Petty Crime Don't Pay

She didn't move.

With a flourish, he stood straight up and twirled away, took a few steps, and completed his spin to face us.

"What, then, do you think happened?" His voice rose on the last word, as though he were a schoolteacher asking a student for a friendly explanation of a minor indiscretion.

"I really don't know." Sam's voice was barely audible.

"Well, it's a fact. It's short. How do you make it up? How do you make it right?"

"I don't know." Her voice now signed resigned.

"Legs," he barked, motioning towards me, "on your feet."

________________________________________

ONE HOUR EARLIER

Unclear what was happening I hurriedly followed Sam. She was clearly agitated, but there was still a whiff of excitement.

"What's going on," I gasped, breathless from her demeanor more than being winded.

"I'll tell you on the way." And she darted off down the road heading, it seemed, towards the hotel.

I could take just one stride to two of Sam's as we weaved through the bodies lazily swaying along the sidewalks. Sam huffed and puffed.

Over the next several hundred yards Sam stunned me with a hurried and breathless story about her mother. Jasmine—Jazzy or Jaz—was an amazing character in my mind given the years I'd known of her eccentricities, exuberance, and experiences. Already a worthy subject for her own Lifetime Movie it turned out—as much as I could discern—that she had landed herself in a significant hole due to gambling. Though I had questions, many questions that I couldn't spit out as we hurried through the streets, there had been threatening phone calls and ominous knocks at the door. Jaz had finally 'fessed up but she and Sam were at a loss on how to handle the situation.

Piecing together the fragmented sentences, Sam had discovered that the group of guys she flirted with at the bar had somehow come into a lot of cash—illicitly—and were in the process of deciding how to divide it. They were also staying at our hotel. We were going to get there first.

And do what? I was merely a passenger in whatever crazy, almost assuredly ill-considered plan she might have.

As we arrived at the door of the hotel she finally stopped, took several deep breaths, straightened her hair, and adjusted her shirt, pulling it wide at her chest, fully exposing her bikini top.

"What the..."

"Look. I know. Just follow along. Please, Gem, this can change everything for me and mom."

"But what are you..."

"You'll see. Just hang in the lobby, wait for me, my signal or..." her voice trailed off as clear evidence that this idea was being made up as she went along, with little definition.

We entered the hotel to find the lobby largely deserted. One gentleman at the counter was thanking Chris, folding his bill, and pulling his roller-bag toward the exit. Sam walked casually, sashaying you might say, towards Chris whose face lit up as he saw her approach. I cast my eyes down and took on the awkward lingering pose of the anonymous bystander.

Sam leaned over the desk again and within a few seconds I could hear her giggling, Chris chattering, stammering, and more of Sam speaking a million miles an hour in a hushed voice. I browsed every sign on the wall, each vendor postcard on the table nearby, straining to hear but trying not to watch, all the while wracking my brain to figure out what was going on inside Sam's. No luck there.

It felt like an age, but was just about two minutes before I heard a "pssst..." sound and I looked over towards Sam. She was smiling through gritted teeth and twitching her head, motioning to follow her. Where? As I took a single step towards her Sam turned, skipped in an excited manner and floated towards a gap in the counter that led to an opening leading into the back. Chris was in the doorway already and as Sam reached him and grabbed his hand she looked back at me, now motioning with more urgency for me to get there.

"Just stay here and keep watch," she whispered.

"Keep..."

Sam ducked inside, pulling Chris with here. Keep watch for what? Do what? The lobby was quiet now, but...so many questions. I slipped inside the doorway so as not to appear as though I was standing guard at it, even though I was, and looked around to see Sam a few feet away on her knees in front of Chris, pulling at his pants belt.

Chris glanced over, his face flushed bright red, and seeing me looking their direction shifted his gaze to the top of Sam's head as she tugged down his boxer shorts, letting his already stiff cock flop out. I averted my eyes back to the lobby. It was quiet. I hoped he would be quick, as dirty as that made me feel.

