At that point, I kept the camera on Sasha, but I had to take my eye from the viewing screen and look, unfiltered, at what was happening a few feet in front of me.
From behind her, Graham placed his hands on her cheeks. He pulled her head back and brought his mouth to hers.
I held on to the camera as best I could with one hand. My other hand had slid down my pants and stroked my aching labia.
Seth and Stevie pulled Sasha’s arms farther apart with the leather straps they gripped like a leash. They placed their hard cocks in her hands and gyrated and thrust.
I found myself stroking my gushing cunt in rhythm with their movements.
I let a moan escape, then I pulled my hand out of my pants and took back the camera.
I circled the bed to get a view from behind Sasha. Graham had abandoned her mouth, and his lips now explored her shoulder while his hand fondled her heaving breasts.
“Release,” she uttered, and instantly Seth and Stevie let go of their leashes.
With her hands now free, Sasha reached for Bash. One hand gripped the hair on his head and pulled him toward her. The other hand seized his cock. She spread her legs and guided him into her.
Bash moved with her like a wave.
Graham wrapped his lips around her puckering nipple.
Seth and Stevie alternated flanking her with lashes from their whips.
The shot dissolved to an image of Dan lying on a bearskin rug. He was blindfolded. His hands and feet were bound. The shot panned out to reveal that Dan was flanked on either side by Jim and Harry, blindfolded and bound and lying in identical poses.
Sasha crawled over Dan. She, too, was blindfolded. Her hands groped. They fell upon a chiseled jaw, carved abs, and toned legs. Her lips meet the flesh that quivers beneath them. Her tongue glides along the contours of their muscles.
Other men came into the frame. It was Seth and Stevie. But this time, in their hands are not whips but sponges and loofas. As she explored the bodies tied down before her, Seth squeezed a sponge, and a stream of water fell onto her back.
Stevie ran his hands over her, spreading the water over her body.
They alternated like this, Seth and Stevie, at an accelerating pace, one man either squeezing or dabbing a sponge, the other rubbing and spreading.
The shot dissolves to Sasha, blindfold off, hanging now around her neck. Dan and Harry still lay on their bearskin rugs, blindfolded and bound, but Sasha has straddled Jim. There were no more exploring hands or soft caresses. She was fucking him and fucking him hard and fast.
Jim groaned, and she covered his mouth with her hand. Then she arched her head back, let go of his mouth, they both let out a moan of ecstasy, and she collapsed, spent, onto his still spasming body.
10
Noah
I’d gone all the way to Iceland to pursue a girl who was actually my next-door neighbor. Talk about doing things the hard way. I’d had a crush on Bonita for years, and it took traveling over two thousand miles for me to finally make my move.
And she’d pushed me away—kind of.
I didn’t have a chance to talk to her about our kiss. There was always someone around. I kept biding my time for a chance to be alone with her. And when we got back from our dinner/spy expedition at the neighbors’, I was made to wait some more. Bonita was lying on the bed, looking at her video camera. But Trevor was anxious to get her up to speed on what we’d uncovered.
“There’s definitely something fishy going on with those people on the other side of the forest,” he told her.
Bonita closed her camera in a flash like we’d just walked in on her watching porn. “I want to hear all the details,” she said.
Trevor, Christian and Ken took turns bombarding her with their summary while the others went off who knows where. I took up my post as a wallflower, biding my time.
“Two middle-aged couples,” Trevor began.
“They claim they’re retirees from Oklahoma,” Christian added.
“Yeah, but I caught them out,” said Trevor. “One of them said he was at the Post Office in Reykjavik last week and had to wait on line for nearly an hour,” Trevor said this like it was a shocking reveal.
“And?” said Bonita. “That makes them spies?”
“That makes them liars, at least,” said Ken.
Bonita furrowed her brow.
“He waited on line,” Trevor repeated. “Someone from Oklahoma would never use that expression.”
Bonita’s face lit up with recognition. “Only people from New York say ‘wait on line.’”
The three of them nodded.
“Wow,” said Bonita, “you’re a regular detective.”
“I noticed a slight New York accent in some of their words, too,” said Ken.
Like dogs wagging their tails at the feet of their master, they were begging for approval, all trying to impress her with what tidbits they had uncovered. I didn’t know which was worse: their behavior or my jealousy.