The Commando and the Call Girl Pt. 02

Don't hurt my brother Tiffany. Don't force my hand on this."

"Is that a threat?"

Dennis peeks out the back door to see that the other guys have Calvin sitting up and that he appears to be able to walk under his own steam.

"Tiffany, you can take my words however you'd like. But I'll only repeat this once. I don't bluff, so don't force my hand."

Down the street at the Sassy y Classy gentlemen's club.

Tony Lino, the boss of the crime family that bears his name has just concluded a meeting with the other ethnic criminal organizations that are working throughout city.

The meeting didn't pan out the way he would have wanted it to.

"Hey T. How was the sitdown?" Crazy Nicki asked.

"Fucking Colombians and Russians!" Tony shrieked. "Wanting to renegotiate the street tax."

"Motherfuckers." Crazy Nicki said.

"They think we are ripe for the picking." Consigliere Frank Gallo added. "They know of our issues with the Dellasondro's and now they are willing to defy us in our own city."

Crazy Nicki turns to Tony. "We need to make an example out of someone Skipper. We've got to show these motherfuckers what time it is."

"Nicki, you're a third generation Italian American. You sound hella stupid when you attempt to sound like a black rapper." Tony said to him.

"Boss? Nicki's right though. These guys are going to keep pushing as long as they think we can't hold the line." Gallo added.

"That's the problem old friend." Tony said to him sincerely. "We can't hold it."

"Boss."

"No. Don't "boss" me. It's the fucking truth and you clowns know it. We can lie to others but we damn sure can't lie to ourselves."

"All respect T. But don't you think you're being a bit..."

"Hyperbolic? Oh how I wish." He said to his two closest associates. "Here, I'll prove it.

Tell me Frankie, how many hits do you have under your belt?"

"Does Vinny Merlin count?"

"No. You weren't the trigger man."

"Then I have one."

"The hit you made your bones on?"

"Yes."

"And that's been what? Twenty fucking years ago?"

"Sigh, yes."

"What about you Nicki?"

"One."

"I've got seven and I'm the boss of the borgota. None of our guys have more than one hit, and some have never even pulled the trigger."

"What are you driving at boss?"

"You're both Game of Thrones fans right?"

Both nod in assent.

Remember the scene where Robert and Cersei were talking in private and Robert told her that if Daenerys Targaryen could convince the Dothraki to cross the narrow sea to help her take King's Landing then they(Robert's forces) wouldn't be able to stop them?

All they would be able to do would be to cower in the shadows while the Dothraki horde basically razed the place to the ground.

If the Russians, the Columbians, or the Jamaicans decided to call our bluff and bring the fight to us, thanks in part to the fucking Dellasondro's, we wouldn't be able to stop them. Or even worse, if they joined forces.

They'd wipe us the fuck out."

"Then why don't we pull a Corleone move?" Crazy Nicki suggested.

"Meaning what exactly?" Frankie asked.

"Godfather One. We take out the heads of the other gangs, all of them. Even the Dellasondro's. We hit them hard and fast before they even know what's happening."

"Ok genius." Tony replied. "And then afterwards. The new guys piloting the ship. What are they going to do?"

"Nothing."

"What?" You stupid mope they're gonna..."

"No. Wait a second Tony. Crazy Nicki just might not be so crazy after all."

"Frankie? You know I hate that nickname and..."

"Shut the fuck up Nicki." Tony snapped at him. "Go on Frankie. Tell me more."

"What does every gangster that's not boss, what does he want?"

"Easy." Tony replied. "He wants to be boss. Fuck! Nicki, you really are a genius!"

"I am?"

"So here's what we do. We'll send for the number twos in all the orgs. We'll let them know that if they decide to make a move against their top guy, we will back them for the throne. Us and all the might behind the Lino Family name.

We let them cut the heads off the snake themselves.

Starting with the biggest fucking snake of all. Fat Pete Dellasondro. Get word to the Tall Man. Tell him I want a sit down."

"T? May I interject here?"

"I'm not opening debate on this Nicki."

"I know boss, but just here me out please."

"Speak."

"Boss. Fat Pete maybe a snake but the Tall Man is a weasel. Besides... him and Pete are too tight. Why do you think he'd jump ship?"

"Great question. And one that I can answer. You see guys, when the Tall Man finds out what Pete's been up to, he'll kill him personally."

"I don't follow."

"You see, Fat Pete has violated one of the most sacred rules of This thing of ours."

