An Assassin's Life

Welcome to Part Five of the story of a professional hitman and his adventures across the USA. You can read this as a stand-alone, but you might enjoy it more if you read the other parts first. He is a complex man with many sides to his personality, good and evil, and everything in between. There can be violence in this story. Then again, it's a story about a hitman. What would you expect? This is the fifth part of a vibrant canvas. I hope you enjoy it.

© 2023 RMcCIV & Rob McCall4 - All Rights Reserv

Taking Care of Business

It was time to get my shit together and take care of business.

My surprising love for Dawn and my goddamn dick had distracted me. It's amazing no matter how much you try, your cock's little head always hijacks the rational mind of your big head. Well, fuck it. It was time to get it on.

I still had the $2 million of stolen mob money under the chassis of my truck. I still had them pissed off and looking for me. I still had the cops seeking me thanks to the lot-lizard, Ginger, I had to kill in WaKeeney, Kansas. I still had the reality of that damn bullet through the window of my hotel room. And that meant I still had a lot of shit to deal with, still.

For starters, I needed to learn if that shot really was some drunken, stupid hunter or a missed attempt by another assassin paid to get me and was now on my trail. And if that was the case, I had to find out who it was, how they found me, find them, and get them before they got me. I had to get back to the Coffee Fix to figure out what the fuck was going on.

It was early afternoon. I was walking down US-191, known as Main Street as it passes through the town, on my way to The Fix, looking around at the La Sal Mountains looming over the southeastern edge of the Colorado Plateau where Moab is situated in when I bounced off of a massive piece of granite in the middle of the sidewalk.

I turned around to see 5'-10" of solid muscle with long dark hair, a leather cap, multiple earrings and tattoos, and a damned motorcycle club jacket on.

"What the fuck," and he looked at me, flashing a full grill of silver teeth.

I was in a Moab tourist t-shirt I had picked up earlier, my stonewashed jeans, and hip-looking hiking boots. I had my regular Glock behind my hip, and today, because I was possibly hunting big game, I also had my Glock 27 subcompact in an ankle holster above my right boot. My bush jacket slung over my shoulder was hiding the hip gun. Well, at least until I hit the granite block and dropped it on the sidewalk.

Grill Mouth looked over his right shoulder at the club brother behind him, another boulder with legs whose piercings and ink framed the prominent knife scar that went down the left side of his face from the forehead, through the eyebrow, ending below mid-cheek.

"Hey Zito, check out the little hiking pussy we've got in front of us. What should we do with him?"

"I think we should fuck him up for not showing you respect."

"Hear that Pussy Boy? My buddy thinks you don't know how to show proper respect."

Fuck me. The last thing I needed right now was more trouble, especially on a public street or having to flash a gun. I looked ol' Grill Mouth in the eye and steadily said, "Serious props, dude. No disrespect meant. I'm sorry, I got caught up in the beauty of this place, and I wasn't looking where I was going." I tried to lighten it up and swung my arms towards the scenic vista. "I mean, look at this place. It's inspirational."

I looked around and spied an old school bar on the corner across the street and said, "Hey, tell you what. To show my respect and to make it right, what if I treat you and your buddy to a drink across the street on me. What do you say?"

We were starting to gather a small crowd.

"Nah, I don't think so. But you've inspired me, motherfucker. Get ready to get hurt, you little cunt, 'cause I'm gonna put a serious whipping on your ass," and he started charging me.

At 6'-0" and in my hiking boots, I had a good 3 inches on him and at least six inches of wingspan. I waited until he was at full arm's length, ducked down, and came back up at full speed, hitting ol' Grill Mouth with my right hand fully extended and straight into his throat, instantly crushing his Adam's apple. He crashed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Zito was next. He was rushing at me in a rage, and I took him out with a roundhouse kick to his left temple that sent him flying into their bikes, knocking them over before landing in a heap upon them.

I walked back to my bush jacket to pick it up and leaned over Grill Mouth on the sidewalk with his hands clutching his throat, gasping for air, and I said, "No disrespect, Big Guy. You should have gone for the free drinks." Kicked him hard in the nuts out of respect, looked around at the looky-loos and said, "Sorry folks, shows over," and walked out of there as if I was The Shadow disappearing down a back alley to The Coffee Fix.

