Maggie s Secret s Secret
- 3 years ago
- 38
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Deep Secret Ch. 23 – Visuals free porn video
It was all supposed to be simple. The plan was that I was supposed to get the orders to retrieve the physically secured files at the office. Go to the office and return. Give the files to Davidson and go home. No harm. No foul.
Sounded easy enough. But things don’t always go according to plan.
Simone – after redoing her make-up and using some breath freshening mist to make sure she didn’t smell like she’d just given someone a blowjob – and I left the quiet office (where she’d just given me that blowjob) in the corridor adjacent to the great room where the Halloween party was still in full swing. No one openly noticed us as we entered again as the happy, but troubled, couple: Jessica and Roger Rabbit. Nevertheless, the way they glanced at Simone, it was easy enough to tell they hadn’t forgotten her performance of earlier, her sexy and beyond-PG-rated numbers.
We met up with my friend from the office, still looking cute and rather bosomy as Marie-Antoinette, and now accompanied by a woman whom I did not know in a beautiful, colorful sari with gold trimmings. After a few moments of chatting, it appeared to me that Simone received a signal from someone and said softly to me, ‘OK. Here we go.’
‘Well, I think Jessica is going to do another set? Aren’t you, honey?’ I said to our small group.
‘I forgot,’ she said, looking up at the stage. ‘I’d better see if I’m still on the call sheet.’ And with that she started to walk away. ‘Oh, and don’t worry if it takes a while, I may have to go over the arrangements with the orchestra. If you need to take off to work on that paper, I understand.’
‘You can get home yourself, right?’ I said. ‘I am kind of beat.’ I thought how much fun it would be if I could have clobbered myself with a cartoon hammer like Roger Rabbit would, doing a pun riff on the word ‘beat.’
Jessica/Simone was now gone. I said farewell to Marie-Antoinette and the woman in the sari and excused myself. I laughed to myself at how typical I was, attempting to carefully capture a clandestine glimpse of cleavage. All the time I was thinking of Simone’s stories about how men thought they were being discreet staring at her breasts, but in truth being obvious, bordering on pathetically juvenile.
Well, I hoped my co-worker, much more modestly endowed (like an average woman) wasn’t offended by it.
Although I had even less of an idea of what was going on than I did when I was at the meeting, planning with ‘the team’ for this party, apparently our plan was now on some kind of track.
Just as I was getting help into my coat by one of the leggy Las Vegas show girls/coat checkers, a man in a business suit stopped me and asked me if I could meet with him ‘privately for just a minute or two.’
Nervously, I agreed and followed him up the stairs at the opposite end of the great room from the stage. In the few moments of silence I thought about this turn of events. How could the government know that I would be asked to do this errand? Was there something else going on here of which I wasn’t aware and which was possibly dangerous to me? My mind continued to come up with answerless questions while we turned a corner down a hallway and entered what appeared to be a small anteroom, almost like a refined and relaxing guardroom, with two men in suits sitting in front of four computer displays. There were a few plants in the windowless room with subtle lighting emanating from behind them. Those lights and two stylish desk lamps were the extent of the illumination in the virtually silent, expensively carpeted room.
The man asked me to take a seat while he left through another door. Before the door closed, from somewhere in the distance I thought I heard the muted sounds of another big party.
In less than a minute of trying to relax in the plush leather chair I’d taken, the man and three new people, a woman and two men, came in. The man introduced the three newcomers as Candy, Albert, and Bill.
Three people with abecedarian names appeared to me as being improbable, but I wasn’t here to ask questions. I was requested to do exactly what I’d been told to expect.
I followed Candy and the two other men out the door, back to the hallway, and down an elevator to a basement garage. We got into a large SUV in silence and left through a different driveway than Simone and I had entered upon our arrival. When we left through another gate, heading to my office, I was not surprised.
There was no conversation in the car.
Upon arrival at my office I explained to the downstairs guard our reason for being there and took one of the executive elevators to an upper floor which I’d never had any occasion to visit.
They had access to certain parts of the office that I did not and I had knowledge of security codes that they did not.
