The Commando and the Call Girl

"Boss? What...?" One of the underlings started to ask before Tony stopped him.

"Not here." He hissed. "Let's get to the club."

The "club" that Tony spoke of was the "Sassy yet Classy" gentleman's club that was under his Family's control.

The club boasted two floors, two stages and two hot tubs in the back. One could rent out one of eight VIP rooms for private dances at a fee of $500.

Typically, singles were never thrown on stage as it became an almost status symbol to tip the dancing girl no less than twenty dollars at a time.

The wealthy and generous patrons were rewarded heartily for their generosity as the were treated to the absolute best models that the city had to offer.

To become a "sassy girl", you had to look a certain way; your body had to be height/weight proportional. You had to really know how to dance and put on a good show.

You were selling sex to the wealthiest men in town and for them to desire to pay top dollar to not only enter the building but to also desire to "enter you", you definitely had to stand out from the other, lower class "butt naked" clubs around town.

Tiffany, in her "Brenda the Booty" persona, fit the bill in spades.

Her 5 ft 2 frame and her 38-26-40 inch measurements made her easily the headline dancer on a nightly bases, only being bumped when the occasional adult film star would come to town and "shake something strange for a little change".

Her choice of music to perform to was always a hit.

She would perform first to Marvin Gaye's "Got to give it up". In this number she wore a see through evening gown along with her very famous come fuck me stripper mules, and while the song was a rather upbeat tune that had otherwise distinguished businessmen and politicians standing and clapping to the beat(or at least trying to),she still moved somewhat slow and seductively yet still managed to stay with the rhythm.

However, it was her second song that really sent the crowd into a frenzy...

She would now completely disrobe. She would even discard her shoes as she swayed her hips to another very famous Marvin Gaye tune, "Let's get it on".

Men would throw nothing less than hundred dollar bills at the stage throughout the entirety. The song combo worked so well for her until other dancers were forbidden from using either one, even on her off nights.

After her performance and throughout her performance, she found herself unsettled by Tony's abrupt departure as well as his cryptic words about being afraid. Was he about to be indicted again or worse?

Those thoughts followed her back into the locker room after she collected her cash from the stage.

"Damn girl! Yo ass cleaned up tonight!" Her best friend Lisa Connery said as the two sat on a wooden bench in front of Tiffany's locker.

"I did alright." She joked as her yellow skinned fair haired best girl laughed with her. Lisa was gorgeous; maybe not on Tiffany's level, but more so in Mariah Carey sort of way.

"Are you ok?" Lisa asked.

"I am. But I'm worried about Tony. He wasn't himself when he left me today."

"Shit girl, you hadn't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Benny Bingo got whacked today."

"Shut the fuck up! Are you serious?"

"It's been on the news all evening. The anchorman speculated that a mafia war may be brewing."

Before Tiffany could ask another question, a waitress brought her a slip of paper with three names on it.

"Well, I guess I have my marching orders for tonight." She said to Lisa in regards to the men who would be enjoying her company in a more intimate setting.

"Let me see your list." Lisa asked.

After Tiffany hands it to her, Lisa goes over what she knows about the men.

"He has a little dick. This one just likes to lick pussy. And the third one...oh shit!"

"Oh shit? Is that a good "oh shit"? Or a bad "oh shit?"

"It depends on your definition of "is". He likes to ass fuck."

"He does?"

"Yeah. And he's hung like a fucking donkey. He has the biggest white dick...no, scratch that, he has the biggest dick I've ever seen live and in person." Lisa informs her.

"He's done it to you? Did it hurt?"

"Oh no. It slid right in perfectly." Lisa said sarcastically. "Hell yeah that shit hurt! Do you have any Tylenol? Any Valium? Any of that shit that Rush Limbaugh was hooked on?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, in that case, you'd better stock up on astroglide and stuff for an enema, because that man can bring "shit" out of you that you didn't know was even there."

"Based on that, give me one good reason why I should let him anywhere near my asshole?"

"Because he pays double and under the table. Tony will never find out that you're holding a little bit back."

"Well, thanks. But based on the other thing you've told me. Tony has other things on his plate to ponder versus wondering if I'm being straight with him money wise."

