Juror

Wrong.

Teo was sitting in the only chair in our shabby room, expressionless, watching me intently. My Sig was in her lap, her right hand resting on the grip. Her left hand held her phone. Shit.

Gritting my teeth, I struggled up onto all fours. I paused for a second hoping the room would quit spinning and my stomach would quit spasming, then lurched up, cradled my testicles gently to my crotch and stumbled into the bathroom. I curled over the sink, enjoyed a couple more dry heaves, splashed cold water on my face, and rinsed the vomit out of my mouth.

Back in the room I sat on the bed and glared at Teo. "I hope to God you didn't put the battery back in your phone. If you did, we need to be gone from here, like now."

"I didn't, but I'm going to. I need to know that Ana is safe."

"You know that's how they found you. You don't even have to call, just put the battery in..."

"Fuck you, Frank. I need to talk to my sister, to hear that she's okay."

"Fine. It will have to be a very short call, and made far from here. We'll drive somewhere, you'll make it, remove the battery, and we'll run right after. There's no other way."

"Christ, how are you so sanguine about this, Frank? I just tricked you, mashed your nuts, which made you pass out and puke, and now you're being reasonable! What the fuck?"

"I should have seen it coming, should have been suspicious. I'll be more careful next time. But I appreciate that you didn't call while I was out. We'd have to scramble hard to stay safe, get far away from here in a hurry. Moving under pressure, before one can plan, is a recipe for disaster. You showed intelligence by not going ahead."

I ignored the suspicious look on Teo's face. She wasn't buying it, but I've always had the ability to move on. I took tons of hard licks in training but never held a grudge, just learned and did better the next time.

"Frank, I want to call soon. When can we do it?"

**

South Bend is due east of Chicago and, as it was a late-October night, Phillip St. Clair Park was deserted. The drive wasn't fun. Teo had continued to complain about everything. My silly precautions, the Mazda's ride, how I made her wear the overly large sweat suit I picked up at a Walmart to de-gorgeous her.

And how I'd lied to her. That was rich.

But she was insistent in her cross examination. "Frank, who the hell are you? Really. From the dossier they gave me before our jury duty, I know you were in the army, but in the Quartermaster Corps, which is not exactly special ops. I checked one night in your room, and your glasses are fake, no prescription at all. Plus your clothes are ill-fitting. It's like you're purposely disguising who you really are. I was very pleasantly surprised when I saw you nude. You must have a body-mass index off the charts. It made fucking you so much more interesting and fun, though."

She paused, and when I stayed mute, she said, softly, "I also want to say that I really became very fond of you, Frank, and am so sorry that I had to set you up."

I didn't say anything. It was her show and I kept my thoughts to myself, even though a part of me really wanted to believe that she had some feelings for me. Because, despite myself - such things are beyond volition, I guess - I had developed a pretty strong affinity for her. Oh well.

When I still kept my mouth shut, Teo continued, "Then, before I tricked you, you showed serious hand-to-hand skills. I'm damned good, but was not even close to your level. My guess is that you got something more than typical quartermaster training. Plus, you lied to me about your guns, your money -- yes, I found your other stash while you were puking on the floor -- and this silencer has to be legally questionable at best. Finally, you offed those assholes at the motel without a second thought. So, Frank, who the hell are you?"

I didn't feel I owed her a detailed explanation so just said that I'd been in a special unit of the quartermasters that included some counterterrorist training. A shade of truth there.

My career in the army took a turn after I qualified for Ranger training. I caught somebody's eye, and the "special group" I was invited to join sounded good. It was the brainchild of H, the Head, who maybe was named Werner Schultz, who maybe first worked in the CIA. But, as they aren't allowed to operate inside the US - and of course, they never do - he transferred out when charged with creating our unit.

With help from the highest levels, H carved out a special nook for the ten of us, hidden, even from Congress, deep inside the quartermaster corps. Schultz took his Prussian heritage seriously - even acquiring dueling scars - and his name for the unit was simultaneously its motto and operational philosophy. Stur is German, meaning stolid, stubborn, determined. With the implication of going through the wall. Headfirst.

Our preparation covered the gamut: sniper training at extreme distances, and the Gracie method adapted specifically for killing instantly, up close and personal. Stur's mission was as simple as it was secret: eliminate assigned targets, terrorists too clever to fall prey to our judicial system. Silently. Without a trace.

