Chapter 3

So Angela and I wired the alley and wired the bathrooms. And it was kinky.

Going through the many shit and piss scenes to find the gems was worth it. Along with the business transactions Don had with remarkable regularity, which was the first time I actually knew he was dealing, though I strongly suspected, he would have occasional personal transactions. Angela copied all the good parts, making up a couple tapes for future copulation.

We would watch Don enter with a gorgeous blonde or black hair vixen. They would snort from his spoon. Then she would either take off his clothes or take hers off. Angela liked to see him naked. He did have a good body and an impressive member, but I preferred the parade of gorgeous women unveiling.

The girl would hug, his cock nestled between her thighs where he could slide along her pussy lips but not inside. The hug gave them a highly charged sensual contact, the friction a pleasing way to get to know the stranger. Invariably their embrace ended, and he would be sitting on the open stool of the toilet while the young woman would be on her knees giving him a blow job.

Angela and I would begin our voyeur fuck sessions emulating the action. We would stand naked in front of our bed and slid our bodies against each other. She pushed me down on the bed, my head lifted up by a reading pillow. She would kiss, lick and suck my head before sliding it deeper into her mouth, her lips riding along the edges of my shaft. Before I got very deep, I turned her around for a sixty-nine. I would penetrate her pussy with my tongue, stroke it in and out, then push her lovely ass down a little so I could watch the video. I was tonguing her crinkled hole most of the time because it was where my tongue could reach and I could still see the monitor. She continued her sucking of my rigid pole, pausing for breath or to catch a moment of the sucking on the screen.

Fun for both Angela and myself was when Don, much too rarely, fucked these radiant creatures. He would hand her a condom which she pealed and rolled down his extra large throbbing cock. The image resolution of the spy films was good except the color wasn't great, but I could imagine the yellow rubber covering the purple head of his extremely excited member. Some of the women straddled him face to face before guiding him inside. Others, which were my favorites, would bend back and he would guide his rubber covered cock inside. Angela liked those moments too. We could see much more of what was happening, what they were feeling. We could see both their naked fronts.

My favorite twosome was a petite well curved blonde who sat on his lap and jiggled her 34 C breasts as her blonde pubes slid up and down above his lengthy member. She leaned forward, holding a coat hook, and he held her there. Then he buried himself deep. He pumped hard and fast with long strokes. I could tell he was stroking her just right because she lost her grip and slid her hands along the toilet stall door, moving the hands around wildly. When she brought one of her hands to her full pussy and stroked her clit, he lifted his stiff wet member out of her, seeking another entrance inside. He found the backdoor and slowly entered. Her face contorted in intense pleasure/pain. She continued to stroke her pussy with her little fingers. Once Don had achieved full entrance, and he was fucking her asshole hard and steady, her face expressed pure sexual bliss. He pounded her deep and fast and stopped. She hung loose. Her orgasm had come. He had reached his. Angela and I could tell it was a good fuck.

By the time of the girl's orgasm I was well ensconced in Angela's lovely strong cunny, my arms reaching around her, my hands holding her dangling little breasts and squeezing them, my mouth kissing the back of her neck. I was humping her good, with her kneeling in front of me as we watched.

Sometimes we would come with the couple. Other times we let the video begin another sequence, my cock slowing inside, elongating the incredible pleasure we were sharing. I would stop and feel her twinges and I would twinge right back at her. It was our most intimate fucking moment. Once the scene heated up again I was plunging deep and hard and with as much love/lust intensity as I could muster into her quim. She was moaning and sighing along with the moans and sighs of the lovers rattling from the speakers, and along with my big grunts of pleasure.

One night our lovemaking continued. I took out my member from her pussy and slipped it inside her asshole. By the time I was fully inside I was sliding four fingers up and down and around her pussy, one stimulating her g-spot, while my thumb played with her clit. It all clicked for her. She stiffened and collapsed on the bed, my cock and fingers feeling the myriad vibrations of her orgasm around them. My fingers felt the liquid make them especially slippery as her cum bubbled over them. After two more deep drives inside her from my cock, my hand firmly grasping the tender swelling top to her great container of pleasure, I was stilled by my orgasm, my seminal liquid spurting into the depths found at her back door. Her liquid orgasms flowed together with mine to proclaim to the world that sex is most definitely wet.