At that moment in the back office. Tony Lino and his three top guys have a meeting to see where they stand.

"T, this has to be the Dellasondro's. I say we put a contract on Fat Pete and the Tall Man."

"And just who are we going to give this "contract" to Sal? Are you willing to take it? You're a stock broker for Christ sake. Jesus fucking Christ! This was a masterful plan from start to finish."

"What do you mean by that Tony?" Crazy Nicki asked.

"Think about it. There are two types of wiseguys; you have your gangsters and you have your racketeers. Take Michael Franzese for example. The guy was a made guy, but I doubt if he ever did any wet work.

Now take someone like Roy Demeo. That's all he did was wet work.

So, whoever is doing this to us is taking out all of our shooters and leaving the racketeers in place."

"Why?"

"Because, without shooters, we are defenseless. They can swoop in and control our rackets and our money guys now work for them instead."

"Boss, the way Benny was clipped. Someone broke his fucking neck. That's not how wise guys kill. That's some military or ninja type shit."

"What are you saying Nicki?"

"Either the Dellasandro's have went through some type of commando style training, or there's a new player on the block, or..."

"The Tall man had brought in a freelancer." Tony says as he finished the thought for his underling.

"What does your father think?"

For the first time, Tony shows general agitation. "Fuck my father! I'm running this family, not him! He's retired and that's that. I don't want to have to say that again."

"Sorry T. So, what do we do?"

"Check with Toody and Muldoon or whatever the fuck our cops names are. See what they know. We need to either find this Rambo motherfucker who has been killing our guys or..."

"Or what T?"

"We need to find our own Rambo."

Chapter four

Tiffany pulls her Range Rover into the parking lot of the now dimply lit mini mart across the street from her townhome. It was a little after ten pm and she was on a very tight schedule. She'd be entertaining well into the night with three major clients on the books seeking her attention.

Armed with the information that Lisa had given to her, she goes into the store in search of two items, an enema kit and astroglide or something similar.

She quickly finds the items and then promptly makes her way to the counter to complete the transaction. She is now dressed more conservatively than before in a t-shirt, sweats, flip flops and a bandanna on her head.

A far cry from how she looked at the club and an even further stretch away from how she'll be adorned when her first client makes his appearance.

"Damn it! Where is the cashier?" She asked impatiently as no one had came forward up to ring up her purchase.

She sits the items down on the counter and walks outside to see if the store has been abandoned or worse, if a robber has the clerk possibly tied up in back.

When she gets around to the side of the store, she spots a black man who appears to be close to her age in a store uniform, eating a hotdog, drinking a slushee and smoking a cigarette.

"Excuse me sir? Do you work here?"

Calvin Jefferson looks down at his smock, and then back at the woman and nods.

"Well, if it's not too much trouble, could you pull yourself away from your gourmet meal and ring me up? I'm a bit in a hurry." She said impatiently.

Calvin took another bite of his hot dog and another puff of his smoke. He didn't like rudeness. He didn't know this person and he didn't respond well to that level of condescension.

Had she showed him even a modicum of decency, he might have shown more sympathy toward her plight. As it was, she could twist in the wind for all he cared.

"Ma'am I'm on my break. There are self checkout machines inside that you can..."

"No I can't. The self checkouts only take credit or debit cards. Im paying cash."

"Well can I at least finish my cigarette?"

Tiffany viewed the man with even more contempt than she had originally thought possible. He was everything that she despised about black men times ten.

No wonder he was working the night shift at a gas station. What other marketable skills could one such as he possibly possess?

"Listen here you 8 dollar an hour hack. If you didn't want to work with the general public then you should not have taken a job in retail.

Now, I happen to know Dinesh very well and if I call him right now and complain, you'll be out on your ass quicker than you can say EEOC. Now, do I make myself clear?"

Without another word, Calvin extinguishes his cigarette, collects his debris and after depositing the trash into the trash receptacle, he walks by Tiffany on his way back into the store.

My break was just about over anyway." He said with a smile.

After he gets behind the register, he rings her items up and bags them.

"That'll be $22.50."

She hands him a $100 bill and rather than protest getting such a large bill at such a late hour as the sign above his head says, he simply goes over to the safe and gets the change out.

"It looks like I owe you an apology." He says to her.