I'd resigned when I'd married Jan, but now, as I needed H's help, I was going to go back. As soon as I took care of business. Beginning with the trip to South Bend.

Though Phillip St. Clair Park was dark and deserted, I insisted we walk to a spot where I could see all around us, then told Teo to put the battery in her phone.

The call did not go well. Instead of Ana, some hood answered, told Teo not to hang up, and then explained the situation. Teo had it on speaker so I could hear, and I had a pad to write notes to her in case I needed her to say something specific.

The guy, Gus, one of Galliano's capos I assumed, told Theodora she had two choices. The first was to come to Washington D.C. and meet with him. He assured her that her sister was safe and he'd release her as soon as Teo arrived. She'd be fine, too. They only wanted to talk, just to confirm that she'd keep her mouth shut.

Her second choice was not to come. In that case they would record the long, drawn-out, and excruciating death of Ana. And text the mp3 to Teo's phone so she could listen. Over and over.

Even before I finished writing, Teo got it and told the guy she needed to talk to her sister. I'd written "demand proof of life," but whatever. I have no idea what they did to Ana to get her to scream so horribly, but her sobbing, pathetic pleas to Teo afterward were quite moving. Probably it was more than the pale, late autumn moonlight that made Theodora's face look so wan.

Teo stammered a couple times before she hung up. First, when reading my note telling her to say she'd drugged me, stolen my car, was on her own, and would be coming to D.C. immediately. Her voice caught again as she begged Gus not to hurt Ana. I wasn't concerned. Gus probably assumed that her voice cracking was because he'd made her sister scream again.

The ride back to Chicago was grim, at least until our ultimate destination was determined. Theodora was going to head east, either with me or without me. Even when I pointed out that meeting with this hood would be tantamount to suicide, Teo remained determined. I bit my tongue and didn't tell her the obvious - that there was no way either Teo, or her sister would survive such a meeting - because I realized that Theodora was going to do it regardless.

I argued on a bit, but eventually did what I'd always known I'd do and capitulated. Said I'd go with her and help. I'd thought my situation through long and hard earlier. I was in a tough spot. Despite any help I could get from H, my former boss, things looked grim. There is just no place to hide from an organization with tentacles reaching everywhere. Maybe you could last a year or so traveling from one burg to another in the remote backwaters of Wyoming, Montana and Idaho, but eventually somebody will recognize you and tell someone else.

Having neither the ability to hide, nor enough cash squirreled away to go live in Fiji, my only option was clear. I had to make it so painful to the parent organization that they'd decide that their subsidiary, the cause of all the trouble, was expendable. Then, if Tony Galliano happened to go away, the contracts on me and Teo could go away with him. But first, I had to make "all the trouble" for the parent organization. The mob.

The trip to D.C. would be the first step in beginning to do just that. Losing some of his men would get Galliano's attention. And the adverse publicity would prick the interest of his superiors.

Admittedly, I also had a personal motivation. Saving her sister would likely make Teo grateful, and that appealed to me. It also made sense. Having grown up in the mob, Teo knew things I didn't. A lot of things. Useful things.

Finally, I knew that once we arrived in Washington, Theodora would feel the need to forge blindly ahead, to immediately do something. Anything. Conceding to her plan now would be a bargaining chip I'd play later to convince her to give me time to find a way we could survive the encounter.

In the end I finally agreed that, after we got our stuff in Chicago, we were driving east. Driving, as I needed to take along more useful items from my mini-storage unit. Items airlines might deem questionable.

The front seats of the Mazda were separated by the gearshift panel, so she couldn't snuggle close to me. But, as I'd secretly hoped, Teo did seem grateful that I'd agreed to help. Her left hand began by landing on my hip. Then her fingers started squeezing, just a little, then relaxing and squeezing again. It was a nice rhythm, and I liked how they moved ever-so-slightly towards my crotch with each contraction.

Once they reached their target, it was pretty tumescent. She had a very lascivious smile on her lips when she reached over with her other hand and unzipped my jeans. Theodora expertly guided my swelling meat out of my pants and boxers, then sat back, watching, just toying with it. With me.

