Chapter Fourteen

Jefferson Jiminez had never seen so many naked women in his life. Not in person, anyway. This was different than those gangbang videos, for sure. No doubt the girls here in this house, they weren’t as fine as the young, tight tramps you saw in the jerk-off movies. But damn! They sure were enthusiastic.

Tammy, the girl Mr. Doug and Mr. Lenny had set him up with – his “escort” they called her – smiled at him. “Nice, huh?”

“Oh, no doubt,” Jefferson said, smirking.

She leaned close to his ear. “Makes me sort of wet,” she whispered.

“That’s a good thing,” Jeff replied. “Most definitely.”

Tammy surveyed the room. “See anything you like? In particular?”

“Oh, for sure.” He had immediately spotted the petite Latina, with the slender waist, firm little buns and big, puffy blowjob lips. Black hair, brown skin, dark eyes – ay Chihuahua! She was with a dude, a good-looking muscular guy in a fashionably un-tucked black silk shirt and black pants. He looked aggressive, like those ‘roid freaks at Jefferson’s gym in Arizona.

But no worries, Jeff reminded himself. This was California, and this wasn’t no typical singles bar. It was OK to look at a dude’s lady. It was even OK to make a move on her – although Jefferson wasn’t completely sure how that worked. Mr. Lenny had told him that this was a special event, with – what did he call it? – with progressive people. People who had found their way, or some such shit.

In fact, Lenny had called them evolved. He had said, “You’ll see, Jeff, when folks get beyond their fears, anything’s possible. We’re talking about a group of highly evolved people.”

One of those evolved people, a handsome white woman in her 40s, bleached blond and waxed, starting to thicken in all the usual places but still alluring enough to arouse all but the most discerning libertines, was bent over the dining room table, with her short black skirt bunched up over her hips. A man in his 50s – pretty gross looking, Jeff thought, without much hair on his head and a big belly sticking out – was behind her, his hands grasping her ass cheeks, spreading her open. The man said something out loud to no one in particular, although couples gathered around the dining table all nodded and murmured. Jefferson caught the word “blessed.” And then he couldn’t believe was he was seeing: The man unzipped his fly, retrieved his dick, and stuck it in the woman with one thrust.

She moaned loudly (it sounded pretty close to a scream to Jefferson’s ears) while the man pumped. He couldn’t see the man’s face anymore; his head was tilted backward, as though he was trying to locate a mirror on the ceiling. But Jefferson supposed the guy had to have a look of pleasure, because he got faster and faster, and then, with a guttural groan, he appeared to come.

Then he pulled out, zipped up, and walked back to his wife.

Then another man, this one slightly younger, did the same thing. He didn’t last very long.

A third man stepped in. Jefferson clearly heard him declare, “I am blessed. I am grateful, and I am blessed!”

But before he could enter the woman, she rose up, laughing, and announced, “I need a break! Potty break.” Jefferson could see her breasts, large fake ones, pouring out of her unbuttoned blouse. She pulled her skirt down over her thighs, stepped away from the table, and rejoined her husband, who had been observing from a few feet away. Jefferson thought the dude didn’t look too upset, considering.

The happy couple left the room, arm-in-arm, like high school kids on a first date.

“Lucky girl,” Tammy said.

Jefferson laughed. “I guess.”

“Very lucky. And that,” she said, tilting her head to get Jefferson’s attention, “that is a lucky man.”

Leaning against the wall, a few feet to Tammy’s right, Jefferson saw a man about his age, maybe 30, with his pants down around his ankles, with two women, both of them brunettes, with long locks, licking either side of his cock. Sometimes their hair obscured his view, but most of the time Jefferson could see their most lips and darting tongues moving from his balls to his shaft.

Jefferson shook his head. “Whoah.”

Tammy leaned toward his ear, brushing her breasts against his arm. “Would you like that, papa? Hmm? Would you?”

Before Jefferson could think of something cool and composed, something suave, Tammy dropped to her knees, grabbed his ass with one hand, and went to his zipper with the other.

Technically, like, if you got technical about it, OK, yeah, Jefferson thought, yeah, I got a girlfriend. Although, if you thought about, maybe he and Jasmine weren’t totally serious or exclusive. Like they weren’t planning on getting married, or nothing. Plus, she was back in Arizona, and he was—

Tammy’s lips encircled his uncircumcised tip, and dealing with the Jasmine situation, he decided, was going to have to wait until later.

“Oh my god!” he heard himself exclaim. Bitch could really suck dick. Seriously.

People were watching, men and women. But he didn’t care. It didn’t freak him out totally, just a little. Actually, when a lady looked his way, watching him getting blown, it was sort of hot in a way. Like he was starring in his own movie.

Tammy looked up, holding his brown shaft against her fair cheek. “You like that? You like it, papa?”

“Oh, yeah,” he groaned. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

She chuckled. “You gotta say you’re thankful. Be thankful, Jefferson. It’s the way.”

“Oh, I am. Believe me.”

She licked his entire length. “Are you blessed?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Say it, then.” She licked him more.

Jefferson inhaled. “Yeah. I’m blessed. For sure.”

“We all are,” she said, taking him into her throat. No other girl had ever gone that deep on him. Jefferson was scared she would choke and bite his dick off. But, incredibly, she kept going deeper, all the way to his balls. He thought she might get his whole sack in her mouth.

Jefferson gripped the wall with both his hand. His knees were shaking.

Tammy removed him from her mouth, holding him with one warm palm. He looked down. His cock was slick with her saliva, some of which dangled from her chin, like a syrupy stalactite.

She screwed up her brow. “You know what? I think I need some help.” Tammy perched herself on her knees, like a prairie dog surveying the plains. She made eye contact with a smokin’ redhead leaning against the wall, close enough for Jefferson to touch. Tammy smiled at the woman and motioned with her head, indicating that the redhead should join her. The woman looked to her husband (or boyfriend, or whoever) and he nodded. The redhead joined Tammy on the floor.

“This, Jefferson, is a gift from Mr. Lenny and Mr. Doug,” Tammy said. “They want you to feel blessed. And most of all, they want you to forget all your past troubles. Forget about everything. Especially anything that has to do with the Painted Cave. Just forget – and enjoy!”

And then she fed his cock to the redhead, who devoured him in a few hungry strokes.

Tammy returned to his balls. A small group of couples, clinging to each other and touching intimately, gathered around the trio. Jefferson heard himself saying, “Oh, shit. Oh, my god. Damn!” And Arizona and everything that ever happened there seemed very far away.

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