Money!
Chapter 9

Copyright© 2016 by Dual Writer

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 9 - This is a flowing story of how money has an unwanted affect on a man until he decides to become a force for his own protection. The story will find its way to be a part of Florida Friends. There is sex in this story. Some times a lot of sex so you've been warned. It is not a sex story.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual  

Oh my, that feels good. I opened my eyes and saw Gabby's beautiful blond hair still on my shoulder, but rising and falling on my morning excitement was a delicious redhead with her head thrown back and her very large breasts moving almost in a circle. I could feel her excitement by how she squeezed me as her own excitement overcame her. Who would know that this woman had a pair as large as they were? She leaned forward over me as her orgasmic tremors slacked, causing a nipple to land on my lips. I sucked it in and the redhead sucked her in breath and shuddered with my very stiff tool still deep in her.

Beth pulled her nipple from my lips and leaned down to passionately kiss me. She told me, "Damn, I'm going to give you another Mercedes for making me feel that good. Come for me. Don't hold back; pour yourself into me and cake me with your come like you did to Gabby."

I couldn't roll her over because Gabby was still hugging me with her head on my shoulder. The redheaded beauty began pumping on me and squeezing me while continuing to shudder. She went into some kind of overload and almost fainted, but continued pounding me until I blasted away into her.

That's when I realized that there was someone behind Beth doing unnatural things to her as she rode me. That someone was Dora, who rolled Beth off me and dove for her now drenched pussy. Gabby woke up just then, and said, "Am I missing out on something? I couldn't have missed out on much with my pussy feeling like it was the subject of a gangbang last night. I can't believe I've actually had enough for a while."

Dora rose up and looked at Beth, Gabby, and me with a glassy look, and asked, "What do you think? Ready for a little incest, Brother?"

Beth told Dora, "You'll have to work for anything he has left. I think he left a gallon inside me. I can feel it squishing around in there."

Gabby was still hugging me, and said, "I know he came in me at least three times last night, and there was come everywhere every time. I sucked him off and let him come all over me, and still can't believe how much there was. I'm going to keep him, Dora." The blonde kissed me with a lot of tongue and passion, and reached down to discover that I had already recovered.

Beth said, "Come on, Dora, let's go to bed and get some sleep. It's already seven and we don't want to sleep all day. You're going to have to take a nap today to be ready to work tonight, Gabby. I think you're on by yourself."

Dora was handling my stiffy and longingly looking at it, but got up and followed Beth out of the room. She stopped at the door, and told me, "See, I told you that you would enjoy yourself if you stayed with us a while. Now, take a shower and get out of here. Gabby needs some more sleep."

Gabby and I took a quick shower, and she didn't want any kind of touching near her pleasure center. She told me, "You don't look that big, but you sure do fill me up. That was the best I can remember, and you know that I've had some experience. Be sure to want to take me on more dates."

I was soon leaving to go home, and looked around for the car that had followed us here last night. I had to assume it was one of Sandra's men because she had seen me at that downtown club. She couldn't say too much, because she was out with a rather elegant guy with his own bodyguards. She wasn't able to confront me last night because I'm sure she didn't want the guy to know the two of us were very close friends. Close enough for us to sleep together, but we still hadn't made love. Our relationship was strange.

I realized that my phone was off when I pulled it out. I turned it on and it immediately sent me alarms for voicemails and text messages. I pulled into a Mickey D's and went in to eat a couple of Egg McMuffins with bacon, along with a cup of coffee and milk. I even remembered what pocket had the tens.

I read the text messages while eating. There was one from about ten last night when I realized Sandra was there, but no more until about an hour ago. The voicemails began this morning at seven ten, and were spaced about every ten minutes. I sat there eating, trying to think whether or not I even wanted to talk to her.

My phone rang which made me look to see who it was. It was Sandra. I answered with a simple, "Hello."

There was a pause, and then Sandra said, "There is an explanation, but who was that you were with?"

