"Ghostwriter to a Killer" (closed)

[PennySaver]

"Ghostwriter to a Killer"

closed​

When the man awoke and looked to the end of his bed, he found a stranger standing there, looking down upon him with an emotionless expression. As he sat up in surprise, she told him calmly, "Don't be alarmed. My name is Jennifer Craig, and I am your client. You can call me Jennie."

She flashed a copy of the room's electronic key card, then slipped it into the front pocket of the jeans. They fit like a second skin about her narrow waist, pear shaped buttocks, and athletic legs. Four inch heels added to the delicious look of her lower half, while the revealing, cropped, tank top that showed off two inches of her midriff did the same for her upper portion.

Regarding the keycard, Jennie said, "I hope you don't mind my letting myself in, but it's nearly noon and I simply couldn't wait to meet you any longer. Also, seeing how I paid for the room, as well your first class seat to Seattle, the limo from the airport, and that amazing dinner last night."

Jennie looked straight to him, smiling. "I had no idea you could get a T-bone steak and three kinds of seafood from hotel room service at 3am. Tell me, do you always eat like that...? Or … only when someone else is paying the tab?"

She gave him a dismissive wave, indicating that she was fine with his decision to take full advantage of the deal that he'd been offered but was yet to accept. Of course, why would anyone accept an offer that had been so simply and vaguely described as ghost writing a tell all autobiography of a former criminal. That was it; that was all he was told. Oh wait, he'd also been told he would have full access to and cooperation from this until-this-moment unidentified criminal for a maximum of 30 days, during which he had to ask all the questions he wanted and get all the facts available before starting and finishing the project in another 30 days.

Jennie looked to him still sitting in the bed and asked with a polite smile, "Shall we get started?"

 

[Homerun2611]

Manuel Cordero was still groggy as he opened his eyes. For fuck's sake, what time was it? He thought. However, his mood changed slightly as she came into focus. "Uh...hello, Jennie." He quickly looked down, Manuel generally slept in the nude, as he was now, but luckily nothing was showing, and the several drinks he had enjoyed both in first class and then with room service had killed any chance of morning wood. He pulled the sheet up and sat up anyway. "I didn't realize..."

Manuel, was only 25, he had not had a lot of job interviews, and only one real prior job, but he knew this was not an auspicious start. He saw her flash the room key, but his thoughts were more on her. He hadn't been sure exactly what his new boss or this deal was all about. She had seen his articles in New Republic, the only significant pieces he had ever published. One had been a profile of the New York Don's, the five longest and most established mafia families who collectively ruled the world's busiest city's seven burroughs. He had one critical acclaim for his fact based research and balanced, non sensationalist approach. That piece had gotten him an invitation to write a similar autobiographical piece on the son's of Joaquin "El Chapo" Guzman and their attempts to reorganize their father's empire. Critics had called his work breathtaking and gritty, setting a new precedent for the biographies of underworld figures.

Sadly, critical acclaim and three bucks gets you a small Starbuck's when budget cuts hit, so now the Master's in American Literature from Northwestern, and heralded young writer, was barely making rent in his Lincoln Park apartment as a substitute high school teacher when he got this opportunity from Miss Craig. A free first class flight to Seattle, a room at the Four Season's, what was their to complain about, he would discuss the gig, and if nothing else he had a fun weekend in first class accommdations.

"Uh...yeah...that was a nice surprise, the Kitchen here apparently is open 24x7, and will make whatever you want to order, on the . They also make a great Four Roses and Ginger, I highly recommend it." He was trying to be smoothe, likely failing completely, but at least the cobwebs were clearing. "But thank you, I really do appreciate the accommodations."

He looked at her, "Get started?" It seemed so. "Yeah, sure, I'd love to know more what you are hoping to do here. One month research, and then one month to write, my name appears nowhere, a pure ghost writer, right? However I assume I am not staying here the whole time, so any idea of logistics would be helpful and background."

Wait a minute, he was sitting in bed naked, talking to his new boss. "If you don't mind, why don't you go down to the cafe and maybe get us a couple of coffees, I will shower super fast and meet you down there, or you can come back up here....Again, thanks for the suite, this place is Killer!" He looked at her, perhaps that was a poor choice of words, fuck, he had no idea she would be this hot!

 

[PennySaver]

Jennie occasionally glanced to the man as she was wandering the luxurious, spacious hotel bedroom. He was attractive, perhaps even sexy, though, to be honest, Jennie had never quite understood what did or did not make a man good looking. It was likely the reason she'd never had a type. Men were men and that was that; she could usually find something she liked, needed, or wanted from each of them, and often looks had nothing to do with that. Though, in all honesty, if Jennie was looking for a bed partner, Manuel Cordero would easily make the top ten of men who would first come to her mind.

He spoke of the hotel room and its offerings, then suggested that Jennie give him some space to dress so that they could possibly meet downstairs. She looked around, found and picked up his jockeys, and tossed them at him. "We have somewhere to be in 45 minutes. Get dressed."

Jennie turned and left the room unhurriedly and waited for him to join her. She headed for the door, telling him, "First rule … never ask me about or speak of my story or about what you have written thus far unless I have first told you that our current location and situation permit it. More often than not, in this Nanny Cam society in which we live, you can't be sure whether or not you are in an unsecure location."

Without a word exchanged between them, Jennie led Manuel from his room, through the hotel, and to a sporty, two seat convertible the Valet had awaiting them right out front. Jennie slipped on some driving gloves as she got behind the wheel, finally breaking the silence with, "Not secure yet."

She pulled the car out into crowded streets and shot ahead, driving way too fast and changing lanes far too often; once she caught the attention of a police officer finishing writing a ticket, but by the time the man got back into his cruiser and out into the road, Jennie had put three blocks and two curves between them. She loved to drive, and it was obvious in her expression and body language.

She took a hard right that put them onto I-5, but had them off again at the very next off ramp. Rolling through a stop light, practically sliding through three more corners in heavy traffic, and flying under an overpass of Highway 99 … and suddenly Jennie skidded the little car to a stop near Alaskan Way.

"Let's go," she told him as she got out. She tossed the keys into the floor board of the car, which Manuel noticed. Jennie smiled widely, telling him, "Not my car. I sorta … borrowed it."

She walked them across the street, down the block, and up as close to the waterfront construction area as they could get without a foreman barking at them. She just stood there for the longest time listening to the noise of the big machines before them, the surface streets and freeways behind them, and the seagulls above them.

"I've always loved the waterfront," she mused. "Not the ocean, not the lake, not just … some body of water … no, the waterfront. The hustle of the boats, the hardworking men with their rippling bodies--"

At that moment, a construction worker in a reflective vest stepped out of a Port-a-Potty; he was maybe 5'8" and pushing 300 pounds. Jennie smiled, then chuckled as she recalled her comment about bodies and added, "Or not."

She pointed off to the remains of some sort of structure that had very nearly been demolished for whatever project was going up here. With that same matter of fact tone she'd been using thus far, Jennie said, "I buried the first man I ever killed right there, in a hole I knew was having four feet of concrete poured atop it the next day."

She didn't look at Manuel for his reaction to her claim, instead continuing, "I suspect that at the rate they are digging, they'll find him in … two, maybe three days … maybe sooner. Gregory Kendall. He was an up and coming political who my client wanted out of the way."

It was only now that Jennie looked to Manuel. "I was 14 at the time, a bit young for a female contract killer … a bit young for any contract killer I suppose."

She tried to relieve any tension that might have suddenly risen in the writer by reassuring him, "I want my story to be told, Mister Cordero … and so long as I believe that you are making progress … and that you are keeping what I am telling you and what you are learning about me in confidence … that means no cops, obviously … so long as that is the case, I will never harm you or anyone who is important to you."

Jennie looked back out to the water, drew in a deep breath of salt and engine exhaust, and very casually asked, "How's Little Debbie doing on her science project...? STEM is a wonderful program, and it tickles me that she chose to research the effect of artificial flavoring and colors on mice."

Jennie didn't bother to look at her ghost writer for his reaction to her mentioning his sister's 12 year old daughter. She was too busy admiring the work being done out before her...

 

[Homerun2611]

IC: Manuel Cordero

The idea of her leaving so he might get ready, shower and then begin had seemed reasonable, he was young, and he would be ready in 15 minutes. He watched her, unsure if she had even heard him, she had only briefly glanced at him, which in itself was unusual. Manuel was no egotistical, but he was realistic, and realistically, the young latino author was a stud. Without even trying to be, he was a player, as he did not sit long at a bar without having a drink bought for him, often by an older woman, and there were enough offers that only the most attractive earned his favor.

He found it interesting how easy it was to bed women. He did not lie, he was a straight shooter, never setting any sort of expectations. He was a good listener, he was witty, brown eyes that women wanted to dive into and seemed to be able to look right inside their souls. And then there were the obvious and not so obvious physical attributes, young, handsome, he had muscular arms, six pack abs, and if they got to that point, a very large, and in the right mood, incredibly hard, uncircumcised latin cock with shaved pubes. Yet, she barely seemed to notice he was laying here almost naked.

However, he noticed. He hadn't anticipated her being this sexy or young. The killers he had met, both in the mafiosa and cartels were usually scar faced men with dark, soulless eyes, not sexy young babes who, shit, he had to stop staring at her midriff and ass! She moved like a predator though, quietly and gracefully. Her eyes always moving, like a fucking shark, stop or slow down and you might die. Suddenly she bent over and his boxer briefs were airbound and hitting him in the chest. "We have somewhere to be in 45 minutes. Get dressed."

And that was that, she was clearly not one for discussion. He reached under the sheet and slid the under armour briefs on, and then got up, keeping his back turned, suddenly modest, which was not like him at all. Was he intimidated? She was nowhere near as menacing as his last two subjects, but in her own way was more intimidating, and he felt a sexy tingle wash over him. He tossed on jeans, a Northwestern purple t-shirt and teva sandals. It wasn't worth trying to brush his hair, and he only shaved once every couple of days, but he brushed his teeth, put on deodorant, and splashed cold water on his face. "All right, let's go." He grabbed his backpack which had his laptop, a couple of spiral notebooks and a handful of pens. He was ready for work.

Chatty Cathy she wasn't. The car was a sexy little sports car, made even sexier by the driver. He realized this was going to be an issue he had to get over. He had never been attracted to a subject before, although he had ended up fucking an Escobar sister and niece, and a Corleone daughter and ex mistress. He had no issue combining business and pleasure but was always straight up, and had not had it be an issue in the past.

"FUCK!!!" Suddenly his knuckles were white as Jennie did moves that would have made Danica Patrick proud. Manuel didn't drive, was pretty much an Uber or "L" train guy in Chicago, or subways and taxi's in NY, and here he was suddenly in some sort of grand prix event through Seattle. He felt nauseous as they swerved in and out of traffic, but he stayed quietly. It was probably the alcohol from last night rearing its ugly head, but he would have given all his cash for the opportunity to hang his head out of the open air vehicle and throw up what ailed him.

He looked at her curiously as she had mentioned her concerns of privacy. The wind was swirling so fast through this car, the best equipment in the world wouldn't have a chance. Mercifully she spun to a stop, and flipped the keys on he floorboard and encouraged him to get out and follow. "Not my car. I sorta … borrowed it." At first he laughed, "Great, I have known you less than an hour and you have already involved me in a crime with serious jail time." It was a joke, but he was impressed and panicked. He strippef off his t-shirt though, which flashed his sculpted chest, and wiped down the door handle and the door which had been his lifeline during her tour de force driving. He put the shirt back on. "Okay, where now?"

They walked a ways, down to the waterfront and he watched her gaze out, not rushing her, this was her dime, her dancefloor and if she wanted to reflect a moment, he would take in the view. Then suddenly she began without warning, a bit wistful but also some self deprecating humor. Time would tell if and what kind of monster lurked inside, as had his other discussions, but Manuel was not a black and white guy. He had found redeeming features and hints of humanity in even the most ruthless, he enjoyed the journey of their joint self discovery, learning what made them tick and better understanding the fires that had forged who they were today.

