by Henry Morgan
Title Page
MIAMI BOUND
By Henry Morgan
Publisher Information
Miami Bound first published in 2002 by
Chimera Books Ltd
www.chimerabooks.co.uk
Digital Edition Converted and Published
By Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © Henry Morgan
The right of Henry Morgan to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This eBook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this eBook are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex
Chimera - a creation of the imagination, a wild fantasy
Introduction
David picked up the pace, pushing firmly into her, relishing the feel of his prick cushioned by her wet feminine luxury.
‘Big bad Ralph is a naughty man,’ she added breathlessly. ‘He ties me up and pushes things into me - all sorts of things. I’m a bad girl... you should spank me.’
Without any further tempting required, he smacked her bottom so hard it sent searing bolts of sensation surging through her delicate frame. She cried out as if unable to believe how much it hurt, and he spanked her again, and again, remembering how it felt to have his palm stinging as it made contact with hot flesh.
Chapter 1
There is an American man in Wales, Alaska, who is a doppelganger for Grizzly Adams and, at the moment, he was beside David Harper pulling on the chewed remnants of a fat cigar. ‘They’re good,’ he said from under his tan leather hat, ‘and I’ve never seen such whopper tits on no Eskimo.’
‘They’re Lapps,’ David corrected him for the third time in as many minutes.
‘Lapps, Wops, Eskimos, they’re all the same to me,’ the big man retorted, ‘but I sure to God ain’t seen bigger tits than that on no Eskimo.’
Sighing, David gave up as Grizzly called for a bottle of bourbon.
A tall young woman with blonde hair down to her hips and very large breasts set a bottle of Wild Turkey down on the bar in front of them, and smiled as she filled their shot glasses. Grizzly didn’t pay her, he didn’t have to; it was his bar. Lock, stock and every barrel of beer, he owned it all. And if David felt comfortable enough leaving the two Lapps, Teena and Mishka, here with him, he would own them, too.
Bill - Grizzly’s real name when he wasn’t chopping trees and busting the heads of local drunks - poured them both a second shot. Then he shoved his stubby cigar back in his mouth, picked up the bottle of bourbon and motioned for David to follow him to a table.
‘Tell me that bullshit story of yours again,’ he demanded in his usual blunt fashion once they were seated.
David sipped his drink, and grimaced. Bill knew he didn’t like bourbon, yet he always ordered it for him. It was some sort of perverse ritual they had fallen into.
‘What’s up, bourbon too strong for you?’ Grizzly taunted him. ‘I’ll get you a root beer if you want, but if it’s that brown-and-black limey shit you’re after, you’re out of luck. I sold it all to the Eskimos. They use it to seal their canoes with.’
For all his rough talk, David knew Bill was an all right guy. But in this part of the world, it was wise to let people think you were always ready to scrape your knuckles off their chin if they fooled with you. ‘I’d rather have a vodka,’ he said.
Bill motioned with his hand, mouthed an order to the ever-attentive Trixie from Tuscola, and a bottle of Absolute arrived at their table a moment later. ‘Why do you drink that shit-awful Russky stuff?’ He pulled a disgusted face as he watched his English friend pour himself a shot of the clear liquor. ‘You know they make it out of potato skins, don’t you?’
‘That’s poteen,’ David corrected him mildly, ‘and the Irish make it.’
‘It’s the same fucking thing, a peasant’s drink. Look at this.’ He held up his glass of bourbon and allowed the dim light in the bar to shine through the lovely amber liquid. ‘Says a bit more to you than that piss water, don’t it?’
David swallowed his first shot of vodka, and sighed again, this time with pleasure. He waited a moment for the heat in his throat, and for the memories, to subside, and then poured out another shot straightaway.
Bill whistled a warning. ‘Hey there, I said it was shit, I didn’t say it wouldn’t blow your balls off.’
David smiled, downed his shot as the big Alaskan eyed the two young women they were meeting about, and promptly poured a third.
Bill shook his head. ‘Gets rid of the dreams, huh?’
‘No more dreams,’ David replied firmly. ‘I left them all behind.’
‘When you left that bitch behind... what’s her name?’
‘Sabrina.’
‘Yeah. No wonder you like knocking back the drink. Why was she after you?’
Once again, David told Bill the story of the sex school he had run in England that taught women how to be good wives to their husbands, and of the young Pakistani girl, Sabrina, who was brought to him for training. His friend, Justin, had fallen in love with Sabrina, and the two of them had turned the tables and enslaved him.
‘So, how come you ended up in Russia?’
‘Because, they were taking me there anyway.’
This was the part of the story Bill liked best. ‘Yeah,’ he growled, half excited, half incredulous, ‘they were taking you there to fuck women!’
‘That’s not the point. They treated me like I was a possession, like I was some sort of stud animal.’
‘Yeah, but they were taking you there to fuck women.’ Bill clearly didn’t understand the problem. He picked up the bottle of vodka and refilled David’s shot glass. ‘She must have been one hell of a woman, this Sabrina.’
