Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Willy Tamarack
Title: More Juice !
Part: 6 of 12
Universe: 'Vegas
Summary:
Keywords: (M+F FF oral)
Language: English
@(C) 2008 Willy Tamarack Commercial use in any form requires the written
permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds goes to

the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

   !!!!!  ATTENTION !!!!!

   Before we get going here, a couple of notes.  The following is a sex
story.  A stroke story.  A porno story.  The content is unsuitable for
youngsters and some adults may find it objectionable.  I've ensured my
material is properly coded and registered.  Adults, who have custodial
responsibility for young minds, must ensure this smut doesn't fall into
their children's hands.  To charge the government with that
responsibility...Wow !  Don't get me started.

   This story is total fantasy.  It is fiction.  Made up.  As a friend of
my wife calls it, MSU (made shit up).  Las Vegas - The City of JUICE.  The
mobsters coined it but left it to the politicians.  The politicians used it
to enrich the usual suspects.  Their families and friends for sure.  Some
claim it's dead after the recent conviction of several county commissioners
for taking bribes.  They're wrong.  JUICE is alive and well.  Sometimes
it's money.  Sometimes it's sex.  Sometimes it's just an introduction.  The
currency is immaterial.  It's called JUICE !

   And while the plot and subplots of the following tale stem from the
author's fertile imagination; the characters...Well, the characters are
also total fantasy.  They don't exist, never have and never will.  Any
public figures mentioned are for back ground and time line purposes only.

   Remember now...Sex should be fun !  As always e-mail your comments to
the usual.

   More Juice !

   Book VI

   (M+F FF oral)

   by

   Willy Tamarack

   In Tribute

   With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S.  Constitution

   Chapter Sixteen

   "Snake" watched the young Latina stroke Carlos' horse dick.  He stepped
out from behind the bar and approached Colleen.  She was watching Darleen
dancing over Carlos' crotch as Trina stroked his massive cock.  Rusty was
smokin' a blunt and watching the show.  The girl was a good dancer.

   Colleen just felt "Snake" at her side.  She reached out and grabbed a
hold of his cock.  He started working on the buttons of her dress.  Rusty
looked over at them and then grabbed his cock.  Colleen wanted to see the
young Latina's tits.

   Carlos was lying back against the back of the couch and staring up into
the snatch of the party girl while Trina stroked his cock.  He threw his
arm around her shoulder and let his hand dangle on her breast.  She
snuggled closer and increased the cadence of her hand job.  The dancer's
pussy was covered with a short thatch of dark pubes but her plump lips were
clearly visible.

   Carlos crooked his finger at her and then laid his head back as far as
he could.  Darleen moved forward, thrust her crotch out and pressed her
cunt against Carlos' face.  His arm went around her butt and Carlos began
eating her.  Trina didn't know what to do.  "Snake" was naked.  The older
woman was naked.  The helicopter pilot was dropping his jeans.  He had a
hardon !

   "Snake" left Colleen at the bar and crossed the room.  He stood in front
of Trina.  "Looks like your date stood you up." His boner was bouncing
around at eye level.  The girl, sitting on Carlos' face, was moaning what
sounded like, "Oooh !" over and over.  The naked "Snake" was holding out
his hand.  Trina reached to take it.  Carlos had both hands on the girl's
butt cheeks and was reaming his tongue into her cunt.  Darleen was out of
control.  It must be the booze or maybe the dope ?

   "Snake" pulled Trina across the room to the bar and a naked Colleen. 
Colleen threw her arm around the young Latina's shoulders, "You're a little
over dressed, TV star." "Snake" was behind the bar chopping up some lines
of cocaine on the bar.  Colleen reached over and started to unbutton
Trina's blouse which was one of Carlos' dress shirts.  "Snake" was handing
her a dollar bill.

   Rusty came up behind her and now Trina was surrounded by them.  She
imagined Carlos still eating out the young brunette.  She lowered her head
and snorted up a line of coke.  Her head snapped back.  The woman next to
her had pulled her blouse out of her jeans.  Somebody, behind her, was
pulling the blouse off her shoulders.  Her bra was black.

