Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) (80 page)

The biker replied, “Righteous weed, brother,” the top half of his body rocking in a slow nod. Hacker said,
 

“I shall relieve you of that.” The biker handed up the blunt, saying,
 

“Partake. Be mellow, fellow.” Hacker took the joint and said,

“Anyone sees Bogart, let him know I’d like words.”

The biker was already building a fresh joint. He said, “That will be conveyed upon his return, brother, be assured,”
 

From the far side of the smoky haze, a bearded biker with a round belly peered over his shades at me. He said, “Is that ’tainment, Hacker?” another one said,

“something for us to enter?” and Hacker looked at me as he said,
 

“Clear the table, boys, and put on a nice cloth. We got a spread coming.”

Hacker looked in my eyes. Now I realized what the price of the ride was going to be. He was expecting me to back out, I could see it, and he was offering me a last chance. Looking around the room, there were four bikers plus Hacker, all with looks of raw, animal lust igniting in their eyes.

The urge to shout
NO!
and to run for the door was strong, but with my stomach quaking I held my ground. Nobody was going to bail me out of this. I had made my choice and I wanted to see it through. For once, I was going to finish what I started.

I looked at each of the five bikers in turn as I dragged the tails of my white shirt out of my leather skirt and I undid the buttons, one by one. They were all big guys, and I was still afraid. I was very excited, too. Me being the center of all of that testosterone, that lust, the thought stirred me of them all reaching for me, clawing for me, their cocks standing, hardening for me, coming for me. Cumming for me. Cumming in me. And cumming on me. Fear thumped in my stomach still, but the thrill beat in my crotch. My panties were soaking.

Time to get them off. I lifted my skirt to slip them down, and a hand cupped the cheek of my ass. I dropped my waistcoat as I leaned into the hand, and two more slid along my legs. I moved my legs farther apart as I shrugged out of my shirt, my big, round breasts bouncing as I did. Fingers found the lips of my pussy and hands slid into my bra, rolled and tweaked my nipples.

My dark hair hung and my breasts swung as I slipped off the bra. Hands were at the tops of my thighs, on my neck, squeezing my breasts, pressing and twanging my clit, spreading the lips of my pussy, squeezing the cheeks of my ass.
 

The bikers stood in a circle. I leaned back against one, stroking his jeans with my fingers and looking in the eyes of the others across the circle. Then I turned, rolling sideways to the next hairy biker. I squeezed his cock through his jeans as I rolled on, till my pert, bare little ass pressed against the groin of the next biker. I looked in the eyes of the bikers opposite as I reached back to the denim behind me, unbuttoned the fly and found the fat, hot cock inside.

My fingers wrapped around the cock. Gripped it. Pulled the skin down. Pressed it against my ass, between my cheeks. Between the tops of my thighs. All the time I watched as the men on the other side of the circle drew closer, reached for my breasts, put their hands on my pussy.

They all crowded close. Hands were all over me. They lifted me onto the table, and I knelt, legs apart, bare ass up, wet mouth open. Breasts swinging. Now I wore only stockings, shoes and the silver chains, bangles and earrings. As I kicked off the shoes, I felt a hand on the lips of my pussy, holding my little wings apart, entering my wet opening. A cock nosed from behind me, up under my stomach, against my mound.
 

In front of me, cocks were emerging from denim, springing out like hot, anxious puppies eagerly reaching towards me. I reached my hands for the two left and right, and my lips for the one in front. The cock behind me was rubbing its underside against the swollen lips of my pussy, and I wriggled my hips to press against it. Finally, it slipped into the waiting mouth of my wet pussy and I gasped as I sucked deeper on the hot, hardening hunk of pulsing flesh in my mouth.

Hands were squeezing my breasts and someone slapped my ass, making me go harder and faster on the cocks in my hands. And the cock in my mouth. And the cock reaming and filling my hot, wet, stretched pussy. As they all crowded in, the scent of men and me and all our hot breath was like a sauna of lust. My ass pumped and swung and bucked against the hips of the biker fucking me as my mouth made a deeper wet tunnel around the thick, throbbing cock that reached to the back of my throat.
 

I sucked on it as it pulsed and it swelled as it pumped and it came. Hot bursts of slick biker cum filled my mouth and my throat. I dragged my lips along, back over and around the hard flesh to get every drop of that cum. Some still dribbled around my lips, though.

