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Subject: {ASSM} Ex-citement, Part 1 by Delta Venus
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Ex-citement, Part 1 - a Story
  by Delta Venus

Copyright 2009


The phone call was a bolt of lightning out of clear blue sky.
Electrifying. Frightening. Totally unexpected, and disconcerting.
Brad. She hadn't seen or heard from Brad in ages! A small part of her
had suspected he might be dead. He was very much alive, though, and he
was speaking to her.

"Kris, you gotta help me! I don't have anyone else I can trust!"

/Oh, shit!/ thought Kris. /I can't help him! He'll get me involved in
something crazy for sure. But I can't *not* help him, I owe him. I owe
him big. Shit!/

"OK, Brad, calm down. I'll help you if I can, because I owe you, but
if this is just one of your crazy-ass stunts, or some get-rich-quick
scheme that backfired, count me right out!"

"It isn't anything like that, Kris. I'm so glad you'll help me, I feel
much better already. Meet me at the Blue Duck motel tomorrow morning,
eight sharp, and try not to let anyone see you. Love ya Kris!"

Click.

/Shit!/


**************

/Why did I do that?/  thought Brad. /I couldn't help myself! She was
always so guilible.../ He chuckled to himself.

Brad was in town on business, and had only decided to call his old
flame on a lark. See if there were still some sparks, maybe have a
little fun. Finding out she was now married hadn't slowed him down, he
had always been a bit of a cad. Still, he hadn't planned on getting so
melodramatic, just a little flirty. Hoping she might be willing to
play the bored housewife wanting some excitement. When he heard her
voice, though, the lies were out of his mouth before he had any chance
of thinking. Now the hook was set, all he had to do was play the line
properly. This would be exciting, fun, a ton of laughs, and sure to
get him laid.

/Brilliant!/

**************

Kris had trouble sleeping that night. She couldn't stop thinking about
the past. Brad had been an exciting boyfriend, the bad boy all younger
girls want. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Exciting! He was a criminal,
mostly petty stuff, but still involved in things that were illegal and
scary. Drugs. Stolen goods. Bad checks. His friends were an assortment
of bad characters from the wrong parts of town, low level bikers,
wanna-be gangsters, dealers and pimps.

Thinking about some of the adventures she had been dragged into merely
by being around Brad created a misty, vaporous feeling of nostalgia,
and a solid, iron-clad feeling of terror. Kris was scared. Violence
had never seemed very far away when Brad was around. Violence surely
couldn't be far away this time!

When she finally did succumb to slumber, she immediately began to
dream. Vivid, colorful, full of intense emotions, this dream was
nothing but highly erotic. The dream was based on a time Brad had
shared her sexually with a "friend", mostly to eliminate a substantial
drug debt. The actual event hadn't been all that pleasurable. It
hadn't bothered her to do this thing for Brad, and she had been mildly
aroused at the kinkiness of it, but the biker just wasn't attractive
to her, or all that skilled at lovemaking, and mildly aroused is the
best it had gotten, even with Brad putting his considerable skills to
work.

This time it was two biker buddies Brad was sharing her with, not one.
Both were big and burly, scary looking, but roughly attractive and
exciting. Kris was wet the moment the dream Brad suggested they all
get "friendly". The sex was rough, not scary rough, but enough to
convey a sense of power, of being controlled. These guys knew what
they wanted, and they were going to take it. Not only did they know
what they wanted, they knew what they were doing! Screwing like this
was the stuff of dreams, they knew all the right places, they had all
the right moves, relentless, forceful, attentive, appreciative,
encouraging. They made her do things she thought she would never do in
bed, sexually perverted things, nasty things, and they made her like
them!

Kris woke suddenly in the midst of an intense multiple orgasm, her
body covered with a slick sheen of sweat, pussy on fire, the sheets
soaked with her juices, her body wracked with convulsive contractions,
nerves jangling like overstrung wire. Four times she came after she
awoke, who knew how many orgasms she had had while still in the grips
of the dream. She lay in her bed, exhausted, in spite of just having
slept. The alarm went off.