   Colleen was amazed at the size of Trina's tits.  They were huge.  She
reached out and put her hand under one.  "Snake" was staring at them. 
Colleen looked over at the couch and found Carlos still eating Darleen. 
Rusty was reaching around Trina and unbuttoning her jeans.  "Snake" was
leaning across the bar to get a good view.  Trina's jeans were on the way
to the floor and she wasn't wearing any panties.  Her crotch was shaved
clean and smack dab in the center was the deep crevice of her cunt.

   Colleen exclaimed, "Beautiful, dear !" Rusty was grinding his cock
against the young Latina's padded, bare butt.  Colleen's hand headed for
Trina's cunt.  "Snake" was coming out from behind the bar, his cock still
turgid.  It bounced as he walked.  "Get her over on the couch, Rusty."
Colleen took one arm and Rusty took the other.  Her tits bounced as they
pulled Trina across the room to the couch.

   "Snake" followed, stroking his cock.  Carlos had finished eating
Darleen. She was on her knees between his legs, sucking on that monster
cock of his.  He was watching Trina being spread on the couch.  Colleen
wasted no time getting to her knees between Trina's legs.

   "Ooooohhh !  God !  What are you doing to me !" It was more of an
exclamation than question.  Colleen's head was moving between Trina's legs
as she swiped at her shaved cunt with her tongue.  Trina tried to sit up.
Rusty jumped up on the couch and pulled her back.  "Snake" watched, still
stroking.  Darleen's head was still bobbing up and down over Carlos'
crotch.

   Colleen was drilling three fingers in and out of Trina's cunt as she
swiped her tongue across the young TV star's clitoris.  The young thing was
out of her mind.  Her crotch was moving around like it was possessed. 
Trina was moaning and groaning.  She had to be close to orgasm.

   "Pull her legs up and spread'em." "Snake" jumped up on the couch on the
other side from Rusty and grabbed the closest leg.  Rusty already had his
and now the TV star was spread.  Colleen lowered her head and got back to
teasing Trina's clitoris while she shoved three fingers in and out of her
fat cunt.

   When Colleen stopped fingering her, Trina's crotch kept moving about
searching for the fingers that had been rooting around inside of her.  When
she settled down Colleen slid her little finger into Trina's asshole.  It
was like she was electrocuted, her whole body tensed up and then started
shaking.  Rusty jumped off the couch, his cock bouncing around in his
groin. Colleen got to her feet and held Trina spread wide.  Rusty knelt
down and plugged in.

   Trina knew that someone had started fucking her but she had no idea who
it was ?  She'd never been this turned on.  She thought Carlos had been
tremendous but this was better.  The licking was what did it.  Trina loved
the licking.  She wondered if she should tell Carlos ?  She still had her
bra on.  She started laughing as the guy above her continued to fuck his
cock in and out of her.  She was cuming again.

   "Oooh...Yeeesss...More !" She was fucking back at the cock that was
using her.  She was getting gushy, cum was gushing from her cunt as Rusty
unloaded four or five shots of semen into Trina's fat cunt.  "Snake" helped
Rusty get off the girl and then grabbed both of her legs.

   "Snake" laid her length wise on the couch and told her to get to her
knees.  Carlos had disengaged from Darleen and was moving toward the couch.
"Snake" was hard as rock and quickly mounted Trina's butt.  She was full of
cum.  He bottomed out in her and then spread the cheeks of her butt and
drove in another inch.  He kept her cheeks spread as he pummeled the young
TV star.

   Carlos sat down at the far end of the couch.  "Come on, baby.  You want
the big one.  I know it." Trina's head came off the couch but "Snake" kept
fucking her ass off.  Carlos flipped his leg over the back of the couch and
pushed his crotch under Trina's face.  He put his hand on the back of her
head and down she went.  She was getting better at filling her mouth with
his meat.  He encouraged her to take more.

   Darleen was over by the bar draining a margarita.  Rusty was sated,
sitting on the other couch, watching.  Colleen approached Darleen.  "I bet
that was the biggest cock you've ever sucked !" She ran her hand across
Darleen's bare shoulders as she put her arm around her.