"Most sacred rules... wait, Pete's fucking some guy's wife?"

"Not just any guy. The sick son of a bitch is fucking his own sister. In other words, he's fucking MY wife."

Chapter 7

Tiffany's townhome.

Her hands have been shaking all night. The words of Dennis Porter replaying in her head.

Not his threat. She knew that Calvin would never allow him to harm her no matter how close the two of them are. But it was his other words that unnerved her to no end.

Her actions have convinced Calvin that she doesn't like him simply because he's a black man.

She can't allow that to stand.

It was close to midnight. Surely he had slept off his "bender" by now. She could explain her feelings and why those feeling have nothing to do with him and how she views him.

She slipped a button down shirt that had belonged to one of her clients, over her nude body and went across the townhome to the other side where Calvin slept.

"Calvin?" She whispered as she peeked into the slightly ajar door. When she didn't get a response she went all the way inside.

Inside she could see his shirtless chest moving up and down as he breathed. His stomach rippled with muscles. His boxer shorts were the only "cover" that he wore.

He looked at peace. A far cry from stories she had heard about shell shoc...people suffering from PTSD. She wasn't sure if she should wake him, but she's come this far; surely she couldn't stop now.

She goes to place a hand on his thigh in an attempt to rouse him from slumber, gently.

Only then did she get the shock of her life, for when grabbing for his thigh, she took hold of a fistful of dick!

"My God! Just how big is this thing?" She said to herself.

Having been a sex worker for as long as she had, Tiffany learned how "measure" a man's cock without a measuring tape or stick. She quietly applied this same method to Calvin which involved deep throating the dick as far as she could go. Ten was her normal limit before the "gag reflex" got to her.

At ten she was still at least two inches from the base.

"Bigger than any I've ever had. That's for sure." She said as she came up for air.

"Tiffany?" A now very awake Calvin said to her. "What's this? Am I dreaming?"

How could she ever explain this? Here she was, in his room, with his cock in her hand and her mouth only half an inch away from the tip.

Explanations, if any where to be given would have to come later. Without a word, Tiffany went back to the task of deep throating his meaty cock.

Calvin's entire body tensed up. Even in the dark, Tiffany could see that he had a fantastic and muscular frame. One that mimicked a male dancer more than a soldier.

"Unghh. I thought I was dreaming."

"You are dreaming baby." She said to him as she pulled her mouth off of his dick. And it's about to get even better."

She discards her top and climbs onto his stomach. They both stare hungrily into the other's eyes. They don't kiss. It's not time for that yet. They both want to see the expression on the face of the other when twelve inches of black cock goes where no black cock has gone before.

Inside of the hot black pussy of Tiffany Solomon.

She raises up and begins the long and arduous journey of making her way back down to Calvin's waist with his cock buried in her hole. She carefully inserts the head and eases her way down onto the rest as she lets out an audible gasp.

"Are you ok baby girl?" He asked. "Because we can..."

"No! We aren't stopping. I just need a...I mean...it's because...Look brah man. Yo dick is just too damn big." She finally said as they both laughed.

"I'm sorry." He said to her.

"I mean, damn! I can barely move with all of this dick inside me. I'm scared I'll rupture something if I start humping."

"Come on Tiff. You're an escort. Surely you've had..."

"Never Negro. I've Never had a dick this big."

"Not sure if I should be flattered or frightened. I don't want this to be a one time event."

"I'll get used to it." She whispered with a smile and a seductive wink. "I'll get used to you."

Calvin thrusted his pelvis up and down ever so slightly, and even that was enough to cause Tiffany to cream and squirt all over his cock and lap.

She collapsed onto his chest as the new lovers kissed deeply to top off their inaugural coupling.

"Where did you get all of this dick from?" She half jokingly asked as she started to ride it with a bit more boldness and reckless abandonment.

"I guess my father's side of the family had the good genes." He replied.

"Long and thick genes are more like it." She replied.

Suddenly. A sobering thought hit her. She knew nothing at all about Calvin.

Here she was, riding the "dick to end all dicks" for her, and yet, she couldn't tell you his birthday, his favorite food, or what football team he rooted for.

But why now is having this intel so vital? Chet has deposited enough cum in her pussy, ass and mouth to fill a large aquarium. And she doesn't even know his last name.

The hundreds of suitors that she'd entertained over the years and she's never asked. Never cared. It never made a difference... until now.

