Chapter 8
8
James
I lean back in my chair, stretching a little. Damn, that was a fucked-up session. Of course, all of our gangbangs are fucked up because that’s the nature of gangbangs: one woman, shared by three men until she’s dripping with their seed. But Tanya takes things to the next level with her utter sluttiness and sexy, willing ways.
I heave a sigh of satisfaction. Shit, that woman’s going to wear us out with her insatiable habits. We’re not the one’s tiring her out; instead, it’s Tanya in control, day in and day out. The three of us are the ones worshipping at her feet, begging for mercy as she bares her beautiful body for us again and again.
But now, it’s time to get some work done. A man can’t ignore his responsibilities forever, and I’ve got some shit to check up on. I fire up my computer and then frown when my inbox hits the screen. Damn. A hundred unanswered emails. Fuck me. Isn’t my secretary supposed to take care of some of this?
But one email catches my eye because it’s addressed to the board of our apartment building. With only four shareholders, all of us are technically on the board, and because I’m a lawyer, I serve as the building’s president. The message is from some dude named Henry Cutler, and he’s written something about birdwatching. Are you fucking kidding me? Who gives a shit about this stuff? But ever since that incident in Central Park where a Karen called the police on a black man, I suppose birdwatching has exploded in the city.
Henry’s written something about red-tailed hawks nesting on our rooftop, and I blink with surprise. Are you fucking kidding me? There are only a couple trees up there, and they’re in planters no less. How could a fucking hawk build a nest on our property?
But the writer insists that he’s seen the bird, and asks to make an appointment to view it up close. I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh heavily. I can feel a migraine coming on because this isn’t great news. If there are hawks nesting on our roof, we’ll likely need to re-home them. There’s no fucking way we’re going to host birds of prey on our property, and we definitely don’t want a parade of people requesting to see them either.
Even worse, it means that our roof has been surveyed by others. Other people are pointing their binoculars at our building, and god knows if they’ve caught a glimpse of Tanya and her sexy rituals, much less a couple sessions of our depraved fucking. We don’t usually do it out in the open, but there have been one or two dirty foursomes up there, no question. Has the world been observing?
I grunt with displeasure, slamming my fist on the desktop. Fuck! Have we been spied upon all this time? I suppose it’s a possibility, and there’s only one way to find out. I dash out an email, and agree to meet Henry at a local coffee shop the next day. Someone’s got to take care of business because I don’t want anyone seeing our girl’s curves but us … and I’m going to make sure this fucker understands.