Like staring at the proverbial car wreck, I couldn't help myself and looked back. Sam had popped her boobs out of the bikini top and had Chris's dick in her mouth and was working it furiously. He didn't know what to do with himself, at one moment looking down at her, then throwing his head back, mouth agape. An older couple shuffled into the lobby from the outside right as Chris yelped audibly. They looked right at me and all I could do was smile and nod and hope they assumed I was supposed to be stood there awkwardly. The gentleman tugged slightly at the brim of his cap in a respectful acknowledgment, but they continued past the desk to the elevator. I heaved a sigh of relief and without thinking looked back at Sam who had her nose nestled in the tuft of pubic hair sitting atop Chris's shaft. His arms were pinned like Spiderman to the wall behind him, head aloft, eyes tightly closed. Sam pulled back, taking a moment to catch her breath, but keeping her hand working away as she beamed a broad smile towards me.

All I could do was smirk, shake my head, and return attention to the lobby. A few seconds later Chris's breathing picked up pace. Sam worked her looped finger and thumb along the shaft as her mouth flicked over his head. Instinctively Chris's hands planted themselves on Sam's head and he gasped, quite loudly this time, forcing my attention back to the empty lobby. He grunted and I looked back as Sam's head stopped moving but her hand maintained momentum. Chris shuddered and his hips thrust forward, pushing Sam back and causing her to splutter momentarily before regaining her balance and taking his load.

Seconds later I looked back to see Chris hastily pulling up his pants, digging in his pocket, and handing something to Sam who snatched it away and hustled towards me, wiping the sides of her mouth as she did.

"Come on," she hissed again as she breezed past me into the lobby. I glanced back at Chris. He finished up fastening his belt, his hands clearly trembling. Our eyes locked momentarily as he cocked his head to one side and shrugged. I turned and followed Sam who was frantically bashing at the elevator button as though that would make it arrive quicker.

I really had no idea what to say as we entered the elevator and she pressed the top floor button several times.

"Doing what you gotta do," was all she said. I had nothing.

On the top floor Sam hustled towards a double door. A suite, obviously, and pulled a key card from her pocket, waving it in my face. She raised an eyebrow and smiled. Courtesy of Chris.

There was a beep, the light turned green, and she pushed open the heavy wooden door.

"Nice suite. Now mind telling me what in the fucking fuck we're doing here?" I snarled, my patience at being so in the dark starting to stretch thin.

"We're looking for a bag, satchel, I don't know, envelope...something that holds money."

Oh my god. My heart sank, but my pulse raced.

"Quick, before they get back, start looking." Sam started flying around the room, pulling at cushions, opening drawers, and then disappeared into one of the bedrooms. I didn't even know where to begin, so I just scanned the room and slowly looked around.

"Nothing," Sam gnashed as she reappeared, before darting into another room, "get looking, would ya? We don't have a lot of time."

It jolted my attention, for sure, and while my head darted around the room it still wasn't clear what I was looking for. But I upped my pace, looking under couch cushions, inside a closet, feeling across the top shelf that at least I could reach. I opened a cupboard door and found the mini-bar where I was sorely tempted to stop and take some liquid lubrication to calm my nerves. Next to it was a small safe.

"What if it's in the safe?" I called out.

"Ahhh, fuck. Fuck it. Fuck. Fuck. Didn't think of that," was the muffled response from Sam. I pointlessly pulled at the door and, of course, it was locked. I kept looking.

Moments later Sam squealed.

"I got it. I got it," and came dashing out of the far room, stuffing a yellow envelope into her purse.

Without another word she grabbed my hand, twirling me around as she pulled me towards the door. She was surprisingly strong when she was hauling ass from a burglary.

Again, after some 20-plus presses of the elevator button it dinged and the doors slowly opened. We were both breathing rapidly, sweating, looking harried.

"We're going straight to the airport," Sam blurted out.

"Like hell. My stuff."

"It's taken care of."

"What the fuck are you talking about Sam? SAM!" I yelled, turned and faced her, towering over her as aggressively as I ever had.

"Chris is taking care of it. Don't worry. We just need to leave."

I was dumbfounded and didn't know where to start as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

"Be cool, be cool, okay?" said Sam.

I followed her lead, hustling calmly through the lobby.

Right as we were approaching the door it opened and there was the group of guys from the bar...from the room.

"Hey, ladies," blurted one, "we wondered where you disappeared to, thought you said we were all set to party for a while...where you heading?"

