by T. S. Hill
“Cowboy, you want to see Sal’s Brazilian wax style?”, Lori called out to me.
“Nice blonde diamond, Sal!”, I called out over my shoulder as I marched, with my eyes on the doorway. I could hear Sasha and Sal giggling. “I’m taking Little Poss up the road to call Al again. I’ve got to get our cargo limits better defined. Be back in a few!”, I called back at them.
There were several comments directed back at me from the room, but they didn’t register. My mind was reeling from the unexpected sight of Sal like that, totally nude, full frontal, standing in spike heels, chest out, legs spread. Her skin was porcelain white, like Sasha’s; her breasts high, large, and firm like Rosita’s; and her nipples and areola, pink, like Lori’s.
The remainder of her body shape was uniquely her own, with shapely legs and hips, a sharp curve to her waist and a beautiful upper torso. As always, her face was angelic, with, or without, makeup. This morning, I couldn’t tell if she wore makeup or not. With her noticeable height, generated by her long legs, she was a striking woman, who’s presence could not be ignored. This was all an image that I simply had to shake out of my head, but only because of Aug.
Sal’s personality really was changing since she began talking with the girls. I really hoped that she wasn’t leaving Aug on a different page behind her. He was as crazy about Sal, as she was about him, and I didn’t want anything to pull them apart. I knew from a life time of friendship, how stubborn, and hard headed, he could be, but at this point, all I could do was hope for the best.
Rambling around down near the highway, I found the restaurant that the women had found a few days earlier. At eight thirty in the morning, Carivou’s parking lot was, of course, empty, and so I made the call to Al from there. From what Al told me about the cargo weight capacity, of the chopper that he was sending, I could pack pretty much what I wanted, up to a compact car. His regular, plush, executive chopper was in the shop for service. The loner he had was more of a work horse style chopper. Instead of riding the skies in luxury, we would be sitting in the equivalent of straight backed chairs with seat belts, and the noise factor would be anything but executive class.
Al actually apologized for our having to ride on this replacement machine, and promised that his regular chopper should be back in service by the time we returned to New Orleans. I told him that whatever ride he gave me, was appreciated, because it was a ride that I didn’t have otherwise, and needed badly.
At this point, we were able to nail down an arrival time, and he insisted that my associates and I have dinner with him at his home that night. I made a mental note to let the girls know, so that they could dress for the occasion. I had learned long ago, that women demand to know what’s just around the corner, so that they can dress for the occasion, whether it’s a formal dinner, or a tractor pull. The consequences of not keeping them informed, are not pleasant.
As soon as I was off of the phone with Al, I called Rosita. Thankfully, she answered, and was glad it was me. It seems that she was concerned also about how much to pack. After I told her to pack whatever she wanted for a week or maybe a little longer stay, she was happy. She had wrapped up her visit, and business, with Mrs. Donovan’s family, and planned to be at my house sometime before noon.
I asked her if she had ever fired a gun of any type, and she told me what I suspected, that she hadn’t. She thought it a strange question for me to ask, but then Rosita had never been privileged to the full details of what went down in the course of some of my assignments. I told her to never mind, just get packed and get her sweet, beautiful ass over to the tree house ASAP. I also filled her in as to our schedule and dinner date with Al at his mansion, and, told her to dress casually for the crude chopper ride, because she would be able to change for dinner.
When I walked back into the kitchen at the treehouse, all of the packages and women’s wear were gone, and it was quiet. I found Lori and Sasha, in the den/new office, packing their suitcases. They had a suitcase and a travel bag packed for me, laid out open in the bedroom, for my inspection.
Everything they had packed for me, looked in order, so I went back into where they were packing and told them what Al had said about cargo weight and space on the chopper. They each immediately pulled another suitcase out of the storage room, and started filling it. I told them also that we should be taking off from Toby’s field at four thirty and landing in Al’s helipad somewhere behind his house, around six thirty. Dinner with Al in his mansion would be at seven thirty.
