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In these days of security cameras backed by facial recognition software, of millimeter-wave scanners, or constant electronic surveillance, who would ever consider any place as open and innocuous as a mall food court to be someplace dangerous?

Certainly none of the people casually moving in and out of area, who might feel a slight tingle at the back of their minds as they cross the food court's outer border, but they didn't see or hear or even do anything unusual while they were there, did they? No, everyone within that space is very clearly comfortable there, like the overweight young woman behind the Sbarro counter who was currently having her pussy eaten by her quarterback classmate who just the other day had mocked her in the school hallway. Or the career women at the corner table, spontaneously modeling their latest purchases from Victoria's Secret for one another, a fashion show that was quickly descending into a girl-on-girl tryst. Or the female security guard getting double-teamed by the teenage delinquents she'd been escorting out of the mall after catching them shoplifting.

And the one most clearly at ease with his surroundings was the handsome, dark haired man in the center of it all, sitting at a table with a beauty from Hot Dog on a Stick kneeling between his legs, the top of her brightly-colored uniform dress pulled down to her waist, and her equally garish hat bobbing up and down while she sucked his cock.

This man was the only one really watching, really seeing everything going on. And as such, he was the one who saw when she entered the zone of his control.

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Jason Wyndgarde

February 2017

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