/Shit!/

*************

Brad had no trouble falling asleep that night. Before he went to bed
he made a few phone calls to set things up for the weekend, and cut up
some newspapers to just the right size, bundling them in rubber band
bound stacks with a $20 bill on top and a couple of $1's mixed in the
middle for color, making a very convincing pile of "cash" when he was
done. He then drank some of the beer he'd bought at a convenience
store close to the motel, daydreaming about Kris as he sipped the cold
brew. Once he had a decent buzz going, he stripped off his clothes,
crawled into bed, and was out like a light.

The alarm woke him in the morning, and he practically sprang out of
bed. Normally he was neither an early riser, nor the type who was
quick to get out of bed, but he was extremely excited with
anticipation of the events he had set up with the phone calls the
night before.

/Will Kris go for it?/ he thought. /Of course she will! The setup is
way too slick, and I know her too well for this not to work./ He still
had some minor doubts, but he shoved them to the back of his mind, and
prepared for Kris's arrival, and the fun and games to begin.

*************

The Blue Duck Motel was definitely not in the best part of town, which
did not please Kris in the slightest. She pulled up just moments
before eight, and parked her Subaru wagon in the nearest guest space.
The motel had seen better days, or maybe it had always been a dump,
even when it was new. It wasn't new now. The outside badly needed some
paint and a little light carpentry, the parking lot had numerous weed-
filled cracks, and the outside lighting and signs, still glowing with
a pale yellow dinginess, were missing some bulbs and letters.

Brad hadn't given her his room number, and she didn't know what he was
driving these days. He used to ride a Harley, but there weren't any
motorcycles in the parking lot. She went into the office, through a
glass door so dirty it almost looked tinted, and went up to the check-
in counter. The clerk behind the counter fit right in with the decor,
a faded, dumpy looking man, skin and hair mostly grey, except for a
dark five-o'clock shadow. She asked the clerk what room Brad was in,
and he didn't seem to hear her. At least he didn't look up from the
magazine he was reading.

/Is that a porno magazine? Fuck, what am I getting myself into!?/

She coughed, and asked again.

"I heard ya the first time," muttered the clerk. "Hold your horses."
He set the magazine down, and Kris saw the cover very clearly as he
made no attempt to hide it, or put it somewhere she wouldn't see it.
_Threeway Sluts_, with a burned out looking brunette with huge tits
sucking a cock, while another was being shoved into her shaved
snatch. /Classy. I wonder what they saved for inside.../ thought
Kris. /Never mind, I don't want to know!/

"I have him registered in room 2c, that's up on the second floor. If
you are going to be staying..." The clerk delivered that last remark
with a lilt in his voice, and a leer, making no secret of looking over
Kris's body.

"No, no," stammered Kris, a little embarrassed. "We're meeting for
breakfast to discuss some business."

"Business. Of course."

The clerk didn't sound like he believed her for a second, but he also
didn't sound like he gave a damn.

/I should have been prepared for that,/ Kris thought. /A seedy motel
in the bad part of town, of course he thinks I'm a hooker! What else
could he think? Fuck it! Who cares what this perverted jerk thinks.../

She quickly left the office, found the nearest staircase and went on
up to the second floor. 2c was near the front, so she found it right
away. She knocked on the door, and it quickly opened. Brad was still
half dressed. /And all man! Whew, I'd forgotten how attractive he is.
I'll have to be careful!/ Kris thought.

"Oh, thank god!" Brad exclaimed. "I was worried you wouldn't show.
Come in, come in!"

Brad had been up for quite some time, and could have been fully
dressed and ready to receive visitors. He had deliberately put that
off, knowing Kris had always admired his manly chest. He'd put on a
couple of pounds since the old days, but wore it quite well, and still
looked to be in great shape. He noticed Kris looking at him, and
almost smiled with amusement, but suppressed it quickly. He didn't
want to scare her off before the games had even begun!

"I'll just be a minute, go ahead and have a seat."

The only chair in the room was covered with junk, a briefcase,
clothing, some papers and other clutter, so Kris reluctantly sat on
the edge of the bed. She couldn't help being a little nervous, after
all here she was alone with a man in his motel room, and everyone
knows what goes down in motel rooms, on motel beds. Actually she had
already been nervous, because she didn't know what Brad wanted, but
sitting on his bed added to that nervousness quite a bit. She had been
intimate with him in the past, many times in motel rooms much like
this one, and thoughts of those events flickered through her mind. She
suddenly realized that the nervous energy was very exciting.

