tagInterracial LoveA Crime Saga Ch. 04

A Crime Saga Ch. 04


It was a beautiful bright Sunday afternoon. Roman was busy working out at his favorite gym. The gym was his shrine, and working out was like praying. Roman was in top physical form, he had an incredible lean muscular physique. Currently he was doing power lifts, blasting his chest and arms with bench presses and curls.

On top of pumping iron, Roman practiced kickboxing with a punching bag. This was how he kept in peak condition. He also ate right, too. And as usual, after his workout he would accompany it would a healthy sandwich and a glass of milk. As he sat down to eat, a familiar figure walked in.

“That looks good.”

“Hi Charlotte, how’s it going?”

“I thought I’d find you here, working out as usual I see.” Charlotte glanced at Roman.

“That’s my life.” Roman said with a smile.

“Did you hear the news?”

“No, what?”

“Dittel was shot in the head, he was pronounced dead on the scene.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently a botched sting op, trying to bust some drug dealers in Happy District. Stacy was undercover during the op; she was discovered, so she’s in shock right now. She’s staying in the hospital. Something was missing from the report, though; it didn’t mention how all the suspects managed to get away before the squad got there.”

“Wow, I just met him last week.”

“I know, I’m a little depressed myself. There will be a ceremony within the week.”

“I don’t even want to think about it.”

“So, what are you going to do now? Any plans?” Charlotte smiled, trying to change the subject.

“I’m just headed to the supermarket for a little shopping. Prepare a nice dinner, a little red wine, just relax. You’re welcome to join me if you like.”

“Sounds great.” Monday Morning:

Roman and Omar were in the interrogation room, trying to get information out of the sniper, who sat in jail for over the weekend. Mobs of people walking in and out of the precinct were typical on early Monday mornings. Kim was typing up her report on the events of last Friday.

Charlotte walked in late. “Hi.”

“So, what did you do yesterday?” Kim asked curiously.

Charlotte hesitated. “Well, if you must know, I had dinner with Roman. It was nice.”


“That’s it.”

Captain Grey walked out of his office and towards the interrogation room.

“Alright ladies this is a police station not a gossip room.”

Kim returned to her computer while Charlotte took off her coat and settled in.

Inside the interrogation room:

“Who the hell are you working for? Who sent you?” Omar snarled at the sniper.

The sniper didn’t flinch. Roman and Omar exchanged questions for almost an hour with little progress. The sniper didn’t say a word. Outside the looking glass stood Captain Grey, observing the situation. Omar was losing his temper. Grey opened the door and asked Omar to step outside for a moment.

Roman put his hands in his trouser pockets. The sniper looked at Roman’s belt, both a gun and a knife hanging from it. Then the sniper looked at the one way mirror. He knew people were standing behind the glass looking at him.

“Is there something you want to say, now that no one else is here?” Roman asked.

“…no windows…” The sniper motions Roman closer.

He whispers in his ear, “They’re all corrupt.”

Roman looked at him. At that moment Omar opened the door, “Grey wants to see you.”

Roman went outside to talk to Captain Grey. “What’s going on?”

“His lawyer is here, we can’t touch him now.” Grey answered.

Grey looks at Roman, “the police chief wants us to cool it down a bit, says he’s really biting the bullet for this failed sting op and attempted murder on the mayor. And bring some flowers for Officer Kelly; news reporters are swarming the hospital trying to get an interview with her. The bastard thinks it makes good media.”

“I’ll go with Charlotte.”


“So we’re letting him go.”

“For some reason the Feds got their hand on him. I’m interested in why their interested.”

Roman walked back to his desk to grab Charlotte.

From the end of the hall a powerful black man walked in, heading towards the interrogation room. He was tall, buff, with a shiny bald head and gold everywhere.

“Captain Grey? My name is Phil Fuller, I’m here to pick up the suspect.” He pulled out his wallet and showed his badge. The badge read Drug Enforcement Agency.

“DEA? What for?” Grey asked.

“Supreme court ordered to take him to another state. Says it’s too dangerous to hold him here. He’s a known drug smuggler.” Flipping his wallet back.

“How come we didn’t find out on his rap sheet?”

“What do you expect, he’s from Cuba. I have the writ right here if you don’t believe me.”

“His lawyer?”

“His lawyer is in our car, waiting.”

“…well then I guess he’s all yours.”

Elsewhere: Roman and Charlotte had stopped by a flower shop near the hospital to pick up some flowers for Stacy. Roman and Charlotte had never met Stacy, so they thought this idea would be awkward.

“Look at the mob…” Charlotte said in slight astonishment.

