Part 5: Ironclad

“Better to fight for something, than live for nothing“ - George S. Patton

I needed a plan. It had been three weeks since Gloucester. The Russians were still trying to find us. The Irish had a hit out on Laleh, and whoever had killed Caplain, A.K.A. me. And Tasha was still trying to filter information on who had leaked her encryption. All in all, life at the cabin was not going well. Laleh still looked at me like I was going to savage her at any moment. Tasha, while still amazingly attentive when we were alone, kept herself squirreled away trying to compile information. Which left me, to do nothing but wait. I filled the hours alternating between servicing, and general maintenance on the old Ford Explorer I kept in the shed behind the cabin, and whatever exercise I could do. Without the weights, and benches I had kept in my apartment, that pretty much limited me to calisthenics, running, and weapons training.

I had just came in from a four mile run, it was so cold outside that steam was still wafting off of my head, when an idea hit me. If we couldn’t figure out who on the inside had betrayed The Operation, we still had problems I COULD deal with. The Russians were a threat, but until we found out which Bratva had ordered the contract on me, they would have to wait. The Irish, however, were a much more homogenous organization. That was a problem I could take care of. The idea came out nowhere. But deep down inside of me, for the first time since I became aware of it, the small voice, was in complete agreement with the Monster. The funny thing was, as I sat and began to formulate my plan, now that both the Monster, and the Voice were in agreement, I felt stronger than ever. Now it wasn’t time to let the Monster slip it’s chains. Now it was time let Mason Griggs out of his cage.

It took surprisingly little effort to get Tasha to find out who ordered the contracts on me and Laleh. And two days after I asked her to look into it, she plopped a file in my lap that made war and peace look like light reading. It turns out Caplain’s death had hurt a lot worse than we had expected. Suddenly the Irish were scrambling to find a way to launder almost seventy percent of their money. So needless to say they were VERY angry. Not only that, but they assumed Laleh was somehow connected to his death. The contract had come from the very top.

Murphy “Murph The Gent” Fallon, was the head of the Boston Mob. And he was one of the most cold blooded motherfuckers on the east coast. According to everything Tasha had dug up on him, he had butchered his way to the head of the organization. Anyone whom had stood in his way, had had fatal accidents. In most cases, their entire family had been involved in those accidents. He ran New England with an iron fist. Drugs, whores, gambling, gun running. You name it, The Gent had his fingers dipped in that particular cookie jar. He was also security conscious to the point of paranoia. He ran his syndicate from a bunker like office, that would take anti-tank ordinance to crack. He owned a walled compound in the ultra rich Back Bay area of Boston, and apparently had turned it into something the federal government could study for security ideas.

No security is fool proof though. And I studied everything Tasha gave me until I had a plan. I had found Fallon’s weakness. His paranoia led him to be a creature of habit. He never deviated from his set schedule. And now I saw how this was going to end.

The night before I left for Boston, as I laid in bed, the Monster, and the Voice didn’t war with each other. Instead they seemed to spur me on. Each in their own way, the Monster with strategy, and planning, the Voice with my reasons for going. For the first time in my life, I felt centered. I had read many eastern philosophers, and finally understood what they meant when they said if you know yourself, and your enemy, and you’ll win every battle. I was finally getting to know my whole self. And the reality of that was, I knew that I was now even more dangerous than ever before. Now, not only did I have the will and ability to fight. Now I also had a reason.

These thoughts were erased as Tasha slid into bed with me. I marveled again at the softness of her skin, as I felt her arm slide across my midsection. I relaxed into the sensation of her touch as her smell, lilac and oranges, wafted up to my nose. “You know you have to be careful tomorrow right Mason?” she whispered to me. I could hear her fighting back the tears.

I let my hand slide down her spine, trying to comfort her. “I know Tasha. I’m not leaving any of this to chance. I’ve got too much to lose now. You realize now I have something to come back to right?” I whispered gently, as my fingers continued to play gently along her spine.

Her eyes met mine, and they were shining. She slowly crawled up my body until we were face to face and kissed me gently. “Mason ... I don’t know...”

I silenced her with another kiss, and looked into her light sea green eyes and said softly, “I love you Tasha. And as long as you’ll have me, I’ll always come back.”

Her response wasn’t what I had expected. Instead of whispering a reply, she attacked me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and her mouth plastered itself to mine. I felt her tongue bore its way into my mouth, and swirl around mine as her hips settled her smooth pussy down on top of my raging hard on. She didn’t say a word as she hunched her hips back, catching my crown in the slippery slot of her vagina. And with an agonizing slowness, pressed my cock inside of her.

I groaned, as the now familiar feel of her warm, slippery cunt slid down my shaft. I still had no words for how amazing it felt to be nestled inside of her body. It seemed that Tasha did not want to be gentle tonight. As soon as I was fully inside of her, she rose up, pulling about half of my cock out of her warm tunnel, and then, just as quickly rammed herself back down. As soon as the cheeks of her ass slapped into my legs, she repeated the move. She set a tempo unlike anything I had ever experienced. And soon she was slamming her pelvis into mine in a rapid staccato. Her heat, and the tightness of her was the sweetest of agonies.

