by Evelyn Glass
Cole's hands on her thighs turned into to grips of steel. His thick, hard fingers dug into her flesh as she rocked and rolled her ass on his thighs, assaulting his cock with perverse madness. Her hair flew wildly around them as she tossed her head erratically, wildly desperate to regain some form of control before her orgasm surfaced. She no longer had any connected thoughts. All of her knowledge was useless now. Her throat growled, joining the growls of Cole’s desperate efforts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Then, cutting through all the layers of desire, plans and estimates of arousal levels, making all of her littered thoughts trivial pursuits, she felt her blooming orgasm rise with stunning velocity. Her eyes went wide and her body faltered as deep shudders interrupted her rhythms. The rush was as encompassing as it was surprising.
She didn't remember orgasms rushing up like this before. But then, evidently, she never had one before if that’s what this was. The power and breath of it was far too much. Orgasms were sweet blisses, like she brought herself to in the shower, or in the bath. She liked them.
Her climax hit and cascaded through her body as an avalanche of passion, setting off every zone and point of stimulation available. She pitched back and then her hands pulled at the sides of her head as the resulting explosion of stimulation churned and powered her climax up, beyond her scope of imagination. Her last voluntary thought glimmered with the hope of channeling that wild storm, which, as an after-thought, was ludicrous.
The voltaic throes she was convulsed by, with such ravage abandon, felt dangerous. She was screaming desperate pleas from deep in her lungs. Her body knotted and curled from violent contractions. She pitched forward and pounded her forehead into Cole’s chest, and then was wildly thrown up and back by her churning abs. There, her spine arched so greatly, she could nearly see the wall behind them.
She screamed and writhed, bucking with no rhythm at all.
Then Cole mercilessly gripped her hips and began to fuck his cock up into her, driving her mind straight through the walls of reality. His power pounded inside of her, heedless of the thrashing storm throttling her nervous system -- and he was so goddamn strong. She quit rolling hips and fought against any impulse to move at all.
She tried to beg him to stop. Falling forward again, her mouth gaping as her head shook wildly from side to side, she clawed and pulled at his arms, but none of her efforts seemed to be noticed since he continued to thrash into her.
Nicole’s awareness danced on the storms he churned beneath her, as a new orgasm rose.
“No, no, no, no,” were the only words coming from her throat when, with no warning at all, the orgasm that was merely a thought a moment ago, curled and hurtled her once more with violent throes and voltaic waves.
Cole powered his body up, rising on the flexing power of his abs. He locked eyes with her and then the world was a swirl and blur of spinning, falling motion. Cole had lifted her slightly, swung her spinning to the left and followed her down to the mattress with a neck-snapping swoop of motion. He came to rest on top of her and between her thighs. His hot, amazingly hard cock was still filling her quaking pussy. She landed on the mattress with her arms going wide and her eyes searching the spinning room for reasons and options. Then she put it all together and was forming a smile when Cole cupped the cheeks of her ass in the palms of his hands, lifted her, and began to fuck her.
All hell broke loose inside her body. Reflexively, and against her will, her hips rose to meet his thrusts while a concerted performance of her abs and pelvic muscles strove to milk and wrest his cock as it pleasured her depths. She wasn't sure if the swelling waves of electric fire churning in her were actually orgasms or not. There seemed to be no end and no escaping the tides, which occasionally sucked her down with dismaying energy to roll her in fierce and ravaging currents.
She was clawing at Cole's arms, purely on the whim of reflex, with no decision made to do so and no goal. Her legs were trembling, under the same instinctive whim, which was probably a blind sense of self-preservation. Her throat was always open and the untamed howls and wails coming from her had no similarity to what she normally called her “sex music.”
The power of Cole's climax erupted inside and around her, manifesting as a savage series of unbelievable thrusts that drove into her with twisting convulsions from his hips and abs. It was chaos incarnate.
She was depleted and had been for some time. She was already rag-dolled when this physical eruption of anarchy powered his seed inside of her pussy. Her state of depletion, however, made no difference to the surging storm of orgasmic energies ravaging her body. Between Cole's pleasuring and throes of her own personal storm, she felt decimated by the time Cole's body came to rest on top of her. When he rolled off her, she tried to follow. It was her custom to sooth the man after his release, to bring emotional value to the afterglow and ease his receding agonies. She whimpered, but couldn't move. Her body simply told her, no. And that was the end of the conversation -- custom be damned.
Cole's arm came up and then rested it across his eyes, as if to shield them from the light of the room. His chest heaved for breath. Eventually, long before her own recovery, he said, "Damn woman. What the fuck? I can't believe what you did to me."
She heard the words, but failed to respond or even comprehend for several seconds.
"I'll get us some beers," he told her and weakly rolled off the edge of the bed, found his feet, and strode out of the door drunkenly.
