Ivy League Sluts Back to A Back to main page

Collected by Djian
updated dec 12 2007

Another HarryBerg story | MOB Movies


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |
Ivy League Sluts
by HarryBerg (HarryBerg01 (at) aol (dot) com)


Chapter 26 Date Night


“Blow,” asked Adriana offering Stacy a small glass straw. The glass countertop contained several lines of white powder. Moments before Zack handed a phial of cocaine to Wynona, his date for the evening. Wynona, in Stacy’s view, was not only drop dead gorgeous with an amazing body, but her skill at cunilingus rivaled Portia’s.

She liked to show off her oral skill by placing a maraschino cherry in her mouth and tying the stem in a knot with her tongue. Stacy and Wynona enjoyed a mutual erotic attraction. Both anticipated having their head between each other’s legs before the evening was over. There was a double-ended eighteen-inch dildo in Stacy’s bag to make things interesting.

Stacy along with Adriana, Wynona, Carmen, Elena, and a new girl named Chloe who was Mark’s date were in the well-appointed Ladies Room at an upscale restaurant and lounge named Surf Side. The restaurant was located on the Revere Beach parkway and there was a constant stream of slow traffic drowning out the sound of the ocean. It was Friday night and as usual the Posse was at the Surf Side with their girl friends.

“No thanks, Adriana, I’m going to be drug tested next week. A little marijuana is okay but serious drugs would get me disqualified,” said Stacy. Stacy had reservation to fly to Houston the following week to compete for a place on the Women’s Olympic Skeet Shooting Team. Stacy was smoking a joint Portia had neatly rolled and placed in her handbag.

Heaven knows I need a break thought Stacy. School would start again in another month. After her misadventure with the Ladies of Leather, matters had calmed down. She’d felt fully recovered in three days. Portia and she had treated Dr. Myers to an uninhibited, no limits, three way that lasted the afternoon. Stacy had been surprised when the Doctor eagerly accepted Portia’s suggestion Stacy don her strap on cock and pound his ass while Portia perform orally on his penis.

So this is what its like to fuck somebody thought Stacy as she repeatedly plunged the faux penis into Gary’s rectum. He and Portia were in a tight sixty-nine clinch with the Doctor on top when Stacy positioned the dildo head at the center of his sphincter. Seconds later she was wedging herself between his buttocks to maximize penetration. Holding onto his muscular flanks she assumed the masculine role, enjoying the temporary sensation of male superiority until the Doctor announced he had dropped his load in Portia’s mouth and needed rest. Stacy promptly impaled Portia with the strapon. The Doctor watched as the two orally shared his fluids.

Stacy’s relation with Mike had settled into a routine of a date on Friday night supplemented by the frequent summon to the apartment for what Portia referred to as a booty call. Mike would text a cryptic message summoning her to the apartment for sex that ranged from a quick blowjob to hours of love making in every conceivable position.

Stacy was looking forward to spending two weeks at the National Skeet Center in Houston. It would give her a much-needed vacation from Mike Cabreeze and the insanity associated with being his girl.

Stacy watched as each of the five inhaled the cocaine into both nostrils. During the last two months, she’d witnessed a similar scene many times. The girls blinked and rubbed their noses as their eyes filled with tears. The powerful drug passed quickly into their blood stream to produce the rush of excitement and euphoria associated with cocaine. Everyone was now energized and ready to party.

Since she met Mike, she’d noticed the Posse members and their girl friends had increased their use of drugs. Mike had begun to reach in his pocket for a pharmacist’s plastic container and take two white tablets.

“He’s too smart to carry illegal drugs,” said Portia when Stacy asked her opinion. “A pill roller writes him prescriptions for Vicodin or Percoset.”

“What is he doing something stupid like that,” asked Stacy?

Portia had thought for a while when Stacy mentioned the drugs then commented. “Drugs cause criminals to eventually spin out of control. There’s a tremendous amount of pressure in the criminal world. I’ve seen it before among the street gangs in Trenton. They think the drugs help them deal with the stress but they really make it worse by increasing their paranoia. We’ve got to find a way to get you out of there.”

“But how,” asked Stacy her head resting on Portia’s shoulder?

“We have to be patient. Something will turn up eventually.”

The female members of the Posse had started using harder drugs. In the restroom’s large handicap stall, Stacy had watched Wynona mix cocaine and heroin, heat it to its melting point, and draw it into a syringe. Stacy marveled as convent-raised Adriana eagerly raised her skirt to expose her inner thigh to Wynona’s syringe. Wynona injected a speedball in all of the women except Stacy.

There were moments when Stacy wondered how much longer before she started on the hard stuff. The thought of getting high and not giving a shit about what she might be asked to do when they arrived back at the apartment had a strong appeal. Mike took pleasure in humiliating her in front of the others. It was always Stacy who wound up with semen dripping off her face or being made to suck jism out of another’s girl’s rectum. Fortunately, for reasons Portia attributed to the reverence of the average American male for sports and the Olympics, Mike had never pressed her to take drugs.

Surf Side’s cuisine was almost exclusively Italian as were its customers. The owner and manager, Tony DeMarco, was a friend of Mike’s. They had grown up together. Based on the way, Tony treated Mike and the Posse; the relationship appeared to be more than one of restaurateur and customer. Portia believed Mike could be a silent partner in the establishment even though her research of the incorporation papers showed one Anthony Francis DeMarco to be the sole owner.

The girls had been dancing together while the men were clustered at their usual corner table. Most of the time, the girls danced with one another while the men sat and talked. There was a constant parade of other men stopping by to say hello to Mike and whisper a few words in his ear. In a sense it reminded Stacy of a king holding court. As Mike’s girl, she was accorded a certain amount of deference from the other females but not the males.

There was a ritual to each Friday at Surf Side. Tony always greeted Mike at the door with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. His greeting of the other men was only slightly less restrained. He politely acknowledged the women. That seemed surprising. Tony struck Stacy as a ladies man and he and Luciana, the attractive hostess seemed to have something going on. He was good-looking and the Posse’s females were real beauties. He was polite and differential to them but kept his distance. The Posse would then go to the far end of the bar to pay their respects to an elderly gentleman who was always accompanied by two very serious males that Stacy took to be his bodyguards. She watched in amazement on her first visit as Mike kissed the old man’s hand.

“Who was the older man? Why did everybody kiss his hand?” asked Stacy when Mike was driving her back to the apartment.

“Ever hear the one about curiosity killing the cat.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t ask questions. I’ll tell you what you need to know,” said Mike.

Tonight, Stacy had noticed his mood seemed tense when she met Mike at the apartment. He hadn’t gone through his usual careful inspection of Stacy’s appearance. Mike had definite ideas on how Stacy should dress. Failure to meet his approval resulted in her being sent back to the condo for something different to wear. Mike’s normal means of communicating his disapproval was to slap her hard then twist her arm behind her back until she begged him to stop. Once he ripped her dress off and she had to drive home in her underwear.

Stacy worked hard at pleasing him. Before Mike Cabreeze came into her life, she considered herself one of those women who paid little attention to clothes and make-up. From her childhood her mother had drilled into her female beauty was a quickly passing phase in youth obsessed America. She should concentrate on gaining a good education that would last a lifetime. Something of a tomboy who spent her free time at the skeet range, she’d owned mainly jeans and tops. Mike changed all that overnight.

Now Stacy spent hours shopping in the boutiques on Boston’s ultra-hip Newbury Street. The recent movement out of the dorm provided the luxury of an enormous walk in closet. She was rapidly filling it up with expensive clothes. For the first time in her life, she ordered subscriptions to fashion magazines and had a standing appointment at the most expensive hair stylists on Newbury Street. Her parents had been surprised at the transformation of their daughter but they paid the bills and didn’t complain.

Her mother was convinced she was having an affair with a wealthy married man. Two weeks before she had confirmed her suspicions. Stacy was on the way to meet Mike but had to drop off some documents she’d signed having to do with her trust fund.

“My God, Doreen, could that be our daughter,” said her father when Stacy rushed in to hand him the papers?

She was wearing a Prada cocktail dress. Her hair had been styled. Her bag and shoes matched the dress perfectly. Stacy was aware she turned heads in the dress. But that was what Mike wanted.

“Are those Grandmother Todd’s diamonds,” asked her mother noting the sparkling earrings, necklace, and bracelet?

“Yes, I didn’t see any point in letting then sit in a safe deposit box,” said Stacy.

“You look very beautiful. What kind of a man deserves you?” said her father.

“It’s just a date,” said Stacy handing him the documents.

“I hope you know what you’re doing. Married men never leave their wives,” said her mother when they had a moment alone.

“Mother, don’t start. I’ve got to run,” said Stacy leaving quickly before they got into a row.

“You’re my girl and I expect you to turn heads everywhere you go but especially when you’re with me,” said Mike when they first started going out. He’d just slapped Stacy hard for wearing the same dress she’d worn before. He’d said she looked good in it so she made the mistake of assuming he would like to see her in it again. Instead he became furious others would see her wearing the same dress.