As with Rosita, I told them to dress casually comfortable for the chopper ride, as it wouldn’t be the upscale ride we had anticipated, and that they could freshen up and change when we unpacked in Al’s guest house. Once I had let them know that I also had informed Rosita and she would be over shortly, they were all chatty to each other, excited about the trip and dinner at Al’s.
I went into the old office, to pick out an additional long gun to case up. Quickly looking over my choices, I stepped back to the doorway and addressed Lori.
“Sweetheart, I’m packing long guns for good measure. Rosita has never fired a gun of any kind before. So, I’m packing a little pump twenty gauge for her just in case. I’ve packed two AR’s so far. I prefer the AR mainly for the handling and mag capacity. Sash, did some time at the range on one and is pretty good with it. My question to you, is do you want me to pack you an AR and familiarize you with it or would you prefer something like a thirty aught six semi? I know that you’re accustomed to hunting rifles.”
“Pack the AR, Cowboy. That way, one size fits all on the ammo. How many AR’s do you have?”
“Six.”, I called back.
“Six! Holy shit!”, Sasha called out.
“You know Cowboy, if Rosita gets here in time and we can go out to your target range for like thirty minutes or so. The five-five-six has such a light recoil, maybe just pack those for all of us. That way, any of us can grab any rifle and be immediately operational.”
“Sash, I tell you that girl has a business head on her!”, I said grinning at Lori.
“She’s got a fucking fine head!”, Sasha called back at me.”
“That she does, Sash!”, I replied. Four AR’s it is. And a shit load of ammo!” After stacking the cased rifles in the den, I loaded up a full range bag of five-five-sixes, nine mils, and forty fives, and set it beside the stack of rifles.
“Damn! Whose fucking army are we fighting?”, Sasha asked.
“The SOB’s!”, Lori and I said together. Sasha’s eyes got big and she looked back and forth between Lori and me, with a sober look on her face.
“I’ve known since Lafayette, and the target range with Stan, that this wasn’t all fun and games.” She said. “I guess I just wasn’t facing the fact that one of those incidents could happen again, and maybe on a larger scale. I’m okay. I just had a moment there.”
“That’s okay, Sash.”, I told her. “I don’t want anyone going into this blindly. We stand to make a lot of money, but this is also an extremely high-risk situation. Even if we cover all of our bases, and play everything safe, there are no guarantees. Our lives could be on the line. If you don’t want to go, you can work from here, and no one will think any less of you. Honest. The same goes for Lori, and when Rosita gets here, we carry her to the range and explain the dangers before we even think about loading her into that chopper.”
“Babe I’m in.”, Sasha said with determination in her eyes. “I told you where I stand when we were at the target range. I hope that you honestly now know where I stand on anything that matters.” I looked at Lori.
“How many shoot outs have we been through together now, Cowboy, plus barn burnings, and gun to the head hold ups?”
“Um, several?”, I responded.
“Is my suitcase packed?”, she asked.
“Well one of them is, but, uh, the other one, is sorta…”
“Cowboy! If you didn’t spank back worse than you get, I’d whop your right now!” I laughed and swatted her on the ass as I
passed by. She yelped playfully and winked at Sasha.
“I’m loading the evidence boxes into the truck.”, I said to both of them. Bring the suitcases into the kitchen when you have them closed up and ready, and I’ll take them down too. When Rosita gets here, we can have the left-overs from last night for lunch, then clean out the fridge.” Sasha and Lori looked at each other and both giggled. I had no clue as to what was up between them, and little did I know that it also involved Rosita.
I had just finished placing the last of the evidence boxes into the bed of Little Poss, when Lori and Sasha started down the steps with a suit case in each hand. They would take one step, and then drag the suitcases forward a step, then take another step. At that rate, it would have been dark by the time they made it to the bottom. Still I would give them an A for effort, and being real team players.
I met Lori about a third of the way down and took hers to the truck, and then returned to meet Sasha at near the half way point and relieved her. By the time I returned to the steps, they were both coming down with a rifle case in each hand. I let them pass and then went back up for the ammo bag and my suitcase, and travel bag.
