Hitwoman in Love
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Coercion, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Humiliation, Violent,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - She was a product of the mean streets and she had to be tough to survive. Now, she did the wet work for the Union Bosses and she loved her work. Everything was on track until she fell in love.
Angie was truly a neighborhood brat that acted more like a tomboy than one of the silly pieces of fluff that learned at an early age the benefits of secretly dropping their drawers for the other gender. She was not the type one would ask to bend over to be shown something of masculine superiority because she would probably start cutting with her stashed switchblade sitting like a patient scorpion inside her knickers.
Her two older brothers, Nick and Harry, were a pair of punks that hired out as muscle for the union hall big-shots and both had a reputation of overly nasty attitudes and shortage of brain power. They were always playing dirty tricks on their little sister, but she never ratted them out to their adoptive parents. Their real parents had been accidently killed in a shootout with a bunch of thugs. The enforcers were called in by the shipping owners to help bust up a desperate strike called by the union bosses. It was just another work stoppage at the wrong time to show management they needed to give them more respect when negotiating a new contract.
In fact, with the way she dressed and the way she kept her hair as short as a boy, most strangers seeing her for the first time automatically assumed Angie was just another punk from the sleazy streets lining the dark, drab dockside tenements. She encouraged such thinking because it was far easier for her to browbeat her fellow females on the sly and keep the demanding hands of impetuous lads with no morals or sense of humanity off her novice bum and budding breasts.
Soon, even her brothers started calling her “Angelo” instead of Angie and she spent hours of every day to get her upper-body strength up to par with her dangerous older siblings. She had the advantage of not folding up like a broken umbrella if some wise-guy kicked her between the legs and could usually cut them enough quick enough to scare them away before they knew what hit them. After some abject lessons in chaotic street-fighting, she had a reputation that was more impressive than her far less intelligent brothers, Nick and Harry.
Angie didn’t mind taking her foster brother’s demanding shafts under her tender, loving care when they were in a dry spell of not having a willing female to tend to their personal needs. She did, however, draw the line at anything more than milking them for instant relief. Her anti-submissive persona kept her from having any boyfriends and she was not interested in fun and games with the sex-obsessed pretty young things willing to do almost anything to secure a boyfriend for the Saturday night dances.
In a way, she was a bit jealous of her older brothers for their added appendages and thought that if she had one of those things, she would be able to satisfy some silly fluff and be “one of the boys” just like any other rude male. The only thing was she couldn’t stand their feminine constant chatter and the stuff they put on their face to make the boys think they were prettier than they really were underneath. Besides, she hated the way they were prone to crying and getting all emotional over stuff that didn’t seem to bother her at all.
The closest she came to getting any action of a sexual nature was when “Danny boy” Murphy in a state of complete intoxication pulled her jeans down and stuck his thing in her bum thinking she was a “he” and needed a lesson in taking care of older boys nocturnal needs. It was a rude awakening for Angie and she wanted to damage Danny’s pretty face so bad it hurt more than her loss of pride at having to take it all the way up with nothing to say about the matter.
The thing that bothered her most was that it confirmed her suspicion the good-looking Danny was twisted just like the lads that haunted the shower rooms at the public park. That bothered her a bit because she did have sort of a thing for Danny and she did her best to hide her curiosity about the size and shape of his man-stick deep inside her sexually confused hard-bitten exterior.
She was ashamed of her lack of control when it came to the handsome Danny-boy, but pretending to be a boy to gain his favor was the only way she could retain his abnormal interest. The other young gang members treated her like she was just another one of those weird gender conflicted boys that served a useful purpose during periods of incarceration. Her hidden secret was that she was naturally addicted to cock because she was a normal female with all the instincts of a female in heat and was not a twisted punk with a bent nature. Her two foster brothers knew the truth but they treated it like a big joke and kept it to themselves.
Angie came to the attention of the union organizers and they hired her for “clean-up” duties after periods of high-intensity conflict. Slowly, she graduated into the more difficult position of taking care of business on the front end and arranged for “accidents” to eliminate unwanted opposition. The fact that she was a woman was not an issue because she was seldom seen or heard by the upper echelons of the system. They automatically assumed her codename of “Widow-maker” was for a shadowy male figure to whom an anonymous profile was a top priority. Her assignments were given to a cut-out that also acted as the banker for all financial transactions. She never actually met the cut-out and that was for her own safety and his as well.