"None of your business or do we share the identities of our company last night. Some jerk followed me to my sister's condo last night, so I stayed there. I don't have a gun permit and I didn't want to kill him with my bare hands. I slept at my sisters where her two partners also live. I'm sure you'll tell me where you slept."

There wasn't an answer, but I could her sharp intake of breath. I simply said, "Look, you don't want to be honest with me, so let's cut this relationship off now before either of us invests any more emotion in it. I enjoy you and your family, and have been a gentleman with you. I'm sure you and your date enjoyed separate beds last night. Considering that you didn't text me after ten PM, and your voicemails didn't begin until after seven thirty this morning. What was that, when you were riding home from wherever you stayed last night? Go away, Sandra. I am not a toy and will not be used by you or anyone else. Goodbye."

I ended the call and felt a horrible emptiness. I had really liked that girl and she turns out to be the kind of deceptive woman who I can't stand. Beth was even straight up as to why she felt the way she did about the car. I don't need that kind of bullshit.

My phone rang again, and it was Sandra. I punched the call off and shut the phone off. I finished my food and drove home, watching to make sure no one was following me. I saw a strange car sitting on the opposite side of the road from our house, but between houses, when I turned into the street that led to my house. There was a lot of room between houses as this was Pinecrest, after all.

I pulled into the garage and went into the house. I enjoyed some coffee with Juanita, and then went to change clothes. I hung my suit up and remembered to take the money clip with the hundreds out of the pocket. I put jeans and a knit shirt that you wore outside your pants on, and then pulled the shoebox with the Beretta down. I wiped the Beretta down, then went to find the pocket stuff I had when I came back from my trip up north. I put the surgical gloves on, then slid a magazine into the Beretta and put a round in the chamber. I put an extra full magazine into my rear pocket and went out the back door and around the pool. The house directly behind us was empty and had been empty for years and years. Someone came by to do the lawn and keep the house painted. I was able to walk around the block and check on the car sitting there. The guy was smoking a cigarette, drinking coffee, and reading a newspaper. I walked up on the car and put the Beretta into the man's face, causing him to spill his coffee.

"Be smart and don't even try to wipe yourself off. With the barrel of the Beretta against his head, I found a nice forty caliber Glock under his arm that I put into the waist of my jeans. I told the man, "Do yourself a favor, and very slowly get out of the car without any quick moves. A gun could go off out here and no one would even hear it. All these homes are old and built to keep noise out."

The guy got out and I made him lean up against the car, keeping his feet spread with all his weight on his arms. I frisked the guy and found no backup, but I did find a pair of handcuffs. I pulled those and then found a wallet that held a County Detective ID and a gold badge. I asked the guy, "Are you on duty, or are you doing a private job?"

He didn't say anything, so I figured him to be working off the clock for BM Shipping. Not wanting to cause too much trouble to him or me, I put him back into his car and used the cuffs to lock him up to the steering wheel. I pulled his keys from the ignition and took the cuff key off. I threw it into the brush and then opened his trunk and emptied his Glock of the magazine, but there was none in the chamber. I dumped the gun, all the bullets from the magazine, and put them into the trunk. I tossed his ID and badge into the trunk and then to make it even tougher for the guy, I put the keys into the trunk and shut it.

I had found his cell phone and looked to see if there were any work numbers in his contacts. I did find BM, SM, and Sandra's cell phone also listed. There was a listing for Duty Commander. I called that number and got, "What do you want, Nickels; you're off this week, aren't you?"

I told the man, "Your man is handcuffed to his personal car with his gun, ID, badge, and keys in his trunk. I will not be as nice if you allow him to follow me around like he has been again. Now, you can use his phone's GPS to find him. Let me take a couple of pictures and send them to you since this is your cell phone. You should probably go by his house and get a spare set of car keys, but then he might have a trunk release button inside the car. I didn't hurt him, but please know I will if it comes to that."

It took me a couple of minutes to take some pictures of the guy. I had to push his head back to get a good face shot that included the hands cuffed to the steering wheel. I sent the pictures to the Commander and to the SM telephone number.