Nearly an hour later we had returned to the estate with a briefcase containing some paper files as well as some secure digital devices. The trip was uneventful and as we reentered the house, the Halloween party appeared to be still going strong. I was escorted upstairs. This time, though, I was asked to wait in the anteroom while my high priced escorts – and not the kind I’d ever want to see again – continued down the hallway. Once again I was sitting in the same leather chair, holding on to the briefcase I had brought from the office, while one of the two men at the desk made a phone call.
After sitting there for several minutes, but not long enough that I thought they had forgotten about me, one of Mr. Davenport’s assistants came through the door.
‘Ed?’ he asked me warmly.
‘Yes,’ I replied stiffly while shaking his extended hand.
‘I’m Stephen. Mr. Davenport would like to thank you personally for your efforts tonight. I know that you were supposed to be at the Halloween party tonight, but what you’ve done for us is appreciated. Did you have any glitches getting the files?’
‘No, it was simple.’
‘I’d like you to deliver those files directly to one of our clients who is enjoying himself along with Mr. Davenport at another party in here.’
Holy crap! I thought to myself. Is there a satanic ritual going on in there? Will I be able to get out with my life?
I was experiencing my first true panic attack. Maybe this was the end. I thought about bolting for the door, but knew it would be useless to do anything foolish just now. Besides, this is what Simone, Clint, and the team members told me to expect. It was all going according to plan. No sweat.
Of course, they had told me that the other party was going to be at another location, not in the same mansion. Things were not going according to plan. Not to worry, I reminded myself. Simone had told me to go with the flow. No problemo.
Then why was I sweating like I was in a steam room at the Y?
‘Would you come with me?’ he asked.
I followed him through the inner door of the small room. We stepped into a strange room, with heavy drapes from floor to ceiling. There were a few others in the room, all wearing costumes, each seemed to be attended by young women dressed exactly like one of those leggy chorus girls from downstairs.
As Stephen excused himself to walk over to speak to a robust man in a gladiator outfit I looked around the room. It was lit from fancy recessed ceiling lamps that made the colorful drapes shimmer. When another man dressed as a fireman came through a break in the drapes on the other side of the room, I realized that the drapes were for sound control. The fireman had come from another room with the ‘other’ party in it or at least I thought I could hear another party, but with the drapes you could only hear noise when another door was open – and even then it was barely noticeable.
I looked at the fireman and saw that he had a mask on below his fire hat. It was then that I realized that none of these people except for Stephen could be recognized. Each had a mask, helmet, or had
on make-up in such a way that you’d never know who he was. This was becoming more bizarre by the minute.
Suddenly Stephen left through the split in the drapes, closing them behind him carefully. A few moments passed and Stephen entered with Mr. Davenport. They spoke quietly for a few seconds.
After the whispering, Davenport came over and said to me, ‘Ed, the party that’s in full swing downstairs is a far cry from the one inside here. This is geared towards executives like myself who are getting some well-deserved time away from the stresses of their positions.
‘I’m going to bring you to one of them, the one who is to get the briefcase you retrieved from the office. You are not to give that to anyone except the person to whom I present you. Understand?’
‘Yes, Mr. Davenport,’ I said weakly.
I followed him between the drapes and through a second set of drapes a few feet further. Behind the second set was a door. He opened it and I heard some exotic, rhythmic music that sounded live.
Still following him, the door closed behind us and two men dressed in business suits stood up and checked us out. Each had to be six-and-a-half feet or more and built like a linebacker. Davenport spoke to one of them and motioned for me to sit down. I began to ask him why, but he left me with the two suits.
Sitting down, I took in my surroundings.
The room was about the size of the great room downstairs with similar features, except there was a second stage in the center of the room surrounded by an array of sofas and tables all around. The lighting was dimmer and the music was coming from a live band at the back of a stage on the far end of the room. In front of the band were three dancers in various states of nudity. From what I could see each one was muscular and tall. Each also had a sexy dance motion, rhythmic and very erotic.
