Duchess started sucking on Glaze’s tits as Glaze threw her head back in ecstasy and started moaning and saying, “Oh yes! Ummmmm, that’s what I’m talking about!”
“You two are some serious sluts,” Michael said. Poor thing was getting angry about the entire situation, but his ass wasn’t leaving, either. “I can’t believe you all are doing this shit in auditions.”
Duchess stopped slobbering all over Glaze’s tits long enough to say, “We’re only sluts because our sexuality scares you.”
Glaze pushed Duchess back on the sofa and started pulling her panties off with her teeth.
“I’m not scared of shit!” Michael lashed out.
“Prove it!” Duchess challenged. “Are you over forty? They say most men over forty can’t keep their dick hard anyway. You probably can’t even handle all this pussy.”
That did it!
“I don’t give a fuck about the role anymore. I’m about to teach you two bitches a lesson.”
“There’s that wildebeest!” I exclaimed out loud in my studio. “Bat-shit-crazy motherfucker!”
The three of them fucked and sucked for the next two hours and I got all of it on camera. Both Glaze and Duchess sucked that rat bastard dry, then got him hard again and one rode his face while the other rode his dick. Then Glaze lay on top of Duchess’s stomach and he ate them out in stockpile fashion with their thighs held open in V’s with their hands, greedy fool. I had to admit, it was an amazing spectacle to view. I could’ve made a ton selling it on the Internet!
After that, he fucked them on top of each other, putting his dick in Glaze’s pussy, pounding her, and then pulling out, lowering a few inches, and pounding out Duchess while Glaze bit on his nipples and stuck her finger up his ass. They really had his ass going. He thought he was doing something, but it was just another day at work for the two of them, especially Mrs. Teasedale. She was a Mrs. because she was actually married, had been for a few years. Her husband was a—get this—epidemiologist, meaning that he was responsible for investigating public health concerns and preventing them from spreading. Hmm, okay.
Before they let Michael go—he never asked about the nonexistent other people who never showed up for auditions—they both stood in the middle of the floor with their backs to each other and leaving enough room between them for him. That shit was my idea! They bent over and grabbed their own left ankles and each other’s right ankles so that it was a tight squeeze as he fucked them in turn. He was balls-deep in Glaze and then struggled to turn around and go knee-deep in Duchess and so forth and so on.
Then that bastard ran out of semen, energy, and he was barely coherent by the time they got done with him. Glaze and Duchess went and lay on the couch, scissoring their legs together as Michael got dressed in silence. What the fuck could anyone say after all that?
As he was leaving out the door, Glaze whispered, “I’ll be in touch.”
That wasn’t true. She wouldn’t be in touch, but those recordings were about to make Michael Vinson the famous actor he’d always wanted to be. All I had to do was edit out the women’s faces, lay some freaky background music to it, and make sure that Cherie was the first one to see it.
I was so fucking proud of Glaze. I shot her a quick text.
ME: YOU’RE THAT CHICK! CLEAR EVERYTHING OUT AND HEAD BACK HOME. CALL YOU TOMORROW.
Chapter Eighteen
Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.” I was sitting on Marcella’s sofa in her cabin on a Saturday afternoon. “I realize that I’m constantly imposing on you outside of your regular business hours.”
“Psychiatrists don’t really have regular business hours, Wicket. I see some of my patients in the office, but I also have some in psychiatric hospitals. Not many, but some, and I do some pro bono work.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Sure, but it also gets me an opportunity to stay on top of the trends in my profession.”
I crossed my legs. I was casual that day: tan leggings and a button-down white shirt. “There are trends when it comes to being crazy?”
“Of course. A lot of people are affected by illnesses that mess with their brain activities, and those change all the time. A lot of insane asylums first popped up back when tuberculosis was extremely active. The sanitariums were named that because most were near clear, open air, and were constantly cleaned to kill germs. The theory was that if patients were kept in sanitized conditions, it would improve their health.”
“Did it . . . improve their health?”
“For some, it did, but others were too far gone.”
“I never knew that. You’ve taught me something.”
“Initially, most were started in private family homes. I’m talking a century ago and then some. Wealthy families with relatives who were suffering from mental incapacity would donate their homes, or convert them to facilities to house them and others. Searching for a cure.”
“Kind of like a lot of drug and alcohol rehabs are started by former addicts or relatives of those who need recovery?”
“Now you’ve got it.”