After he slapped her, he spun her around. He grabbed her wrist pulling her arm behind her back as he forced her to the floor. She thought her arm was going to break as he reached down to force her face to the top of his shoes.

“Kiss them,” said Mike.

“What,” asked an uncomprehending Stacy.

“I said kiss my shoes, you stupid cunt. Lick them.”

“You’re going to break my arm.”

“You fuck up again and I’ll break both your arms and legs. Now lick my shoes. Put that whore’s tongue to the leather or so help me I’ll break it off,” said Mike twisting Stacy’s arm further.

Stacy tasted the oily smell of shoe polish as she licked the tops of Mike’s loafers.

When she finished, Mike hauled her back to her feet. “You got forty five minutes to get back to your place, change, and get back here. If you’re not on time or you’re wearing some piece of shit, I’m going to whip your butt till it bleeds.”

“One day I’m going to kill that mother fucker,” said a near hysterical Stacy when she came flying into the condo. Portia immediately quit practicing to help Stacy redress. Strangely enough, the rest of the evening had gone smoothly ending as usual in an orgy of group sex back at the apartment.

But tonight, Mike and the others seemed pre-occupied. They paid little attention to the girls. Carmen and Elena, the girlfriends of the Epps brothers arrived without their dates. That was unusual. When Stacy discreetly asked about the brothers, Carmen said they were busy elsewhere but would arrive soon.

Later, when the girls were on the dance floor, Stacy saw Bobby and Brad enter. Bobby spoke briefly to Mike then the three of them left the dining room passing through a door marked Employees Only.

I shouldn’t do this thought Stacy as she followed the three. Mike will beat the shit out of me if he catches me. Maybe I can lie and pretend to be drunk and horny. Who am I kidding? He’d never believe that.

Stacy found herself at the top of a steep flight of steps. She removed her shoes aware stiletto heels would make too much noise on the wooden steps. Moving slowly she managed to make it to the bottom with a few barely audible sounds. When she stepped off the bottom step, she was in the basement. The restaurant was built in two parts. One part was an older renovated beach house that served as the office and living quarters for the owner. The other larger and newer part was the restaurant and lounge. Stacy realized she was in the basement of the beach house. Surf Side was built into a slight elevation. The main entrance and top floor was level with the beach road in front of the restaurant. But one could drive around the building and park at the lower basement level.

The dimly lit full basement was almost empty except for some no longer used kitchen equipment. She saw light from a door on the far side of the room. Stacy walked quietly across the cold concrete floor toward the light. Two semi-finished walls and the basement corner had been used to build a room. Whoever had constructed the room had done a poor job. The walls were unfinished studs and plywood. Stacy saw light passing through a crack between two sheets of plywood. She moved close enough to look.

Mike and the Epps brothers were standing over a young couple seated in straight chairs. Stacy guessed their age as late twenties to mid thirties. She had never seen either of them before. The odd thing was that they were dressed as if they had been on a beach or out on a lake.

The man was wearing a pair of flowered bathing trunks that reached to his knees, the woman a bikini. Stacy saw she had a good well-tanned figure. When Bobby stepped to the side, Stacy could see that the couple was handcuffed to the chairs.

“Robbie, you’ve disappointed me,” said Mike standing over the man.

“Mike, I swear on my mother’s grave, I put the money in the bag and gave it to Mendez,” said Robbie.

“He’s telling the truth, Mike. I saw him do it. Mendez emptied the bag before he brought it to you,” said the woman.

“Mendez said he didn’t open the bag, Alisha,” said Mike. “And I believe him.”

“Mike, you believe a lousy Puerto Rican over someone who grew up with you. Mike, come on now. We both graduated high school together. We’re Revere Patriots,” said Robbie sounding increasingly desperate.

“It’s been a tough season for the point spread in the NBA finals,” said Mike.

Stacy vaguely recalled professional basketball playoffs had been in the sports news lately. The Boston Celtics had been quickly eliminated infuriating local fans.

“I lost a few bucks,” said Robbie looking increasingly worried.

“A few, you call $48,000 a few,” said Mike.

“I was just looking to make some extra cash. I got this buddy who knows one of the trainers,” said Robbie. “But the guy was a fuck up. His tips were lousy. That’s not my fault.”

“Shut the fuck up, Robbie,” screamed Alisha.

“You know, Alisha, when you open your mouth, you have beautiful white teeth. You must go to one of those dentists who whitens them,” said Mike walking over to a table placed against the wall right where Stacy was hiding. She held her breath as Mike hesitated a moment looking almost directly at her. God, he can sense I’m here thought Stacy on the verge of panic holding her breath. But Mike picked up a pair of common pliers and walked back toward the pair.

“Doctor Edmonds does it. He’s good. Come on, Mike. Robbie will make up the missing money. I’ll make sure he’s good for it,” said Alisha.

“Hold her, Bobby,” said Mike.

Bobby wrapped one arm around Alisha’s forehead. He grabbed her chin with his other hand and slowly forced the struggling and screaming woman’s mouth open.

“Don’t Mike, for the love of Christ, don’t,” screamed Robbie.

“I considered being a dentist when I attended Career Day at Revere High,” said Mike capturing one of Alisha’s front teeth in the pliers.

With her mouth open Alisha couldn’t scream but her struggles showed the pain was awful.

“Oh God no,” sobbed Robbie as Mike slowly pulled out one of Alisha’s front teeth.

“And old time dentist had strong hands. Teeth have deep roots and they’re curved around the jaw bone,” said Mike wiggling the pliers back and forth as he eased the bloody tooth out of the socket. Mike examined it for a second then allowed it to drop on the floor. It made a clicking sound when it landed and rolled away. Blood was cascading down Alisha’s chin onto the top of her breasts.

Mike went back to work with the pliers. There was an audible crack.

“Fucker broke off,” said Mike as he dropped the bloody top of a tooth to the floor. “Open her mouth wider. I’m going for a molar.”

“Mike, I fucked up. I’m sorry. You know what a fuck up I can be. You used to call me that when we went to school, Robbie the fuck up. Please, I’m begging you,” said Robbie breaking into loud sobs.

Mike ignored Robbie’s pleas. Alisha’s struggles grew quieter then she passed out. Stacy watched as Mike littered the floor with Alisha’s teeth. After the first two, the extractions went faster. When he stepped away, Stacy had a direct view of Alisha’s open mouth. Almost all of her front teeth were missing.

“My arm’s getting tired,” said Mike handing the pliers to Bobby.

“Nothing left but a few broken stumps,” said Bobby after a few several minutes of amateur dentistry. She was unconscious blowing red bubbles as she moaned. In her struggles, her bikini top had slipped down exposing her breasts. Blood was slowly oozing over her lower lip.

“Your turn, Robbie,” said Mike as Brad took hold of Robbie’s head forcing his mouth open.

Robbie struggled but he was no match for Brad’s gym built arms.

“Sucker just won’t come out,” said Mike straining to remove one of Robbie’s bicuspids.

Alisha recovered to the point she was making babbling sounds. Stacy noted that people look terrible without their teeth. Alisha’s face had sunk in making her look twenty years older.

Stacy was becoming nauseated watching Mike work on Robbie. Yet she felt riveted to the spot unable to leave. After Mike removed several teeth, Bobby took over to finish the job.

As Bobby extracted Robbie’s teeth one by one, Mike walked over to a cabinet packed with cleaning supplies. Stacy watched as he removed a square gallon can and read the label.

“Muriatic acid, this stuff can clean paint off concrete,” said Mike turning around holding the can.

Stacy watched in total horror as they filled Alisha and Robbie’s bleeding mouth with the contents of the can. The reaction of the two when the acid came in contact with their ravaged gums was awful. The pain must have been off the charts. They struggled violently against the handcuffs and would have overturned the chairs except that Brad and Bobby held them upright.

Stacy’s nostrils caught the smell of a strong chemical and burning flesh. She had witnessed all she could stand and began to silently creep back to the stairs. Mike spoke the last words she heard from the room.

“Put them back on the boat and take them out and dump them. Make sure they’re conscious when you toss them overboard,” said Mike.


***



“My God you witnessed a mob hit,” said Portia eyeing the dial on the surveillance system that Stacy had bought at her behest. It was the latest in anti-surveillance technology. Reviews by several independent security consultants sung its praises. The system could detect hidden microphones, wireless transmitters, and CCTV cameras while broadcasting a high frequency signal rendering the surveillance equipment useless. For the first time in months, the girls could talk freely. Before they were forced to jog along Memorial Drive if they had something to communicate about the Posse.

Stacy had also contracted with a local security company to perform a weekly sweep of the condo. So far, no hidden microphones or cameras had been discovered. It was early Saturday morning and the two were discussing what Stacy had witnessed the night before.

“They’re crooked cops not the mob,” said Stacy.

“They’re crooked cops tied in with Cosa Nostra, the Mafia,” said Portia. “Surf Side is obviously a mob hangout. I bet the food is delicious.”

“The food is extraordinary and fattening. I have to watch what I eat. I always order fish. I wonder who Robbie and Alisha were,” said Stacy.

