Contract Killer's Next Hit

I found a shadowy corner and sat down, drawing my knees to my chest. I closed my eyes and let my body relax. So much of this job was waiting. Violence was quick, over in a heartbeat, but the waiting lasted for days on end. Drawing deep breaths, I eased into a light sleep, my ears listening for any movement to wake me.

Sometime later, I heard footsteps, and my eyes fluttered open: someone walking up the stairs to the roof; someone with a quick and light step; the step of a sneaking cat. The Black Ghost. Night had replaced the dim glow of light between the boarded windows. I slid my gun out of its shoulder holster, twisted on a silencer, and clicked off the safety. I have to admit, my nerves were a little on edge. The Black Ghost was a worthy adversary, and our meetings were always memorable. I hoped that tonight would be no different and wondered (cue the tired cliché!) if our next meeting would be also be the last.

This would be the first chance I'd have to really get a good look at the Ghost. The other times before I had only caught fleeting glances of a swirl of brown hair and dark clothing as I dodged her bullets. She'd gotten one in my arm and shoulder; I still bore the scars. This time (cue another tired cliché!) I hoped to return the favor.

I waited until I heard the access door to the roof open and bang shut behind her with a metallic clang. Quietly, I stood up and snuck through the room and into the connecting hallway; the stairs stood at the opposite end, creeping up into the dark. I padded my way to and up the stairs, traveling up the left side as the middle of old staircases is more often prone to creaking (take notes, boys and girls), and I held my breath as I approached the door to the roof, my pulse burning in my ears.

I pressed my hand against the cold metal of the door and thought 'Here goes nothing.' Taking a deep breath and holding it, I pushed the door open and pounced onto the roof, my silencer held out before me.

"Good evening," she said as soon as I was out in the open.

The Black Ghost was waiting for me. She sat on the edge of the roof, a semiautomatic machine gun in one hand. It looked like an Uzi. The gun was aimed directly at my chest, and the Ghost motioned with her other hand for me drop my silencer. Not really having a choice, I did so; and it landed in the gravel at my feet. Her long brown hair blew in the breeze, and she regarded me with a smug look.

She was a beautiful woman, probably in her late thirties, but she looked years younger. She had sharp, stunning features that spoke of Mediterranean descent, and her body beneath the form fitting black clothing she wore seemed sculpted by Michelangelo, himself. Her breasts were well-rounded and curved under the fabric; her stomach well-defined; and her hips voluptuous. I guessed she was wearing black spandex. It wouldn't have looked out of place in a gym and a comfortable choice if she faced any action.

Realization dawned, and I said, "The hit isn't on my father. It's on me."

The Ghost smiled, "Well done. I'd clap if I didn't have to hold this fucking bulky weapon in one hand, and I'm afraid you'd run away if I set it down." Her voice was low and smooth, a voice I associated with well bred, wealthy women.

"Try me," I snorted. The Ghost shook her head.

"Nope. Can't take the chance. I knew that you'd think this was perfect spot for a hit and come here to look for me. Dread wants your annoying little daddy out of the way, and the only way we can get to your father is if we get rid of you first. That way, who's going to stop us?"

"Sharky," I said, knowing her reply before she said it.

"Hah! How do you think we got to you? Sharky knows that it's only a matter of time before Dread takes what he wants, and Sharky is a businessman. The only loyalty anyone in this entire city has is to money," the Ghost said, enjoying the look of hopelessness that I allowed to cross my face. I wanted her to think I was beaten. If she got too cocky, I might have a chance.

"You were good competition; I'll give you that," she said, her finger tightening on the trigger of her machine gun. "It's a shame to think of doing this job without a rival like you lurking about town. Then again, it's high time a woman had a monopoly on this business. The city's not big enough for the both of us. But I'll allow you to say any last words if you have them."

I paused and said, "Catch."

I soccer kicked my gun at her, the weapon flying through the air towards her in a hail of gravel, and the Ghost raised her hands reflexively over her face. The gun hit her in the elbow and spiraled out into the night. I charged at her with a yell, hoping that I had enough time before she could react and get a good aim with her machine gun.

