Stone and the Gangster's Girls

"That was incredible," Stella sighed, a stream of smoke jetting from her nostrils. "I don't know where you get the ideas from, Amy." She shook her head and dragged heavily at her cigarette. "I'm amazed that a nineteen-year-old can be so damned perverted. You really do love it, don't you?"

Amy, with smears of my jizm glistening on her cheek and chin from where she'd sucked the spunk out of Stella, giving the blonde an intense, juddering climax into the bargain, smirked. "I'm taking a shower," she replied. "Thanks for coming over," the girl said after leaning down to kiss Stella's mouth. "Stay in the flat as long as you like." Then she looked over at me. "Joining me in the shower, Stone?"

What else could I do except follow Amy's bruised rump from the room? And as I went Stella tipped me a saucy wink and told me she hoped we'd all meet again.

Maybe things would turn out all right for me after all, I hoped in a moment of optimism.

If I'd known then that I'd been followed to the flat then I might not have been so buoyant in the shower with Amy that early afternoon.

Five -- Confrontation in Kenya

It all unravelled in paradise.

The flight out for me was tense. Dave Devine had decided to take Tommo ahead with him in a private jet laid on by his Kenyan business partner, which left me to accompany Julie Devine and Amy on a commercial flight a day later.

The decision to take Tommo instead of me was a mystery, but that's what the main fellah wanted, so it happened.

I hadn't been in the company of both Amy and her mother at the same time since I'd started fucking them both, and to say I found it a little tense would be an understatement. Both women were capable of pulling some stroke on board the plane -- Julie more than Amy since she was the one who enjoyed risky sex -- but I hoped both of them would behave.

When we landed in Mombasa, Dave was there to greet us, a nice touch considering he usually didn't have much time for the two women in his life.

"Jambo!" the big man called, grinning while his wife looked at him with a bemused smile of her own. "Come on, come on," Dave insisted, leading our group towards a fleet of Mercedes. "You girls wanna see the fuckin' pool," he jabbered like an over-excited tourist. "And the beach is right outside the 'ouse. I'm tellin' ya, smack bang on the fuckin' doorstep. Blue," he enthused, "so pale it's almost fuckin' green!"

Dave had never picked up the dropped aitches of his upbringing, and whereas my accent had rounded and softened from mixing with men from all parts of the UK, Dave still came over as the lovable chirpy cockney, all 'gor blimey' and larger than life.

"Sounds great," Amy chirruped, probably as surprised as her mother by Dave's presence and enthusiasm.

"You're gonna love it, princess," Dave replied.

Amy blinked and glanced in my direction. Thankfully we were in the process of climbing into the cars at that moment so Dave missed Amy's look. He was a sharp operator and missed very little; it was just that sort of thing that could spark off suspicion in Dave's mind.

But then I found I had something bigger to worry about when Dave called for me to travel in the same car as himself. Not that this would be unusual in itself, it was just the way he said it. I couldn't put a finger on why I felt a cold finger of fear tickle my spine -- maybe some soldier's instinct for danger -- but I was more than a little uncomfortable about the ride from Mombasa to Watamu.

"You all right, Stone?" Dave asked as the motorcade got underway.

I nodded, trying to give the impression I was totally relaxed as I smiled at the boss. "Never better, Dave."

Dave fixed me with a look from across the wide expanse between his seat and mine in the back of the car. "You sure?" he asked. "You come over as a bit distracted, mate. Something on your mind?"

I considered spilling the whole thing to him right there and then, just telling him outright what I'd been up to, how I'd overstepped the mark by a mile.

How bad could it be? What was the worst that could happen? And then I reminded myself that Dave Devine could be very nasty. It wasn't death itself I feared, I'd reconciled myself to a meeting with the grim reaper at some stage, it was just what Dave would do to me beforehand. How ... uncomfortable it would get.

"I've got a few things going on, Dave," I answered, somewhat disingenuous.

Dave stared at me for a few disconcerting seconds longer. "Well, if you need to talk about it, mate ..." And as guilt and self-loathing swept over me, Dave Devine reached over and patted me on the knee.

"Thanks, Dave," I said with a weak smile. "I appreciate it."

"You think the girls are gonna enjoy their 'oliday?" Dave asked. "I do worry about 'em sometimes," he added.

"I expect so, Dave," I replied. Keeping my face neutral I shrugged. "Watamu's a nice place. Great beach."

"Ah, yeah," Dave nodded himself. "You've been here before, eh. Tommo mentioned that the army use the area for R&R."

