My father once advised me things are not always what they appear to be. I have always remembered his wisdom and teaching.
My wife, Annabella, and I decided to enjoy a small respite from our usual hectic schedule. While finishing a small job in Las Vegas, we chose the Bellagio for a week-end rest. That evening, we attended a Celine Dion concert and afterwards, a late supper. Before retiring, we thought cocktails and midnight dancing would be a perfect finish to an ideal evening.
Finding an interesting little club off the strip, we chose the farthest booth amiably secluded and dark. After our first drinks, Annabella gazed into my eyes and whispered, "Shall we?" I knew she wanted to dance, so, I slid from the booth and held my hand out. Delicately, she took my hand and gracefully slipped from the table. The dance was a slow romantic bit and she melted into my arms as we graced the floor. I gently ran my fingers across her cheek before I leaned in and kissed her soft lips, her tongue beckoning entrance. While we embraced, my other hand caressed the bare small of her back, my fingers tantalizingly trespassing within the smooth silk of her low cut gown.
"Ahhh, Hunter...that feels so nice." she cooed stroking the side of my neck.
From the corner of my eye, I spied a large man the color of dark chocolate enter the club and stand by the entrance, his eyes on us...or should I say, my wife. I smiled and whispered in her ear, "You have an admirer."
Her eyes locked onto mine, her slow grin reminding me of an eager feline staring at a reluctant meal. "Mmmm, the rather dark gentleman standing by the door?"
"Yesss, I hissed." I knew she would not have missed him. She was as alert as I. "I'll wager should I leave you for a time he will introduce himself."
"Hunter, are you sure you want to do this? He does look rather formidable."
"Up to you, my sweet. I'm game if you are." Annabella smiled, her beautiful white teeth gleaming as she held me tight. "Of course I'm game."
As the music faded, I released her and stepped back. Holding her hand, I nodded and turned toward the entrance. As I stood by the door, I glanced at her watching as she slid back into the booth. Her sleek blond hair framed her delicate face as the hem of her shimmering black silk gossamer gown pulled upward allowing anyone a view of her finely honed thighs. I stepped outside and strolled to the parking lot. I heard the door open and close but didn't turn to see who it was. I already knew. I disappeared around the corner of the nightclub and ducked behind a large trash bin. Hidden in shadow, I used the concealment to peek around the dumpster. Yes, there he was...looking for me. Once satisfied I must have left he vanished, undoubtedly back into the club.
As the good Sherlock Holmes would state, "The games afoot," I thought and allowed twenty minutes to pass before moving to the car. Where I parked the Jag, I had an excellent view of the entrance to the club. Now, I wait.
Groups of night crawlers would enter or leave the club, some with a companion but more often alone.
I waited in the car for close to an hour before they exited the club. The large black gentleman had his arm circled around Annabella's small waist. Under the club exterior lights, I was able to gain a better look at the man. No doubt, he was the alpha dog. He exuded confidence and a manner that announced to others he was not to be taken lightly. The grip he had on my Annabella confirmed she was his to keep.
As he stood there with my wife, a black Escalade drove up, the valet stopping in front of them. The valet quickly got out of the large car and ran around to open the passenger door for Annabella. Her new companion lifted her onto the seat, his hand beneath her dress gripping her derrière. Once settled inside the car, he belted her in taking a few seconds to reach inside of her dress and caress her right breast. Annabella appeared to be either drunk or drugged, either way she did not seem to be aware of what he was doing. I saw the large black man hand the valet a wad of bills, the valet nodding smiled his approval.
By this time, I had the Jag ready to follow the Escalade and discreetly trailed the black Cadillac SUV through the less savory part of Vegas. We had traveled no more than ten minutes before he pulled into a long drive that led to an old house hidden behind large shrubbery. The SUV disappeared from my view but I knew where he had gone. I shut off the headlights and coasted onto the drive. I left the car and hiked through the foliage remaining hidden as I searched the grounds. Shortly, I entered the rear patio and could see a light shining from a large open window.
Annabella was standing before her new found admirer only he wasn't alone, two other men stood behind her. One was a skinny black kid, maybe about seventeen or eighteen. The other was a disgustingly obese black man, wearing dirty white tank-top and black shorts. It was the fat one holding my wife from behind, his hands inside her dress cupping her breasts. The skinny kid was sliding the spaghetti straps of her gown over her shoulders and down her arms. Once he had the material past her elbows the dress fell away revealing her matching black Victoria Secrets.
