Sergey's Stashes

* * * *

Les wasted no time when we got to the room he'd rented at The Wave Hotel. He had me stripped down and bent over the foot of the bed in no time, kneeling behind me and preparing me for mounting. The first fuck was right there, with the larger and older man covering me from above and behind and taking me in a doggy. He had my chest bowed, gripping my wrists, and pulling my arms back--and thrusting, thrusting, thrusting, fucking me thick and deep.

He certainly knew how to do it. And, although forceful, he wasn't abusive. He knew how to move the two of us in one, smoothly operating unit in the fuck, moving together in the give and take, both concentrating on the shaft stretching and working my channel.

He didn't come to completion in that position, although I did when he released my wrists, wrapped one arm around my belly to hold me in place bent over the bed, and moved his other hand to gripping and stroking my cock in rhythm with the stroking of his cock inside me. When I'd come, he turned me on the bed, still hovering over me, stripped off his condom, and presented his erection for me take in my throat, which I did, and fucked my throat until he too tensed, jerked, and came, making me gag in swallowing his come.

That all could happen cruelly, but it didn't. It was all like a coordinated, smooth dance set to romantic music right up to the throbbing release in my throat and gagging on his come. Bent over me, he'd reached down and had three fingers in my anal channel as he fucked my throat, and I came for him again--for his fingertips stroking my prostate--almost simultaneously with him.

He lifted me and laid me on my back of the bed. Then he went off to the bathroom and pissed and showered. When he came back, he didn't come up onto the bed as I wanted him to--as I was inviting him to do by lying on my back, my legs bent and spread, a pillow shoved under my lower back to raise my pelvis invitingly to his penetration. He was slowly beating his shaft and was in erection when he came back to the bed, and I fully expected him to mount and fuck me again.

But he didn't--not just then. What he did instead was pull up a straight chair to beside the bed and rock my world.

"I wasn't told to do that, but I couldn't resist," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I was told to bring you here. I wasn't told to fuck you. I was told to pitch you?"

"I don't understand."

"I'm not a man named Les, and you aren't just a gay bar entertainer, Sean. You were a gay bar entertainer named Dale in a Las Vegas casino, and I'm a U.S. federal marshal. I'll remind you that Puerto Rico is U.S. territory, so I'm operating on home ground here."

"What is that you want?" I asked.

"It isn't you my people want. It's Ivan Sarnov. But they think the easiest way to get at him and what he knows is through you. My people don't want you, but I want you again if, after our little chat, you'll let me in. Do you think that's possible, or should I take care of my own need?" He was still stroking his cock. He was still hard as a rock--and long and thick.

"Yes," I answered, even while doing so being disgusted with myself for wanted cock so much that I concentrated on that rather than what else had brought him to me under false pretenses and how much threat that might be to me. "But what is that the feds want from me. I didn't have anything to do with Sergey Sarnov's death." I did have quite a bit to do with the money he had been stashing away, but I wasn't about to mention that.

"We don't give a fuck about Sergey Sarnov's death. We think his widow had something to do with that, but she's just going after his money. Other than being in a Russian mafia family, we don't think she's involved in what the Russian mafia is doing. But we think Ivan Sarnov is up to his neck in it. And he seems to have a soft spot for you."

I couldn't deny that. He'd saved me twice. And he fucked me whenever he could, showing that he was quite taken with me when he did so. Well, I was a bit taken with him too. "You want me to snitch on Ivan?" I asked.

"Essentially. We want you to get even closer to him than you are already. We want to know everything there is to know about the Russian mafia's casino operations worldwide. We figure working on Ivan and the one he's running here is a good approach--through you. So, are you going to work with us on this? We don't think you killed Sergey Sarnov, but the there's enough evidence there to hang it on you. You have your choices with us here."

"And I have my choice on whether you come up on this bed and fuck me again?" I asked. As for spying on Ivan, it didn't seem they were leaving me much choice.

"You do, yes. Fucking you isn't part of my brief. I just couldn't resist. I just needed to get you alone to pitch you on becoming our snitch. But if you don't take care of me again and I have to sit here and jerk myself off, I'll be one frustrated informant handler. You are going to work under me whether you want to or not. Do you want me to be a frustrated handler?"

"No, you can handle me as you like," I said.

And Les did just that. I watched as he snapped a condom on, lubed up, came up onto the bed, positioning himself between my spread and bent legs, mounted and penetrated, and took up the fuck again, sliding in thick and deep, and setting up a steady, smooth rhythm of the taking.

As he started to work me, I wondered what his real name was or whether he would remain Les as my handler. That thought was overtaken by my sudden realization of where I had seen the redheaded, blowsy woman before who I had seen in the bar earlier that evening--and the thuggish man who had been with her as well. She was blonde before. It was Sonia Sarnov, the widow. And the man was one of the Russian mafia thugs Sergey had used at the Las Vegas casino. He'd been the one the widow was hanging on at the funeral.

What was it that Les had said about Sonia? That she was concentrating on recovering Sergey's stash? I still had control of three million dollars' worth of Sergey's stash. Sonia and her thug were here for me.

Would the feds protect me from her? I didn't think that was too likely.

* * * *

"Why are you telling me this?"

I was on the bed in Ivan Sarnov's suite at the Concha Casino on Condado Beach, on my back, with Ivan stretched out beside me, having just fucked me quite satisfactorily. Afterward I'd told him that the U.S. feds were blackmailing me over the murder of his brother, Sergey, and wanted me to spy on him and the Russian mafia running casinos like this one. I hadn't held anything back.

"This life is getting too complicated, Ivan," I answered. "I don't want to go on with this juggling act. Something has to change. You've saved me twice. I want to save you now if there's a way to do it."

"You may be right. Sonia is here. She's and her lover, who was one of Sergey's bodyguards, are staying here, at the casino. She's been asking me about you--and about money Sergey stashed with you. I have played dumb about that. I don't like the man with her, Yuri. I think he may be the one who poisoned Sergey."

"Sonia's here?" I asked, feeling panic set in. But I shouldn't have been surprised. "I saw her, I think. I think she was at the bar last night. I guess she's found me."

"Have you ever thought of Cuba?" Ivan asked. "We have a casino in Havana. We could set up there."

"Cuba? But that's still hard for Americans to go to--especially more or less permanently, I've heard. And how would we get there?"

"You don't have to be American. I have another identity you can change to--Canadian this time. And my yacht's here. I keep it ready to go at the San Antonio marina on San Juan Bay. We could sail to Havana. We could do that now. I've kept that escape hatch available."

I had no trouble agreeing to that. "One last thing, though," I said.

"What's that?"

"Can you have someone deliver the codes for Sergey's Stash he left with me--the three million that's left--to Sonia's room?"

"Why would you do that?"

"I think she's just after the money. Yet another Russian mafia casino in Havana doesn't really put us--me--out of her reach if she hasn't gotten what she's really after. I think it's all about Sergey's stash."

"I think you're right. It's certainly worth a try. I can maybe distract her by turning one of Sergey's stashes I'm sitting on over to her as well," he said, as he rolled over on top of me again--for one last time before we set sail again.