"Third Battalion back in the 80s," I confirmed. "A week of windsurfing, snorkelling, sunbathing and boozing it up after training in the heat at Archer's Post -- or Archer's Roast as we called it."

"Fuckin' hot was it? Hard work?"

"Hot enough," I replied. "And hard work, yes."

"Shag any birds down here?" Dave asked.

I shook my head. "Not a chance, Dave. The lectures on HIV and AIDS were pretty clear about the chances of picking up something nasty."

"You should get yourself a woman, Stone," Dave said then, and I swear I saw a flicker of something on his face. Just the briefest sinister shift in his features, but at that moment I was sure that Dave knew something. "In fact," he added, "we need a little chat later. Me an' you."

"What about, Dave?" I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my reply.

"Later, Stone," the man responded, and then, in a change of subject Dave sat back in his seat, lit a cigarette and began to talk about West Ham while my stomach churned like washing machine on a high spin.

After almost an hour of dodging potholes in the road and overtaking slower vehicles, all of which were in need of some kind of attention, we arrived at our destination. The complex, surrounded by a high wall and looked over by a web of CCTV, sat almost on the beach itself. Dave hadn't exaggerated when he'd described the turquoise water beyond the white sand.

Two hours later, after Dave and Tommo had left in one of the cars, and I was making a tour of the grounds after convincing myself -- almost -- that Dave's chat wouldn't involve Julie and Amy. If he knew for sure what was going on between me and his wife and daughter, then I wouldn't be walking around now, would I? Surely I'd read more into the exchange between us in the car. Dave probably only wanted to talk about the old days. I'd managed to calm down a little by the time I rounded a corner near the swimming pool and saw two of the lads idling close to the spot where Julie had stretched out on a sun-lounger.

I couldn't blame them for lurking when they should have been getting on with their jobs. Julie lay there, on her back, pneumatic boobs bare as she soaked up the sun. Her body glistened with suntan oil while she feigned ignorance at the boys' presence and their ogling stares, her eyes hidden behind a pair of vast sunglasses.

The woman might as well have been nude for all the modesty the bikini bottom she wore afforded her. The scrap of fluorescent cloth that covered her pubis was the size of a postage stamp, with dental floss strips at the sides resting high on her hips, with a third string wedged in the crease of her buttocks.

"Take a picture, Ralph," I said. "It lasts longer."

Taking the comment in the way I'd intended, as a mild rebuke, Ralph and his team mate slunk away, their expressions sheepish.

"Hello, Stone," Julie purred at my approach. "You spoilt their fun," she admonished quietly, pouting after speaking. "And mine too. I was just getting all juicy thinking about the pair of them wanking over me." Julie chuckled. "It must be the heat, Stone, I'm really horny."

Glancing around to make sure nobody was within earshot I replied in a low voice, "You're always horny, Julie."

"True," she responded, with a wry grin. "But I'm feeling particularly randy today." Ice tinkled when she held up the inevitable tumbler. "Whisky makes me frisky and brandy makes me randy," she said. Julie's breasts drew my eyes as she levered herself upright. "I wonder, Stone," she continued in a voice slurred by booze and an excess of sun, "if you and your two boys wouldn't like to gangbang me? We could all go into the house where it's nice and cool and just fuck. Wouldn't that be fun, Stone?" The woman slurped at her drink. She pulled a face when she discovered the glass drained, with nothing but ice left in the bottom. "I think I'd like that, sucking cock while one of you fucks me from behind. I loved it when those boys stared at me. I could feel their hunger. They wanted me, Stone. They wanted to fuck me right here by the pool. I could smell it."

"I can't see that going down too well with Dave, Julie."

The woman scoffed. "As if he'd fucking notice." She lifted her sunglasses from her eyes and wedged the frame into her short hair like an Alice band. "But I could still do with a fucking, Stone. How about you join me in my room? I could ride you while you suck my tits."

A flash of memory of Stella and her heavy breasts riding me as I sat on the old chair in flat 17.

"I can't Julie. I've got to work. Dave and Tommo will be back soon enough, and then we've got a few things to go over."

As I said it I realised that Tommo seemed to be getting on very well with Dave all of a sudden. And, come to think about it, Tommo had been behaving a bit odd of late. A sneaking suspicion slithered in a dark place in my head -- Was Tommo looking for my job? Did he know about me and Julie? Did he know what had been going on with me and Amy? Had he come back to the gym for some reason the other week and seen us in the shower? And the burning question: If he knew something, had he told Dave?