I was already fighting back against my own impending orgasm, when Tasha settled onto me, and held perfectly still. “Mason...” she panted, her breath puffing against my neck in the sexiest way I’d ever felt. “Before you go tomorrow, I want to give you something.” she said as she swung her leg over my hip, pulling my cock out of her in the process. My steel hard erection slapped into my stomach, as I watched her settle onto her stomach, with her head facing the foot of the bed. I watched as she tilted her hips, and spread her knees, and my jaw hit my chest. Her gleaming, wet pussy, framed by those amazing toned legs. And topped by an ass that could have been sculpted by the finest Italian marble. It was the most erotic sight I’d ever experienced. “Mason...” she took a deep breath before continuing “I want you in my ass...” Her voice quavered as she offered up her ass to me. Whether from fear of the act, or of rejection I don’t know.

It didn’t take me more than a second to respond to that call to action! One second I was lying with my back against the head board of the bed. The next I was kneeling between her legs, my painfully rigid cock hovering just inches above that spectacular ass. “Are you sure this is what you want?” I had the presence of mind to ask, even as my left hand slid down along her hip. I watched her nod her head, as she leaned her hips back slightly, causing her ass to come in contact with the underside of my glans. That was all the confirmation I needed.

I took my cock in hand, and, aiming it down, began to work the head in small circles, smearing her juices around her dimpled ass. I wanted to go slowly, to avoid hurting her. But Tasha was not in the mood for slow. The second she felt my tip enter the tight ring of her ass, she thrust back as hard as she could, taking half of my cock inside of her in a single move.

“OH GOD!” The words were forced out of my mouth in a strangled gasp, as the tight ring of Tasha’s ass gave way to the soft, buttery tissue of her bowels. Tasha was again in charge of our tempo, as she swiveled her hips in a seductive circle, and leaned forward, dragging the exquisite heat of her ass along my shaft. As soon as she felt the flare of my crown, she thrust herself back against me. Only this time she didn’t stop until my balls were resting on the scorching heat of her pussy.

I didn’t need a second reminder of my role in this. Taking her by both hips, I pushed Tasha’s ass away from me, as I dragged my hips backwards. It wasn’t a full length stroke, I didn’t want it to be. With a muted grunt, I pulled her ass back toward me, as I drove my hips forward. The cheeks of that amazing ass slapped into me, sending ripples along those fantastic globes. And just like that we were off to the races, and despite her petite size, Tasha gave just as hard as she got. She grunted, and moaned as we slammed our bodies into one another. Sweat poured down my body, as my cock was bathed in the fluttering heat of her ass.

“Mmmmuuhhhh ... Maaasss ... Mason! Oh God Mason! More!” Tasha’s fists clenched into the bed sheets as she shot me a smoldering look over her shoulder. I smiled at her, as my hands tightened around her slim waist, and, growling like a beast, I found another gear. I was slamming into her ass while pulling her almost savagely into me. The sound of our bodies clapping together was loud enough to echo through the room.

I was mid stroke, pulling Tasha onto my dick once more, when I suddenly felt the tissues of her colon begin to flutter, and contract, as her back arched. Tasha’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes squeezed shut, as I felt her feet kick a rapid beat into the mattress, as her back arched. Suddenly it was like I had just jolted her with fifty thousand volts. She was shuddering, and moaning, as her body went into a series of ever increasing spasms. Tasha thrust her ass back into my pelvis, and her muscles cramped, locking themselves around my cock. It was entirely too much for me. And with one concussive heave, I unloaded in her clenching ass hole. Firing rope after rope of scalding cum deep inside of her.

My mind went blank. I had a vague sense of falling, and suddenly being cushioned by the warmest, softest pillow ever made. It took me a minute to realize that I was lying on top of Tasha, my half hard cock, still buried in the heat of her ass. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off of her, and flopped backward into the pillows, when movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I watched as a furtive shadow darted away from the partially opened door. But I didn’t have time to ponder it, as Tasha slowly crawled up my body.

“Mason...” She sighed deeply, as I felt her body melt against mine. “That was the single most amazing thing I’ve ever felt...” her words cut off into a small, contented moan, as I watched her eyes flutter shut. I had just enough sense left in me to pull the blanket up over us, before I fell into a deep dark chasm where, for the first time in my life, I slept in perfectly undisturbed contentment.

Boston, it turned out took longer than I had anticipated. It took me three days alone, to start making dents in Fallon’s organization. Clipping a wise guy was something that went with the territory in the mob. You had to get the guys higher up. I started with his shot callers. It took me surprisingly little effort to get information out of them. I left one sitting on his toilet with a kitchen knife in his chest. One had a bodyguard, which I found ironic considering he was actually tougher than his “hired muscle”. A rush from the side, a quick punch to the kidney, and a solid slam of a car door while he was falling, and the body guard was out of the equation. I left my target sitting in the back of his own town car, with bullets in both kneecaps, and his chest. The third was my gold mine. Turns out he had a thing for ladybois. I found him sitting in a “massage parlor” with his dick in the mouth of a Filipino tranny. A hard kick to the jaw, and I pretty much had everything I needed. I left him sitting there with his “girlfriend’s” hair sticks protruding from his eye sockets.

Then it was a waiting game. In a single day, I had kicked the ladder out from under Fallon’s organization in Southie. Now it was time to watch them scramble. I knew Fallon was going to have his people scouring the city, looking for me. But this was no opening gambit. This was middlegame. And I was waiting for the pawns to open up. It was like an open market for me. Their muscle had no clue who they were looking for. And so when I decided to take one out, they almost never saw it coming. Over the course of the next week, the Irish found themselves short fourteen enforcers, and one additional shot caller. And I could see them getting desperate. This was my plan. This was how Fallon was going to fall.