Vice Cop Ch. 13

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The men thought she was a tease but enjoyed her sexy "shyness". She hesitated in taking off her thong, allowing the men to fantasize. Even Hudson fell under the hypnotic spell. Maybe it was the music, which in all fairness was beautiful to listen to, maybe it was her, the mix of naughtiness and innocence. She must have been no older than eighteen! Perhaps she had just turned eighteen the day before. She was like a movie star who had landed the role of a stripper and was "in character". She had grace and style, which Hudson marveled at. How is she a stripper? This little beauty? Her eyes were emerald-green. She continued to dance and move about until finally, as the music swelled and reached a climax, she took off her thong and her nude body was bathed in the soft glow of the lights. She was on her knees, covering her breasts with her hand but exposing her pussy. She was panting and looked veryfrightened. Then the lights dimmed and she disappeared behind the curtains, walking backwards like a crab.....................

Hudson had never felt such an urgent sexual need before. He had to have her. The next stripper was already on the stage, a blonde with obvious fake breasts, but he had no interest in watching any other strippers. He maintained a cool composure but he was burning hot with sexual desire. He looked at the man next to him finishing his drink.

"You say that they have a special deal if it's your birthday?" Hudson said to him.

"Yeah, that's right," he replied, "why? Is it your birthday today?"

"Yeah," Hudson lied, "where do I go to get this special deal? Who do I talk to?"

"The manager and owner of this joint, Floyd Burch. They call him "Flamingo Floyd". He's been in this business since the early 60's. He -"

"I don't care about his life's story. Where can I meet him?"

"His office is right down that hall. You have to tell the security there that you are interested in the "birthday special". Got it?"

Hudson got up and walked away. The man found it amusing since he knew exactly why Hudson was eager for the transaction. Roxella Peters was very popular as a girl whose sexual favors men enjoyed for a good price. In the Muzak, The Pretender's "Don't Get Me Wrong" played, with the female vocalist singing something that spoke of excitement. Hudson walked down the dimly lit hall, which, sure enough, was guarded by two men in black who served as security. They were burly and tall men and their eyes missed nothing. Hudson was equally tall and burly but the men had a hard look that often Hudson lacked.

"Excuse me," he said, "I'd like to talk to the manager, Mr. Floyd Burch."

"About?" said one of the men.

"The birthday special."

"Alright, he's in there right now."

Hudson thanked them and entered the office. It was a small office, all woods, with a desk,phone, and the floor was covered in a dark rug. There, behind his desk, was Flamingo Floyd. He was wearing a pink button-down shirt, open to reveal his hairy chest, he had a gold wrist watch, blonde-brownish hair, a mustache and was smoking a cigar. He looked up at Hudson.

"You're here for the birthday special?" he said immediately.

"That's right."

"Which of the girls interest you?"

"Roxella Peters. She just performed a striptease."

"Ms. Peters is not available right now. I think her time's up and -"

At that moment, Roxella walked into the office. She was in a purple robe, her red hair looseand hanging down her shoulders and back. She was wearing high heels. She looked delicious. She stared at Hudson with a hungry look.

"I'm not ready to leave yet, Floyd," she said to him, "I'm not tired. Besides, I could use the money."

Floyd looked at her as if he disapproved of her sudden interest in Hudson. He was quiet and pensive and then looked at Hudson. It was like an old dance and he knew that there wasno way of turning down money. Hudson paid in advance, and he walked into a backroom with Roxella Peters...........

EIGHT

Roxella wasted no time, which surprised Hudson. He had been anxious but not cock-ready. She removed her purple robe and she was fully naked underneath. There was nothing but white pearl necklace on her and high heels. Hudson had the strange feeling he was in an adult film or rather had stumbled into one as the male star, ready for the sex scene with the actress. She had an actress vibe about her. Her hair was very beautiful, long, well-groomed, a red that was not deep like the color of blood, but more like a soft, almost orange type of strawberry. She was white, her body fit but petite. She knew how to carry herself in a way that made her look taller, in addition to the height the heels gave her.

But Hudson was taller than her and she looked like a little girl caught in an adult situation.

"Roxella Peters?" Hudson said to her, "are you over 18?"

