The Commando and the Call Girl Pt. 02

Calvin understood fear as much as he understood death. He stilled recall the first time he pointed his m16 at an enemy combatant and fired.

He recalled that he feared the weapon in his hands even more than he did that of his opponent on the battlefield.

In the time it took him to chant under his breath, "breathe, relax, aim and squeeze, he had ended the hopes and dreams of another.

He wondered if the man had a wife and new born baby waiting for him back home. What about parents that were still alive?

While he never again had a full nights sleep since his first kill; he did stop asking those types of questions after the second.

"Baby girl, you can continue to hang out in the back. Once my relief gets here, I'll clock out and we can...go home."

"Yes." She repeated. "I want you to take me home."

Chapter 3

The next day. Tiffany's apartment.

Neither Dinesh Patel or his landlord took Calvin's abrupt departure well. But Tiffany was able to negotiate a reasonable "reletting fee"(after explaining to both the property owner as well as Calvin what a reletting fee was used for), and the woman agreed not to put anything derogatory onto Calvin's credit report, as soon as Tiff had paid the $1000.00.

An angry Dinesh was going to ban Calvin from his store until his other worker, Mrs. Adrienne Watson threatened to quit if he did so.

Tiffany was good to her word and took him to an expensive men's boutique were they specialized in hand crafted suits, designer slacks and the like.

He gasped in shock at the $12,000 price tag and the causal way that she dropped her Amex black card onto the counter to complete the transaction.

"I hope this isn't coming out of my check." He joked as they got back to the townhome.

"Business write off for me." She explained.

"Business?"

"Yep. Tiff S Inc. while being an escort maybe illegal, being a stripper isn't."

"I see."

"Speaking of "escorting", I have a few clients coming by today."

"Do you need me to leave?"

"Heavens no! I need them to see you here and know that they had better not jump stupid."

"Tiffany? Do you have any idea of why someone might want to harm you?" He asked as he places his hand on her shoulder. I mean, let's say that the Posse was a one off. Who do you think may have sent the cobra?"

"A guess? It would be whoever is after the Lino Family. They could be trying to hurt Tony by getting to me."

"Because you and Tony are..."

"Lovers? Yes. Does that make you uncomfortable to hear those words?"

"Not at all." Calvin lied. "I'm only here to protect you. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Well, at any rate, that's my theory." She said to him with a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for my date."

About five minutes later, Tiffany emerged from her bedroom wearing nothing more than an African print head wrap and a pair of what looked like 8 inch strapless open toed mules.

The tantalizing and vivacious sight of the nude 38-26-40 honey skinned 5'2 ebony vixen with the faintest nod to her heritage caught the normally unshakable ex special operations solider completely unawares.

And he reacted predictably.

"Whoa!" He said as he averted his eyes from Tiffany's nakedness. "I thought that you were going to get dressed?"

"I'm about to trade sex for money Calvin. What I actually said was that I was going to get ready."

"Point taken."

"So tell me...Mr. Bodyguard." She said in a flirtatious manner. "Are you uncomfortable with female nudity?

Or...more to the point. Or you just uncomfortable with my nudity?"

At that moment, Calvin thanked a god that he didn't believe in for his dark skin as Tiffany can only guess at how hard he's blushing at the moment.

"Well, get over it." She said to him. "Because You are going to be seeing a lot of me in the buff for quite sometime."

"Aye Aye, Ma'am."

The sexual tension between the two is broken up by the Ring doorbell.

"Ok, he's here." She said to him.

"So, what do you want me to do? Should I get out of sight or..."

"No. Go have a seat at the breakfast nook."

"Really?"

"Yes. Remember, I want these tricks to know that I'm not alone."

Tiffany then saunters to the door. The thought of what she was getting ready to do as he watched her jiggling ass bounce back and forth gave him the hardon from hell.

She opened the door to be greeted by an avg height, middle aged white man with silver streaks on both sides of his head. He was dressed in a suit that looked like it came from the same tailor that Tiffany had taken him to earlier.

He seemed like a no nonsense businessman with deep pockets that was willing to pay top dollars for the best of everything. And as he looked at the ebony skinned goddess in front of him, he knew that it would be money well spent.

"Hey Daddy! How are you today? Are these for me?" She asked as she inquired about the bouquet he was carrying.