/Oh, shit! Why am I getting a charge out of this? I should be ready to
run away, screaming! Part of me still wants to. Is it just because
he's attractive? Is it the danger that always seems to hang around him
like a cloud?  Why?/

Brad took his time selecting a shirt, and looked at Kris in the mirror
over the banged up particle board dresser. /Damn, she looks good!/ She
did, too. She was dressed casually, a light print fake silk blouse, a
pair of loose fitting matching shorts that came about half way down
her thighs, and a pair of pink Reeboks with the shorty socks that left
her ankles, well-turned ankles, exposed. Lightly tanned, she had kept
herself in great shape. Her breasts still rode high and perky, and her
hips might be a little wider than in her youth, but all that did was
accentuate how curvy she was, and how long and smooth her legs were.
Her face was more cute than beautiful, with a bit of a pug nose, and
pouty lips. She had a new hair style, loosely flowing back around her
ears, just about shoulder length, and he noticed she had gone back to
her real color, a dirty straw blonde. /Quite fuckable!/ Careful to not
get caught looking, Brad admired her sexy form, especially her well-
toned legs, for as long as he thought he could, then pulled on the
shirt he had already picked out, and turned to face her. /Time to get
this game rolling.../


*************

Kris still couldn't believe Brad had talked her in to this, but here
she was, heading out of the motel parking lot, with a duffel bag full
of cash in the back seat. She wasn't sure she bought his story about
needing to make a payoff, but being afraid to do it himself because he
was, in his words, "a little late".

/Fuck! What have I gotten myself into?/ Kris thought, and not for the
last time.

The part of town she was heading into was on the edge of the barrio,
not a nice place. She was more than a little frightened to be going
there, especially with a bag full of money. What Kris didn't know was
that while the barrio was still basicaly a ghetto, the area next to it
that she was heading for had been undergoing urban renewal, with
yuppie types buying up properties and improving them, and was almost
thoroughly gentrified now. There were enough of the older buildings
left, and many of the newer ones still kept the old frontages for
historic reasons, so that it looked bad, and all the faces she saw
were Hispanic, which did nothing to alleviate her fears. If she had
looked closer at those Hispanics, she'd have noticed the upscale
clothing and pampered look of those with money to spend, but she
didn't even want to make eye contact, so those obvious clues slipped
right past her.

She found the address she was supposed to, parked her car in an
underground lot beneath the building, and clutching the bag tightly,
took the elevator up to the fifth floor, where she guessed apartment
505 would be. She guessed right, and was at the door of the apartment
before she could even catch her breath. Again, she was missing some
rather obvious clues that things weren't exactly as she had been told,
or was expecting. The parking garage was in good shape, and held lots
of cars, almost none of them more than three years old. The elevator
was clean, in good repair, and free of graffiti. The halls were well
lit, the carpet in them clean and new. This wasn't the wrong side of
the tracks. Way too freaked out to be paying any attention, all of
this went unnoticed.

She knocked on the door, heard some noises from inside, but it took a
minute before the door was finally answered, still secured by one of
those chains that only let it open a few inches. A blocky, blotchy,
bearded face, with sunken, squinty eyes and big, bushy eyebrows
scowled at her through the crack.

"Whatta ya want?" the scowling face demanded gruffly.

"Ummm, I'm here because Brad sent me," Kris stammered. "I've got your
money."

"Damn, leave it to that little pussy to send someone else. He knew
we'd kick the shit out of him, even if he did have all our money. It
better all be there, or there's gonna be hell to pay!

The door slammed shut, there was the noise of the chain being removed,
then the door popped open again, wide open this time.

"Come on in sugar tits!" said the bearded man. "Don't mind the mess,
it don't get much cleaner. So you brought our money? That it?" he
said, pointing at the duffel Kris was carrying.

