Greyhat: Issue 4 - The Hard Hit

 "MY BENNY," She shouted after emerging from the bathroom first. I had eaten all of my food and all of hers before she had finished. Her hair was a mess.

"You snooze, you lose, bitch," I smirked. Cheryl emerged from the stall. She was a wreck. Disheveled, sweaty, her hair worse than hers. "Damn," I raised both my eyebrows at her.

"Wha?" Cheryl said through a fog. Her mind was obviously not all there.

"That bitch has no idea what's going on," she flopped a hand at Cheryl and stormed over to the booth and slammed her hands down on the table, hard, "YOU ATE MY BENNIES." There was literal fire in her eyes. Figuratively literal fire.

"It was bennies or Cheryl and you know what you chose to eat," I leaned back and crossed my arms.

"You...ate...my...bennies..." she flopped into the booth stall and stared at her empty plate.

"Cheryl, would you be so kind?" I pointed a hand to the plate.

"More...?" She was still not all together. She grabbed the empty plate. It sagged in her hand. Pathetic.

"YES MORE," she stood up on the booth and screamed in Cheryl's face. Chery dropped the plate. Thankfully, it didn't shatter. She picked it up and wended dumbfoundedly to the terminal, the plate lolling into a bus tub near the station.

"Soooo, how was it?" I cupped my chin in my my hands and smirked.

"I don't know how she did it," she pulled out her phone and began adjusting her hair and clothes, "but she legitimately fisted me. Full-on fist-in-pussy action. It's insane," she held her phone to her teeth and began trying to pick something out of it with a fork tine.

"Wait, full-on fist-in-pussy, no lube?" I turned my head and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Not even that lame crumpled chop thing, either," she held her hand out. The fingers were in a sort of cone shape. I got the idea. "Full on Cinderella Man in my hooch," she changed her fingers from the loose cone shape to a tight balled fist.

"Damn son," I quirked my eyebrow again and nodded my head, "that's some tight shit."

"Well, technically," she turned her head to the side and raised her eyebrows

"Ayyyy," I finger-gunned her.

"Ayyyy," she finger-gunned me back.

"But seriously, though," I leaned in and pulled my lips flat, "you guys sounded like a bunch of gorillas in there. People looked. It was weird," I made eye contact with one of the patrons on the other side of the diner. He gave me quite a cross look. I just pointed at her and shrugged with my hands to the sky.

"Here," Cheryl, a bit more composed but still dazed, dropped the plate of eggs in front of her. "Made special," she waggled her hips and winked.

"Thank you," she smiled up at her innocently and dove in.

"Do they...?" I trailed off.

"Is that...?" She picked up.

"They smell like..." we both shot a glance at Cheryl. She patted two fingers to her crotch area and then held them to her mouth, split them in a V, and flicked her tongue between it.

"Ewwwww," she pushed the plate away from her.

I pulled out a thick knot of bills I kept in a money clip in my front pocket, peeled off a few hundreds and dropped them on the table. "Car, please," I said out loud. We both waved at Cheryl as we left. "Goodbye Grace," I doffed my non-existant cap at her. There is no way a hat would grace this haircut. I got it from a bespoke Italian barber. The fade too fresh to hide under a lid.

Grace didn't reply. Instead, she pulled her chin into her neck and flared her nostrils. It was not a pretty expression on an already-not-pretty face.

"What was her deal," she said to me as we exited the diner. Our car, as expected, was waiting for us on the curb.

"Um," I opened the door for her, "need I reiterate the gutteral, primal noises that emerged from the bathroom?"

"Dude, I told you, she's totally into butt stuff," she lowered her head and eyebrows.

"Wait, did she..." I turned my head and inhaled sharply, "...Hadoken?"

"Ka-me-ha-me-ha!" we both yelled in unison while making a double-fisted punch.

"Home, please," she said innocently as she settled into her seat and pulled her phone out.

I pulled out my own. You're safe. Stay inside until the notice spreads. "Looks like we're in the clear," I shook the phone at her. Who bought the hit? I replied back before I put it back into my lapel pocket.

"Good," she replied as she continued to peck at her phone. "Hey, any word on our other hacks?"

"Nah," I leaned back and picked my e-cig back up. "They're all pretty small-bananas and no one is really willing to pony what we're asking."

"There's a new off-shore firm that just posted in Luxemborg that is offering bounties. I might give them a shot," she tossed me her phone.

It was open to a bank site for some place called Rulegard and Hoffmeister that was advertising no-questions-asked numbered accounts, a favorite of haven-seekers and illicit financiers. I chucked the phone back to her, "Anything worth the effort?"

