Chapter 48

Carol Davis couldn't stop thinking about the great injustice being done to Jennifer Anniston. That lying Brad Pitt had left her for that whore Angelina Joile. Carol was Jennifer's biggest fan and -- fortunately for her -- her most powerful. Carol didn't own a media outlet where she could broadcast daily the two-timing actions of a Hollywood stud gone mad. However, Carol did have access to a small round ball that could cause untold trouble for the man whose dick ruled his life and destroyed the happiness of America's most wholesome star.

Carol crept upstairs in the Davis home. She checked the master bedroom on the first floor and found Paul, Sarah, and Connie wrapped together, sleeping. She knew where Paul kept the orb. After shutting the door to his room, she pulled it from its place of hiding and set it on his bed.

"Open!" She whispered and watched the Instructor emerge onto his small stage.

He showed surprise. "Carol! What may I do for you?" Paul usually welcomed him.

"I was wondering if you know about Jennifer Anniston and Brad Pitt?" Carol sat on the bed and anxiously asked her question.

"Well, only what I read in the papers," he chuckled.

"This isn't a laughing matter!" Carol's intensity brought him up short.

"But I don't usually focus on such things. These are people living their own lives." The Instructor appeared genuinely puzzled at the course of the conversation.

"Brad Pitt left Jennifer for Angelina Joile. She is a whore and seduced him away from her. They deserve to be punished."

The Instructor stepped to the edge of his stand. "How can I help?"

"I want them to suffer." Carol leaned down, and even though an android; the Instructor could appreciate the lush cleavage Carol exposed.

The Instructor answered slowly, "In what way?"

Carol sat back. "I'm not sure. What can you do to them?"

The Instructor struck a studious pose. "With the way this society runs on computers, I can really do quite a lot."

"Such as?"

The Instructor spent the next hour outlining all the mischief he could visit upon the loathsome pair. Carol's amazement was considerable. The lecture was smoothly delivered, for the Instructor had made the same presentation to Paul earlier in the evening about Moe Anastasia.

Bob left the sleeping Greg and Anna and quietly dressed for the meeting he had with Moe. The Mafioso didn't know about the meeting, but soon would.

It was only a short trip down the hall to Moe's suite. The Instructor subscribed to the dictum of keeping your enemies close. Bob knocked on the door, and after a short pause, it swung open inward. Bob slowly pushed door until it was fully open. He didn't want to provoke Moe into any violent action in their hotel.

Moe sat comfortably on the couch in the living room portion of the suite, pointing a silenced 9mm a messenger had delivered earlier.

Bob raised his hands. Moe flicked the gun toward the desk. Bob sat down slowly. He quietly said, "I'm here for a meeting to resolve our differences."

"You think you can make me happy?" Moe scowled at Bob. He didn't trust him.

"We think we can. You want the casino and hotel to move your family, your real family to Las Vegas and get out from under your father and wife."

Moe didn't know how he could know this, but he kept still.

Bob went on, "Your basic problem is that Big Tony won't accept your Korean mistress and bastard children." Moe went rigid at the characterization of his children. "Big Tony's words, not mine." Bob added.

Moe relaxed at bit, but the gun stayed on Bob, who continued. "So your problem is really Big Tony. If he were gone, you would become the head of the Family."

"What, you think I'm going to hit my old man? You're fucking crazy!" Moe would have killed him already, but cleaning up the mess would have been too difficult.

"No, we're not asking you to approve a hit on your old man." Bob paused. "It's already ordered. You have no say in it."

Moe leaped to his feet and fired at Bob. Moe thought he must have missed because Bob didn't react to the impact at all. He didn't get second shot. Moe's ass hurt when Bob slammed him down in the chair and ripped the gun from his hand. Moe looked across the room for a hole in the wall, but didn't see one.

Bob quietly said, "Sit down and don't try anything like that again."

Moe sat panting and waited for him to go on.

"Your father's death is a done deal. If I were you, I would wait here until you get word of it and then fly home to pick up the pieces. The evidence will show that the hit was ordered out of Atlanta by one of the other Families, and you will be completely clear of any involvement. When you get back to New York, you can deal with your wife in any way you like, now that Tony's out of the picture. Our suggestion is wait until after the funeral before she disappears."