As my gaze moved around the room I noticed that all of the men were wearing some sort of elaborate costume that would make it impossible to recognize him.
There must have been three or maybe even four women for each man. Most of them wore skimpy costumes if one could call them that. Some of the women were wearing lingerie, some had on just a bikini bottom or top, and a few were nude except for stockings and high heels. All of them were attending to one or a group of men, sucking cocks and getting fucked. The fucking ranged from your basic tit fucking to reverse and missionary positions as well as some double penetrations with a man on the bottom, a woman on her knees over him, and another man slipping it to her butt simultaneously. Because all the men’s faces were covered you couldn’t see how much they were enjoying themselves by looking. The collective moans and groans, though, pretty much gave it away.
The women ran the gamut of colors from the darkest black to the whitest white. There was no specific talking that could be heard over the band, but it was obvious that there was a great deal of communication occurring all around the room.
After my initial sweep of the room I tried to see where Davenport had gone, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Feeling like the danger of a few minutes earlier had passed, I settle myself in my chair for a probable long haul.
As I surveilled the room, now at my leisure, I tried to see more closely what these executives – if they were truly that – were up to.
At a grouping not too far from me I saw three men, all in cowboy outfits. They were an interesting group: all had on chaps and cowboy boots, but without pants, sort of like a group of stereotypical male strippers. Unfortunately, these three were more than a little too hefty to pull it off. They were, however, getting female attention as if they were.
Eight women were attending to the three of them. One guy was standing with one leg on the floor and the other on a side table. Below him, a small Asian woman with a delicate frame had his cock in her mouth while another woman was sucking on his balls. The guy was lucky (or was it powerful or rich?) enough to have a third woman working away with her tongue between his ass cheeks.
The second guy was lying on a sofa, his legs splayed out on the floor where a black woman was giving him head. A white woman was sitting on him, feeding him her breasts. From time to time the woman between his legs would shove his cock into her pussy, she’d have a slight convulsive mini-climax for a minute or so, then the sucker would take out his cock and lick all of the woman’s juices up like a pro.
The third guy was banging one woman in good old missionary position on another sofa while another one liked his balls and asshole. Meanwhile he was licking the pussy of a third woman who was sitting on the arm of the sofa, over the head of the woman getting fucked.
Continuing my investigation of the room, I saw similar feats being performed by sexy young women everywhere. The men were drinking and joking. None appeared to feel any awkwardness at their nakedness or their debauchery. The women were mostly silent, though many of the ones getting fucked were loudly making it known that their men were the cause of their pleasure.
As I looked around taking it all in, questions popped into my head. Part of me was appalled that these wealthy men could just hire women to do these things to them. Another part slapped that first part up side the head, saying why not? If the women wanted to do this and were getting paid well for it, who was I to cast any aspersions in either the men’s or the women’s direction?
Then I briefly flashed on the fact that any – or even all – of these women could be sex slaves. I quickly dismissed this thought because I didn’t want it to be true. Plus, I could never know for sure – nor could I do anything about it.
That returned me to thoughts of my purpose for being here in the first place.
While I had been ruminating on the best of all possible worlds, I noticed that a curtain had come down around the small stage in the center of the room. As the overhead lighting diminished electronically, giving the room a pall of mystery, the music of the band similarly diminished and they ended the set.
Some weird electronic techno music began to play softly as the curtain rose around the central stage. Most of the motion in the room ceased, except for some of the women continuing – apparently when requested – to suck their men.
As the curtain rose, I could see a well-built man, at least 225 pounds of solid muscle, standing in the center of the stage. He was wearing black leather boots, pants, and black leather suspenders. He also wore a black leather mask covering most of his head.
He gestured with one hand to the audience and the room was silenced. Now, all eyes faced him.
Suddenly two women bounced up, as if from nowhere, onto the stage. Each was wearing a garter belt and stockings and heels, nothing else. Both had large firm breasts and dynamite figures. They wore the smiles of showgirls.
One of the girls motioned to a high black chair and the guy sat in it. They both made a big to-do about opening a codpiece that was covering his groin. He opened his legs wide and both of the women crouched between them, their hands busy at his crotch.