"Yeah, there is something soothing about waterfront like this, and the ability to bury your demons....Fourteen is young..." He made a mental note, that would be key to the story, and he would want to relive all aspects of that first kill. He listened to her describe her goal, expectations, and her extended contract terms. He felt a chill at the threat, but it was not unexpected, nor as frightening as the Guzman boys who promised to "filet him alive while he watched", but the fact she touched on Debbie, a total innocent, made her a different type of criminal, or so he feared.

He didn't blink, "Come with me." He momentarily slid his hand around her waist and walked to the far end of the pier and up an embankment to a small park. There were people running and riding bikes on a track and he found an empty bench beneath a cluster of pines. He put his finger to his lips and quickly scanned the bench. It was clean, and the air in the pines would make it impossible for long range hearing devices to pick them up, however he doubted anyone was listening anyway, yet! He motioned for her to sit down and then sat down with his knee on the bench bent facing her, his arm draped out towards her along the back.

"I want to tell your story, and threats aren't necessary. I understand who I have chosen to write about, I understand the terms, and the consequences. If the DEA and FBI couldn't get me to give up my intel, no one else will. I understand that there is nothing the government could do that would be worse than what you and they are willing to." He stopped and looked at her.

"I work for you. Each night or early morning I will write up my notes and thoughts from the prior day. You are welcome to read any of it. It will be honest and unvarnished and you may not like it. Just now, my thoughts are evolving and organic, we will get to know each other much better, and some of my early assumptions and observations will be wrong. I don't have an agenda of how to portray you, other than real, and in as much detail and holistically as I can. You may not like it, and I am your ghost writer so you can change delete or edit as you choose. But I am good I know I am, and I will be fair....You are paying me $100k for two months plus expenses and 10% of your royalties, that is fair and I have to deliver you a finished manuscript through two rounds of complete review and edits. You will receive all of my working papers when I am done, and you can have them to look at, at any time. Once complete I will hand over and/or destroy all files. I assume that is still acceptable? Jenn, I won't judge you, nor offer salvation, I will simply write your story as I hear it."

He took a deep breath, "So..." He smiled. "You are much more attractive than I ever imagined....Damned hot! And, I am young, and not too bad myself. I have little doubt that I would love to fuck you...." Yep, he was a straight shooter. "I am not the type to fall in love, but I am young and I love sex. I have no intention to live these two months like a monk, and I want to be honest. If I had to guarantee I wouldn't have sex, I would turn down this job. I honestly thought I was going to get laid last night, but then the desk clerk had to go home and take care of her sick daughter. I will lock my work away, and I won't fuck in my room. Unless...." He looked at her and smiled again. "If me having a normal life, at least in that respect while we do this, is a show stopper, tell me now...and if you have no desire to fuck me, that is cool too. Lots of fish in the sea, and my guess is your tank is pretty full too...just curious, are you into dudes, girls or both?" He was not usually this straight forward, but she was the client an it was best to address this issue now. Truly, Manuel didn't judge, nor get emotionally tied, live and let live, he hoped she didn't judge either.

 

[PennySaver]

"Come with me."

Jennie's gaze shifted to Manuel's arm as the hand at the end of it found the small of her back. She didn't like people touching her without her permission; in the past, those wandering hands had often had knives, stun guns, or handcuffs in them, and such occasions had left the assassin jaded to unwanted touches. But she understood this to be innocent -- the man simply turning her -- and a moment later they were separated by a gap as they headed for the park.

"I want to tell your story," Manuel told her, "and threats aren't necessary."

He talked about some of his past experiences, then talked about how he worked for her now and, thus, would be faithful to the limits and guidelines she'd laid out. Jennie agreed to all of what he said about his process, but when he got to the part about how he'd be dealing with what he'd written, she presented to him the way he'd actually be working.

"When we go our own ways in a bit," she began, indicating that their current meeting wouldn't be lasting much longer, "you will dispose of your laptop and cell phone and any other electronic devices you have. Go to FedEx Office or the UPS store and send them back to Chicago … or throw them into Puget Sound, I don't care. When we meet again this evening, I will have a new phone and laptop for you, both with encryption."

She didn't mention that the encryption she was providing him was the best in the world, a next gen' program that the NSA hadn't even heard of, let alone begun trying to get around. She continued, "You can't print from this laptop … you can't take images of the screen with a camera phone or any camera for that matter … you can't save to an external flash drive or send what you have via Bluetooth, wifi, or whatever."

Jennie hesitated for a moment as a jogger flew by, then continued, "I tell you this not because I actually think you would share this information with anyone. I trust that you won't."

She almost said And Little Debbie trusts that you won't, but as far as she was concerned, Manuel's niece never had to be mentioned again. She went on, "I tell you this because, without the ability to make copies, this laptop will represent all of your efforts. If you misplace it or it is stolen … we're both fucked."

"Jenn, I won't judge you, nor offer salvation," he went on, adding, "I will simply write your story as I hear it."

He may or may not have noticed her grimace at the short use of her name, but when he waited for her response, she told him in a calm tone, "Don't call me Jenn."

She could have but didn't explain that a former lover had called her that through their entire relationship, right up to the point that she learned he'd been cheating on her ... and Jennie knocked out six of his teeth with her fist. She'd had to have four bones set in her hand, which had been followed by eight months of movement therapy. But in the end, it had been worth it; she hated liars and cheats.

"You are much more attractive than I ever imagined..." Manuel told her, adding, "Damned hot!"

She smiled to him for a combination of reasons: she appreciated his compliment, she appreciated his confidence, and -- to be honest -- she appreciated the way he looked, too, even though it would take more than that incredible face and body to get her to part her thighs for him.

When he spoke about refusing to live like a monk and the possibility that perhaps they themselves might be lovers at some point, Jennie told him, "You'll have your space to do what you want … with who you want … but … that who won't be me."

Even as she was saying it, Jennie had a feeling she was lying, to Manuel and to herself as well. Just like him, she liked sex and rarely went too long without getting it. But they had more important work right now, so, Jennie was committed to keeping the writer's hands on his laptop and out of her lap.

He asked, "Just curious, are you into dudes, girls or both?"

Jennie contemplating answering him, but instead simply stood up and said, "There is a little coffee shop down the road to the west of your hotel. Kristie's, I think it's called. Meet me there at nine tonight, and we'll continue this conversation."

With that, Jennie turned and headed away, calling back, "Think you can get back from here?"

She didn't really care, actually, but she knew he would.

#################​

At just a few minutes before the coffee's closing time of 9pm, the phone behind the counter rang. The pretty barista -- who had been eying the only patron left off an on during his wait -- answered the phone, looked his way, spoke a moment, then hung up. She set to making a couple of large lattes, then approached Manuel's booth and set them down before him.

"Lady just called … said her car got a flat three blocks from here right next to Holiday Park," she told him. Her flirty smile from earlier had disappeared; the man she'd been contemplating asking to walk her home had an SO … fuck. As she thought to herself Should have known that, duh, she finished passing on the message, "You're 'sposed to bring these with you and fix her flat."

#################​

"This'll happen at times," Jennie told Manuel when he arrived and joined her on the bench between a pair of tall, softly lit street lamps. "You'll get used to it."

She sipped from her to-go cup, then handed him a cloth bag with a local grocery store's logo on it. In it was the promised laptop and cell phone. She explained about the encryption on both, as well as the App that would mask his location. "Even when you're sitting writing, it'll make it appear as though you're out wandering somewhere else."

They spoke more about the specifics of the hardware, the job, and the safety measures before Jennie urged Manuel to his feet, slipped an arm into the crook of his elbow -- "Makes us look like a happy couple out for a stroll", she said -- and continued with the story she'd begun earlier that day. She told him he could use the phone's recorder for notes if he wanted

"When I was 14 years old," she began, "a friend of mine from school told me that her mother's new boyfriend was raping her at night after her mother -- exhausted and drunk -- passed out for the night."

Her tone was solemn and low in volume, but not at all emotional. "She asked me for advice, and I told her she should kill him. She was shocked … particularly after she told me she could never do something like that … and I told her I could."

They paused as a couple of skateboarding teens flew by. "I needed a laptop for school and she'd gotten a new one from her gramma for Christmas, so … she gave it to me as payment 'cause I told her I wasn't taking on a risk like that for nothing. She gave it to me, and I killed him."

Another pause for passing park patrons, and she began giving Manuel all the details. She'd gone over to her friend's house after school several times, flirting with the man often, before telling him she wanted to lose her virginity to a man who knew what he was doing down there. "We met down at the waterfront after dark … and without delay, I used a .22 caliber pistol I'd stolen from my Uncle to shoot him once in the face."

Jennie went into great detail about what she'd been thinking -- she'd felt no fear or hesitation -- about what it felt like, about hearing the small explosion of the gun, about watching the man fall, about pulling him into a hole that had been prepped for cement work the next day … about everything.

"I have expected to get caught, to be honest," she confessed. She went on about the anxiety that haunted her for a few days, not about having killed a rapist but about getting tossed into jail for doing so. "But, nothing ever came of it. We faked the boyfriend running off with my friend's laptop, her mother's jewelry … you know … just what you'd think a scum like that would do. Even took his toothbrush out of the bathroom and threw it away in a dumpster with his clothes."

Jennie listened to Manuel's questions, answering them without hesitation or exception...

 

[Homerun2611]

IC: Manuel Cordero

She listened to what she said, and he felt there was an understanding and tacit agreement, she did not tip her hand, but he sensed trust, at least to the extent she was capable. Yet, "When we go our own ways in a bit...you will dispose of your laptop and cell phone and any other electronic devices you have. Go to FedEx Office or the UPS store and send them back to Chicago … or throw them into Puget Sound, I don't care. When we meet again this evening, I will have a new phone and laptop for you, both with encryption."

He nodded, he knew the drill, and would oblige. The Guzman's had requested the same, but in their case, he understood why. The DEA, CIA, FBI, IRS and every other three letter organization you could think of, plus the Colombian government as well as the other cartels, all were all trying to spy, infiltrate and ultimately take them down. But who in the hell was chasing her, who even knew she existed and in what form? He had never heard of her, and over the past few years he had become quite the expert in underworld power and on and off the grid, an in particular resources of repute.

She smiled at his compliment, but his enthusiasm was short lived. "You'll have your space to do what you want … with who you want … but … that who won't be me." He smiled back "good then, I guess, we are understood." He didn't really question her sincerity, he didn't play games, and had no reason not to believe her. There were women who didn't want to fuck him, of course most of them were otherwise engaged, and hence his question, maybe she wasn't into guys, he doubted she had an SO. Just curious really, certainly not offended, he knew the sea was rich, and his pole, talented! She set their next meeting and she was off. He called a Lyft and was soon back at his hotel, he hoped the new phone at least had the apps he most relied upon.

Back in his room, he tossed on gear and went down and used the extravagant workout facility in the Four Season's Spa. Manuel had grown up poor, attended a top prep school on a soccer scholarship, similarly Notre Dame for undergraduate too on an athletic scholarship, where like an idiot he followed his passion for writing not understanding how poorly it paid. Graduate school left him heavily in debt and after two brief, but acclaimed, years of work he was out of a job with maybe $10 grand to his name and 20 x that in debt. So now, what the hell, he was being put up in a five star hotel, he might as well enjoy the perks. Hence, last night's dinner and today's workout, steamer and shower in the spa.

Dinner was down in the bar, a club sandwich chips and a draft . He compiled a few questions based on thoughts coming from earlier. 14? How possibly had she been hired at 14, when was her next kill, was it easier or harder? The beginnings were always the most interesting. A child is not born an assassin, a drug czar or even a Don, and the first steps along that path fascinated him. They would start there, and follow the trail.

#################​

He smiled at the irony as he walked into the Katie's Exotic Cafe's. Here he was in Seattle and he wasn't even at Starbuck's. It was 8:30 and he was one of only five customers and there were plenty of sit down tables open. He wanted to be plenty early after this morning's wake-up surprise. The cute girl at the counter came over to the table, "So are you Katie?" He asked, thinking she was pretty young to own her own place. "No Katie is my Mom, I work here on the late shift. I'm Lauren her daughter, I just graduated from U Dub." She had given him a lot of information, much more than he asked and he knew that usually led to good things.