I tossed the phone on the seat and popped the hood. I wiggled and yanked the battery cable until it came off. The trunk button wouldn't work without power. I used the phone again and pushed the contact for SM. Sandra answered, and asked, "Is he doing something that I should know about?"

I told her, "Your County Detective is locked to the steering wheel of his car and has been reported to his Commander. Do yourself a favor and never have anyone follow me again unless I ask you to. Get here before the County cops do if you want to help the guy, and figure out how to get the car out of here."

Just to be on the safe side, I memorized the man's telephone number and planned on writing it down as soon as I could. I left the way I came, not letting the man see which way I went. I went back into the house, pulled the Beretta's magazine and chambered round and put them all into the shoebox. I put the surgeon's gloves into the inside pocket of the suit I had been wearing, and all the money I had into my pockets. Oh yeah, the phone number. I wrote it down, and then put it into my regular phone. I put my new sport coat on, went to the garage, backed the Impala out, and drove off. I went to the empty house behind ours instead of leaving the subdivision, and got out to watch what was going to happen.

A Cadillac pulled up to the police car and had the detective free in just a few minutes. They rummaged around trying to figure out how to open the trunk when they pulled the lever and opened the hood. They didn't see that the battery cable was loose at first, but were able to get it back on sufficiently to open the trunk. I watched as he re-assembled his gun and checked his ID.

The two cars were ready to leave when two Marked County cars and a plain car pulled up. There were a lot of cops standing in the usually quiet street. The guy in the Cadillac kept trying to leave, and was finally cuffed and put into one of the police cars after being frisked. I guess he might have had something he shouldn't.

The one guy who arrived in the plain car and one of the uniforms went to the front door and knocked. Juanita answered the door and told the men that I wasn't there and had left earlier. They wanted to look through the house, so Juanita let them and the two were in the house a good while and left empty-handed. I guess they didn't find the shoe box or the rifle, but they would have to get up on something to see either one. My Glock was in the box and in my sport bag with the ear and eye protection, an obvious new gun that I was just learning to use.

I wonder what they thought of the BDUs, but then Izzy may have already washed them and they were hanging up. I was sitting back in the brush near the cars when a flatbed tow truck came, loaded the Cadillac, and left. The plainclothes guy who was on site came back and yelled at the Detective and told him to report to the Captain to explain what he was doing.

The detective, both County cars, and the plain car then all left. I used my circuitous route to get back to my Impala and then drove out the far end of the area. I stopped at the first WaWa fuel station and bought a cheap cell phone without GPS, and a car charger. This was a good ole' Motorola flip phone that probably had a lot of miles left in it. I remembered the telephone number for the detective and put it in the phone. I then called Sandra. I knew that she wouldn't answer a strange number, so I left her a voicemail message.

She immediately called me, and was very angry. I asked her, "Why did you have someone watching me? Hire a private detective next time. They won't be so obvious and probably won't be so easy to walk up on. I want you to know something, though. I will hurt the next guy you send to watch me. You have really pissed me off and you have to think twice before doing something to me now. You gave me the tools, and I feel bad that I gave the money away now. Knowing you, you probably kept it for yourself. The only thing to say is it's been nice if you don't have anything to say."

"Don't go, Chuck. I need to talk to you and not on the phone. Can we meet? Can I see you?"

"Probably not, unless it's in the middle of a football field with all my men staged around to eliminate anyone who might want to harm me."

Sandra was sobbing, and said, "Isn't there any way I can talk to you? The man you saw me with is Carlo Agosto, and was my original intended by my family. He demanded his right to take my virginity when Daddy told him the marriage was off. He tried but he couldn't get it up. He tried again this morning and he finally slapped me several times, calling me a cold-hearted bitch who emasculates men. I couldn't call you until I called my driver to pick me up. My bodyguard wanted to kill Carlo on the spot when he saw my black eye and swollen face, but was told to let it happen away from Miami. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, and sorry I didn't forewarn you that I would have you watched, Chuck. I did it to make sure one of Carlo's men didn't try to get at you. I keep forgetting you're still a Marine and was fighting for your life not that long ago."