‘She was a bitch.’
‘Yeah, she was a bitch, but she was obviously one a hell of a woman, too. She must have been a knockout in the sack.’
David smiled, and gave up on the rest of the story. ‘In the sack, over the chair and dangling from the ceiling, but she paid me back, big time. She tried to sell me. She chased me across Russia after I escaped, and almost killed me on that frozen fucking sea. She was a hell of a woman, all right, and she almost dragged us all there with her.’
Bill looked around his club. A group of oil workers in Stetson hats were gathered around the stage along with half-a-dozen Arapahos. They all worked in the oil fields, and they all had money in their pockets they were quickly transferring to the hips of Teena and Mishka as rock music belted out of the jukebox. I’m gonna run to you, he sang as the girls gyrated from one overpaid oil monkey to another, letting each man shove greenbacks into their panties, and cop a feel of their tight young bottom as they ground it in the face of their whiskey-fuelled fantasy.
‘How come you went back and rescued that other guy from the ice?’ Bill asked abruptly. ‘That’s what I can’t figure out.’
‘Because he was a good mate,’ David said, ‘and if you’d seen Sabrina, you’d have done the same.’
‘But how do you know he ain’t gonna double-cross you again now he’s back in England?’
‘Why should he?’
&
nbsp; ‘Because he’s done it before?’
‘He simply mislaid his loyalties in Russia,’ David defended his old friend, Justin. ‘A lot of people did. No, he’ll sell the house in Cornwall and fly out to meet me in Miami, as we agreed.’
‘With the money?’
‘With the money.’
‘So, what are you going to do between now and then, besides make even more money when we’ve closed on these Wops of yours?’
Laughing, David shook his head and raised his glass in the direction of the two dancing girls.
The sisters spotted his gesture, and waved back at him happily.
‘You know what I’m going to do, Bill? I’m going to get me some sun on my back and spend some of my money. I’m gonna get myself the biggest RV I can find and I’m going to see the good old US of A. I’m gonna drink some beer and screw some ass. How’s that?’ he demanded in his best imitation of a thick Yankee drawl.
Grizzly raised his glass in a salute. ‘Sounds fine to me, I just wish I was coming with you.’
‘Well, you can’t. And you know why you can’t? Because you’ve got a bar to run, bills to pay and a shit-load of money to make.’
‘Is that good or bad?’
‘I think it’s both. When the money’s tight and the repo-man knows your first name, you’re going to think about me on a beach somewhere and say to yourself, “that should be me”. But if it’s you out there talking to the birds as you piss in the bushes, you’re going to remember these nights in the bar with everyone buzzing and shouting “hi, Bill”, “hey, Bill”, “what you doing, Bill?” and then you’re going to wish you were right here where you are now.’
Grizzly shook his head. ‘You spent too much time in that goddamned snow, buddy.’
Their conversation was interrupted by several oil workers surging to their feet and calling for the bull.
Bill grinned. ‘The boys want some fun with the girls. If they do all right, then it’s a deal, ten grand.’
‘You said twenty,’ David reminded him.
‘I thought you didn’t care about money.’
David slapped him on the shoulder. ‘I’m learning, my friend. You can’t be in this country for long and not learn the importance of King Green.’
‘Tell you what, we’ll call it fifteen and I’ll wipe your bar slate clean.’
‘That’s no deal,’ David moaned.
Bill took the bottle of vodka from his friend, and held it up for him to look at. ‘You seen your bar tab lately, buddy?’
From her position behind the bar, Trixie saw a few of the oil workers pulling out the bull and motioned to the manager with her hand. He responded with a broad smile, promptly loaded a Blue Oyster Cult tape into the deck, and hit play. Then he helped drag out the safety mats while the girls shimmied their way around the crowd collecting yet more bills, which they hurriedly folded into a secret pocket in their hats as they prepared for the ride. The trim young Lapps stood in front of the bull wearing nothing but G-string panties, rhinestone boots and brave smiles as they raised their hats up high.
‘Now listen hear, you cowpokes and sons of whiskey-swilling bitches,’ the bar manager shouted, ‘I’ve got two girls here who don’t fear the Reaper, little Miss Teena and little Miss Mishka!’ He stepped up between them and pulled hard on their G-strings, which came off in his hands to reveal two perfectly clean-shaven pussies.
There was a great roar, and a dozen or more hats flew up towards the beams of the maple-vaulted ceiling as the men surrounded the bull, and the girls set off on a run around the inside of the circle of bodies, slapping away the hands reaching for them. Each girl must have received twenty to thirty slaps across her bare bottom before Mishka finally turned in, and vaulted onto the bull in one grand leap.
The men went wild, and their cheering escalated to a deafening volume when Teena launched herself at the bull’s head. She gripped its horns, and swung her legs around its neck facing it.
All eyes were fixed on the girls’ breasts as the bull began to move, its speed gradually increasing before it abruptly came to a stop, and reversed direction. A moment later, breasts and arms followed this change of course, and as the speed increased again so did the crowd’s expectation.
