Chapter 1
"The name is Steele, S-T-E-E-L-E, Room 516. Get my bill ready!"
Near the baseboard he spotted a cockroach as the phone rang dead in his ear. He started a movement towards the bug, remembered the gummy residue that would be on his shoe if he crushed it, and merely tapped the floor with his toe. The roach skittered under the baseboard.
Steele replaced the instrument and turned to inspect the vague shadow on his face of a recently completed shave.
His image in the mirror was the epitome of his name--a lean, lithe body matched the angular, almost cruel features of an otherwise handsome face. A heavily browed, jutting ridge of forehead shadowed glacial blue eyes that seemed to look at nothing but see everything.
The eyes, in their never-hurried, lazy movement, spotted a few missed bristles on the underside of his chin. He scraped them off with a dry razor and moved to the edge of the bed.
Without unbuttoning a meticulously pressed white on white shirt he pulled it over his head and carefully creased the sides over his hips, so that the material would lie perfectly flat across his back and belly.
With the same care he threaded a woven belt through the loops and buckled it. He nodded, as he always did, in satisfaction, as the belt tong slipped through the only hole in the belt. His belts needed only one hole; Steele had neither gained nor lost a pound of weight in the last twenty of his forty years.
Next came the shoulder holster made of expensive, soft leather. It, too, had been made for his body twenty years before, and Steele cared for it like any good tradesman cares for his tools. It fit in place across his back, over his shoulders, and under his arm like a well- oiled gear fits a finely tuned machine. The tie was pre-knotted, as were the other ten resting in polyethylene bags in the open suitcase on the bed. He only knotted his ties once, perfectly, and then wore them until they were ready for discard. Slipping it under his collar, he pulled the knot just short of his neck so it would hang just beneath the open collar in purposeful casualness.
Through the whole process the eyes had never stopped moving, as though they were the antennae and sense of smell for a wary, wild animal. The movement was never hurried, the pupils rolling in slow, calculated arcs around the room, digesting everything.
They moved the same way to the telephone when it hammered the silence of the room from its position by the bed. The eyes seemed to scan first the area around the bed, then, sensing safety, they programed the body into swift, fluid movement.
"Yes?" The voice was low, not tight, but controlled. "Steele?"
"Yes."
"Danny. Lassiter's here. I think he's hooked."
"You think?"
"All right, I know. He's sniffin' at me like I was some kind of whore in heat."
"Does he have the belt on him?"
"I'm pretty sure he does. He hasn't had a chance to go anywhere else or see anyone since his last collection. It was right across the street."
"Half an hour," Steele said. "You'll be waiting in the room?" Steele sensed an edge of fear in the boy's voice. It belied the other's years and set the eyes, again, to thoughtful movement. "Isn't that the plan?" Steele asked, a sudden hardness again entering and filling the tone in his voice. "Yeah. I just... "
"Isn't that the way I set it up?"
"Sure, Steele, I was just... "
"Half an hour."
Steele broke the connection, waited a few seconds, and re-dialed. One comer of his mouth turned up in the semblance of a smile as the eyes stopped, turned, inward, and communicated thought.
Crow panted, his heavy breathing causing a slight whistle as it escaped through his nostrils. His eyes were tightly shut in concentration as sweat dripped from his florid face. The whistle got steadily louder, its rhythm matching the quickening splats of his belly, as his hips jerked in spastic thrusts and lurches.
He positioned his body, stiffened the long, corded blocks of his thighs and thrust forward with all the strength in his hips. His meat sunk farther and farther into her gooey cunt.
Beneath him she grunted under the strain but urged him on. "Oh, shit, yes! What a cock! You're splitting my cunt with the fucking thing, lover... but I love it... I love it good!"
Again he tensed his muscles and thrust. This time her pussy was more lathered with sweet juices. He slid in clear to the hilt. He felt his bone hit hers. He felt his wiry pubic hairs against her soft ones, their mutual blackness forming a huge hidden harbor for his throbbing, angry cock.