Her fingers encased the head, and twisted it gently to and fro. Then her thumb, opposing her fingers, slid the skin up and down over the spot where the shaft and head meet. Once it started oozing, she spread the clear fluid all around. Her little squeezes made it jump. And me twitch. Which she seemed to enjoy. Why else did she keep doing it?

It felt pretty good, damned good, and I was just about to tell her to cool it - we were only 15 minutes from the motel and I didn't want to crash, or have her make me mess my pants - when she leaned over, stood my cock up, and swallowed it.

Well.

She didn't respond to my entreaties to stop, even when I invoked various deities. When her hands split up the action - one jacking my shaft and the other gently caressing my still-tender balls - I careened onto the shoulder, snapped on the flashers, and stomped on the brake.

The Mazda stopped, but not Teo. Not until she'd had her way with me and my tool gave her all it had. Plus some. Theodora has serious skills.

When I could breath again, I lowered myself back onto the seat - her finger driving up my anus had launched me off the cushion - shook my head to clear it, and sat stunned and panting as she ran a finger up the underside of my penis, driving out and sucking up the last dribbles.

I tasted me on her lips when she kissed me. It was fabulous. Not my semen, but Theodora. She was so damned sweet. She looked deep into my eyes, held my cheeks in her hands, and thanked me for helping her. From the bottom of her heart. Perhaps I'm just easy, but I sort of believed she was really grateful.

I could have used a good night's sleep, but Teo was wired and dead set on getting started to Washington right away. She needed to be doing something, anything, to assuage the fear gnawing at her insides, and argued that if we could get to Toledo, biting 4 hours off the trip, the 8 hours tomorrow would be a piece of cake. Though I knew it was her that Galliano's goons wanted, and that they would keep Ana alive at least until the next phone call, I understood how Teo wanted to get there ASAP. Besides, I'd be able to use my compliance with her wish now as a bargaining chip later.

Theodora had always been able to read me, so I wasn't surprised when she noticed I was getting drowsy. We were still a good hour from Toledo when I suggested that we stop for coffee. She had another notion.

When her hand landed in my lap and unzipped my pants, I said, "Teo, I don't think that dog's gonna hunt again." Ten years ago I would never have guessed that I'd find a cup of Joe more appealing that a blow job from a gorgeous, newly blonde bombshell, but...

"You just keep driving, Frank. I'll see that you stay awake." Her deft fingers snaked into my fly and drew my listless, sad penis out of my pants. My eyes did open wider when she stretched it out and began licking my limp noodle from stem to stern. And back. Even if it was hopeless, it felt great and definitely kept me awake.

Next, she sucked it in, swirled her tongue all around for a bit, then pulled back. Her lips smacked as it popped out. "Concentrate both on what I'm doing to your lovely cock, and keeping the car on the road."

Yes, ma'am.

I'll always remember the first time a woman's lips wrapped around my penis. It was swell, but that early girlfriend's efforts had been put to shame by my wife, who practiced until perfect. Or so I thought. When Teo, then Katrina, first did a job on me the first night of jury sequestration, I realized that even Jan was a neophyte. And now, Theodora made all her own previous efforts seem amateurish, clumsy and ill-conceived.

First, she sucked my limp noodle hard, very hard. The strong vacuum inside her mouth pulled more blood into my penis, and once she felt it enlarge, her first finger and thumb clasped tightly around the base like a cock ring, trapping the blood inside. Then, holding it by the stem, she slid her lips up and down its length.

She relaxed her finger as she sucked again, then squeezed, keeping the new blood captive. More licks and kisses followed. She did it all once more. Then again. Over and over. Theodora inflated my penis like a balloon and before long I couldn't help but twitch each time she sucked.

Theodora pulled her mouth from it and laid down the law. "Keep your eyes open, focused, and on the road, Frank. Just let me know if it becomes too much. No crashing allowed." My groan communicated my assent as her lips encased me again.

Now that she had me up and eager, Ultimate Fellatio, Phase 2 began. At the same time she sucked, her tongue, as prickly as a cat's, licked the underside of my penis, right where the shaft meets the head. My most sensitive spot. It was so intense that soon I couldn't help but moan and jerk with each lick, and before much longer I couldn't suppress my squirming and gasping. All the while her other hand gently caressed my testes, teasing them, healing them. From their tingles and prickles I knew my balls were coming back to life, striving, producing, doing their best for her.