No. No way. My frayed nerves were feeding the paranoia; I saw danger everywhere. Not Tommo. I wouldn't give any credence to that poisonous thought.

Julie's contemptuous laugh brought me back to the present. "Well, Stone, I'll let you off this time. But you better give me some cock soon. I'm fucking choking for a shag."

Leaving Julie and her less than eloquent turn of phrase, I continued my tour, totally ignorant to the fact that, in my absence, she would find her own fun. I wouldn't know of that afternoon's events until later that evening. Not until my interview with Dave.

I found Amy on the beach on her own. She turned to face me as I approached where she sat on the sand.

"Hello, Stone," she greeted with a smile. "Sit down. Enjoy the view. My mother's pissed already, isn't she? Showing her tits off to anyone who'll look," she added as we sat side by side facing the aquamarine beauty in front of us. "She's such a slut too. I bet she'd fuck every bloke on your team ... twice."

That surprised me. I thought Julie's sexual excesses were a secret, but more fool me for not realising that Amy was clever enough to have her mother well and truly tagged. What concerned me, as usual, was how much did Amy know?

Did she have any idea I'd been fucking her mother for months?

"You're a little wild too, Amy," I suggested gently as the surf foamed a few feet from us.

"Well, touché, Stone." I was relieved to see the girl grin; it would have been easy for her to take offence at my comment. "But, believe it or not, I don't shag around indiscriminately. I'm playing with you at the moment, Stone. There isn't anybody else."

"What about a certain blonde named Stella," I reminded her.

Amy turned her head to face me. "You were there with me, Stone. And as I recall you fucked her too. Besides, don't tell me you didn't have a good time." The girl leaned and raised her backside from the sand. "That's why I'm wearing shorts down here instead of a bikini next to pool. My arse is still black and blue from you two spanking it so hard." She smiled at me again. "It was a fucking chore to sit still on the plane. Even as comfortable as first class was, my arse felt bruised."

"It was ... different," I admitted.

"Did you like Stella?" Amy nudged me with an elbow. "I'm guessing you did since you dumped such a huge load inside her."

"She's a sexy lady," I responded.

Amy laughed and blurted, "Oh yes, she sure is sexy." Then, eyeing me with her sly smirk, Amy added, "So you wouldn't mind a repeat performance, Stone? Only next time me and Stella could think up something really dirty for you."

All concerns about Dave Devine and Tommo and conspiracies were blown away, and my cock thickened at the pictures my imagination conjured up. "That might be good," I croaked, my throat suddenly dry.

"Leave it with me, Daddy," the girl murmured. And right there on the beach, in full view of the house behind, our lips met in a risky kiss.

"I'd better go," I said quickly when our lips parted. "If anyone saw ..."

When I scrambled to my feet Amy sighed. "Why does it have to be so fucking complicated? My bloody father ..."

I left the girl there, wiping tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand as she wept in frustration.

It was that evening that Tommo came for me.

"Stone?" Tommo began. "Dave wants to see you."

I knew straight away that this was it. Tommo, my friend and colleague couldn't meet my eye. His whole demeanour screamed at me that he felt supremely uncomfortable about something. I looked at his face, wondering if his expression was one of treachery.

My reply was curt. "What does he want, Tommo?"

He didn't look at me, just shrugged and studied his boots. "I dunno, Stone. Just come, eh."

"Something's up, Tommo," I said quietly. "Just tell me straight."

I was pissed off now. Why couldn't the bastard just have the guts to be straight with me? OK, I was probably dead meat, and as much as it pained me I could accept it. I'm a big boy, I knew I was doing wrong when I slept with Julie, and I went on and did it anyway. I couldn't even use the woman's seduction as an excuse since I'd shagged her dozens of times. I'd known Dave was capable of murder, quite literally, so I had nobody to blame but myself now that it seemed my demise at his hands was hours if not minutes away. I steeled my resolve, as ashamed as I was by my deception -- Fuck it, I would meet my fate head on.

"Just come and see the bloke, Stone," Tommo said, and I swear he was more upset than I was by the whole sordid mess.

I followed Tommo's broad back out of my room. When he led me out into the courtyard I heard the night sounds of Kenya all around me. There was the hiss of the ocean and the chirruping song of cicadas or crickets or whatever the hell they were, and I wondered if I'd ever hear those sounds again after that night. Suddenly, too late, much too late I realised what I really wanted.

And then I climbed into the car after Tommo and we drove out of the complex.