Moe nodded. He needed to get rid of Bob so he could get in touch with New York. "What if I go along with this?" Wanting Bob to think he might go along.

Bob shrugged. "There's nothing for you to go along with. This is simply how it is."

Moe grew angry. "What if I decide to fly home now and put an end to this hit of yours?"

Bob grinned for the first time and walked to the door. "You're free to try." He softly closed the door.

Moe sat on the couch for a time, thinking. If he did nothing, he became the head of the Family tomorrow -- that is, if Bob's people could pull off hitting Big Tony. While a large man, he wasn't an easy target. He knew how to keep muscle around him. If he warned Tony, then Tony was going to want to know how he knew. He didn't have a good story.

However, Moe decided he couldn't just let his father die. He picked up a limo at the hotel entrance and had the driver take him to Laughlin. After a brief nap in the back seat, he had the driver stop at the casino. Moe found a pay phone and called the strip club. Using a pay phone in the small town on the Arizona border probably wouldn't fool anyone, but it wasn't Las Vegas. The phone rang three times, and then he heard a perky voice say, "Domino's Pizza. Would you like to hear our specials?" Moe pressed down on the hook and dialed again. Another bright voice answered, "Little Caesars." He tripped the hook again and tried the number a third time. "Pizza Hut..." He slammed down the hook. What the fuck is this?

He tried his home number. "Papa John's"

He dialed his office. "Chuck E. Cheeze."

"Fuck!" He pulled out his cell phone and speed dialed his house. "Giordano's"

He spun around in anger in the hotel lobby. Who can fuck with the phones like this? The Feds? Someone else in the Mafia? A private company?

A young girl wearing a white miniskirt and a tube top walked by talking on a cell phone. Moe stepped in front of her. "I'll give you $50 if I can use your cell phone for five minutes."

She gave him a "fuck off" stare and kept talking. Moe pulled a fifty from his wallet and waved it at her.

Her eyes lit up at the bill and she said, "Paco, I'll call you back in a bit." She plucked the fifty from his hand and passed over her phone.

He punched in the club number. "Old Chicago Pizza. Hold please." He jabbed the end button and handed it back to the girl. He gave her a number to call, his house again. She punched in the number and listened. She said, "You wanted to order a pizza?"

He stalked off, leaving her wondering about his sanity. He got in the back of the limo and told the driver to head back to Las Vegas. He pondered his problem on the trip back through the desert. He couldn't phone, that much was clear. He ordered the driver to take him to the airport.

When the driver dropped him off at the departure level, Moe told him to wait. Moe went up to the United counter and ordered a first class ticket to New York on the first flight out. He passed over his credit card, which was promptly confiscated for unspecified credit problems. He held his cool, because he suspected that something like this might happen. He returned to the front of the terminal and found the limo gone. This didn't surprise him either. He checked his wallet and found $350 and another half dozen credit cards. He waved down a cab and returned to the hotel.

He packed up his suitcases and left for the Westward Ho hotel, one of the cheapest on the strip. He couldn't pay the nightly rate at the Crazy Dog for his penthouse. Since the people fucking with him owned the hotel, he figured they wouldn't come after him for skipping out on the bill.

Once in the cheap motel room he picked up the phone and tried his home again. "Mario's Pizza."

"Fucking jokers!" He slammed the phone down. The only way to get to New York in time to stop the hit was by plane, and that was closed off to him. He couldn't call anyone other than to order a pizza. He lay down on the bed and thought about his situation. It looked like he was going to have to accept the death of his father. He was up against someone who wielded power on a level he didn't understand.

He had just dozed off when there was a knock on the door. Shaking off the sleep he peeked through the spy hole and was not surprised to see Bob standing on the outside landing.

Moe didn't bother to pull his gun before opening the door. Bob smiled at him and Moe waved him in. Bob carried a paper bag and pulled out a bottle of Johnny Walker Red. "Want a drink?"

"I could use one."

Bob laughed. "You've had a busy night."

"Yeah."

Bob pulled the cellophane from two Styrofoam cups. He poured a generous dose into each. Moe took his and downed it. Bob poured him another, and they sat down across from each other on the beds.

Moe started, "I guess I don't have any say about tomorrow."

Bob answered, "I told you that earlier, but I guess you had to learn it for yourself."

"So what's my next move?"