   "Shit !  I thought I was going to drown when he came." Darleen laughed.
If only her husband could see her.  A near black man's semen dribbling down
between her tits, standing next to another naked woman.

   "Come on, Darleen.  I want you for myself." Colleen pulled the young
lady to the other couch and before they both sat, had her hand in Darleen's
cunt.

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

   "Yachtsman" rolled over and squinted at the clock above the door.  Jill
was gone.  He looked back at the clock.  Eleven o'clock.  Twenty-three
hundred hours for you sailors.  He bet she couldn't sleep.  Last year they
hadn't been discovered yet.  Shit !  He wasn't sure they were in any more
danger than they were last year.  He just wasn't sure but just in case;
they were a lot more prepared this year than they were last year.

   He rolled out of bed and crawled out of the Captain's Quarters.  The
cross hung above the galley and came with the boat.  "Yachtsman" always
thought having a religious owner was good karma.  He even started going to
church services when they were in port (well, just before they sailed he
went a couple of times).  He crossed himself as he climbed topside.  She
was already dressed in the light gray, full body wet suit, sitting with one
of the computers fired up in her lap.

   "Couldn't sleep ?" Jill asked.  "Yachtsman" was looking about.  The
visibility was in the neighborhood of a mile or so.  The ceiling was below
five hundred feet.  The surface of the inlet was smooth.

   "Let's go now, Jill." They had been planning for a zero two hundred
launch.

   "Aye, aye, captain." She hopped up to both feet, placed the laptop on
the railing, saluted smartly and disappeared down below.  "Yachtsman" heard
her securing the galley for sailing.  He moved forward and rigged the radar
for the six foot antenna; looked around one more time and then went below.

   When he climbed topside again, an hour later, he was dressed in the same
light gray full wet suit that Jill was wearing.  Other than the size it was
difficult to distinguish between the two.  He looked around the inlet.  No
sign of activity.  There was not a breath of wind.  The "Davey Crockett"
stick was in position.

   "Ready to start engines, Mike." They were whispering into small mics
that were fitted into the wet suit hood.

   "Start'em up, Jill." "Yachtsman" moved forward and took the "Davey
Crockett" stick with him as he freed the "Viper" of it's tie downs.  The
stick was about twelve feet long and used to push the "Viper" out of it's
docking position against a bank of reinforced dirt and sandbags.  He looked
back at Jill.  She had the frame lowered with both engines pointed at the
sky, idling.

   "Ready for push off." Jill whispered.

   Mike raised his arm and then lowered it.  The stick went into the
bedding and Mike started walking slowly forward pushing the boat away from
it's mooring.  The "Viper" was moving.  Mike dragged the stick back to the
bow and repeated the exercise.  On this attempt the "Viper" kept moving as
Mike rushed to the bow and started forward again.  The inlet was opening up
in front of them.

   Jill whispered, "Clear."

   "Engage the motors." "Yachtsman" was storing the "Davey Crockett" stick.
He heard then felt the motors go into the water.  Jill was increasing power
instantly.  They were maybe making one knot.  The acceleration at this
weight was slow.

   Both computers were set up for whoever was at the helm.  The other crew
member was just muscle and another set of eyeballs.  Jill was bringing the
"Viper" west.  Mike's head was buried in the computer that was mapping the
shallow spots.  There was only one red spot and "Yachtsman" hoped that
their speed would carry them through.  They were still accelerating.

   Chapter Seventeen

   They had just come through the shallow spot.  Speed was close to six
knots.  Mike now had the helm.  Jill was sitting next to him.  They had a
mile or so to go until they were into open ocean.  The wind had picked up
quite a bit and there was a good swell running.  Some rain showers were
just a few miles north of their position, moving south.  The weather around
them would be getting much worse before it got any better.  Mike was
stoked. They'd just finished discussing going to sail as soon as they got a
mile or so off shore.  Jill got up and moved forward to start preparing to
go to sail.

   The bright green flash of the return froze him.  Mike just stared at the
computer screen.  The green mark was fading but already Mike knew that it
would appear again on the next sweep.  It was really happening.  He'd been
frozen for a hundred and eighty degrees of sweep...Thirty seconds.  They
were being hunted.