Her career was lucrative and she enjoyed the challenge of devising various “accidental” circumstances to eliminate the targets selected for her as a new assignment. She had yet to come across one that didn’t deserve to be put down because of his disreputable assorted vices.
She had not actually found a boyfriend other than Danny-boy that she could count on to use her mouth or her nether regions for personal pleasure. She was ever so careful to keep him in the dark about her true gender knowing he had little, if any, interest in female company.
At least, that was true until this past Christmas when she was interrogated by a transferred Police Detective that considered her either a witness or a person of interest in a recent accident that involved an elevator and a transporter of hard drugs that wanted a bigger piece of the pie than he was entitled to. The clueless transporter had committed the cardinal sin of taking action before he secured the nod from the higher-ups and that meant Angie had to be called in to arrange a little accident for the impulsive and greedy malcontent with a big mouth and little courage.
She distracted the target by asking a silly question just as he was getting on the elevator on the sixteenth floor. He looked back at her in irritation and stepped into the elevator that wasn’t there due to an unfortunate malfunction of the operational system. His scream was drowned out by the noise of the still working elevators rushing past in both directions. Angie switched the bypass connection and everything was back in perfect order. The only problem was the clean-up needed in the pit of elevator number six all the way down in the basement shaft pit. Fortunately, none of the cables were damaged on that station and it was something that could wait until the afternoon rush hour was ended.
Detective Rod Everhard had a gut feeling that all was not on the up and up with regard to the elevator functions and he had a pair of experts from the manufacturer’s headquarters give him a detailed description of how such a terrible accident could have happened in modern times. They tried unsuccessfully to replicate the scenario but all of the elevators worked without a single malfunction. The video camera system showed Angie to be a likely eye-witness of the incident but she insisted she didn’t remember speaking to the victim or even noticing anything was wrong about his sudden descent down the elevator shaft.
In all honesty, Detective Everhard was more interested in Angie’s nicely toned body and her picture perfect bottom moving unrestrained inside her custom tailored trousers. He could tell she was a lady that spent a lot of time taking care of her body and he respected that above all else. He eased off on the questions and gave her his card with his home number written on the back.
“I will be contacting you to go over some details for my records. If you want to talk to me sooner just call me at home and I will be available to meet you within the hour.”
Angie was not quite certain if it was the case he was talking about or if he had a special reason for wanting her to call him after hours. She decided from the way he was ogling her ass that it was the latter and that was not a problem from her point of view. He was an energetic specimen and that was a fact. She started to think he might be just what she was looking for in the realm of a long-term solution to her problem of a steady boyfriend because Danny-boy was getting on her nerves with his constant pestering for anal favors.
She got up her nerve to call him the following evening then they met at the corner combination drinking place and limited menu restaurant with the kind of food that put some serious meat on the ribcage when one wanted to bulk up. They got a small booth and she was surprised when he squeezed in next to her on her side of the table. Their thighs were pressed together with familiar closeness and she knew it wouldn’t be long before her tingle would start down low between her legs even if he just pressed into her skin and didn’t make a single move of overt seduction. She felt it coming on her already and it was too late to stop. It was like an express train with no brakes to slow it down.
The food was good as usual and they both had a couple of Italian beers to wash it all down. She never knew the Italian beer was that good and decided to stay with it from that moment on.
Detective Rod took her up on her offer to come up to her apartment and look at the photos she had taken the evening of the accident just in case there might be something in the background that might have a connection to the accident in question.
They sat on the leather sofa and she knew she was lost the moment Rod tested the firmness of her seldom touched breast inside her almost sheer blouse. He played with both of her nipples with no objection from her shameless lips. After that, it was all with Rod in charge and she just went along with the program like a long-time girlfriend with a yen for his oversized man-stick. It was a revelation to Angie because her previous experiences fell far short of an ardent young man with skills in below the waistline nocturnal indoor sports. He did her on both sides and then stuffed her willing mouth just to show her he had plenty of juice left for a repeat performance. She was in no hurry to get him out of her apartment and he stayed all night waking her periodically to give her an update on his replenished precious bodily fluids. She was the one that woke him in the morning for a final encounter before she made her way into the bathroom for a much-needed shower.
The plus factor was that he lost all interest in the elevator case and concentrated on building her under-the-cover skills with constant practice. She decided to call it a day with her regular job and went back to the State college to get some more lessons on designing skills. Her days of arranging “accidents” were at an end because having a resident law enforcement professional inside the household was far too risky for that line of work.