Rick Mallet Ch 15 16

Ch. 15 Clusterfuck

We entered the triple-decker and headed upstairs. Luscious Johnson was standing at the top.

"Ivana, whatchoo doin' here?" He said.

The trace of Russian accent was back in her reply, "Every ting iss fine. I come wiss gimp to blow off steam."

Luscious looked past her at me, and then past me. "Hey, Jimmy Mack!"

I froze for a moment. Trapped in a gimp suit between two Johnsons. Ivana gave me a cuff on the head. "Come on, you pathetic piss of shit!" And we moved on up, leaving the brothers to their reunion. If our plans worked out, they'd soon be continuing to play catch up in a jail cell.

We headed down the hall. Suddenly Connie stopped abruptly and checked her phone. "Shit! One of those jocks just found out Angel has a dick. Things are getting ugly. Let's go!"

I spit out the gag and we hustled down the hall and busted through the door.

Angel Stonewood was on the floor on all fours. Cum splattered her face and hair. Her plastic boobs dangled toward the floor, cum also dripping off them. Her skirt was flipped up, revealing her apple bottom with its own cum glaze and gaping hole. A red handprint marked her cheek and she was sobbing. The four jocks stood around her -- one with his hand raised-- but their attention snapped to us.

"Okay, assholes," Connie spoke out. "The Po-po are coming through the front door in about a minute. We're here to save your worthless asses. Out the window and down the fire escape! Now, motherfuckers!" She pointed at the window.

Give them credit, whether from basketball or a hood rat background, they didn't hesitate. In a blink of an eye the window was up, and they ghosted.

I ran to Angel, tearing at my hood.

"Let me get that," Connie said. "You help Angel."

I helped Angel to her feet, pulled her bustier up into place, and smoothed down her skirt.

Her sobbing changed to a gasp when Connie pulled the hood off. "Doggy!" She threw her arms around me and kissed me, smearing cum, tears, mascara, and lipstick across my face.

Then she pulled back, "Who's this bitch? Your girlfriend?"

Suspicion, anger, and jealousy painted her face.

"I'll explain outside. We have to get out and down the fire escape."

We raced to the window. I went through first and pulled Angel along. Connie followed on her own. Down we clattered.

At ground level, a federal marshal studiously ignored our departure. A mass of LEO's in blue windbreakers with their various agency initials gathered near the back door. One turned our way. It was Wax. "Hey!" He shouted and started toward us. At that moment, the hitters at the front of the crowd caved in the door, and they all surged forward.

I was tempted to meet Wax and cave his face in with my fist, but I had an obligation. With a wave to Connie, I pulled Angel along the alley.

Ch. 16 Hummer Hummer

Owen was waiting with the Hummer, motor running, on the spot I'd specified. Angel and I piled into the back, and he slid it into gear.

Angel leaned against me, sobbing. "You saved me, Doggy! Thank you so much." Her lipstick was smeared, black streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks, dried cum cracked on her face and crusted her hair. She looked around, and suddenly yelped at Owen, "That motherfucker slapped me! Run him down, Owen!" She pointed.

Out in the street, red sneakers jock ran, his back to us.

Owen veered the Hummer. I lunged forward and jerked the steering wheel to pull it away just before we struck the punk. Angel rolled the window down and yelled back at him, "Go suck a fuck, you fucking fuck! You're dead if I see you again."

I pulled her back inside and held her. "Angel," I said, "you can't fool people into thinking you're someone you're not, and then attack them for not loving who you are! You have to love yourself for who you are, and stick with the people who love you, and -- and let the other people go. Owen here loves you. That's a good place to start."

She cried quietly.

Owen said, "He's right, Angel."

I was wound up, and I turned on him. "Owen, it isn't healthy love to help her hurt herself and other people. You have to be able to say no sometimes. The two of you ought to give up the meth, too -- but that's another challenge."

Owen drove through the darkness toward the Stonewood estate.

I sat back and felt the fatigue of the long day, and the tension of all the baggage from the past settle on to me, like fog rolling in off the ocean. I closed my eyes and drifted, soothed by the hypnotic rhythm of the Hummer's tires.

I felt hands pressing and sliding on the slick gimp suit material.

Angel worked at the crotch flap. She looked at me with a grin as she loosed my cock and lifted it in her hands. She cupped my balls with one hand and encircled my cock with the other. "So tell me about the leather bitch and this suit." The hands promised pain or pleasure, depending how she took my answer.

I explained about Connie and our idea to get her out before the bust went down.

"So you did it all to save me?" She asked.

"Yes," I answered.

The cool sensation of air on my bare flesh gave way to warm wetness as she bent to take the head into her mouth. I stiffened in response, blood rushing to the area, muscles twitching, shaft thickening, balls tightening.

She sucked me fully in and let my cock grow in her mouth and throat. Saliva dripped and oozed down onto my balls as she massaged them with her big fingers. Pulling her head back, she licked at the underside of the head. Her fingers now encircled the shaft, working gently up and down. She swirled her tongue around the head, and probed the tongue tip into the opening. Her lips closed tightly around the rim and she sucked me in again. The pressure of the lips, then the feeling of her inner jaw, and the tightness of her throat stimulated every nerve ending on my glans. She worked her head and hand together up and down the shaft, gurgling and gasping around it.

I could feel the pressure building.

She fully engulfed me, slipping her tongue out to lick at my balls while her throat spasmed around my shaft. Lifting her head, she pumped my shaft, holding the head against her nose, while she gasped and drooled onto my balls.

She repeated that process again, again, again.

I couldn't hold back much longer. "Angel, I'm going to shoot."

She pulled her head back again. Still pumping, she said with a grin, "Fire at will, gun dog!" Then she wrapped her lips around the the rim and sucked like she was drinking a milkshake at a soda fountain.

I pumped, throbbed, and pulsed, flooding her mouth. A dribble of cum leaked around the edge. Another bubbled from one of her nostrils.

She looked up at me and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Then sat back and flipped up her skirt. Her rock-hard cock pointed at the roof of the car, a pale exclamation mark against the blackness of the skirt. She smacked her lips and said, "That's good stuff. Now you do me!"

"Wha--"

"Suck my girl-cock, Doggy!"

"You're a good girl, Angel, but I only go for the girl parts. I can't do that."

She pouted, "I thought you cared about me."

"I do, Angel! I really do. But I can't do that. Owen loves you; when we get to the house he'll do you, and hold you, show you how special you are to him." I looked up at his eyes in the mirror.

He didn't like me much, but he worshiped her, so he said, "Let me suck you and hug you and kiss you, Angel."

She didn't reply right away, just thinned her lips and flipped her skirt down.

We rode awhile in silence. Then she said, "Owen, let's go to the lake."