He had ordered a grande black with a touch of mocha, and now for the last twenty minutes they had exchanged smiles and increasing glances as he drank the strong, exceedingly hot coffee, and then she got a call and it vanished, the fire extinguished. and a different attitude walked over. "Lady just called … said her car got a flat three blocks from here right next to Holiday Park...You're 'sposed to bring these with you and fix her flat." Two fresh togo cups roughly set down. She had spirit at least, fire was good.

Well that explained it, this needed immediate triage, his plane was in a nosedive and the ground was coming up fast. "Shit, Jennie..." Lauren had turned on her heel and was walking away. "Do you have any sibling's? any that are as big of a pain in the ass as my big sister?" She turned and the smile was back, "Sister? Uh no, was that?" He cut her off. "Yeah we were supposed to meet here, to be honest I was hoping she had stood me up."

He looked up with his deep, twinkling brown eyes, and winked. "You were huh? Why's that?" Lauren had made a u-turn and was now approaching the table. "Well I was hoping that maybe you might be free, but obviously..." The grin was back bigger than ever, "Of course, but I am working tomorrow, I will be closed up by 9:30, why don't you pick me up then, we can go grab a drink or my place is only two blocks from here..." Her place was definitely preferred. Manuel let his smile grow slowly, acting like this was a complete and total surprise. "Tomorrow it is, and oh, I'm Manuel, I will meet you here at 9:30, something to look forward to..." He leaned in and kissed the attractive young server on the cheek, tossing a twenty on the table, about an 80% tip, and turned to walk out. Yes, there were plenty of fish in the sea and his pole had just landed another, hopefully Jennifer Craig, his boss, would be okay that he had a date?

#################​

He handed her the coffee, "What exactly happens all the time? I assume you didn't steal another car, so you mean a sudden change of plans?" He laughed, he didn't mind and actually found her little idiosyncrasies interesting. She gave him the laptop and phone and explained how it all worked. "That's pretty cool...is it still my number?" He fingered the phone in his hand, he had lots of questions regarding this fear of privacy, but it could wait until later.

Instead, they began to walk and she slipped her arm in his. "Makes us look like a happy couple out for a stroll." He chuckled, "Isn't that what we are, the killer and her writer under the moonlight?" That was the end of niceties, as almost immediately as they began to walk, she started the story of her first hit. He listened, watching her reactions as she gave the details, neither her body or her voice seemed to convey any emotion. "Was there ever a moment you considered not going through with it or, other than the fear of getting caught, regretted it?" Her action had been heroic in a vigilante sort of way. Had that what made it easier.

"What if the guy hadn't been a creep. I mean the killing of a pedophile and abusive man is almost a service to the community. But what if he had just been a normal pain in the ass, to strict, embarrassing, you know the archetypal Mom's boyfriend. That first time, would you still have been able to kill him?"

Her discussion of her reaction post shooting was interesting. No signs of remorse, but again the guy did seem to be a pig. He would touch on that theme later, did she ever have remorse or second thoughts, or did she have to train her body not to go there in order to perform this line of work efficiently?

He listened to the end, and they walked along a bit in silence while he thought through where he wanted tonight's discussion to go. "So, were there any repercussions ever? Did you stay friends with the girl, as far as you know, is it still a secret?"

He thought back to the way she had looked out at the waterfront. "So you obviously knew the progress of this building? Is the looming discovery of this body have anything to do with why we are here now, is that why you have chosen to tell your story?"

When he had gone back to his hotel something had kept racking at his brain. He stopped and turned so he could look at her. "I was trying to figure out why I was so shocked that you were so young, and attractive, and then I realized. It seems odd that at your age you want to tell your story. Unless I am wrong, it doesn't feel like you are retiring, and you certainly don't seem to need the money. Advertising in your line of work seems imprudent, and the clients who want you I am guessing know how to find you, but we will discuss that more later. My question for tonight is why now, what drove you to want to do this now? Does it have something to do with all of this need for security? Did something go wrong? Have you become the hunted as well as the hunter?"

 

[PennySaver]

"Was there ever a moment you considered not going through with it...?" Manuel asked, beginning his questioning about Jennie's first contract hit. "...or, other than the fear of getting caught, regretted it?"

"No," she responded simply. After a few steps she clarified, "No ... I'd known even before my friend finished telling me about her mother's asshole boyfriend that he needed to be dead … and … that if she approved of it, I could do it."

"What if the guy hadn't been a creep?" he continued interviewing her. "I mean the killing of a pedophile and abusive man is almost a service to the community."

Jennie agreed with that, of course; most people would have.

"But what if he had just been a normal pain in the ass, too strict, embarrassing, you know the archetypal Mom's boyfriend. That first time, would you still have been able to kill him?"

Jennie contemplated her answer for a moment. She'd promised Manuel honesty in her answers to him, and she wanted to be sure that he got the truth of that day and not her emotional feelings of this moment.

"That first time … no, if he had simply been a pain in the ass … no, I don't think I would or could have killed him," Jennie told him. "Later … after I'd … after I'd become what most people would call a true professional … yeah, I could and would have killed him, though … for more than a laptop and my friend's show of appreciation. But no … that first time … it was driven by my feelings about what he was doing to my friend. It wasn't so much about the financial benefit, though … to be honest, that laptop came in handy over my high school years."

After she gave him more details about her feelings at the time -- the details that would make the book so much more realistic than some fictional novel written by a someone who'd never lived the life -- Manuel asked, "So, were there any repercussions ever? Did you stay friends with the girl, as far as you know, is it still a secret?"

Jennie's grip on the crook of Manuel's elbow tightened a bit at this question, enough so that he reacted as if he understood he'd struck a nerve. Again, she contemplated her answer before saying, "Yes, it's still a secret. To the best of my knowledge, Rita and I were the only one's ever to know what we'd ... what I'd done."

She hesitated before completing her answer, "Rita's mom was devastated by her beau's disappearance. As I said, we made it look like he'd abandoned her … ran off with her money and stuff. I even drove her car down to Olympia … parked it outside the Greyhound and bought a ticket to LA … put an empty throwaway coffee cup with the bus line's logo on it in the center console holder to make it look like he'd been sitting there, waiting for the bus."

Another interruption by passing pedestrians was followed with, "I hadn't expected a police investigation, of course. If there had been one, all of this had been wasted … it wouldn't have worked. But this wasn't intended to fool the police … only Rita's mom. And it worked … too well."

Jennie glanced up to Manuel, just as he glanced down to her. In the light of a nearby street lamp, he might have noticed that her eyes were just a bit glazed over from threatening tears. She turned away, though, and fought them off as she finished that part of the story, "Rita's mom … in her depression … her desperation … she hooked up with a new guy who was even worse. 'Bout a year later, he went into Rita's room one night to have his way with her … Rita fought back … he punched her … and she fell back against the lamp table. Killed her."

They walked on for a while in silence, a pause that was broken by Manuel moving on with, "So you obviously knew the progress of this building?"

"My step-father … nice guy … he worked the site," she explained. She talked for several minutes about unrelated stuff: her step daddy, her mother, the two's happy marriage that, unfortunately, ended when he died of a sudden stroke at 44, and other such things. She finished the answer to the question, "He was working the site … his skill was rebar and concrete pouring … not much of a specialty, you might think, but not everyone can do it … and he got paid good money for it."

"Is the looming discovery of this body have anything to do with why we are here now, is that why you have chosen to tell your story?"

"Sort of," Jennie said vaguely. She paused for a long moment, and Manuel must have sensed she wasn't ready to explain it any further.

He began explaining his thinking about how she'd become a contract killer so young, about how she wanted to tell her story, about how it seemed odd that she would be retiring so early in her career.

"My question for tonight is why now, what drove you to want to do this now?" he went on. "Does it have something to do with all of this need for security? Did something go wrong? Have you become the hunted as well as the hunter?"

Jennie didn't respond for quite a while, maybe three or four or five minutes, she couldn't be sure as her mind was so jumbled with thoughts. Finally, she stopped and turned to face Manuel, pausing another moment

"I'm dying, Mister Cordero," she said softly. She gave him a moment to contemplate such a blunt statement, then went on, "Strange little disease of the brain that I can't even pronounce, even after listening to my doctors talk about it for the past nine months. No pain … at least, not usually. No symptoms either. They only found it because I had some blood work done after I ate some bad sushi in Paris last year while on a job … and yes, I'll tell you about that contract but not tonight."

She turned him again, this time back toward the entrance through which their walk had originated. "That's not the only reason, though. Yes … the hunter has become the hunted. I, um … I pissed some people off a while back. I won't get into how I did it for now, but … I promise, you'll hear all about it because it is obviously a part of my story. Suffice it to say for now … I want to tell my story before either this fucking disease or the fuckers looking for me kill me."

Jennie peeked up to the far side of the street as she had a few times earlier, spotting the woman standing in a relatively dark section of sidewalk. She asked Manuel, "Have you told anyone what we are working on together?"

She knew what the answer would be, but felt she needed to ask it. She followed up with, "Why don't you go cross the street and see what's bothering your new friend."

Jennie nodded Manuel attention to the figure watching them. She turned to face him again, adjusted his jacket against the cold like a good friend -- or as he'd claimed, a sister -- might do, then told him, "Go ahead. We're done here for the night. Noon tomorrow down at the waterfront, and we'll talk more about that kill … and my most recent one."

She rose to her tippy toes and gave Manuel a family member-like hug before turning to leave in the opposite direction.

 

[Homerun2611]

There was a reason for his questions beyond just the information he gathered. He was also testing her ability to put her back honestly in the situations she described. Time changes memories, perceptions, recollections. The person you are now, is not necessarily, almost guaranteed weren't the person you were then. So he listened carefully, as much as to how she answered as what?

"That first time … no, if he had simply been a pain in the ass … no, I don't think I would or could have killed him...Later … after I'd … after I'd become what most people would call a true professional … yeah, I could and would have killed him, though … for more than a laptop and my friend's show of appreciation. But no … that first time … it was driven by my feelings about what he was doing to my friend. It wasn't so much about the financial benefit, though … to be honest, that laptop came in handy over my high school years."

Her answer was interesting, but the way she answered, the ability to dissect and differentiate what she felt and how she acted then, versus how the person she was today, was an imperative ability to reflect, and capture who you were in the moment, as to how you would feel today. He didn't smile, he actually tried hard not to show emotion, nor even respond. Silence was an ally, for in silence your mind often recollected facts that had been long buried.

He was impressed how at 14, she had been as thorough as she was, establishing a cover story complete with evidence of the exit. But it was interesting to watch her reaction, clear emotion, but of exactly what type, unclear. Anguish for a dead friend? In her line of work he wondered how many friends, real friends she had. "When she died, did you question, what if? I can't imagine you can allow yourself that luxury."

All of this was interesting, but she was showing she had layers, could self reflect, and there was definitely a story here, he could feel it. But the answer as to why now? That did rattle him. She had taken her time, and he could tell how hard it was for her to actually say it, but finally she did. "I'm dying, Mister Cordero...Strange little disease of the brain that I can't even pronounce, even after listening to my doctors talk about it for the past nine months. No pain … at least, not usually. No symptoms either. They only found it because I had some blood work done after I ate some bad sushi in Paris last year while on a job … and yes, I'll tell you about that contract but not tonight."

He had a million follow up questions, but this was her moment and he let her have it, and silently mourned for her horrific news. Yet she wasn't done, his question had been more prescient than he realized. She was being hunted from the inside and afar, he understood her urgency. "Well that is more than enough reason, even though you didn't have to justify yourself. Like I said, your dime your dance floor, you are paying me, and I am a professional too. I can go as hard and fast at this as you want to go. Tomorrow I would like to move on to hit number 2, how long was it after the first and how did it come about?"