“Were in their case is the operative word. You never, ever steal from the Mob. They take that in the worst way. There is honesty among thieves. I’ll search for media stories about a missing couple named Robert and Alisha,” said Portia.

“I almost puked when I saw what Mike was doing to them,” said Stacy.

“They make it as awful a death as possible as a warning to others. In Trenton, the Mob was known for throwing people alive into the city incinerator,” said Portia. “Promise me you won’t do anything like that again. If they had caught you, you’d be dead too.”

“I was going to pretend to be drunk and horny.”

“That would not have mattered. You witnessed a double murder. You could testify against Mike and the Epps. They would have killed you for sure. Never become a witness if you can help it.”

“You’re right I was stupid,” said Stacy after thinking for a moment.

“Anything else happen,” asked Portia.

“Nope, for once, Mike did not find a reason to criticize me. He was too preoccupied to pay me much mind. When we got back to the apartment, everybody got naked and it became a fuck-a-thon. Mark’s new girl Chloe is just a kid but they made sure she sampled every available cock and cunt.”

“How was she,” asked Portia?

“She did great until Zack introduced her to anal for the first time.”

“She’d never done anal,” asked Portia?

“No, I hadn’t done it either until the Posse came into my life. Zack sort of snuck up on her. She was pretty high. He rammed his dick in her backdoor before she realized what was happening. It was almost funny the way her eyes bugged out when she realized somebody was stirring her shit.”

“How did she react,” asked Portia?

“She has a very annoying squeal and a long list of curse words she’s not afraid to use. And typical of the Posse if you tell them something hurts, they make it worse. They shut her up with a pump gag. Then they placed her in a shoulder stand and Mark added his cock to Zack’s.”

“They doubled in her virgin asshole,” asked Portia? “That must have been painful.”

“Yes, I would have to agree based on how she fought them. Mark is the best-endowed member of the Posse. Her anal ring was practically transparent it was stretched so thin.”

“Being able to handle double anal is a learned skill,” said Portia confidently.

“Chloe’s something of an airhead. Instead of sucking it up and acting like it was a wonderful erotic experience, she kept struggling,” said Stacy.

“That encouraged them to make it worse.”

“Of course not, no mercy with that group. Bobby tried to add his dick to her butthole’s occupants but he was too large to get close enough. If you ever want three cocks in your ass simultaneously, find three very thin men with long dicks. Bobby’s shoulders are a yard wide.”

“What happened next?”

“Mark and Zack removed their cocks. Bobby, not to be denied, squired a half bottle of Easy Glide in her open hope then fisted her,” said Stacy.

“You’re kidding,” said Portia.

“He did it quick too. I’m surprised he didn’t rupture something,” said Stacy.

“She reacted how?”

“Fainted dead away,” said Stacy.

“How did it end?”

“Bobby carried her into the bathroom and set her in the tub.”

“I can guess what happened next,” said Portia.

“Golden Showers, we all contributed,” said Stacy.

“Did she wake up during her shower?”

“Yes, and unfortunately for her the first thing she did was open her mouth to scream,” said Stacy.

“Dumb, very dumb, best to keep your mouth shut when folks are peeing in your face,” said Portia.

“So you think three cocks in one asshole are possible if the men are skinny and favored by Phallus,” asked Portia?

“Yes, although it needs to be proven,” said Stacy.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I wonder if Monk and Les have a skinny friend. Bobby’s fist must have been even worse.”

“It was. One of the first times I saw you have sex, Monk and Les were screwing you anally at the same time,” said Stacy.

“I love that stretched feeling with two Prince Albert’s raking my rectum. So how did it all end up?” said Portia?

“After we gave Chloe her piss bath, the guys ordered we ladies on our elbows and knees and fucked our ass. They kept swapping around until all six had enjoyed our backdoor. When one of the Posse drops his load, I am the designated felcher who gets to extract the semen and asshole cocktail then share it with the girl whose butt I just sucked dry.”

“Who did your butt,” asked Portia?

“Wynona,” said Stacy.

“I’m surprised I haven’t caught some horrible disease.”

“Why you,” asked Portia?

“Mike,” said Stacy.

“He delights in degrading you,” said Portia. “It’s because he envies you. He perceives you as coming from wealth and privilege. He admires you in his own way but he needs to constantly reassure himself he’s your superior.”

“Yes, Dr. Freud, he makes a point of it. If somebody’s cock has just left a dirty asshole, then according to Mike, it’s my job to lick it clean. And if a Posse member, had deposited a load deep in a girl’s rectum, Stacy is the one to suck it out and take it down to her tummy.”

“Anything else unusual happen?”

“No, just the normal non stop pussy eating and cock sucking until we wore the guys out. Wynona and I slipped the double inside our cunts then got close enough to rub out clits together. That got me off big time. After that, we ladies formed a daisy chain and ate each other to a roaring climax. We ended by gang fucking Chloe. She almost went out of her mind when the five of us did her. ”

“So it’s a dinner date where you know you’re going to be fucked. You just don’t know by who and how many,” said Portia carefully applying red lacquer to Stacy’s toenail.

“The general guideline is that all present, male and female, are going to have you in some way. And as if I don’t have enough trouble, my Mom called last week to ask me if I was seeing someone. She had been going over the family’s personal bills when Althea asked her if I was dating someone special,” said Stacy applying black lacquer to Portia’s toenail.

“Althea, who’s that?”

“Our accountant, she takes care of our finances,” said Stacy.

“The rich are different as Fitzgerald wrote. My parents set down every Saturday morning and try to figure out how to pay their bills. They calculate how much they have left on their credit cards to see if they can make it through the week. How would your accountant know you’ve been dating someone?”

“I’ve been buying a new dress every week, an expensive one. That’s a new thing for me. Remember, Mike went berserk the time I wore one he’d seen before. He slapped me then threatened to rip it off and make me drive home naked. I’ve also bought shoes, underwear, perfume, make up, and nail lacquer. Plus I’m getting my hair styled.”

“Your relationship with him would make a good case study. He’s costing you a fortune. It’s a good thing you’re rich. So what did you tell your Mom?”

“I told her I had been dating someone. What else could I say?”

“She accepted that?”

“Not really, she asked who and when I said no one special, she asked me if he was married. I practically peed in my pants.”

“How did she figure that out,” asked Portia?

“Outside of the fact I consider her psychic where I’m concerned, I think it was the clothes. Mom’s no dummy either.”

“Why? What did she say?”

“You don’t spend five hundred dollars on a dress to go out for pizza with a grad student. He must take you to nice places. He’s older and he’s married. Isn’t he?”

“She is intuitive. My Mom never had a clue what I was up to. So did you fess up?” said Portia.

“I said he was married with four kids which is a lie. Mike’s only got two, a boy and a girl.”

“And what did Doreen say to that?”

“He’ll never leave his wife. You’re wasting your life. She started telling me how Lorraine Baker, her best friend in college, dated a married man for seven years but even though he promised, he never got that divorce.”

“That’s true. They usually don’t. So how did you leave it with her?”

“I told her I wasn’t interested in marrying him but that the sex was fabulous,” said Stacy.

“And a pregnant pause ensued?”

“Yes, then she said I was just like my father. She asked about you by the way?”

“Really, what did she say?”

“She asked how you were doing? I told her you were doing terrific. You had a good gig at a club that just opened.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think she liked me,” said Portia referring to a recent weekend when Stacy had invited her home.

“I admit at first she was a little put off. Mom’s not partial to the idea of youthful rebellion or Goth make-up; but when you sat down at her piano and played she became your biggest fan. And after the two of you played that four handed piece, she was ready to kick me out and adopt you.”

“Your Mom loves the piano and she plays well. She’d be even better if she practiced more. I couldn’t believe she actually has a nine-foot Imperial Bosendorfer in her home just like the one in Carnegie Hall. It was quite a thrill just to play it.”

“Dad bought it for their twenty fifth anniversary. She made me take lessons for three years before my teacher persuaded her I had neither talent nor interest.”

“So how did you leave it with Doreen?”

“We will chat the next time I’m home,” said Stacy.

Chapter 27 Taking Down the Russo’s


It was late afternoon when Stacy’s cell phone displayed Mike’s abbreviated text message summoning her to the apartment. It read, “Now, Mike”. She assumed it was another weekday booty call. With practically no notice, she was obliged to change into something sexy, drive immediately to the apartment and in Portia’s words, “kneel down and open wide.” Stacy felt guilty that she looked forward to getting the summons. There was something about the off handed way Mike treated her she found erotic. That day was to prove both the same and different.

Mike was seated on the couch watching the Red Sox lose to the Angels when Stacy entered the apartment. He motioned for her to keep quiet as he opened his legs. Stacy dropped her purse and keys on the coffee table then pulled her skirt up to expose her stocking tops as she knelt. Before Mike and the Posse came into her life, she’d never pictured herself performing sexually in such a cold, detached fashion. She’d envisioned lovemaking as two intertwined bodies passionately concerned with each other’s pleasure. But to Stacy’s surprise, she found it incredibly erotic when Mike ignored her while she worked hard to bring his cock to erection. It was a challenge but one that made her wet.

