The Spirit Garden is dark and
unoccupied. It could be that few people actually know about it. He considers
finding some way to lock the gate, but realizes that he doesn’t really care. He
takes Audrey to the pentagram, motions for her to kneel and undoes his pants,
unleashing a steel rod resembling his penis. Audrey gives it a lick and smiles.
“My
God, honey, it’s like something on a marble statue. Did I do this?”
“You
and that outfit.” Jack looks down to take in the sight: a wicked red-headed
pirate girl sucking off a pimp at the center of a pagan garden. The combination
is dizzying. He looks out over the long rows of soil next door, hears snatches
of conversation and music floating over the fence. It’s all so almost-public,
so free and nasty. Audrey has a hand on him now, is pumping his cock into her
mouth. He’s tempted to let himself go right now, but decides that he wants even
more.
He
takes her hands and pulls her up, guiding her to the statue of Lakshmi. Audrey
takes the god’s upraised hands in her own and arches her back, extending her
ass toward Jack. Jack collects the vision, the curve of Audrey’s cheeks peeking
out from beneath her skirt, then runs a hand underneath, happy to discover
nothing but flesh and moisture. He dips two fingers into her pussy, rubbing her
juices over her labia, then takes his cock in his hand and slowly slides
forward. Audrey takes a quick inhale and sways her hips, savoring the feeling.
Jack
brings the camera back again and takes in the whole scene: the eaves of the
stables across the way, the insect buzz of a motorcycle on a far-off road, the
aura of light from the far side of the house and the upwelling thunder of a
song’s ending, rolling bass, growling guitar, a screaming singer and the large
drummer hammering everything in sight. He brings the focus back to the strange
menage with Lakshmi, Audrey’s thin arms held in a skyward plea, the satin folds
of her outfit, the white frame of her ass-cheeks surrounding his cock, his
hands around her waist, the pimp-rings spelling out SEX and THUG in blingy
sparkles.
This is the absolute peak moment of my life,
he thinks. He thrusts forward and arches his back, discovering a half-moon in
the sky behind him, then bends back forward, reaching around to rub Audrey’s
clit. Her legs begin to shake in orgasm, and that’s all he needs; he pours
himself into her as the tricorner falls from his head and lands on Audrey’s
back. The plume tickles his face and makes him laugh. The mix of sensations is
too much; he loses his legs and settles back onto the pentagram.
Noting
that he’s still hard, Audrey comes over to plant herself on top of him, happy
just to stay there and soak him in. She’s suddenly overcome by laughter, and
bends forward to rub her face against his. Jack looks up and finds Cygnus the
swan, flying over Salinas. He remembers this from Boy Scouts. Now he is Cygnus, hovering over the valley,
looking down on the couple fucking on a pentagram, the two hundred people
gathered at a tent nearby.
“Mr.
Pimp, you are an outrageously nasty boy.”
“I
am, you know. I really am. But I swear, I have never done anything like that in my life!”
“Like
this,” she says, squeezing his cock
with her pussy. “But you should know, if I have my way, I expect to hear you
say that many more times. Mr. Teagarden.”
“Ms.
LaBrea.”
They
hear voices, and the sound of the gate opening – and the sound of the gate
closing.
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