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by Mrs. M Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Other · #1705375
Hitwoman Shirley Venom is tapped to investigate a murder at Go-Go Bordello, a brothel in..
Chapter 1
I’ve always loved sex. The primal grunts, the sweat on skin, the raw, uninhibited vulnerability of the willing participant. Everything about sex is perfect. It’s a gift. Something to keep us happy and content in a world filled with death, disease and destruction. The poor can do it, the deprived can do it, hell almost anyone can do it. No matter how down and out you are, you can always find comfort in the arms of a stranger. And by stranger I mean anyone, because no matter how well we think we know each other, we’re all little more than perfect strangers. We all hide the darkest parts of ourselves that we don’t want others to see. That’s not to say you can’t catch a momentary glimpse into the soul of your stranger. You may disagree here but I believe that in that moment of complete elation, where bodies meet and DNA is exchanged, we can look inside the eyes of who we’re with and see them at their most primal, their most vulnerable, and know that at least for that moment, we have connected. Which is just what Ethan here is about to do.
“Yes. Yes. You’re fucking incredible” he muttered as he slid his hand up my back. Ethan may have been a little naïve, but that’s what made him so irresistible. He was a trusting boy of about 24, so eager and ready to believe anything I told him. He and I met earlier that day at Weston’s Diner down the road. At first the pair of us made small talk about the types of rigs the trucks outside the restaurant had, but we wound up sitting and talking for hours over two half eaten cherry pies and countless cups of coffee. Probably too many cups of coffee. After the second or third Ethan began to get noticeably jittery, bouncing his knee uncontrollably as he listened and spoke. This quality seemed slightly annoying at the time, but now I was grateful. Thanks to Folger’s, I was getting fucked like a goddamn jackhammer.
Ethan gripped me harder, his fingertips wet with sweat and clawing their way up my thighs. Once he reached my waist the boy took a long look at me from top to bottom before grabbing my ass with both hands and flipping me on my back. He put one hand under my knee and lifted it slightly. Once, twice, three times he pushed himself into me. Each time there was more force behind his movement, causing the bed to slowly begin ejecting itself from the headboard. Four, five, six, even harder now, I began to hear a small crack in the frame of the bed. Naturally I ignored it, and moved my hand up his tattooed chest, past his neck and began tousling his short, messy, light blonde hair.
The boy slowed his movement for a moment and began surveying my body again. His gaze began at my hazel eyes and moved to my long, chocolate brown hair which spilled past my perfectly shaped if not slightly small breasts. From there he moved down my torso to my stomach, flat and tight and soft with a medium sized freckle that sat right below my navel. My skin was very Irish and very pale, making me seem very delicate. Ironic considering I was anything but.
With a lustful grunt Ethan moved his body closer into me, running his hands up my arms, past my forearms and to my wrists. He grabbed them both and guided them above my head. His fingers intertwined with mine, wrapping around each digit until they were entangled. Were I any other girl I would assume that this boy would be a delicate man. Fragile, with heart that is easily broken. However knowing what I knew about men like Ethan, I could tell you with certainty that was not the case. Although he seemed sweet over pie I knew that beneath the kind exterior lurked a man that was a criminal, a troublemaker, and someone that was just plain no good. Well, mostly no good. At this thing, this one thing, he happened to be very, very good.
Sensing I was close to climaxing, Ethan grabbed onto my thigh with his hands, pushing himself closer into me. With one hand gripping the boy’s back and the other clenched tightly around a fistful of his bed sheet, I moved my body up and down, back and forth against his.
Instinctively my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I just let go. I moaned and groaned and moved in harmony with this boy, my legs wrapping around his and feeling grateful that God ever had the bright idea to make man.
Simultaneously he let his guard down, grunting like a predator feasting on his prey.
And for just a moment, as my body rose and fell with his in perfect synchronization, our sweat blending and our hearts pounding, I almost forgot who I was.
With a hard thud the boy collapsed on the bed beside me, panting heavily. A look of contentment spread across his face. “Oh. My. God.” He declared giddily.
“No baby, you can just call me Shirley Venom.” I said jokingly, holding his face with my hands.
The boy put his hand to his heart and gripped his chest dramatically but in jest. “Jesus! I think my heart is going to fucking explode!” he sighed excitedly. “You always work that damn hard?”
“At everything. Yes. I do.” I glanced over and saw him laying there, a goofy grin spread across his face. The clothes that we had been wearing-t-shirt and jeans for me, Dickies and a white Hanes t-shirt for him-were scattered across his bedroom, strewn about in complete disarray. I hadn’t really had a chance to check out his place earlier but Ethan had a pretty impressive house. There were the typical bachelor pad clichés (food, function or electronic), but the possessions he had were very expensive. Bose home theatre system, all types of gaming consoles, even one of those Sleep Number beds that cost so much they don’t give you the price upfront. Yep, whatever Ethan did he sure made a lot of money doing it.
Lazily he turned his head towards me and smiled. This was awkward.
Politely I gave him a grin before getting up and walking over to his bathroom. I had to collect my thoughts. What was I going to say to this guy?
Luckily I didn’t have to worry about that too long. Turns out Ethan’s a talker. A compulsive talker. While we were in the diner I thought he was rambling because he was nervous. Turns out that’s just who he is. And while I admit I did find it kind of annoying, I was a definitely relieved that I wasn’t the one having to fill the silence.
“…I mean, my brother is out there making big fucking dollars, Mr. Dr., Mr. Savior of the Family and of course mom is disappointed in me because he’s out there making it and I’m stuck in this Podunk town…”
“Fucking me?” I replied cheekily to his reflection in the mirror while pulling up my jeans.
“No! You know I don’t mean it like that.”
“It’s ok.”
“I just get so frustrated man.” Ethan said, his head hanging low. His eyes were sad and unsure. He looked up at the ceiling, and began staring off into space, clearly thinking about something important. Probably his family.
“What is it you said you do again?” I asked casually, eyeing his reflection in the mirror as I applied a second coat of mascara. Ethan began fidgeting with his gray and brown sheets while nervously tousling his hair.
“Um, I do some sort of…under the table work.” He stuttered, reaching for a quick alibi.
I walked over to him and bent over to look him in the eyes. “No need to explain to me, kiddo. You may not think you’re good enough for your parents, but you sure seem good enough to me.” I said, planting a kiss on his soft lips. As I did so he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me towards him.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” He said, planting a kiss on my cheek. This intimacy made me uncomfortable, so I wiggled out from his embrace.
“Yes, I am.” I replied.
“No you’re not! You’re good. I can tell. One of the good guys.” Ethan was propped up on his elbows, now eyeing me through his mirror. I made my way over to the duffel bag I had left on his oak dresser and began to riffle through my things. I avoided his gaze like the plague.
“No, no I am a very bad guy.” I replied gravely. “I’m wicked.”
“And beautiful.” Ethan replied adoringly.
“And stubborn.”
“And smart”
“And selfish.”
“And sexy.”
As I reached into my faded green shoulder bag I looked into his eyes through the mirror before turning around to face him. “And dangerous.” I said solemnly, pumping three straight bullets into his chest.

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