Entering, I was pleased to see Winny manning the counter, wearing that sexy dirndl, the German style low neckline ruffled, blouse, with her gigantic rack overfilling the tight fitting apron. I wondered if today's bra was also white lace.

I did my standard scan of the space. The northeastern corner was cleared out, and the tables and chairs had been rearranged in a loose circle around it. I smiled at the sight but noticed that that made the pathway to the back exit more challenging to navigate if needed.

For the first time, I noticed the large sign high up behind the counter with The Coffee Fix logo. God, it was butt ugly. A cartoon of some guy that looked like a troll drinking from a cup of coffee larger than Lizzo's ass. Good thing Winny's tits had me enraptured before I noticed that piece of shit. No wonder no one came here.

I walked up to the counter, saying, "Winny!"

She turned around and came running towards me, her ample bodice bouncing every step of the way.

"Jax! I was so hoping you'd show up today.

I looked her up and down wantonly. "How could I not. My second to my last day in Moab, and you think I'd miss spending time with the hottest barista in the entire town?"

And she blushed.

I gestured towards the room. "I see changes."

She beamed. "Yes! I told my dad the idea, and he thought it was brilliant. Our first band is tomorrow afternoon. Oh, thank you so much!" and she leaped across the counter with her arms out to grab my neck and give me a hug, but in mid-jump, her dirndl got caught on the edge, and both of her glorious breasts came exploding out of her top landing firmly against my chest.

They were as bodacious as they looked. Maybe a double-D, ripe, luscious, firm with slightly large and flattened nipples the color of a glass of fine cabernet sauvignon in the sunlight. A charming, multi-colored tattoo of a couple of magical fairies danced across the side of her right breast. I stared in amazement and admiration, wondering what it was like to be the artist holding that magnificent boob in my hand as I applied my craft.

"Oh no!!!" brought me out of my fantasies to see Winny desperately stuffing everything back in, overwhelmed by embarrassment.

I leaped over the counter, grabbed her shoulders, looked into her eyes, and said, "Winny, stop it. Stop it. Don't be embarrassed. You did nothing wrong. It was an accident and honestly, the nicest gift anyone could give me today," and I brought her into me for a long, passionate kiss feeling her melt into my arms like yesterday as I wrapped my right hand over her left breast.

She left it there and moved her crotch into mine, grinding against me, paying close attention to my growing erection as our kiss continued.

I broke the kiss stroking her hair, saying it wasn't her fault. Winny put her head against my chest, squishing he boobs into me as I held her.

"Thank you," was all she said. "My dad blames me for everything."

I continued to hold and pet her for a bit longer as she melted into me.

I looked at her. "I thought you were going to make me one of your perfecto espressos?"

Winny snapped to attention, gave me a salute, and with a "Yes, sir!" pulled her act together and moved to her machines while I moved to a table.

She brought it over and sat down with me.

"Okay, so tell me all about the big plans for the bands."

She did, bubbling over with enthusiasm. The first band tomorrow was a local band named "Endangered," and the bass player was her best friend, Stacy.

I oohed and ahhed appropriately until I saw my opening.

"Err, Winny, I'm still trying to solve this email mix-up we talked about yesterday. Did you happen to remember to ask your co-worker... What was her name?"

"Kelly. Oh! Yeah," she said excitedly. "I talked to Kelly, and you guessed it! Another dude used the computer that evening."

I nonchalantly took a sip. "By any chance, did she happen to get his name? You know, while writing down his order or something like that? I'd love to get this mix-up settled."

"I'm sorry. I don't think so, but she did say he was in his 30s and with another guy. You know, a hiking companion. They both bought drinks, making it a big night for us," She smiled.

She leaned in and whispered, "Kelly said she thought they 'played for the other team.'" She raised her hand to hide an embarrassed laugh.

That was interesting. "Thanks. That helps," and I leaned across the table and gave her another deep kiss. She responded with an open mouth. Our tongues played with each other for a while. I was the first to break it.

I held her cheek in my hand, "Will you excuse me for a minute while I use your computer? Then maybe you could show me those spots the cameras don't see?" I gave her a wink and strolled to the computer, still not wanting to use my phone for this.