Dave Devine greeted me with a smile. "Stone!" he almost yelled when I stepped into what appeared to be a local shebeen, a dilapidated hut with old newspapers as wallpaper a half-an-hour's drive from our beachside fortress. "Glad you could come," he said, making it appear as if I had a choice. "Sit down. Have a drink. You want a Tusker? We, my old mate, have some serious matters to discuss."

I looked around at the ramshackle plank that passed for a bar, took in the presence of Dave, Tommo, an old, wizened Kenyan behind his plank of wood -- obviously mein host for the evening -- a couple of Ethiopian prostitutes who looked us over with some interest, and three dangerous looking local lads who might or might not be concealing fucking huge machetes about their person.

All in all the place and clientele, less the women, scared me shitless.

"Couldn't we have done this back at the ranch?" I enquired in a tone of light-heartedness I definitely didn't feel as the ancient barman placed a bottle of Tusker beer in front of me.

Dave shrugged, and then looked at Tommo and winked. When I glanced at Tommo he looked pretty sick and I wondered if his pig sick expression was guilt, the treacherous wanker.

"No," Dave said abruptly. "We couldn't do this at the fucking house." His tone and scowl told me I was definitely in the shit. Then, he smiled, the affable cockney again. "You," he said with a wry grin and a wagging forefinger, "have been a very naughty boy, Stone." I felt like a schoolboy who'd been caught in some misdemeanour, but then I remembered that this was Dave Devine in front of me and that shit-eating grin was probably the precursor to some violent eruption.

Looking around again I weighed up my options, cursing the fact that I'd let my ego rule my common sense. Why hadn't I just smacked Tommo in the face with a chair back at the house and taken my chances on the run? Why did I convince myself to front it out? Between me and the door were the three evil-looking black guys, I'd be hacked down and a multiple amputee before I'd gone four or five steps. I did contemplate just launching myself at Dave -- maybe I could get a couple of decent hits in before a panga split my spine or my skull?

"My wife," Dave sighed with a sorry expression. "You know Julie's a bit of a slag, don't you Stone? She likes a bit of the old trouser snake does Julie." The man gave an off-hand shrug and lit a cigarette, adding his contribution to the foul fugue hanging in a low cloud from the ceiling. "I've known for years that she's been getting cock on the side." He shrugged again and cast a quick look at Tommo, my erstwhile comrade-in-arms. Dave's gaze settled on me again. "I must admit I was surprised you fell for it, Stone. What did she do to lure you in?"

So there it was, all out in the open, Dave knew about me and Julie, which also meant he undoubtedly knew about Amy. Despite the fact that my demise was imminent, I found my overriding emotion was shame. I couldn't meet his eyes I felt so ashamed at what I'd done. But what was this all for? Why tell me something I already knew? I'd sussed Julie out for a slapper for myself; I'd blanked out the possibility that I was very likely just the last in a string of men that stretched back years, probably a couple of decades since Dave hadn't been near her since she fell with Amy.

Still avoiding the man's eyes, I murmured, "I'm sorry, Dave. What can I say?"

"Nothing to say really, is there, Stone? I know what she can be like. Julie's a good-looking woman ... sexy as fuck. What bloke wouldn't fancy her?" He snorted a laugh and again sent a quick look in Tommo's direction. "I'll bet she came on to you all heavy. Showed you the goods and you went for it. Pissed up too, was she?" Dave gave a shake of his head. "I blame myself for her drinking," he said, gesturing with his hands wide. "Poor cow, I coulda ... shoulda treated her better. But I was too busy with the business to bother much with Julie. Still ... I do feel bad about the way she's turned out."

"Why are you telling me this, Dave?" I asked. "What purpose does it serve? You got me; it's a fair cop as you'd say. I don't understand why you brought me here. To this ..."

"... Shithole?" Dave finished for me.

I nodded and swigged the beer. "I'll admit it, Dave. Hands up, I'm in the wrong. Just do whatever it is you're going to do to me." I cast a look at the three local blokes sitting all moody and sinister at the bar. "For fuck's sake, stop fucking about."

Ignoring my petulant outburst, Dave carried on.

"I only married her for appearances," he said. "It might seem a bit strange to you, but in my world it was seen as a plus, being a family man, like. Gave the impression of stability. Sure, you need the creds and the reputation, but a wife and a kid or two made the old boys, back in the days when we were both starting out, Stone, think I wasn't just some local nutter who'd barge in an' disturb the old status quo. So I married Julie and out popped Amy, which gave the old guard the impression I was just like them. Fucking muppets they were. I used the time Julie bought me to set myself up and then I moved. I fucked the Griffin brothers up and never looked back since.