"You get a good night's sleep. Then on Thursday morning, go back to the airport and use this." Bob tossed an airline ticket on the bed. "This will get you back into New York about an hour after Big Tony is dead."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself. People have tried more than once to hit the Boss."

Bob sipped his drink, listening to Moe. "There's no doubt that he's going to die. One of the girls who will provide his entertainment tomorrow works for us. He'll never get his dessert."

"So the deal is I leave you guys alone out here, and you make me the Big Boss."

"That's about it. What do you say?"

"I guess, I say yes." Moe held out his glass and figured he and Bob could finish the bottle before bed.

Tobias Adams slept soundly after his wife had given him the best sex he had ever had. In his dream, he and Dorothy were on a sunny beach. Hundreds of people were all around as she leaned over his middle and sucked his cock. Never a fan of oral sex, Dorothy was doing an expert job on his cock, while hundreds of people walked by. Her enthusiasm as she pumped her head over his cock let him know that, when he came, she would take his load in her mouth.

The crowd faded and darkness settled over Dorothy's blowjob. Her fingers fondled his balls. Her mouth engulfed him. He opened his eyes and looked down. He groaned as he realized that Dorothy had her hand wrapped around his cock and was sucking him like a teenaged girl avoiding pregnancy. She lifted her lips, "Go ahead, cum in my mouth." He arched his back and drove his cock to the edge of her throat. She let him rest there and then returned to pumping his cum from his balls. Her ring generated such a feeling of heat on his cock.

Dorothy tongued his cock and jerked hard on it. She wanted his cum. She then pressed her finger to his ass and took him. He thrust up and began to spray. Dorothy swallowed and swallowed as she still sucked his cock. She licked off the last drops as Tobias relaxed. He kissed her sticky lips and rolled her over on her back. He pressed his face into her pussy and licked up all her juices.

"Toby, you're going to be late for work!" His tongue pressed into her pussy, looking for the sweetest juices. "Oh, yes, baby, eat me... eat that pussy... tongue-fuck me, baby!"

He had always been good at eating pussy; he was just out of practice eating hers. Dorothy felt her juices slip from her pussy and run down her crack. Her husband's tongue chased them, scooping up the last right over her asshole. His tongue tickled her back hole, and she moaned, "Yeah, lick it... lick my ass... push your tongue in, you stud."

Tobias dove in and licked her little hole. She's only shown very negative responses in the past when he had touched her here, now she was yelling for him to "fuck my ass, baby." He wondered if she was serious. Would she let him fuck her ass?

He kept up licking her hole and spitting in it. He pushed a finger in, and she howled, "Oh, yeah. More!... more... deeper... oh, fuck that's good."

He doubled his efforts, and she began to wail. "Do it! Now!"

He lifted his head, afraid to ask. "What, babe?"

She raised her head, her blonde hair splayed out in disarray. "You know, you shit! Fuck my ass with your cock. I want it. Will you do it?" She rolled onto her hands and knees, displaying her arousal. His PTA mom, his wife of twenty years, his neglected spouse was bent over, pulling her ass cheeks apart and begging him to nail her in the ass! He pulled a tube of lubricant out of the nightstand. He had trouble with the sticky cap (it hadn't been opened in a long time) and coated his cock. Dorothy moaned as he rubbed the lube deep inside her hole.

He knelt behind his trembling wife. "Are you sure, baby?" he asked as the head of his cock pressed against her asshole.

"Fuck yes, you got me all turned on licking it, now fuck it." She pressed back, and the head popped in without any trouble. "Oh, yes, do it."

His greased cock slid up her ass. "Am I hurting you?"

"Baby, it hurts so fucking good. Keep going, deeper, deeper. Yeah, take me all."

He watched his cock disappear into her asshole. The sensation was incredible! Carly wouldn't let his cock near her asshole. Dorothy was begging for it deeper. Her hand on his thigh kept the contact with him she needed. He began to fuck his wife's ass, her tight, hot, nasty asshole. Dorothy grunted as his hips slapped her thighs. Her hole was stretched tight around his cock. "Fuck my ass!" Despite having cum three times in twelve hours, her screams broke his balls open, and he fired a load of cum into her asshole. She felt his juice and let go herself, pressing back so hard his discharging cock vanished up her hole. Her orgasm was titanic. He was almost as good as Paul. She slumped face down in the bed as her husband sat back on his heels, looking at the gaping hole into his wife's body, fringed by the white droplets of his cum.

