, light incest, group sex and other taboo subjects that not everybody may be into. I do my best to accurately tag the story, so check those tags in advance to see what you can expect from each specific chapter. If anything in the tags bothers you, there's an entire site here filled with things you may prefer more. In any event, thanks for reading!

Author's Note

: To reiterate what I wrote last story - for those asking about timing of new chapters and how long the story will be, here's what you need to know. Part 1, Life in the Elysium, was 20 chapters. Part 2, Life Outside the Elysium, is on pace to be 20 chapters as well, and I am hoping to have this part of the story arc wrapped up by the end of February. That's five more chapters this month. After that, I'm planning on taking March off for spring break, and then we'll start the final part of the three-book arc, Part 3, in early March. It will be called "Life in the Oasis" as I think we've been teasing here for a while now, as Jack takes over the new hotel and we conclude the story. Thanks for all the likes and follows, and I hope you're still enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

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Gabby was the first to reach Jack after his head hit the table. Avery was stunned. One minute Jack was standing tall, giving speeches, making jokes, and the next, he had face-planted into a pile of crabs.

The table was covered with blood, Old Bay and bits of shell and crab guts. Jack had a nasty gash on his forehead, having come down on the business end of a blue crab shell that was lying in one of the discard piles on the table. Blood was pouring down his face, pulsing out onto the butcher block paper, and she thought she heard Professor Harker scream.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" Gabby yelled, seeing Diego immediately jump up and survey the room. She was kicking herself for letting her guard down, and she knew Diego would be, too. The entire point of them being in DC was to watch out for Jack. Hopefully he was just drunk and this wasn't another attack. Something was nagging at the back of Gabby's brain, though, something that made her think this wasn't a drunken stupor. Jack hadn't had that much to drink, honestly, and he was a big guy. A few beers shouldn't have done this to him.

The immediate need, before the paramedics got there, was to get this head wound under control. Gabby grabbed a handful of paper towels from the table and pressed them against Jack's forehead, trying to staunch the bleeding. She sat down next to him, and then reached over, plucking at Avery.

"Avery, which cup was Jack's cup?" Gabby shouted at her. Avery was just staring at Jack, her eyes wide, and Gabby had to shout at her again to get her to snap out of it and start doing what she was told. "Grab a paper towel and hold onto that cup, okay? Don't touch it with your fingers!"

Avery finally responded, finding Jack's cup, which still had half a beer in it, and wrapping it in a paper towel.

People in the restaurant had noticed what was happening, and some of them were standing up to get a better look. A few cameras had come out, filming what was going on. Diego looked around, and then realized he had better do the same thing, so he whipped his phone out and began recording a video of the crowd. Some people started making for the exits, taking advantage of the commotion to dine and dash, others just needing to get a breath of fresh air after seeing all the blood.

"Diego! Call Jeong!"

Diego looked back at Gabby, with a questioning look on his face, but didn't contradict her. He finished recording the room, trying to get as many people in the crowd as possible, and then he dialed the number Special Agent Jeong had given their security team last week.

Gabby knew Jack was probably okay -- the wound on his forehead was bloody, but head wounds always bled a lot. He was going to need stitches, likely, and unless the ER doc was really good, he was going to have a scar to remember the evening by. The bigger question was why he passed out -- was he sick? Was he drugged? Was this an accident, or was this another attack?

The flow of blood had slowed, but Jack looked really pale now, and his breathing was coming in short gasps. Gabby was starting to get concerned, but a few moments later paramedics burst through the door. She stood up, letting the professionals get involved. Soon they had him off the picnic table bench, strapped to a stretcher, and began hauling him into the back of the ambo.

Gabby told Diego to head to the hospital with Jack and Avery, who climbed into the back of the ambulance, while Gabby stayed at the scene.

The rest of their crew -- Maggie, Molly, Sarah Harker, Ben, and Claire -- had been standing back, watching the scene unfold with slowly mounting horror. Gabby calmed them down, had them clean up in the bathroom, and they all waited for Special Agents Jeong and Worden to arrive.

