Special Delivery Ch. 02

I looked at the pair of figures who were slumped over the large dining table. It was getting dark outside and in the half light I could see the gentle rise and fall of their breathing. It had been a lot of work and planning to get to this point. The guy was called Bill Roach. He was a fairly well known gangster responsible for a good deal of the organised crime and drugs in London. He was responsible for the misery and death that goes alongside these activities too. He was bald, in his mid fifties and stocky, with a snub nose and a permanent five o' clock shadow. He was carrying a slight beer belly with broad shoulders and large muscular arms from where he obviously still worked out. The other figure I could see was his wife, a scrawny blond woman with a fondness for too much make-up and oversized jewelry. They had an adult son too but he was out for the night, shame - that could have been twice the fun.

I had been watching them for over a month now. I knew this would be a challenge, they were almost never without security, apart from tonight. They had a date night once a month where they gave the security guard the night off and they would hire a private chef.

I managed to get chatting to Bill's private chef the previous night in the pub. It was fairly straightforward to drop something in his drink, just enough to make sure he was out of action for 24 hours. Nothing serious, just something that would give him the symptoms of a bad vomiting bug. After that it was easy for me to present myself as an agency chef. Bill and his wife didn't care about the staff so they didn't notice their usual chef wasn't there.

I had done a bit of kitchen work before, one of the many low paid jobs I had taken in the past few years. I busied myself chopping, peeling and prepping the roast. The couple were enjoying a glass of champagne as I took the first course through and set it on the table.

Bill and his wife had barely finished their soup before they passed out from the sedative I had added to the meal, just as I had planned. I gently lifted the wife, with one arm around her waist and took her through to a room just off the lounge. The house was large and expensively furnished, but still managed to look cheap somehow. Crime does pay after all. There was a silver and black colour scheme that should have been left in the nineties. I laid her on a gaudy couch locking the door as I left the room.

Next it was Bill's turn. I dragged him to a sofa in the lounge. It was quite the effort, he was a dead weight. He was lying face down. I pulled off his shoes and socks and tugged off his trousers and pants. His big white arse shone in the moonlight. I laid him on his side and took out some rope from my rucksack, securing his wrists and ankles together in front of him, making sure he was tied up securely. I stroked his thigh letting my hand caress his cheek and brush lightly against his hole.

"Wake up.." I shouted. His eyelids fluttered.

"What da fuck..?" He mumbled as he became aware of his surroundings. He started to panic, pulling at the rope securing his hands and feet. Then he saw me and froze "who the fuck are you?". His voice was deep with a strong South London accent.

I just laughed as I slapped his bare arse.

"Oi, you don't wanna do this. This will not end well for you" He was snarling now.

I could hear shuffling from the other room. His wife had obviously woken up. She was banging on the door, asking what was going on.

"Don't worry, love. It'll be okay" Bill shouted, trying to reassure his wife.

I shook my head. Stupid fuck, he couldn't even keep his own arse safe, let alone look after his wife.

I moved him so he was face down on the couch. His hands and feet were tied together in front of him forcing him into a triangle position, arse up. I positioned myself behind him. I pulled my dick out of my fly and I rammed into him hard and dry. He let out a howl of pain.

"Oh you're fucking tight" I whispered as I grabbed his hips and ploughed into him and again. Hard and fast. No slowing down this time. He was going to feel this.

After the initial scream he had settled down letting out the odd grunt of pain. This guy didn't cry like the last one. He was desperately clinging on to what was left of his sense of self - his gangster hard man image. Jesus he felt good. I pushed all the way into him and then almost all the way out before entering him again and again. I pulled his shirt away from his arse so I could see myself sliding in and out. He had a dusting of silver gray hair on his lower back tapering down to his arse crack. He was still grunting, but quieter now. His wife was still hammering at the door periodically. I felt the sense of peace that comes from being in total control.

After about 5 minutes or so of hard fucking I pulled myself out of him and walked towards his head. I pushed him onto his side. He was looking at me like he wanted to rip my head off. My dick was still hard and sticking out of my fly. I started to jerk my cock with a sense of urgency. He shuffled backwards on the couch, his face a look of panic. But it was too late, I came in thick heavy spurts over his face. He scrunched his eyes shut as the cum dripped off the end of his nose and chin. I took my phone out and opened the camera app, taking a few photos of Bill from different angles. One with his cum covered face, another of his freshly fucked hole and a couple of him trussed up on the couch.

I packed up my belongings into my rucksack and picked up a family picture from the mantle. Bill and his wife were at a wedding with their son. They looked happy. Who knows? Maybe I'd be back to finish the job at some point with their lad. I dropped the photo in my rucksack. I went round the house wiping my fingerprints from the cooking utensils and surfaces.

I took one last look at Bill. He was rubbing his face on the couch, trying to wipe my cum off his chin.

I could hear the wife still pounding on the locked door, less frequently now. She must be getting tired. I knew their security would be there soon, they'd be fine.

I let myself out of the house and made my way down the large secluded drive. I had a sense that this had been a good night's work.

----

A few days later I sat in my bedsit watching the television. There was a cop on the news talking about me. "Extremely dangerous, brave victims... blah blah blah..." Interestingly there was no mention of my visit to Bill. He must have decided to keep things quiet to save face with his business associates. I was planning my next target. There was an MP who had wasted millions in PPI contracts. He had a wife and three kids and a high ass. Definitely one to watch.

But then as I continued to watch the tv and something about the cop caught my eye. He had the look of a rugby player. Just one of the lads with sandy brown hair cut short and friendly open face, but with a definite air of authority. He was interesting, very interesting indeed... I made a note of his name.