What would drive us over more often than not were the threesomes. The first was two girls and Don, which I liked and would get me close. I loved watching one girl lapping at the connection, the cock sliding in and out of the cunny. The second though, with two guys and this long lean dark hair beauty between them, sucking Don's cock and being fucked by some coked up character doggy style with no protection was super hot. When they all were cumming, Don's cum showering over her back as she bent her head down, if Angela and I hadn't cum yet, or even if we had, we would be cumming then. It would be the ultimate explosion. We rocked the thick stone walls with the thunderous joyous moans of our orgasms.

But it was the spying and the monitor which also showed the goings on of the goons. And that was unexpectedly odd. One thing, we could never hear. When the goons had the poor chump in the toilet, the toilet would be flushing when they talked. And the faucet would be running. They didn't talk much. Mostly the goons would be twisting and turning the guy's limbs to the point of breaking but not breaking.

The camera attached to the alley showed more coercion on the part of the boys. The poor victim was shoved against the wall again and again. One goon, usually Anders, would hold his face, pressing the back of his head against the brownstone wall. The poor middle aged man had no history of defending himself. He would hang there taking the abuse. Then, most mysterious, the goons would disappear with the man through a back door, two metal doors wide, to the adjoining building which spread back farther than my club to form a dead end to the alley. The double doors were at the center of the dead end wall.

"We have to get in there," said Angela. "We have to find out what's going on."

Angela, braver and cleverer than I, found a way in. At first it was to listen. She staged an accidental meeting. Flying out the apartment door backwards, presumably exchanging last words to me before splitting the club, she bumped into the victim. Somehow she threaded between the goons so she could collide and drop into the victim's jacket pocket her listening device. I watched the transaction/accident with as much surprise as I thought would seem natural to me.

Needing to relieve Connie so he could finish his day out of the bar and kitchen, I couldn't listen in on the thugs and victim. It was slow, no one was in the club except employees, goons and a victim, but I felt I needed to be around in case of sudden customers and to ready everything for the evening.

I was still busy when Angela returned from her escapades. She smiled and signaled towards the apartment door. She had to make the signal twice, because I was so turned on by her presence. She looked sleek in her tailored reddish orange business suit. She was unbuttoning her blouse between signals. So many times she made me want to fuck her in plain sight in the middle of the club. But I had to shake a no. I had to be busy at that moment. She looked disappointed. I shrugged my shoulders. I knew I was disappointed. She smiled. I loved her. Still do.

An hour or so later she was dressed in crazy red spattered white spandex, looking incredible, but serious. She was near tears.

"My god Angela. What?" I said.

"We have to talk," she said. I had to read her lips she was so quiet in the loud room. Luckily Connie was there to cover my butt, working effortlessly with the waitress, his lover, Hazel.

Once we were safely inside my apartment, once I had closed the door, she crumpled to the floor. I lifted her up and brought her to the bed.

"Rewind the tape. Turn it full volume. You've got to hear," she said quietly. I obeyed.

After the bathroom and the alley, which again seemed to serve little purpose accept to hear the guy say yes a couple times while scaring the shit out of him, we heard the doors open. It was quiet. A door closed. Quiet walking. A door opened. The guy was tossed inside. We could hear the flesh and bones bang against the floor. The door closed. We heard the screech of springs as he sat on a bed. And then a voice.

"Hi," she said.

"Oh my god, who are you?" said the victim, obviously startled. The sound of the springs continued as he shifted around nervously on the bed.

"I'm Irma," she said. I heard a voice one would associate with a dumb moll. I envisioned her blonde, cute and voluptuous. "What can I do for you?" She rolled the words seductively around her mouth.

"I... I... don't feel very... um... presentable.

"Well, let's see what we can do about that. Take off your clothes. Go on." Footsteps and the floor sighing as she must have kneeled between his legs. "Let me take care of the lower half," she said, unzipping him and the springs announced adjustments made which allowed her to pull down his pants. "Ooh, poor thing, a lonely hang dog. We'd better perk you up."

The bed got noisy and his breath steadily climbed as she proved good at her job. Her cute Betty Boop Brooklyn whine continued. "You want to fuck me darling?" More sighs of the bed springs which began a vigorous steadily building rhythm matched by the groans of the two occupants. They were loud. Everything was loud. Why hadn't I heard such noise before through the walls? As she bounded on top of him, it could only be thus since the springs never squealed in a way that would convey him turning over, she whispered breathlessly, "Make me cum, make me cum darling, you feel so good, you feel so hard inside me, make me cum," and so forth. I imagined her pulling the cum from him. Not wanting the fuck to last. It wasn't for her to cum. It was all about the victim who finally did cum with a long thrilled moan.

