In the Garden of Eve

Who would've thought one could walk into a fantasy?

Not me, before this very moment. Casino Gomorrah certainly fit the bill, though. The huge tower put the Luxor in Vegas to shame! Gomorrah offered its patrons every sort of wicked indulgence. Nothing was considered sacrosanct. Good thing too, since to delve into vice remained my sole purpose for coming. I came to gamble, but not by participating in the cheesy parlour games like the other drones. I played for higher stakes - my very future. I'd come to fuck a couple of men for money. Lots of it, too. Not only that, but my husband had insisted on it.

The elevator took forever to reach the penthouse level. I exited quickly, my heels clacking on the white marble flags of the hallway. Thick ebony veins ran through the white tile like inky rivers. The floor seemed ripped whole from a Hellenic temple. With a name like Gomorrah, I'd expected brimstone and basalt for the decor. On second thought, perhaps the salt-white stone did belong here.

I shook my head to clear the idle thoughts that flickered inside. Ah, Eve. Reddish blonde hair didn't make someone genetically stupid. No time to space out now. Courage, girl! I had too much riding on this gambit. Bill wanted me to screw two men, Evan Summers and Adam DeWinter. These guys owned Phobos, a firm that needed American made high-tech weapons systems and small-arms for a concern out of Southeast Asia. They'd been in touch with Deimos, my husband's employer, for months now, and had flown here to sign the requisite papers.

The $3 billion deal would provide my retirement fund. That is, it would once they signed their names in the right places! Bill's cut would amount to almost $4 million, mine half of that. But before they signed anything, Summers and DeWinter insisted on entertainment in the style they'd become accustomed to while living overseas. Apparently, back home, people sealed big money deals with more than a gentleman's handshake. Provided that the evening's entertainment satisfied them, they agreed that the deal would go through tonight. If not, then not. I carried the contract in a slim leather document pouch.

I hadn't cared about Bill's and Deimos' problem with entertaining the Phobos reps until he told me about their list of requirements for the evening's amusement. The woman had to be depilatoried, 5 feet 6 inches tall, 110 to 120 pounds in weight, and have natural red hair and green eyes. She needed to possess a toned body and a large, sensuous mouth with full lips. I froze when I heard the description. If they had added a Tigger tattoo on the left hip bone, that would've described me right down to my clean-shaved snatch. Bill saw my hesitation, and played his trump card before I could even voice an objection.

He knew I had slept around behind his back last year but had, I thought, forgiven me for my indiscretion. I hadn't loved Eric, I had loved the excitement gleaned from doing naughty things with him. And Bill had gone away on business for almost three months! Didn't I have needs to satisfy? Bill had forgiven, but apparently he hadn't forgotten. Now he threw the episode back into my face. If I could fuck around on him, he maintained, I could certainly fuck around for him. My protests fell on deaf ears. What could I say, really? To him, I had proved myself to be a faithless whore. No, not just a whore. An incredibly stupid whore. Smart ones at least got paid for spreading their legs. Only dumb cunts like me would give up the ass for free.

My entire future lay tucked under my arm, swaddled in a couple of pounds of black calfskin.

I stopped in front of the gleaming oak door, using its high-polished surface as a mirror to adjust my hair and clothes. I wore black strappy sandals, leopardskin print Capri pants, a silvery-white, midriff revealing halter with a high neck, and a smile. No panties, no bra, and no jewellery of any kind. I didn't want to be hindered by undergarments, nor did I want to be robbed. Funny, worrying about a few hundred dollars worth of jewellery when you stood to make a couple mil, but there you have it. I didn't know these men. Who knew what they could do? Except for a pen and the contract, only a cell phone lay nestled in the doc case. Bill had insisted that I carry it, but really, would I have time in an emergency to get it out and use it? Doubtful. Bill didn't care one way or the other. I guess his disgust with me finally outweighed his love for me.

Steeling my courage and pushing up my large tits so they looked their best, I rapped loudly on the door.

Nothing.

Hadn't they arrived? I'd been instructed to come up at eight pm sharp. I took a deep breath as I used the card key Bill had given me on the electronic lock, twisted the door handle and let myself into the palatial suite.