“Fucking Sox,” said Mike as Stacy unzipped his trousers and fished his limp penis out of his boxer shorts.

“What’s the score,” asked Stacy as she bent forward to lick the tip of his cock? She loved the way it twitched at the first touch of her tongue.

“Six to three, Anaheim, bottom of the ninth, Sox are up, two outs, man on first,” said Mike. “They’re going to lose as usual.”

“Who’s batting?”

“Carter, full count,” said Mike. “One more pitch and its over.”

“Isn’t he new?” asked Stacy as she formed her lips around the flare of the mushroom head and passed her tongue over the tip? Mike had an unusually large piss slit and Stacy could twirl the tip of her tongue in it. Her tongue traveled clockwise then counterclockwise. She had the odd thought that if she was in Australia, her tongue would move in the opposite directions.

“Just up from Pawtucket, pinch hitting for Sherman and guess what. The motherfucker got a base hit. Mercer‘s next. Maybe he can connect.”

“Mercer’s cute,” said Stacy raising his cock to lick his balls. Troy Mercer was the Red Sox’s centerfielder. He was featured in television and billboard advertisements for a local car dealer. His handsome face was everywhere.

“Want to fuck him, Stacy?”

“Sure, why not.”

“You’re a regular little whore now. Aren’t you? Fuck anything with a prick,” said Mike taking his cock in hand and slapping it hard across her cheek.

“I was innocent until I met you. You made me a whore,” said Stacy opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out for Mike to rest his cock on. She moved her tongue over the bottom looking him straight in the eye as she played.

“Sleazy fucking slut, I pity the bastard who marries you,” said Mike.

It was only a few minutes of active oral service before Mike spoke again. “Walked him, the motherfucker walked him. Bases are loaded. Tyler’s at bat. That’s it. Game’s over. Asshole’s struck out the last six times, batting .223”

“Tyler’s due,” said Stacy taking a break from working Mike’s shaft, going a little deeper each time, enjoying the feel of the head briefly filling the opening to her throat.

“Grand Slam Home fucking run, who would have thought it,” said Mike reaching for the remote to turn off the television.

Minutes later, Stacy’s warm and active mouth had brought Mike erect when his cell phone rang. “Keep sucking and keep quiet,” said Mike after he glanced at the Caller ID. Stacy continued her oral ministrations as she listened to one side of the conversation.

“You owe me ten large, Marv,” said Mike immediately. “Put me down for two on the night game.”

“Life’s good. Sox won. Getting a hummer.”

“You don’t know her.”

“Yeah, she’s good. No, she’s not a pro.”

“Say hello to Marv, Stacy. The most dishonest bookie in New England,” said Mike holding the phone to Stacy’s ear.

“Hello Marv,” said Stacy taking Mike’s cock out of her mouth to talk.

“Hi, Stacy, want to come over here and polish my knob,” asked Marv?

“Don’t know, Marv, got all the cock I can handle here,” said Stacy.

“Got a mouthful, huh,” said Marv.

“Yeah, and loving it,” said Stacy. “Listen.” Stacy held the phone beside her mouth as she noisily licked and sucked Mike’s penis.

“Turn your cell phone camera on and I’ll send you some porn,” said Mike taking the cell back to his ear.

“Smile while you suck,” said Mike. When Stacy looked up, she saw Mike had focused the cell phone’s camera on her and was transmitting the images. The fact her face with Mike’s cock in her mouth was being transmitted over the airwaves struck Stacy as bizarre and somewhat frightening.

“Yeah, she’s hot and sucks dick better than Nina Lobetti.”

“That was a while ago. Last I heard she married this guy who owned a roofing contractor and moved to Worcester. How’s Ray doing?”

“Jesus, that’s rough. Chemo never seems to do any fucking good and leaves you sick as a dog. You tell Ray anything, and I mean anything, he needs, let me know.”

“Sure, she will if I tell her. Cunt is trained.”

“So, he’d got no hair and there’s a tube in his nose. She’s a Harvard girl. She can handle it.”

“No, would I bullshit a bullshitter. She’s a student at Harvard. Her name is Stacy Todd. Her mom and dad are both doctors. Family’s filthy fucking rich.”

“She finds my cock irresistible. Don’t you Stacy?” said Mike once again holding the phone to Stacy’s ear.

“Yes, Mike, it’s like a black hole in the universe. It pulls me in no matter how much I try to resist it,” said Stacy.

“Hear that, Marv. Who the fuck knows what she means? She’s supposed to be highly intelligent with perfect SAT’s. But at the moment, the dumb cunt is down on her knees licking my dirty dick.”

“So where do I send her? Stacy, write this down.”

Stacy grabbed a pen and paper from her purse and wrote down the information as Mike spoke.

“Ray Luchino, 122 Revere Beach Parkway, Camden Manor, No. 2244. Ask for Leticia. She’s his nurse”

Stacy had to ask how to spell Luchino?

“She should be finished here in about an hour. So she should be there by six. Give Ray my best.” Mike ended the call then spoke to Stacy. “After we’re done here, drive over to that address and give my old buddy Ray a final fuck. They’re moving him to the hospice tomorrow.”

“You want me to have sex with a dying man who I’ve never met,” asked Stacy?

“Sure, why not? A few minutes ago, you said you’d fuck Troy Mercer and you’ve never met him. Just pretend Ray’s really Mercer without hair and an oxygen tube in his nostril.”

“What happened to him,” asked Stacy?

“Cancer of the throat, Ray started smoking in high school, three packs a day unfiltered. They took his larynx out last year. He talks through one of those electronic voice boxes, sounds creepy as hell.”

“Christ, I’m not sure I can do it,” said Stacy.

“It’s a one time thing. He’s moving to the hospice tomorrow. Marv says he’s got less than a month left and that’s pushing it.”

“How do I know I can get him off?”

“You don’t. Treat it as a challenge. But don’t fuck it up because if I hear you didn’t perform, I’ll have Lou take Portia over to a crack house and let a dozen AIDS infected junkies fuck her ass bareback.”

“I’ll do it. There’s no need to involve Portia.”

“Good, it’ll be your good deed for the week. Now, let’s go into the bedroom. After you get me off, I got another job for you,” said Mike.

Stacy savored the flavor of Mike’s precum as they walked to the bedroom. Once there, her first task was to undress him. Stacy had learned the hard way to be extra careful hanging his suit. Failure to correctly align the trousers crease would result in a single hard slap if she were lucky, more if he’d had a bad day. The first time she had messed up, he had taken her over his knees and spanked her until her butt was cherry red and she was pleading with him to stop. She had learned how to precisely fold and place each garment.

Stacy occasionally messed up the crease on purpose. For reasons she didn’t understand, she needed to feel his open palm landing on her cheek, snapping her head to one side, filling her mouth with the taste of her own blood.

Stacy had told Portia about her need for Mike to cause her pain.

“I’m a sicko. I should go into therapy,” said Stacy when the two girls were enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon of lesbian sex. It was raining. A DVD of half a dozen Japanese school girls having lesbian sex was playing the large flat screen television.

“Nonsense, you just have a normal girl’s desire to have her sexual experiences heightened by a little pain. There’s a little masochist in all of us. Why do I occasionally ask Monk and Les to spank my butt? It’s something we females need. If you want, I’ll buy a paddle and we can warm each other’s tush when we want pain with our sex.”

“I’d like that. Not on days like today but there are times when I’d love for you to turn my fanny red.”

“Consider it done. Now, discussion over, it’s my turn to eat your pussy,” said Portia turning toward her and sliding down in the bed. Moments later, the only thing on Stacy’s mind was how good Portia’s mouth felt on her sex.

Once Mike was naked, he lay on the bed and watched Stacy undress down to her panty and bra. Mike had stipulated the styles and even the brands of lingerie she was to wear and it was always to be new, never worn before. Today’s was ivory hued raw silk from the La Perla boutique in downtown Boston.

“Nice, I like those, very sexy,” said Mike eyeing the style of panty Stacy was wearing. What are they called?”

“Boy shorts,” said Stacy bending over so Mike could see how they exposed her lower buttocks.

“Boy shorts, funny name, I’ll have to tell Connie to buy some boy shorts.”

Stacy posed for Mike, pleased she’d received one of his rare complements. It wasn’t like she didn’t try very hard to please him. Her stay-up hose were Velvet Deluxe 50 made by an exclusive British firm, Wolford. Everything was expensive and looked it.

Show over, Stacy climbed on the bed to provide more oral sex. Mike raised his legs grabbing his big toes pulling them toward his head rotating his butt toward the ceiling. For a man who claimed to never exercise, he was remarkably flexible. It was his unspoken way of demanding analingus.

Stacy didn’t hesitate to apply her mouth to his sphincter. Months ago, she’d discovered ‘eating ass’ was a major turn on. The musky smell, taste, and texture of the anus drove her to distraction. She buried her face in his butt crack, sucking and massaged the wrinkled skin with her lips as she made grunting noises. When she felt the circular muscle relax, she eagerly pushed the tip of her tongue inside his rectum. Mike called her his pig whore for the way she rooted her face between his buttocks.