   "Get your shit together, Michael." "Yachtsman" thought before slowly
moving the power to eighty-five percent.  The boggy was at ten o'clock,
inside twenty miles.  It would be a good while before they intercepted the
"Viper." He had plenty of time.  First, he'd have to lug the torpedo
topside.

   "You say something, Mike ?" Jill whispered.  She felt the boat
accelerating and knew that was not a good sign.

   "Battle stations, dear." The rush had peaked and now was running up
Jill's back.  Mike Minter was in the zone.  He saw Jill get to her feet and
start to make her way aft.  Right then the "Yachtsman" knew everything was
"A" okay.  The "Viper" was now accelerating through seven knots.  He turned
to computer number two and brought up the satellite.
From: "Yachtsman"
To: "Snake"

   Tora Tora Tora

   "Yachtsman" sat back and thought for a moment.  He was the "on scene
commander." Never believe in coincidence.  Just recently there was the
communication compromise.  He'd sent one message during the time the system
was compromised.  These people just don't sail around doing nothing
especially at this time of the morning.  That's too expensive.  They had to
be waiting for him; which meant that they may still be reading their mail.
Yea, "Tora Tora Tora" was the correct call.  He encrypted and sent it. 
Jill was rubbing his shoulders.

   "Good call, Mike."

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

   Anderson Davies and Mindy Weathers were wide awake when the Canadian
seaman rushed into the break room.  "They've got something !  Not sure what
it is ?  Captain wants you two up stairs." They rushed past the man on the
way to the situation room and burst through the door.

   "...heading still two five five.  Speed seven knots."

   "Set up the intercept to put us a mile behind him.  This weather will
not make that easy.  Let's get this guy." The captain then picked up a red
phone and spoke into it.  "Get your marines ready, lieutenant." The red
phone was cradled.  "Time to intercept ?"

   "Fifty-two minutes, Captain."

   The captain turned to Mindy and Anderson.  "This could be your man.  He
fits the profile.  No one in their right mind would be sailing a small
vessel in this weather.  We're a ways away and will intercept him without
his ever knowing we are here until it's too late.  I can't imagine him
trying to out run us in this weather.  He's probably having a horrible time
about now.  You two can watch the intercept from here."

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

   "Yachtsman" came topside for the forth time, a metal bucket dangling
from each arm.  Jill started talking as soon as he was heading for the bow.

   "Speed and course the same.  I think they've got too much cut off. 
Thirty-nine minutes to intercept."

   "Yachtsman" was kneeling on the bow and tying the buckets to tie downs.
"If you think they have too much cut off, make them pay for it, Jill." He
immediately felt the "Viper" start to slow.  He had two mortar-like pipes
that were welded to steel plates attached to the decking in a manner that
allowed him to fire projectiles at three different angles.

   He'd decided to set the mortars to their highest angle.  He wanted to be
close to them...Big ocean theory.  He sat after securing the mortars and
buckets.  He went through the motions.  "Fire in the hole." He whispered.
His other hand was already reaching for the tightly packed tin foil ball.
At five hundred feet on the way down these babies exploded, filling the sky
with millions of pieces of tin foil.  He went through the motions for
almost ten minutes.  He laughed as he got to his feet.

   Jill began as soon as he got to his feet.  "Speed the same but he's come
further east, maybe twenty, thirty degrees.  Twenty-five minutes until
intercept.  Power going to combat setting." "Yachtsman" had disappeared
down below.

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

   The captain was intent on monitoring the intercept.  He felt the
intercept officer had too much angle.  They'd have to complete from the
side.  He wasn't about to say anything though.  None of them had done this
very often.  It was tricky with such a slow boat.

   "Course still two five five.  Speed now four knots." The intercept
officer's head jerked up.  He shouted a new heading to the helm which
brought the boat further east.

   "Fifteen minutes until contact." The sea was much rougher out here.  The
Canadian cutter just plowed though this shit at sixteen knots.  Their
target must be getting the shit beat out of it.