She grinned back at him. "Baby, you surprise me every day."

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you?"

She giggled. "Oh, no. I'm fine, very fine. I think we need a shower, though. We're probably a little messy." She took his hand and led him into the shower. Freddie never did know why all the hot water was gone when he got up.

Adam's long-time secretary, Andrea Kingsley, was about to call the Secret Service when Tobias strolled into the office at 9:30, whistling. He gave her a cheery greeting and disappeared into his office.

The limo pulled up to the front of the Davis home at eight sharp. Jerry, their driver, got out and walked up to the door. Sarah opened it immediately and said, "Good morning, Jerry. So nice to see you again."

"Mornin', Mrs. Davis. Good to see you, too. Are you ready to go?"

"I am." She handed him a small traveling bag. "That's all I need."

While she walked down to the car, Jerry gave her an appraising stare. Sarah wore a white summer dress that ended just above her knees. The top was scooped and showed off her breasts. It was obvious she didn't wear a bra as her brown nipples peeked through the thin fabric and her breasts swayed with the swing of her hips when she walked.

Jerry opened the back door for her, and she slid into the seat giving a good view of her smooth thighs. "Jerry, I'm going to sleep for a bit."

"That's fine, Mrs. Davis. Should I wake you at anytime?"

"No, Jerry. Just let me sleep."

Sarah moved to the couch along the length of the limo and lay down. She lay down so her feet were toward the front of the car, giving Jerry a good view of her legs in his rear-view mirror.

"Should I roll up the privacy screen, Mrs. Davis?"

"No, Jerry, that's not necessary. Leave it down."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sarah lay in the seat, and after a few minutes, went to sleep.

As Jerry drove the car north, he noticed every few minutes Sarah changed her position on the seat. Each time she moved, he could see a little further up her thigh. Her white dress rode up, and after an hour he could almost see her panties. This slow exposure had him hard. He was temped to jerk off, but didn't want her to wake up and catch him. Sarah turned over and Jerry could see that she wasn't wearing panties. Sarah wanted him to stop the car and fuck her, but she was under orders. Pleasure would have to wait until later.

Carol hadn't called Monique Miller on purpose before knocking on her door. As an astute lawyer, she knew the value of surprise. Fully aware of what was going on inside the Miller house, she rang the bell.

Monique Miller was hung over from a night at the bar, drinking any drinks she could hustle a man to buy. Near closing, she hooked up with an insurance salesman from Naples who moonlighted as an urban cowboy.

Her three sons were used to load moaning coming from Mom's room. They weren't old enough to get turned on by it, though Stephanie was -- but then, Stephanie was staying at Connie's house. The salesman had given her a good fuck, and the two were sleeping off hangovers when Carol rang the bell.

A small boy answered the door. He grinned at her. "Are you a bill collector?"

Carol laughed, "No, honey. I'm not."

The boy said, "I'm supposed to tell bill collectors that my mom's not home and to just call next time. You can come in. I'll get my mom."

Carol stepped into the front door and recognized that they were stealing Stephanie from a pit of dirt and sloth. The little boy that let her in went back to a door and banged on it. "Mom, get up! Ya got company." He listened for a reply, but didn't get one. So he slammed his fist to the door, "Mama, get the fuck up!"

Carol blanched at the language of the small boy. She heard a female voice scream, "Get the fuck over to the TV and watch it. Leave me alone."

The attorney walked up to the door. She rapped on it and loudly called out. "Miss Miller, I'm Carol Mathews, an attorney for Paul Davis. He told you I would be stopping by."

"What the fuck time is it?"

"It's nine o'clock, Miss Miller. I'll be waiting out here."

Carol sat down by the three small boys watching TV. "Hi, guys."

The older boy, who let her in, said, "Hi." The other two ignored her. "They're not supposed to talk to strangers."

"But you are." Carol could see the week-old food in plates scattered around the room.

"You don't look like you're from the welfare."

Carol smiled, "And why not?"

"You dress way too nice. Welfare workers dress like us."

Carol laughed. "Do welfare people come around often?"