She lifted her legs even higher until her knees straddled his shoulders on either side of his head. A scream erupted from her throat, mixed with pain and pleasure as he took advantage of her position on his very next thrust and savagely rammed his tool to its very hilt into her cunt.
His balls slapped with a hypnotic rhythm against her asshole as he fucked in and out of her cunt in long plunging, driving strokes. He raised up with his with was straight, elbows locked, and looked down between them. She followed his gaze and moaned with joy when she could see his thick cock come nearly free of her cunt and then ram home again.
It felt as though he was ripping her apart as the head drove up, up, up into the soft channel between her throbbing thighs.
"Is it good, baby?" he growled down at her.,"Is my cock good to your pussy?"
"Yeah, honey... only do it a little easier, huh? You're tearin' me apart, lover."
"Fuck you," he hissed, and pounded ever harder into her pussy.
He placed both his hands under her hips. The flabby muscles in his legs and butt corded as his body raised up to the tip of his toes. Perspiration ran freely from all his pores as he mounted all his strength into his hips, and then drove them forward, pulling her body to his as he thrust.
The full length of his cock seared through her cunt in one driving stroke. Instinctively, she screamed again as she felt his hot cock-head ream and drive itself into her belly without warning. She bit her Up until blood could be seen running across her chin to form a thin line of red on her neck.
He withdrew his hips from between her thighs until just the flaming red tip of his prick still rested in her cunt. Then with a growl that began clear down in his belly he rammed his hips forward again, plunging his monstrous prick completely to the hilt in her fat cunt.
Again she screamed as she felt the insides of her belly invaded with such power. The full throbbing length of his spear sank cruelly into her snatch. He could hear the wet, flat smack as his belly thudded against her crotch.
His body dropped down heavily on hers. His chest mashed her melonlike tits tightly, spreading them in huge mounds of flesh across the rest of her chest.
"There, cunt," he said, his face close to hers, contorted with anger and passion. "You wanted cock. You got cock." She only smiled and nodded.
It inflamed him further. He reached back, grabbing her ankles and pushing them brutally back over her shoulders until she was rolled up into a tight round ball of fucking flesh beneath him. Her knees were pushed back tightly over her shoulders against the mattress. The wide-spread split between her legs was now completely open to his ravaging cock.
Now, instead of backing away from him, her hips started responding to his cruelty. Her cunt flowed copiously around his cock. His thrusting hips assumed a driving, pounding rhythm she matched with her own.
The glint in her eyes said yes, instead of stop. It drove him crazy, because his body was saying the same to him. He had wanted to hurt her with his cock, but he could tell she was loving it. His thrust became longer and harder until it seemed that he would have to be splitting her cunt in half.
And then it happened. For him but not for her.
With a low groan he completed his third orgasm in as many hours. The body beneath him sensed his cessation but continued its own bucking gyrations. He rolled away from her and lit the stub of a cigar.
"Oh, baby... baby," she said, still arching her body towards another mound of flesh that was no longer there. "I wasn't done yet, baby," she said. "I didn't get it yet."
"I was," he said.
Three times in three hours, he thought, and he was pretty sure he could probably get his dick up again. He knew he could if she were a little younger and a lot better-looking. The fact that her body was a mountain of quivering flesh didn't bother him. Fat never bothered him. He never noticed it. In fact, most of the time, he liked it. He enjoyed rolling his cock, when it was good and hard, around in the fatty rolls of a big woman's soft flesh.
He rolled his head over and looked at her. The face smiled back at him stupidly. Her cheeks resembled pink banks of black rivers as the streaked and diluted mascara wound its way down her face. Her cheeks had once sported dimples, but they were now obscured by obesity. The ebony roots in the blonde hair matched the thatch that was nearly hidden between her thighs.