By now she could ride him in earnest as she had gotten used to him and her tight love hole had stretched to accommodate his length and girth.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She screamed. "Come on baby, gimme this dick! Fuck me baby! Don't play with this pussy. Work that dick boy! Work it!"

Calvin, surprisingly, was not without his own style of sexy "trash talk".

"You can't handle this dick baby girl! Look at you. If you wasn't on top you'd be running from this dick."

"Aaaaaaaaah!" She shouted as his words drove her over the edge and into her third or fourth back breaking climax of the night.

"See that? Your guy from earlier didn't hit this right. You'd still be in the bed sleep right now if he had."

"He wasn't trying to "hit it right" baby. I put that "good good" on his white ass though." She said as she spread her legs straight and wide as if doing a split.

"Just like I'm about to put it on you."

And with that, Tiffany tightened her considerable pussy muscles onto the massive man meat of Calvin's, and she started to "twerk" while riding his dick.

"Twerking on some black dick. Twerking on some black dick." She chanted as she channeled famous twerking YouTuber Caramel Kitten.

This prove to be too much for Calvin as he went off like a ballistic missile and flooded Tiffanys's insides with his seed.

He roared like a wounded lion as a crushing wave of endorphins flooded his system. Tiffany relaxed her clamp on his cock as it quickly started to go flaccid.

She lowered her torso onto his chest as his dick popped out and what seemed like a gallon of semen poured out of her snatch.

"Tiffany?"

"Shhh baby. Let's not ruin the moment."

"It's not that." He said to her. "Your thigh is crushing my dick."

"Oh!" She said as she quickly slid over. "I legit don't want to injure him."

"Him?" Calvin joked. "You have a name for "him" yet?"

"Yeah." She said. "Big Calvin."

"Big Calvin? But shouldn't I be Big Calvin and "he" is Little Calvin?"

She gave him a playful peck on the lips. "I said what I said."

"Would asking the question, "where do we go from here", be considered as "ruining the moment?" Calvin asked.

"Big time." She replied without hesitation.

"In that case. Good night then babygirl."

"Ditto."

But, as she quickly drifted off to sleep in the arms that have made her feel so safe in facing the world; her final thought was, "goodnight...my love."

Across town at that same moment...

Dennis Porter, fresh off his reunion with Calvin and the other men from their old unit had been summoned to a late night meeting.

A meeting that he only agreed to on one condition; a face to face with the boss.

He made this demand more out of frustration than anything else.

The other guys, not including Calvin had agreed to a night out on the town. Dennis had wanted to accompany them but once this impromptu sit down was requested...well, if he has to be inconvenienced then so does the boss.

So he agreed to finance the guys junket and maybe meet for drinks tomorrow as he drives them back to the airport.

Calvin...my brother from another mother. Heart of gold, yet stupidly always falling for the wrong women.

Maybe he had been too hard on the girl. The escort. He thought. After all, judging by the place she lived in, she'd have to be able to afford it somehow.

And since Calvin flatly refuses to join him in his work as a freelance hit man for the mob, he knows that Cal will never be able to help her pay for it. So she has no choice than to open her legs for the wealthy white elites in the city.

But to be fucking this...this clown while Calvin and his friends are in attendance? The height of disrespect. Calvin, bodyguard or not, deserved better from her.

Her choices are her choices. You can't force her to want what she doesn't want, but god damn it! Show my brother some fucking respect! I think he's earned at least that much.

"Didn't figure you for a day dreamer." A gruff Italian voice said from outside of Dennis' driver side window.

"You know...trying to sneak up on me is a great way to get your balls shot off." Dennis said to the mafia thug.

"I wear a Kevlar cup over my cast iron nuts."

Dennis flashed a 357 revolver. "At this distance both your armor and your steel balls would be forfeit. Now, where's the boss?"

"Right here. Mr. Porter." A voice called out that caused Dennis to not fully trust his auditory senses. This was a joke right?

He looked into his side view mirror to see a gorgeous white woman with red hair and a shape straight out of a rap video approach his car flanked by two bodyguards.

At first, he thinks this is a joke that's been played on him. But the seriousness in her eyes, coupled with the confidence in her stride said something different.

They both screamed ambition and revenge.

"Well...well.well." Dennis said as he exited his own vehicle. "If this isn't a pleasant surprise."

"I'm Rosalie Lino, Mr. Porter. A pleasure to finally meet you."

"I see, and that would make you the power behind the curtain."