"It's nothing dude. Don't worry about...wait. What do you mean by, "it looks like you owe me an apology?"

"Well," Calvin said, "had I known that you were having digestive issues, I would have shown more urgency."

"Digestive issues? What are you...oh yeah, me and my "digestive issues." She quickly realized that it was less embarrassing to allow him to think this than it was for him to know the truth as to why she was getting an enema kit.

Thank the anal gods that he didn't appear to know what astroglide was used for.

She gets back to her place just in time for her first session. It was pretty standard. She sucked his cock and then he buried it as far as it could go into her tight black snatch. It only took a minimal amount of strokes for him to reach a climax.

For someone with a pathetically small member, he did expel a very impressive volume of semen. Most of which fell down the side of Tiffany's leg as his dick jumped out of her pussy as he came.

Client number two

Just as Lisa had told her, he liked to eat pussy. And to her surprise, he was damn good at it! His long tongue brought her to several thundering orgasms.

Lucky for him she had already did her enema in anticipation of date number three because if not, when she lost control of her bodily functions due to his tongue lashing of her clit; it would have been much worse for him with his face being so close to her anus.

When date three finally arrived, she found herself a little more than slightly impressed. "Chet" had the rugged outdoor demeanor of a farmhand only he was one who was also very handsome and very rich.

He was towheaded and wore his blond hair in a tapered military haircut. He didn't appear to have an ounce of fat on him as he looked like he ran three marathons a week.

Lisa, who she knew had been with Chet in the past, had only warned Tiffany about that one thing. She neglected to tell her about what a total package this man was.

One thing that she did get right was the size of his cock, Tiffany thought. It was ginormous! Not many men left her wet with anticipation, but Chet definitely checked all boxes.

She had her hair tied with an ethnic type of cloth. She had long since noticed that her Caucasian clients seemed to savor the idea of sticking their cocks into an "African Princess".

Chet was no exception as he constantly told her how beautiful she looked especially when she squatted down and gave him an extremely noisy, yet sensual blow job.

He almost came from her oral onslaught. But she wasn't having that. Before the night was over, she'd feel every inch of his throbbing monster in every pleasure hole on her body!

In their first position, he had her to ride him cowgirl style. He was very much the dictator in bed. He called all the shots. After all, he was the customer and the customer was always right.

Too bad that idiot store clerk had never heard that adage before...

Wait! Why was she thinking about him at a time like this? He was a nobody. A broke fool who could only find work at a job that either some teenager or some retired person should have.

Her focus needed to be on the man that was sending her body through orgasmic convulsions and was paying her for the privilege of doing so.

After she had squirted all over his lap and the bed. Chet decided to take the party to the floor.

He slid his pipe back into her pussy from the dominate position as she lay on her back with nowhere to run from his powerful stroking.

"You are getting this pussy, daddy." She yelled to him. "I've been cumming since we laid down here."

"You think that's something?" He bragged. "Wait until I stick it in your ass."

"Well daddy. Don't talk about it; be about it." She told him as she pointed to the nearby anal lube.

He scoffed at the gesture. "Oh no baby. I don't use that shit."

"You don't? She said in surprise. "But, your dick is too big to go in dry."

He smiled a wicked smile at her. "I only said I don't use artificial lubricant. I never said I was going in dry."

He retracted his cock as her pussy lips closed audibly. He had her to raise her legs and grab her ankles so that her ass was propped up to where he could reach it.

He began to tongue and lick her ass like nobodies business! Her mind was gone her will had been sapped and at that moment, had Chet asked her for the PIN for her debit card, she would have given him that as well as the keys to her Range Rover.

She had now forgotten all about Tony Lino and his problems, the clerk at the store whom up till this point, she couldn't put out of her mind, had slowly faded away, and all she could focus on was the party going on inside of her murky bunghole.

She felt ready for the experience. He put her on all fours atop a set of pillows for her comfort. The first few inches of his cock went in slowly with relative ease. The next 8 were another matter entirely!

She screamed, she cursed, she put her hand on his thigh to slow him down a bit.

But, she never said the words, "stop"!

"Rub your pussy honey. It will take your mind off the pain." Chet assured her.