"They'll give a hundred large if you can link accounts," she caught it and shrugged, spinning the phone around and began pecking away at it again. "That's not nothing."

"Nah, that's not bad. Any vector restraints?" I pulled my buzzing phone out again. This could be yours right now was followed by a low-perspective shot of a vagina. I put the phone away, again.

"Usual. They'll only pay out if I can prove a connection to their service," she jumped across the cabin and sat next to me, cuddling against my arm. She showed me her phone screen, "What do you think of this?" It was a chair called the "Scorpian ZXR" a full-integrated reclining workstation with 3 monitors mounted on a gantry arm that could adjust so you could work laying at a 135-degree angle, all yours for the low-low price of $16,000.

"I think that's three less monitors than what you have right now," I flicked the pictures to the side and leafed through the other images. It was, in all fairness, an extremely impressive chair.

"Well, I want a new gadget," she crossed her arms and stuffed her phone into her armpit with a harumph. "What do we need?"

"Well, let's see," I took a massive drag off my cig and then squashed it out, "we have the full home theater, you've got the Wall-o'-Screens, there's the anechoic listening room with horn speakers in the basement, I have my DJ Studio, the full chef's kitchen we never use, the full woodshop in the second garage, the autoshop in the first garage, the forge in the third garage, the gym we never use, complete with sauna, jacuzzi, and steam room, the game room, the arcade, aaaand the library. Did I miss anything?"

"The budoir!" she exclaimed excitedly as she pulled her phone out again. "What about this?" She pulled up a picture of a riding Sybian toy. "I've always wanted one of these. That dude on the talk-show makes celebrities sit on it while he interviews them. That always makes me wanna touch myself."

"Didn't you also want to get a barn?" I squinted an eye at her and pulled a smirk.

"No," she let the phone screen drop away, "you suggested I get a barn because I said I used to ride horses when I was a little girl and that's how I broke my hymen."

"Didn't you also want to, you know..." I made a pulling motion, "...with the...?"

"No!" she swatted my arm with her free hand and pulled away from me. "Again, I said that the first time I ever got off was riding a horse, too, and you said that we should get a bunch of barn animals for me to fuck because you saw a donkey show in Tijuana and she, quote, 'looked like she was really enjoying herself,' end quote."

"I was really wasted, wasn't I?" I shrugged my shoulders up and squinted an eye.

"Xanax, Vicoden, aaaand a pint of Bacardi, if memory serves," she tapped a finger to her chin.

"Ahh yes, I was balls-deep in an Egyptian whore, too, right?" I leaned back and reveled in the moment. Good times, my friend, good times.

"First," she held up her pinky, "she wasn't a whore, she was a tripped out raver you picked up at the club you were spinning at." She held up her ring, "Second, it was Dubai, not Egypt, though now that you mention it, she might actually have been Egyptian, I don't remember." She held up her middle finger. I loved the way she counted on her hand, it was just so quaint, "And third, she turned out to be the teenage neice of some sheikh and is the reason we're on a no-entry list in Saudi Arabia, so I take that back, definitely not Egyptian, you're just racist."

"That would explain why she kept hitting me every time I called her Cleopatra," I folded my hands behind my neck and reclined until I was almost plank-straight. "Good times, my friend, good times," I repeated, this time out loud.

"Bern had to sneak us onto a private jet and smuggle us out from a secret Russian air strip," she pulled her lips into a straight line.

"I know, right?" I corrected upright and shook my hands at her, "how fucking James Bond is that shit?"

"Ok," she relented, "it was pretty badass, now that I think about it."

The car pulled into the driveway and I got up to open the door for her. A gentleman always holds the door for a lady. "Hey, I'm going to go follow up on this Lutrox lead, I'll catch you later tonight?"

"Ugghh," her voice went from breathy to shrill at the end. "Fine, go philander with the Ex, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Right right," I shoed her out the door, and walked her to the back of the garage, "be safe, stay inside. We just bought out a contract. Turn up the security system, I'll text you when I'm heading home. If I'm heading back."

"You be safe, too," she leaned against the doorjamb. "Love you, bro."

"Love you, too," I shut the door to the garage and jumped into the back of the Phantom. Special times call for a special car. "The place, please." The car pulled out of the garage and silently sped away.

The Phantom was a uniquely different experience than the 'Cedes. It was like everything was turned to 11. Pure magic. OMW, I texted her

Hurry, she replied, followed by another low-angle shot of her three-fingers-deep in silk-clad muff. She sent me another picture of her with those same goey fingers in her mouth, followed by Show it to me.