Roxella laughed. It was a musical laugh, like diamonds or champagne or both, a carefree and very sexy laugh. It created the aura of a mature woman about her.

"I'm asked that question so many times and it's always funny," she replied, "yes. I'm really

twenty five. I appear younger which makes me a hot item here in the strip club. Sit down on that chair, make yourself comfortable."

Hudson was speechless. He was feeling strangely small, and not as the powerful man he wanted to be, especially in the situation. He was to pay for her sexual service, and he had paid a good price. He could do with her what he pleased. But she was so beautiful and so fragile looking and yet wielded a strange power over him. He sat down on a small chair which was in the middle of the backroom. There was little furniture and the floor

was parquet without any carpeting. Chairs were laid out, a leather couch and the room had no windows, no way for natural sunlight to come through. Only electric lights. A poster of the regular strippers from the club, grouped together like pin-up girls, was hung on the walls. Statues of nude women were at the corners of the room.

"What do you want me to do?" she said to him, "do you want me to be oral on you?"

"I....uh"

"Don't be shy. You look like a tough guy. Do you want me to -"

"Yeah."

It had been a long time.

She was on her knees in an instant. She raised her round, heart-shaped ass from the floor and began to stroke his cock. It was growing in her hand as she caressed it gently at first.

She closed her eyes, fully attentive to his pleasure, her hands never leaving his shaft.

Hudson, sitting tight on the chair, began to feel waves of pleasure filling him like never

before. He had not been sexual with a woman in what seemed like a long time.

As she began to lick and lave his cock, which felt not only good but extremely naughty, especially when he shot glances at her. She looked playfully wicked, like she enjoyed doing this a lot and had all the experience of a veteran whore. She continued to take his cock into her mouth, making Hudson moan and grind his hips. He tossed his head back as he felt his

orgasm coming. He tried not to release, wanting to pleasure her in return and to feel

even more physical pleasure with her.

She was able to sense this.

"You want to fuck me?" she asked, almost innocently," there's a couch right there."

"No. Right here on this chair. Come on."

Hudson grabbed her by the waist and sat her down on his cock, which was still hard. She was still able to tease him and grind her buttocks against him, in a sort of lap dance.

She then sat on his cock, penetrating her pussy and making her moan and cry out. Hudson

felt he would not be able to control himself. She felt so good. He felt disconnected from

everything, from everything in the room or in the world. He was not in Miami, he was in a

realm of senses and he could think of nothing but her. He closed his eyes and she began

to ride his cock harder, knowing he wanted the immediate relief. She was riding him in

reverse, with her back to him.

He reached around and held her breasts firmly, squeezing them. She writhed and moaned as she bounced on his cock, each time with fuller penetration. She was in ecstasy, as if she had controlled the whole thing, as if she had always known him. This was not a first time sexual encounter between strangers. It was as if they had

been lovers before. It was as if she knew he was coming, that he would engage in sex with her.

Hudson suddenly remembered what great sex was like. This type of wild, uninhibited sex

was something he knew would not have enjoyed with the submissive and gentle Cherry, his China doll who had died, and it was as if Candy Spears had come back from the dead and inhabited the body of this red-headed beauty. He remembered that spirited girl in The Hamptons who had lured him into a threesome. Roxella Peters beat them all. She was joyous in her lovemaking, smiling, laughing, moaning, a living breathing object of

sexual desire. She wanted more, just as he wanted more, the both of them drunk on the passion that blossomed between them.

She couldn't have been like this with every john, thought Hudson, it was all for him.

"Turn around," Hudson ordered in a rough voice, suddenly confident and more relaxed.

Roxella complied and turned around. He wanted to see her face. They locked eyes. She had

exotic green eyes and a "love" dot by her cheek, a small little sexy mole. Her nose was

pretty and her chin. She had a sexy neck. Since she was on top, riding him while on the

chair, he was free to move his hands all over her. He grasped her neck and kissed it with

powerful hunger, his wet, hot mouth gliding downward, his hands now cupping her breasts.

He leaned over her to lave her nipples. He took her breasts wholly into his mouth.

She threw her head back and cried out in pleasure, uttering in what sounded like Spanish.

Spanish, how odd. Was she Spanish? He forgot he did not know a thing about her. All

he knew was that she was providing him with intense sexual pleasure. In and out his

cock went, making her bones nearly jump from her body. She cried out, joining his cries.