It was then that I noticed the displays built into the walls showing live video of the machinations on-stage for those who wanted to get a bird’s eye view.
They opened the crotch of his pants so that his cock was freed. Then both of them sucked and licked his member. It was the largest cock I had ever seen.
Now, I’ve watched my share of porn so I know a large cock when I see one. This guy’s cock was something unreal, though. As the two women continued their ministrations, he kept growing and growing. He must have stopped at somewhere over a foot. I know that it sounds impossible, but I saw it clearly.
The two women were smiling as they continued to lavish it with their tongues. As one attempted to get
some of it in her mouth at one end, the other went to work on his balls. Though they were quite large, somehow they seemed to be dwarfed by his enormous cock. What was even more unsettling was that while the one was getting only the head of his cock in her mouth and trying unsuccessfully to take in more and the other was licking all around his balls, there seemed to be so much extra space between their two women’s heads that three or four other women could have occupied it with their lips and tongues – if they could only have found a way to fit the rest of those other women’s bodies in that space.
While I and everyone else there was swept up in this guy’s amazing equipment and the two lovely women tending to it, a trap door on the floor of the stage opened up and leather covered, dark purple oblong object was raised. It was about three or four feet long by 20 inches wide and three inches thick and mounted on some sort of gimbal. Along its sides were handles. When it finished moving it stood about three feet above and parallel to the floor of the stage.
The music changed a bit, throwing in some added tension. The conversations were picking up and you could hear a murmur of heightened excitement.
It was at that moment that two women in masks wearing dark purple capes, completely concealing them from head to toe, walked slowly up some stairs to the stage. Both were probably six feet tall with shoulder-length wavy dark hair. One woman was black, the other white.
At the same moment, I almost cried out in surprise when a hand lightly touched my shoulder. I looked up and tall woman was standing there looking down at me. She was also dressed in black leather, similar to ‘The Cock’ on stage with black boots and wearing a mask.
She leaned over and whispered to me, ‘Ed, stay cool. Don’t – I repeat – don’t say a word.’ Her voice was tense, her message terse. I sat there feeling her hand on my shoulder as she stood back up, then I tried to remember who it could be.
It was one of the other women on the government team, a colleague of Simone’s. I tried to figure out what her message meant. I was calm. Why would I say anything? What was going to happen that I might make me lose my cool?
My mind wandered as I tried to figure out what she was doing here at this moment, why she came to me. And, of course, how she got there. The last I had heard from Simone was that none of her team was even going to be at this other party. But, then again, I had thought this party was going to be at another location entirely.
As I was trying to put it all together, I looked at the stage. The white woman in the cloak had moved to the floor of the stage, probably kneeling, but under the cloak she could have been crouching. It was impossible to know. What was clear though was that The Cock had moved to stand directly in front of her and she was licking his cock like it was an object of adulation.
After a few moments of watching her work I looked up to ask this woman about her warning, but she was no longer there. I hadn’t figured out where she had come from and now I didn’t know where she’d gone. Damn subtle, these spy types!
In retrospect I realized I should have known what she meant by ‘stay cool.’ At the time, though, the evening’s events had an unusual effect on me: I was not myself. I’d never seen an orgy. I’d never been to such a luxurious home. I’d never played cat and mouse with a clandestine group of international evil men, and I’d never been involved in an ‘operation.’
You throw in the fact that it was Halloween and I was dressed like Roger Rabbit and that my girlfriend was probably somewhere, putting herself in mortal danger to take down these bad guys, and I was understandably not my usual self.
Little did I know at the time how prescient that sentence was! I was, though, soon to find out.
So the messenger had left and I thought to myself. ‘I’m staying cool. I’m not giving away any information.’ Things were fine. I was simply waiting for Davenport to return, to allow me to give the briefcase to someone, and I would be on my way. Then, I’d see Simone later. That would make everything right. Watching her get undressed, jiggling those great big boobs in my face, licking those tasty nipples, and then seeing her go down on me. Ah yes, things would be back to normal in no time.
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