She looked up and behind him, "Have you told anyone what we are working on together?" He shook his head, "Of course not, nor would I. But you only called me two days ago, told me what you wanted and I was on a plane that evening. I not only haven't talked about this, I haven't talked." She mentioned his new friend? And he turned, "That's Lauren, the barista, we were going to connect tomorrow night, she must have come here looking for me...I'm sorry." He turned back toward Jennie, "I'm sorry about the situation...I really am, but I promise to tell your story...." He looked back over his shoulder at Lauren, "....and that is my priority, I promise."

He felt like they had a moment, and he realized, he liked her. Maybe she had been right, maybe fucking would have been a mistake. The hug felt good, very sisterlike. They agreed to meet tomorrow and he turned and walked over to where Laurel stood waiting. As he closed he smiled, "You couldn't wait until tomorrow night? Should I feel honored or worried? That was my sister..." He looked over his shoulder but didn't see Jennie there any longer. "...she seems o be gone, maybe you can meet her some other time, but since your here, I'm assuming you're free? Should we go grab a drink? I'm not from around here, what is nearby?" He closed and slipped his strong arm, around her waist, ready to follow wherever she might suggest.

 

[PennySaver]

Lauren was conflicted when Manuel came to her and repeated his story about meeting his sister in the park. She hadn't bought it at all back in the coffee shop, because -- to be absolutely honest -- she'd already decided she was going to take that gorgeous man home with her tomorrow and fuck his brains out. At least, until the phone call.

Closing the shop up was a typically a snap, particularly when you'd only had one patron in the last hour. Lauren had had the place practically clean by the time Manuel left, so all she'd had to do was turn off a few machines, put a few others in standby -- the espresso machines in particular, which were never turned totally off -- and wipe down a few remaining surfaces.

Lauren had headed out the door in a hurry, heading to the right, as opposed to the left … toward home. She wanted to see if the man's tale was true, and she knew she would know within seconds of seeing the two together. Only … she couldn't be sure. The woman walking slowly about was holding Manuel's arm by his elbow, very much like a sister might. But then, she'd walked with future and current lovers that way before, too. She kept looking for some sort of clue: one of the other of them patting the other's ass, or an intimate kiss, or … something!

Lauren couldn't know that the woman had spotted her almost right off the bat and -- having been the one who originated the sister story -- had maintained that tale in the way she dealt with her walking partner.

"You couldn't wait until tomorrow night?" Manuel asked playfully as he finished crossing the street and stepped up onto the sidewalk before her. "Should I feel honored or worried?"

"I'm stalking you," Lauren said in a dry tone. She'd wanted it to be funny, but even she thought it had come out creepy. She lied, "No, I, um … I was heading home and..."

She stopped telling that lie, knowing that if she did take him home to her bed at some point, he would know she'd been dishonest. "I mean … I didn't want to go home … not yet … so, I was heading to a friend's house … this way."

When Lauren leaned a bit, trying to find the women who'd disappeared into the dark, Manuel said, "That was my sister..."

He looked, too, then turned back and told Lauren, "...she seems to be gone..."

Manuel talked about Lauren possibly meeting his sibling one day soon, then suggested they get a drink someplace. Lauren responded very quickly, "If you are hoping to ever fuck me … you'll tell me the truth about that woman."

She looked from the park back to Manuel, then added, "I'm ready to take you to my bed right now … and … I guarantee you will have a great time. But I don't buy this bullshit about a sister meeting you in the middle of the night to fix a flat. Where the fuck's her car? I mean, c'm'on, the just ran off into the night.

 

[Homerun2611]

He had meant it as a joke, a bit of a flirtation, but the response he received, no not the response, but the tone made him question if he shouldn't turn around and run. Her next few statements didn't help.

"No, I, um … I was heading home and...I mean … I didn't want to go home … not yet … so, I was heading to a friend's house … this way." It would have been better, so much better if she had just been honest, but clearly admitting that she had followed him like some sort of homeless puppy, did not put her in the light she hoped to present. He liked her, he thought she was cute but warning bells were beginning to go off!

There was a bit of an awkward exchange, Manuel would have considered introducing Lauren to Jennie, he knew Jennie could pull it off, but even that seemed odd, he had just met this chick and introducing her to family. "Hey Sis, this is Lauren, she has a banging little body and I am hoping to hook up tonight...after that...who knows....Lauren...this is my hot sister." He smiled a bit at the thought, but the humor was in his head, as Lauren was on a totally different vibe.

Not much took him aback, but this did, and he was beginning to sense some Glenn Close, Fatal Attraction signals. He suggested a drink and in response he got, "If you are hoping to ever fuck me … you'll tell me the truth about that woman." While he appreciated the early alignment regarding fucking, the rest, not so much.

"Whoa...I have known you like thirty minutes and exchanged little more than our names and an agreement to hook up tomorrow....I didn't realize we were exclusive...she is my sister, but..." She cut him off, "I'm ready to take you to my bed right now … and … I guarantee you will have a great time. But I don't buy this bullshit about a sister meeting you in the middle of the night to fix a flat. Where the fuck's her car? I mean, c'm'on, the just ran off into the night.

He guessed this was an odd sort of progress, they were agreed on not just wanting sex, but wanting it tonight, but he needed to set the playing field. "...as I tried to say, but she has issues. What those are, really aren't your business yet, are they?...If she was something else, you would have seen me kiss her and take her home, I'd like to fuck tonight, every bit as much as you...."

He slowed, and wanted it to resonate that he was as horny for her, but only under certain conditions. "I don't lie to women...." Okay, this was a lie, but a white lie, as Jennie had made it clear, that brotherly love was as close to her pussy as he was getting, if he even got that far. "but I am also not in or particularly looking for any sort of exclusivity. I am just in town, and will be here a lot over the next two months, I am a writer and so I go where the work is. You can look up my work, I tend to write about bad guys so the less you know about why I might work on here the better for you."

Agan he let that synch in, it was a bit of a threat, but it was the truth, and...the danger was usually a turn on, it was for him as well. "...I am looking to have some fun, beyond that, no plans...if you are looking for Mr. Right, I am at best Mr. Fun with a slight chance of maybe. I like to have a good time...and if I may be so humble...I work had to leave my lovers sated and purring. If anyone is lying here, it is you...you are not headed to a friend's, you came here to find me and see what the fuck was going on...Jennie saw you and sent me over, love's don't do that...we aren't even lovers YET, but would you shoo me to another girl?"

He saw her mind working, as always he was a straight shooter, often it ended good, occassionally he got a slap to his face or a face full of a thrown drink as he offered no illusions that he was Lancelot and he was searching for Camelot. "I liked you, I thought you were cute, more than cute, really fucking hot...so now, do you want that drink, or if you want to just go home and fuck, I am more than willing to join you?"

 

[PennySaver]

Lauren listened to all Manuel said, and -- alarmingly -- found herself even more conflicted than before. The man seriously sounded sincere and truthful in what he was saying about that other woman, and yet at the same time Lauren had dealt with a great many convincing fuck-liars in her life, too.

"I liked you, I thought you were cute," Manuel went on, "more than cute, really fucking hot

Lauren had just glanced off to the park again as if searching for a big sign that said either said He's lying! or Fuck him right here, right now!. At his compliment of her, Lauren looked back up to the taller man again and couldn't help but smile. She knew she was cute; hell, everyone told her she was cute. But fucking hot...? No, really fucking hot, he'd said. No one had said that to her before, except maybe when she'd been out dancing at a meat market, braless in a pencil skirt with an almost-not-there thong.

"...so now, do you want that drink, or if you want to just go home and fuck, I am more than willing to join you?"


Lauren's smile grew even wider, showing off her beautiful, perfect white teeth in the street light shining down upon them. She studied Manuel for a long moment; she wanted him thrusting inside her so badly. But … shit, there was just something about the situation that disturbed her.

"Gimme your phone," she said, reaching a hand out and waggling it before him. He hesitated, which was just another red flag to Lauren. She said with a loud laugh, "Gimme your phone, asshole. I'm not gonna read your texts with your multitude of girlfriends or see how many right or left swipes you have on your multitude of hook up sites. I'm giving you my number."

When he didn't hand it out to her, she grabbed his hand, urged his fingers out, pulled a marker from her work shirt's pocket, and began writing in his palm. When she was finished, the barely legible scrawl said: For the best fuck ever... and included her phone number.

She backed away, telling Manuel, "Call me tomorrow afternoon … and maybe we'll hook up."

Smiling again, Lauren turned away and -- with an extra little swing in her ass -- headed back down the street the same way from which she'd come … the right way home this time. She called out without even turning to look back at him, "Oh! And if that's your beatin' off hand … I'd transfer that number to paper before you get it all lotiony. You won't get it from me again."

 

[PennySaver]

Deleted

 

[Homerun2611]

There was a connection, he wasn't wrong. But maybe she talked more game than she had. In the cafe, he had assumed the sweet but quiet type. A girl he had and she'd probably have a beer, maybe nurse it an hour or two, and if she was really bold do a glass of wine or a cosmo. Although that was more often the older women, the Carrie Bradshaw Sex in the City's wannabe's stretching stretching their sexual wings.

Then she followed him, stalked him really, made it clear courtship was not necessary, "I'm ready to take you to my bed right now … and … I guarantee you will have a great time. and Dorothy from Kansas she wasn't. Okay, forget the nursed beer, maybe she was the take a body shot of Patron at the bar, and go into the ladies room stall and pound her with her skirt pulled up over her lily white ass, her ripped off wet panties in his pocket, her arms braced against the wall.

If nothing else, she had him guessing, which made her more interesting than most, maybe a couple of dates at least. The smile, that alone was worth a follow up call, even flowers. He didn't have enough money for flowers yet, and only his credit card allowed the beer or tequila as an inducement. The littl barista had him intrigued, she might even be bat shit crazy, but he had done crazy before, almost got knifed in an alley, from one of the body shot girls, but live by the sword, die by it, and he was young and invincible right? He thought of Jennie, her diagnosis, well maybe not.

"Gimme your phone," "Huh?" He wasn't even positive how to turn the damn thing on, he had been a bit too quick to follow Jennie's orders, and the phone he knew how to use was sitting in a fedex envelope, outbound, at the Four Season's. "No, I can't" That sounded lame, and questionable, but it again was the truth. She laughed, a wild laugh, maybe she was batshit crazy.

"Gimme your phone, asshole. I'm not gonna read your texts with your multitude of girlfriends or see how many right or left swipes you have on your multitude of hook up sites. I'm giving you my number." He laughed, a bit more nervously. "it isn't that, the fucking thing died, I forgot to charge it this morning."

Suddenly she grabbed his hand and pulled a sharpie from her pocket, it tickled a bit, but was sexy too. He started to read it as soon as he had his hand yet, he could barely make it out, "For the best fuck ever... and included her phone number". By the time he looked up, she was headed away. "Call me tomorrow afternoon … and maybe we'll hook up." He would call, she was the closest thing to a sure thing he knew right now that didn't cost $400 an hour, and he didn't pay for sex anyway. At least pay in the conventional sense.

He called after her, "Hey miss best fuck ever, how did I go from taking you back to your place to not even a good night kiss?" He watched her ass bounce away, he knew it was for him and appreciated the effort, he would definitely call. Oh! And if that's your beatin' off hand … I'd transfer that number to paper before you get it all lotiony. You won't get it from me again."

"Fuck, you used my right, God damn it, how did you know...hey, tomorrow, you might want to do your yoga early, stretch out, you know!" He laughed, he liked her. Somehow he hailed a taxi, and on the way home, he figured out how to turn on the phone. At least it was at full juice. He went to contacts:

First Name: Lauren
Last Name: Batshitcrazy
Her number

Notes: Talks big game, has a great ass and smile, we'll see if she can back up the talk

Rating TBD.

He got back and wrote up his notes, and had a beer. The desk girl from last night was still out, her kid must still be sick. That was okay, he'd be playing here all week, cue the rim shot. The next morning he got up and took a run, he was starting today without a hangover. He went into Katie's and had a latte, fresh squeezed OJ, and a bacon and egg muffin. He met Katie, the mother still looked good. He considered asking her if she knew she had a bat shit crazy daughter, who openly advertised herself as a great fuck, but the rosary hanging from her apron belt kept him on good behavior.

