Business Cruise

"You ain't bringing me no luck," he said. "Go sun yourself or something."

"Up on top," Nick said. "On top of the bridge." He pointed to where there was a ladder ascending the side of the bridge house above the main salon.

So, I went up there. Nick handed me a towel and gave me a wink as I passed him. I hadn't been stretched out on my back on the towel for long, before he joined me. He stretched his body out alongside mine, cupped my neck with one hand, bringing my mouth to his for a deep kiss, and ran the other hand down my body. I shuddered, still keyed up over the danger I was in, but wanting him. He took one of my hands and ran it under the waistband of his Speedo. He was hard and huge—both long and thick. He pulled the waistband of the Speedo down under his balls, and we continued to kiss as I stroked his cock.

He groaned and rolled over on top of me. As he did so, I spread my legs, rolled up my pelvis, hooked my ankles on his calves and, pushing my hands underneath his Speedo in back, pushed the suit to below his buttocks and palmed his meaty butt cheeks. He had no trouble moving the string of the bikini out of my crack and slowly pushed himself inside me. He held deep inside me, waiting for me to heat up and beg for him, which I did.

"You're a stud," I whimpered. "Move it inside me. Fuck me."

We rocked against each other as he slow fucked me.

I arched my back and opened my mouth to cry out as he ejaculated—almost simultaneously with me doing so—but he pressed his hand over my mouth to stifle my voice. His ejaculation went on for several seconds, coming in waves, each wave sending me higher over the moon. Like Salvo before him, he was barebacking me. Like with Salvo, it was much more exciting and satisfying for me to feel his releases inside me.

Without taking his hand away from my mouth, he lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, "Be quiet. Don't let them know I'm here. I'll get you out of this. Trust me. I'm a cop. I'll get you out of this somehow. I'm on top of you because someone could look up here and this is a better excuse then admitting what I've told you."

"I hoped you were on top of me—inside me—because you wanted to be," I murmured.

"That too," he answered.

I lay there, under him, in his firm embrace, absorbing what he said, hope flooding in. I felt him going hard again, and when he moved his mouth to mine this time, I opened entirely to him, taking his tongue inside sucking on it, as I felt him engorging.

"Fuck me. Fuck me again," I whispered when we came out of the kiss. "It'll be better, easier knowing you aren't one of them."

He gave a low laugh. "You are a needy little whore, aren't you?" And then, when I didn't answer, he said, "You. Fuck yourself. Ride it yourself."

He pulled away from me and turned on his back. I straddled his pelvis, facing his bent legs, grasping his knees, and rode his cock. After a few minutes of this, he pushed me down onto my belly, twisted around without dislodging his cock, and fucked down into my hole from the reverse, him grasping my ankles and me grasping his. He finished me with him on his back and me on top of him, looking up at the sky, while he held my arms trapped in a full Nelson and laced his legs around mine, spreading and lifting them as he fucked up into my channel.

At dinner, the six of them huddled over a coffee table in the salon, eating pizza the apprentice thug had cooked, and talking once again about who they needed to whack off to feel safe in doing their rackets in Jersey. I perched at the bar, still concerned that they were freely discussing all of this in front of me.

There was more posturing and arguing that night than there had been out on deck in the afternoon. That afternoon when they got close to a boiling point, someone got a strike on his fishing pole and the argument was stifled. There was no fishing pause this evening. The apparent lieutenant, Mario, was arguing for whacking the whole rival family, including women and children. Tony argued that this would bring unknown extended family over from New York and they'd be in a full-scale war then. Mario countered with, "And we'll blow them all away too."

Nick stepped in to suggest they all simmer down and talk about it again in the morning, before sailing on up the Delaware Canal to New Jersey. No one mentioned taking the yacht—or me—back to Baltimore, and I was getting the impression that they'd stolen the yacht and had no intention of going back to where Angelo was slumped over in the front seat of his vintage Cadillac convertible with two bullet holes in his head. He undoubtedly had been found by now anyway, although the fireworks in the inner harbor would not have started yet.

"I think tomorrow is a good time to resume this discussion," Tony said, standing, giving an evil-eye look at Mario and another look at Salvo, which no one present seemed to miss. "Time for sleep," he said. He motioned to me when he'd said that.

"Sleep?" the apprentice thug blurted out, which got him a dirty look too, but not the menacing look Tony had given. The other men in the room couldn't help sniggering, and Tony's gaze swept the gathering. I sensed that there was some sort of power struggle going on here—but I didn't want to think about the dynamics in this gang any more than I had to. I meekly followed Tony down to the lower level and into the largest of the bedroom cabins. It was well appointed and dominated by a free-standing queen-sized bed.

The bed pretty much filled the space. I understood what it was for and why we were here. I knelt between Tony's legs as he sat, dressed only in his cigar and his gun holster, and sucked his cock. He was small, almost unseeable in the thick salt-and-pepper thatch of his pubic hair when flaccid, but he thickened and lengthened a bit as I took the cock in my mouth, rolled it around, got the balls in there too, and gave him a hummer.

I rode him, facing him, then, thankfully without having a cigar in the way, when I dipped down to kiss him and then further down to dig his nipples out of this chest thatch with my tongue and give them suck. His grunts and groans told me he was having a good time. When he came, barebacking as the others had, I rolled off him and he gathered me into his side in an embrace that had my head tucked into his neck. He was snoring almost immediately. I could have reached over and taken his gun, I suppose, but a strap was secured over it. I didn't know what to do with a gun, and I was quite sure he did. I realized it would be crazy to try anything. Maybe I would have felt differently before Nick told me he was a cop and would get me out of this. I had stopped looking for escape routes after he'd done that. I hadn't even given another look at the small motorboat hanging off the stern of the yacht. I wouldn't know how to drive a motorboat either. If I got out of this mess, I told myself there were some things I would have to learn in life. I'd known that prostitution was a dangerous occupation before I'd gotten myself into this mess.

