Rain Dogs & Fairy Tales Ch. 01

The first time I met Tracy and Samantha was a drunken night in Detroit. They were living with a pimp named Walter. Walter was a mean mother fucker. He was bald with a gold hoop in one ear and a giant scar across his face. Tracy and Samantha looked good then. They were draped over some rich car salesman's knee. I only met them because my boy Rodney owed Walter some money. It was a bad scene. Walter fronted Rodney some handguns to unload in Cleaveland, Rodney got pulled over ten miles outside the city. He did four months and was back to tell Walter in person what had happened.

When I was leaving town, Tracy and Samantha asked me for a ride to Chicago. I'm not sure how Rodney was getting home or if he getting home at all. I drove them in one screaming ride from downtown Detroit to the loop.

Now I was in New York, three years later, working in the basement at the Metropolitan Periodicals Collection. I sat at a desk surrounded by a square mile of old newspapers and magazines. I had hung up my old ways and decided then, that first morning to become a novelist. I had a beat-up Underwood, a flask, and a lot of time to kill.

Nobody and I mean, nobody came down to that basement. I may have well been working in the city morgue. It was so quiet. In the summertime, they would crank the AC upstairs and it would get frigid in that basement. I'd be wearing a winter coat while sorting through antiquated copies of The Times while the rest of the world upstairs were in shorts and t-shirts. In the winter? They cranked the heater. I'd be under a dripping boiler pipe in a hawaiian shirt and cut-off jeans. It was crazy. But I figured I'd get a lot to write about. Truth was, I couldn't write a paragraph. I had no ideas. I was rotting in that place.

Until one night...

"Hey Mister."

It was a chubby butch-looking redhead. Her eyes were greener than the pope, braces on her teeth, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans that hugged her peach of an ass tight. She was adorable.

We played grope and grab ass all the way back to my apartment. Samantha showed up too. Samantha looked like Tracy's opposite, a tall slender girl with dark eyes and darker hair. She was tall, but everything was small on her. Small breasts, small waist. Still beautiful. Together they were a beautiful match.

"Fuck her." Samantha said, sliding off my jeans and shorts. "I want to watch you fuck her."

Tracy was across the room stripping off. She looked good. Really good. A pile of hot tit flesh was crammed into a tiny black bra, a bright pink nipple strained to peek over the fabric. I grabbed her and started kissing her neck and tits like a man possessed. It had been a long time for me.

Samantha stripped off as well and started sliding her long slim fingers over her clean-shaven cunt. Tracy's pussy was a pretty mass of wild red curls and my own grubby fingers slid into it. Tracy moaned and giggled as my fingers awkwardly explored her body. Her bra snapped off and her giant tits hung down to the middle of her belly. I got a mouthful of nipple and titflesh. I had a handful of firecrotch. Tracy bit my neck hard and laughed when I yelped. Samantha writhed on my floor watching us. She kept up the dirty talk. "Fuck that hot little redhead bitch, fuck her hard." Samantha was good with that. My cock seemed to spring from my body and against Tracy's leg. We collapsed to the sofa. I opened Tracy's thighs, her pussy lips were huge and laced with glistening honey.

I slipped it in effortlessly and felt the white light overtake my senses...

Stay tuned to the next exciting chapter: THE DEADLY GAMBIT