Never before had I seen a room as luxurious as this one. Rich woods and brass decorated everything. The walls hung with tasteful oil paintings. The place had the feel of an Edwardian manor. Ancient Greek decor on the outside, English elegance in the rooms. Inconsistent, but who cared? I ducked my head into every open doorway I found. The place stretched on forever! It took almost five minutes to search the rooms. I found no one. While going through the parlour, I spied an open door leading outside. I darted through it and onto the penthouse roof.

The roof looked as extravagant as the rooms had. This time, the decor was Amazon Basin, perhaps Lacandon Jungle. Thick, heavy vines climbed trellises on either side of the pathway, their twining strands creating a barrier more solid than walls. Large red clay urns held flowering plants with blooms as large as my head, some as tall as me, too. The well-kept garden looked unusual to say the least, but quite beautiful. I followed the stone walkway, my steps illuminated by the running lights angled low at the ground. I finally reached a clearing, half expecting to see a pond or some such thing. I wasn't disappointed. Two people lounged around an artificial lagoon. A black man sat on a wrought iron divan with black leather cushions, exuding casual arrogance while he sipped on a goblet of water. At his feet sat a nicely tanned, beautiful woman, stroking his left leg with a delicate touch while she held a flute glass of champagne. She looked resplendent in her golden cocktail dress and gold, Grecian laced high heeled sandals. Already deep in conversation, they ignored my approach.

I hadn't realized that there'd be another woman in attendance this evening. I guess this was a good thing as she could concentrate on one of the men, and I could concentrate on the other. Where was the other guy, anyway? I wondered what she was being paid. I'm sure not as much as I'd get if I pulled this off! Something bothered me about her, though. She didn't look like pussy-for-hire to me. She stroked that leg with a proprietary air. It was also the first time I'd ever seen a woman sitting on the ground still look like a queen. Elizabeth II on her throne couldn't look more regal.

The man was no slouch in the looks department, either! His well defined body set my pulse racing the moment I laid eyes on him. He dressed in light grey slacks, black leather boots and a black golf shirt. The short sleeved shirt showed off his arms, though they looked like the work of a drunken, brilliant sculptor. For every graceful line of muscle and sinew on display, he had at least two scars crossing his arms as if the master craftsman had often slipped when chiselling him from a block of Desert Ironwood. He didn't look like a CEO of a company. He looked more like a Marine to me, with his short, skin-faded hair and his no-nonsense demeanour.

I walked up to the pair who still hadn't acknowledged my presence. Feeling awkward as a virgin at an orgy, I cleared my throat and spoke, directing my words to the handsome black man.

"Hello. Are you Mr. DeWinter, or Mr. Summers?"

He looked up at me with a patient smile. "She's Miss Summers. I'm Mr. DeWinter. Nice to meet you, Eve." Though he addressed me directly, he didn't really focus his attention upon me. He made no effort to rise or to offer me his hand. His friendly tone didn't jibe with his all-business attitude. It didn't matter, since my mind still reeled from the shock.

"She's Evan Summers?"

"No, she's Eden Summers," he corrected. Come here."

Eden. Not Evan. Had Bill known, or had he made a grievous error?

No, that bastard knew.

He'd often teased me about my prudish stand on lesbianism. A hot piece of ass like me shouldn't live in the '50s, he always said. I knew he fantasized about having me and another woman go down on him and then do each other for his pleasure, but I'd never complied with his deviant desire. I didn't even like thinking about lesbian sex, much less participating in it. He wouldn't dare set me up this way, would he?

Well, after the Eric Affair, I believe he would.

"Eve." The low, soft voice sliced through my thoughts like a scream in church during the sermon. "Never make me repeat myself." He pointed to a low stone table, one cut from a single block of marble with a recessed glass top. "Stand upon that," he commanded. I placed a high-heeled foot upon the table, unsure as to what they expected of me next. "Stop," he said. I froze, one foot on the raised dais, the other on the paving stones of the roof top. The stretched leg posture pulled my Capris tightly into the crack of my ass and between the lips of my quim, dormant right now, but working up as the pant crease pressed upon my clit. Summers and DeWinter stared at me, their eyes caressing my grey sheathed legs and my petite feet encased in ebony strips of Latigo leather. Without a touch, I felt myself lubricate. My ass twitched uncontrollably.

"Proceed," he said, three years later. I clambered on top of the low table, standing with my head bowed and my hands clasped together over my quickly dampening crotch.