Their orgasm erupted simultaneously. It was an especially beautiful way to orgasm.

Their last position was in a sort of embrace as she wrapped her legs around him and

he devoured her with kisses, with her bent back, her head dangling over the floor as

he kissed down her neck and to her navel.

Hudson wished the moment didn't have to end.

* * * *

As soon as it was over and she had her money, she had a different sort of look. Her hair

back in place, her body composed, she looked as if nothing had happened between them.

This surprised Hudson. He was also beginning to realize that his emotional need had been

bigger. He had only been a client of hers, one in what must have been a long list of Miami

gentlemen. She also now looked sad. Hudson couldn't quite understand why she would

now possess a look of quiet and tragic sadness when she had just enjoyed a happy moment.

She put her robe back on and smoothed her hair with her hands, looking into a mirror on

the wall.

"What's your name, babe?" she asked him.

"Hudson Banach."

"You're not from around here are you?"

"No," Hudson replied, "I'm from New York City. I'm visiting an uncle in Miami. I was bored and -

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a cop."

"It's nice to know that I served a civil servant," she said jokingly, "you deserve some fun now and then. You do a lot for people just by keeping the city safe."

"Thank you. I do my best."

Again, that sad, far-off look. She sat down on the couch next to a leafy plant and sighed.

"Roxella," Hudson said, "are you ok?"

"No," she said, "I don't want to do this anymore. I mean what we shared was lovely and I felt very nice. I wanted to ...to make love...not sex. I realize I don't know you but I'm sick of this kind of life."

"Are you being forced into this? Is it true your the manager's girl?"

"He's not forcing me. I was born in Miami to a Puerto Rican mother and a white father. I

lost them in a car accident when I was only fifteen. I never graduated from high school

and ran away from my foster parents' home. I've been a prostitute and a stripper. Floyd

has money and has kept me. We live in a nice home by the beach and he buys me gifts

and cares for me. But he thought it would be better to be a star stripper for business.

I went along with the idea but now I don't feel very loved. He's too cold. He's all about

the money."

Hudson was brimming with masculine pride. A poor victim, a caged bird. He could be the one

to set her free. He could rescue her. The cop in him wanted to make sure she was not doing

this kind of sex work. And perhaps she'd respond. He embraced her and she cried on his

shoulder.

"Roxella," he said to her, "let me take you away from here. Be my woman. Let's go to New York City. You don't have to work if you don't want to or I can help you find a decent job. I don't want you to wither in Miami like a dying flower."

She looked at him with sadness but with a degree of hope. She smiled faintly. Thank goodness they were all alone. Floyd, in the office on the other side, probably thought they were still going at it. She touched Hudson's arm.

"I don't know. Floyd would be so crazed with jealousy and so angry. He'd come after me."

"He can't harm you. I'm a cop. If he's making you do something you don't want to do like prostitution, I can arrest him for prostituting you."

"Well technically you'd have to arrest me too wouldn't you? I've done more than just stripping. I've -"

"Don't worry. No one has to know that you were a stripper. Does anyone know you in New York?"

"No. No one."

"Then come on. What's keeping you? I want to love you, Roxella."

He held her and she did not resist this time. They kissed. Afterward, she smiled at him. She coughed and hugged her shoulders and then she went into another room.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get my Baby-Cakes".

"Baby?"

"My pet cockatoo."

"I have my things in Floyd's house. I'd have to tell him I want to visit a relative in Palm Beach. Where could I meet you?"

"I'll meet you at the marina near my Uncle Vitto's home. Tomorrow morning? 8 am?"

"Yes."

"Don't be scared. I'll take you where you'll be safe. Floyd won't ever know where you are or what happened to you."

"He probably wouldn't care. He'd just find some other poor girl and do the same with her."

"I'm so glad you're coming with me, Roxella. I think we both need each other. I'm going to be so good to you."