After a few painstaking seconds/minutes, Chet had his white dong balls deep in Tiffany's ebony booty hole.

When she first paid for her surgically enhanced bottom, she just thought that it would be good to look at or even to smack while a trick was fucking her pussy. She never envisioned that anyone would want to test drive it!

"Ooo, that white dick feels so good." She cooed.

Chet straddled her ass and really began to ride her. He had given her ample opportunity to adjust and he surmised that she was ready to be "rode hard and put away wet."

She furiously rubbed her clit while he pile drove her ass like...a pile driver.

"Fuck this ass daddy! Fuck it!" She cried out.

"Whose ass is this Brenda?"

"It's yours daddy! It's your ass!" Tiffany declared after taking a moment to remember that "Brenda" was her stage name and that's who he knew her as.

Chet could feel his balls swelling with anticipation as he once again sent Tiffany through another round of crushing orgasms as she squirted harder than before.

Chet could no longer contain himself. He unleashed his monster as he came deep into the recesses of her bowels. He let out an unholy howl as his seed violently exited his body and went into hers.

A sexually drained Tiffany collapsed onto her stomach which extracted Chet's cock from her anus. He reached down and took hold of her from a spooning position. She gripped his forearm tightly as he kissed the back of her head through her head wrap.

"You ok Hon?" He asked her gently.

"I will be if you stay with me the rest of the night." She admitted to him.

"Oh baby I wish I could." He said to her. "But I've got to go home..."

"To your wife?"

"My wife?" He said with surprise. "Who said I was married? I have to go home and pack so that I can fly to New York for business."

At this news, Tiffany sat up. "Wait. You're not married?"

"No I'm not. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Because most of my clients are." Including my "lover", she thinks to herself. "I just assumed that you just wanted some black pussy before going home to the doting and unsuspecting spouse."

"I never dreamed that you were this cynical Brenda."

"It's Tiffany." She admitted.

"Who is Tiffany?"

"I'm Tiffany. Brenda is just my stage name and the name I give to the Tricks."

"So, what are you saying, Tiffany? Am I no longer a "trick?"

"Not after tonight, you aren't. That is, at least if you don't want to be one."

"Brenda...I mean Tiffany, I know that you and Tony Lino are a thing. Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, I like you too, in fact, I like you a lot, but I don't want to end up in cement shoes at the bottom of the lake."

She laughed. "Oh they don't have that kind of muscle anymore. Tony is running scared from someone right now."

Chet's ears perked up at that bit of information. "He is? Do tell."

"I don't know all the details. But someone has been killing close friends of his in the Family and he doesn't have the means to fight back.

The killer is targeting Tony's shooters. He isn't going after the butterass businessmen in the organization." She told him as she broke all sorts of mob associate etiquette.

Chet washed off and got dressed with the promise to see her again as soon as he got back into town.

After he was back inside of his car, he made a phone call.

"Hi Ms. Mary, I know it's late, but can you please wake him up? He's going to want to hear this."

"Aaron? Aaron! Wake up! It's Austin on the line."

"Hello?"

"Boss? I'm sorry to call so late. But man! Do I have a story for you!"

"Well don't keep me in suspense Agent Sharp. What have you uncovered?"

"I had been trying to get information from some of the other dancers in Sassy yet Classy, but this one; Lisa didn't really know too much. This one here that I bagged tonight though? Different story."

"How so?"

FBI Agent Austin Sharp relays his earlier conversation with the unsuspecting Tiffany to his superior.

"This is exactly what I was afraid of." AIC Aaron Banks admitted.

"What do you mean sir?"

"The Dellasondro's have hired someone with military training. Elite military training. He could be from anywhere. Russia, Israel, Colombia, or..."

"From right here in the good old US of A." Austin Sharp said.

"Fortunately and unfortunately, I think I might know who that "somebody" could be."

"Fortunately and unfortunately?"

"Yes. Fortunately because it gives us the chance to stop him before he kills again. Unfortunately, because if it is who I think it is, stopping him could could leave this city a burned out husk."

Chapter five.

Dennis Porter sat on his balcony overlooking a popular eatery that catered to the Millennial crowd. At this late hour, it was deserted except for the cleanup crew and a few managers who were still probably tallying up tonight's haul.