"Yes, yes it is." Kris stepped inside, and the man closed the door,
and re-latched the chain securing it. The sound of the chain made Kris
more than a little nervous, it wouldn't be easy to escape in a hurry
if she felt the need. The room reminded her of a college dorm: dirty
clothes, beer containers, and pizza boxes scattered about with no
rhyme or reason. The older furniture wasn't in bad shape, and would
have looked great, except it was mostly covered with old newspapers,
magazines, and grimy oil-stained rags. At least the magazines weren't
smut, like that creep back at the motel had been flashing. They seemed
to be mostly about motorcycles or guns.

She had a better look at the bearded biker. He wore disgustingly dirty
jeans held up with a piece of chain, and no shirt, exposing a slightly
sunken chest and a full keg of a belly, both fully covered with wiry
black hair. Lots of hair, but not enough to hide the blue ink tattoo
of an eagle on his breast plate, the wings extending onto his pecs. He
noticed her looking, and puffed up a little. "Real beaut, huh? I got
that done in 'Nam!" He chuckled softly to himself, slapping the tattoo
loudly with his palm. Then he coughed, and spit up a huge gob into one
of the pizza boxes laying in the corner. /Fucking disgusting!/ thought
Kris. /Keep cool, girl, just do what you came to do, and get the hell
out of here!/

This mass of a man grabbed the duffel rudely, tossed it on the glass
topped coffee table, roughly scattered the clutter from a spot on the
couch, and sat down. He unzipped the bag, and started pulling out
stacks of cash, wrapped in rubber bands. Kris almost freaked when she
saw this. She knew she was carrying money, but had no idea the bag had
been so full! Brad hadn't let her look, or count it ahead of time.
This was some serious business! Now she knew why Brad had been so
scared. If she owed this biker that kind of money, she'd have been
frightened out of her skull. He seemed to pay her no attention while
he counted the stacks, so she just stood there barely inside the door,
watching him count.

"Whatta ya know! It's all there, plus a little vig. Now we won't have
to kill him!" The biker burst out laughing at his own humor, if he was
joking. Kris really wasn't sure.

"Yes, Brad said he threw in a little extra, for being overdue, and the
inconvenience."

"And because he knew we'd never do fucking business with him again if
he didn't," growled the biker. "We might still just have to kick the
shit out of him, so he don't get any funny ideas, and so the rest of
the people we do business know better than to fuck us around!" He got
up off the couch, and plowed through the mess towards a closet.
"Still, it ain't quite enough. You are going to do us a favor, sugar
tits. Brad would have been doing it if he'd had the cojones to show up
himself, but since he sent you, you will have to do it."

He rummaged around in the closet for a minute, before hauling out a
big brown cardboard box. He started pulling items out of the box, and
stuffing them in the duffel bag that had carried the money, which was
now empty. He did this quickly, so Kris didn't get the best look at
what he was packing into the duffel, but he wasn't trying to hide what
he was doing. Kris caught a glimpse of a couple of clear plastic bags
full of white powder, and several other shiny black items that looked
suspiciously like guns. /Oh, holy fuck! I'm doomed. I'm fucking
doomed!/

"You, little lady, are going to deliver this bag to the other side of
town for me, just like you delivered it here, and nothing had better
be missing when you get there. The vatos don't like to be screwed over
and more than I do. In fact, they take it a little more personally
than me, and when they take things personally, they get *real
personal*. You understand me, don't you, sugar tits?"

Kris could only stand there nodding dumbly. She was still quite
shocked.

"Here's the address. Know how to get there? Good. Get going already.
My partner will be back soon, and if you are still here, he may just
want to get back at Brad, and you'll do for something to work with.
You are lucky he was out, I'm not so crude." He grinned, unchained the
door, and held it open for her with a flourish. "On your way, madame!"

/Jesus Christ! Brad knew something like this was going to happen, that
fucker. I may kill him myself!/ thought Kris as she pulled her car out
of the underground parking, and headed on her way to deliver a bag
full of drugs and guns to some mexican mafia heavies.

****************

Ring.

"Brad speaking."

"Dude! She is just as hot as you said. She's on her way now, so I hope
you got Pete lined up already."

"Yes, Cameron, Pete is waiting to encounter the lady as we speak. Told
you she was a number, didn't I?"

"Fuck yes! You sure we are gonna get a piece of that?"

"Don't worry your fucked up beard about it, you'll be hitting it
before the weekend is over."