"We'll see what shakes out from this cop thing, and it might be possible to visit after that. I think I should vanish for a while. It seems I keep getting into messes that I didn't cause. Try to straighten out your Detective and help him with his Commander or Captain, whoever it may be. You have influence, use it for good, and make sure your Detective knows not to mess with me. I won't be nice next time. Oh, yeah, why was your guy hauled off?"

Sandra said, "The dummy didn't have his carry permit with him. He's already been released and knows the consequences now. Call me, Chuck, I promise to listen."

Well, shit. I had written the babe off in my mind, and she's coming on with a possible explanation now. I can't believe Bonito Meretti would allow anyone to slap his daughter around and the guy is still breathing. I needed to find out who this Carlo Agosto is, and why he would have so much leverage over Sandra.

I needed to become a super sleuth and not a Marine, but I needed some toys first. I went to the first pawnshop going south. They had only one pair of handcuffs, and they were really beat up. They did have a pair of great binoculars that were obviously some guy's souvenir who had recently gotten out of the service. I wanted a digital camera with a long range lens, but everything the guy had was too big to lug around.

It took four more pawnshops before I hit pay dirt. The guy had a big box of regulation handcuffs. I separated four pair and checked each pair with keys to make sure they would pull apart. This same place had a digital camera stuck on a pair of powerful binoculars. I looked out the window and down the street. I could read a license plate number that was almost two blocks away. I tested the camera by storing the pictures on a USB drive. The pawn broker had to use his laptop to show me the pictures from the drive. They must have been a million megapixels because of the quality. The man was trying to sell me a laptop, but I told him I used an Apple iMac. The guy looked at me for a long time, then went to the back, and returned with two almost new MacBook Pros. Pointing at one, he said, "This one has the five hundred and twelve gig solid state storage, or you can link up to some cloud storage. It has the retina scan feature for security. This other is a straightforward MacBook Pro that has built in five hundred gig storage. You know what they are worth If you know Macs. This solid state one would sell for about twenty-five hundred, but you can have it for eighteen. It still has a valid transferable warranty that you can extend. This other one comes to me from dubious hands, but I can't find it on a stolen list. I'll sell it for eleven hundred."

My mind already said, "Buy it, buy it."

I said to the broker, "I'll take the four sets of cuffs, the binoculars with the digital camera, and the MacBook Pro. How about everything for twenty five cash?"

The guy said, "I'd like to get a little more, but your offer is fair. Let me get all the papers for the binoculars and the MacBook."

The man came back with all the papers and a travel case for the MacBook. He made sure the charger was the correct one, and then wrote up the total sale. I didn't think there was a problem disclosing who I was, so I wrote my correct address down that was confirmed with my driver's license. I counted out the hundreds I had in my jacket pocket, then made a production of getting my leather money clip out and emptied it of the five hundreds to make up the twenty-five hundred. I was holding the cash in hand when the broker came back with the total invoice. Twenty-six hundred and seventy-five dollars. I pulled my money clip with the tens and twenties and counted out five twenties and eight tens. I said to the broker, "I didn't bargain hard enough. Now I'm out of money for a while."

The man said, "Yeah, but you have some quality equipment. Those binoculars with the digital camera have to be worth a couple of grand, but I bought it right because I couldn't come up with any kind of price on it." He handed me a handful of USB drives and said, "Here, a handful of eight gig drives that will last you a while. I think the camera will take almost any size drive, so go buy some of the big ones."

I was smiling as I went out to the car. I had this part done. Now I needed to set something up for some privacy away from the house and South Beach. What I needed was another identity. I didn't know where to go to shop for something like that, but I knew I could get the money to buy it.

My travel south was toward Homestead, so I stopped in to see Butch at his shop. This guy had most of a block where he built and modified street rods, race cars, and anything that burned gas or race fuels. His shops were spotless, with his mechanics in white coats or coveralls as they worked on oily engines.

Butch was ecstatic that I came by, and we talked while he went from place to place to check on the progress of several projects. A slimy looking guy stopped Butch to ask him a question when we went inside. Butch told him to wait for him and he would be back.

 
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