The red flashing lights faded, as the ambulance peeled out, heading to MedStar Georgetown University Hospital, a few miles down Wisconsin Avenue. Gabby stared, watching as it faded into the darkness of the night.

How could this have happened?

* * *

I don't know how I got here. The cool silk sheets on the bed felt glorious under my back, although I had an odd pain in my forehead. But I wasn't focused on pain. I was focused on pleasure. The pleasure that I was feeling in my crotch.

"Oh my God, Jack, this is amazing..." the voice said. I was laying on my back, my hands held down by the beautiful woman who was riding my cock for all it was worth. I could feel her breath on my face, her hair dangling down to brush lightly against my mouth, my chin, and my neck. The feeling was like nothing I'd ever felt before, which was odd, because I'd fucked just about anyone and everyone these past few months. This was the best it had ever been.

My eyes seemed glued shut, however, and I could only feel, not see. This heightened the experience, and it let me just focus on my nerve endings, the feeling of her body on mine, my body in hers, hair, lips, breasts thumping heavily into my chest. I could feel the prick of metal, and I knew those tits were pierced. It was a sexy feeling, especially as she held me down, and began to smother my face with kisses. Her lips were all over mine, pushing, tugging, her teeth nipping at me, her tongue tracing the contours of my face.

My cock was surrounded by heat, gripped tight in her pussy. I was barely moving my hips, her powerful legs pushing her pussy up and down on my cock, working it like a master, every grind pushing me deeper and deeper inside her.

The more she talked, the more I recognized the voice. It wasn't Avery's - I could tell from her smell and from the way her hair fell on me, that this wasn't my love's body. I knew how she felt as well as I knew anything. This was someone I'd never fucked before. It was amazing, and the mystery added to the thrill.

"Jack, you don't understand..." the voice began again. "I've waited for this... for so long... to feel your cock inside me..." it said, and I could hear the longing, the aching in it. It made me ache, made me want to please, made we want to give this voice, this woman, what she wanted. "Please Jack, fuck your mother... fuck me harder... I need you, all of you!" she shouted.

My eyes snapped open.

No. This couldn't be happening. I'd told her no. I'd told her we couldn't do this. First, because it was illegal. Later, because Avery wouldn't understand. Finally, because I didn't want it. Not anymore.

But that didn't matter. My body was betraying me. Every part of me wanted this, was reacting to this. My cock was as hard as granite, and my mother was riding me like I was the first and last man on earth.

"Mom, no," I told her, trying to bring my arms down, but I couldn't get them to move. They were too weak, her hold was too strong. "We can't do this."

"Jack, you know you want this," another voice said. I turned my head and looked over, noticing the cuck chair beside the bed. Sitting there, in all his sartorial splendor, was Sol Sinclair. His gleaming, bald, ebony head was shining in the light. I could see a hint of mocking in his eyes. On his left knee was Nyla, my future step-sister, and she was fully nude. On his right knee was Miles, my future step-brother, and he was equally nude, his cock hanging long and limp between his legs. Sol had his arms wrapped around both of them, and they were staring at me, their eyes wide, watching my mother and I on the big bed.

"Boy, why did you wait so long?" Nyla asked, looking at me intently. "Why not just give your mother what she wants? Doesn't she deserve it?"

Miles was looking at me with those sad eyes of his. "I wish I was you right now, Jack," Miles said. "I'll never get to experience what you're experiencing right now."

I realized he wasn't talking about fucking my mom -- I knew he'd been with her, they all had. He was talking about fucking his own mom, Lena, who had been dead for a decade. What a morbid, maudlin thought. Who thinks that way?

Sol looked on approvingly. "Give her what she wants, Jack. Fuck Emily. For her and for me. I'd do it myself, but as you can see, I'm a bit preoccupied," he said, smiling. Nyla leaned in and gave him a kiss, and I could see their tongues start to dance. Miles was looking on, and with her hands, Nyla reached out to stroke his cock, which had started to rise as soon as her fingers touched it. The whole Sinclair family was sitting there, together, fondling each other in incestuous glee.

