A continuous orgy didn’t describe the activity, exactly. However great the stamina among the participants, occasional breaks were needed, either for lunch or brief naps.
Between fucks, Wade would doze, waking to one woman or another stroking, blowing, or fucking his cock.
The casual atmosphere of the late afternoon became almost normal. The experience, of sitting nude at the dining table, eating a sandwich, while equally nude women stood around and talked of mundane subjects, was nearly surreal.
Like a wet dream.
All of Wade’s thoughts and emotions were put into suspension. He felt nothing except arousal. Ms. Parilla and the others had tuned his body into an automaton, that responded immediately to orders.
Odetta, Anne, Nicki, and Double R, later, watched Wade on the table. Tilde was going down on his cock, while the office boy worked Sam’s pussy.
“This session was good, Anne. Thanks for the invite.”
“You’re welcome Odie. What’s your verdict on young Wade here?”
“Very good. He has some good instincts.”
“He’s a bit on the awkward side, though,” added Double R, “But I liked his performance.”
“I think his shyness, and awkwardness, are too ingrained,” said Anne, “He might improve over time, with more experience.”
“We’re all going to be too busy to give him more lessons,” Nicki said. “Anne, the Old Lady texted. She’ll be in tonight. I offered to send her pics of Young Wade, but she said she wanted to be surprised.”
“She’s always loved surprises, Nicki,” said Anne.
“Much as I want to stay and fuck him some more, tonight’s dinner and a movie with Mason,” Odetta said.
“Can you stay for a few more minutes?” asked Anne, “We need to get Wade cleaned and put to bed. I suspect he’s pretty tired by now.”
“Oh good, another shower,” smiled Double R.
“I think I can stay an extra hour,” Odetta smiled back.
The quartet waited until Sam and Tilde were finished, then helped Wade to his feet and into the shower.
The second time was less intense than the first, albeit some blowjobs and cunnilingus were involved. Overall, everyone managed to get clean.
While Sam, Tilde, and Double R got dressed, Nicki, accompanied by Anne and Odetta, carried Wade to bed. The three women were the strongest in the group, albeit Nicki, who lifted weights regularly, carried the young man with ease.
Wade was out of it at that stage and, thus, missed the experience of a woman carrying him to bed, for the first time since infancy.
The office boy safely put to rest, the three returned to the bathroom, dressed, and left the suite to carry on the rest of the day. Nicki remembered to text the Cleaning Crew before stepping into the elevator.
****
Hours later, Wade woke up. He’d been sleeping, curled, on his side. He didn’t know where he was at first. It was night, obviously. The memory of the earlier day crept into his brain, but not the shock.
“I think I’m still numb,” he sleepily thought.
Noises entered the open door, from outside the bedroom. Ms. Parilla and the others?
His cock stirred at the thought but Wade still felt too tired and sleepy to leave the bed. So he turned on his belly and went to sleep.
He woke again to hands stroking his ass. His first thought, Ms. Parilla’s back, was erased when he raised his head from the pillow to look. Shock and fear produced a faint gasp. Holy fuck!
She wasn’t Ms. Parilla, but he sure as hell recognized her.
“The girls were right,” she said, “You really do have a nice ass.”
A Jump Ahead To Late Sunday Morning.
Robert Wentworth, for all his toxicity, wasn’t completely lazy. He did pull some of his weight for the frat house, such as helping clean up after the previous night’s blowout.
The celebration was more a congratulatory party on his wicked prank against Wade Wilson.
Most of his bros didn’t know Wade, nor did they care one way or the other. A few, more than a few, of Robert’s mindset agreed people like Wade really didn’t belong at Dartmouth. The world belonged to them after all. People outside their class, race, and (with privileged exceptions) sex, needed to be taught their place occasionally.
Others were at the party for fun, and didn’t concern themselves over some geek they never met, and probably never would.
The extra bonus for Robert came from porking Martha Vandergriff. She was pretty, and he’d had better, but she deserved a little something for her inadvertent role in bringing Wade into his clutches.
He hadn’t planned on the prank but Wade’s presence, at last week’s keg party, provided an opportunity too good to pass up.
His own mistake, allowing Wade to control the terms of his penalty, was offset by a correct guess where Wade would stow his clothes.
Robert did give Wade his integrity in fulfilling his part of the bet, evinced by the nude selfie sent to Martha, and the brief flashes at the windows, but that didn’t save him.
Wade’s integrity was one aspect that drew Robert’s contempt. He hated goody-two-shoes.
So that Sunday morning, Robert could help his bros clean the main room, basking in the glow of victory, anticipating Wade’s firing, arrest (probably), and subsequent expulsion from the college.
The doorbell rang. One of the bros, Ashton, went to answer it. He returned half a minute later, his usual brash confidence salted with a little fear.
“Uh, Bob,” he said, more subdued than he normally spoke, “There’s somebody who wants to talk to you.”
Robert would normally dismiss talking with a visitor while busy, but a person who could scare Ashton Brewster obviously deserved attention.
Curious, Robert went to the door. The man standing there drained the color from his face.
Oh . . . fuck! It’s Mister Kim!
Stephen Kim, the family Fixer. If he appeared at the door, it meant the person in question really screwed up in the worst possible way.
Said person being, sometimes, a member of the Wentworth family (often Robert). Which meant he’d pissed Her off, over what, Robert didn’t know. He’d kept his nose clean . . . mostly.
“Robert.” Mister Kim was one of the few family employees allowed to call Robert by his first name.
“Mister Kim.” It had been made clear to Robert, in no uncertain terms, was he to use Kim’s first name.
“May I come in?”
“Uh, yes.”
Mister Kim stepped into the frat house.
“I will make this brief.” He handed Robert a letter. “You are to read this, then I will recite the orders written on the letter. You will then sign the letter, acknowledging you were given those orders orally, and in writing, and that you will obey those orders to the letter. Failing to do so will result in . . . consequences. Do we have an understanding?”
Robert nodded, and began to read. The contents dropped his jaw.
“What the fuck?!” he muttered. It couldn’t be. It had to be some sort of joke. He looked up at Mister Kim, confused.
“You have read the instructions?”
” . . . Yes.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes . . .”
“Then I shall recited them orally. You, Robert Wentworth, will present yourself to the third floor office of the Jansonn and Berkshire building at precisely 9am, Monday. You will have with you Wade Wilson’s clothing, appropriated by you from the men’s restroom, cleaned, neatly pressed, and folded. You will have accompanying your person, all witnesses to the bet made with Wade Wilson at the gathering last Saturday, as well as all witnesses and participants in the act committed against the same, including and most especially one Martha Vandergriff.
You will, on meeting Wade at the office, present him with his clothes. You will not take your eyes from his person at any time in his presence. I repeat my question. Do you understand these instructions?”
Robert stood blankly, trying to process the words. He blinked and said, “Yes.”
“Good,” Mister Kim grinned savagely. “The Old Lady looks forward to your presence.”
Stephen Kim left, resisting the urge to chuckle. He’d hated this rotten spoiled brat for years, and never missed an opportunity to put him in his place.
Robert stared at Mister Kim’s departing back, his mind in a panic.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! He had things to do.
First, fish Wade’s clothes from the garbage bin. Next, find the best damn laundry, conceivably open on a Sunday. Then, gather everybody, including Martha, and convince them to accompany him to Jansonn and Berkshire, early, on a Monday morning.
Finally, he needed to figure out one question: why the fuck was the Old Lady interested in Wade Wilson?
Overall, today and tomorrow were not going to be good.
Next: The Old Lady, The Walk of Shame, and What Happened After.
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