It was first 15 minutes free with a drink, so I signed in and sent an email to an encrypted number and got a message back from our super hacker, Dixie Mitchell, in a matter of moments. I clicked on a few places as instructed and watched Dixie take remote control of the computer and start doing her thing. I stood up to hide the screen.

Winny had cleaned our table and gone back to her workspace. My phone vibrated with a coded message from Dixie saying she needed 15 to 20 minutes to do her thing. Okay...

Back at the counter, I stage whispered to Winny, "So, aren't you past due for your lunch break?'

"Huh?" she asked.

"I was wondering, what time is your lunch break?" and I lowered my eyes to her cleavage and let her watch me move down towards her crotch.

"Oh!" She looked up at the clock blushing a bit, looked around the place, walked to the door, and looked up and down the street. "I guess now."

She locked the door, flipped a sign, and joined me in the middle of the store, embracing me and playing with my ass.

I looked around. "So, where's the best place to hide?"

Biting her lip, Winny looked around nervously. "I'm not completely sure..."

"What about that door?" I asked, pointing towards the door off to the side of the barista's counter. "What does that lead to?"

"Oh, that's the break and storage room."

"Seems like a good place to me."

"Oh!" The light bulb went off for Winny. I could see how nervous she really was now that push was coming to shove.

"It's okay," I said reassuringly. "We'll take it as slow and easy as you want."

In a matter of moments, we were standing in the break room with my shirt off and Winny buck naked with her outfit on the floor, making out like teenagers.

I pulled off and said, "Wait. I want to look at your beauty and took a step back to gaze at the delicious, juicy peach bursting with sexual energy standing in front of me. 20ish brunette with large almond-colored eyes, a pretty face that she enhanced with careful makeup, pink lipstick, and really big round boobs, and about five to seven extra pounds that she'd lose in a year or two hiking these mountains and parks.

For such ripe and ample breasts, Winny's were high and firm. The cabernet-colored flattened areola covered a lot of the base of her boobs, but she had large and very suckable nipples and the enchanting tattoo dancing down her right breast that I discovered earlier.

Surprisingly, the little minx had a belly button ring that dangled and sparkled, and between her legs was a nearly full bush of chestnut brown "short and curlies." It was bikini-trimmed, but Winny was proudly natural.

It had been a long time since I'd seen pubes, a long time, and I was curious to discover if it carried down to her clit and pussy lips or if she groomed them bare.

Her bottom jiggled a bit as she hopped nervously in front of me.

"Well...?"

I walked towards her with open arms. "You are beautiful, Winny."

And she melted into my arms.

There was a cot in the corner. Too small. I grabbed the blanket, threw it onto the floor, and soon Winny was on her back as I licked down her neck to worship her breasts.

They were so full, bouncy, and youthful in my hand. Yes, youthful. In my 30s, I had gotten used to slightly older women or super-fit women like Medea. Even Dawn, though young herself, was a toned athlete.

There was a springy youthfulness to Winny's body that some girls have from their late teens until sometime in their early 20s. I wanted to drink it up, drown in it, I could have spent hours getting lost in her body, but sadly today wasn't the day for that. I had to get my info from Dixie, hopefully, find those guys, kill them, and get to Woody's on time to meet Dawn.

I made a note to be back tomorrow or stay one more day if I had to. The problem was I now had a boiling, insatiable need to possess Winny totally and utterly. That goddamn little head hanging between my legs again!

Possess her. A strange concept. Possess, ownership, make her mine. An antiquated term back from the times when a woman was property to buy and sell like chattel, but that's not who I am.

Yeah, I know millions of men are still like that around the world, but I like equality. Partnership turns me on like mine with Medea. If she can't match me, she might be a fun night or two, but she won't be sticking around long. Go find ol' Grill Mouth or someone to be dumb with. It's not like I'm going to shoot them or anything. I simply get bored. That might not be true for you, but it is for me. It's how I'm built.

Give me a partner who can hold her own and give me the moment. I'm good at that, being in the moment. Maybe that's why I'm alive because I relish the moment. And at that moment, I wanted to possess Winny completely and totally. Consume her as I would a five-course meal. Inhale her. Absorb her with my being. I realized my blood was boiling, and I was raging with lust for my cute, voluptuous, nectareous barista.