When I returned, Rosita was pulling into the drive, honking her horn and waving. Her enthusiasm for life, and everything in it, was totally contagious. I felt a little strange knowing that she had no clue what we were about to introduce her to, and ask her to choose, between. There was the sane, methodical, incrementally forward moving, life she had established, and my insane, violent, volatile, and yet enriched, life, that could end any day, with a well placed bullet carrying my name, or hers, on it. I wanted her to choose my life, and I wanted her to choose hers. I could be thrilled, or overcome with sorrow, at either choice she made.
Solemnly, I loaded her luggage, and a big box of Spanish lace items, into the bed of Little Poss, and sent Sasha back upstairs to get one of the two remaining AR’s and several boxes of ammo. Lori and Rosita chattered on and on about the trip, and what Lori had bought for Sasha and Sal and herself. Surprisingly, with the limited budget that I had given her, she had also bought a fashion present for Rosita.
I was amazed that she stretched the budget that far, and also pleased that she thought so much of Sasha and Rosita to be as lavish on them as she had. From what I overheard, with them speaking half of the time in Spanish, Sal also had kicked in for gifts for Rosita, and Sasha, also practically cramming one down Lori’s throat. She evidently was supremely grateful for all of the advice and guidance that each of them had given her. From her behavior this morning evidently, she was fully embracing, and acting on it.
When Sasha returned with the AR and ammo, we all went to the range. I let Sasha zero the target with a few rounds to show what one time at the range could do and how easy the AR was to handle. Then, after showing Lori and Rosita the safety, chambering with the charging handle, and the forward assist, the magazine release, how the flip up sight works, and the red dot, I handed them the rifle with a mag full of tracer rounds. Lori took the first turn.
“Woah! That is fucking awesome!”, Lori said after directing the tracer rounds from way off target to the bulls eye. Next Rosita tried it.
“This is not as hard as learning the fahking microwave buttons, for that piece of sheet that you bought last year!”, she shouted at me, with fire in her eyes.
“So, if you had to fire this at a bad guy that was trying to kill you, or one of us, could you do that Rosita?”, I asked her.
She answered me by returning to the target, and emptying the remainder of the thirty round magazine into, and around, the bulls eye, essentially completely cutting out the center of the target.
“I think of, as you say, the S, O, B, that raped and cut the throat of my Mariana. Then it is easy!”
“Lori, tell her about Canadian Texas.”, I said. Lori told the whole story, and then I added the part that Lori hadn’t known about; the dark haired, big titted girl, at the drive through window, getting blown away.
“Lori tell her about the barn escape.”, I insisted. Lori gave her the short version of that.
“Tell her about the breakfast hold up.”, I snapped. Lori reluctantly related those events.
“Tell her about the parking basement.”, I stated staunchly.
“Cowboy do we have to keep revisiting these things?”, Lori whined back at me.
“We blew away a little fat man in the elevator that fired almost point blank at us, and missed.”, I jumped in. “Both of us nailed his ass, and before that, his partner fired on me, and I shot him cold dead in the hotel hallway! Sash, tell us what happened at the RealMart in Lafayette.” Sasha with steel cold nerves related the blow by blow of the parking lot incident.
“Oh sheet, Tagg! You are the cowboy hero of Lafayette? Holy sheet!”, Rosita exclaimed.
“No! Fuck that shit, Rosita!”, I practically yelled at her. She looked at me sheepishly. “We are trying to put away some really bad people, and they would like to kill us. If we put them away, we can get pretty rich in the process. It’s high risk, we can, and likely might, get shot at, or even worse, killed. I don’t want you, or Lori, or Sasha to go to Texas without knowing the risks. You can stay here, and do work, and I, we, all still love you.”