"They are indeed. You hot little bitch, you. I hope you have that twat nice and wet for...holy shit! Who the fuck is that?" He said as he pointed to a seated and stoic Calvin.

"He's not important baby. Focus on me instead. Look at you! All tensed up. I want you to forget about him and focus on getting all of that stress out of you and leaving that same stress in me."

The man takes Tiffany by the hand as she leads him into her bedroom.

He quickly relieves himself of his garments and stands fully erect in the middle of her massive bedroom.

"Well", she says as she reaches over and kisses the tip of his throbbing white cock. "I can confirm that it wasn't a pistol in your pocket."

"That's correct my dear." He said as he slid a finger into her pussy. "I'm just really glad to see you."

"So, what's it going to be?" She asked. "The bed or the chair?"

"The chair." He said with ravenous lust in his eyes.

Tiffany sits down and leans back on the plush seat and places her feet on the arms. The "John" buries his head between her legs and begin to lick...loudly.

Tiffany responds in kind with body squirming and high pitched screams of her own.

"Oh shit daddy!" She cried. "Suck that pussy! Lick that clit!"

Her suitor is blessed with a rather long tongue and he puts it to good use as he laps the entire length of her vaginal opening with slow single strokes that send her body into convulsions of orgasmic bliss.

He decided to drive her even further into madness. He reached up with both hands and lightly pinched her nipples, while he simultaneously "bite" her clit with his lips.

This really served to push her over the edge...

"Please...please..." she said as the strongest orgasmic wave yet buffeted her entire body.

"Please? As in, please give me some dick Ron?" He said as he lifted her body off the seat cushion and sat her onto the arm of the chair.

Tiffany's mind was reeling. It always amazed her when the guy that was paying her for the chance to fuck her turned out to be a fantastic lay himself.

"Ron" it seemed, was one such suitor. She didn't believe that anyone outside of Chet or Tony Lino could put her body through its paces in this way.

Now it seemed that the one called Ron, along with his massive white member had the sexy ebony "sex-pert" on the verge of tapping out.

"Get this pussy white boy! Get it! Get that shit!" She ordered him. "Fuck this black pussy like you own it!"

"You'd better stop talking shit girl." He told her as he quickened his already hammering strokes inside of Tiffany. "I'll make you cum again and this time, you won't be able to shut it off."

"Shut it off? Daddy, I've been cumming since you stuck that thing in me. Now shut up and fuck me daddy. I want you to creampie this pussy."

"Oh? Is that a fact?"

"Yes daddy. I want you to get your money's worth."

"Let's go back to the bed." He says to her.

The two lovers make their way back onto the spacious waterbed while Tiffany finally takes the man between her lips for a quick deep throat.

"Unnngh! Damn it girl! Do you want my load in your pussy or in your mouth?" He asked as he writhed lustfully under her throat assault. "Because, I won't last much longer like this."

She began to suck even harder while she worked the shaft with her hand.

Ron let out an unholy howl as he shoot his load with pinpoint accuracy down into her intestines.

Ron's outburst caused Tiffany to climax yet again. The two lovers now laid side by side on the bed. Ron gave her a kiss on the cheek as he worked his way through what was now going through his brain.

"I've never came like that in my life!" He declared. "Brenda, when would it be possible for us to see each other again?" He asked.

Most of her customers knew her as "Brenda the Body". In fact, only her former customer and current lover Chet, knew her given name.

"Would you like to be put into weekly rotation?" She asked. "Because I can definitely accommodate that."

"Weekly? How about daily? What say I leave that ball busting cunt that I have at home, and the twos of us leave all this behind, and we start a whole new life in another part of the country? Sound good?"

Tiffany chuckled inwardly. Why oh why did she do this to these men?

The minute they nutted either in her or on her, suddenly she was too good for escorting and somehow became "wife material".

When she turned 18. Her mother, who had been an actual street walking prostitute, had told her about the "power of black pussy" and moreover, it's effects on the wealthy male Caucasian.

And as long as she was able to spread those ebony thighs for the right man at the right price; she'd never go hungry or without anything she needed or wanted.

And for once in her misbegotten life, Debra Solomon had spoke the truth.

Tiffany's father had been Debra's pimp and Tiffany's paternal grandmother had ran the whorehouse that Debra and a hoard of other working girls operated out of.