At 11:50 AM his lyft dropped him at the waterfront. Jennie was already there. "I thought I'd be early, I guess I was wrong." He walked over and gave her a hug, and handed her a togo coffee and smiled at the look on her face. "I didn't fuck her last night, but hopefully tomorrow...uh today is another day!" He smiled misquoting one of his favorite Scarlett O'Hara lines. "I typed up my notes from yesterday, it was a good start...would you prefer to stay here, see if they find the body, or should we take a walk?"

Pleasantries exchanged he got down into business. "So, let's start with your second kill, how old were you, how were you contracted, and how did it differ from the first? I'd like to go through you first couple of assignments today, understand how you began to build a business. Obviously add any elements you think are relevant? Oh, and sex...the bottom line is sex sells. I am not suggesting fiction...but the role of sex pulling you into this, or how you have used sex will be interesting to people. I thought today, we would cover your first few kills, and maybe tomorrow your childhood up through your first kill, maybe through your second and third?"

They were off and running and he hit record on his phone....

 

[PennySaver]

Katie's Exotic Cafe

It only took Katie a few seconds of studying the new patron to guess who he was. Her daughter had called her late the night before -- after the incident at the park -- to give her the routine, end-of-day update on the shop they ran together, and being the share everything no matter how personal type of mother-daughter pair, Lauren had told her mother all about the handsome, exotic fuck-boy she'd met and with whom she was contemplating sleeping.

Katie didn't much approve of how quickly her only child got mixed up with men; she didn't much approve of how she referred to them as fuck-boys either, but then Katie understood Lauren's need for fulfilling her sexual needs while keeping those needs parallel to but not intersecting with her more important needs regarding work, school, and family.

The two women had grown up in different worlds: Katie had been raised with the belief that her destiny was to find a man who would love, honor, and cherish her while giving her children, and by the time she'd turned 18, she was in fact married with a newborn son in her hands; while Lauren had been raised with the belief that she could do so much more with her life than just be a man's woman, and here she was 22 years old, about to graduate from U-Dub, and already accepted into an MBA program.

If her daughter wanted to fulfill her more basic, humanly needs with a man who looked like that, then Katie was all for it. To be totally honest, if her daughter didn't hook up with the man, Katie might. She smiled at the thought, laughing to herself. She thought to herself, Man like that'd have no interest in a woman as old as me when he could have my daughter instead … even if my body's hotter than hers.

After he'd ordered two hot drinks to go, paid, and was about to head out of the shop, Katie tossed a polite warning Manuel's way, "She's a good girl … Lauren … so … don't hurt her."

#######################​

"I thought I'd be early."

Even though she didn't turn his way or even make eye contact with him as he approached, Jennie had, of course, seen Manuel coming before he'd even gotten out of the Lyft.

"I guess I was wrong," he continued as he stepped close and hugged her.

She shot him an expression that was meant to show her disapproval for his familiarity, but knowing that it was just his way -- he liked to touch women, she'd determined -- she just let it go. Well, sort of; she moved quickly from him seeming to have a need to engage her and everyone else with physical contact to, "Did you remember condoms last night?"

"I didn't fuck her last night," he said as he handed over a badly needed latte, extra shots. "But hopefully tomorrow...uh today is another day!"

He told her about typing up his notes, asking, "Would you prefer to stay here, see if they find the body, or should we take a walk?"

Jennie looked out onto the work sight, which had become even more active since they'd met here just a day earlier. She knew they'd be finding her first victim's body any day soon now. She didn't want to be here when they did, knowing that they'd be visually recording onlookers; many killers returned to the scene of victim burials when they feared the corpses were about to be discovered.

"Let's walk," Jessie told him, turning and heading the opposite way from the day before. Manuel told her what he wanted from this day, and when he turned to the topic of sex with the bottom line is sex sells, she couldn't help but laugh. "If only you knew, Manny … if only you knew."

She'd glanced up at her ghost writer at the use of the nickname, just to see how he'd react, particularly after she'd told him he couldn't call her Jenn. She'd always like the name Manny. Her father had been a huge fan of Manny Acosta and had followed the pitcher's career through the American, Japanese, and then Mexican leagues. Jennie had actually met the ball player in 2015 when he was with his then-current team Charros de Jalisco, playing in the Mexican Pacific League. Manny had signed a baseball for Jennie to take home to her old man; she didn't tell the pitcher that her father had recently passed away.

When Manny asked her why she was in Guadalajara, Jennie only answered with work. She didn't tell him she was there to assassinate a vacationing Colombian cartel boss and his top Capitán.

"So … second kill," Jennie mused as they walked slowly through what was increasing becoming a more crowded park as they got away from the construction. She recalled some of the facts and told him, "Well, since you wanted to know about the involvement of sex in my work … you're in luck...

"It was 2007 … I was 17..."

Jennie hesitated a moment to let Manuel do the math, to find that she was now 30 =/- 1, depending upon when she'd been born and when she'd taken her second life. Most people didn't think she looked that old, while others thought they saw that age in the way she carried herself and spoke of the past.

"It had been over two years since I'd killed Dayton Lee," she went on, giving child rapist's name to Manuel for the first time. "I'd never forgotten what I did, and I'd always known I could do it again if I needed … but at the same time, I didn't consider myself a paid killer, nor did I honestly think I would do it again. It happened. It was over. I went back to class the day after I'd shot him in the eye socket and buried him … and life went on.

"Then the Masterson trial began," she went on. They chatted a moment about the trial -- Manuel recalled it, too -- and she explained her end of it. "Gloria Parker's mother had made a plea before camera's that someone kill Masterson for killing her daughters … the DA and police, of course, countered that by saying that justice would be found in the courts, not on the streets … yadda yadda yadda … you know the outcome … hung jury … second trial, again with no conviction. This was the first of only three contracts I ever solicited myself," she told the writer. "I made contact … told them I could kill Masterson, for $5,000."

Jennie reached out to take Manuel by the crooked elbow again, turning him more toward the water as she chuckled. "Five grand … I had no idea what I was doing. I could have asked for a lot more, but … what'd I know? Besides, I felt for the family. I thought they could use some closure, and … I thought killing that murderous, rapist bastard's death would give them that closure. Here's the ironic part..."

She stopped their progression and stared off toward the Sound at nothing in particular for a moment. Then, looking back to the writer with an expression of amazement, "The ironic part is … they didn't want me to kill him. They wanted me to torture him … like he had their little girls. Through an intermediary, they offered me $10,000 … to make it last … another ten grand if--"

Jennie laughed again, looked to the water, then looked to Manuel and told him, "$20,000 … if they could watch. If they could watch!"

She took him by the elbow again, and turned them on a path parallel to the water's edge. "Well, fuck … I didn't know how to make that happen … and I really didn't want to get the family mixed up in all of this. I mean … capturing a guy … taking him hostage and holding him while I … I do whatever I need to do while I have an audience?

"In the end, I tracked him for a couple of weeks, learned his routine … found out he was still hitting on teenage girls … I watched him take this girl to a motel … her name was Wendy Cooper, you can look it up … I watched him walk with her from the Riverside Mall to a motel a couple of clocks away … and when he came out to get in his car parked two blocks away, I let him see me walking nearby … he called to me … I smiled and walked his way … I was in a short, tight fitting sexy skirt and a tight tip with no bra … it was cold, and I could feel how swollen my nipples were … and I could see his eyes on my tits…

"As we came close together … I lifted my uncle's pistol, for which I'd made a silencer from a video I'd seen on the internet … YouTube maybe, I don't remember … was YouTube a regular thing in 2007...? Doesn't matter. The point is, I shot him, this time in the chest, which mostly just stunned the fuck out of him … but … as he clutched his chest and toppled about a bit, I put another shot in his neck, right above and a bit left of where his clavicles met … and he dropped. But … he wasn't dead..."

Jennie was again looking off toward nothing in particular again as she remembered that day. After a long moment, she continued, "I pulled one of those little camcorders, you know, the ones that fit in your palm … I pulled it out and recorded him … laying there … gasping … gagging. His chest … all over, from his neck to between the lapels of his jacket … down to the pockets … it was all turning red as blood pumped from the hole in his neck. It was..."

She drew a deep breath, exhaled, then went on with a solemn tone, "I recorded it all … for the family. I couldn't do this for them with them there … so … I did the next best thing. I recorded it … up until he took his last breath."

They walked on a few more steps before Jessie chuckled softly and squeezed Manuel's elbow. "I promised you sex, and all I gave you was a 17 year old girl with big nipples and a nice shake … sorry."

 

[Homerun2611]

He saw the look as he touched her, but he meant nothing by it, he was latin and a toucher, probably not a great trait in the #me too era. She seemed to get over it. They began to walk and she laughed at his line about "sex sells". "If only you knew, Manny … if only you knew." MANNY, that took him a bit aback, but he kept moving, hoping she didn't sense him bristling as they walked.

He wasn't even sure how it made him feel. One person before this moment, in his entire life, had called him Manny, and that was his mother, the single biggest and most positive influence in his life. A woman who he had loved dearly, and whose death had created a hole inside of him that had not been filled. He had been 16 at the time, his mother had been working two jobs to keep food on the table, while his father, partially disabled from his time in Afghanistan, and constantly in and out of VA hospitals with PTSD issues, barely could take care of himself.

It was his sophomore year in high school and she was trying to come up and see his state semifinal play-off soccer game. She had worked 2.5 shifts the day before to earn the day off, and on her way up, in her exhaustion, she had fallen asleep behind the wheel, and rear ended a braking semi at 65 MPH. She died while the jaws of life were trying to pull her from the burning car. He had never fully let go of the guilt of her death, and his completely unintentional causation. Yet, somehow hearing Jennie say it, sounded right. It was warm and friendly, particularly for her, and he liked the way it sounded coming from her. So Manny it would be, he could handle that.

They moved on. "So … second kill...Well, since you wanted to know about the involvement of sex in my work … you're in luck...It was 2007 … I was 17..." He chuckled, "Okay when I mentioned sex, I wasn't necessarily talking underage...but I told you, I won't judge." He also did the math, she was 29 or 30, he would have guessed 26, and could have passed for younger. Not that it mattered, age meant nothing to him. Certainly in not what he found attractive.

His mind went back to the morning, meeting Katy, vis-a-vis his reaction from the prior night in meeting Lauren. He had found both equally appealing, if not Katy more, but that was more a function of the taboo fantasy of potentially enjoying both the mother and the daughter as opposed to either one alone. He also was pretty sure, Katy, despite her warnings regarding her daughter's feelings, had similar interests. He had been careful in turning on the charm, as he didn't want to be seen as predatory. However, there was chemistry and mutual attraction. If that went anywhere, was TBD.

She gave him the name of her first hit and he took note, odds were that name was about to get very prominent in the news soon, if when they found the body they could identify it via DNA. He would research, but carefully as detectives would look suspiciously on recent queries into that name. The eye socket! He had heard about a lot of killings, but that thought did bring a wave of nausea, which luckily quickly passed."Were you actually aiming at the eye socket?...Yeah, I remember the Masterson trial, the death of the little girls, horrible....so, a second case of vigilante justice, do I sense a theme?"

He chuckled at the price negotiation and her naivety at the time. "Remember to come back to that sometime, I am interested in how over time, you determined the fair market pricing for your services?" He listened to the details, "Do you know if he did anything to the girl in the hotel room?" He listened to the rest play out. "Had you worked on your shooting, did you know where to shoot to create a prolonged death, or did you just get lucky?...Have others requested similar abilities to witness or increase the pain of a death?"

He was scattershooting a bit but he didn't want to lose these thoughts. He listened as she finished the story. "So for the first two you used yourself and the lure of underage sex as the bait and you obviously didn't mind them seeing you or knowing it was you who killed them." He didn't really have a question, he was just verifying facts so that he might see if there were consistencies or changs in her MO as they progressed forward. "Did you keep a copy of the tape for yourself?"

