The Hired Gun Ch. 07

"Oh, is this the young man who painted your portrait?" I recognised the dig at the pilfered nude painting that had been used to denegrate the former Mrs. Gilbert after her expulsion from a partnership in a law firm.

"Of course not, that other talented young man has unforntunately been, deported." This was definitely Charity Gilbert's mother who took no prisoners when it came to dealing with confederates.

"Oh what a shame, I would've loved to commision that fellow to do a similar painting for me." The old biddy countered looking like Barbara Bush's grandmother.

"I'D BUY THAT FOR A DOLLAR!" I blurted out.

Two tables burst into uproarious laughter as Angela did immediate damage control spooning a heaping handful of green peas into my mouth facing Victoria with an award winning smile that read equal parts panic.

Did I mention I'd had a few drinks?

My hand crept upward almost cupping a tight buttock when Angela squatted down level with my head still grinning as she scanned all of the disapproving faces at the banquet table. Angela's harsh brows raised when my knuckle covertly nudged the outside of her left tit. The spoon hit the table as the laughter continued.

"I think somebody needs a cup of coffee."

I got a round of applause as Angela led me out of the nearest exit into the hotel corridor planting me on a seat. My eyes comedically followed her wagging finger before she drifted off in a huff leaving me there. She glanced back once as my eyes focused on that tight toned gym butt magnificently swaying at the top of her long model length legs. My head wobbled a little as my gaze drifted around the corridor.

Hours earlier, I'd received a shock to the system.

Alcohol followed.

"Excuse me sir?" The concierge returned.

"Yes."

"This is for you; elevators are key accessed in the main lobby." I was handed a packet with two room keys inside. He was already walking away without further instruction.

Ironically, I found myself sharing an elevator car with that lusty looking older Latina wife and her elderly husband who used his body as a blockade. She ignored the frantic small talk made by her suffering partner staring intently at my face getting a wink just before they reached their floor. This man was fighting for his life not to be a cuckhold keeping his body between us as they stepped off the car. I still had a slight buzz as I reached the seventh floor and stepped onto the floor. I went to my room.

"Have a sip of this; in fact, drink the whole thing right here, right now." Angela was just inside the door standing in the tight alcove with a cup of joe at the ready. I took it, but she still handled it as I sipped.

"Uhm, sorry about that?" I half apologized not knowing what to expect.

"Don't worry about it; I was on the hook as one of the hosts for the event. It was more of a handshake deal that I couldn't refuse but after that stunt you just pulled, I'm going to have to keep my head down for the next six months. Victoria's got one hell of a long reach, not somebody you want to make a longtime enemy of young man. Keep drinking while I finish up my five stages of grief."

"Sorry again."

"If I wasn't flying out to Boston in the morning, I'd probably be ringing your neck." She admitted averting her eyes as she mentioned the new job she'd landed out of town.

"Does that mean you're not going to sit on my face?" I sounded earnest making the stern authoritative mother of one chortle and cup my chin. Angela took the mug from my cupped hands leaving them free to finally grab those sculpted buttocks squeezing them like dual stress balls as hard as I could.

"I can feel how much you like me." My rock solid tumescence was wedged into Angela's muff as we crashed into the wall behind her.

My lips found the left side of her neck sucking up a hickie as she moaned cupping the back of my head. One of her legs rose balletically caressing the outside of my thigh as I humped and ground my bulge against her snatch. I liked the sounds of Angela's breathy slightly masculine moans taking an earlobe between my lips teasing the expensive earring there with my tongue. Angela forcefully pushed back.

"You know you fucked up, right?"

"So, I can't eat your pussy for three hours and fuck you so hard that you get on that plane in a wheelchair?" Charity's mother cocked her head to one side with a half smirk on her face.

"Nigga please."

"So, is that a yes or a, no?"

Angela's million watt smile returned as she stripped off my suit jacket followed by my clip-on tie undoing the first two buttons on my shirt as she backed a bit into the hotel room. She no looked put the coffee mug on the table while cupping the underside of my chin with this wicked look on her face.

"Come on open up and take your pill baby."

"AH!" She dropped two mints and something bitter in my mouth, then shoved her tongue inside making out with me torridly as I got so hard my prick almost burst. I poked her with it a few times thumping her slit over the clothes, before she backed away taking two steps, grinning.

"I told you to take your Wheaties last time we had sex; now I'm just going to break you in two." Angela said undoing the sash on her green dress letting the exquisite silken garment slide from her shoulders to the floor.

"Aw Gaddam shazam, fuck me." My jaw hit the carpet.

The former Mrs. Gilbert was decked out in this mint green mesh garter lingerie set complete with matching spike heels.

This mature former housewife and power lawyer put any Victoria secrets model to shame as strains of "Candlelight and You" by Chante Moore wafted across the room from the room's radio on one of the bedside tables. There was a ridiculous tent in my black slacks pointed in her direction. I felt like a horny teenager seeing a girl in a state of undress for the first time in my life. Charity Gilbert's mom indeed.

"Get over here boy!"

I was happily tossed onto the bed with a bounce before Angela pounced on me.

END OF VOLUME ONE.