Her dad had been sent away to prison for life when she was 8 for murdering a prominent businessman who he caught assaulting Debra.

The jury showed little sympathy to a black "criminal" who had whacked out a wealthy white elite regardless of any mitigating circumstances.

"I'm not a home wrecker Ron. I can't have you leaving your wife and family for me." She explained with a light squeeze of his hand. "But", she said seductively, "I would love to be able to see you on a weekly basis."

Ron's face lit up. How pleased he was even for this particular olive branch. He vowed to make the most of these moments.

And his doting and completely unsuspecting housewife will never know...

He'll be swimming in black pussy!

Only one issue remained.

"Brenda?"

"Yes Ron?"

"Look baby, I don't mean to be "that guy" but can we get rid of Al Sharpton out there? He makes me feel a bit uneasy if you know what I mean."

Like a light switch, Tiffany's entire mood changed from one of satisfied orgasmic bliss, to dripping contempt for the man whose cum she had just swallowed.

"No. I don't "know what you mean" Ron. Why don't you say what you really mean?"

"Look Brenda. I'm not a racist guy. Hell I wouldn't be here if I was, right?"

"Debatable, but keep going."

Ron could since that he fucked up. Royally. But how? All of his intel told him that she thought the same way that he did regarding the male members of her race. So why did she seem so defensive about this one particular mope?

"I'm just saying. The guy looks like he just got out of San Quentin. How am I supposed to enjoy my time in here when I'm worried about getting mugged or worse by Tupac out there?"

"Get out of my bed. Get out of my room. Get out of my house! I wouldn't let you fuck me again for $10,000. You still here? Like Martin Payne says, "get to stepping!"

"But Brenda..."

"That isn't my fucking name! And if you're not dressed and gone in one minute I'm going to have "Tupac" come in here and open your white ass up."

"No need for violence. I'm leaving." Ron said. "But before I go, I'll leave you with this. I find it funny that you weren't so "team black male" five minutes ago when I had 9 inches of "white power" knee deep in that ass."

"We all make mistakes Ron; now, tick fucking tock.

The man storms out of the home past where Calvin is seated as Calvin springs to his feet into attack mode.

"She's ok! She's ok!" Ron pleads to him. "We just had a minor disagreement. She's fine. Go see for yourself."

"I'm fine Calvin. Let him leave." The reassuring voice from the room called out to him and said.

Calvin does as ordered and released the terrified man And runs in to check on his charge.

He finds her laying in the bed still nude with one of her knees up. He can tell that she's trying to compose herself. He stands there not quite knowing what to do until she solves the problem for him.

"Come lay next to me." She says to him.

He does as she asked and she laid her head on his chest. She then takes his arm and wraps it around her waist.

"Do you have a cigarette?" She asked.

"Uh. Sure. But I didn't think you smoked, and I surely didn't think you smoked in the house." He said as he handed her one and then lit it for her.

"I normally don't." She admitted.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"No." She admitted. "In all the years that I have been doing this; this is the first time I've ever wanted to take a week long bath. I've never felt so dirty... so used."

"I'm sorry." He said. "Is...Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes." She said. "Hand me my hand bag."

After Calvin hands her the Hermes purse, she reaches inside and pulls out a wad of cash.

"Here. Take this." She said as she handed him the money.

"Ok. What do you want me to do with this?"

"That's $1500.00. It's what I charged that fool that just left here. I don't want his money. I want you to take it. Buy yourself something nice."

"Oh god no. Tiffany. I can't accept this."

"Calvin. You really surprise me. In all the years that you were in the army, how is it that you never learned how to follow orders?"

"Uh, well..."

"Now, I'm ordering you to take this money. Is that clear?"

"Yes it is. Crystal clear."

"Good now...oh shit." She said as she responded to a phone notification. "I forgot that she was stopping by."

"Who?"

"My friend Lisa. From Sassy y Classy."

"Oh ok. Well, if it's a friend that's stopping by then do I need to make myself scarce?"

"No. I'd prefer that you entertain her while I shower and get dressed."

"Entertain her? Ok, I'll just grab my juggling balls and..."

"Just sit and talk to her, goof ball."

"Roger. By the way. Do you think that $1500.00 is enough for a down payment on a car?"

"There's no need for that. I'll buy you a car."

"What? You will? I don't know what to say."

"Nothing over 120k though."

