Chapter 7

Saturday July 18

Miles and I played a couple rounds of that XBox dancing game last night. When I got bored I got on my knees in front of him, intending to give him head, but he wrestled with me and he ended up going down on me instead. Later we did it on his couch again. It was good. I’m starting to really like that couch.

This afternoon I snuck by Mr. Demarco’s house to see if my infrared receiver had intercepted any remote control codes. I didn’t have to get inside - just close enough for a Bluetooth connection with my phone. The buffer was pretty full, so I guessed that Mr. Demarco had indeed reconfigured his TV.

Back at my house, I set about the laborious task of piecing together the data. The device fed it all to me as a sequence of numbers. From there it was easy to translate them to button presses. Figuring out what they meant, without being able to see the menus and cursor positions that had been on screen, was a bitch. Making sense of “right, right, down, enter, up, left, enter” when you don’t know where you started is not fun. But I had the TV’s manual, and lots of screen shots and videos on the web, so after a couple hours, I was pretty confident that I had the passwords to both the WiFi and the media center.

I drove back, parking two streets away, and connected to Mr. Demarco’s media center. I downloaded every file on it, spot-checking a few of them to make sure I was getting something I could use.

There was a whole folder labeled “Lexi”. He had videos of me dancing in my underwear, fucking Miles in his bed, and Thursday’s morning romp. He also had the video of Ethan and me that was supposed to have been destroyed.

It looked like all of the bridge club kids’ videos were there, too. I confirmed that the one of Kelly’s brother inseminating the couch was there, at least.

The most important part, though, was that there were recordings of the bridge club orgies themselves. They showed the participants fucking each other while watching the clearly identifiable recordings of their children. That should be proof enough. I bet I could have gone to the police right then and there, and it would have been enough for a raid. But again - how badly would the kids suffer if I did?

I started making preparations and turned on a live feed while the bridge club members arrived.

Greetings, chitchat, drink offers - boring boring boring.

“Andrea, would you like to tell us what we’re about to watch here?” Mr. Demarco said as he worked through the TV’s menus to select a video.

The pixie-cut-brunette addressed the crowd. “As we’ve all seen, Kelly is eagerly exploring new ways to get herself off. Well, I wanted to know what she would do if she had the liberty to use the proper equipment. She takes a shortcut walking home from piano lessons. And someone accidentally dropped a $100 gift certificate to Good Vibrations ... Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: Kelly’s first vibrator!”

I guess they like to start off with relatively tame videos. The guests were only partly paying attention - still chatting, loosening up, and sipping cocktails. In the video, Kelly hiked up her skirt, turned the vibrator on, and touched it to her cheek to test it. It was a seven inch long blue transparent one, plastic or silicon, that looked as much like a chess piece as a penis. She started it at her mound, on top of her panties. As she moved the vibrating tip closer and closer to her clit, her mouth hung open wider and wider. Within seconds after reaching her sexual epicenter, Kelly’s body started to lurch violently, like a girl about to throw up. Instead, she let out a high-pitched gurgling squeal, and her body trembled.

There was a follow-up Kelly video - this time with no panties. After she finished she quickly hid the vibrator and dashed to the bedroom door, opening it to argue with her brother. The sound was too garbled on my feed to make out her words, but the bridge club guests seemed amused. “Oh, he totally knows,” the redhead opined.

One of the men followed up: “There’s something about the way those two fight. Maybe in a week or two, Andrea, you’ll show us a video starring both of your kids together!”

People were starting to lose clothing and touch each other by now. Mr. Demarco was messing with the remote with the redhead’s hand down his pants when Carrie, his blonde wife, slid up beside him and touched his chest. “You said you’d let me see it,” she begged. He gave her a peck on the lips.

“You all know that I hate to brag...” Mr. Demarco said to the room. He waited while the laughter and jibes subsided. “ ... but I’ve got a little thing on the side. Allow me to present: Desperate Alexis.” Hmph.

The video he played, of course, showed me on his bed: hitching up my skirt, sucking the ear piece of my glasses, removing my bra under my shirt, and ... begging for more. The redhead was on her knees wanking Mr. Demarco’s cock, but she didn’t seem to want to take her eyes off the screen to suck him.

Carrie aggressively sat on the couch and threw her legs open. “Someone lick me now!” she commanded. One of the guys ducked under her dress obediently.

“Oh she’s a screamer!” The redhead said once things in the video got intense. She and Mr. Demarco had moved their bodies so that she could lick his cock head while still watching the TV.

“She looks like one of those animated girl chipmunks - the one with the glasses,” Carrie said scornfully.

“She reminds me of that Harry Potter girl,” one of the guys said in my defense. “Something about the eyebrows.”

“Hey Tim, when you get tired of her, do you think you could throw her my way?” One of the guys asked Mr. Demarco. He was sitting in front of the long-haired-brunette’s spread legs, rubbing his cock up and down her slit.

“I won’t be getting tired of her any time soon,” Mr. Demarco replied. “But with a few more lessons, she might be ready for sharing.”

“Isn’t she a little old for you, TJ?” The pixie-cut-brunette teased. She was on her back, on the floor, getting pounded by a guy on top of her.

“Eh,” TJ replied, “I’ll put her in pigtails and a Saint Frances uniform. We’ll make it work!”

Pretty soon Carrie was coming and practically suffocating her poor guy with how hard she was shoving his face into her snatch. The me from the video was coming. The redhead was on her knees, taking it doggy style from Mr. Demarco. The other two pairs were fucking pretty seriously too.

God I envied the redhead. I never got a chance to do Mr. Demarco doggy style. My fingers were dashing quickly in and out of my pussy, there in my car, as I watched a live feed of people fucking while watching a recording of me, fucking. So surreal! The redhead moaned and I ached. She started to come, thrashing her long hair around like in a heavy metal video. I came too, as if I was siphoning off portion of her climax.