They finished, and he looked at his watch. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go through one more, I just need t make a quick call." He smiled, "I just thought since we were on the topic of sex with a hot young girl, I could finalize my evening plans."

He stepped away and pulled up Lauren's contact and dialed. "Hi, Miss Best Fuck Ever, I met your Mom today, she said not to hurt you. I told her I was more worried about what you might do to poor innocent me!" He laughed..."See I saved the number before I took care of business...but I am hoping to avoid dating my hand again tonight. So...can I take you to dinner later...I really want to find out if your game is as good as your trash talk...."

Five minutes later he came back to Jennie. "Shall we continue...hit number 3?" That would be the last discussion of the murders for a bit, next he hoped to get into a little bit of background on how she grew up.

 

[PennySaver]

"Were you actually aiming at the eye socket?

Jessie chuckled at Manuel's question. "Honestly...? I was aiming at his mouth. I'd read somewhere that it was one of the most painful and shocking places to be shot. I wanted this to hurt. Plus, it was only a .22, so, shooting him in the chest and hitting a rib or even if I hit his lung or something vital ... I might not have killed him … he might have run off or screamed for help. Honestly … considering I had no idea what I was doing … I got lucky that the shot went right through the socket and into his brain."

When Manuel asked about the vigilante justice theme, Jessie went quiet for a moment. She finally answered, "My first several kills were like that. Two rapists of underage girls … one rapist of underage boys … a murderer who escaped the jurisdiction … my first international contract, you could call it. There was, um … who was next...? A slum lord … he'd been indirectly responsible for a shit load of misery I won't get into right now. Others … I'll have to think through them later … make you a detail list maybe."

They spoke about money for a while, which wasn't very interesting as far as Jessie was concerned. Essentially, she'd just learned what people would or could pay and went with that.

Regarding Masterson, Jennie again went quiet. "They found her in the room, raped and beaten. She didn't die, though. And because Masterson was found on the street dead, they'd protected the girl from public exposure as soon as they realized she wasn't involved. And no, I won't give you her name, so don't ask. As far as learning to shoot better, yeah ... I'd been practicing, but only after I'd approached the family about Masterson. Remember, I hadn't considered myself a contract killer … not even after Masterson, to be honest. It wasn't until number three that I realized, one, that I was good at this … and, two, that I wanted to do it … like you said, as a public service."

They talked about how she'd used sex as a lure in the beginning, but Jennie didn't get into specifics, telling him they could talk about that later. She told him no, she hadn't kept a tape. "The family's got one, though … or, they did. They'd been about to leak it to the Press, until the D.A. threatened to charge them with conspiracy to commit murder. In the end, the tape the Prosecutor thought it better to just make it all go away. You can find it, Manny--"

She used the nickname without hesitation this time around because Manuel hadn't told her not to do so. "--everything about the case with a public record requests. It's all there."

When he spoke about needing to finalize plans for sex with a hot young girl, Jennie laughed. "Jesus … I guess all this talk of murder's got your blood a'boilin'."

When he got back, Manuel asked, "Shall we continue...hit number 3?"

"No," Jennie said softly but without hesitation. She gestured toward a pretzel stand, and they ceased the talk until they had that and -- from another stand -- cold drinks. They walked almost half a mile down the water and then inland a bit until they were in a park with wooden benches in the shade. After finishing her food, Jennie said, "I want to tell you where I went wrong. And no … I'm not talking about going wrong as in becoming a contract killer."

She told him some miscellaneous details about the next several years of her career, dropping some names and cases about which Manuel was familiar and others about which he was clueless but could research later.

"Then I got caught," she said, shrugging her shoulders as if someone had asked her what flavor ice cream she wanted while having no preference. "Not by the local cops … not by the Feds. At first I didn't know who he was, other than he gave me a fake name, Mister White."

Jennie told Manuel about one of the contracts she had taken out, explaining that she'd been working wholly domestically after a close run in with some of Mexico's most corrupt Federales. Late one night, coming out of a club … been drinking and flirting, and I let this guy pick me up … and barely out the door, a guy just walking down the sideway lifts a sound suppressed pistol and pops Mister Eager Cock in the forehead. Before I can react, I'm hit with a Taser to the back. I wake up three days later, groggy from several doses of something really good, to find out I've been recruited into an international crime syndicate."

She checked Manuel's expression and laughed. "I know. Sounds like something out of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I don't honestly know anything about superheroes or supervillains … that was just fun to say. Anyway, they had enough evidence about my hits for Law Enforcement from three countries to put me away forever … and at my age then, forever was a very long time.

"I went to work for them," Jennie continued, listing a dozen high profile and unknown, classified assassinations in which she'd participated or pulled off entirely on her own. "And it wasn't just assassinations. I'd put together a pretty long list of informants and moles in that time. I was getting paid to find people who would have preferred not to be found … sometimes killing them, sometimes not. I assisted an African coup … a South American coup … an Eastern European coup … and six months later, assisted in overthrowing the guy I'd helped install, too."

She gave him all the details she could remember; as proof of her involvement, Jennie told Manuel she had documents, photos, videos, and even some of the weapons and bloodstained clothing hidden away. "I didn't collect that kind of stuff when I was working on my own. I'd only kept it then because … well … I didn't know who these fuckers were … and as scary as I knew I was, they were scarier sometimes."

She told him more about her time working for the cabal, then told him the strangest part of the whole thing. "One day … all the phone numbers went dead. The safe houses were empty. Hell! One of them I went to, a 4 story building that had had 32 businesses in it. It was gone! Big fucking hole in the ground."

Jennie laughed, as if she was being told this tale by someone else for the first time. "The email addresses vanished from the internet. I knew a Dark Web hacker who was the best, and he looked for some sort of information on these guys. You know how they say that once its uploaded to the internet, it's there forever...? Wrong! It was as if these guys never existed."

She contemplated whether or not to tell Manuel that later she'd found one of her contacts and learned he was a CIA operative now working a network of legitimate Muslim men pretending to be Islamic Fundamentalists in cities all about America. No … not today … maybe she'd tell him later. To this day, Jennie still didn't know whether she'd been working for the interests of the United States, against those interests, or for a legitimate private criminal organization.

"You got a date to get to," Jennie said after they'd been walking, eating, drinking, and repeating all up and down the Seattle waterfront for almost 8 hours. She had flagged down a taxi for Manuel, telling him she had something to do herself, when she told him with a solemn tone, "Listen, I hate to tell you this, but … we're leaving Seattle day after tomorrow."

She saw the expression on his face and knew he was thinking about Miss Best Fuck Ever, without knowing that he'd called Lauren that, of course. "I'm sorry, but … I have something I need to show you, and ... well … we're on the clock. We'll be back … week … maybe two. Go have some fun with Little Miss Caffeinated … and I'll see you outside your hotel at 11pm Thursday night."

 

[Homerun2611]

Manuel had no idea what he was in for when he had begun the day asking about her second kill and progressing from there. It would be a bit of marathon and this was only day two. He wanted to summarize back to her ..."So you started righting the wrongs of society and helping victims get closure, and before you knew it, it was a part of you", but he resisted. It was way too early to draw conclusions, even hypothesis was over reaching, a rookie mistake. All he knew was the motivation for her, at least early on was more about righting a wrong than making money, if and when that flipped was still TBD.

He asked for a short break to hook up with Lauren regarding later. She teased him, "Jesus … I guess all this talk of murder's got your blood a'boilin'." He laughed, "I'm 25 and latina my blood's always boiling." He had connected with Lauren, she teased "that having had the night to think....she was still the best fuck ever" He laughed, asked if she wanted to bring her hot mom, told her to tell her mom he said that, and she asked him if he was trying to win another night with his hand. She was crazy and he liked it, they agreed to meet at Elliott Bay Brewing at 9:00 in West Seattle. It was her recommendation. He looked it up on Yelp, once he read that it is as comfortable and authentic as your oldest flannel shirt, he knew it was his kind of place.

Back with Jennie, he was ready to move on to number three, and she bluntly said no. The grabbed a pretzel, and he got so much shit when he asked for a thing of melted cheddar. Jennie looked at him like he was crazy and all he could do was laugh and flash his killer smile. "Jenniee, I'm from the midwest and I'm mexican, we put cheese on waffles!" The walked along eating their pretzels and sipping ice teas, and anyone who saw them would have thought they were young lovers, they were a spectacular looking couple, except of course, they weren't.

It was then shit got more serious. She rattled off kill after kill, some he knew well. "I guess you are some sort of serious badass aren't you." It was clear how little money really mattered to her, lots of people said that, few meant it when it came down to it. So what was the motivation to do this? Simply because she was good?

And then she stopped him in his tracks. "Then I got caught..Not by the local cops … not by the Feds. At first I didn't know who he was, other than he gave me a fake name, Mister White." It definitely hadn't been the cops or the feds or she would be in a federal prison, the question was if the truth was actually worse.

"Okay, let me get this straight, somehow you were set up in mexico, any idea how they found you, or if you were down there only because they had set it up?" He thought about it, "Anyway...they show up...have you involved in some of the highest profile kills and political plots in the last decade...and one day poof, they are gone?"

He shook his head. "Jennie, I interviewed some really bad dudes down in Columbia, and those guys were scared shitless by the Cabal. Are you planning that we won't release this book until after you die? I guess that is okay, but it does put a bit of a downer on my royalty component." He smiled, he was kidding, "Honestly, how do you know these guys are gone, they usually don't want the spotlight, this could even be the dark web...are you sure you want to go here, tell this part?"
t
Time had flown, but it was nearly 8:00, and Jennie kept her promise, "You got a date to get to," He felt bad, "Would you like to join us, she doesn't believe your my sister anyway, so when I French kiss you in front of her, we can put that behind us." He laughed, "Seriously, you want to grab a bite? You're welcome to join?" She gave him the news of heading out of town on Thursday. "I'll be at the hotel by noon tomorrow..." He winked, "...so if you want to come by and review my notes so far anytime after 4 should work, or Thursday?"

He went the hotel, quickly showered and changed into clean jeans a t-shirt and a leather jacket, and walked into Elliott Bay at exactly 9 PM. Lauren was there at the bar, chatting up the ginger bartender with the beard, blue eyes and freckles, or maybe he was chatting up her. Manuel entered from behind and slid his arm around her, clearly staking his claim. "Good thing I wasn't late..." he teased. He looked at the empty stool next to her, "...I hope this is intended for me."

It wasn't really a question, he flashed his smile, and let his eyes dance and then leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad you said yes!" He held up his hand where her message was only barely visible, and only if you looked really hard. "Just curious, is this a self proclaimed title, or is there some sort of certification process...because if there is...tell me more, tell me more." He liked how his heart raced, sitting next to her, and he sat down and ordered a tall blonde ale....

 

[PennySaver]

Jennie took care of some business regarding their departure from Seattle day after next, the made her way back to her hotel. She never just walked into her current location of residence; she had ever changing procedures that got her close enough to survey the perimeter without being seen.

Tonight, she took a cab to the hotel across the street and entered its front door instead; once inside, she reversed her coat and slipped on a stocking cap; and with dark sunglasses on, she exited the hotel's lounge entrance, crossed the street, and stood at the bus stop for fifteen minutes. It didn't take long to spot the two men sitting in a sedan across the street. She couldn't know whether or not they were there for her; they could have been anyone -- even civilians -- waiting for entirely different reasons. But being cautious was the reason Jennie was still alive and working.

She found a cheap motel instead, and as she soaked in a long bath, she contemplated the questions Manuel has asked her today...

"...any idea how they found you...?"

"Not a clue," she'd answered. "I have a suspicion that I hit someone they were watching … an associate or a mutual enemy."

"...or if you were down there only because they had set it up?"

"No, the contract had been legit. Very evil drug lord that no one liked. I would have hit him for free, but … as it happened … they were willing to pay me $100,000 for him ... another $60,000 for his Lieutenant. It was my biggest payday to date at that time.