I turned to lay on my back. Either side of me were big, hard cocks and I eagerly grabbed both of them. I pulled and sucked on them alternately, shoving them as far into my wet throat as I could. My legs were lifted and between my thighs a cock was rubbing and rearing up against my mound. The biker beat my tidy little bush with his weapon and slapped my ass as he did. The cocks in my hands were heating up and I tasted tangy precum.

I felt cool lube on a finger, pressing around my ass and then it pries its way in. The cocks in my hands started to go off and I tried to get both of them to cum in my mouth, but some of the salty jizz sprayed out onto my face and over my tits. Meanwhile my ass was invaded by the bulbous head of another cock and as it burrowed in, I saw Hacker standing over me, the mean curve of his thick, hard cock waving above my face.

Hungrily I pulled Hacker’s cock into my mouth, dragged it along my tongue and saliva gushed into my mouth as I slid it into the top of my throat. I couldn’t concentrate on sucking Hacker’s cock the way I wanted to, because of the reaming my ass was taking. The thighs and hairy stomach of a biker slapped noisily into the cheeks of my butt and Hacker held my head in his hands as he skull fucked me, with long, deep strokes. His balls slapped at my nose as the head of his shaft plowed into my neck. I sucked on him, eager to taste his cum in my throat.

Hacker came and his slick, salty jizz blasted into my throat, slathering on my tongue, foaming up hot in my mouth and bubbling out of my lips. At the same time, my ass was pumped with hot sticky cum from the thick rod slamming hard into my raw, sore butt.

All five bikers breathed hard, whooping and panting. Sprawled across the table, ripped and laddered stockings hanging off my legs, my heaving tits, my hair and my face all glistened and were sticky with wet cum.

After a joint was lit and passed, Hacker took me upstairs. I mounted the stairs after Hacker’s rolling ass and he took me into a long room with large windows, like a loft. A rectangular black couch and chairs were round a low, black table in the middle of the room. Between two doors, a massive black stereo and TV filled the far wall, and an even more massive bed was by a big window and against the near wall.

The room was white and light, and perhaps even more surprisingly, the bed was made up and neat with a soft pale cover and scattered with big dark pillows. Hacker showed me to the farthest of the two doors, which led to a bathroom with a shower.
 

He left me in the bright, tiled bathroom to shower, and afterwards I found a fluffy towel to dry off with. Still toweling my hair, I came out of the shower to find another biker, big, dark and somehow sharper looking than the others, sat on the couch with Hacker. They looked up. Hacker said, “Bogart, this was…” and the other man said,

“I heard.”

I could see that Hacker and Bogart had things to talk about, and so I made like a dutiful groupie or whatever. Through the other door I’d seen that Hacker had a little kitchen area, and so I went to fetch beers and fix sandwiches. I heard most of their conversation and I was glad, because that was kind of the point.

They were talking about a deal or a meeting, and it involved the Death’s Head MC. That was the club name on the backs of the two bikers who attacked me outside the Meathook.
 

Bogart said, “You sure you want to handle this on your own, Hacker? Death’s Head are a treacherous basket of snakes from way back.”

“I think I know what to expect from them, Bogart.” Hacker said, “I got the straight steer on them from Grinder. You know he’s serving drinks at the Meathook, and he clued me in. I already had a little run-in with Boxer and Shank.”

“I don’t know about this, Hacker. The deal isn’t so important, we can always find some more hardware. You’re no expendable prospect, and I don’t want to see you go down. You certain you don’t want backup?”

“No, I’d sooner take my chances than show up as weak. For the good standing of the club, we need to establish a point here. I’ll be cool. Thing is, either way it goes down, we’ve got a grip on them. If they play straight, we’ve got leverage down the line. If not, then it gives us a hammer that we can use right away.” They both pulled on their bourbons and clinked their glasses, like they were saluting each other. As they did, the men looked each other in the eye and said, “Bro,” before they took another pull from the shot glasses.

After Bogart left, Hacker made a couple of calls on his mobile. While he sat on the couch to talk about ‘consignments,’ a ‘shipment,’ some ‘hardware’ and a meet, I took out his long, beautiful cock, and I stroked it. I blew softly on it. I cradled his balls and took them in my mouth, one at a time, sucking gently before letting them ‘pop’ out of my wet lips. Then I licked the underside of his cock with the tip of my tongue.

