Wicked Favor

  I can feel my orgasm starting to tingle as Helena brings a hand up to roll my balls. My head falls back with a deep groan and when I let it fall forward again, my gaze catches Trista standing in the doorway. She doesn't see me looking at her as her own gaze is riveted to where Steven is plowing his wife's ass. But then Trista's gaze slides slowly along Helena's body to where she's enthusiastically sucking my dick.

  My orgasm starts to burn hotter and as I dig my fingers into the side of Helena's head, I fuck her mouth faster. I keep my eyes locked on Trista, and she finally dares to look at me.

  My breath is coming out harshly, but I still manage to give Trista a wicked smile. She gives me nothing in return except wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth. She never does drop her gaze from mine and I'm guessing it's because she's too embarrassed to do so now that I caught her staring.

  But I know she wants to.

  I can also tell she wants to look more.

  I know this because I can see her chest rising and falling, and her cheeks are flushed. She runs her tongue over her lower lip a few times and her hands are clasped together so tightly her knuckles are white. Add onto that, she's fidgeting by stepping from foot to foot and pressing her legs together slightly. I'd bet my life if I were to stick my hand down the front of her jeans, I would find her soaking wet.

  And just the thought of my hand between her legs causes my climax to slam into me. I shove deeper into Helena's mouth and shoot my load straight down her throat with a long groan I know Trista can hear from across the room.

  Fuck... that felt good.

  Actually, I think that was the best orgasm I've ever had with Helena and I'm honest enough with myself to acknowledge it was because Trista was watching me do it.

  Helena sucks every bit of me down, then gently licks around the base of my cock while her husband continues to fuck her ass. I pull away from her, gently stroking a thumb across her cheek. Leaning down, I press my lips to her forehead and whisper, "Thank you, Helena. You are amazing."

  My head turns toward Trista as I tuck myself back into my pants and refasten my zipper and belt. Trista has stepped fully into the room, but she is no longer looking my way. Instead, her gaze is roaming around, but I can tell she's not taking anything in. As I've observed over the past few days, she tries her damnedest not to focus on the sex going on around her. It's not because she's not interested... because there is not one person who can step foot in this club and not have curiosity overtake them. My best guess is that Trista wants to look too badly and is perhaps afraid of the way it will affect her, so she tries very hard to remain aloof from it all.

  I clasp Steven on the shoulder for a brief squeeze as he continues to fuck his wife before making my way across the interior of The Silo toward Trista.

  Her gaze finally comes to me when I'm but a few feet from her. I glance at my watch, and then back to her. "You're right on time."

  Trista merely shrugs. "Well, I take my job seriously."

  "Good to know," I tell her as I take her by the elbow and lead her out of The Silo. "I'd hate to have to fire you before you fulfilled your end of the deal to get the rest of the money."

  Trista stiffens minutely, but she doesn't say a word. She walks along with me willingly but silently as I take her to my office.

  After punching in my security code, I open the door and motion her to walk in before me. I follow her in and shut the door.

  "You said I was going to be working a different job tonight?" Trista asks, her nervousness clear in her tone.

  I don't answer her right away. Walking to the closet, I open the door, reach in, and pull out a condiment tray. Turning to her, I say, "Lindsay normally works the Waterfall Room, but she's sick tonight. You're going to need to fill in for her."

  I wait patiently to see what Trista will do. If I was a betting man, I would think she would balk at the idea. Even though she knows this is an expected job duty, I can tell she's not the type of woman who is going to be comfortable wearing nothing but a thong and a couple of straps over her breasts.

  Instead, she catches me off guard when she asks, "Do you do that often?"

  I know exactly what she's asking, but I play stupid. "What do you mean?"

  "Have sex with the club members," she says almost belligerently. I have to control myself not to laugh over her tone.

  "Of course I do," I admit to her. "Why wouldn't I?"

  Trista doesn't seem to have an answer for that, and her gaze drops to the floor.

  I provide her a little bit of clarification about the type of man Jerico Jameson is. "Trista... I like sex. I like it kinky. I also like it in public sometimes. I own a sex club. It's only natural I would take advantage of what is presented to me since I like those things. Do you think I shouldn't?"

  Trista's eyes come back to mine, and she shakes her head. "It's none of my business what you do. I was just curious. And... I've um... noticed that some of the other employees also have sex while they're on duty."

  I walk over to my desk and set the condiment tray down on it. Leaning back, I sit on the edge and cross my arms over my chest. "I guess I failed to mention to you that any employee here also has an automatic membership."

  "That doesn't surprise me," Trista says quickly. "I guess I was just surprised that employees would take advantage of the membership while they are working."

  Understanding dawns, and I nod my head at her. "If things are super busy, my employees should be doing their duties. But if things are slow and there is an opportunity one of the employees wants to take, I encourage it."

  "You do?"

  "Most people who come in here don't have a lot of confidence in their sexual nature. They come for an experience, perhaps one that will only occur once in their lifetime. Sometimes, they are so nervous they won't take advantage of what the club has to offer them. In those cases, I encourage my employees to help make those patrons comfortable. I also ask any of my employees who come in while off duty to help facilitate those guests along."