NINE

Manhattan, New York City,

When Lexa headed for the Plaza Hotel with her mother to talk to a man about entering the "Star Search" singing competition, Mason Holmes went back to the precinct. He had been working a special case, for some time, without Lexa's knowledge. He figured it would upset and vex her enormously if she knew. The case was one that touched a very personal chord. It was about the Mafia, specifically the Dino family. The Dinos were a family that had moved from Naples, Italy, to New York City, conducted a successful drug cartel and illegal weapon trade, and were notoriously ruthless. When Mason caught some of their capos, they retaliated through the murder of his first wife, Katie. He knew it was Luigi Dino's son, Gianni, who had carried out the assasination.

Since the imprisonment of their capo, Don Luigi, Gianni had taken over as capo. For various unusual reasons, Gianni had never been caught. He had at least three other residences in Florida, Nevada and Chicago. He was never in one place long enough to be caught. He posed as a businessman and quite artfully, so that his true identity as the head of a Mafia syndicate was never really exposed. Ever since Gianni had his wife killed, Mason Holmes had vowed to bring Gianni to justice, as he had his father.

It was very personal, and moreover, it was revenge for Katie's murder, but Mason was determined to carry out this just vengeance. He was out there, rich and prosperous, perhaps bribing cops and always escaping justice. Mason Holmes was in his office, looking over some papers, when a man he had never seen before stepped into the room. He was an average-built white man, but what grabbed Mason's attention was his age. The man had some white hair, and wrinkled skin and he was clearly a cop from the way he could stand erect with perfect posture and the way he could walk straight. He had an Irish face, with green eyes and a small nose and round cheeks.

"Mr. Holmes, I'm Emeric O'Neil, Lexa's father," he said.

Holmes was astonished and almost dropped his paper. Instead he got up and shook his hand.

"Mr. O'Neil, such a pleasure," he said, "I had no idea you were in town."

"My Lexa probably hasn't breathed a word about me," he said, "I've pulled myself out of retirement and I'm working as a detective."

"You are? With Homicide? In what precinct?"

"This one. I've just been trying to lay low. I don't want for Lexa to worry about me. You see, I'm interested in one thing and one thing only. To finish what I started back when I was a cop. I was the one who arrested Don Luigi Dino."

"You?"

"That's right. He was the Dino family's leader."

"Yes I know. I didn't know it was you who had caught him."

"He's six feet under now, from what I hear. Died of an illness in jail. This must have really shook up the entire family."

"His son Gianni is capo now. But tell me, Mr. O'Neil, why are you here? What do you want to see me about?"

"I'd like to work with you on the same case. I am aware that you are also trying to catch the Dinos and that your wife was killed because of them. I know that if we work together as a team, we can really make a difference. This Mafia scum needs to be crushed. What better duo than us."

"I am very honored, Mr. O'Neil. I love your daughter very much and she has always admired you as have I. You were once an amazing cop, a legend."

"I still am and can finish my job if you help me."

"I accept. You know, maybe Lexa didn't mention that I'm writing a book about the Dinos. They cost me so much pain and suffering. I'm exposing their tactics and their crimes in my new book and I want to be the one to finally catch Gianni. With him gone, I'm positive that we can put a stop to their organized crime, even if not the Mafia institution itself. That is a job for many other dedicated cops."

"I'm going to be here again tomorrow morning to work on this case."

"I look forward to working with you, Mr. O'Neil."

"But I only ask that you keep this a secret. Don't tell Lexa."

"I'll do as you ask, Mr. O'Neil."

* * * *

Lexa and her mother were at the lobby of the Plaza. It was noon and some of the guests were descending the large staircase and heading in throngs to the salon or the restaurant to enjoy lunch and some social time. Lexa was rather hungry herself, and she knew her mother enjoyed luncheons, especially in style, and it wouldn't be long before they were seated at a table themselves, waiting for their order.

"What do you feel like eating, honey?" Katrina said to her.

"I don't know, mamma. I haven't been to the Plaza since -"

"I heard all about it. You saved the lives of your own Chief, your Mason Holmes and another cop. You were in Mississippi to bring to justice a group of Black Panthers that had been killing officers. I don't think you can do something like that without receiving some press. That must have been a nice party they threw for you here at the Plaza."

"I didn't think you'd read that part of the paper," Lexa said.

"Child, do you honestly think all I read is the arts and culture page? I read the whole thing. I need to know what is going on in the world. It's 1986. There was a time when I thought a woman had no reason to know so much."

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