Page 14 of Watcher

“You can’t take that inside,” the guy says.

“No shit.” I hand him the gun, and he places it in a nearby safe. “I have a legal permit for that. Don’t lose it.”

“Take the elevator to the penthouse suite. Mr. Stallone isn’t going to be here today. He’s not feeling well, but his wife, Megan, is up there waiting.”

Sometimes, the biker gods shine down on you, and all you can do is offer praise. I step onto the elevator and enjoy the slow ride skyward. Me and Megan. Hell, maybe she has her little Mercedes friend with her, and we can make it a threesome.

I exit the elevator when it stops and another security guard is waiting. He pats me down and then sends me down the hall to a private room. I open the door, and there sits Megan, alone, with no Jessica or Mercedes friend.

“Who the fuck are you?” she says and stands so quickly that she spills her wine on her white shorts. “Motherfucker!”

“Names Watcher. Your husband invited me to watch the game.” I grab a hand towel from the sink by the door and try to help. She knocks my hand away as if I were trying to violate her. “Fine.”

I take a front-row seat in a plush leather chair and feel as if I’m being sucked into luxury. I push a button on the arm of the chair, and a gentle vibration hits my legs, ass, and back.

“They didn’t tell me you were a biker.” Megan returns with a drink and sits, leaving an empty chair between us. Her legs are long, lightly tan, and would look gorgeous around my waist. “You the one who saved that little brat’s ass?”

“That would be me.” I glance back at the door and see she closed it before joining me. “How’s that old man treating you?”

“Gives me everything but dick,” she says with a serious face. She finishes the drink in her hand and smiles. “You were at the gas station yesterday when Winnie and I were harassed by those three bikers.”

“I was watching,” I say.

“That why they call you Watcher?” She turns in the chair and unbuttons another button on her shirt. I can see cleavage, and I don’t mind her seeing me gawk. She looks down at her shirt. “I guess that’s why.”

“I don’t mind watching a beautiful woman,” I say. “Especially if she has something I want.”

“Do I have something you want?” Her smile changes from bright to seductive. “I believe I do.”

“Mr. Stallone probably wouldn’t like you fucking around.” I get up, walk around the room, grab a beer from the bar, and sit beside Megan. She smells fucking delicious. I put the beer in the cup holder and rest my arm on the armrest between us.

“Jack knows I mess around. As long as I please him when he needs me to, he doesn’t care what I do in my spare time.” She puts her hand on my arm and runs her fingers over the ink on my left forearm. Every man wants a woman who knows what she wants. It’s obvious why old Jackie-boy keeps her around.

She uncrosses her legs, and I move my hand between them, pressing firmly against her crotch. She squeezes my arm, and then it’s on.

When our lips come together, Megan pushes a button on the chair, and a tinted window comes down in front of the suite.

“We can see out, but they can’t see in,” she says.

I move from the seat and get on my knees between her legs. She watches me with inquisitive green eyes, hooking her thumbs along her shorts’ waistband. She pushes the shorts to her knees, and I take over from there, pulling them down to her ankles. She’s wearing white panties, lace around the edges, satin covering her pussy. The satin grows darker as I kiss up her legs from knees to thighs, switching back and forth between legs, watching her lust-filled eyes.

Megan releases her shirt’s remaining three buttons and unclasps her bra, wonderfully round titties with large, suckable nipples falling free. Keeping my eyes trained on Megan’s, the lids fluttering like a butterfly taking flight, I push the soaked satin aside and reveal the sweetest-looking pussy I’ve ever gone down on. The lips are perfectly smooth and glimmer when I push them apart, revealing a swollen and pierced clit.

I move Megan’s legs over the arms of the chairs, opening her up, her asshole now in view. I give the asshole a couple of licks, and it tightens as Megan rolls her head back. The stadium crowd erupts in cheer, and although I know they can’t see us, I imagine them cheering me on.

I ease a finger into Megan’s wet hole, averting my eyes from hers, now closed, to my fingers in and out movement. Megan moans and both her pussy and asshole tighten. She takes a deep breath and tries to relax. She only accomplishes that for a few seconds, her body squirming when I insert my tongue between her lips, teasing clit and piercing with my tongue.

Megan’s movements take only a few seconds to get in rhythm with mine, her gentle breaths fleeting, her body shuddering like a gentle wind. She whimpers above a heavy chest, and when she climaxes, a steady stream of tasty come assaults my tongue.

I lap her up like a thirsty dog at its water bowl, not stopping until I know she’s finished. Megan opens her eyes and looks down at me, spent and satisfied.

“I think it’s my turn,” she whispers.

“I think you’re right.” I stand to unzip my pants and see Jessica standing in the open doorway.

Megan sees me staring and stands. She smirks at Jessica and pulls her shorts up.

“Fucking asshole,” Jessica says and leaves the room, slamming the door.

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