Crow looked down across his own roll, rising like a soft white-capped mound over the black hair that lay like a rug on his massive chest. The entire center of his body had become a monument to the fat-inducing properties of beer.
He took the saliva-soaked cigar from his mouth and scanned the once-toned muscles in his arm that now hung like skin-coated jelly.
What difference? he thought. When you're young, you use muscles. When you get older, you get smarter--you use a gun. It's quicker and easier.
"Honeeee," she said, her voice a nasal whine in his ear.
"Yeah?"
She had rolled up on one elbow. One massive, blue-veined boob had flopped to rest on the side of his face. It felt like a sponge that had been left too long to cure. He guessed that if a finger were pushed into it, the indentation it made would remain there forever.
"Ya know, honey, I usually don't go all night for just twenty."
"That's all right," he replied. "I usually don't fuck hookers."
"Awww, lover. That ain't no nice thing to say. You know I always like to fuck you. It's just that you're so damn rough. You'd like to rip me apart with that big cock a' yours. You know I don't al'ays charge. I tole ya. I wouldn't even charge you now, or no more, 'ceptin'... " He let her rattle on, closing her voice out of his mind. Even though he was paying her, and had paid her the last two times, Crow didn't like to be reminded of it. He liked to think that he had charmed her to his room. And sometimes it was even better if he thought about forcing them up to his room to fuck. If he did have to pay her for a fuck, he liked to think it resulted in more of a bargain to him than anyone else could get out of her.
He turned his head away from her and dragged deeply on the cigar, letting his mind wander to more pleasant thoughts--killing Lassiter.
He remembered when the fat little faggot had nailed him and Steele. It had been almost five years. They had both done four years and two months on a three to five. All the time they were in they had thought about only two things--getting out and then killing Lassiter.
The fact that only ten more months would have gotten them out without a parole hanging over them made very little difference. They had broken parole anyway, contemptuously, only two days after they had been released.
When they found that Lassiter had gone up in the organization while they were away, it only served to sweeten the end result. Lassiter had graduated from being a runner to collecting from all the runners. That meant that on any given night he might have upwards to fifty grand wrapped around his middle when he hit the Gay Blade before going home or making his drop.
Crow hadn't wanted to bring the kid, Danny, into it but he had to agree with Steele that it was the easiest way. Danny was a good-looking kid, an ail-American type with long black hair, and a well-muscled, athletic, young body. Lassiter wouldn't be able to resist him.
Her whining voice came back to him. "... an' times just ain't been good. But if you an' me was to team up, honey... "
"Honey," he said.
"Yeah?" she replied, glad to regain his attention. "Shut your fat face before I shove one of your tits into it!"
She started to protest, but the telephone came to life, interrupting her. "Yeah?"
"Crow?"
"Yeah."
"Half an hour."
The phone went dead in his ear. He replaced the receiver and rolled from the bed. Collecting his crumpled clothes from a pile on the floor, he pulled them on carelessly and moved to the bathroom.
"Where you goin', lover?"
"Out!"
"But you said we was goin' to spend all night, honey. Look, I was just foolin' you, you know that. Don't you know that, lover?"
"I got business."
He opened the medicine cabinet and removed a razor, folding tooth brush, a traveling tube of tooth paste, and a tiny bottle of after-shave. All these he stored in various pockets of his suit jacket.
As he passed the bed, moving towards the door, she grabbed his arm.
"Please stay, lover. I ain't had no one like you in the longest time." He looked down between her mammoth, swaying boobs, to the bloated thighs. Her cunt was hardly discernible under the flabby rolls.
He wanted her again, one last time. I could make her blow me, he thought, one last time. No, he'd better not. Number four would take time. Steele would be waiting and the timing to Lassiter's room would be important. And keeping Steele waiting, or even worse, fouling up the Iceman's plans would be dangerous, very dangerous. A man could get himself very dead fucking up just the smallest fragment of one of Steele's elaborate plans.
