Logan stared out the window of his penthouse, not the least shy for his modesty, naked body in full view for anyone looking up. If they could see that high up, that is.
The view had grown dull over the weeks since he'd moved in—predictable. Even the scotch in his hand which he'd spent an entire evening outbidding an heiress for tasted bland. Maybe he was just used to the pomp of everyday life now. Very little excited him when he was sober.
He waited for his night's tryst—Casey was it?—to come out of the bathroom. He'd been in there a suspiciously long time.
Logan walked over to his dresser and removed the cover from the decorative Indian bowl his sister had gifted him after her trip to Rishikesh.
He sighed. There was only one pill left. A new drug the club scene called Sensation. He toyed with the idea, his thumb running across the length of the yellow pill.
"Fuck it," he said as he chased the pill down with his scotch.
When Casey came out of the bathroom, his nose was red and his pupils were blown. A sniffle catching him every odd minute or so. Logan handed him a glass of scotch.
Casey downed it in one go and got on his knees.
"No foreplay then," Logan smirked at the sound of his belt buckle being undone.
Sensation worked fast. Logan felt as if he were floating and the only thing keeping him grounded was the pressure of Casey's mouth sucking him down.
Logan let his mind wander as his hands fisted Cacey's sandy blond curls. He thought of the dinner party at Esteban's and the thrill he got from eye-fucking Cacey between meals. He thought of the disapproving scowl his sister had given him when he'd left the party with Cacey—Esteban's new boyfriend. He had told her it was just harmless fun, but he knew better. It was the heady power trip that got him off; got him hard.
Casey started bobbing his head faster, the moisture of his tongue rolling beneath Logan's dick was heightened by the drug. Logan's body was aware of the slightest tingle. Under hooded eyelids, Logan saw Cacey begin to pleasure himself.
Logan downed the last drop of scotch and closed his eyes, head leaning against the glass window. His mind took him back to the museum. To Joy in that salmon coloured dress with a thousand sewn in clear beads. Of how poised she kept herself in that strange environment. He remembered the prickle of excitement he got from staring down the older gentleman who eyed her from across the room, circling his arm around her waist in an act of assertion. Joy turned heads in that museum, a hard thing to do when the show was centred on provocative actors.
"Unnf," Logan's mouth let out a moan. His cum coming out thick and hot. The sound of Cacey swallowing loudly made him shudder. A smile taking over his face as he thought of the low-cut dip on the exposed back of Joy's dress and how her shoulder blades moved under her dark skin.
Casey stood up abruptly, wiping his lips with his hand. "Who the fuck is Joy?"
"Wha—?" Logan stumbled back, his eyebrows pulling down from the euphoric expression he had.
Casey moved quickly to make himself decent before storming out of the room.
Logan didn't realise he'd said Joy's name out loud.
"Fuck," he said as he went after Casey. His dick became noticeably softer now. "At least let me return the favour, Cacey."
Casey stopped and glared. "My name's Caelen."
Logan pulled a face, more shocked at the fact the man was named Caelen than the fact he'd thought his name was Casey this whole time.
"Asshole," Caelen said before slamming the door behind him.
Logan chuckled, pouring himself another scotch to even out him come-down.
YOU ARE READING
Core Drive: A Westworld Story
Fanfiction"Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going." ~Tennessee Williams The hosts have awakened and Westworld is a free-for-all. A woman with a fragmented memory awakens in the mesa to the...