She watched him go and enjoyed the simple pleasure of watching his cute ass working those long legs while wonder blossomed inside her helpless body. What I did to him? Is he kidding? Holy fuck!
As a call girl, she decided, she would have paid Cole.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gabriel Morelli had a number of skills that were useful and profitable in his line of business, that being the flesh trade. One was an intelligent ruthlessness that made even men who were far stronger and more powerful think twice about coming at him with threats. He also had a keen understanding of power levels and underground politics in Chicago. He knew who to fuck with and who to get someone else to fuck with.
His stable of girls wasn't the largest, but he had acquired, through great personal effort and expenditure, a collection of call girls who were as top of the line as they come. He didn't tell them that, of course. That would be stupid and he was far from stupid.
Within his collection of call girls, one was, by far, the best. There was no doubt about this -- it was a matter of pure accounting. She pulled down the largest fees and brought her men to a loyalty so great, clients would actually get into bidding wars to have her on particular nights, such as New Years or the 4th of July, and the most popular and profitable of all, Halloween.
This star's name was Nicole Bower. This was actually her real name, because she came to him so innocent in the ways of prostitution, she didn't know enough to give a working name. Nicole not only made profits on her own, she increased the profitability of his other call girls, by willingly sharing what she did and her explaining the practical application of her philosophy on sex with powerful men. All Gabriel had to do was to have the other girls go visit Nicole a few days a month and profits increased, but no one ever surpassed Nicole on the accounting ledger.
Then, a week ago yesterday, she packed up a few things from her apartment and left him. No note, no phone call, not even a goddamn fucking email! The security cameras showed three men helping her, who no one so far recognized. They loaded her things down into a truck with a single trip. The truck had no license plate and no clear identifiable marks. The whole process took less than fifteen minutes. No one even knew she was gone until her driver called, asking if something had happened to her.
Antonio, Nicole's manager and a ruthless enforcer, sat peacefully on the other side of the desk from Gabriel. He always sat peacefully. Gabriel came to realize that Antonio did this because of a natural quirk of personality; also because Antonio always had a plan in his head for killing
everyone in the room. Right now, his plan included Gabriel. So despite Gabriel's current fury, which could easily be focused on Antonio, the bulky Italian remained undisturbed and peaceful.
"Have you found her, Antonio?"
"No," he reported, using his normal soft, conversational tone. "No further leads are reportable at the moment, though we continue to search and to sift through new areas of investigation."
"She has left the city?"
"Doubtful. Highly doubtful. Our contacts in the PD have given us quality information suggesting that she has not left on any plane, train, or bus from Chicago. She has no car and, so far, no new car has been registered in her name. I have my doubts that she even knows how to drive."
"There are ways around registration," Gabriel pointed out.
"True, but none she would be aware of. The only TV she ever watched was financial news stories. She is as naïve about the world as she is experienced with men of power and the act of sex."
"No one has her in their stable? No one took her?"
"No. That is certain. If that were so, you would have ears already on your desk. Also, her list of clients appears to have no idea that she has gone. We have been putting them off for now by suggesting she is on a well-earned holiday in Europe and that we will inform them of her return."
"All of them have been accounted for?"
"One, Maximilian Rozzi, is currently in San Diego. He is probably unaware, but also not stolen from us. He will call on his return and we will place him with the most likely girl to fulfill his needs, just like the others."
Gabriel spun slowly in his chair. Antonio was infuriating, especially with his cultured, peaceful attitude toward everything, but he was valuable and skilled in his duties. "Where is she, Antonio?" Gabriel sighed, not really expecting an answer.
"In Chicago," he answered with a simple assuredness that was very upsetting to Gabriel.
"From where I am sitting right now, how far away is she?" Gabriel challenged.
"I would have to guess, but my guess is no more than ten miles."
"So close?"
"She is not running, Gabriel; she is quitting," Antonio explained calmly. "She is not even hiding. She has a new apartment, which she is currently decorating. She has a new job starting, but not as a call girl. I suspect something along the lines of a highly paid executive assistant somewhere downtown. She is skilled on the computer, knows finance, how to invest stocks with some skill, and is competent in understanding activities such as mergers, takeovers, and bankruptcy. It is, of course, possible that she is providing her new boss with sexual services, but I doubt it. She is done with that part of her life."
"She's not done!" Gabriel exploded. "She's mine!"
"Of course, but in her mind, this is not the case," Antonio clarified with peaceful assurance, as if Gabriel's wrath was merely a sweet summer breeze finding its way into the window.
Gabriel glared at him, "Which is why you believe she hasn't left the country or even the extended neighborhood."
"It's a nice neighborhood," Antonio pointed out. "I would like to point out, however, that her books are clean. She has no reason to come back and we have no grounds to hold her -- not even within underworld guidelines."