I looked at Sam and nervously gulped down the warm evening air. My mind was crammed to the brim with a bucket full of nothing. Feeling a need to fill the silent void as the eyes of the group in front of us darted from Sam to me and then back again it was a huge relief to hear Sam start to speak, calmly and confidently.

"Sorry, we won't be a minute, just got to run a quick errand. We'll be up in, what...?" Sam looked at me. I instinctively shrugged. "Five minutes? No more. Be right there. Fix us a couple of drinks, will you?"

It was perfect. Sounded genuine and composed. I was impressed by her capacity for deception.

We squeezed past them to the exit, Sam sliding her fingers and nails softly and seductively across the arms of two of the guys. She was en fuego. We both looked back as the door swung closed to see them chuckling to themselves as they headed to the elevator.

Sam's demeanor switched in a flash. Her face defined determination, perhaps tainted by a hue of terror. Her head swiveled as though possessed as she looked up and down the street.

"This way," she suddenly whispered, and jogged a few yards to where I could see Chris, himself scanning the street.

"It's busy out here," he said, "no cabs, none. I haven't seen one go by. Look, I can't wait here any longer. You got what we agreed?"

Still baffled, I watched Sam dig in her purse and pull a wad of bills from the yellow envelope and hand them to Chris who didn't wait another second before dashing back inside the hotel.

"Fuck."

Sam took over Chris's search up and down the street, hoping to catch sight of a cab with its light on. Nothing, and there were many other potential customers also trying to achieve the same goal. Though I was quite sure their cause wasn't quite as desperate as ours.

Sam started pacing. Whatever limited plan was currently deep in motion had suddenly hit a roadblock. A potentially serious one.

"I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do," she wailed, and I had no bright ideas of my own. After just one futile attempt to wave down a cab Sam made a command decision.

"C'mon, we have to get out of here. Now."

She ran through traffic across the street towards the beach. It took me a second, possibly a crucially fatal second, to realize what was happening and follow. As I set off, dodging slow-moving cars I looked behind and caught through the haze of the hotel's glass doors our "friends" from the bar and hotel getting out of the elevator and jogging towards the exit, towards us. I picked up the pace and could barely blurt out "they're coming" as I grabbed Sam and leapt down the steps onto the sand of the beach. And then, yelling "come on" started sprinting.

________________________________________

It was a command clearly directed at me. In other circumstances I may not have minded being referred to as "legs." Here and now I was nervous.

"I think we need a little entertainment, don't you?" the man said, addressing nobody in particular. "A little music, maybe? Maestro, would you do the honors?" and he flicked his head at one of the lackeys who, smiling broadly, jumped up and hit a few buttons on the stereo, starting some fairly soft beats. I barely even noticed what it was; it was just noise adding to the sounds, thoughts, ideas cascading around my head.

"Some dancing, I think."

This was clearly directed at me.

"Up here." He patted on the small table in front of the couch, a pedestal from which to view and likely demean me.

"No, no, no," Sam blurted with an attempt at authority. "It's not her fault, this was all me, all my idea. She didn't have any part in it at all. I'll pay you back however you want, no need to involve her. Please. Please."

"Let's face it," the man said calmly, "who's to blame, who's idea, it really doesn't matter, does it? I mean, you're not really in much of a bargaining position right now, are you?"

I started to sway my hips. I appreciated Sam's efforts; it might mitigate some of the ass-kicking I would be giving her if we got out of this, but I couldn't argue with his point: we were in no position to bargain.

"I never did like this flowery thing," the man said, turning his attention back to me, "so I think you should lose it." He paused a moment, then adjusted from the suggestive into an authoritative tone. "Take it off."

I looked down at Sam who was on the verge of tears and dropped her head. But I had no other play. May as well get this over with as efficiently as possible. I pulled my top over my head.

"Damn!"

"Woah!"

"Oooph...nice!"

All things considered, the reaction could have been worse. Not that it was particularly encouraging, or I'd put it on my resume, at least they weren't jeering. I tried to keep moving and turned a little to at least occupy the attention of the lead guy, hoping it might make them go easy. I definitely got his attention.

"And the shorts..."