"Shit...Cheese, you got a good one this time!" The fat fucker was actually drooling from his excitement over my wife's body. His fingers pinched her taut nipples as he squeezed her breasts. I heard her groan as he dug his nails into her flesh.
"Fuckin A," said the skinny little punk now pulling her black silk panties over her thighs and nylons.
"Leave her stockings on!" growled the one called Cheese. "Fuckin sexy bitch!"
Soon, with the exception of her nylon stockings, she was standing in the nude surrounded by these low-lives. Cheese undid his belt and pants, pushing the garment down. Not wearing underwear, his cock sprang up in all its glory...all thick nine inches of black meat. He reached out and pulled her to him, his hard cock sliding upward against her belly, a thin trace of pre-cum trailing upward on her smooth skin. The fingers of his left hand slid down the side of her waist over the luscious curvature of her hip to disappear within her down covered mons.
"Fuck me, she's like a fuckin swamp down there," he bellowed.
Grasping her waist with both his hands, he lifted her and pulled her tight against him, her legs hanging like a rag doll. He wrapped an arm around her and reached down with his other hand holding his cock so it could devour some choice white meat. He allowed her to slide down, sheathing himself within her. A moan escaped her lips as he impaled my beautiful Annabella.
"Fuck, this bitch is sweet!" he roared as she hung from his cock, her feet nearly a foot off the floor. He pushed her shoulders away, greedily sucking her right nipple into his mouth. I watched as he suckled at that superb teat, chewing on the dark pink bud. By now, Annabella was quivering from his ruthless assault.
"Hey Cheese, when we get her?" whined the fat piece of shit.
"When I'm fuckin done, Train and not before. Besides...I just might make her my permanent bitch. I'm liking this fine white meat."
"Shit, I know you Cheese...we ain't gonna get shit from this bitch," the skinny shit wailed.
"Look at the bitch now, dog! She's lovin it...dog...look!"
Annabella was indeed in the rhythm, her legs now wrapped around the big man's hips, her hands holding onto his shoulders.
"Oh yes, God yes...fuck me...fuck me...do it!" she screamed.
Her words rambled, her head thrown back; her eyes shut tight as her mouth gaped in a silent scream. She was slamming down as hard as Cheese was pounding her.
His eyes wide, Cheese was astonished at her intensity. "Shit, this bitch is crazy," he cried. Still impaled on his cock, Cheese carried Annabella to a grimy worn sofa. He fell back, Annabella screaming as his steel-hard rod rammed into her.
"Ahhhh....yessss," she hissed. She was close. It was time.
I moved to a side door and found it unlocked. Carefully, I turned the knob and opened the door. Stepping in, I stood inside a kitchen. I could hear Annabella howling from the adjoining room. Standing next to a swinging door, I reached inside my coat, just below my left arm and removed a Beretta 9mm pistol from its holster. From the opposite side of my coat, I slid a black powder-coated silencer from the inside pocket. Carefully, I locked the silencer to the extended business end of the barrel. Checking for the chambered 9mm parabellum, I waited. Any minute now.
A shriek sounded from the room. "Motherfucker, the cunt bit me! Ahhhh! Get her off a me...get this fuckin bitch off a me...now!"
It was time. I swung open the door, the pistol held low. Fat boy was trying to rip Annabella from poor Cheese, his face a bloodied mess. The skinny shit turned at the movement his eyes wide when he saw me, when he saw the gun. Before he could take another breath, a quiet whisper announced the small red dot appearing in the middle of his forehead. Skinny shit's head, I never did hear his name, slammed backward, his scrawny body following. Neither Cheese nor fat boy knew Skinny was out of the game.
I turned toward the fracas and saw fat boy, Train, finally get a hold on my wife and pull her from Cheese, by now hollering, "I'm gonna kill that fuckin whore...she's fuckin dead!"
Train had a grip on Annabella, holding her away from him much like one would with a enraged spitting cat. Cheese bolted from the sofa, a chunk of meat missing from his left cheek, blood flooding his chin, along his neck and onto his chest. In his fury, he didn't see me. But Train, poor dear fat boy did see me.
"Cunt, you gonna die....," Cheese stopped mid sentence. Train stared past Cheese, his arms falling away from my wife. Annabella glared at Cheese, blood smeared over her lips as she smiled. Cheese gawked as a minute trickle of scarlet oozed from a tiny hole in the bridge of Train's nose, Train falling away from my wife.
"What the fuck...?" He slowly turned. His eyes fell on me. "Who the fuck are yo...?"