"You should have seen her eyes when I started loading the powdered
sugar and squirt guns into the bag. Those are some realistic looking
toys, man. I was surprised she didn't break down the door, and run
away screaming at the top of her lungs. It was fucking priceless!"

Brad laughed. "Yes, I would have liked to see that! Luckily I will get
to see the next episode, though. I'll tape it so you and Buddy can
watch it later."

"Cool, bro. I'll be talking to ya."

Click.

Brad laughed some more. /If only Kris knew who that "biker" really
was!/ While it had been easy to talk Cameron into playing a tough guy,
it hadn't been so easy to talk his attorney friend into trashing his
stylish apartment, but Kris wasn't stupid, and if there were too many
clues she would catch on, and the weekend would be shot. He kept
chuckling to himself for a while, thinking both about what the
expression on Kris's face must have been like after seeing the "drugs"
and "guns", and what the look on Cameron's face had been like when
they had finished trashing the trendy one-bedroom - sort of a mix
between someone about to throw up and someone who'd been kneed in the
balls. Brad turned on his laptop, fired up a video conferencing
program, and waited for Pete to start sending him a signal.

****************

WHOOOOOOOOOP!

"Oh, fuck me!" exclaimed Kris loudly, her eyes snapping instantly to
her rear view mirror. She did *not* like what she saw. A motorcycle
cop was right behind her, lights flashing. She seriously considered
making a run for it, but couldn't work up the courage, so she pulled
the car over, shakinng badly. /Pull it together, girl! It'll probably
just be a ticket for something stupid./

She took several deep breaths, trying to calm down, but she just
couldn't stop shaking with fear. She knew that the bag on the backseat
was big trouble. If the cop discovered it, she'd be heading downtown
in cuffs. Divorce! A trial! Prison! A butch cellmate wanting...  /
Fucking stop it!/ Kris practically screamed to herself.

The cop was big. Very big. And black. Very black. He knocked on her
window, and she rolled it down.

"Would you step out of the car please, miss?"

"What's the problem, officer?" Kris stammered.

"I need you to step out of the car, miss. Then we can talk about what
the problem is." He flashed her a grin, revealing a large gold tooth.

Kris fumbled with the seat belt, finally getting it unbuckled, and
opened her door. She almost fell to the pavement as she got out, her
knees were jelly and didn't want to support her.

"Whoa!" said the big black cop. "Better come around to this side, and
get away from that traffic. We can't have you getting hurt, miss."

He helped her around the front of the car, until they were standing
just forward of the passenger door, on the side away from the street.

"Now, considering where I saw you coming from, I'm going to have to
pat you down for weapons. Those bikers you were visiting are known
felons, and dangerous ones at that." He gently, but firmly bent Kris
over the hood of the car, pressing her down until her breasts were
smashed flat against it. He kicked her legs apart, and began working
his hands up her legs from the ankles, slowly and smoothly, almost
caressing. He went all the way up, right inside the leg bands of her
shorts, stopping only when he hit the point where her legs became
something else. He didn't quite rub her pussy, but he came damn close.
He worked his hands back down outside the shorts, then quickly cupped
her buttocks. Before she could exclaim or protest, he had moved on,
working down from her shoulders this time, feather light touches of
her arms, then back to her body. He let her lift up just a little, and
cupped both breasts lightly, quickly moving down across her belly, and
then removing his hands and stepping back.

Kris felt violated. This cop had just felt her up! /I should be saying
something! If I don't, he'll either think I'm a slut, or that I'm
hiding something.../ Still she couldn't work herself up to making a
protest, though. He hadn't lingered on her thighs or breasts, he had
seemed very businesslike and methodical, in spite of touching her
places only a lover or a doctor should be touching. /Maybe they always
do it that way?/

The cop opened up the back door of the Subaru, and Kris sputtered
"Don't you need a warrant? You can't just go through my things!" She
was almost in tears. She could see the duffel right there on the back
seat, and she knew she was dead meat.

"I don't need one, miss. I have what you call probable cause. I know
who you were visiting. I'm pretty sure I know what is in that bag that
is making you so nervous, too. So, why don't you sit there on the
backseat, with your legs still outside, so you can't do anything in a
hurry, and if you don't do anything stupid, we'll just have ourselves
a little talk."