I read that JFK once said, "he was not

done

with a woman until he had her three ways." Now that's an oink-oink-pig statement that's true to its times, but then again, I understand it. I am a "three-input" guy, but "I'm not

done

with her?" That's not me. Hopefully, we have both had a good time, she has come at least once more than me, and if up to it, we both want to go again. Fuck this "done with her" shit.

All of that was going through my mind as I made my way kissing and licking down Winny's belly to her pussy and my first mouthful of public hair in years.

As I nibbled, pulled on, and teased her pubes, a flood of memories came roaring back, from losing virginities to romps in starter apartments to sneaking off into the woods during training. As I was licking my way down to meet my left hand that had already found Winny's happily hairless clit, the sensation of how a woman's bush tickles your nose delighted me.

Winny was squirming and moving her hips like a go-go dancer in a disco cage. A pinch and little flip or rub of her clit set off sparks in her.

By the time my mouth was on her snatch, she was leaking like a sieve and grabbing my head, pulling it in closer and closer to her clit, moaning, "Oh Jax, make me cum, make me cum." And I did. My little barista was on a quicker hair trigger than Medea's Walther PPK. I could feel the spasms as she came over and over.

But she wouldn't let go, so I kept licking, and goddamn it, if Winny didn't start coming again. Same spasms and jerking, but this time she started shouting her Lord's name over and over until she calmed down.

Four more orgasms later, she released me, and I worked my way back up to her.

"You're amazing," she said. "You are the most amazing man who ever lived."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Oh no, you are. No one has ever done that to me before!"

"Well, thanks, but I think you needed it and were desperate for the release."

"Well, Jax, I don't care what you say, you're fucking amazing!" she grabbed my steely hard cock. "Can we do it again?"

I no longer knew what to do. If I didn't come soon, my balls were going to explode. I had already popped twice this morning and was meeting Dawn for more fun later tonight. Fuck it! Live in the moment.

"Winny, are you on the pill or have any protection?"

She blushed at such a direct question. "Yes, my dad insists that I take the pill. He keeps saying that he's too young to be a grandfather. Is that okay?" and she looked at me again for approval. I rolled onto my back, threw her on top of me, and speared her in one thrust bottoming out as her pussy lips thudded onto my crotch, grabbing the base of my cock. I could feel her springy ass cheeks bouncing on my balls.

"How about that as a yes?!" I said and started to fuck her cowgirl, revving her up with my hands on her hips until she got the idea and the motion and took over, bouncing up and down on my cock shouting over and over, "This is so much fun. This is so much fun."

It was hot. I mean, really fucking hot. Laying there on a scrunched up blanket in The Coffee Fix's break room, watching her delectable 22 year old body with her hands on my chest, pushing herself up and down on my cock as her belly-button ring bounced along with those huge flopping tits, and her natural bush rising all the way up to the very tip of my cock and then plunging back down balls deep.

The noise of slapping from Winny's tits and our fucking was reverberating around the walls of the break room, and the air had become redolent with the smell of sex. Hot sex. Good thing no one else was in the joint.

Her pussy was so wet it was leaking out onto me and starting to foam up as her lips grabbed the base of my cock to slide up my 7" shaft and then down again.

I put my thumb on her clit and started to roll it around, tracking her movements while doing every trick I could think of to keep myself from shooting deep inside her.

"Make me cum, Jax. Do it to me again!" she screamed, and I grabbed Winny's hips, threw her over to her back, and began to pound her with all of my strength. So hard that Winny was grunting as I rammed myself into her ferociously.

"Jesus Christ! That's it! That's it!" she screamed as I plunged into her cervix, started to pop, and drained my nut deep into her womb, burst after burst after burst.

I grabbed her ass and pumped her hard three or four more times to get the last shots out and wring whatever orgasm Winny had left, and collapsed on her magnificent boobs squeezing them against my chest with my cock still deep inside.

We laid there panting and coming down for a while.

Lifting my head up, I tenderly brushed back her hair, and we kissed for a while.

I said, "Don't you need to get cleaned up and get back into the shop?"

She reluctantly agreed. I found some paper napkins on the break table for the two of us to use, and after throwing my clothes on, gallantly offered to step out first to see if the coast was clear as a way to check the computer before she slipped out.