I stepped off the small table for fear of breaking my neck if I tried this maneuver up there and the guy dropped himself into a large chair opposite the couch, his eyes remaining on me...not my eyes, of course. Not that I was getting into this, and really didn't want to suggest enthusiasm, but I slowly unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, letting them hang on my hips for a few moments while I raised my hands above my head and swayed in front of him.

I let them drop to the ground and easily stepped out of them. Here I was, in my g-string, in front of strangers. Sam...we're going to have words.

"And the rest..."

I half expected to hear Sam butt in at this point, but nothing. I'd already resigned myself to the situation (and wanted to check on Sam) so I hooked my fingers under the band and turned my ass to him. I was a little shocked. Sam was already fully naked—I'd been so caught up in my own situation I hadn't heard her undress—sat on the lap of the guy who had previously had his arm around her, with another sucking at her breast. I kept my legs straight and bent down, pulling my underwear, providing a view to my target.

Before I could turn back around the head man, my guy, brushed past me and, unbuckling his belt, sat on the other end of the couch to where Sam was being molested. He began to stroke at a cock that was getting bigger with each second. He wasn't subtle about where he was looking, either, fixing his eyes firmly between my legs. I waited a second and he looked up, pausing to stare at the girls, before finally looking at my face, nodding slightly, and then spreading his own legs.

"You know what to do."

I took a step towards him, daring not to look away, even though I heard Sam gasp a few feet to my left. I dropped to my knees, shuffled towards him, and sat my ass on my heels as I leaned forward, taking his cock in my hand as he conceded its control. It was thick, had prominent veins, but at least was clean. No more looking at him, this was a job to be done as efficiently (meaning quickly) as possible.

I teased the head with my tongue. At least I knew what I was doing here, and it was time to put those experiences into action. Swirling my tongue around his glans I was a little surprised when I felt his hands on my head, pushing me down on him, the cock filling my mouth. I relaxed my throat as much as possible. If he wanted to get this over with quickly I wouldn't argue. I pushed down as far as I could manage for as long as I could hold my breath before releasing and coming up for air, which also afforded a chance to glance over at Sam.

Her head was back, on the shoulder of the guy whose lap she had been sat on, her mouth wide open and she was taking quick, gulped breaths. The man had his arms wrapped around her, clutching vigorously at her breasts, sliding her erect nipples between his middle fingers and pulling at them. It was an awkward position and I realized why. He was buried in her ass and almost trying to lift her with her boobs to create movement.

I turned my attention back to my job at hand and went back down, using as much saliva as I could generate to create lubrication and allow my hand to slide up and down his shaft. At least he was almost completely shaved, too, which was a blessing for my preferences. As I worked my tongue around his glans I started to think I could bring him off in just a few seconds and maybe then it would be over. But as my mind wandered I felt hands on my hips, lifting my ass from my feet. I kept my lips wrapped around the middle of the shaft, but adjusted my hands, supporting myself with one, cupping his balls with the other.

A hand reached between my legs and lightly rubbed over my pussy. Instinctively I arched my back and shifted my knees further apart. Another hand slapped and then gripped my ass cheek, causing me to pause work on the cock now deep in my mouth. The hand rested on my pussy again; this time I felt a finger run a line down it and slip inside. I hoped that some natural lubrication would follow. Another finger buried inside me a short way and my lips spread slightly. It wasn't too rough, I thought, and pushed my ass back a little so they inserted deeper and helped get my juices flowing.

The hands on my head reminded me of my other task and I refocused on stroking his shaft. The fingers slipped out and I picked up my pace, pushing down as far as I could, feeling him harden further and I thought he was getting close. Just as I came up for breath I felt the head of a cock slide from my butt hole to my pussy. He rubbed it up and down the slit, as if politely asking for permission. I spread my knees wider, arched my back further.

My head instinctively shot backwards and I let out as muted a shriek as I could manage as he suddenly jammed a large cock deep inside. Oh, it hurt. Between my lack of lube and the size it was a huge shock. I tried to look back to see who it was, but could only turn far enough to see Sam as a second guy was pushing inside her as she remained on the other guy's lap, his cock still buried in her ass. She was being manhandled, but was panting and wrapping her legs around the waist of the guy in her pussy. He began pumping at her with vigor causing her to squeal in short, high-pitched blasts. But I had my own issues to handle.