Kris might have been missing obvious clues all day, but this wasn't
one of them. This big black cop obviously had something in mind for
their "talk", and Kris was pretty sure what it would be. She felt
sudden relief. She wasn't going to jail! She might have to fuck her
way out of this, but that sure beat the hell out of being arrested.

"I think you know what it is going to take to get me to go away..."

Kris looked both ways, and could see that the foliage at the side of
the road, and the open door were blocking any passerby from being able
to see what was happening. The cop had picked his spot well. She
sighed, and unzipped his pants, freeing what had to be the biggest
cock she had ever seen! Her hand could barely circle its thickness,
and it was at least ten inches long. She might have spent some time
admiring it under other circumstances, but she wanted to get this over
and done with, so she went right to work. Kris had always prided
herself on being able to give a killer blowjob, so she went at the
task with all the skills she knew she had. She wanted this cop happy,
and she wanted him to cum quickly, so she could be on her way, and end
this nightmare of a day.

The cop lightly touched her face a few times as she bobbed on his
knob, and never took his eyes off her. Every time she looked up, he
was looking her right in the eye, which made her blush. /Silly to
blush just because he is looking, when I've got his cock bouncing off
my tonsils!/ Kris thought, but it didn't change things, she still
blushed every time they made eye contact. Kris was giving it her all.
She used her hand and her tongue to good effect, pinching the base of
his throbbing cock so it would swell all the more, and be extra
sensitive. She swirled around the head, and let him thrust to the very
back of her throat, almost gagging when he did, but keeping her rhthym
all the while. She worked that cock like her freedom depended on it!
For all she knew, it did.

Dilemma! What was she going to do when he climaxed? She had only had
cum in her mouth once in her life, before she had even given up her
virginity. She had decided that she would never know what it was like
until she tried it, so she had let her boyfriend talk her into it. She
had hated it! Slimy, salty, acrid, disgusting! She had almost puked,
but managed to only spit it out. She remembered how much that old
boyfriend had hated seeing her spit out his fluids. This cop wasn't
going to be happy if she pulled him out of her mouth, and had him
shoot his cum somewhere else. He might make a mess of her blouse, too!
How could she get cleaned up? She was going to have to let him cum in
her mouth, and she was going to have to swallow!

He didn't take long, Kris was giving him the best head he ever had.
Pete had had his cock sucked before, but this girl was really good at
it. The swirly, extra attention to the very sensitive head was
something he'd never experienced, and she took more of him into her
mouth than any other woman had been willing or able to take. He could
understand now all the fuss about deep throat, though even she
couldn't take him all the way in. He felt the tingling in his balls
that signaled her was about to cum, and was surprised when she seemed
to sense it was about to happen and thrust as far down on his rod as
she could. He erupted a massive load right into the back of her
throat, and she eagerly slurped and swallowed it as it shot out,
strand after sticky strand. He felt her gag a little, but she took it
all like a trooper. When he finally subsided, she let his cock slip
from between her slick lips, and licked the last of his spend from the
end of his cock, getting right into the hole. Her lips were shiny with
the last little bit of his semen, until she licked them clean, and
smiled.

"So, do I get a pass, officer?"

"Yes, miss. You are free to go. I'll call this in as a minor traffic
violation, and say I issued you a stern warning. Be careful, you are
dealing with some real scumbags!" The cop tucked himself back into his
pants, and walked back to his motorcycle. Kris was a little please to
see that he seemed a little unsteady on his feet. /I've still got the
skills! Now where can I get something to take this horrible taste out
of my mouth? Fuck it, I can't, I need to finish this damn delivery!"
She got back behing the wheel, and whipped out into traffic in a
hurry. She forced herself to slow down, the last thing she needed was
for another cop to pull her stupid ass over.

*************

/Holy shit!/ thought Brad. /She never did anything like that to me.
She'd never let me cum in her mouth like that!/ He shut down the video
software, and after making a backup copy of the events he had just
witnessed, courtesy of the lapel cam on officer Pete's uniform, he
dumped the video onto a keychain USB drive, and closed down the
laptop.

*************

Stay Tuned for Part 2!

        DV

http://deltavenus.smutisp.com/

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