"Very nice," said the blonde. Her body arose from the bed. Here. Your jacket. Put it on. And zip up. What's this?" The sound was rustling about the microphone. She had it in her hand. "Hey boys," she yelled in her Brooklynese that meant business. "Hello? Hello? Fuck you," she said directly into the microphone.

"Oh shit," I said.

"Yeah," said Angela, quietly.

We heard the door open and the boys were back. "Look at this," said the blonde.

"What is it?" said a voice that had to be Anders.

"Stupid. It's a microphone," said a voice we knew was Fast Freddy Junior.

"Don't call me stupid in front of Shirley," said the not so bright Anders.

"Stupid. Here," she said, slamming the microphone into one of the goon's hands and stomping out the door. "Take care of it." She slammed the door behind her.

"I thought her name was Irma," I said to Angela, who shushed me.

"Sit down," said Fast Freddy. We heard the bed squeal. Then we heard two blasts. Then, "Thank god for plastic bed covers. Shit." He realized he was still being heard by some unknown, because the sound snapped, sound of breaking, and was silent.

"Two things," I said to a shivering Angela. I wasn't too steady, but was bringing up my coldest thoughts to hide my emotions. "First, it's not our fault the guy was shot. Second, we have information. We finally know what the fuck is going on." I finished too loud. I couldn't hide the fear and pain I felt from witnessing a murder.

"I know that girl," said Angela quietly.

"What?" I said with my usual wit.

"Shirley. I know her. Rachel knows her. She liked those mob studs. Got her a bad reputation, the mistress type, you know, slept around. Now these being proper catholic boys, they'd not even not marry her but treat her like dirt once they had gotten off. I always thought she was nuts, being so much cleverer than most of the thugs. But I see she moved in. She's a big shot."

"She's a whore," I said it.

"With no heart of gold," Angela said. We shared a laugh that lasted way too long and ended with tears. "But she's in control. It's her place next door."

"A madam."

"Maybe. Something. We got a find a way inside. We got to watch. We got to find how she gets inside."

"And how come we never heard any of that before. There were fucking gun shots."

"I mean, the place is padded, sound insulated, you know," said Angela.

I nodded my head. "Weird shit," I said.

"Fucking weird," said my love quietly. I held her in my arms in bed until her emotions had sapped her and she was asleep. I returned to the busy club, which Connie and Hazel were happy to see. Not that they were relieved of duty. There was more than enough work for three.

The club was different. The long blank wall on the opposite side of the club from the bar which I tended to ignore loomed like the vibrations of a Rothko painting.

When Angela told Rachel about Anders being a killer, Rachel wasn't shocked. She knew her boyfriend was bad and stupid, and she still loved to fuck him and even talk with him from time to time. But when Rachel heard about Shirley, she didn't like it. Her and Shirley had a definite falling out. And yet she didn't think Shirley even realized it. Which was perfect for the stake out. Rachel staked it out most of the day and Angela watched through the night. They would be walking by casually, heading for Bradley's or away and there would be Shirley at her secret entrance. That was the plan.

Rachel happened upon her as she left the place. The entrance was another building on 39th street which somehow was joined to her 10th Avenue building. They chatted each other up. We were pleased by the warm reception Shirley gave Rachel. But she didn't admit her occupancy next door. When asked as discreetly as possible about why she was in that particular neck of the woods, she was visiting a friend and was heading home. She got in her dark green Lincoln and sped off.

Over the next eight days, Angela kept a discreet stake out on that door stoop, finding out Shirley's timing. Most of the time Shirley was inside. When she was out, she would be gone for a few hours during the late afternoon and evening. She would return and stay.

Unless someone was always inside, Angela quickly realized that Shirley was mostly alone. At least by late evening. Once business had been transacted the visitors would depart. In that eight days only another girl one night stayed over. She was from the old neighborhood. Actually she had been from the richer neighborhood next to theirs in Brooklyn. And she was known for her lesbian tendencies.

We decided on an approach together. I had finally acquired a bartender, a nondescript fellow dull enough to be trustworthy. So I had a few evenings off during week days. I took the evening off. We figured her pattern so that we'd know when she arrived. And when she did and was at the door, Angela shouted, "Shirley!" The game was afoot.

"Hi, Shirley. This is my man, Jack."