"Are you new at this?" he asked. It surprised me how much scorn he invested into five short words. My face flushed. "Move around a little. Let us get a look at the goods." I reddened as I moved, stiffly, I'm sure. He spoke further commands for me. Push out my breasts. Spread my legs. Strut for them. Bend over and wiggle my ass in their direction as I grabbed my ankles. He put me through my paces like a show dog at competition. I'd come here to fuck, sure, but I felt subhuman doing all of this Bitch on Display crap. It'd be so much easier if he'd just throw me across that black leather divan, spread my legs, and shove himself inside me until he came. That's what I'd expected to happen tonight. Isn't that what whores did, fuck, get paid, then leave? Why all this preamble?

"You really are new at this, aren't you?"

"Of course not," I said defensively. Adam quickly poured some scotch into a crystal tumbler, then handed it to me. My hands shook so much, I could barely hold it. The amber liquid sloshed over my fingers. Its reek made my eyes water. "I don't drink hard liquor," I told him.

He looked at me like I was a bitch that had just piddled on his fine Persian rugs. His thick lips pursed in distaste. "You didn't before today. Drink. It'll help you to relax."

I finished the burning liquor in a couple of gulps, trying to force it down so I wouldn't have to taste it. Bad move. Instead, it fried my nostrils worse than any wasabi-rush I've ever experienced eating sushi. The glass tumbler did just that, shattering into a glittering panorama that competed with the twinkling celestial display above.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I knelt to the ground, ready to pick up the shimmering fragments. Adam's dark, strong hand tightened around my pale, slender wrist and drew me upwards.

"Don't worry about it. Here." Adam passed me a second glass of scotch. I took it with a steadier hand, my nerves stabilized from the earlier dousing from the oblivion-bringing urine substitute. The stuff smelt vile, but sure did work quickly! "Just sip on that," he said. "No one shoots back Caol Ila."

I leaned against the stone table as I sipped my drink. The woman, Eden, hadn't moved from her position on the ground, but she'd not been idle. She'd rubbed that leg of his so much, I'm surprised she hadn't worn a hole through it. During my show she'd loosened Adam's belt. She now pulled it out from its belt loops, folding the black leather strap in half as she presented it to him across both of her upturned palms. She tilted her head down, staring directly at the generous bulge of his crotch. As he took the belt from her, his hand stroked her shoulder length auburn hair as one would a kitten's fleece.

"Suck me," he said softly. No more than that. She must've been waiting for that command all evening. She surprised me with her rapid compliance. She lunged forward, unzipping him quickly and liberating his thick, flaccid cock from his smoke-grey pants. She leaned forward, her obscenely stretched mouth capable of taking all of his cock inside. Lewd slurping caressed my ears as she worked him over. She knelt in front of him, her gold sandalled feet crossed at the ankles, her petite hands grasping him about the waist as her face bobbed back and forth in front of his groin. She worked his cock with a frenzy I could never match! Nothing in his demeanor showed him to be enjoying her. His flat eyes looked like someone's who had a fresh sirloin steak dropped onto his plate seconds after he had finished gorging on a 20 ounce T-bone. The head session didn't seem to excite him in the least. But did he have to stare at me like that? For some reason, I felt incredibly embarrassed. Why? It wasn't me on my knees shoving my mouth full of hard black cock. Not yet, at any rate.

"What are you thinking?" he asked. How could his voice sound so calm while he got his cock sucked? Incredible.

"I don't understand why I'm here. You definitely don't need me. Eden's beautiful."

"She certainly is. But so are you. Why don't you join her?" He stretched out his hand to me in invitation. I rose from my seat on the table, happily setting my unfinished drink upon it as I took his hand. Eden didn't look up from her work. His cock glistened with her spit as she forced him into her rapidly working mouth. It amazed me how well she serviced him. Her lips were stretched taut by the black iron bar which filled up her entire throat. Breath whistled through her nose as she consumed him. She certainly couldn't breathe through her mouth, not with that cocoa skinned creature lodged into it. His meat was as thick as a tin of deep brown beans, and only a little longer than that. Squat and thick, just the way I liked them. I wondered if he tasted as sweet as beans in molasses as well? I smiled at the thought.