Using a combination of fingers, lips, and tongue, she massaged his rectum and rubbed his prostate until he dropped his legs signaling she was to return her mouth to his cock. Once Mike was fully aroused Stacy climbed off the bed and provocatively removed her panty and bra in what had become a ritual every step of which he directed. Naked, she offered herself to him in a fashion that emphasized her subservience.

Stacy stood beside the bed with her backside facing Mike. She bent slowly over at the waist crouching slightly to spread her buttocks and expose her anus. “You want my ass or my pussy, or both,” asked Stacy looking expectantly over her shoulder at Mike. One hand reached back to insert a wet index finger into her anus. Two fingers of her other hand were inside her vagina.

“Always make me think you want me more than I want you,” said Mike when he was telling her how to act. That turned out to be easy for Stacy because it was true.

“Pussy tonight,” said Mike.

Stacy climbed on the bed straddling Mike. Maintaining eye contact she began to slowly manipulate her clit. The other hand lifted her breast as she bent her head to suck her own nipple. Her fingers worked her vagina until her fluids were smeared over her sex. Sometimes he made her finger her cunt until it frothed but not this afternoon.

When fully lubricated she squatted down guiding Mike’s cock with one hand while she parted her labia with the other. Mike liked to enter her slowly, watching his cock disappear into her. As soon as he was inside she brought the various muscle groups affecting the walls of her vagina into play. Stacy and Portia had practiced the correct moves dozens of times with a dildo.

She closed her eyes and centered her being on her vagina. She gently pushed all other thoughts from her mind focusing only on the manhood inside her body. Then she slowly exhaled drawing her bellybutton to her backbone as she contracted the muscles lining her vagina by lifting and rotating her pelvic floor. It was a technique Portia had taught her.

“Only a born whore can fuck like you,” said Mike the first time she had tried out her new skill on him.

“Portia taught me how,” said Stacy contracting her abdomen as she raised her body.

“Whores are born not made and New Jersey is the whore state,” said Mike experiencing intense pleasure. “I knew what you were the first time I saw you in that courtroom, looking all pissed because you were going to plead guilty to something you didn’t do.”

“I was innocent,” said Stacy.

“That’s not how the system works,” said Mike.

Mounted on his cock with her clit firmly in contact with his pubic region, Stacy allowed her lust free reign. Cursing, sweating, constantly moving, she fucked him until he climaxed. Sometimes he helped by pinching and twisting her nipples but for the most part, he lay there motionless allowing her to make all the effort. Her fingers maintained her orgasmic state at a plateau. She completely gave into her orgasm only after she felt his semen enter her vagina.

Sex over, she was expected to go to the bathroom, wet a washcloth in warm water and return to clean his cock. The odd thing as she explained to Portia was that she considered these encounters so incredibly erotic she could employ them as masturbatory fantasies for days afterwards. Normally, as soon as Mike ejaculated and she washed him, he got dressed and left. But this time, he held her for several minutes with her head resting on his shoulder.

“Don’t move. We need to talk. I got an assignment for you. This one will require some brains so pay attention,” said Mike getting up and leaving the room. Stacy could tell from his direction and noise, he had visited the hidden storage closet in the spare bedroom. When he returned he was carrying a thick manila file folder.

“You know them,” asked Mike handing her the folder as climbed back in bed? “They’re the couple on the magazine cover.”

“No, should I,” answered Stacy studying the glossy cover of a local magazine called Cambridge Today? The caption read, “City’s Newest Power Couple”.

“My guess is you’re going to enjoy this,” said Mike.

“And it involves the Russos,” asked Stacy her sense of unease growing.

“Of course, dummy, why else would I give you a folder marked, “Gary and Vera Russo.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Read the article first then summarize it.”

Stacy carefully read the three-page article and studied the pictures before speaking. “He’s an Assistant District Attorney who’s considering running for Congress when the incumbent retires next term. She’s the Principal of a private high school plus on the board of the prestigious Wainwright Foundation that makes several million in grants each year to the arts.”

“Solid respectable citizens building a better Cambridge, what else,” asked Mike?

“They’re local yuppies with good educations, challenging jobs, and excellent futures. They claim to have a happy and successful marriage but who the fuck doesn’t. Vera Russo is quoted as stating Gary is not only her husband but also her best friend. What a cliché that’s become? They were college sweethearts at Boston University. He went to law school at Suffolk. She has a doctorate in Education from Syracuse. They have two children, Jared and Alicia, both pre-school. They sound too good to be true. This is called a puff piece. There’s nothing negative or even slightly critical.”

“It’s good to see Harvard students can read and comprehend. Attorney Russo is an ambitious man who poses a problem for the Posse. I want to nip it in the bud,” said Mike. “A snitch has been whispering in his ear something’s not right down at Cambridge PD. So he’s been sniffing around.”

“And how am I to stop him,” asked Stacy? “Catch him shoplifting?”

“One of these days that smart mouth of yours is going to get you into serious trouble and you’re going to wind up in Boston Harbor wishing you had an air tank,” said Mike.

“Sorry, I just have no idea what you’re asking me to do,” said Stacy snuggling up against Mike’s shoulder then turning to kiss him on the cheek. “Aren’t we lovers and best friends,” teased Stacy?

“You’re my whore and I’m your worst nightmare and I know that’s a cliché. Tell me about the Russo’s.”

“They’re too good to be true,” said Stacy.

“Gary and Vera are a very straight couple except for one little thing,” said Mike. “Look at the rest of the folder.”

“It’s a print out of a chat room conversation,” said Stacy recognizing the format.

“Yeah, right, from their home office computer.”

“How did you get this?” asked Stacy wondering how Mike had managed to acquire something so private.

“How is not your concern, just read and understand,” said Mike.

Later that evening, Portia explained how easy it is to install Spyware on someone’s computer and secretly record every keystroke and screen image then later retrieve the captured data through the Internet. When Stacy asked Portia if there was the possibility he might have installed Spyware on their computers, Portia had a ready answer.

“Remember Simon, the geek I was blowing the other day when you unexpectedly walked in on us,” said Portia.

“Yes, I never saw anyone loose a hardon so quick. You could see it go soft,” said Stacy.

“Geeks are shy, especially those at MIT. Simon was a twenty five year old virgin until he met me,” said Portia.

“You slut, you took away his purity,” said Stacy.

“He has agreed to allow me to defile him each time a new Spyware Detection update is released. He works part time for a company that provides software to the CIA, FBI, and the DOD. We have the finest Uncle Sam’s billions can buy,” said Portia.

“I wish I could have watched you do Simon the first time. I’ve never seen a man loose his virginity. Did he bleed a lot? Did it hurt?” said Stacy.

“He cried on my shoulder. I had to tell him I still loved and respected him,” said Portia.

“The next male virgin who walks through that door is mine,” said Stacy pulling Portia onto her lap.

“You know about chat rooms,” asked Mike?

“Yes, of course, all my friends in high school chatted. The school encouraged it as a means to master computer skills. Harvard and MIT have hundreds of chatrooms; but I’m too busy fucking you to chat.”

“Yeah, bunch of horny school girls talking about getting some dick in their slimy twats.”

“Sometimes and there were other times we chatted about calculus problems.”

“So tell me what you’re looking at?”

“The name of the chat room is Boston BiCouples and one of the Russo’s has signed on as HotPairFor69,” said Stacy looking at the pages of text. “After some preliminary bullshit HotPairFor69 announces they are a couple looking to meet bisexual females NSA.”

“NSA, what does that mean,” asked Mike?

“No Strings Attached, meet, fuck, and leave, don’t expect to be asked to stay for coffee,” said Stacy. “NSA hookups are popular among the students at Harvard and MIT. Lots of high school and even middle school kids are into NSA sex.”

“I ever catch Calistra NSA hooking up with some creep; I’ll beat the shit out of him and her. Keep reading,” said Mike.

“HotPairFor69 has a number of IM and private chat sessions with several other users.”

“IM, what the fuck’s that,” asked Mike?

“Instant Messaging, if you have IM software installed on your PC and pretty much everyone does, then anyone who knows your Internet name can send you a message and engage in a private chat session,” said Stacy.

“Calistra is on her computer all the time. You mean some pedophile could send her a message?”

“Yes, you should warm her about pedophiles. She should never give out any personal information and under no circumstances agree to meet anyone she doesn’t know. That cute sounding boy can turn out to be a forty year old child rapist.”

“I bet Connie doesn’t know that,” said Mike.

“Calistra may be more aware of the problem than you would think. Cyber pedophiles tend to prey on lonely, neglected or abused children. If your daughter’s happy and well adjusted, she’s reasonably safe,” said Stacy.

“Of course, she’s happy and well-adjusted. But I’ll tell Connie to talk to her. Now where were we?”

“HotPairFor69 has a brief conversation with Jchrysler12 who turns out to be a guy,” said Stacy smiling as she looked through the pages of text. “HotPair69 tells him to fuck off, not very nice.”

