Sorro's Yacht (Bitches And The Cocaine Wars)

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May 15, 2021
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Looking for a F co-author/ co-conspirator.

Sorro's Story​

The sun slid down across the sky and its sundry sunset lines and ripples at the ending of the day, illuminating the sea in bright reds and purples. In painters streaks the darkness slowly ebbed at the back of the sky, and rippled over the waves in its red and yellow sparks and verdure.
The 280 foot Yacht, was a giant, and had the words 'Tricky Dicky' on the side, stenciled in black. It skipped over the waves at a high rate of speed, and eventually slowed as they reached the panhandle between the straits of Ismuth, and the Panocopia Isles. The nearby town of Kino, was illumined in the night at the shadows slowly took over the night, and would soon erase the great violet-red glorious cast over the skies and distant clouds. There was a slow rumble of distant lighting and a flash a hundred miles away.
Yeltsin Sorro was wearing shorts, a couple gold chains, a watch, and a semi-automatic pistol in his pants, flip flops and nothing else. He walked past his security guards, who were dressed in white suits. Each sported an automatic weapon.
It had been a good life so far, if Sorro, commander of the $24M Yacht, and a large drug cartel had any say in it, it would continue to be very profitable and lucrative. “May we live in troubled times” had been his calling card so far. When there was inequity there was always money to be made in the black or white market. He walked across the ship from the fore deck to the aft, with a large Cuban cigar in hand, and toward his hired 'maid' we'll call her. She manned a bar with five seats around it, and behind that the convertible pool (which would rise up and flush out the water to below deck storage to make the whole surface usable as a dance floor, or for gatherings).
The hired maid, a pretty young Latino lass with skin that popped out in the last vestiges of the golden sun, huge breasts, and curvaceous as any girl nodded to him, and grabbed a night coat from near the bar, beside the expansive pool with about 6 lawn chairs around it. She walked up to him, and spread out the sleeves of a broad beige night coat. He turned and allowed him to pull it over his arms from behind.
He noticed her the outer press of her erect nipples rubbing against his back, as she put the house coat on. . . and grinned because he liked that kind of feel.
“Getting nipply out tonight, Sincolleta?”
“Yes, I would say that. Sunsets and tables of coke always make me very aroused. Would you like your cock serviced, Master Sorro?”
“No thanks, I'm expecting someone. We're doing a moonlight deal.”
“You're sure you can't just lay back there on that lawn chair, and spread them for me? I could even fuck you if you liked?”
“No thanks. These Mai Thais are getting a little stale. Why don't you serve me something with Vodka. Maybe a Black Russian, then.”
“Okay, I'll get you a Black Russian then. Spiced Jamaican Rum okay?”
“Absolutely, Sincoletta, you mix 'em great!”
Sorro walked to the end of the pool and laid down in his seat. He put the stogie into the ash tray near him, and reached for his favorite book, a bodice ripper titled “Bitches And The Cocaine Wars”.
Secretly Sorro had thought a few times, that it was not enough to just go after the hired help, but she was a sexy bitch. Soon a very interesting client would show up. She was new and seemed like she might be CIA, which would be interesting indeed. Very sexy he could tell from the dossier his best hired sleuths had come up with.
 
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