Blindly, the Ghost swung her arm back and fired off a spray of bullets. I felt a whoosh past my ear, blowing my hair, but we were too close, our bodies meeting with an "oof!" I rammed into her, a lowered shoulder placed into her stomach. I reached up and twisted the wrist that held the machine gun, and her hand lost its grip. The gun fell off the roof into the alley below.

The Ghost's knee shot up and caught me in the gut. She'd aimed for the nutsack, but I'd twisted away at the last moment, her curses filling my ears. Then she head butted me, and I lost my grip on her, falling backwards, seeing nothing but stars. Her leg swept through the air, her foot catching me square in the jaw. My teeth met in a devastating crunch. This woman knew how to fight.

I was no slouch myself, and I caught her leg in the midst of her next karate kick. I twisted it and drove my elbow into her knee. The Ghost screamed, lost her balance, and landed on the roof in a heap of heaving flesh. I dove on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

I hadn't wrestled with a girl since high school, and the Ghost's tight body squirming under mine must have brought back some old memories to my body because despite the danger of the woman below me, I felt my cock stiffen in my pants. I knew she must have felt it too, throbbing against her leg, because I was pinning her down with all of my weight, my hands locking her wrists, my thighs clamped over her own.

She was beautiful and dangerous, everything that I desired in a woman, and I don't know what came over me when I kissed her. Something electric passed between us, perhaps the power over life and death we both seemed to share, and she was kissing me back, her body no longer squirming under mine but allowing me to rub against it. Her hips raised to press herself harder against my body, and I could feel her heat building through our clothes.

Her tongue was in my mouth, and I caught it between my lips and sucked on it, feeling it writhe and twist in lustful passion. The Ghost moaned softly and began to grind against my crotch while I slowly dry humped her glorious body, our pelvises struggling to give and receive pleasure through the constraining clothing. I broke our kiss, and we drew deep, trembling breaths. Our hearts thudded against out chests, beating in time.

"Just for tonight," she said. "Tomorrow I will kill you."

I released my hold on her and tore through her spandex like gift wrapping on a new birthday present. Underneath was the greatest gift a man can be given, and I ran hands and my tongue over her naked skin. It was cool and smooth to the touch. My hands roamed everywhere: legs, thighs, hips, stomach, breasts. I needed to feel all of it. I kissed along her stomach and moved up towards her supple breasts with circling licks of my tongue. I closed my teeth carefully over a nipple and flicked at it with my tongue, then circled again before taking it in my mouth to suck. Her hands balled in my hair and pulled me up to her mouth.

"Taste me, darling. I want you to taste me," she said, kissed me delicately, and then pushed me down her body to her secret treasures below. I kissed along her inner thigh, teasing her with my finger. Need mounted from her pussy in waves of heat and moisture. I ran my tongue along the place where her pelvis met her leg, and then her hand pulled me to where she wanted me, not able to contain herself any longer.

Each woman has her own unique taste, and the Ghost's was the most amazing I had ever experienced. Only a woman like her (dark and mysterious; gorgeous and deadly; unattainable except in your deepest dreams) could have such an indescribably exquisite taste. My fingers toyed with her clit, rubbing and rolling and squeezing, as I lapped up everything her body fed me, my tongue slipping through her pussy lips and wiggling for all the feminine honey that it could get.

Then I changed position, slid my fingers inside of her and closed my lips over her clit, licking and sucking in expertly paced increments. I searched with my fingers to that special place all women have inside but not enough men take the time to find. I knew I had it as soon as she blew a heavy, lusty sigh through her lips.

I rubbed the spot with my fingers, sliding my hand in and out of her, working her clit in my mouth in rhythm with her gasps of pleasure. I felt her heat mounting, washing over me with wave after wave of ecstasy, and she began to buck on my hand, making her pussy slap against my fist with meaty authority.

