Ginger Fox Part 3

“It’s been a long time. It would be kind of hard not to know, with her screams echoing through the walls,” he says casually, removing his blazer and hanging it on a hook behind the door.
“This is insane!” I rub my face with my trembling fingers.
“I think the word you used earlier today is essential, Miss Fox.” I slowly pull my fingers away, looking at him.
His hand is folding the cuff of his dress shirt, making it perfectly level with his elbows. He quickly does the same with the other sleeve. He raises his wrist and looks at his watch as if the minutes are ticking away. His rapid movement startles me, causing my body to hit the cabinet doors behind me. He’s a predator, and now I’m aware of it, after the shock of seeing Mrs. Lorane with Bob. I’m in a tiny room with a dangerous man, with no way to escape. His hand presses against the cabinet above my head, and I feel the scent of his body so close to mine. I try to concentrate all my strength on counting the buttons on his shirt to keep my body from betraying me.
“We’re more like animals than we think.” My racing heart completely loses control as his gravelly voice whispers calmly. “We feel hunger, just like them. We feel thirst, just like them… ” Roy lets out a small sigh, his warm breath brushing against my face. “We feel the urge to fuck, just like them. Everything that is essential, we crave. And like animals, we go after what we need to survive.”
His hand is swift, pulling my shoulder and bringing me to him until my face is buried in his chest, enveloped by the warmth of his skin and intoxicated by his woody cologne. It’s intoxicating, toxic like a heavy drug that enters my respiratory system, clouding my mind and slowing my actions. The click behind me is followed by the cabinet doors he opens.
“Please, get in.” He lowers his head at the same moment I raise mine to look at him.
“In the cabinet? You want me to go into the cabinet?” I try to look over my shoulder, but I’d have to twist my body completely to see what’s inside.
“I promise I won’t bite, Miss Fox.” He grips my waist with both hands, lifting me off the ground as if I were a blow-up doll, and pushes me inside.
My fingers instinctively clutch his shirt, afraid I’ll get stuck inside. But this time, he doesn’t remove them; he moves his body with mine, entering the narrow cabinet. I see him standing upright, letting go of my waist only to pull the doors closed. Instead of total darkness when the cabinet is shut, we’re illuminated by dim red LED lights in the cabinet’s frame, almost like those in movie theaters.
“Why are we here, Mr. Roy?” My breathing starts to become heavy, feeling trapped not just by the lack of space but by how close he is to me.
“Turn around.” He places his hands back on my waist, with authority, moving my body with agility until I’m facing the wall. Everything he says never sounds like a question, only an authoritative demand from someone who refuses to accept a refusal.
I can’t reprimand or express my anger. My indignation is silenced by the perfect view of Lorane exposed on a table, her chest heaving as she wraps her legs around Bob. I stretch my hand, touching the glass square that shows everything happening in the conservatory. It’s not a cabinet; it’s an observation room, like being inside a photo development room from campus, used by the journalism class. The lovers being observed present us with moves worthy of adult content channels. Bob lifts Mrs. Lorane’s leg, letting his tongue trail up her calf, only to return to suck her big toe passionately. Bob’s lean hips move slowly, bumping into hers in lazy thrusts. They are no longer the frantic lovers from moments before.
“Can they see us?” I whisper softly, afraid of breaking their intimate moment.
The body behind me moves, pressing his chest against my back. I feel Mr. Roy’s warm breath on top of my head. His face moves, raising one of his hands and pushing my hair aside, whispering calmly:
“No. It’s a picture on the other side. Apart from you and me now, no one else knows.” His voice is almost cheerful, like a boy sharing his secret.
“Why did you do this?” My gaze follows Bob’s hands as they roam Lorane’s thighs. She arches her chest, giving him a view of her pale breasts, with pink areolas bouncing with each thrust. He alternates between slow, deep thrusts.
“There’s a certain freedom in observing people, Ginger.” He leans his face closer, letting his stubble brush against my ear. “Especially when they’re unaware of our presence.”
I knew he liked to observe, but installing a magic mirror to watch people having sex is quite a fetish.

“Are there more of these magic mirrors around the mansion?” I try to recall if my room has any pictures on the wall.
His chest vibrates against my back as he laughs.
“Unfortunately, there’s only this one. But now that you mention it, I see potential for more in other rooms,” he says with a laugh, but something inside me knows that he’s seriously considering it by the end of the sentence.
“Notice the soft movements of Lorane’s breasts with each breath she holds, as pleasure approaches.” He’s analyzing, watching the couple like I admired the paintings in the east wing hallway.
“Do you see them as a painting?” My fingers grip the thin bar below the magic glass, feeling like Mary discovering the Secret Garden.
I’m more impressed by the way their bodies connect. Bob withdraws from inside her, and my eyes go to his medium-sized, pink, veined penis. He moves close to Lorane’s face, holding her hair in his hands, forcing her head down, letting it hang with the rest of her body spread over the table, giving a perfect view of his penis entering her mouth, holding her in place until he’s completely inside, making her eyes widen with deep throat. Bob’s other hand massages one of her pink breasts, only to deliver a strong slap to the pointed nipple. I feel my chest burn in response to his actions on her body.
“It’s a living portrait, a moving painting, full of flaws and desires. An essential act for both of them.” Mr. Roy rubs his face against my neck, increasing the shocks in my body and accelerating my blood circulation.
My fingers on the bar grip harder, feeling the heat. The oxygen in the room decreases, my body temperature rises, but I’m still fixated, unable to look away from the couple. Lorane chokes with her face red, as if about to faint, but Bob doesn’t pull away; he just holds her head tighter to keep it still, slapping her cheek, making her even redder with a handprint on her face. Bob pulls his cock out of her mouth just for a brief moment to let her catch her breath. The young, sleazy guy’s hands stick to the sides of her face, holding her cheeks and pulling a finger on each side of her mouth, keeping it as wide open as possible. His hips move, fucking her mouth forcefully, going deeper with each thrust. Watching a porn film is one thing, but witnessing every detail, every gasp of air right in front of you, is entirely different. Bob pulls out completely, dragging a string of saliva with him, when he removes his cock from Lorane’s mouth. She has a sweaty face, breathing rapidly, but I still see complete satisfaction in her eyes. He returns to the center of her legs, rubbing his spit-coated cock over her pussy, torturing her. My legs are spread, receiving an intruding thigh between them. My wet panties rub against the thick fabric of his dress pants, and in the observation room, I hear nothing but my heavy breathing. My body doesn’t try to pull away, nor does it reject when his knee moves, hitting the center of my pussy and rubbing over my panties. It burns with the friction of the fabrics, clashing against each other. I bite my lips, letting out a low moan and clutching the damned iron bar tighter than ever.
“Why are you here, Ginger?” The rough voice at my ear makes my breasts ache, throbbing with excitement.
“Because you brought me…” His chest vibrates, pressed against my back, releasing his dangerous laugh.
“No, little Gim. Why did you come to the island? What were you running from?” My mind is numb, without coherent thoughts, just trapped by the sight of the couple in front of me and the slow movements of his knee between my legs.
“Because… Oh, God!” I bite my mouth, stifling a scream as he hits the exact spot, making me tremble on my legs.
The large, firm hand slides over my shoulder, pushing the thin strap of my dress down, letting his fingers create a path until they touch my breast with light touches, torturing me.