“Skip down to the last couple of pages. I told Connie I would be home early. It’s my night to help Mikey with his math homework.”

“Is that the Russo’s naked,” asked Stacy looking at the neck down color image of a couple? HotPairFor69 had emailed an embedded image to someone named GirlyGirl19. Their heads had been cropped. The image was taken outdoors on a beach.

“I assume so unless they’re sending somebody else’s picture,” said Mike.

“Nice bodies, Gary’s a tripod,” said Stacy noting their trim muscular figures and the impressive looking instrument hanging between Gary Russo’s legs. “I wonder if they’re nudists.”

“They’re vegans and that was taken at a clothing optional resort in Jamaica,” said Mike. “They’re also runners. They both finished the Boston Marathon last year in a little over three hours.”

“Being a vegan doesn’t prevent HotPairFor69 from telling GirlyGirl19 how much she likes to eat pussy while her husband watches. So HotPairFor69 is Vera. Where’s Gary while Vera chats, looking over her shoulder?” said Stacy scanning through the loose pages of text.

“Vera is the one who sets things up,” said Mike. “Gary is the follower.”

“GirlyGirl19 is certainly not a runner,” said Stacy looking at the next page. HotPairFor69 had opened an email containing a nude picture of a chubby female sitting naked in an armchair with her legs hanging over the arms. Her large pendulous breasts rested on her belly. She was smiling and holding the base of a dildo inserted in her pussy.”

“She’s an ugly fat whore,” said Mike. “She is twenty eight not nineteen and she is not an EMT. She works in a Call Center for Sears. Her name is Cory Wyshak. Her parents were Polacks.”

“But the Russo’s thought she was good enough to arrange a hookup,” said Stacy reading on.

“Yes, because she had a place to meet in Somerville. Cory inherited a three-decker when her parents died in a car wreck. Her dad drove head on into a semi on Route 124. She got a big insurance settlement,” said Mike. “Vera is looking for someone who has a place where they can screw.”

“The Russo’s aren’t willing to let anyone know where they live. That’s not surprising. They have minor children and a position in the community to protect. So did they hook up with this GirlyGirl19 or Cory as you called her?” asked Stacy.

“Yes, they parked their car in the Sonesta Hotel’s garage and took a cab to the twelve hundred block of Lewis Street. They then walked two blocks to 1229 Concord St where they spent four hours humping fat cow Cory. Afterwards they walked to a convenience mart where they called another cab and returned to the Sonesta,” said Mike reading from a handwritten note in the folder.

“A cautious couple, you must have followed them,” said Stacy.

“Actually Mark handled the surveillance. I was otherwise engaged that evening,” said Mike.

“In one of the IM’s they ask Cory to dress up like a school girl,” said Stacy reading quickly through a private chat session.

“Watching the wife have sex with a student is a turn on for Attorney Russo,” said Stacy. “Guy’s a real creep.”

“I think I know what you want but spell it out,” said Stacy.

“You join the adult WEB site that hosts Boston BiCouples. I’ll front you the $19.95 for the three-month membership. You arrange a hookup with them. You meet them here and fuck their brains out, the more perverted and nasty the better. Leave the rest to me,” said Mike.

“You’ll video the three of us,” said Stacy.

“Your second staring role,” said Mike.

“Suppose I say No. These are decent people. They haven’t done anything to you,” said Stacy.

“Decent people who like to have three ways with young girls. Yeah, they’re practically saints.”

“It’s one thing to degrade me and force me to have sex but it’s another to ask me to help you ruin other people’s lives,” said Stacy. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Let me explain your options. Number one is I mail a copy of the Stacy Does Cambridge DVD to friends and family. Number two is I show up at your place and find a key of heroin with your fingerprints on it. You and you’re your New Jersey dyke get to spend twenty-five to life in Bridgewater munching rugs. Number three is Lou and I go to work on that beautiful face with straight razors. By the time we’re done, you will envy fat Cory’s looks. And then there is the grand slam where we exercise all three options,” said Mike. “I’m leaning toward the combo.”

“You bastard,” said Stacy wrapping her hand around Mike’s balls and squeezing them gently.

“So what is it going to be,” asked Mike?

“I’ll do it,” said Stacy. “But I have a favor to ask.”

“Ask.”

“This thing with Ray Luchino, sick people aren’t exactly my thing. Can I take Portia with me for moral support?”

“Sure, why not. Send Ray off to the Pearly Gates with a three way.”


Chapter 28 Hospice Hooker

“Marvin didn’t say anything about there being two hookers,” said the obese black woman who answered the door. Stacy would have guessed her weight at three hundred pounds on a frame well shy of six foot. She looked to be in her early forties. She was wearing a shapeless print dress.

“Hi, I’m Portia. I’m along to help Stacy out. Fucking the dying is my specialty,” said Portia confidently walking past the woman into the condo’s living room. Stacy followed quickly noting the furniture matched and the place was neat and clean. They were on the twenty-second floor overlooking Revere Beach and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. There was a small balcony off to the side of the living room. A double lounger dominated the balcony’s floor space. A small glass top table by the lounger held a can of diet soda, a still burning cigarette, and a tabloid magazine that Stacy had seen at grocery store checkouts. When Stacy had rung the bell at the building entrance on the first floor it had taken a minute for the woman to answer. She imagined the effort it must have taken for someone that large to get up off the lounger, go to the intercom and buzz them in.

“Shit, never seen any Goth hookers before. Guys into that?” said the woman.

“Hell yes they are, I’m Mike’s number one girl. And you are?” said Portia extending her hand.

“Leticia Sampson, I’m taking care of Ray until he croaks,” said the black woman. “Which of you two is going to do him?”

“We both are,” said Stacy.

“Good luck, man is rotted out with cancer. He asked me to jack him off yesterday while he watched porn. Pecker of his is like the rest of him, ain’t good for nothing other than pissing in a bag. I told Marvin sending you over was a waste of time.”

“We’ll do our best,” said Portia. “We’re professionals.”

“So was I, once, this way,” said Leticia leading them toward a closed bedroom door. Inside, the curtains were drawn and it was dark when Portia and Stacy entered behind Leticia. The sound of labored breathing dominated the room. Stacy had heard that same sound when her Grandmother Todd died form Parkinson’s disease.

“You got company, Ray,” said Leticia turning on a light that barely increased the visibility.

There was a clicking sound and a synthesized voice that didn’t sound quite human spoke, “Who is it?

“Couple of ladies Marvin sent over.”

“Waste of money,” said Ray. “I told Marvin to save his dough for an open bar at my wake.”

“It’s comped, Mr. Luchino,” said Stacy.

“Who sent you?”

“Lt. Mike Cabreeze,” said Stacy. “He said he’d be over to see you soon himself.”

“More light, Leticia,” said Ray. “Let’s get a good look at these whores.”

“I’m Stacy and this is my friend Portia,” said Stacy smiling as she looked at the frail figure. Like Mike had said he was completely bald and there was a clear plastic tube running from a metal tank to one nostril. What Mike had not mentioned was how the cancer had ravaged what must have been at one time a tall and powerfully built individual. He looked incredibly small and weak. There was a white plastic cylinder attached to a hole at the base of his throat. Stacia felt she had made the right decision in asking Portia to accompany her. Portia seemed much more relaxed at the prospect of someone in Ray’s condition.

“You’re quite a looker, Stacy, and you’re not bad either, Portia. What do they call someone who looks like you?”

“A Goth,” said Portia.

“Yeah, that’s it. Those metal things hurt when they stick them through,” asked Ray?

“Not really, they use a local anesthetic,” said Portia.

“You got rings in your snatch,” asked Ray?

“Yes,” said Portia.

“Bet that hurt, let me see,” said Ray.

Portia turned her back to Stacy as she lifted her hair up. “Unzip me.” Stacy unhooked the top and pulled down the zipper. Portia stepped out of the dress then tossed it across a nearby chair. Quickly she shed her bra and slipped her panty down and off. Portia stood facing Ray hands on hips, naked except for her heels and stay up hose.

“Come closer, Portia, nothing to be afraid of. Cancer ain’t catching,” said Ray reaching out an arm that seemed to be only bone covered by lose silvery skin.

Portia slipped her forefingers in the rings and pulled her labia apart when she reached the bed.

“Closer,” asked Ray?

Portia lifted one leg placing her heel on edge of the mattress.

“Whores didn’t have rings in their snatch in my day. What do you think, Leticia? You want a set of rings in that fat cunt of yours? I’m buying.” Ray gently flicked the gold rings piercing Portia’s labia.

“No way,” said Leticia. “My coochie’s fine just the way it is.”

“Show Stacy and Portia that fine girlish figure of yours,” said Ray.

“What? You going to fuck all three of us?” asked Leticia.

“Just do what I say or I’ll tell Marvin,” said Ray managing to allow a touch of menace to sound though the voice synthesizer.