"Let go," he said, willing the blood to run the other way from the hardening cock in his pants.
"You'll be back, won't ya?"
"Let go!"
"I had to start chargin', honey. They was gonna kick me outta this two-bit dump if somethin' wasn't paid on the rent soon... " Suddenly there was a wedge of cold steel in her belly. It nearly pushed the fat at the front inward to meet the spiny bone at the rear.
She grunted and looked down.
"You know what that is?" he said.
"Y... ye... yeah," she stammered.
"Then let go my arm or I'm gonna stick it up your ass and blow your brains back into your stupid, fucking head."
Danny moved from the pay phone and strolled back into the smoke-filled, sweet-scented room. Eyebrows lifted on turning heads, following his progress through the crowded tables. As he moved, his nostrils flared in repulsion, sensing more scents rising from the men than he could reasonably imagine in a ladies' powder room.
It wasn't his idea of an ideal job. Danny had never hustled another man before. But lonesome, little old ladies had been scarce that year and five grand just for fingering a guy was good bread. He hadn't told Steele that Lassiter had shown up with a little weasel faced gay named Warren. He didn't figure it made much difference anyway. He also hadn't mentioned that it looked like Lassiter was planning on taking Warren up to the room along with them.
He had spent every night for a week in the bar making himself available but never quite swinging. The previous evening he had finally gotten close to Lassiter. They had talked until the bar closed and Lassiter made a proposition for the following evening. "I usually don't pay for rough trade," he had told Danny, coyly drawing out the syllables of each word, "but in your case, my dear, I think I'll make an exception. From your looks, I think I could grow to love your meat."
"You won't be sorry," Danny had said, posing his body in the carefully practiced way he used so successfully on so many women.
Looking at Lassiter, it was hard for Danny to believe what he had been told about the man. He was overweight, with fat jowls hovering under a paunchy face. Short, hairy fingers drummed on the table. Now and then the metallic clink of one of the heavy rings he wore-on nearly every finger resounded clearly across the table above the conversational din in the room.
"But don't underestimate him," Steele had said, "he's killed ten like you on orders, and ten more for his own enjoyment."
Warren was speaking as he ran his hand along Danny's inner thigh. "I hope you don't mind Lassiter bringing me along. I mean, when he told me what a hunk you were, love... well, I just couldn't resist."
Danny could hardly hold his leg still under the tight jeans. He wanted to lift it and jam his foot into the man's balls. The thought of five thousand dollars was a great calming influence. He held his leg in check, making Warren think the shaking was part of his rabid anticipation.
"Warren loves to watch," Lassiter said, his lisp again jarring Danny, shaking his belief that the man could in any way be near the calculating killer that Steele had spoken about.
"Well, I'm kind of an exhibitionist anyway," Danny said, throwing his head back and laughing loudly.
"Shall we go?" Lassiter said, rising. "All these faggots make me nervous."
Danny Nelson had been a stud since the age of twelve, but he didn't know it until he was fifteen and his sister had caught him beating his meat in bed.
There were seven children in his family. They ranged in age from Carrie, his nineteen- year-old sister, down to baby Tom, his two-year-old brother. His father had disappeared right after the last child had been born and they hadn't seen him since.
The family was poor. There were three rooms and all six children and the mother were jammed into them, morning, noon, and night. Danny's mother tried for a while to raise them with respect for the law and a belief that things would eventually get better. But after a year of near-starvation poverty she gave up and started doing tricks in cheap hotels with men in order to pay the rent and provide some food for her family.
Danny never suspected this of his mother, even though he knew that his older sister, Carrie, sometimes went with men for a price. Rather than condemn her for such a thing, he envied her for the wild sex she was able to have while he could only dream about it.
He often thought of his beautiful sister fucking men as he lay in his bed at night jacking off.
He would ease the covers from his naked body in the dark and fill his hand with a huge hard-on. He would close his eyes and dream of her naked body with the white, wide thighs and the huge tits jutting proudly from her ample chest.