Reporters crowded the hallway to Stacy’s hospital room; they all wanted answers to how the police could let three suspects get away. Police officers stood in front of the doorway, pushing the reporters back. Roman and Charlotte tried to fight their way through.

“Detectives! Detectives!” The horde of reporters shouted, trying to get their attention.

Inside the room stood Lieutenant Mario Fisk, vice team members Leroy and Elroy, and Stacy lying in bed. Fisk was impeccably dressed in suit and tie while Leroy and Elroy both wore their thug uniforms.


“Detectives. Thank you for coming. Stacy, Roman and Charlotte.”

“Hi.” Stacy waved meekly.

Charlotte walked over to hold her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.”

Roman hands Stacy the flowers, “These are for you.”

“Thank you.” Stacy smiled.

“In a moment we will step outside and answer some of the media’s questions. That way we will get them off our back. Don’t worry, Stacy.” Fisk said.

Later on: “Sir! How do you explain the incompetence of your men that resulted in a fellow officer being shot?”

“The police task force is the best there is, their training is intense and dedicated. It is a tragedy that one of our own was gunned down, and we will do everything we can to bring these criminals to justice.”

“Sir! What steps are you taking to see that justice is served?”

“Police Chief Irons has told me that we will be working with the Special Investigations Department from here on out, our combined skills will insure that this situation will be controlled.”

After a few more questions and photographs, the crowd quickly dispersed. Roman and Charlotte decided to get lunch at the local Café and Diner.

Meanwhile at the public defender’s office: “Come in.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Lena Jew.”

“Well, if it isn’t my arch-rival, the conniving Mr. “Brick” Harden.”

“Such nice compliments coming from an old friend, and you even remember my college nick name.”

“I’m busy, so what can I do for you?”

“Just wanted to see if you wanted to have lunch with me.”


“Alright, I thought you’d say that. Here, all the files you need on your next two cases. You’re going to have a hard week ahead of you.”

“Thanks, I’ll manage.”

“Suit yourself. See you in court.”

Lena and “Brick” were both young hotshot lawyers who competed on all court cases. Lena had been struck with a string of bad luck in her recent cases, however; losing every one of them. “Brick’s” success on the other hand has gained him amazing popularity, and he has decided to run for District Attorney in the next election.

Lena quickly looked over the files. The famous “Trey case” had fallen into her hands. The FBI and the courts decided it would be better to hold Trey here because news hasn’t broken out over the city yet. She flipped through the other case.

“The mayor? Accusations by his secretary on rape charges and conspiracy to launder private funds?” Lena sighed.

Lena untied her long dark hair and unbuttoned the top of her blouse. She was stressed out. Lena did indeed have a full load in front of her. She decided to take the rest of the day off to prepare for her next case.

Meanwhile: Rosy sat in the tub, soaking her body. She was sore; she lightly touched her sphincter, feeling a tender sting. Her pussy lips were loose and spread out, revealing the pink walls of her pussy. Her pussy and ass hole felt raw, and her body extremely exhausted. She had just left Club Deep as they finally let her go after keeping over the weekend; her mind played back the events from the weekend gangbang. Big black cock filled her thoughts as she tried to remember how many filled her body.

Rosy felt so used and violated; the whole time she hosted three black cocks in her holes simultaneously, each one of them trying their hardest to shove their entire shafts in to the hilt. She remembered looking at their hideous faces shortly before being introduced to their cocks. Burly black thugs crowded around her, and more were lining up at the door. She still could not believe what they did to her.

They passed her around, plugged her holes, fed her cum, stuffed her full of big black cock. She was filled to the max, big black cock branded in her forever. Rosy touched her gaping ass hole again; her finger went in easily, her stretched out sphincter allowed her to feel the walls of her rectum. The tender raw feeling of her sore anal hole throbbed, forcing her to remember the brutal fucking she had to endure. The thought of taking in all those big black cocks amazed her.

She felt disgusted; they mercilessly force fed her big black cock. They took pleasure in seeing her struggle. The more she panicked, the thicker their cocks grew. And the bigger the cocks, the harder they fucked. And the harder they fucked, the more raw she felt.

“And the worst part was,” Rosy thought, “choking on their cocks and them reaming my ass.”

Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Tyrone. Rosy was shocked to hear his voice, but she was afraid to hang up. Tyrone told her to come to Club Deep tonight to perform, famous rap star DJ P was going to be there as well as the mayor. This was her chance to meet some important people and get recognized.