“Shit,” said Leticia sounding defiant but she quickly reached down and grabbed the hem of her housedress and pulled it over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She was grossly overweight. Fat covered with stretch marks hung in thick folds from her waist and thighs. Her enormous breasts hung down over her bloated belly.

“What you think, Portia? Are you into fatties? What do they call guys with a thing for fat women? There’s a name for it,” said Ray.

“Chubby chasers,” said Stacy.

“Chubby chasers, that’s it. What are you waiting for, honey. Get undressed.”

Stacy pulled her sweater over her head then unzipped her skirt. She tossed both garments on the same chair with Portia’s dress. Her bra and panty quickly followed.

“Nice, real nice, you’re Mike’s, I can tell,” said Ray.

“Yeah, how can you tell?” asked Stacy stepping to the side of the bed alongside Portia. Ray’s hand was resting against Portia’s sex with the forefinger gently stroking her clit.

“He always had a thing for blue eyed blondes with a touch of class. You a dancer?” said Ray transferring his hand to Stacy’s sex.

“Actually I’m a student. So is Portia.”

“College student?”

“Yes.”

“I went to Salem State a couple of semesters but I dropped out. Which college?”

“Harvard, Portia and I are dorm mates.”

“That’s Mike Cabreeze for you, always trying to join the Wasps. If you can’t become one at least you can fuck one. Portia, show Leticia some loving. God knows she needs it.”

“Come here, Portia sweetie,” said Leticia taking a seat in an overstuffed armchair then reaching her arms out toward Portia. Without hesitating, Portia climbed up in Leticia’s lap and placed her arms around her neck. The two kissed as Leticia’s hand covered Portia’s breast working the huge nipple.

I would love to have a picture of Portia and Leticia decided Stacy.

Portia’s much smaller, white, heavily tattooed body made a sharp contrast with Leticia’s dark form.

“You been with Mike long,” asked Ray pulling Stacy’s arm indicating she was to come closer?

“Little less than a year,” said Stacy taking a seat on the edge of bed.

“Got your ass in a jam, what was it, drugs, stealing, robbery?” asked Ray.

“Shoplifting,” said Stacy pulling back the cover. To the side, she could see Portia and Leticia were making out. Leticia’s fingers were probing Portia’s sex.

“Shoplifting, that’s nothing,” said Ray lightly squeezing Stacy’s nipple.

“It was a second offense. I was on probation. Anyway that was only for starters,” said Stacy leaning forward to kiss Ray. His lips felt ice cold to Stacy’s touch. There was the taste of medicine when her tongue entered his mouth.

“Mike’s got something on everybody. He went to school with my younger brother Marvin. We lived two doors from the Cabreezes over off Western Ave. Mike’s dad, Tony, was a real pisser. Think your friend is enjoying herself?”

When Stacy looked, Portia was standing on the chair’s arms with her sex in Leticia’s face. Leticia’s large hands had a firm grip on Portia’s buttocks. Leticia was making loud murmuring sounds as she performed orally on Portia.

“Portia will do what it takes to get the job done and she usually enjoys herself doing it,” said Stacy continuing to kiss Ray as she pulled the cover down to reveal Ray’s skeleton like body.

“I should have put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger when Dr. Reynolds said I had the Big C,” said Ray.

“Then you would have missed a great blow job,” said Stacy unbuttoning the front of Ray’s pajama bottoms.

Portia’s loud moans and the sucking sound of Leticia’s large lips drew Ray’s attention. “Leticia likes to eat white snatch. Last time, the hospice worker came to give me my shot, Leticia made the woman lie on the couch so she could go down on her. She doesn’t know I know that. Black girls think getting their tongues in a white woman’s twat makes them superior somehow. Turn around, Portia, and let Leticia suck your asshole. Hope you didn’t wipe that good. Leticia’s got a thing for shit licking.”

“You were neighbors of Mike’s,” asked Stacy unable to control her curiosity? A quick glance informed her Portia was still standing on the chair arms but facing away from Leticia. She was bent at the waist and Leticia’s face was buried between her buttocks. There was nothing quiet about Leticia’s approach to anilingus. Portia’s fingers were stroking Leticia’s clit and as Stacy predicted, she was enjoying herself. “What kind of a man was Mike’s father?”

“The worst kind, a real bastard, Tony Cabreeze worked in the GE Plant. He was a big union man; so they made him shop steward. He was a mean fucking drunk. He’d come home full of booze and beat the living shit out of the boys and Elena, their mom. Elena was a good-looking woman too. She was just off the boat when she married Tony so she just took it, didn’t complain.
“Sounds like a real bastard,” said Stacy reaching into Ray’s pajamas for his cock.

“Tony started messing around with Mike’s little sister, Cecila. She’d just turned thirteen and was on her way to being a real looker. Gorgeous set of tits like yours, had the same quarter size nipples that could put a man’s eye out when they got hard,” said Ray taking a weak hold on Stacy’s nipple.

“Thank you,” said Stacy gently taking Ray’s hand to press it firmly against her breast as her hand fondled his limp penis.

“It was a Saturday night in August when things went crazy at the Cabreeze’s. Cecila burst out of the house naked and ran to our house. She was screaming her head off and there was blood running down her leg. My Mom took care of her. Wrapped her up in a blanket and gave her a little wine to calm her down.”

“He molested his own daughter,” asked Stacy slowly stroking Ray’s ice-cold manhood working from the base of his balls to the tip of his cockhead?

“Bastard popped his own daughter’s cherry. Split her open right in front of the family. You could hear Mike and his dad arguing. That turned into one hell of a fight. Elena was screaming for them to stop. Mike was just a kid but he was standing up to Tony. After a while Tony stormed out of the house. The next morning they found him in an alley over behind Jackson’s, a bar on Pearl St where Tony spent time. Someone had been waiting outside for him. Beat his brains out with a baseball bat. Mike was one hell of a baseball player.”

“Mike killed his father,” asked Stacy before leaning down to take Ray’s cock in her mouth?

“Who the fuck knows?” said Ray. “Police couldn’t prove anything not that they tried too hard. Are you enjoying yourself, Leticia?”

“Portia and I are getting along just fine, Mister Ray,” said Leticia taking her face out of Portia’s butt crack to reply. Portia was leaning forward at the waist her head down to her knees all the while making small movements to push her anus against Leticia’s mouth. She was stroking Leticia’s pussy with one hand while the other twisted and kneaded her breast.

“Leticia gives great tongue,” said Portia obviously enjoying the sensation of Leticia’s tongue working between her vagina and her anus.

“What happened to Mike’s family,” asked Stacy taking Ray’s cock out of her mouth just long enough to ask the question?

“Elena remarried one of the Esposito brothers. Mario turned out the exact opposite of Tony. He made sure Mike got an education, sent him to college. He and Elena retired to Fort Lauderdale a few years ago.”

“And Cecilia?” asked Stacy working hard on Ray’s cock. She was encouraged it showed signs of life.

“Not so great, she got a bad reputation as soon as she hit Revere High. Quit school. She married this guy who was dealing drugs. When he went away to Pullman, she divorced him then remarried. Last I heard she was divorced again and was living with this guy in a small town in Oklahoma. You know you’re getting me hard and given that my blood pressure is just a little bit above a dead man’s, that’s quite an accomplishment. How’s your friend at sucking dick?”

“Portia gives fabulous head,” said Stacy swirling her tongue over Ray’s cockhead teasing his piss hole with the tip of her tongue.

“I got a yin that before I go I get to feel someone with metal studs in their tongue polishing my knob.”

“Portia, let’s swap,” said Stacy. “Ray wants to experience your tongue hardware working on his cock.”

“Love to,” said Portia stepping down from the chair arms.

Stacy continued to suck Ray’s penis as Portia kissed him and sucked his nipples. Stacy had discovered there was a tube inserted in Ray’s anus precluding the possibility of a prostate massage.

“I got it,” said Portia taking Ray’s now hard penis from Stacy’s mouth. Stacy transferred her mouth to his testicles. They were both working Ray’s cock and balls when Stacy felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Come here, Stacy. I need a rim job from a real pretty white girl,” said Leticia slowly climbing down to the floor then taking a position on her knees and elbows. Leticia spoke as if her request was more of a challenge and a command.

“Go ahead, Stacy. I want to watch Mike Cabreeze’s WASP girl friend eat Leticia’s dirty asshole,” said Ray. “She’s not too clean so I hope you got a strong stomach.”

And what a fat disgusting ass to eat thought Stacy approaching Leticia’s enormous cellulite dimpled buttocks with some trepidation. However, the mounds of loose fat proved pliable and Stacy had no problem pushing them apart to expose her hairy butthole. Stacy leaned into her butt crack and passed her tongue over the wrinkled hemorrhoid-scarred anus. The smell of fresh shit was overwhelming.

“These girls are hard core, Ray. Stacy’s got her tongue up my butt. I’m going to see if I can squeeze out a little treat for her,” said Leticia enjoying the sensation of Stacy’s tongue forcing its passage past her sphincter.