When her mouth again left me, she whispered, "You seem pretty close, Frank, so I'll do something a little different while you pull back. Keep your eyes open and on the road."

Yes, ma'am.

I'd never had a woman try to push her tongue into the opening of my urethra, but how she flicked and twirled it as she did was amazing. I guess this was Ultimate Fellatio, Phase 2A, and the tongue action; her firm, Masters and Johnson-inspired squeeze on the head of my penis; combined with how she gently coaxed my testicles down, away from my body; all were quite effective at helping me pull back from the brink.

Of course, once I was breathing regularly again, Teo went back to Phase 2, slowly and methodically dragging me right back up the mountainside. Once I again arrived at the summit, elevating off the seat, squirming and gasping, Phase 2A began again and pulled me back. Theodora played me like a yoyo, stringing me up, spinning me down, over and over. Maybe she didn't actually do a Walk the Dog, Cats Cradle, or Around the World, but the alternation of her tricks was mesmerizing and the time flew.

I was half way to the peak during maybe the fifth - I was rather distracted and could have lost count - iteration of Phase 2 when we hit the outskirts of Toledo and I saw the Motel 6. Teo pulled her head up when I exited the Interstate, saw the motel and said, "Pull into the parking lot, but find a dark spot."

Yes, ma'am.

Having been to the edge many times, it took only a few seconds of Ultimate Fellatio, Phase 2, The Serious Edition to get me there again. Just as I approached the crest, was teetering on the brink, Theodora popped her mouth off me, kissed me hard, and whispered, "Wonderful job driving, Frank, but I have big plans for tonight. I want you up and able once we get in the room, so I'm just going to take the froth off you now."

I hadn't a clue what she meant, but was gratified when her mouth began its magic again. Her tongue had its wicked way with my spot, and one hand polished my pole while the other tickled my testes. My breathing became more shallow, rapid, and irregular as I felt the semen driving up my cock, searing nerve along the way, and when it reached the launching pad, I knew it was going to be one hell of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Not so much. Teo's mouth and hands suddenly left me, and my abandoned, mystified cock trembled in the cool night air.

Teo whispered, "Watch, Frank!"

Yes, ma'am.

It was, well, interesting. A glob of semen oozed out, gathered at my opening, and began to trickle down my shaft. Teo wiped it up with a tissue just as the next dollop leaked out. It felt pretty nice, but was not at all like any other ejaculation I'd ever experienced where either I or my partner drove me through the peak, intensifying the explosion.

With what she later told me was a "ruined orgasm," there was never any ecstatic arrival, no convulsive eruption, and neither was there the release of the hormones in my brain that brought on the refractory period. Only a curious tingling sensation each time my penis distended and disgorged another measure of semen. After relinquishing just five driblets, my system was done.

Teo had wiped up each drool with her tissue, and, after I nodded dumbly to her question, "Are you finished now, Frank?" she sucked the remaining cum off my still erect dick, stuffed it back in my pants, zipped me up, and patted my crotch.

"There you go. That should do it. Your cock should relax and behave while you go get us a room, but get hard again when I want it to. I have big plans for tonight."

I had no idea what her "big plans" might entail, but, as I walked to the office, my mind replayed everything Theodora had ever done to me, all the lascivious personae she had embodied. The fellatio virtuoso, wielding my baton and making it dance to her tune; the championship bronc buster, who rode me hard and stayed in the saddle no matter how hard I bucked; the sweeter-than-sweet Ingénue who enticed me to become a missionary; the domineering succubus whose finger plowed furrows in my prostate, demanding it surrender every last drop; the playful delinquent pet who disobediently rebelled, refusing to heel or stay, but loved eventually being tamed, disciplined into becoming a good doggie; the wench whose spontaneous, teasing hand jobs could happen any time, anywhere; the passionate lover who swallowed my all as I savored her spend during our French explorations. All the memories flooded back. Together they seemed a veritable smorgasbord laid out before me.

I noted the old subtle swagger back in my step as I walked out of the motel office towards the car. To Theodora. In addition to the feast set out before me, I felt fully awake, alive again.