Dear God. All of this.
I lean back to watch Rett take her from behind, admiring the way her body flushes as she holds tightly to the sofa, bracing herself. I stroke myself lazily, until I can’t keep my hands away. As they both cum, I swallow her cries down with my kiss, slow enough to make her shiver, letting her feel exactly where my focus is.
Blissed out, Rett blurts out, “At the shop yesterday, I got three cans of chocolate whipped cream. Had no idea what I was going to do with it. Who cares? Important part… I have whipped cream. In my room. In the mini fridge.”
“Go… now.” I tell him. Barely separating from Bizzy’s lips.
Ten sets of fooling around. That’s what I want… no endless… endless rounds.
I don’t behave this way. This isn’t like me…
It wasn’t until Biz.
There’s whimpers, growls, clapping, so much clapping…
And afterward, we’re left with one hell of a sticky mess we’re going to owe the Cortini staff heavy tips for. Definitely a new fan of whipped cream from head to toe.
Taking a break, we make sure the drapes are shut and keep our clothes off. I would’ve expected it to feel weird being naked around one of my best friends, but there is no awkwardness. Zero.
It might be that we’re so in tune to Bizzy that being undressed doesn’t even register. It just… doesn’t matter.
I love how silly she can be, not thinking I’m weird for joking around.
“Might I suggest this one, good sir? It delights the palate extensively and reflects the nectar of the gods.” She runs a cold soda down my thigh. I suck in a breath.
“...its sharp and merry tang awakens the spirit as though a court jester hath leapt within one’s very soul,” I reply, making her giggle.
Hart’s waiting for me when I come downstairs. Freshly showered, satisfied… for now, and happy as fuck. Until I see his face, that is.
“Follow me.”
We walk into the sitting room near the front of the house. An older man in a suit is standing next to Soren and Deo.
“Meet Dr. Scott Wiley,” Hart introduces him. I shake his hand, perplexed by the visitor.
Settling into chairs, the doctor starts, “I knew Henry Tullis. Well. We were both Alumni of Rockefeller Amherst.” He’s American?
I want to know how they unearthed this guy. I want to know why we should believe, or trust, a word he says.
He goes on to say, “Last summer, Henry and I got together with some of our old classmates. I want to say before I go any further… I don’t have proof of what I’m telling you. Just well-researched rumors.”
He picks up a briefcase, pulls out a leather-bound book. “I was part of an organization called the ‘Society Article.’ There was no photographed student listing other than ours… and it’s not complete. It only contains the more active or popular students.”He shrugs. “I also need to mention that, before I show you this… I was sent to meet you by Dr. Samuel Hunt.”
Oh, the mad professor we met with. Swell news.
Soren tells him to continue on.
“Henry slid a key under my door on the last night of the get-together with a note. It said, ‘Give this to Hart Crawford.” He’s a current student at Rock Am.”
Likely because Hart is the current scribe.
Hart holds up the key. “The note doesn’t give me much.”
Deo asks the doctor, “Did he tell you… anything?”
He’s trying to find out if he leaked any word about the House of Eights, but Deo knows better. Tullis wouldn’t have lasted for months after that if he had.
I pick up the tome, flipping through the pages. The dated pictures make me chuckle.
