Alicia Ch. 08

Warning! This story contains material of an adult nature and is intended for mature readers and for personal use only. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah!" Alicia's breath was constantly forced out of her lungs, as Arnie pumped into her sex from behind. She was braced on her hands and knees, on the tiger skin rug, in front of the large open fireplace, in the lounge, her naked body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. Her only items of clothing, were a pair of patent, five-inch stiletto-heeled, red shoes.

With a loud, animal grunt, Arnie climaxed, his hot cum splattering into her tightly clenching vagina. Alicia gave a gasp of delight, and thrust her bottom backward to meet his plunging cock, with renewed effort, as she tried to attain her own longed-for orgasm.

He suddenly stopped thrusting, and collapsed, gasping, against her raised buttocks. "That was real good, babe!" he panted. "Real good!"

He pulled his still erect shaft from between her thighs, and sat back on his haunches, unconcerned that she was still unfulfilled. "I've got an important job for you tomorrow evening, honey!" he panted, giving her pert bottom a stinging slap.

"Ouch!" Alicia sank down onto her stomach, with a barely audible moan, and rolled over, starring up at him. "Oh, yeah, what's that then?" she asked, raising one well-plucked eyebrow. She was getting used to her new lifestyle. Provided she serviced Arnie regularly, she'd been allowed to indulge in a life of luxurious idolatry.

He stared down at her lewdly displayed body, and grinned. "I've got some important business associates coming over tomorrow night, and I want you to keep them happy, my love!" he murmured.

Alicia felt a sudden thrill of apprehension. Arnie core business was big-time drug trafficking, so any business associates were bound to be concerned with hard drugs, either that or prostitution, or one of his various protection rackets. "Ah, what do you want me to do, exactly?" she asked, a frown creasing her normally smooth forehead.

"Just act as a hostess, keep them well supplied with booze, and let them have anything else they want, while they're my guests!" he replied, a steely glitter in his eyes. Underneath that affable exterior, was a very, very dangerous man.

"Anything?"

"Anything!"

"What if one of them wants to fuck me?" she asked, with a sulky pout.

"Let him!" he growled, rising to his feet, and heading for the bathroom. "Do a good job, and daddy will buy you an expensive present!" he called back.

Alicia climbed to her feet, his cum oozing out past the dark swollen nether lips of her smoothly shaven pussy, and leaving glistening streaks down the insides of her thighs. She sighed. She was nothing more than a decorative plaything, to the middle-aged gangster, but her very survival depended on her acquiesing to his every humiliation. She padded softly through to the bathroom, to join her new master in the shower.

-oOo-

Although Angelica was about the same height, five-feet nine, as Alicia, that was where the similarity ended. Whilst Alicia was a dark-haired, olive-skinned Latin beauty, the stripper was a platinum blonde, with a typically 'English Rose', peaches and cream complexion. Angelica was a buxom 38dd, 26, 36 inches, compared to Alicia's slim but shapely 34c, 24, 36 vital statistics, and a good ten pounds heavier, but she oozed sexuality. She was slightly older than the brunette, somewhere in her late twenties.

Mike met the blue-eyed blonde in the darkened alley, behind the Pink Flamingo, as arranged. She was wearing a short, black mini-dress and high-heels, and looked as sexy as hell! "You said you'd got some information for me, over the phone?" he asked, eagerly, clutching her bare shoulders, and pushing her back against the rough, red-brick wall.

"Yeow! Easy lover," she complained, pulling a face, and pushing his hands away.

"Come on, Angelica, what have you found out?" he demanded, impatiently.

"I've found out who the baddies are," she murmured, "and it ain't good news!"

"Tell me, please?"

"It looks like your girlfriend has fallen into the clutches of Arnie Sidebottom and his gang!" She paused, waiting for the bad news to sink in.

"Who the fuck's Arnie Sidebottom?" Mike asked, with a puzzled frown.

"Where have you been hiding for the last five years," she replied, with an exasperated sigh. "He's only just about the biggest drug dealer in the home counties! He's got a finger in most of the other rackets as well, and there's more than a few bent coppers and politicians on his payroll!"

"How did you find out about this?" he asked, clutching her arms, but more gently this time.

"One of the girls, Susie, put the description, middle-aged, dapper looking gent, accompanied by two hulking gorillas, and the possibility of drug trafficking, together, and hey presto, she came up with a name! What's more, one of his strong-arm boys, Bull, I think his name is, comes into the club, occasionally!"

Mike's eyes lit up. "So, all we have to do, is wait for this big ape to show up, and then tail him back to their hideout?" he said, excitedly.

She gave him a look that said she thought he was off his trolley. "You've been watching far too many detective films, Mike!" she exclaimed. "Nobody in their right mind, messes with Arnie Sidebottom, not if they don't want to end up floating face down in the Thames in a sack, that is!"

"The next time this Bull comes into the club, I want you to phone me, immediately!" he said, savagely, grabbing her upper arms and giving her a rough shake. "Understand?"

"Okay, okay!" she gasped, a little frightened by the sheer intensity of his reaction. "But now it's your turn to shut up and put up!"

"What do you mean?" he growled, pulling back slightly, and frowning.

"Make love to me!"

"What, here?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yes, right this minute!" she hissed, her fingers fumbling with the zip of his denim jeans. She slipped her hand inside his briefs, and cradled his balls. "Don't tell me you don't want to?" She could feel his cock growing bigger and harder by the second, so the question was somewhat rhetorical.

"You sexy bitch!" he groaned, his hands pushing her short skirt up about her waist, before tugging her flimsy panties down almost to her knees, as her hand pulled his cock out, and began to pump it.

She groaned, and thrust her hips forward, as his stiff fingers began to rub against the entrance to her sex. "You owe me one!" she murmured, positioning his knob at her entrance, then wrapping her arms about his neck, and pulling his lips down to hers, in a passionate French kiss.

"Aaaaauugghh!" her breath rushed into his mouth, as he thrust his hips forward, and entered her, in a single, fluid motion. He was pleasantly surprised at how well lubricated she already was!

By now, her knickers had slipped down about her ankles, and she managed to kick one foot free of their entangling confines, before wrapping her legs about his waist, and locking her ankles. He gripped her ass in both hands, both supporting her and pulling her onto him, as he thrust deeper into her. "You sexy bitch!" he thought.

Their kiss came to a gasping, panting end, and she arched her back, throwing back her head. "Oh, yes, yes, yes, yesss!" she cried, hoarsely, as he began to pound into her, slamming her back against the rough brickwork!

"Forgive me Alicia!" Mike groaned, under his breath, as he tugged down the top of the blonde's dress with one hand and clutched a bouncing mammary, before thumbing her nipple into full hardness. His mouth engulfed the other teat and sucked, powerfully, while his penis pistoned, in and out of her eager, clutching pussy.