She came with a shaking sob, her head flinging from side to side, hair flying around her in a swirl of brown. Her thighs and legs trembled around me, and wet streaming tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

"I need you," she whispered. "Fuck me or kill me now!"

Tough choice. I fucked her. I pulled down my pants, slid my pulsing cock into her and gritted my teeth as I felt her pussy wrap around me. Her lips met mine, our tongues flickering out and touching, and I thrusted in and out of her, my arms wrapped around her waist, each hand locked onto the opposite wrist, binding her to me.

I licked away the warm tears on her cheeks and felt her nail dig into my back as I plunged myself into her again and again. Our stomachs slapped, flesh meeting flesh, a sticky wetness attempting to glue us to one another at the crotch. Her legs wrapped around my hips and tightened their grip, forcing me harder and deeper inside of her. She arched her back and violently pulled herself into me, meeting my thrusts with her own.

"Yes, oh yes. Fuck me girl, fuck me," I muttered. The words seemed to be coming from a separate entity in another world. The only real thing I knew, the only thing that mattered was the explosive feeling of incredible passion that drenched me, overwhelming me, rising in my body, forcing my eyes shut and quickening my thrusts into the assassin below me.

She came again with a guttural growl, her lips curling back in a snarl, her body trembling from head to toe like a wet puppy. Then she screamed, a scream that tore out of her throat and howled through the night's air. Then it was over, and her scream was lost forever among the constant rumbles of the city: honking horns, far away sirens. We kissed again, her hands holding the sides of my head, and then she peeled her lips away from mine. Her eyes glowed with sinister desire.

"Cum on my face," she said. "Drench me with your cum."

I pulled out of her, feeling the cool breeze on my naked cock, and worked myself over her head, my hand on my dick, stroking quickly. She peered at me with a murderess's eyes, daring me to spill my seed over her sculpted features.

"Cum on me," she ordered. "Shower your hot jizz all over me."

Her voice signaled the end for me. I felt the cum build in my sack and erupt through my shaft and out of the engorged, purple head of my cock, splooging spools of jism onto the Ghost's perfect white skin, splattering her with strands of my nut cream. One rope landed in her hair and clung there; another smacked against her cheek with a wet splat and slid down her neck. A strand missed her eye barely, a bit of goo sticking to her eyelash. A puddle formed where the cum pooled in the small indentation at the bottom of her neck. It was like something out of a porno, and I mentally congratulated myself at the amount of cum I had mustered up.

I finished up and stuffed my cock back into my pants as I pulled them up, stood, and backed away slowly from the Black Ghost, knowing that this would be my only time for escape. I watched as she wiped the cum from her face with her hand and then licked it off her palm like a cat cleaning its paw. She waved at me just before I pulled open the roof door and disappeared down the stairwell.

"See you soon," she said.

***

I waited for Sharky in his office, the walls shaking from some techno music as the strippers paraded their bodies like juicy steaks to a mass drooling dogs in main room of The Deep End. Sharky had quite the setup here; it was no wonder he was rolling in dough. In fact, I wouldn't mind a setup like this. Nope. Not at all. It'd be pretty cool actually, with all the naked woman walking around backstage. I heard the door open, and then Sharky flipped the light switch, stripping away the darkness like the bodacious stripper tore away her thong in the other room. Sharky's eyes opened wide, seeing me in his chair with my silencer pointed at his burly chest.

His shock was apparent. He expected me to be dead by now.

"Junior, what's going on?" he said, but he didn't ask the question as though he didn't know what was going on. It was just something to say, a part he had to play now that his fate was decided. He knew that I knew that he knew precisely what was going on. Trust me, that last sentence makes sense.

"Sharky, don't play dumb. You are many things, but dumb was never one of them," I said, leaning forward in Sharky's large leather chair. My elbows rested on the desk between two leaning stacks of cash. I trained my silencer on his right eye.

"Junior, what about everything I've done for your family? I... I... got responsibilities. My family, my bar. What about my bar?" he stammered. It was sad to see such a big man's knees tremble with fear.

"You mean MY bar," I said and fired the gun.

~the end~