You know I don't do dick pics. I snapped a pic of a bottle of Viagra and pulled a joint of fine Colorado green gold out from the cigarette case in the center console.

No V and wait for me. She sent me a close-up of her breasts. They looked larger than I remember, but then again, they were still pretty tiny. Perfectly tiny, extremely perfectly tiny, but tiny still. Maybe I'd just been spoiled by heavy chests since our last time.

I sat in silence and contemplated the day as it had transpired thus far, with it's odd twists and lucrative turns, while the Phantom silently, effortlessly wended through the city streets and delivered me to the front of the Hotel du Cleffe, one of the swankiest joints in the metropolis. "Don't scuff it, that thing's worth more than your life to me," I tossed the valet the key. He caught it sauvely and nodded a 'yes sir,' before gingerly pulling it off into the private lot.

"Rosa San Marco's room, please..." I leaned on the front desk to read the attractive woman's nametag as she clacked away at the keyboard, "err, Grace."

"And you are?" She didn't look up at me from her keyboard.

"There should be a key for me," I pointed at the boxes in the back, "under Pablo Escobar."

"Ah," she finally looked up and met eyes with me. They were striking blue and she chouldn't have been older than twenty-five. "Mr. Escobar, Rosa is expecting you in room 215."

"Great, could you send up a bottle of champagne, too?" I stopped dead as I walked away from the desk, "Don Perignon. Do you have a 2002?"

"We have a 1990 and a 1971," she returned to clacking away at her keyboard.

"Send up the '90," I finger-gunned her. "She's not worth the '71," I held the gun and gave her an extended-duration wink.

"Right, sir," she glanced up at me from her keyboard, but only for a split-second.

I made my way past the grandoise marble lobby and into the elevator alcove. The doors were polished yellow brass and the whole white stone room was plastered in modern art. I never liked colorscapes and all that Polluck stuff, but it seems that all of the city hotels had prints in their lobbies. The elevators, as one would expect, were themselves lined with velour and had a bellhop.

"Second floor, please," I palmed him a bill.

"Yes, sir," the hop took it like a pro and pressed the button.

I never did see the point of tipping him to press a button I could just as easily press. I was told it was 'Nobless Oblige' and a benificence to uplift the common folk, but that always seemed to me like rich-people-speak for guiltless bragging. We dinged on the floor, I disembarked, and knocked on her door.

She answered by cracking the door slightly. I pushed in. She was on the bed by the time I got through the foyer, lounging nude, her body draped in a thin mostly-transparent sheet. "What took you so long big guy?"
"Had to drop off the old ball-and-chain, you know how it goes," I loosened my tie and threw my suit jacket onto a nearby arm chair and sat side-saddle on the bed in front of her.

"Good," she languidly dragged a finger up my thigh, "wouldn't want her getting in the way of our fun, now would we?" She wandered her finger up my body. When she got to my neck, she pulled me in and held a long, passionate kiss.

"Definitely not," I suavely lingered before responding. "Not that she cares, but this time is just for us, my love."

"I'm not 'your love' anymore," she pushed me down onto the bed, stradled me, and passionately kissed me. "And I don't care if she cares or not," She began to ravenously unbutton my shirt. I was thankful I went tanning last week. She pressed her very naked body against mine as she pinned my arms down and began kissing her way down my now-bare chest. She started to undo my belt with her teeth.

"It's not like she and I are dating or anything," I propped myself up on an elbow as she undid the button and fly, still with her teeth. "And, if memory serves you're the one who left me for someone else."

She grabbed my pants and pulled them down to my ankles, kissing my legs as she went. "I didn't leave you for someone else. I slept with an art dealer so he would sell my paintings and you kicked me out."

"For five years, Rosa," I propped myself up on my other arm. "You slept with him regularly for 5 years. Uggh," I moaned as she took me into her mouth. She did this, thing, with her tongue? I moaned again.

"'At 'as 'ike 'ewen 'ears a'o," she said around me.

"Eight, actually," I leaned back and let her continue to work me. It was quite good. So good, in fact, that if I weren't a man of such resolute character and sterling morality, I might consider a second run just to get this on the regular. "And don't talk with your mouth full."

She gripped it firmly by the base and pulled her mouth off, "Can we not talk about this right now? I'm trying to suck your dick," she slammed her mouth down so deep I could feel her throat trying to digest its head.