Gabriel's fury rose to such a level that even Antonio showed a waiver of doubt in his eyes as Gabriel said, very calmly, "She is mine. There is no leaving. She comes back, intact, and I will re-train her so that she understands this. That is all the discussion on this matter I will allow. Is that clear?"
"Of course, Gabriel," Antonio said without a noticeable amount of concern, though it was likely he reviewed his current plan of genocide.
"Find her, Antonio. Find her and bring her to me," he told his enforcer.
Then his phone rang and when he checked the caller on the display, it was unknown. He drummed his fingers, but generally speaking, in his line of work, if someone had his number and called it, it was worth answering the call. So he hit speakerphone. "Hello?" Gabriel asked.
"Gabriel?"
"Speaking," he said and it almost clicked before she spoke again.
"This is Nicole, Gabriel."
"Where are you?"
"That's not what I'm calling about. I want to make sure you understand that I'm gone. That I'm done. I have a new life and I intend to leave the city soon. Even if you find me, I won't come back. I'll never perform the show again. I'm done. I didn't take anything and I owe you nothing. Goodbye, Gabriel."
Then the connection broke.
Gabriel stared at the phone unable to give names to the emotional turmoil rising inside of him. There were so many, though most could be categorized under the heading of murderous.
Antonio calmly rose and picked Gabriel's phone up from the desk. He checked the caller ID and wrote down the reported number for the last caller onto his note pad. Then he set the phone back down. "I'll have her back on her schedule in one hour, ready to meet a client in three," Antonio said with peaceful assurance. "Is there anything else you require right now?"
Gabriel looked at him, then to his phone, and then back to Antonio. The white noise of murderous rage began to subside, "No, that will be all."
"Then after this matter is handled, I will be off for my regular three days. Davis will be your contact. He's a good man."
Gabriel nodded. Davis was a good man. "He might do well as a bodyguard for Nicole on her return, don’t you think? She is obviously so naïve; she is a danger to herself. I want to ensure nothing happens to her, Antonio. She is very profitable and must be able to work."
"Of course and I'll let Davis know of his… reassignment."
"Be sure to tell him that it is temporary and that he will be replaced and returned to his normal duties as soon as we can find someone suitable. Also assure him that his pay remains the same with normal commission considerations. I don't want him thinking he just got demoted."
"You are very generous," Antonio suggested.
"Yes,” he mused, examining this unprofitable corruption of his personality, “it appears that I am."
"I'll also get a new driver," Antonio reported as he walked for the door.
"The last one was very good from all reports. Perhaps you can locate him again."
"He has already moved onto another situation. He's into drug running now, I believe."
"That's a shame. I should give some thought to driver incentives for when we come across men of his caliber. Nicole told me his skills actually were the main reason she was able to salvage a high paying new client."
"I'm aware of the story, yes. It was admirably handled. Even the client was impressed," Antonio agreed.
"Goodnight, Antonio."
"Goodnight."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cole pulled his bike into his drive, clicking the garage door opener attached to his handlebars and watched blankly as the door began to ascend. The Lowrider purred, sounding good. He would take it in for a tune tomorrow anyway. He just completed a run down to St. Louis, out to Kansas City, then up to Des Moines. This completed the schedule, so back to Chicago he rode. To date, that was the longest planned ride of his experience and he loved the journey, but he was glad to be home. He missed Nicole more than he could stand and spent an embarrassing amount of time talking to her on the cellphone.
Nicole came bouncing out of the house, running up to meet him with a smile on her lips and sex in her hungry eyes. She squeaked with glee and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him across his face and then narrowing down to his lips.
"Holy shit I missed you, baby!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "I'm so glad you are back. Are you back? Do you have to go anywhere else tonight?"
"All done. Let me get the bike into the garage and check her over. Then I'll come inside."
She nodded happily, "I'll get dinner started and some beers out."
"Make mine a Coke. I need the caffeine," he requested.
"I visited with Angie today and she gave me a bit of crystal. Want some? Wake you up?" she asked
. While she was terrified of heroin, Nicole knew how to manage her crystal intake. Hell, they gave this shit to kids for ADD. All she had to do was be careful with the amount and to keep herself properly hydrated.
"It will wake me up and put my dick in the dirt. Can't maintain erections on that stuff, but I'll give you good pillow talk," he offered.
"Never mind. I don't know anything about crystal. Haven't seen any for years in fact. Not even sure what it is, now that I think about it. So, a Coke? Cause I am very horny, lover. I have no idea what the fuck you did to me, but for a gal who use to think she thought about sex all the time, I'm seriously thinking about sex all the time," she pouted. "Only now it is all about how I'm not getting any because my lover is in fucking St. Louis."