“So, you want to know what Rosita theenks?” And with that, she snatched a magazine out of Lori’s hand almost angrily, and turned toward the already shot out target. She expertly dropped the empty magazine, and popped the full one in place, hitting the bolt release. Then she proceeded to empty the mag into the center of the target. When she finished she handed the AR to Lori who already had a mag in hand ready. She completed the same process, only in about half of Rosita’s time. Next, Sasha stepped up with a magazine at the ready, and dumped the AR into the target, at a respectable pace.
Sasha turned to me, and holding out the AR, said, “You have our answers, what’s yours?” I took the AR from her and picked up a fresh target, walking it to the back stop, and pinned it up. When I returned to the firing line, I popped in a mag of non-tracer rounds, and set what might have been a new timed record, at eating out a bull’s eye with a semiautomatic five five six.
Lori started walking back toward the treehouse and said, “That’s four commitments to this assignment confirmed. Now, let’s go acknowledge the other fourth commitment.” That didn’t make sense to me, but it seemed to register with Sasha and Rosita, so I fell in and we walked silently back to the tree house.
Once we all had come through the stairway door and into the kitchen, Lori asked me, “Cowboy can you start getting out the left-overs while we go change, and then we’ll come back and help get everything set up and warmed up?”
“Sure Sweetheart!”, I answered.
“I’ll put the rifle back in the study too.”, she said. “Do we need to clean it?”
“Normally, yes.”, I answered. But it’s stainless, and today we’re in a hurry. Just put a sticky note on it saying “clean me!”, and todays date.” With that, she and the other two disappeared through the hallway door. Meanwhile, I busied myself unloading the fridge and setting the table. About the time that I had all of the food set on the table and the plates and silverware set out, I heard the clomp of spike heeled semi-plat shoes, as the women marching together, came back through the hallway toward the kitchen.
I was just placing a covered bowl of butter beans in the microwave when I looked up to see my Sweetheart, Lori, strut into the kitchen, in the full, red, bedtime outfit that I had bought her in Crocket Texas. Red, semi-plat, spike heeled shoes; red sheer hose, with lace tops; red garter belt; no panties; and a red, totally sheer, chemise, that ended just about mid-level of her, beautifully full Brazilian waxed pussy, decorated her exquisite body. On top of her head, she had a matching, lacy red, hair piece. My eyes locked on to her, as she took her place, and stood, at the foot of the table, as the mistress of the house.
Next, came our Princess, Rosita, with the exact same, red, bedtime outfit on, also without panties. Her dark landing strip above her pussy
, peeped beneath the hem of her scarlet chemise. I thought that Lori must have bought this as a gift for her today. As, she took the chair to the left of me where Sal had sat the night before, I also took a moment to admire her total striking beauty.
Finally, our pretty little Sugar Tits, Sasha, appeared in the doorway wearing the identical red lingerie, hose and shoes, with the chemise cut just as the other two, right at her marvelous pussy, so that I could easily admire the heart shaped pub patch surrounding it. She then moved around the table with her fabulous tits swaying beneath the sheer fabric of the chemise, and took her place in the chair to the right of me. With the air-conditioning on, all three of the women’s sumptuous nipples were erect, and pressing forward against the sheer red fabric of the chemises. Sasha’s large, dark brown, nipples were particularly stunning in this setting.
“I’m supposed to sit down, and eat a meal, in the midst of this?”, I asked nobody in particular.
“You’re supposed to simply sit down, shut up, and let the three of us serve you.”, Lori said to me in a dominate tone. I sat down, and the women immediately sprang into action around the kitchen, taking coverings off of the food, starting the microwave to heat the lima beans that I had moments ago been focused on, and generally preparing the table, left-overs, and glasses of sweet, iced tea.
When it was all ready, and properly reheated, they began moving around the table and placing servings of the different dishes into the plates. As each of them would pass by me, they paused to bend over carefully to display their marvelous tits through the sheer fabric of their chemises. As they served the plates on the sides of the table, they would turn their asses toward me and jut them out as they bent forward to place the food items on the plates. Each time that one of them placed something on my plate, I also got a kiss on the cheek, or titties pressed against the sides of my head as they bent over behind me.