Later that night: A limo pulled up in front of the crowded entrance of Club Deep. Inside a young blonde was having her throat stuffed full from DJ P’s cock. He pressed her head down while he pushed his cock up. He was fucking her mouth like a pussy. She was drooling uncontrollably all over his shaft. The young blonde didn’t mind so much since he was, the famous DJ P. His rigid black meat thickened as she could feel her throat expand, DJ P fucked her mouth harder. He started grunting; he grabbed her blonde hair tightly and really pushed her head down on his cock violently. A loud groan drowned the limo as DJ P blasted a stream of hot cum down the pretty blonde’s throat.

The limo was just parked there for a while when finally the door opened. Indeed, the mayor stepped out along with DJ P, followed by the young blonde Gina, who was wiping the remaining cum stains off her face.

The crowd consisted of young hot white women and hulking black men. There were blondes, brunettes, and redheads, and they all had pretty faces, long legs, big tits, and round asses. Some just wore mini-skirts and a bra with a see through material over it; others didn’t even wear a bra. Other women chose tight shorts that rode up the butt. Some of them chose to wear fishnets or nylons and others went bare, but all of them wore high heels, as if it was a dress code. The women stood in the cold dark night, their skin raised from the chill and their nipples pointing out through their clothes. They all had one thing in common; however, they were all going to have big black cock inside them tonight.

No applause or shouting attempts were made as the famous rap star and the mayor walked by, only frightened stares from the women, and hard looks from the thugs.

Club Deep’s doors opened to greet them, and standing at the doorway were Brock, Tyrone, and Jamal. They exchanged handshakes and walked in. Shortly after, the crowd was let in.

Inside was a typical Club Deep party, bright dance lights and loud music, beautiful white women surrounded by large black men. On the dance floor the black men were groping every part of the women’s bodies. In the middle of the floor was a busty blonde dancing with two towering thugs. The one behind her had both hands inside her halter, fondling her breasts with large rough hands. The other one had his hand under her skirt while she had her hands down each of their pants.

Felecia was busy entertaining a group of black men sitting at a table. She wore her pink nylon blouse and mini-skirt again, the same outfit she wore a week ago when she was arrested, the cum stains still apparent on her shirt.

Brock, DJ P, nor the mayor could be found anywhere on the floor. Rosy was once again on stage, the idea of coming back here was the last thing on her mind, yet, she was standing here once more. She thought about wearing more conservative clothes this time for the fear of what happened over the weekend, but she really wanted to impress tonight. Rosy wore nothing more than a sheer purple top which was completely see through, and fishnet stockings. Her nipples were visibly sticking out of her top, obviously still tender from the rough treatment over the weekend. The mayor must be upstairs, she thought, but it was a restricted area.

At one corner, however, stood a pack of Latino gang members wearing red bandanas atop of their heads. There were six of them sporting flannel shirts buttoned at the neck and packing nine millimeters at their belt buckles.

They were known as the Razors. They were a small time group of thugs that tried to gain ground in the Happy District, but they didn’t have the cash or the manpower to compete with Brock.

Among them was a sexy Latin beauty with long curly orange blonde hair and smooth tanned skin. She had on five inch pumps and cutoff jeans; her long tanned legs looked lean and taut. Her thin pink bikini had pretty flower patterns printed over her nice full breasts. She seemed to be the leader’s girlfriend as she held onto his arm while he passed out drugs.

One of the two bouncers approached the gang, his big hands waving them to the door. Before he got a chance to react, the bouncer was shot point blank in the face. The massive black man dropped dead onto the floor; the surrounding people panic as chaos quickly filled the room.

The people scattered and ducked for cover as the gang pulled out their guns and started firing. The other bouncer pulled his gun out and returned fire. Even the band got up and started shooting, with Rosy being pulled off the stage.

Bullets flew across the room as glass shattered everywhere. The ruckus could be heard from upstairs; Brock and the gang quickly armed themselves and rushed down the stairs. The ensuing fight continued to the dance floor, the Razors knocking over everything in their path.

Brock and the gang hovered down the stairs, with shotguns and machine guns in hand. No one messed with Brock or his club, and the Razors found out the hard way. The Razors were pumped full of lead and shotgun shells. Their bodies were riddled with bullets.

Christina, the leader’s girlfriend, stood in horror as Brock approached her.

“Should I pump you full of shotgun shells or big black cock?”

“Fuck you.” Christina muttered meekly.

“My thoughts exactly, we’re going to stuff your potty mouth with big black cock.”

Tyrone and Jamal grabbed Christina by her arms and carried her upstairs. Rosy saw the gang go up the stairs and she knew exactly what they were going to do. Then she felt two powerful hands grab her arms and escort her up the stairs as well. She looked behind her to see a group of big black men following them up. She knew what was in store for her.

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