"Yeah, my daddy wants to get me to live with him, but mommy says she'll burn in hell before she gives up some of her monthly check."

"What about your brothers? Don't they want to live with him?"

The youngster giggled. "Oh, no. My daddy's not their daddy! We all have our own daddies."

"You are lucky boys, then; most families only have one daddy." Carol masked her anger at women who bring children into the world only as a side effect of sex. It almost made her sick that Monique Miller left her children sitting around an electronic babysitter, while she slept off a drunk with a man she didn't know.

A door opened, and Monique Miller came out wearing an old cotton bathrobe. Her eyes were red and lined. "Who did you say you were?" She sat down on a chair covered in dirty clothes.

"I am Paul Davis' lawyer."

At Paul's name, Monique finally showed some interest. "I've come about the custody of Stephanie Miller. You've agreed to assign custody of her to the family of Greg and Sarah Davis."

"I know. What do I have to do?" She looked confused.

"First, we sign some papers regarding obtaining parental rights, then a hearing will be scheduled and a final determination made."

"All right, whatever Paul wants. He was very persuasive when he was here about the getting Stephanie to live with them."

Carol smiled, "Yes, Miss Miller, Paul can be most persuasive. Just sign at the spots with the black X's."

"Do you think he might see me again after the final hearing?"

"I think, Miss Miller, that I could promise that, if everything goes without a problem." Miss Miller finished signing the custody papers.

"Great! Listen, I've got company that I've got to get back to..."

Carol knew about Monique's company. "You've been most helpful in this matter. I'll let you know when the court date is."

The delivery of computer equipment began about ten am. The Instructor had ordered several high-end CAD workstations and an industrial strength plotter. Greg and Bob signed for the equipment and tried to assemble it under the Instructor's supervision.

Anna sat at the desk, arranging appointments with some of the largest contractors in the Las Vegas area. She demanded appointments the next day to discuss the renovation of the casino and hotel.

Around two pm, the computers and plotter were set up. The Instructor knew the hotel didn't have high-speed Internet to make transferring files easier, so shortly after the computers were up and running, a FedEx delivery brought a small package of CDs. Under the Instructor's supervision, Greg loaded the CAD software, and then began loading the files off the CDs. At three pm, the plotter started producing blueprints. It ran well into the early morning before the stack of blueprints with the specifications for the renovations were complete. The prints were stacked into three piles; one each for the contractors Anna would meet with tomorrow.

Abby and Aaron sat down at lunch, alert and ready. Each looked around for Connie and Stephanie. Abby whispered, "Watch out for me. If one of them touches me, keep a close eye on me and tell me if I change the way I act."

Aaron nodded. The twins began eating, but their eyes swept the cafeteria for their new friends. It wasn't long before Connie and Stephanie appeared at the doorway and waved at them.

The girls dressed even more conservatively today than yesterday in their knee-length skirts and white blouses. The twins watched them going through the lunch line. Abby leaned over to Aaron, "Do you see that they're wearing identical rings?"

Aaron shook his head.

"It's something a girl would notice. I can't see them well from here, but they look awfully plain. Just silver bands. Not something fashionable like you would expect from girls like Connie and Stephanie. They look more like plain wedding rings." Aaron trusted his sister's opinion.

The girls came over and set their trays down by Abby and Aaron. The twins got close-up looks at the rings. Aaron could see they did look awfully plain for two such fashion-conscious girls.

Stephanie sat down next to Abby. She gently rested her hand on Abby's bare leg. Abby turned to Stephanie and softly said, "Hi, Steph. I missed you since yesterday."

Aaron watched and saw that his sister went all dreamy when Stephanie touched her. He looked at Connie's hand and wondered if she would try to touch him. Connie looked at the boy, and he watched as she set the silver ring against his skin. "How are you today, Aaron?"

"I'm fine, Connie." A feeling of euphoria blossomed in his arm and flowed with his blood through his body. His brain still had enough control to make the connection between the ring brushing his arm and the feeling of arousal in his loins. He tried to withdraw his arm from contact with Connie's ring, but found his body refused to move. He tried to take his eyes off Connie, and again couldn't. His eyes could move over her body, and when his eyes rested on her ring his emotional attachment to her felt the most powerful.