In the quiet darkness of the room he would run his fist up and down the long length of his fat cock until it throbbed and beat with a life all its own. Then he would sigh with relief as thick streams of gooey, white cum would pour from its huge head in streams and soak the front of his belly.
That was how Carrie found him one night when she returned home from her job early and turned the light on in the room.
He lay in the bed, his naked, muscular, young body thrusting his rigid cock up and down in his hand, when light flooded the room and Carrie stood in the doorway looking at him with amazement in her eyes.
She looked long and hard at his rigid cock, smiled and then said, "Jesus Christ."
She turned off the light and Danny could hear her moving towards the bed. He could also hear the rustling of her clothing as if she were removing it.
He was embarrassed because she had caught him. But he was also, for some strange reason, excited because she had seen his cock fully hard and aroused, standing proudly up from his hairy groin.
Before he knew it, she had slid into bed with him. Instantly he realized that she was stark naked. Her full, fleshy tits raked hotly across his chest and he could feel the hot, hard bumps of her nipples as they touched his.
"I didn't know you had grown up so fast, Danny," she whispered in his ear as she removed his hand from his cock and replaced it with her own.
Her touch thrilled him and he hunched upward with his hips, filling her fist with his throbbing meat.
"God, you're soft, Carrie," he sighed, feeling her thighs and hips press against his in the bed. "You're just like I dreamed you'd be."
"You want to stick your cock in my pussy, Danny?" she asked. "You want to fuck me?"
"Shit, yes... I'd love to fuck you."
"You've never fucked a girl yet, have you, Danny?"
"No."
She giggled. "I'm gonna get my brother's cherry," she said, squeezing his cock in her hand and making the head bulge with heated blood. "You're big, Danny. You've got a beautiful cock."
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, running the tips of her fingers down into the crevice between the cheeks of his ass. "You're a real cock... a stud, little brother. I'll tell you how much so, and what we can do with you, after you fuck me... after you fuck me real good."
She pushed his hand between her soft, full thighs until he could feel the furry mass of her soft cunt against his sweating palm.
He gasped when he felt the full extent of what he was about to have. "Your body is soft, beautiful," he said, rubbing at the cushiness of her cunt, spreading the lips, caressing the inner flesh with his hungry fingers.
"That's it, Danny," she cooed. "Feel me good... touch me... stick your fingers inside my cunt. Do anything you want to do."
He stroked the clitoris and the huge puffed lips of her cunt. As he slipped a finger into her hole, her hips jerked in spasms. Her cunt muscles milked his fingers, urging it farther and farther into her hole.
"You want me to fuck you now?" he growled. "You want my cock in you now?"
"Yes, brother-of-mine. I want it. I want all of your cock inside me," she said in return, grabbing his head between her hands and kissing him violently, probing the inner softness of his mouth with her hot tongue. "Give me your sweet, big, fat dick!"
Unable to resist the musky smell of her sweet cunt, he decided to take a taste of it. He pulled her legs up over his shoulders and burrowed into the damp gorge of her pussy with his heated face. The hairy cunt-lips encases his mouth, his nose, his, chin, as he dipped his tongue into the slit.
She spread her thighs wider, pulling his head into her snatch with her hands, urging him deeper and deeper into her hot, damp box.
He gasped as his tongue lapped at the swollen knob of her clitoris. He swirled it around and around the gash, licking eagerly at the honeyed juices he found dripping from her puffy gash.
She moaned deeply in her chest as he continued to lap her cunt. She wanted his cock, and she wanted it right now. Her hips jerked wildly under the sweet assault of his tongue and mouth. She fumbled for his cock, wanting it, wanting to feel it, fist it, and pound it.