"Ugghh..." I moaned loudly for a protracted period of time. Seriously, I suck cock like a goddamned champion. Dudes have stalked me for my skills, and I have no fucking idea what she was doing to be so good. I moaned again. Legitimately, I've tried to pay attention so I can steal her tricks and it doesn't feel like she's doing anything unique. She's just better. It would almost be annoying if it weren't so fucking good. I looked down to watch her perform her art. My abs were a bit obscured at the bottom and the way the skin was bunching hid the last two groups. Not enough crunched. I'll need to skip a few meals, too. I flopped back as my hips bucked up to drive it deeper into her mouth. "I mean, 8 years is long enough, right?" I put my forearm over my eyes and involuntarily bucked again. "That's why God created reconciliation and second chances, right?"

She pulled her mouth off again, "You don't believe in God and I don't want a second chance," she kissed her way back to my lips and then shimmied the lower part of herself onto me.

"Uggh," I pulled out of the kiss and moaned in her ear as I wrapped my hand behind her head and gripped a fistful of thick black hair. My hips bucked to try and get deeper.

"Careful!" she leaned onto my chest and pulled her hips up skillfully. "You forget you're like a foot and a half taller than me."

"Sorry," I grabbed each cheek of her supple buttocks firmly with each hand as I gingerly guided her along me. I leaned forward to try and flip her onto her back so I could, er, have my way, as it were.

She grabbed me by both wrists and flopped them over my head, leaning her whole weight on them. "Nuh, uh uh," she said as she pulled a hand off my wrist and put a finger to my lips. She slid off me, reached into the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed, and pulled out two pair of handcuffs.

"Oh ho ho, I'm sorry officer, did I do something wrong?" I slid myself up to the headboard of the bed and leaned back against it, dropping both arms to my sides.

"You've been a very naughty boy," she said as she climbed back on me, taking me into her again. "Mmmmh," she softly wimpered into my ear as I throbbed inside her. She was right, viagra was absolutely unnecessary. She locked my hands into the slats of the headboard as she slowy worked her hips up and down. I believe those rap guys call it "twerking." She pulled off again and stood next to the bed, giving me a passionate kiss before she started waggling her hips away.

"Hey, where are you going?" I watched her supple ass, with just the absolute perfect amount of jiggle, undulate away from me.

"You've been particularly naughty," she turned at the waist and propped her hand on her hip. "I have something special for you."

"Ooo, be nice officer," I shook my lower half, causing myself, who was very at attention, to waggle back and forth a bit. "Be gentle. I am weak and fleshy."

"Ugh," she sighed, her hand dropping from her hip as she sauntered away, disappearing into the back en-suite. She reappeared shortly, wrapped in a scandelously silky robe, followed by a posh, swarthy young man carrying a gun.

"Raul?" My boner was still embarassingly raging. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Hit, bro," he started screwing on a silencer. "Baby here needs a new Lamborghini," he held an open palm to Rosa.

"First off, before you get any farther than this, check your contract. I just bought it out," I furrowed my brow and cocked my head to the side. "So, killing me will yield no payday. Second, you two are working together?"

"Fuck, really?" Rosa bounded to the night stand and checked her phone. "Shit, he's right. Hit was retracted from the bounty board. Fuck!" she dropped her hands to her side and locked eyes with Raul.

"Um, hi?" I jingled the cuffs against the headboard.

She completely ignored me, "so, what do we do now?"

Raul made a head motion to me without breaking eye contact with Rosa. She made a look at him I couldn't see and then he turned his head toward me, and double-taked. "Wait, are you still hard?" Raul finally acknowledged me. "Jesus, man."

"What?" I looked down at my pulsing member innocently.

Rosa made another face at Raul that I couldn't see. "Wait, really?" he looked at me again briefly before furrowing his forehead and dropping his mouth open at her.

"Well," Rosa ran her hands down the front of her body and shook herself against the silky robe, "I mean, just look at it."

Raul locked eyes onto me, or rather it, and raised his eyebrows, pushed his lips together and turned his head to the side, "it is pretty glorious, the way it's glistening in the light just so from your juices." he pulled his lower lip up and bit the top of his soul patch, flaring his nostrils.

"Wait, is what's about to happen what I think's about to happen?" I batted my head back and forth between Rosa and Raul.

"You fuck me, he fucks you?" Rosa said to Raul, still not acknolwedging me.

"Done," he said as he shrugged, bounded to the nightstand, put his pistol down, and started taking off his sport coat.

Rosa undid her robe and put her phone down on the nightstand next to Raul's gun. "If you get off before me or Raul, I swear to God, I will shoot your dick off myself. Got it?"

"Fuck yeah," I throbbed with excitement. She open-hand slapped me. Hard. "Sorry mistress. Yes, mistress."

"Much better," she kissed me aggressively on the lips. "If you're lucky, I might even let you have sloppy seconds."