"Don't watch them, lover," Mom said to me. She let my left arm go to take my chin in her hand and turn my face back towards her. I tried to move my arm down, but this was my wounded shoulder, and it didn't respond. Even without her hands on mine, I was powerless to resist. "Watch me. Watch me take what I've wanted."

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Another voice shouted. Nyla broke off her kiss with her father, and the three black beauties on the cuck chair all turned at the same time to see my girlfriend, Avery, standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

"What does it look like, dear?" Mom said, turning her head to stare at Avery, who was still standing in the doorway of the room, in shock. Mom picked up the pace, as if wanting Avery to see my cock sliding in and out of her pussy, the lewd show mocking Avery and her prudish dislike of sex and incest. "Jack finally decided between us. And he's chosen me!"

I looked at Mom with horror in my eyes. I had done no such thing. I loved Avery, I wanted Avery. I didn't want this. I tried to shout, tried to cry out, but my throat didn't want to work. All that came out was a moan, a long groan that sounded as much like pleasure as anything else.

"See, Avery? He loves this," Mom said. "There was no way you were ever going to be able to compete with me," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "I'm Emily Fisher, and I always get what I want. I always get WHO I want. And I've wanted Jack a long, long time."

"Honey? What are you doing?"

That voice. It couldn't be. That voice hit me like a tank. My eyes widened and I turned my head, desperately trying to see where it came from. Avery had taken a step forward, her eyes filled with tears, transfixed by the scene in front of her. Behind her, shorter than her by at least two hands, was a man, who stepped into the room, and looked on, innocently.

"Emily? Is that you? Who is that in the bed with you?" The man had short, blondish hair, the same shade as my own. His face was oval, eyes dark green below two furry eyebrows that marked the start of his high forehead. He had a ready grin, a face that was used to laughter and being laughed at, the face of a jokester. He was fit, but not athletic, wearing a dark black T-shirt with the Star Wars logo in bright yellow above a pair of sun-bleached blue jeans.

He took another step into the room, and every eye turned towards him. I was in shock.

"Is that... is that... Jack? Jack, my boy... you're all grown up!" He said. Then his eyes took on a faraway look, and I could see tears forming in them. "Em, how could you do this? How could you... have sex... with our son?"

"Oh, Jonathan, stop it. You knew, deep down, always knew, that you were never enough for me," Mom said to him. My heart skipped a beat when she said the name.

Dad. My dad. He was here. In this room. He'd been dead for twelve years, but somehow, he was here, in this room. Here, witnessing me fuck my own mother. My insides turned to ice, and the shame was enough to drown me.

"Besides," Sol said, his voice booming from beside the bed, as Nyla and Miles looked over at Dad, grinning like devils. "He's not really your son anymore, anyway, you cuck. He calls me Daddy now," he said, a throaty laugh filling the air. "Especially when he's sucking my dick," Sol added archly. He laughed again, and Nyla and Miles joined him.

I couldn't make my voice work. I couldn't put a stop to this. I wanted to. I wanted to talk to Dad, to tell him how much I missed him. There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell Avery I was sorry, that I didn't want this, that I didn't know what I was doing. Mom's pussy was still pulsing up and down on my cock. She'd never wavered, and no amount of trying could force the blood from my cock to end this.

"Emily, how could you..." Dad said, and I saw the two tears in his eyes fall, running down the sides of his nose and pooling above his lip.

"Jack, how could you..." Avery said, and I saw two tears from her eyes fall, coursing down her cheeks and splashing onto the floor.

Mom turned back to me, and looked at me, her eyes full of laughter. "See, Jonathan? He loves this. If he didn't, he'd tell me to stop. Is he telling me to stop? No... he's going to cum. Watch him cum, Jonathan... watch your son fill me up with his seed, while you stand there, powerless. Watch him..."

I felt my orgasm start to rise, my body betraying me again, and I closed my eyes. This was Hell. I was dead, and I was in Hell. It had to be. None of this made any sense, and I didn't want it to. I just wanted it to stop.

Please God, make it stop, I thought. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could make them. The blackness accepted me, and I started to feel like I was falling, falling off the bed, falling away from Mom, from Dad, from these demons that had been haunting me, and as quickly as the vision had begun, it faded into nothingness.