Nietzsche’s maxim came to Stacy’s mind as she felt a tiny turd protrude from Leticia’s anus. Stacy sucked gently on the soft brown shit until it fell on her tongue. Stacy quickly swallowed it sparing her taste buds for the most part.

“Is that the first time, you’ve eaten a black woman’s shit, College Girl,” asked Leticia?

“Certainly is,” said Stacy.

“Want some more?” asked Leticia.

“Not particularly,” said Stacy working Leticia’s enormous clit with one hand while she licked the black woman’s anus.

“Too late,” said Leticia straining her guts to drop another turd in Stacy’s mouth.

If someone had asked me six months ago if I could handle a three hundred pound black woman shitting in my mouth, I would have asked if they were crazy. Being with Mike has profoundly altered my view of life and what I am capable of thought Stacy as she sucked a larger turd out and quickly swallowed it.

“Stop shitting in Stacy’s mouth, Leticia. You’re stinking up the goddamn room. There’s nothing rottener on this earth than the smell of nigger shit,” said Ray.

Thank God thought Stacy. I was beginning to feel queasy.

“Portia’s getting me there. I can feel those metal studs tickling the end of my dick,” said Ray.

“Let’s sixty nine,” said Leticia rolling over on her back after a few minutes of Stacy’s tongue turning her sphincter into a gooey, sloppy and easily opened hole.

“All right,” said Stacy clambering on top of her bulging stomach now covered in sweat.

Stacy took the small cigar shaped clit in her mouth as Leticia buried her face in Stacy’s cunt. The room quieted down except for the click of Portia’s tongue, Ray’s rasping breath and the loud murmurings of Leticia as she licked and sucked on Stacy’s clit and labia.

“Stick your hand in my coochie and fist me,” directed Leticia.

Stacy found it surprisingly easy to move from three fingers to four and ultimately her entire hand inside the woman as two fat fingers forced their way inside her vagina. Stacy drew her fingers into a fist and forced it to Leticia’s cervix causing her to bellow her pleasure. Stacy fought to keep Leticia’s clit in her mouth and her fist in the woman as she orgasmed.

As Stacy slipped to the carpet coated in Leticia’s sweat, she heard Ray yell, “Swallow that spunk, whore,” indicating he had achieved his last orgasm on this earth.

“I’ll tell Marvin what a great fuck you two are. He may want to try you himself,” said Ray when Portia and Stacy went to leave. He fell asleep before they reached the front door.

It was on the elevator that Portia wondered aloud. “I wonder if there are prostitutes who specialize in final fucks for the dying.”

“We should run an ad in one of the funeral home trade magazines and see if we get any takers,” said Stacy.

Chapter 29 Cyber Sting



“I really appreciate your coming with me to Ray’s last week,” said Stacy staring at the computer screen. Portia was seated nearby studying one of her textbooks.

“In my short lifetime of sexual experiences, it was way up there on the bizarre meter. How many women can positively respond to the question, have you ever sucked off a dying cancer patient who had only a few days to live? His sperm tasted positively medicinal, by the way.”

“While your best friend fist fucked and ate out his three hundred pound health care provider who was into scat,” said Stacy. “I’m beginning to think this cyber search is hopeless. Maybe the Russos have sworn off bi females and taken up a new hobby. Mike may have to develop a new plan of entrapment.”

“I almost freaked out when Ray demanded a cigarette after he blew his load,” said Portia.

“The mind blowing part was when he smoked it through the tracheal hole in his throat,” said Stacy. “I suppose it had already killed him once so it didn’t matter.”

“If I live to fuck ten thousand more men it will probably be the most incredible experience in my life, one to tell my grandchildren about if they’re a bunch of perverts.”

“Finally, I was about to give up,” said Stacy staring at the screen. For the last five nights between nine and midnight, Portia and she had been taking turns monitoring the Boston BiCouples chat room.

“Vera waits until the kids are in bed and then she goes online,” was Portia’s conclusion.

The girls had created several different logons to the New England Swingers WEB site. In one they were a couple in there twenties looking to meet bi-sexual females, in another, a Goth girl looking to meet a Goth couple. They’d used fake logons to master the stilted language and protocols associated with that particular chat room. One thing they learned quickly was that most of the chatters were not couples but males seeking to persuade couples to have sex with them. After hours of watching and engaging in aimless chat, they were on the verge of calling it quits. However, HotPairFor69 has just signed on for the first time.

“Good, I hope she’s horny,” said Portia taking a seat beside Stacy. “Time for her to meet the vixen.”

Moments later, Vickie Vixen joined the chat room. Vickie Vixen’s profile identified her as a twenty one year old college student living in Cambridge who enjoyed erotic encounters with attractive couples. Her preferences included oral, vaginal, and anal sex, mild BDSM, corsets, and role-play. Partners had to be non-smoking, height and weight proportionate couples who were very discreet. Vickie Vixen admitted to having very close male and female friends who were not aware of her taste for couple’s sex.

“Bingo,” said Portia when the IM software announced HotPairFor69 wanted to have a private conversation. Stacy waited for several seconds so as not to appear too eager then mouse clicked the OK button and the two-way conversation box appeared on the screen.



HotPairFor69: Hello, how are you this evening?


Vickie Vixen: Fine, and you?


HotPairFor69: Excellent, I like your profile. I’m the female member of the duo.


Vickie Vixen: I also find your profile interesting. I hope you are a real couple, lots of phonies here. If you’re a male looking to get laid, let’s end this now.


HotPairFor69: We’re a real couple looking to meet attractive bi females for out of the ordinary sex. We’re college-educated professionals. My husband’s straight. I’m bi. We enjoy meeting attractive young femme’s for erotic encounters. But we must be very discreet.


Vickie Vixen: I require discretion also. Stats?


HotPairFor69: Me, 32yo, 5’7”, 140, brown/brown. Him, 34yo, 5’8”, 165, brown/brown, 9” cut. We frequent the gym 5x week and we’re both runners.


Vickie Vixen: Nice but is that 9 English inches?


HotPairFor69: Trust me, he’s a tripod. And your stats?


Vickie Vixen: 21yo, 5’10”, 120, blonde/blue


HotPairFor69: You’re slender. I like that. I am a 32C. Bra size?


Vickie Vixen: 34D


HotPairFor69: Implants?


Vickie Vixen: No, genes, Mom’s a 36D. Aunt’s a 38DD.


HotPairFor69: What kinds of things are you into?


Vickie Vixen: Hot three way sex with couples, anything safe. I like the wife to take the lead and tell me how to please them.


HotPairFor69: Anal, giving, taking, or no way Jose.


Vickie Vixen: I like to rim and be rimmed. Your husband can fuck me in the ass once he lubes my hole.


HotPairFor69: You sound like our kind of femme. How about BDSM?


Vickie Vixen: Pain’s okay but no marks. I have a very possessive and controlling girl friend.


HotPairFor69: Understood. How about role-play?


Vickie Vixen: Love to act. But it’s only hot if its done right.


HotPairFor69: Student and teacher, ever done that one?


Vickie Vixen: No, but it sounds interesting. Played a candy stripper caught blowing the sick husband in his hospital bed by his nasty bitch wife. Couple had a hospital room in their house. I got my head into it. I could do the student and teacher thing.


HotPairFor69: Terrific, but I have a question that can be a showstopper. We have no place to play. Can we come to your place?


Vickie Vixen: Sorry no, I live in the dorm.


HotPairFor69: I knew you sounded to good to be true. Well good luck.


Vickie Vixen: Wait, I can get my friend’s place anytime. She’s out of the country. I’m sort of apartment sitting for her. She has a nice place.

HotPairFor69: When does she get back?


Vickie Vixen: Not till after Thanksgiving. She’s in Africa working for an NGO.


HotPairFor69: What’s her place like?


Vickie Vixen: Furnished apartment near my campus. It’s in a large complex right off Memorial.


HotPairFor69: Campus?


Vickie Vixen: Harvard, pre-law.


HotPairFor69: I’m impressed.


Vickie Vixen: Thank you but you shouldn’t be. Hardest thing about Harvard is getting in. I should have chosen Stanford.


HotPairFor69: Do you have a pic to exchange?


Vickie Vixen: Yes, give me a second.


Portia had taken a digital picture of Stacy naked standing with one foot on the seat of a straight chair. A large dildo was stuck to the chair seat and poised to enter her vagina. Portia had cropped the picture at Stacy’s shoulders. Stacy embedded the picture in an email and sent it. Her own mailbox icon noted the presence of a message that turned out to contain the same picture the Russos had sent to GirlyGirl19.


Vickie Vixen: You two have beautiful bodies. My pussy’s wet.


HotPairFor69: Mine too. You’re gorgeous. My husband has a hard on just looking at it. I can picture my face between your thighs. Can I call you? Chat and IM are so impersonal.


Vickie Vixen: 978 555-1515


The disposable cell phone Portia bought rang immediately. The call was short and to the point. A meeting several days hence was agreed upon.

“We’ve got a ton of work to get ready,” said Portia. “You need a school girl costume and we need to find a few items that will support your cover story that the place belongs to a girl friend you’re involved with. We can use pictures of my sister.”

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