"Are you planning that we won't release this book until after you die?"

"No, I want this book written before I die … and if possible, released. These people can't do anything more to me than they all ready have, and if they want to kill me, I say fine, waste the bullet on a dead women."

When he asked about his royalty, Jennie had a response that she thought surprised him. "I killed a lot of people over the course of my career, and most of them deserved to die. But … six of them didn't. I will leave power of attorney papers with you … and you will ensure that the children of these five men and one woman never want for anything. A book like this can easily make mid-eight figures for the subject … that's me … only … I don't need $50 million dollars 'cause I'm gonna be dead. After you get your cut, I want mine going to these families."

When he asked about the cabal, Jennie was firm again, even after he asked with concern, "Are you sure you want to go here, tell this part?"

"Yes … and if I die before it is written and you leave that out, my ghost will come back to kill you in the most violent of ways."

Jennie only laughed at the idea of joining Manuel on his date. They made their plans to meet the next day, and she sent him on his way

####################​

"Good thing I wasn't late..."

"You are late," Lauren corrected him as she saw the situation. "Don't you know that you never leave a lady sitting at the bar alone?"

They teased around about her claim to be the best he would ever have, then chatted about their days. Hers was the same as every day, of course: get up, study, go to school if it's a school day anyway, study more, then go to work. She listened to his, and at the end of it she asked with a sly smirk, "How's your sister's car, by the way? Didn't get towed, did it?"

Regarding her mother, Lauren talked a bit about their current and past relationships, about her father and mother, about the latter's struggle with the shop, and more. She added with a devilish smirk, "She's a babe still, and men -- dogs! like you -- are always hitting on her. But I have to warn you, everything I learned about how to fuck man I learned from her. She's better in bed than I am, but when I said I was the best fuck you would ever have, I said so knowing that you'd never lie with my mother."

They chatted and flirted some more before Lauren suddenly cut into the conversation with, "Let's go back to my place … it's just around the corner … and I'll see what I can do about proving myself to her.

 

[Homerun2611]

"You are late," Lauren corrected him as she saw the situation. "Don't you know that you never leave a lady sitting at the bar alone?"
Manuel was quick witted and had a response ready to fire back as to if it was really appropriate to address, the self admitted, "best fuck ever" as a lady? However, his sense of humor had left him rosy palmed more than once, and he wasn't that into masturbating. "Point well taken, I will quickly take my seat, and we should let big red their with the emerald eyes and wolfish smile, that the lady's guest has arrived."

They talked and flirted, he liked to flirt, it got the juices going. For a guy, he was a huge fan of floor play, his favorite sex was when verbal sparring and some heavy grinding, petting and kissing had both parties panting like rabid dogs, precum saturated briefs and wet panties and slick thighs that made the panties so clingy getting off, both parties were open to ripping.

"Yeah, I tended bar my senior year of undergrad and again in graduate school. My schedule was similar, school, study groups, study, go to work, rinse, spit and repeat. However, tending bar had a few more perks and opportunities late at night than I am guessing a coffeehouse closing at 9 does? Although given how we met, and where we are now, maybe I am mistaken?" He looked again at Red, who looked back at him scowling. Sorry big guy I get it, but you will have to find a different hot drunk chick later. He knew well, that wasn't too tough for a good looking guy, and all bartenders are blessed with the ability to maximize the opportunities at last call.

He enjoyed the conversation about her mother, "She's a babe still, and men -- dogs! like you -- are always hitting on her. But I have to warn you, everything I learned about how to fuck man I learned from her. She's better in bed than I am, but when I said I was the best fuck you would ever have, I said so knowing that you'd never lie with my mother."

He laughed, "Now how come you can get away with saying that, but if I said I understand, everything I know about fucking I learned from my sister, you would be all pissed off?" He thought and a wicked smiled crossed his face, "I am sorry, but that statement is just too hot, you have to tell me exactly how that schooling went....and how do you know she is better, really? I mean absent third party validation...say, by a handsome young latino with no preconceived opinion and a totally open mind...do you really know...or, in her lesson syllabus of fucking, did she ever cover threesomes?"

He was having great fun, she was funny, cute, with a nice hint of wicked, he hoped she was a wildcat in bed and he was the scratching pole. They were hopefully on the same track, "Let's go back to my place … it's just around the corner … and I'll see what I can do about proving myself to her." He laughed, raising his hand, "Check please...aw fuck it!" He slapped a twenty and a ten down on the bar, probably a 40% tip, but when the lady was offering he didn't want to dally

He put his arm around her as they walked out. It felt good there, riding just above that sexy ass, her waist was thin but toned, good core strength was vital to truly great fucking, hopefully she did kegels, he liked his big cock squeezed tight. Her place was more like 3/4 of a mile, but he didn't care, he was in great shape and he liked how she felt in his arms, it seemed she might like it too.

It was a three flat, and she had the top floor. He walked in and just to his right on the rickety, old hardwood floors was a lacy thong. Manuel picked it up, and faked like he was going to sniff them, and arched his brow, "Settle down tiger, those are my roommates and if you don't drop those this date is over." Manuel let them slip from his fingers and fall helplessly to the ground. He looked up, there was a tight winding staircase that lead to an upper loft, but from all he could see, there was only a single king sized brass bed. "A roommate, huh? Cozy."

He didn't judge, if she was bi great, he had only had two threesomes, both were one night only, but both had been outstanding! She was candles and opening a bottle of red wine, and he looked around. Over in the corner was an artist's easel, and very clearly on the canvas was the in process paining of a shaven pussy with an open, glistening labia. "So who is the aspiring Georgia O'Keefe, and who is the sexy model?"

She came over with two glasses of wine, they clicked glasses and took a sip, before she reached out, took his and and guided her to the couch. They barely sat down before he had leaned in and kissed her. The soft kiss, quickly transitioned to open mouths, and dancing tongues. They boke, panting. "I don't know about best fuck ever, but you are a great kisser..." He took her wine glass and along with his set them on the coffee table. The candle light looked incredible reflected in her eyes, and dancing on her clothes, this time as he leaned in to kiss her, he pressed her back and was slightly on top of her as now their bodies began intertwining and pressing, along with their lips and tongues...

 

[PennySaver]

"A roommate, huh?"

As Lauren headed toward the fridge and an already opened bottle of good wine, she looked back to see Manueal giving her loft apartment a quick once over. She already knew him enough to know that he was looking for hints about her sexual identity: photographs, forgotten coats, gifts and knickknacks, postcards, and more, if properly examined, could very easily tell a newcomer a lot about the state of their new object-of-lust's previous objects-of-lust.

Of course, the thong on the floor and the single bed upstairs were the most easily understood items.

Manuel added with a suggestive tone, Cozy,"

"Yes, it is," Lauren said, flashing the man a flirty smile. As she retrieved the wine and glasses, she explained, "They used to make wheels for suitcases and other such things here, back in the 60s. Before that … well, I don't know, actually … some sort of textiles, is all I know. It sat empty through most of the 80s … was used for storage by Meier & Frank in the 90s, then Starbucks in the oughts."

Lauren opened the fridge again, looking for snacks and finding a tray of fruity things she'd brought home from the shop the night before. She continued, "Friend of my mother … you know, the lady you'd like to have a threesome with but won't … this friend's a real estate developer. Mom and I helped with the remodel of this place a few years ago … Alicia, too, the roomie … and for it we get this place for just a grand a month."

She chuckled a bit at the phrase just a grand a month. Lauren could never afford that kind of rent money on her own; Alicia was actually paying it, while Lauren did her bit by paying the utilities … and other things.

When his wandering brought him before the large canvas of an up close and personal view of a woman's most personal feature, he asked, "So who is the aspiring Georgia O'Keefe, and who is the sexy model?"

Lauren handed over a glass of wine, smirking at him, "The jury is still out on whether Georgia was painting flowers or vaginas … asshole."

She clinked her glass against Manuel's, sipped, and added, "But, for the record … that is a pussy … my pussy."

Lauren took his hand, guided him to the couch, and in no time at all she was on her back with him between her parted thighs as they kissed passionately and ground their privates against one another. Manuel complimented her on her kissing, and Lauren told him with confidence, "That's the second best things I can do to you with my mouth."

They wasted no time in beginning to strip clothes from one another's bodies as they writhed about the couch. When they were finally naked and hands were groping and clutching wildly, Lauren demanded, "I want on top."

She manipulated Manuel into sitting in the middle of the couch and crawled into his lap. Reaching down between her thighs, she took hold of his raging hard-on, placed it at her already dripping wet pussy, and lowered her weight upon him. She grimaced, looking into Manuel's eyes as she explained, "I'm not a slut. I don't do this all the time … and … it's been a while..."

Lauren gave out a long, soft moan as the head of the writer's cock broke through her tightened, muscles … and suddenly … she was lowering and taking him inside her, ever so slowly. When she was finally sitting in his lap, her face contorted by the pain-pleasure of his size and her man-drought, Lauren engaged Manuel in another passionate kiss, then whispered, "If you cum … before I cum … it'll be the last time you cum in me."

 

[Homerun2611]

He smiled at her response, "The jury is still out on whether Georgia was painting flowers or vaginas … asshole." He was pleased that she was more than just some really cute, actually fucking hot, young girl, she was smart with at least some appreciation of culture and the arts. He didn't even care if it didn't extend beyond the quasi erotic. "Aren't they the same, is there any flower so sweet or with a more enticing bouquet than that whch bloom between a pretty girl's legs?" He knew, at least for him, the most beautiful of roses paled in comparison.

"Yours? Well then, your cunt is spectacular, I can't wait to enjoy it, my lips to yours." From the first moment their making out was intense, if he had hoped she was a wildcat, he got his wish, and they took little time pawing and tearing each other's clothes off. Once naked, he liked to take a brief moment, and look at his to be conquest, smell the roses as it were. He arched his brow, "I was right, you are really fucking hott, and your cunt is not the only thing on you that is spectacular."

They had already been moaning, and grinding, breathing heavily, the kissing delicious, he complimented her, and he loved her response, "That's the second best things I can do to you with my mouth." Fuckkk! He thought, but composed himself, always witty and charming, disarmingly so, "Oh praytell, feel free to demonstrate...such talents should be explored and enjoyed." But there was too much urgency, maybe he would get a post coital cleansing, or a prelude to round two, God let there be a round two!

Instead they pawed, grinded and fo a moment he feared, that he might not enter her church. That fear was soon abated, "I want on top." He smiled as she went to straddle him, and he reached around and playfully spanked her ass. "No argument here sexy, I love cowgirl...giddy up, and don't worry about sparing the spurs or the lash!" If she looked down, she saw fire, he was completely into her, and so wanted, and needed, to fuck!

she took hold of his raging hard-on, placed it at her already dripping wet pussy, and lowered her weight upon him. She grimaced, looking into Manuel's eyes as she explained, "I'm not a slut. I don't do this all the time … and … it's been a while..." She moved so gently and gingerly, he was big, but not rail splitting, and so he believed her, and she did become even more appealing and he only wanted her more. "I don't judge, but I do like tight, and you baby are perfect, go slow and let me stretch you...my only warning, I may destroy you for any other man!" He winked and thrust up slowly as she descended, impaling herself.

Lauren gave out a long, soft moan as the head of the writer's cock broke through her tightened, muscles … and suddenly … she was lowering and taking him inside her, ever so slowly. When she was finally sitting in his lap, her face contorted by the pain-pleasure of his size and her man-drought, Lauren engaged Manuel in another passionate kiss, then whispered, "If you cum … before I cum … it'll be the last time you cum in me."

He gripped her hips, and slowly started moving her up and down. "Challenge accepted, if I do, you can strip my manhood card and castrate me...I pride myself on coital orgasms, no customer left unsatisfied." He winked but she was already grinding, moving and he felt her juices washing over his cock, the lubrication necessary for their fantastic journey. She was petite, but her pussy was tight and her stomach muscles strong, her legs were meant for bounding, and he only encouraged her on. "Come on baby, the best you got, I can take, ride me raw, and ride me hard."

