I didn’t wanna be turned on by them acting like this, but I fuckin’ was, too frustrated from being around Lilah all day, her fat lips and blue eyes stealing my fuckin’ breath at every turn.
Jules reached out and, gripping the end of my shirt, pulled it over my head. If I squinted my eyes, the bitch could almost pass for Lilah, fooling my mind into believing she was here, with me, fuckin’ wet and wanting my cock.
“Where’d you get these clothes?” I slurred, pulling on the ties.
Tiff joined Jules in unzipping my jeans, and she said, “Sex shop. It’s amazing how many men get off on the Amish look. Hungering for virgin * they know they ain’t ever gonna touch.”
I wasn’t surprised it was popular. I was gone for virgin *. I was one of those sick fucks turned on by those fuckin’ awful clothes. I was getting off nightly on the image of Lilah crying my name, her loose dress wrapped around her waist and that bald fuckin’ * in my face and all up in my mouth.
Gripping Tiff’s headdress ties, I yanked her forward and crashed my lips to hers, almost bruising her with the force, only to push her back, plant my palm on her head, and force her to her knees. “Suck my cock, Lilah,” I ordered, hissing when her hot mouth sucked me down, my tip hitting the back of her throat.
I shot faster than ever, coming like a damn fountain as I pictured Lilah down there, fucking requesting to swallow my cum…
The details after that weren’t clear, but I knew I’d fucked those Lilah wannabes in every hole until I couldn’t even get hard anymore.
I may have fucked Tiff and Jules, but in my head it had been Lilah. All fucking Lilah. And those bitches knew it too, manipulative cunts.
Running my hand down my stomach, I gripped my hard dick and began to stroke my fist up and down, ignoring the two sleeping sluts beside me. Never before had a bitch got under my skin like this. Never had I imagined those sluts as anyone else.
Feeling light hands cover mine, I saw Jules’s bloodshot tired eyes look up, that fuckin’ headdress still on her head. Her hand nudged mine outta the way, her mouth dropping to feast on my balls.
Lilah… Lilah… I thought watching that headdress bob up and down.
Giving in to my sick fantasy, I closed my eyes as Jules worked me over until, on a loud roar, I came all over my stomach, so fuckin’ hard I almost passed out.
Shit, I thought as I caught my breath.
The bitch had given me a messed-up fetish for Amish clothes.
*****
Four Weeks Later…
“We got runs tomorrow. Ky, you lead the deal with the Chechens in Houston. Tank, Bull, Smiler, AK. Flame, you can stay here and watch the compound. Hush and Cowboy, I’m sending you to San Antonio. Sandman, San Antonio prez, is cutting a side deal with the Italians, some laundering ring. Being nomads, you’ve both dealt with Marcello. Need you there to show support for our Texan brothers.”
I translated everything Styx was signing, and the brothers nodded.
Styx coughed, and I watched his hands. “I’ll be gone three days. Got personal shit to do. Any problems, Ky’ll be acting prez.” As soon as I translated, I met eyes with Styx, who, although looking at me, offered no more explanation about where the hell he was going.
“We done?” Styx signed.
Brothers said, “Aye,” and Styx slammed down the gavel. Everyone piled out, but I hung back.
Styx expected it. My best friend remained sitting, waiting for me to speak.
“Where you going that you haven’t told me about?”
“A-a-away,” he stuttered, shrugging his shoulders.
I raised my eyebrow. “Mae going?
He nodded.
“Anyone else?”
He shook his head.
I smiled.
“Go. Take your bitch away. I got the runs covered.”
“D-done,” Styx said and stood. “L-l-leave t-t-tonight. B-b-back in a few.”
Styx left, and I walked down the hallway, climbed the back stairwell to Styx’s apartment, and knocked on Lilah’s door.
For the Hangmen, the last four weeks had been uneventful. Deals were struck; club finances were good. The garage and our other legit businesses were turning profit.