Tony woke, turned me away from him onto my side, pulled me close and presented his cock, hard again in my butt crack. I rolled up my buttocks to him and reached back, held him in position, and took him inside me. He was long enough to rub against my prostate, so it was good enough for me to give him the response he wanted. He reached around with a beefy paw and stroked my cock. I moved against the cock enough to give him the friction he needed to come again and he went back to sleep, going flaccid, and thus virtually disappearing, inside me.

The gun shot temporarily deafened me. It had hit right behind my head—into Tony's head. Blood spurted all over the place. With a scream, I instinctive rolled away from Tony's body. Mario was standing on the other side of the bed, the smoking gun in his hand. The thug apprentice, the sixth guy whose name I never heard, and Nick poured into the cabin.

"Throw him over the side," Mario growled, and the apprentice and Noname came to the bed and hustled up Tony's body between them. Nick stood in the doorway, looking now at Mario and then at me, indecisive. But then he turned and followed the other two, lugging the body, out into the corridor.

Mario, giving me an evil smile—the blood lust expression on his face no different from the one that had been on Salvo's face after he'd shot Angelo, stalked around the bed and toward me, where I was plastered, naked, against the bulkhead. He was holding his gun at the ready, pointed down rather than at me, but only a minor adjustment would be required to raise it.

"No, no, please," I whimpered. "I won't tell anyone." That was a nonsensical answer, I knew, but I could think of nothing else to plead my case. I sank to the deck of the cabin, making myself as small a target as I could, knowing even then that that too was just silliness.

I closed my eyes, half wondering if I'd even hear the next gunshot. But a few seconds went by without a change. So I opened my eyes. He was standing there, smiling, his dick out now. He was stroking it. He dropped the gun on the bed and moved to me, needing only a step and a half to be there. He reached down, pulled me up, pressed me up to the wall, and insinuated his pelvis into my crotch. He felt his hard on pressing at my lower belly.

"What was Tony's is now mine," he muttered. "Straddle my hips."

Whimpering, but realizing that I had a few more moments to live, I climbed his hips with my legs, and locked my fists behind his neck. Reaching down, he positioned his cock and then cruelly thrust up inside me, as I arched my back and cried out.

He fucked him hard, fast, deep, vigorously, and, like a dog in heat, I opened to him, took the full measure of him, and moved my pelvis with his. When he took my mouth in his and brutally kissed me, I opened to him and sucked on his tongue. When he released my mouth, I moved my face down to his chest, teased his nipples out of his chest hair, and sucked on them. He banged me hard and I came for him. And then he came in me and let me sink to the floor.

He laughed, took one step away to reach for the gun that he'd dropped on the bed. "No hard feelings, guy. You're a great lay, but you know what I gotta do."

Yes, of course I knew. It's just that none of this could be real. None of this could be happening to me.

Nick, standing in the door of the cabin, blew him away with three shots. Mario gave a look of surprise and dropped like a rock on the deck beside me. He lifeless eyes looked into mine, seemingly forming the questions, "What?" and "Why?"

Giving me a nod, Nick disappeared from the doorway. I heard a flurry of shots and then there he was again. I watched as he picked up a lighter from next to the cigar sitting in a tray on the built-in dresser and lit up the bedspread and the curtains on the portholes.

"Come with me," he commanded, and I sluggishly stood and followed him out of the door. He dipped into two other cabins to light up material and then we were on the deck.

The bodies of Salvo, the apprentice thug, and Noname were lying about on the deck. I stood, numb and unable to take it all in as Nick winched down the motorboat at the stern of the yacht and the flames built up strength in the superstructure behind me.

* * * *

"What? We've run out of gas?" I asked stupidly. The motor had stopped and we were wallowing a good distance away from the burning yacht, but not close to shore yet.

"No. We can continue in a bit. But I'm hard for you. I can't resist you."

I looked into his eyes. The flames from the yacht lit the area up enough that I could see his expression. Blood lust. The same sexual high from killing men that I'd seen in Salvo's eyes and then Mario's.

Nick reached out for me, and turned me away from him. We both were on our knees in the center of the motorboat. He embraced me around the belly with one arm and his other hand cupped my chin and pulled my head back him so that we were cheek to cheek. He had placed his gun on the deck in front of me. He ran his fingers into my hair and pulled my face around to his, his grip painful enough for me that I grimaced as he took my mouth with his. His dick was hard, thick, and long, pressing into and running up the small of my back. I raised my buttocks so that the shaft descended and moved into position. It was not so much that he entered me as that I pulled him inside me.

But then he cruelly thrust upward inside me, burying himself deep. I pulled away from the kiss and cried out. He gripped me close, painfully, though, and fucked me hard, brutally. He pulled my head to the side painfully with a yank of my hair and buried his teeth into the side of my throat. He was drawing blood and sucking it out of me.

He was fucking me hard. He released his hold on my throat, but not on my hair. He pushed me down onto all fours on the deck, my hands down as well as my knees, and he mounted my ass at a higher angle, crouching over me now on his feet, thrusting harder, deeper. His hand was buried in my hair, cruelly bowing my torso back to him. I was staring at the burning yacht and crying out for mercy, while not really wanting it. I was getting the fuck of my life.

My hand touched the hand grip of his gun.

Was he really a cop, saving me? Or was he just another thug, feeding me a line, and preparing to plug me and toss me overboard when he was done with me?

A cop or a thug? The lady or the tiger? I moved my hand over the pistol grip.

Decisions, decisions.

I could feel him coming close to exploding. I certainly was going to jack off any second now.

Decisions, decisions.