He liked dirty talk, but she was not a talker, but she was a moaner and a screamer, and as he started to pound on top of him, her moans and screams were loud, if there were cobwebs in that loft she was shivering their timbers. "Fuck me Lauren, pound that hot little pussy...mark me, take me as yours!"

Maybe it had been a while for her, but it was like riding a bike, just a bike with an incredibly satisfying bananna seat. "You like that big cock baby...is my girl nice and filled...air tight...Fuck me Lauren, FUCK ME!!!! She was bobbing her smallish but perfect tits, bouncing and he forced himself up, pulling her in, and latched on to her sweet teet. Mouth on, he suckled like a horny baby, tonging and licking with abandon, but he felt her back arch, her moan loud, and her talons dig into his back.

It wasn't a great fucking if the didn't mark, him, claw marks of passion were his badge of honor and he loved the sweet pain of her claws! Now in a sitting position they drove their bodies into each other like the pistons of a 12 cylinder Ferrari redlining at 6,000 RPM, burning rubber into the turn, just barely keeping two wheels on the Monte Carlo pavement. No this was more like Le Mans, yes they were going fast, grinding hard, but he was built for endurance, and he only hoped her pussy was open all night.

Licking and sucking, became hard sucking and finally his teeth bit ever so lightly but firmly into her nipple. She screamed and drove harder, and harder...shit, he focused, he had to...or he was gonna cum...fuck she was good...maybe she was the best fuck ever...her body seemed beyond the point of control...shit what did he need to do more of to make this little vixen cum...and oh my God, her mom was better?!?!

 

[PennySaver]

Lauren loved this position when a better-than-average cock was involved! Manuel fit that requirement, with his girth filling her fully and his length reaching depths her more recent lovers hadn't. She knew she was going to cum quickly, which was good for Manuel, as she truly meant what she'd said about who got their gift first. So many men looked at women at nothing more than a warm, wet place to put and empty their cock and didn't show a real desire to ensure that their partner also enjoyed the encounter.

Manuel was doing his part to ensure Lauren climaxed, though, but as the romp pushed her closer and closer to explosion she found herself becoming totally distracted by his need to engage her verbally.

"You like that big cock baby...is my girl nice and filled...air tight..." he went on. "Fuck me Lauren, FUCK ME!!!!

Suddenly, Lauren clamped one hand to the back of Manuel's skull and the other over his mouth. Without missing a beat in their intensifying fuck, she said through her cries, "Shut … the … fuck … up … and I'll … cum!"

Lauren barely got the last word out, though, as she felt the imminent explosion rising seemingly exponentially. She reached both hands to his shoulders and back again, dropped her head back, arched her tits into Manuel's face, and -- after holding a deep breath for what seemed an eternity -- let it out in a loud cry of ecstasy. She didn't know it at the time -- not that she would have cared -- but four of her modestly long nails were literally drawing blood from Manuel's flesh as she grasped him tightly for support.

Ironically, as amazing as all this was and as obvious it would seem that any woman would want this kind of pleasure to continue for hours to come, Lauren had always been a once-is-enough kind of girl. Sitting in Manuel's lap, pressing hard against his crotch to drive him as deeply as possible to extend the ecstasy, Lauren was lost in the joy for an unknown -- to her, at least -- amount of time...

…but as soon as she realized she was coming down from that Everest-high peak, she blurted out toward the ceiling, "Cum in me! Cum in me now!"

 

[Homerun2611]

He knew he was getting her closer, she was riding and moaning, bucking like he was a bronco, yet the seven second ride was now several minutes in the making and they only fucked harder and harder, Their heat was strong, and their bodies glistened with sweat. He loved that and watched as the beats of sweat rand down her body as she threw her head back. Why the fuck wasn't she cumming, he was so ready to fill her...but he paid heed to her threat.

He had been biting her nipples hard as she grabbed him, but now her hand covered his mouth, "Shut … the … fuck … up … and I'll … cum!" He wanted to laugh out loud. Most women loved it, him letting them know that he wanted their inner slut, the one they kept deep inside, were afraid to acknowledge, but made them so wonderfully and irresistibly feminine.

Cum, she did, hard and loud. He felt her draw blood from his back as her body convulsed enjoying him. She fucked like a rabbit, and he loved it. Her hot, greedy little cunt, grabbing and feeding, reaping and enjoying his ivory shaft. Watching her cum might have been enough, but the way she squeezed, him, milked him...and then her command, like his cum was her heroine, "Cum in me! Cum in me now!" His legs tensed, and he drove he fleshy spear hard into the air, and he fired his shot, many shots, rope after rope unleashed into the womb of the pussy that was just cumming down from her high.

She collapsed into his arms, and he knew she was a one and doner. Disappointing, and while she was a great, great fuck...no girl without staying power could really call herself the best fuck ever...but she was good, damned good. He found himself smiling, wondering if mom, after all she had at least endured childbirth, might be more multi orgasmic and blessed with greater endurance than her sexy daughter?

She collapsed and they kissed, they even petted and for a moment he hoped he might have underestimated her, but he hadn't. She was good, he would happily fuck her again, but he liked a bit more of a throw...to wake up the next morning almost gasping, his body sucked dry of bodily fluids.

He also knew that if he were to stay, it was here, on this couch they would sleep. Her draped over him, her pussy leaking down his thigh, her body a sexy, sexy blanket. She fell to sleep purring, and he pulled the throw blanket on the back of the sofa on top of them. He was asleep very soon after, and it was nearly 4 AM, when something awoke him...

 

[PennySaver]

Earlier in the evening:

Madeline Kay was courtside during the impromptu game between the University of Washington Huskies and the Oregon Ducks that had been thrown as a fundraiser for victims of the recent 7.5 Earthquake that had struck Washington's Olympic peninsula. She'd been the Spirit Squad's leader for three years until she blew out an ankle -- ironically trail bike riding in the Mount Rainier Forest -- and was relegated to Program Coordinator and Routine Choreographer.

Mostly, though, these days she just flaunted her delicious body before the rich donors and special guests invited to such games because they had obscene gobs of money to donate … and did so in much greater numbers when they were ogling little flirts like Maddie and the other Pom Pom Girls who were more often than not ready, willing, and able to teach them a new and very special acrobatic routine … after they'd signed their name in the check's lower right hand corner.

Now:

Tonight, though, Maddie had managed to finish a successful evening without some rich fuck trading his rich for a fuck. She'd been invited to an after game party at a Northwestern microbrew owned by one of the big donors, and after that had been given a limo ride home with the promise of coming back to visit him one night for a threesome with the man and his wife … who had actually been the one to request the tryst.

Arriving home at her apartment, Maddie found her roommate asleep on the couch with a strange but beautiful man wrapped around her; a quilt exposed just enough of each of their bodies to verify beyond any doubt that they were both still naked after a very satisfying fuck.

Of course, Maddie knew her roommate and new that for her the event had likely ended at a single and yet a very explosive orgasm. The fact that the man clutching an arm between her young, firm breasts awoke from the sound of her padding now barefoot across the hard wood floors told Maddie that he probably could have used a bit more exhaustive treatment than what he'd gotten.

"Come with me," she whispered from over the back of the couch as she curled a long finger at Manuel in invitation. She flipped the quilt off his bum to get a look at his cock as it laid against Lauren's buttocks, smiled, and told him, "Don't bother dressing. You'd only be wasting your time."

A soft, second female voice said with a tired tone, "Maddie, you could at least ask to play with my toys before you take them."

Maddie leaned over the couch, kissed her not-now-sleeping roomie on the cheek, and asked in a whisper, "Would you like to come up and join us, honey?"

Lauren turned her head upwards and -- with her eyes still closed -- licked her lips invitingly. Maddie took the hint and engaged her in a deep, erotic kiss … right over the top of the stranger beneath her. When their mouths separated, Lauren rolled back to her original position, pulled the quilt over her a bit more in preparation for losing the warm body behind her, and responded, "No, go ahead. Just … don't break'im. I might want to play with him again later."

Maddie smiled at Lauren, then to Manuel. She stood tall and in a swift, sleek movement pulled her tiny top from her body, revealing wonderfully firm, all natural B+ cup titties. She tossed the top onto the couch as she turned and headed for the spiral staircase, calling over her shoulder, "Are you coming?"

 

[Homerun2611]

For the second time in three days, Manuel found himself awoken by the sight of a smokin hot brunette, looking down at him. At first, in his state of barely conscious, he thought it might be Jennie, luckily he hadn't said as much, although this new sexy young thing might not have cared, or even asked if Jennie might want to join. It was surreal, some sort of soft porn dream suddenly coming to life.

For a moment he just looked and enjoyed the view. He was cumming to enjoy Seattle more and more each day, this city did not have the reputation it was proving itself to deserve. While he had no reason to think what was about to happen would, he sensed a very different vibe from this morning's wake up call. While Jennie had been pure business, this one had a wicked glint in her eye, and seemed to be enjoying the view of Lauren and himself. She bent over the couch and made the offer, "Come with me," and Manuel started to stir purely based on reflex.

This was a predicament, maybe, one bed suggested these two were not normal roommates, well maybe in a women's prison, yet, he liked Lauren, he still held out some misguided hope for a mother/daughter threesome, and now, they had a cheerleader to boot. Should he ask his early lover, if she minded if he stayed for the double feature, but moments later he realized he needn't have worried. In fact the exchange was hot and suggested so much, more than anything he wanted to be the meat in any sort of sandwich these women wanted to share.

He chuckled at Lauren's response, "Maddie, you could at least ask to play with my toys before you take them." Her toy, he thought. He had no problem with the objectification, in fact he quite liked it, let him be her toy, their toy, and play with him as they chose. He was willing, wanting and able. The kiss and words spoken later, suggested perhaps Lauren wasn't completely done, just resting, so when Maddie pulled off her top, revealing a sleek and sculpted torso and deliciously, perky tits and hard nipples, his cock was already hard and ready for action. She was headed for the staircase, "Are you coming?" She asked, and Manuel laughed getting up, "No, I am a gentleman, ask Lauren, first you come, then I do...then you and so on..." As he got up he kissed Lauren goodbye, "Come up any time...does your mother know about this part too?"

He bounded after her like an eager puppy, and somehow in a move of supreme grace and eroticism, by the time he was up the stairs, Maddie was naked too and waiting. She looked down and saw his spear standing at near 50 degrees and smiled, "At least you came ready!" and with that launched herself onto him, with the athleticism of a former gymnast and dancer. Wrapping her arms around him and her legs, as they spun and he slammed her into the wall. Two fuckings and he still hadn't seen the bed.

Their first kiss occurred as his cock found her opening and he drove inside of her. It was hot, physical and LOUD, "For fucksake, if you're going to be that loud, maybe I will join you?" They heard from below, but paid little heed as the first fuck was hard, and incredibly intense. Pound, pound, pound, BANG, BANG, BANG he drove Maddie's body into the wall and she yelled for more and harder, until it was a miracle her back wasn't broken and she concussed. It was fucking great, and he was dripping with sweat after what was only five or 8 minutes of incredible fucking, and mutually intense orgasms.

As he slid her down, she pushed his ass back on the bed, and climbed between his legs, slathering a messy hot blow job on his cock and balls, deep throating, tossing his salad, she was i a hurry to refurbish his hard cock and she did so with the skills of a sexual medic. Hard again, she slid off, crawled on all fours, "Make me your bitch, stud...hear me howl." Fuck! Role play, dirty, they did doggy, missionary, and one move where she did the splits, one heel up on his shoulder as he enjoyed her tight slit.

Maddie was flexible, strong and insatiable, and after three marathons of extended windsprints, they were done, covered with sweat and juices, cum everywhere. The loft had more pheromones and endorphins flowing than a whore house during the layover of the 7th fleet. "Jesus Maddie you are incredible." She laughed, "Not too bad yourself, not many guys can keep up with me, it is why I like girls, short refractories. She got up, barely winded, "I'm hitting the shower, but thanks for the workout!"

Manuel was in awe, a smile from ear to ear, his legs rubbery, when he heard Lauren...