"I'm simply an Italian housewife who is desperately trying to keep her family in tact."

"Not sure how whacking your husband's business associates will help to further that goal."

"It's not just his mob cohorts that I need eliminated. Thus the reason I'm here.

Your newfound scruples are proving to be a bit of an...shall we say...inconvenience."

"I'm sorry that you find my unwillingness to murder an American female an "inconvenience".

"Yet, you were willing to provide the serpent for such a task."

"Look. Don't blame your men's incompetence on me."

"It wasn't simply a matter of their "incompetence" Mr. Porter. She was rescued."

"Do tell." Dennis said. "You're telling me that she had someone around her that was brave enough to face down one of the deadliest snakes on earth?"

"Yes. We think that he was someone like yourself."

"There's no one like me."

"Don't be too sure, G.I. Joe." The mafia underling chimed in. "This "smoke" can do everything that you can do."

"I left my "mafia guide on mangling the English language" in my other suit. What the fuck is a "smoke?" Dennis asked.

"He's African American, Mr. Porter. The man who saved the target from the cobra." Rosa explains.

The wheels in Dennis Porter's head start to rotate at 120 RPMS. It can't be? Can it?

"You have a picture of this "smoke?"

"I have a photo of the target if you'd care to take a look."

Dennis takes the photo and studies the image of Tiffany. His emotionless stare gives nothing away. The photo is a nude still that Rosa had swiped from her husband's sock drawer.

He hands it back to her and asked only one thing.

"So, what has she done to earn your wrath?"

"That's not important." Rosa replies.

"It is if you want me to clip her."

Rosalie gives Dennis the 411 on why she wants Tiffany out of the picture to which Dennis laughs heartedly.

"Did I say something amusing?" She asked.

"Killing this girl won't keep your husband's dick in his pants."

"I have several reasons for why that's not your concern."

"Oh? And can you name a few?"

"I can name them all. All Five million reasons."

Dennis, this time, tries in vain to maintain a poker face. But a five million dollar contract has a way of making that task an insurmountable one.

Even knowing full well that this would bring him into direct conflict with his best friend.

"Give me your number." He tells Rosa.

After she complied she asked, "so does this mean we have a deal?"

"It means I'll consider it." He explained. "Meanwhile, are there anymore wiseguys that you want taken off the chess board?"

"Yes. But this time. I want the other side hit."

"Your brother's Family."

"Balancing act, Mr. Porter. Just maintaining parity. That's all."

"Sounds like someone is playing the long game. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you might be pulling some Game of Thrones type shit."

"Well..." She replied proudly. "I have been called the Cersei Lannister of the underworld."

Dennis takes a second to reply to a text and then he walks back to his car indicating that the audience is over. He looks over his shoulder and said to Rosalie Lino.

"You should have picked Arya Stark as your inspiration. At least she didn't die in her brother/lover's arms."

Back on the other side of town

"Man! Javier said. "This club is jumping!"

"I know it!" Cleveland said excitedly. "Dennis said that this was the hottest gentlemen's club in town and so far, I agree."

"What's the name of this place again? Sassy grassy? Rodney asked.

"Sassy Yet Classy you moron!" Both Cleveland and Javier say in unison.

"Place looks expensive." Rodney said. Are we gonna be able to afford this?"

"Relax bro. We've got Dennis's Amex black. He told us to knock the bottom out of it tonight."

"There are some things I'd definitely like to knock the bottom out of." Cleveland said as they scanned the room chock full of nude "Sassy Girls".

Let's get a table." Javier said.

The guys find a table near the stage and swipe the QR Code on a napkin to order drinks, lap dances and to view photos of the Sassy Girls.

"You think Dennis will pay for more than just dances?" Rodney asked.

"Let me text him and see." Javier said.

A few seconds later.

"Ok, we are good." Javier said to them.

"Is that what he said?" Rodney asked.

"No. What he said was, "what part of knock the bottom out are we failing to grasp here?"

"That's good because I...god damn!" Cleveland said as he swiped right on the photos of the Sassy Girl dancers.

"What? What is it?"

"It's Tiffany!"

"Who?"

"Calvin's Tiffany. She's a fucking dancer here." Cleveland said excitedly.

"What are you on about vato?" Javier said. "Let me see that. There's no fucking way that this is...holy shit it IS Tiffany!"

"But her name in here is Brenda. Brenda the Body."

"It's a stage name dumbass."

"Damn. Do you think Calvin knows?" Rodney asked.