  Trista's face turns red, and she practically squeaks, "But you said that would not be required of me."

  I give her a reassuring smile. "It is not a requirement to work here, Trista. Should you feel the desire to do so, and your duties would not suffer, then you are more than welcome to fuck someone."

  Utter relief fills Trista's eyes. At the same time, I have a burning fire in my gut at the thought of Trista bending over a couch to take some stranger's dick into her.

  Which makes me wonder... is she that type of girl?

  "Does any of this offend you?" I ask as I push off the desk and come to stand before her.

  She tilts her head back to look up at me. Worrying at her lower lip with her teeth for just a moment, she shakes her head. "Not in the slightest. I'm openminded and I don't begrudge anyone in this club."

  Hmm. That doesn't exactly tell me what I want to know.

  "Are you interested in that particular employee benefit?" I ask pointedly.

  I can't believe the strength of the disappointment that flows through me when she vehemently shakes her head. "Oh no, I could never do something like that. Not in front of others."

  Yes, that is very discouraging indeed.

  I push off my desk and turn to the condiment tray so she cannot see the disappointment on my face. There's a polite smile there when I turn back to her. "Here you go. Take this in the locker room and get dressed. I'll wait for you outside so I can explain to you how this works and where you can get the supplies to fill it."

  Trista doesn't take the tray from me, only stares at it as if it's a snake ready to strike at her. I know this is a huge leap to go from wearing clothing that covers from neck to toe to an outfit that's not going to leave much to the imagination.

  I'd like to provide her some reassurance, but I've got none to offer. If she is in any way shy, unsure, or has major inhibitions, nothing I say is going to put her at ease.

  I will, however, spend the evening walking her through the job, and not for any a
ltruistic reasoning. It's the first step in getting those pretty legs to open for me. My instinct is that Trista is turned on by this, and I want to watch that blossom even further.

  CHAPTER 6

  Trista

  I sit in the dressing room on the padded bench with one leg crossed over the other and my arms folded over my bare breasts. I've been sitting here for five minutes trying to work up the courage to put on the condiment tray and step out of the locker room.

  So far, all I've managed to do is to take my clothes off and put the slinky black thong on. I looked at myself in the mirror for all of three seconds before my butt slammed down onto the bench, and I covered myself.

  I cannot do this.

  I cannot go out and look Jerico in the eye while I have silk running up the crack of my ass and my boobs squished by the straps of the tray. It is completely odd and a little humiliating that I'm more worried about Jerico seeing me in this getup than I am the hundreds of other people in this club.

  But there is no way Jerico is going to let me hang out in here all night, so I take a deep breath and resolve to get this over with. I stand up on the exhale and jolt when I hear Jerico call out, "Trista... are you okay in there?"

  My ass slams back down to the bench as my arms cover my chest protectively. My mouth opens, but no words come out.

  "Trista?" Jerico says, his voice practically on the other side of the dressing room door.

  I'm still not able to answer him, and frankly, I'm barely able to breathe. I just saw this man get a blow job... watched his face morph into pleasure so intense I wondered what it would be like to be that woman, and...

  I have no words for him.

  There's a gentle tapping on the louvered door that separates me from Jerico, and he asks again, "Trista... is there a problem?"

  I swallow hard, and my voice practically squeaks, "No, I'm okay."

  "You don't sound okay," Jerico says, and it pisses me off that I hear humor in his voice.

  Pisses me off so much I can't help but snap at him, "I'm a little embarrassed to be wearing this."

  Jerico doesn't say anything for a moment, but then he cautiously points out, "You had no objections to this when I told you about it a few days ago."

  "I know," I snap at him again. "Just give me a minute."

  "Sure," he says congenially, as if he has all the time in the world to wait for me.

  I hear him take a few steps back and then what sounds like his body leaning against the wall opposite the dressing room door. I can imagine him looking all sinfully sophisticated, replete with male satisfaction, while he waits for the scared little girl to get over herself.

  "Surely you know you have a beautiful body," Jerico says, and the shock of his words cause me to jolt even as I tighten my arms over my breasts.

  I don't even know what to say. In a million years, I would never think a man as gorgeous as Jerico Jameson would consider me to be beautiful.

  Apparently, Jerico doesn't expect a response from me because he continues. "You truly have nothing to be embarrassed about, Trista. No one in this club will think twice about you wearing that uniform. Besides that, I'll stick with you tonight to ensure that everything goes okay."

  I still don't know what to say.

  The silence continues, but then it becomes awkward.

  Finally, Jerico commands in a low, firm voice. "Trista... open the door and step out here."

  I hesitate only a second. This is my job, and I need the money Jerico is going to give me. I've got to suck this up, put on my big-girl panties--or thong--and get this over with. It's only twenty-seven more days of my life, and then I can move on.