We exchanged hellos. It was a polite greeting. I noticed what a cuty Shirley was and how piercing were her eyes when she chose to look into mine. Green eyes amidst the tangle of red hair and a pale milky face. Not the blonde bimbo I had imagined except for her shape. I barely had a chance to survey her body and see its voluptuous quality. The large well shaped ass and the large well shaped bosom were easy to look at as they moved inside her tight black blouse and tight green skirt.

The timing was good. We had caught her entering her house, so she couldn't make excuses. She invited us inside. When not watching the wonders of her ass moving in front of me, I noticed the elegance of the hallway, done in a rich dark wood and only dimly lighted. She led us into a kitchen well supplied with state of the art pots and pans and stainless steel fridge and stove. We sat at the large table in the center. It reminded me of a servant's table, where at least eight maids and butlers would eat while the master of the house would be served in a long dining room with a long dining table full of eccentric family and guests.

Only this wasn't one of those elegant mysteries. We sat at the table as Shirley prepared cocktails. Shirley and Angela reminisced about their old days in Brooklyn, talking about school mates and the such. The conversation continued as we sipped the fine scotch and water, Angela sitting beside me while Shirley occupied a seat across the table. I drained the last of the scotch, the ice rattling in the glass as I set it down. And then the kitchen began to roll before my eyes like the nausea preceding a drunken vomit. But there was no time to vomit. The kitchen quickly disappeared. No this was not an elegant mystery. We might as well have been in some sleazy dive trying to make time with a suspect. The suspect had slipped us a mickey.

I awoke, the sound of screaming banging around in my throbbing skull. My vision was like being underwater in a murky lake where the sediment slowly sinks away but the thick water atmosphere remains. I was able to see the source of the scream. Angela was cumming like she had never cum before by my manipulations. Shirley was tonguing her. Her face was between Angela's thighs, moving up and down with great speed and aggression. Her hands pulled Angela's nipples and twisted them. They were both naked. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. I stood up from my chair, discovering my naked pole jutting fully engorged in front of my naked body. I somehow glanced around the room. It must have been the kind of room where the poor man had been killed. It was small. A padded cell. Enough room for a queen sized bed and a small wooden chair. It was brightly lit, probably for a camera to film the events occurring inside. I didn't look for the spying lens. I looked at my beautiful love being tongued into oblivion by the voluptuous pale skin redhead.

I walked beside the bed, my cock bouncing near Angela's face. She took hold and pulled it into her mouth. She sucked and licked it within the frenzy of her multiple orgasms. Shirley crawled off the bed. I replaced her between my lover's long narrow thighs, the head of my cock replacing her face, substituting for her tongue. I guided it inside. Angela was hot and sopping and open. She screamed out her pleasure as my cock sank in easily, feeling the myriad sensations, the flutters and contractions of her ongoing orgasm. My hands held her hips, my fingers deeply massaging her firm ass cheeks. My back curved enough to allow my lips, tongue and teeth to lovingly abuse her nipples. Meanwhile I pumped hard long firm strokes with my incredibly engorged penis. It was throbbing, my head was throbbing, my heart was throbbing, she was throbbing everywhere I made contact. The whole padded cell seemed to be a throbbing world of orgasmic flesh.

I saw the flash of red hair which topped Shirley's pussy as she lowered it onto Angela's mouth. I watched Angela slip her tongue inside and wiggle it around. I continued fucking her. I felt the heat and the quivering texture deep inside her. Reaching a high plateau of sexual bliss, my balls feeling full beyond their means, I felt like this would last forever, like I was not meant to cum. Her moans continued, though muffled by Shirley's pussy.

"I want you to know Jack. This is your last time," said Shirley quietly. She spoke just loud enough to be heard above Angela. I realized I was making no sound except the deep breaths from the exertion. No panting. No sighs. "I'm sorry for that. I like you Jack. I like Angela. I know you two were happy. But Angela is mine now.

"You have to realize Jack," she continued, pausing briefly to close her eyes with apparent appreciation of Angela's tongue. It didn't effect her voice. "It's both your faults. You know the unfortunate mishap. You know what I'm talking about. It was easy to discover the source of the bug. We have our devices, too. We saw you installing the cameras in the alley. We weren't worried until you got inside. We didn't think you were clever enough. I had to calm my associates. They wanted you both dead. But like I said I like you. And I especially like Angela. In fact Angela and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on." She smiled and licked her lips and sighed. My unrelenting fucking remained unabated. The grimace on my face as I suckled Angela's nipple was purely sexual. I was hearing her every word, but I was still inside the giant throb of sex.