He understood and moved his body around until his knees were astraddle her head and his cock was brushing her hot lips. With her tongue and hand, she worked the foreskin back and forth across the huge knob. She began to lick the tender skin on the head of his throbbing cock, skinning it back, then licking and savoring the sweet taste of its dripping hardness. She loved it, reveled in the hotness, the hardness of his prick. She fisted the staff and began to suck harder and harder on the huge swollen knob that seemed to fill the cavity of her hot mouth.
She came, her hot juices flooding his tongue and his mouth. It prompted his own come. Hot jism, salty and warm, flooded her throat and, in turn, her belly.
Somehow, even with no experience, Danny seemed to know just what to do. He knew without asking or experimenting just where he should put his hands, where he should place and push his cock, how he should bring his beautiful young sister right to the very peak of hot readiness.
Danny was a natural lover.
Still they didn't stop. Gushes of cum had flowed from the hard tip of his cock but still it was hard and throbbing. It wanted more and she was more than prepared to give it everything.
"Put it in me!" she breathed heavily in his ear as she raked his back with her long nails, dragging his ass around, into position above the vee of her writhing, gushing cunt. "Stick your big cock into my cunt and fuck me good!"
Suddenly it was his hot flesh against hers, his coarse pubic hair against her soft beaver. His hot cock ramming, gliding, sliding in and out of her hole, his hard meat rubbing inside of her cunt. She ground her pubic bone against his in pure delight.
"Oh, Carrie, Carrie!" he gasped. "What a fuck. What a fuck you are."
Their hips swung together in a long arc, frantic now, their loins slapped noisily together, knees bent, legs flailing, bone against bone, flesh against flesh.
"Oh, it's good, Danny," she gasped, "your cock is good in me. Pound it. Fuck the hell out of my sweet pussy!"
"Oh, shit!" he cried, muffling his growling voice in the soft fragrance of her throat. "I'm comin'! I'm comin' like a goddamn geyser!"
A final surge of stroking and then hot cream poured into her cunt, spurting again and again while he lunged against her in releasing thrusts of power.
She also came. She was lost in her own lustful explosion, jerking, bucking, draining him while spurting forth with her own juices.
Slowly they quivered into solitude. She rolled him from her, moved down his body and encased his failing cock in her mouth. With her tongue and the soft inner skin of her sucking cheeks she cleaned the combined mixture of her own juices and his cum from the softening dick.
Then she crawled back up his body and Wound around him in preparation for sleep.
"What did you mean, Carrie, when you said we'd find something for me?"
She laughed lightly. "You know the woman I work for... Mrs. Adler?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I do a lot more than just write her letters for her. You'll see. Tomorrow you'll go to work with me and I'll show you."
The next day Danny found out just what Mrs. Adler was all about. She was a strikingly beautiful and wealthy woman who looked twenty years younger than her actual age of fifty.
Her husband had died two years before, leaving her a great deal of money, and a rabid thirst for unbridled sex which she used her money for. She had no qualms about sex in any way, shape or form with men, women, girls, and boys.
Danny was only in the house two hours before he found his cock imbedded to his balls in Mrs. Adler's plump ass while the lady herself sucked with wild abandon on the damp sweetness of Carrie's cunt.
He was hired as a houseboy and in the following year learned every facet of sex ever devised. He also learned that he was indeed a stud with a cock much larger than a normal man's and the staying power of a bull.
He devised means of getting more and more money from the old lady for his favors. It became so easy to do that he reasoned he could do it with other women.
One night, after a particularly long session of wild sex, he calmly went through the woman's purse, her closets, and her safe and extracted all the money he could find.
He then kissed his sister good-bye and struck out on his own.
For four years he was successful. He lived off several women and traveled practically the whole world. But then it got boring. It also became frustrating to just fuck the old women. He longed for some sweet, young pussy. The women he worked for were jealous and very possessive. He eventually realized that he would need money of his own if he were ever io gain any independence so he could do what he wanted when he wanted, with whomever he wanted.
That was when he met Steele and Crow.