"120k limit? Now I really don't know what to say."

"My bodyguard will dress the best, wear the best, drive the best and... you handsome soldier boy, look the best. There's nothing that the man who keeps me safe may want that he won't or can't have." She said as she closes the bathroom door and turns on the shower, which cuts off his view of her big plump booty.

He closes and locks the bedroom door so that gaining entry from the outside would not be an easy task.

He goes to answer the doorbell while Tiffany's last words replayed through his brain.

And he then begins speak silently...

"That's where you're wrong babygirl." He says under his breath. "There are two things that I desire that I'm sure I'll never have.

One of those things being a peaceful nights sleep, due to some of the sanctioned "war crimes. I've committed.

And the second? Well, suffice to say that it would take a fundamental shift in how you view someone like me in order for me to have the second."

Chapter Four The Dellasondro Family compound.

Peter "Fat Pete" Dellasondro, came by his nickname ironically. At 6'2, he was extraordinarily tall for a mobster whom most had an avg height of 5'6. But even more impressive was the fact that he didn't weigh 160 lbs on a good day.

Fat Pete like his counterpart Tony Lino, had inherited the reins of the Crime Family that bore his name from his father, the late, Peter Dellasondro Sr.

Both Peter Sr as well as The elder Lino had been a part of the same "77th Street Boys" street gang in their youth. Gangs such as these were a recruiting ground for the local mob factions operating around the city. The two best friends found themselves being recruited into the two most powerful of the Families.

Now rivals, the two tried to peacefully coexist by doing various heists and other mob related activities jointly. But as Lino Sr emerged as the dominant force in the underworld, he gained a lot of resentment from his one time Goombata.

But just like the United States had done in an effort to avert a devastating nuclear war with a jittery Soviet Union by allowing them to "catch up" in the arms race; so had Lino Sr did likewise by secretly allowing the Dellasondro's to keep pace with the Lino Family.

This proved to be an unwise decision. Lino Sr may have read some Machiavelli in his time but he never adhered to the principles.

The more ground the Dellasondro's gained, the greedier they got. The more he appeased, the more aggressive they became.

Combining the families through marriage would be the only way to avoid a long, bloody and destructive mafia war.

Fat Pete's cousin and right hand man went by the nickname of "The Tall Man", his moniker was also ironic as Dominic Dellasondro was short and fat. Behind their backs they were referred to in mob circles as "Abbot and Costello".

Fat Mike took control of the family after his father suffered a fatal heart attack several years ago. Around the same time, Tony Lino had "persuaded" his own patriarch to retire and hand him the reins in order to avoid a war once the old man was gone.

The era of the "mustache Pete" had once again come to an end as the young Turks took control.

"I know that you're lying to me Peter." Rosa Lino said to her twin brother as the two of them sat in a car in front of the house.

Fat Pete made it a point to only talk business in obscure places like cars, hotels, restaurants, or anywhere else where he thinks the FBI can't bug.

"Jesus fucking Christ Rosalie! I'm not trying to wipe out your husband and his crew. I have no idea who's doing this to them." Pete replied in regards to the fact that someone had been going after Lino soldiers and had successfully killed several of their shooters.

"Well, who else if not you? Neither the Jamaicans or the Columbians are stupid enough to take on Tony, and your group isn't being targeted so by process of elimination, you're it."

The raven haired voluptuous mob princess said to her brother. All her life she had been compared to a "young Paula Abdul" or an "80s Lisa Lisa". She didn't mind either one as she thought that both ladies were gorgeous in their day, although they lacked the red hair that she sported.

Her husband Tony, despite his numerous dalliances with other women, still found time to make ample love to his wife who he still would often say, "has the tightest pussy in all the west".

One thing that both Tony and Fat Pete would agree on is the fact that Peter Dellasondro Sr should have never talked business at the dinner table. Rosa knew much more than any mafia wife should.

"You're giving me fucking agita! What do you want from me here Rosalie?"

"I want the fucking truth! And I'll get it from you one way or the other." Rosa Lino said to her brother.

"Is that a fact? Pete said, somewhat anticipating what would come next. And how my sister do you propose to do that?"

Rosa rubs her hand across her brother's crotch. "The same way I always get the truth out of you. The same way I've been doing it since we were 18, and I made you tell me that it was you who swiped my naked photos."