Abby couldn't take her eyes off Stephanie. She felt a powerful urge to repeat their kiss from the day before. Stephanie lifted her hand from Abby's knee to begin to eat lunch. The urge to kiss her faded slowly. She looked over and saw Aaron's glassy stare at Connie. She said to Connie, "Please, pass the salt." Connie let go of Aaron's arm to reach for the shaker, and Abby saw his eyes begin to clear. She thought, it has to be the rings, but the idea of rings of power was something out of Lord of the Rings. It might be a good story, but was it possible? Abby thought an experiment was worth a try.

She asked, "Does anyone need help with their homework again after school?"

Connie flashed a bright smile, "Yeah, I could use some more."

"Yeah, me too." Stephanie was certainly up for an advancement of yesterday's seduction.

Aaron followed Abby's lead. "Then let's do it again tonight."

Connie laughed. "It's a date then."

Isabelle Martinez was running late. She had sold two houses already this morning and was due in two minutes at a home to sign up two more houses to list. The traffic was rough. She guided her brand new Mercedes SLK55 slowly through the late-morning traffic. Two hundred and seventy horsepower was worth crap in a traffic jam, she thought. The car closed half her deals, though. It breathed success. She looked at her finely made-up face in her rear view mirror. She smiled; not bad for a Cuban girl who had washed up on a Florida beach when the boat her parents rode to freedom capsized. She looked down at the assets that closed the rest of the deals, the DD tits she had bought herself as a Christmas present two years ago. She was wearing a gaudy flower-print dress with a low-cut bodice. The gentleman couldn't keep his eyes off her at the last showing. She laughed at the thought of how he had practically bought the house sight unseen. She did agree to have dinner with him, but just couldn't find the time until after the closing. Then she would be free to decide if she really wanted to go out with him when the commission check was safely in her bank account.

The traffic offered a brief opening, and with a foot to the floor and a rapid downshift, Isabelle was into clear road. Hitting eighty at spots and slipping though traffic like the car was greased, she made up the time, arriving at her appointment a minute early.

It was a strange call. Two families were moving from adjoining houses and wanted to sell quickly. This Carol Mathews had worked with Isabelle a couple of times on complicated sales, and had apparently asked for her specifically due to her prowess at selling homes.

She wished she had changed clothes. The bright dress she wore was more suited to men. It showed off her figure and her perfect tits. She encouraged them to look. "Talk to the tits, boys. Don't look at the house, just buy it."

She picked up her briefcase and looked over the properties as she walked up to the front door. She noted the sticker in the corner of the picture window. She noted it was brand new.

The bell brought an immediate response. Carol, she immediately recognized. Sarah took her hand and shook it warmly.

Carol said, "Should we do our business out on the deck? I've made some mimosas."

Isabelle responded in her cheeriest fashion. "I would love one. I love doing business outdoors."

When she stepped out onto the deck, she observed, "A pool. Lovely and very well maintained."

Sarah pointed to the hot tub shack in her back yard. Isabelle said, "Do you have it enclosed for privacy?"

Sarah nodded, "My husband and I love to use it nude, and even though we don't have anyone who can really see, it's more comfortable to be assured of your privacy if you... uh, I'm sure you know, Isabelle."

The realtor sipped her drink. "Oh, I do. Not as often as I like, but I do."

All three women laughed at her joke. After they all had a drink, Carol took them on a tour of her house. They stopped for another drink and then toured Sarah's house, stopping at Carol's deck for another drink. Sarah suggested they end the tour at the hot tub. Carol smiled and agreed. Loading up on another cold drink, the three women walked back to the shack. Carol noticed that Isabelle was perspiring; her brown breasts gleamed in the hot sun. Carol wondered what they looked like naked. Sarah intended to find out.

Isabelle knew she was perspiring. The drinks, the heat, and the constant touching of Sarah and Carol had her in a state she usually only experienced around men. Isabelle played a loud game of sexual object, but didn't have a lot of practical experience. Two men, each one she had considered marrying, only to learn they enjoyed her money more than her body. She was a good Catholic girl, waiting to find her man for life. Carol and Sarah confused her. Isabelle found herself looking at them and admiring their bodies, their legs, and their breasts. She imagined each naked. The mental image stimulated her privates, and she was wet. She was a brown mouse between two cats that playfully drove her toward the hot tub shack.