  Standing up from the bench, I pick up the condiment tray and set the hooked harness over my shoulders, pull my hair out from under it, and situate the straps to come down over the middle of each breast. When I look in the mirror, my face flushes red as I take myself in. My boobs, which are a hefty C cup, are smashed in a way that doesn't hurt but causes them to round outward. Even though the underside of the strap has a soft, velvety feel, it chafes a little against my nipples. This, of course, makes my nipples hard, and I grit my teeth over the realization that I'm not sure if it's the sensation of the straps rubbing against them or the knowledge Jerico will be seeing me like this in a matter of seconds.

  Just below my breast, the strap on each side splits in two and the four ends anchor to the corners of the tray so I don't have to support its weight. In addition to being able to see almost all my boobs except my areolas and nipples, my entire abdomen is exposed as the edge of the tray sits right below my navel. I give a slight turn in the same strappy black heels I've been wearing the last three nights, and then look at my ass in the mirror. The thong is a dark black satin that is thankfully not see-through--not that it matters when my entire ass is exposed. At least I've always thought I had a good butt. It's not too flat but not too bubbly. I also have good legs, which are long and tanned, and I have to admit there is a small part of me--way deep down inside--that admits I look sexy.

  "Trista?" Jerico calls out to me.

  I give a slight cough to clear the nervousness from my throat and say, "I'm coming."

  I take a deep breath, turn, and open the door to the dressing room, coming face to face with Jerico.

  If I thought there might be some measure of a gentleman within him, I would be wrong because his gaze slowly runs down my body in an appreciative, slightly leering manner. He takes his time, letting his eyes wander back up, but they make it no higher than my breasts.

  "I'm going to show you a trick that will make this more comfortable," he says softly before raising his eyes to meet mine. He steps closer to me and slips his fingers under the strap covering my right breast, but about three inches below it so he's not touching my skin. The breath I suck in involuntarily is embarrassing, and my body locks solid.

  Jerico gives me a wicked smile, and then he murmurs, "I'm just going to make a slight adjustment on you."

  Before I can think to object to him touching me, he pulls the strap away from my breast and with his other hand, he places his palm on the underswell. He lifts it up, and his fingers feel like fire upon my skin. My heart thumps so hard I'm sure it might burst out of my chest. He then lays the strap back over my breast, and I have to admit it feels more comfortable as his hands fall away. My breast doesn't feel as smashed, but the nipple is harder. Damn it.

  My head lifts, and Jerico grins at me. There is no doubt there is wicked intent there. "Want me to adjust the other one?"

  My voice is entirely raspy as I shake my head before turning away from him. "I can manage on my own."

  Jerico chuckles as I repeat the same maneuver to my other boob and almost sigh over the feeling of relief it produces. When I turn back around, Jerico doesn't spare me at all, roaming his eyes over me again. This causes me to fidget in place, much the way I did when I found him in The Silo Room getting his dick sucked while the woman who was pleasuring him was getting her ass fucked. I want to deny to myself that said fidgeting is anything more than just nervousness. However, I can't lie to myself, although I'd deny it to anyone else, but I was insanely turned on by watching Jerico. I'm not stupid. I know he planned it, because he knew what time I would be showing up and he specifically told me to find him.

  I have no clue what his reasoning for it was, but it's probably something as simple as the fact he truly didn't care if I saw him doing that. Let's face it, I know nothing about this man other than he is insanely attractive. Much to my shame, I'm greatly intrigued by the wickedness of him and his club.

  The job of selling things from my condiment tray is not very hard. I worked in retail before, so it's merely a matter of a customer picking out what he wants to buy and me taking the money. I learn quickly enough that the toys on my tray--such as butt plugs and tiny vibrators--are not big sellers. It's mostly condoms and the occasional tube of KY jelly that sell. Ensuring I learn my job, Jerico explained to me that the regulars who come here bring their own paraphern
alia. It's usually only the people who are here for a single night that will need condoms or lube, and they usually don't want to spend the extra money on a toy because let's face it... deviant and public sex in this place is better than any toy.

  I'm only working The Waterfall Room tonight and as promised, Jerico is sticking by my side even though I've assured him I'm good on my own. Truth be told, he's absolutely freaking me out tonight. He has not even bothered to hide his appreciation of my body because he continued to admire it even after we left the locker room. My job is to walk around the room so I can be available to customers who may be in the heat of the moment and can wave me over to them. Jerico has made it a habit all evening to walk behind me at a discreet distance so it doesn't look as if he's training me, but any time I've looked back at him, his eyes have been pinned on my ass. I was horrified by a rush of pride knowing I'd caught the attention of a man who could have any woman in this club, and was even more horrified to realize during my bathroom break a few minutes ago that my thong is absolutely drenched in the crotch.

  In addition, even though I've discreetly adjusted my breasts when I can, my nipples are still chafing. This is not really because of the straps, but because they are constantly hard. I'm going to go ahead and blame that on Jerico as well. Tonight I've had to pay better attention to my surroundings because the patrons who want to purchase from me are usually already involved in some heavy foreplay. As such, I've had to keep my attention on the action. But that came only after Jerico pointed out to me I couldn't do my job effectively unless I paid attention.

  I walk the outer perimeter of the lounge chairs set around the pool and notice a man waving me over to him. He's naked with his legs sprawled out along the length of the couch and an equally naked woman kneels between them as she gives him a blow job.