Teena’s grip on the bull grew tighter, her hat fell off, and all the while it looked as if the animal’s angry snout was rooting hungrily into her pussy. The men roared with excitement as the girls struggled to stay on, and although their audience had no way of knowing it, they had both drifted back into memories of their childhood riding caribou in the tribe’s games. They hung on for dear life, oblivious to the ribald shouts and leering stares of the men around them. The manager cruelly wound up the power, and Grizzly Bill stepped forward to admire the girls’ abilities. David was not so surprised by it; he knew them well. In fact, he was intimately acquainted with both of them.
At maximum power, both girls stayed on the bull longer than anyone else ever had. Mishka was the first to be thrown off onto the mat, and a moment later Teena was launched like a huge starfish into the crowd. They were immediately pulled to their feet, handed back their hats, and lifted onto broad shoulders they rode triumphantly without effort. One lucky oil worker got to feel the heat of Teena’s hot young sex lips pressed against the back of his neck as he carried her over to the bar, where both girls were cheerfully hosed down with beer.
‘Goddamn it!’ Bill exclaimed. ‘Did you see those Wops? Did you see them?!’
‘I told you they were good.’ David smiled as he headed back towards their table.
‘Did you see the way they gripped that bull? Jesus, they could crack coconuts with them thighs. I could clean up in this shit-hole with them two girls.’
‘Worth every bit of that twenty grand,’ David agreed.
Bill sat down across from him again, poured out two shots of vodka, and smiled. ‘Worth every nickel, except we already settled on fifteen.’ He knocked back his drink, realised it was vodka, and cursed long and loud. ‘That’s all you deserve for drinking this piss! You got no standards. What would you do with another five grand, anyway?’
The manager announced that the show was over to disappointed groans, but they were short-lived as a tall blonde girl trotted out onto the stage, and began gyrating to another track blasting from the tape deck. Like moths attracted to the light of a lovely fire, the men drifted back towards the stage and watched, half hypnotized, as she slowly began stripping for them.
‘Is it a deal then?’ Bill asked.
David had already made up his mind. He was leaving in the morning. He had let the girls dance tonight in order to watch their reaction. If they hadn’t enjoyed themselves, he would have taken them with him, but he could see they relished the freedom of the American lifestyle. When he first met them, they were living a quiet existence in northern Russia following a herd of deer, their lives governed by the seasons - long cold winters and a few short and glorious months of summer. The winters were just as cold here in Alaska but lit up by the bright neon signs of countless bars and casinos. The roads were paved and people drove expensive sports utility vehicles. All these things excited the girls, as did their new western clothing, and the discovery that men would pay handsomely to watch them take it all off.
‘It’s a deal,’ David announced, just as the girls turned up at the table and sat down on either side of them. They had washed the beer off and changed into short denim skirts and cotton shirts, over which they were still wearing their beloved cowboy hats.
‘Great,’ Bill declared. ‘Let’s celebrate.’
‘What are we celebrating?’ Teena asked.
Bill rolled his eyes up into his skull in mock rapture. ‘God, I love that accent.’
That was something else the girls had learned quickly; their English was now nearly perfect, and tinged with a sexy foreign lilt men seemed to find ir
resistible.
‘Bill says it’s okay for you to stay with him,’ David told her.
‘But what about you?’ Mishka asked solemnly.
David hesitated. He knew the sisters felt very close to him and would be saddened by his departure, but there was no easy way to break the news. ‘I’m leaving in the morning,’ he said bluntly, ‘and heading south.’
As he had expected, both girls suddenly looked glum.
‘Hey,’ Bill said brightly, ‘I’ll take care of you.’
They looked to David for confirmation.
‘You’ll be safe with Bill,’ he assured them. ‘He’s your new man now. You must do as he says just as you always did for me. Whatever he asks you to do, you’ll do, and you’ll never question him, just like I taught you.’
The sisters nodded, but continued to sulk.
‘Come on girls, this is happy town,’ Grizzly said. ‘You and me, we’ll make a fortune. You’ll have everything you want.’
This promise cheered the sisters up somewhat, and Teena asked tentatively, ‘Anything?’
‘Anything,’ her new owner answered firmly, ‘as long as you’re good girls.’
‘That’s settled then,’ David said. ‘They’re always good girls.’
The mood of the table lifted, and Bill suggested they head back to his lodge to cement the deal.
Grizzly’s home sat back from the road on the outskirts of town only a few minutes’ drive from the bar. There were no lights on inside except for those of his security system, which kicked in the moment they turned onto the drive.
Teena promptly leapt out from the back seat, and ran her hand admiringly along the paintwork of the four-by-four. ‘Can I have one of these?’ she asked sweetly.
Bill put his arm around her. ‘Baby, you keep jiggling those nice big tits of yours the way you did tonight, and you can have a whole fucking fleet of them.’
On the walk down his driveway, Teena showed him just how good she could jiggle her breasts, and Bill laughed cheerfully.