As the shaft began to swell, I blew on the head and stroked the sides lightly with my fingertips. I slid my lips over the head, and grazed the underside with my tongue as my breath heated him up. His hips were beginning to squirm. So I slowed down. That made him squirm more, so my touch became softer. That made him press his pelvis up, shoving his cock deeper into my mouth. I held him behind his balls, pushing them towards me with my thumb and forefinger.
 

Then he hung up the phone, grabbed my hair and fucked my face, hard. His cock jammed into my throat, making gurgling noises come out of me and sweet saliva flooded my mouth. Then I sucked. Each stroke as the head of his cock reached my lips, I sucked harder and lapped him with my wet tongue. He gasped as he came. This time I fastened my mouth and my throat on him so well, I didn’t lose a drop of his gorgeous cum.

He lay back and fired up a joint from the ashtray, and his phone beeped.

Hacker took the call. As soon as he heard the voice at the other end, he was alert and attentive. He turned away, got up, walked to the window. And he spoke in a low voice. But I heard his side of the conversation.

“Yup… as agreed… yeah, I’ll bring it… yes… and you’ll bring the merchandise… yup… yup… Yasgar’s, right? Yup… eleven thirty. See you there. Yup… stay safe, bro.”
 

Yasgar’s. That was a disused factory on the far side of town. Miles from anywhere. I knew it from way back when we’d go there for moonlight drinking and whatever.

Yasgar’s was a bleak skeleton of an old factory and warehouse complex, like a rectangular mansion of evil from an old black and white movie. The wide tracks around the outside and the parking lots were littered with the shells of vehicles, sheds and broken down outbuildings. Fractured and broken windows on the upper floors glinted in the moonlight. All the ground floor windows and doors were just black gaps with blackened and broken Art Deco curves.

My plan was to surprise Hacker. I knew he was going to get here early for the meet, and I thought a little al fresco bj would perk him up before showtime. Through the gaping doorway of the main building, massive rusted chains hung from the high roof and piles of old tires and boxes stood by wet pools around the decayed concrete floor. Dripping water echoed in the gloom.

As soon as I got inside, I heard men’s lowered voices. I froze. I crouched at the doorway, trying to hear, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. The sound was coming from behind a stack of metal shelving, and through it I could make out the silhouettes of at least two pairs of legs. They were no more than fifteen feet away. Their heads were hidden behind the piles of stuff on the shelves. I kept very still as I tried to hear them.

The words were just a muffled noise and I couldn’t make anything out of them. With a chill, I recognized the voices. Boxer and Shank were just on the other side of those shelves, and I hadn’t a friend for ten miles or more.

They must have second guessed Hacker and shown up early with their own surprise for him. That didn’t bode at all well. My first instinct was to call him, but I wasn’t going to risk having my phone flash or make a noise before I could get a safe distance away. That thought made me wonder how much distance I would need. It was very quiet around here, they would be able to hear me for some way. It was a miracle I had got this close without being detected.

I crouched and started to back very slowly out. I would keep low and as close to the wall as I could to get away. My foot dislodged an old can and it rolled very quietly across the concrete. The sound of the voices stopped abruptly.

I looked back at the shelves. No legs were visible. I turned to run. A huge hand fell on my shoulder and gripped, hard and I heard Shank’s voice, low and hard. “Boxer, I believe we got us a bonus prize.”

My first thought was to brazen it out. I said, “Oh, boys, you know I’m glad to have found you. Let’s finish what we started earlier,” and I began to undo the buttons of my shirt. As Boxer came at me and I saw the feral look in his eye, I realized that they didn’t want me compliant. They wanted it to be rough. Well, to keep them busy until Hacker arrived, I was prepared to do that, too. I would put up a struggle. Hopefully not so much that they’d end up injuring me, but I could stand some bruising.

I was beginning to realize that I might do almost anything for Hacker.

Boxer came at me and I looked frightened. I don’t know that I’m much for acting, but he wasn’t hard to convince. I said, “Oh, no! Please don’t tear my shirt,” and he reached out to the front of my beautiful white cotton shirt. Buttons flew as he ripped right down the front of the shirt. I reached for his wrist and he slapped me hard across the face.