* * *

It was late Monday evening as Knox Reilly sat in his office, a few doors down from Vex Romano's, atop the Empire Luxe Hotel. His view wasn't as good as his boss's, but he didn't care. He didn't spend a lot of time looking out the windows. His desk was piled high with reports, tablets, his laptop, empty coffee mugs, half full bottles of water, multiple monitors connected to a desktop computer that saw as much use as the laptop, and the rest of the assorted detritus of a highly paid, highly stressed, highly placed functionary.

Reilly spent too much of his time here. He wasn't married, instead devoting his entire life to the Romano family and their success. It was here that he worked, here that he schemed, and here that he dared to daydream. His wild fantasies of watching Eva Romano fall in love with him, them getting married, and him taking over as Romano's successor when the old man inevitably kicked the bucket played out in his mind often. As the keeper of the Romano schedule, he knew without looking that Vex had awoken this morning with a smile on his face, his conjugal duties completed late the night before. Knox had always wondered what it would be like, watching a seventy-year-old man fuck his fifty-year-old wife. He guessed there was probably porn of that somewhere, but it was never more than a fleeting question mark in the air, not something he actually wanted to see, let alone contemplate.

Knox had plenty to contemplate without visualizing the boss in bed with his wife. Like the meeting that was going to take place in half an hour, down the hall.

When Dimitri Borodin had finally emerged from wherever he was hiding after the aborted assassination attempt on the President, the first thing he'd apparently done was reach out to Knox to beg for a meeting with Romano. Knox was more than happy to take that note of supplication to his boss, who granted it with a flick of his wrist. Romano had been waiting for the ask for nearly two weeks. Whatever Borodin had needed to do -- or, given that it was Borodin, whatever and however much he needed to drink -- he must have finished, because he'd finally surfaced to beg the chance to explain himself, preferably on his knees, to Vex.

Knox sat behind the desk, trying to tidy the piles of work into some kind of a workable stack, which he would continue on with in the morning. For now, he needed to get his head straight before Borodin arrived. He logged into his computer and set up the video and audio recording for the meeting. From his workstation he had control over the vast AI that controlled the security cameras throughout the Empire Luxe -- this was the main reason he had the desktop, as it had to be hardwired into the Empire Luxe's systems and had no access to the internet or outside networks. With a few taps, he told the systems to capture the meeting that would begin in twenty minutes time now in cinema format.

Vex's office was wired for sound and video, cameras covering every angle, and microphones embedded in the walls. Vex was a stickler for records. He wanted audio and visual records of every meeting, no matter how sensitive. Knox had always scratched his head at this -- the man who was so paranoid he refused to use email or cell phones, was the same man who wanted movie-quality productions of all of his meetings.

The AI had been refined steadily over the years. It could zoom in on faces, capture looks and movement, and the product it spat out was like watching a drama series on Netflix. Each person speaking getting tight, close-up shots, and Romano loved to watch his greatest hits over the years. Meetings with Governors, Senators, Congressmen, meetings with the former President, meetings with world leaders and other casino moguls. He had them all. If he ever released them -- and Reilly knew Romano had toyed with the idea -- they would win awards. It was like having Ken Burns make documentaries of your life, but it was done all by computer, and no one but Vex, Knox and a small knot of core advisors had ever seen any of them. Even Eva Romano didn't know about them. Maybe someday he'd show her, when she'd finally realized his worth.

"Knox, I'm so glad you're here," Eva said, standing in the doorway to Reilly's office.

Knox jerked, his hand slapping a half empty cup of coffee onto the floor. "Shit!"

"Oh, Knox," Eva said, crossing the room and picking up the mug, which thankfully had landed on a stretch of rug and hadn't shattered. Most of the coffee had landed on the hardwood of the office floor, though, and she quickly mopped it up with a handful of tissues plucked from a box on the edge of the desk.

"Eva! I was... I was just thinking about you," Knox said, guiltily, his hand shaking a bit. Eva Romano was here. In his office. Without him asking her, without hours of subtle maneuvering to make it happen. It was like a dream come true, but it couldn't have happened at a worse time. Borodin was going to be here any minute.