It was a whole new beginning.
Getting booted from the department had been unpleasant, sure, and no-one was exactly queuing up around the block to hire an ex-cop dismissed for excessive use of force...
...But there were always jobs for guys who knew how to handle themselves. Ex-cops, veterans, broken-down footballers and wrestlers who needed paycheck and weren't too picky about who they were working for. You could cross sides, and start working for one of the Bosses that ran things in the underworld.
So I traded my badge for a disposable phone and brass knuckles, and I started working the casino and club circuit, making my rounds and always waiting for a phone call to tell me to get over to such-and-such place to sort out some meathead who thought he didn't have to pay his way.
I set myself up with a downtown apartment, with a view of the river, and bought a new wardrobe of clothes that were good enough for Mr Vermicelli's clubs, but not so expensive that I couldn't handle disposing of them if they got torn or too bloody.
It wasn't exactly a progressive career path, but it was better than the unemployment line.
***
If you're going to bust heads, you better be strong.
If you're being paid to be that guy, it pays to invest in making sure that you've got the physique and the skills to do the business.
I starting rolling again, down at the Gracie Jiu Jitsu gym, and once a week I would put on a pair of 6oz gloves and do an hour's sparring in the cage - just me and a couple of the guys I rated.
Anyway, I found a second place, a little hole-in-the-wall gym about four blocks from my apartment, to lift weights at. Skills are fine, but sometimes nothing will suffice except brute force.
It was old-school - mainly bodybuilders on juice and a smattering of powerlifters and olympic lifters. The place stank of sweat, there were no treadmills and when I say 'black iron' I mean it: The place pretty much just contained rack after rack of bars, dumbells and thousands of kilos of heavy black iron. No B.S, just the stuff you need to get jacked.
It wasn't much, but it became home away from home, several nights of the week.
I had one run-in with some moron who mustn't have been wearing his glasses. He tried to strip down a barbell I was using... Pretty much when I was using it. We talked. We disagreed. He threw a punch and I put him down in about as much time as it took for him to lift his hand to me.
Later, after his buddies came back from dropping him to the hospital, they came and apologized... Said they hadn't known who I was.
Sometimes it's good to have a name.
The thing about being top dog is, you get your pick of the spoils. And in that gym there was one particular benefit to being on the top of the pile.
***
I was in later than usual. The gym stayed open till 2am most nights, and I was there after midnight, on a rare night off.
As I was sitting on a bench near the mirrors, catching my breath between sets of bulgarian split squats, she walked behind me.
I caught a glimpse of her in the mirror and did a double-take.
DAMN!
My eyes tracked her across the gym floor as she swayed by. She wasn't the first broad I'd seen in the gym, but she was one of the first I'd seen in by herself, without a boyfriend, or who wasn't a jacked-up female bodybuilder with a man-chin.
This chick was built like a walking wet dream.
Strong-looking, like she trained, sure, but with on top of that muscle she was still curvy and stacked... If sex was an olympic sport, this is what the athletes would have looked like. Hot, hot, hot. Practically built to get a guy hard.
She was wearing white athletic shoes, and skin-tight leggings that clung to long legs. My eyes wandered up and took in a perfectly rounded, juicy ass. I could see the faint imprint of a thong underneath, and it bounced, perfectly heart-shaped, as she walked. She had a neat waist, and the neon yellow tank top she was wearing clung to a pretty jaw-dropping rack. This chick had that kind of high-end boob job you see on the latest generation of hollywood actress: Not improbably big and cheap looking, like some 90s porn starlet... But somehow natural-looking even though you could tell by their DD size that they probably weren't wholly authentic on her athletic frame.
I could tell by the hint of rippling muscle underneath the spandex that this was a chick who took her training seriously. A beautiful combination of soft, yielding flesh (man, that ass.. Those tits!) and tight, gym-honed muscle. I figured maybe a dancer, a pro athlete, or a high-end prostitute.
She tossed her shoulder length black hair, tied in a single pony-tail, and I caught a glimpse of high, slavic cheekbones and flashing green eyes. Her full lips quirked, slightly amused, as she caught me turning my head to look after her.
'Damn,' I said to myself, shaking me my head and picking up my dumbells to continue my workout.
About fifteen minutes later I eventually finished up, and was strolling towards the locker-room. I'd partially forgotten the girl in the tight pants until I heard a kind of commotion from one of the rooms just off the main gym floor. It was a kind of annex, filled with some of the more niche tools... Kettlebells, indian clubs, some other stuff that guys occassionaly used to fill in gaps in their training.
At first I took the grunting noises to just be someone working out intensely, but I could hear voices too... Low, but urgent.
'Yeah... That's it... Damn, girl... Frickin' work my cock...'
There was the sound of flesh slapping on flesh, and as I came into the room I realized that Marco, one of the newer guys hanging around the bodybuilding crew lately, was standing in the corner with his pants down around his ankles.
'Ahh.... You frickin' slut... I'm gonna fuck your ass so hard after this...'
My eyes widened when I saw that the girl from earlier was on her knees, caught between Marco and the dumbell rack. She still wore those second-skin pants, but somewhere along the way her halter top had come off, along with her sports bra, and I could see that she was naked from the waist up. She seemed to be squirming, caught against the rack and Marco's pumping hips.
'Uuuuugh.... Aaaagh... Not so rough, please...' She was breathing hard, and her pretty face was twisted in discomfort as Marco had her pony-tail wound around his hand.
'Shut it, babe... If you didn't want this you shouldn't have led me on.... You weren't exactly objecting when I started touching you up...'
Marco's cock was sliding in and out of the girl's epic cleavage. She had her arms crossed, pushing up her tits and forming a sweat-slicked valley for him to plough. His whole body was quivering with apparent pleasure, and each time he threw his hips forward his dick would slither through her compressed tits and slap wetly off her chin.
I bunched my fists up and stepped closer. I'm no knight in shining armor, but I could see an angle here....
'MARCO!'
He ignored me, and suddenly he seemed to become almost animalistic as he sped up the pace of his tit-fuck. The girl was moaning and biting her lip as he kept yanking on her pony-tail.
'MARCO, What the hell are you doing forcing yourself on-....'
The idiot finally saw me, in the mirror in front of him, and two things happened.
One: Marco's eyes bulged in fear. He'd seen me break a guy's jaw and fracture his cheekbone, popping the guy's eye out, in this very gym. I looked pissed, and he knew I had the ability to follow through.
Second: He came. Like a damn horse.
Groaning, he went stiff as a board and one of his hands caught onto his cock and jacked it furiously. He fell away from the girl, who squealed in surprise as he finally let go of her hair. Hot, pearly semen started pumping onto her, although by then she had turned her face to me and seemed more surprised about seeing me than about the jizz splattering her. It fell in thick ropes on those heaving tits, and a particularly thick chunk hit off her shoulder and ended up on a nearby dumbell.
Marco was on his ass, breathing hard, still holding his cock. It was still twitching, and a final, surprisingly powerful, squirt emerged and painted a last line of semen on the girls' leg. It landed right on her quad, and she automatically dropped one hand to wipe it away. Unconsciously, she brought that hand to her full lips and licked, even as she continued looking at me with wide eyes.