My gaze quickly slid back to him as I saw him move. He grasped his leather belt in both of his hands, which now moved towards me. I shied away. He dropped one end of the strap so he could grab me and pull me back towards him. His steely grip on my forearm kept me from bolting. "I'm not going to strike you with it. Relax." His low, hypnotic voice eliminated all resistance. I stepped forward. He collared me with his belt, sliding the thick silver buckle home to rest against my Adam's apple. Even my throat belonged to him, named after the forbidden fruit his namesake had sampled eons ago. The same fruit my namesake had first fed him. Just as I hoped he'd sample me, the wife of another man. Sin, upon sin, upon sin. He snugged the belt against my throat. He used the makeshift leash to gently pull me toward him, and then to force me down upon my knees next to Eden. Eden glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, but didn't stop sucking Adam's cock.

I knelt in my garden just as I had in time immemorial, preparing to accept the seed of the man I'd been commanded to serve and obey.

"Give her some room, Kitten. Let Eve have a taste." Hearing this, Eden stood up, but not before pulling Adam's pants down around his ankles and making him step clear of them. She moved around him, positioning her face between his taut asscheeks, and pushed her face forward, splitting them apart. The wet sounds I heard earlier recommenced. She couldn't be doing what I thought she was, could she?

Oh yes, yes she could! Adam's cock pulsed, threatening to slap him in the belly with every beat of his heart. A deep sigh escaped him as Eden worked between his asscheeks. One of her hands snaked around and grabbed him by the cock, jerking it roughly as she speared his anus with her pointy pink weapon. Her crimson-tipped fingers couldn't even close around it.

"Suck me," he said cooly, in direct contrast to the sharp tug he gave to my belt leash. I fell forward and smacked my cheek against his turgid black cock, a wet sound caused by the glistening spit still upon his dusky skin. Drops of precome dribbled out of his cockslit, flowing freely onto Eden's pale jerking hand. Another tug on the leash pulled me forward, the blunt end of his cock bludgeoning my front teeth and threatening to bruise my pouty lips. I opened my mouth wide, ready to accept him but the spit slickened skin, skin moistened by the loving mouth of another woman, stopped me. l pulled my head back. He'd have none of that. He released his hold on the leash and captured my head between his strong hands. He drew me forward, forcing me onto his cock. I could either accept him, or have my front teeth staved in by his cock.

I opened my mouth wide for him.

His cockhead fed into my mouth, depressing my tongue. My mouth stretched around his girth, feeling like it'd split at the corners. With time, I'm sure I could've adjusted to the feeling. He didn't give me that time. He lunged forward with his hips, skewering my mouth. I couldn't back up as his hands still gripped me tightly. I could only swallow him.

Eden released her grip upon him. He tried to force the freed-up inches into my mouth, but I couldn't handle cock as thick as his. If you rolled three Bill-sized pricks together, they still wouldn't equal Adam's sausage in thickness. I coughed up around him. Adam didn't seem to care. He forced even more licorice stick down my throat. Too bad for him. I couldn't handle it. I choked around him, sending gouts of spit and mucous flowing around his prick and down my chin. I frantically slapped at his hips and legs in a vain attempt at making him release my head.

I don't know how, but I managed to stop myself from vomiting. God, that would've been something! I'd not given a very impressive performance thus far. I hoped Adam wouldn't sink the deal because of it. My heart slammed up against my ribs, racing with worry.

"Don't push her, hon. It's no good if you make her pass out," Eden said, taking a brief respite from her anal endeavours. I couldn't see her from around Adam's waist, but her husky voice sounded clear. I guess she'd pulled out from his ass long enough to give me some much-appreciated moral support. Surprisingly, Adam released my head and moved his arms behind him. Grabbing Eden's head instead, he leaned forward and pulled her in. I heard a muffled noise, then the wet sounds of anal loving recommenced. He worked her face against his ass roughly. My respect for Eden grew. She made sucking his gargantuan cock look easy. She also took some of the heat off of me.

"Get back to work," he said coldly. I'd rather suck him by choice than be forced, so I complied. I took him back in, as deep as his cock would go. Not too damn far, I'm sorry to say. I concentrated on pleasuring his cockhead, nibbling around the corona of his glans. I used both my hands on him as well, pumping his cock as I massaged his balls. He seemed to like that. Done right, it should feel just as pleasing to him as deep throat. His eyes finally closed as he worked Eden's face up and down his ass crack. The Iceman was melting, finally. Probably due to his tail, and not my head, unfortunately. I couldn't believe how much noise she made back there. Eden certainly must have been enjoying her anal play!