I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of her warm, moist mouth cocooned around my dick. There were few things that I enjoyed in this world as much as getting head. It was the only situation where I could sit back and think completely of myself. I didn’t care if the girl was turned on or enjoying it. Examinations of human nature were put on hold. Fellatio was about simple pleasure—my pleasure.

With one hand pumping the base, Christina drew her mouth up and down over my swollen cock. Her other hand reached below to fondle my balls. She wasn’t very original with her play, but she had spirit. And honestly, even mediocre blowjobs are f**king fantastic.

As for her tempo…it was on the slow side. That could be remedied. I tangled my hands into her hair, messing up her carefully coifed bun. It took her a moment, but soon she relinquished control and that’s when things got good. I drove into her at an aggressive speed. With each thrust I hit the back of her throat, the tickling on my crown sending me closer to the brink. I glanced down at the erotic sight—her eyes watered as my c**k f**ked her mouth. Even as I pounded harder, faster, she allowed me to control the experience.

“Keep up, Christina. Fuck me with your greedy little mouth.”

Her lips tightened around me. She was so willing, so submissive. How strange that she didn’t find it completely debasing. She struggled to catch a breath and the hard floor had to be a bitch on her knees. The demeaning nature of the situation only added to the eroticism. My cl**ax came rushing toward me. I had time to warn her, but I didn’t want to give her a chance to pull away. I spurted into her, holding her head in place so that she had no choice but to swallow.

“That’s a good bitch. Swallow it all.”

Like a champ, she even licked me clean.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Jesus, that had felt good. A perfect distraction from my parents’ dismal casino night.

After I’d tucked myself back into my tuxedo pants, I helped Christina to her feet. “Very good, Ms. Brooke. I suppose I’ll have to approve your vacation request after all.”

She wiped at her lips before giving me a seductive smile. “Thank you, Mr. Pierce. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“I think that’s all, Ms. Brooke.” If she wanted me to return the favor, it wasn’t happening. I’d been there and done that, and there were plenty of fresh cunts at the event to choose from if I decided I wanted to get off again before the night was over.

However, it was never good to burn bridges, so I tugged her close and whispered at her ear. “I have to get back to this boring party. But if I find another chance to get away…” I bit at her lobe.

“Right. Got it.” She was smiling when I released her.

Mission accomplished.

She pulled at the few pins that I hadn’t already dislodged from her hair, gathering them into a pile in her hand. “You need to get out there and practice for when you’re hosting this event. It won’t be long now, I’m sure.”

I did have plans to work for my father over Christmas Break. He’d already given me preliminaries on some of his accounts. “When I’m in charge, I’ll own the nightclubs we party at.” Made much more sense than spending a fortune to rent out another venue. Especially when the evening was for charity. I’d seen the event expenses. It was hard to imagine there was anything left to donate after all the bills were paid.

“Smart thinking, boss.”

I cringed. Now that we weren’t immersed in the fantasy, the remnants of it left a bad taste. It was time to excuse myself from my date of the moment.

“Have you heard anything from Celia?”

That question, however, kept me interested in Christina for a bit longer. “Not since summer.” Not since that night she’d f**ked my father. I’d made sure to avoid her until she’d gone back to school in California a few days later. Having been at school myself, I’d heard little of her and had often wondered how my experiment had affected her semester. This was a chance to find out. “Have you?”

“I went to see her a couple months ago,” Christina said, picking up her handbag from the floor. She tucked the pins into a side pocket. “She was a f**king mess.”

Now that was interesting. “What do you mean by mess?”

“Partying. Drugs. She was doing a shit-ton of coc**ne when I saw her. And talk about slut—she spread her legs for any guy who gave her the time of day.”

I wiped at my mouth, trying to decide how to evaluate the information. It was probably a coincidence. Her behavior couldn’t have been because of me. Could it?

“That’s too bad.” I actually meant it.

“Rumor has it,” Christina narrowed her eyes at me, “that she was nursing a broken heart.”

“Are you blaming her self-destruction on me?” The idea didn’t sit well. While I’d never cared what happened to my subjects after I’d concluded my experiments, Celia was different. She was family, in a way. Again I resolved myself not to scheme anymore with people I knew.

Christina chuckled. “She’s a big girl. She’s responsible for her own destruction. I just thought you’d want to know.”

I shrugged. I did want to know, but I didn’t need Christina knowing that.

“She’s in town for the holiday.”

I shrugged again.

“You know, Hudson? You’re kind of an ass**le.”

It was my turn to laugh. “And you’re just figuring this out now?”

“No. I knew.” She pulled her fingers through her tangled hair. “And I still let you f**k me. So obviously I don’t really care.”

Too bad I didn’t give a shit about people. Christina and I might have made a good team.

As it was, I was done with her. I paused, devising a way to escape. In the end, I simply nodded toward the restrooms. “You should clean yourself up. Have a good Thanksgiving if I don’t see you again.” I left her before she had a chance to respond.

Back in the main room, I found myself scanning the casino tables for Celia. It was silly to think she’d be at the event. Her parents weren’t even there, and Celia wouldn’t have come without them, but I wanted to see her. Wanted to know if she was really a mess. Something in me needed to know that she wasn’t.

I wasn’t expecting to find the answer I was seeking. My survey of the place, though, led me to another sight I hadn’t been expecting—my mother, climbing onto a blackjack table.