   Agents Weathers and Davies were tense.  They kept staring out into the
pitch, black night.  They knew they wouldn't see anything until they got
real close.  Still they stared out into the darkness.  The whole crew was
looking outside.  There was nothing left to do but count down the minutes.

   Twelve minutes.

   Nine minutes.

   "Course still two five five.  Speed now eight knots."

   The captain, for just a brief second or two, thought maybe the captain
of the small vessel knew they were here and were intentionally changing
their speed to make the intercept more difficult.  But for what ?  The end
would be the same.  They couldn't escape.  Still he felt that all things
were not quite under his control.

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

   "Yachtsman" sat.  He was breathing heavily.  Jill knew he was maxed out.
"I need a breather.  How much time we got, Jill ?" The "Viper" had just
crested a large sea swell and Jill was guiding her down the back side,
almost like surfing.  She guided the boat through the trough for a good
while before heading up the next swell.  "Yachtsman" couldn't have done it
any better.  The ride was surprisingly smooth.

   "Plenty, Mike.  Eight minutes to go.  Outstanding performance,
`Yachtsman'.  We've never rigged for combat this fast.  Breaks the record
by two minutes." He hugged her for a moment.  She kissed him on the lips.
He was still breathing hard.

   "See what all that weed smoking and whoring around does to an old man,
Mike.  You got to watch that shit.  This is the real world, Michael.  Maybe
next year we contract out ?  What do you say ?"

   Mike leaned back and closed his eyes while Jill watched the intercept
progress.  He remained that way until Jill gave his thigh a firm squeeze.
Mike opened his eyes, sat up and kissed her before he moved forward to man
the mortars.  He looked back at her, "Let's kick some ass, honey."

   He knelt down next to the torpedo.  It had damn near killed him lugging
it topside and preparing it to launch.  He pressed the starter.  The single
screw came up to full power almost immediately.  He unplugged the power
source and stood.  Cost him ten grand to build but worth every penny right
about now.

   Eight feet long and three feet wide at the widest.  Deep keel weighed
down with two hundred pounds of sea water.  Catamaran runners on both sides
with a big gas motor.  Three foot high radar reflector on the front end
would make it hard to miss.  "Yachtsman" had run her up over twenty knots
several times.

   "Battery check." "Yachtsman" whispered.

   "Sixty-six percent.  Speed now eight knots and still accelerating.  Time
to intercept six minutes." The bogy was inside two miles.  Geometry was
almost perfect.

   "Put him on the nose, Jill." "Yachtsman" was holding on for dear life as
Jill pulled the inboard engine to idle and gave "Viper" full left rudder.
It felt like "Viper" pivoted on a dime.  From heading two five five to one
five five in less than fifteen seconds.

   When the "Viper" came about hard to the left she was doing a little over
nine knots.  Coming out of the turn she was down to six knots.  "Yachtsman"
could care less about speed now.  He'd cut the pursuer's reaction time in
half.

   "Fire in the hole." "Yachtsman" whispered as he dropped the special M-80
down the first barrel followed immediately with a tin foil ball.  Second
barrel same as the first.  If he got a good rhythm going he could get off
over ten rounds a minute.  Jill was going to give him forty-five seconds.

   "Ten seconds, Mike." He'd gotten seven shots off.  Eight would be enough
he was sure.

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

   "They've turned into us !" The voice was high pitched.  "Heading right
toward us !  Right off the bow...Inside a mile and a half.  Time now to
intercept...Now less than two minutes.  What is this ?" His screen was
filled with noise but you could easily identify their target as the radar
counter measures started ignoring the chaff.

   "Say again.  What's their heading...Speed ?" Silence.  The radar
operator was more concerned with the noise on his scope.

   "Heading...Speed ?" More silence.  The captain was sweating now.  Out
maneuvering a more maneuverable, smaller vessel, at night and with this
visibility.  Well, this ship certainly wasn't going to do it.  Maybe they
should have just followed them until daylight ?  Too late now.

   "Sir...There appears to be two targets now.  One of them is much
faster...Close to twenty knots.  It's heading right for us.  Maybe a
torpedo ?"

   "Say again ?  A torpedo ?!" The bridge erupted into chaos.  Somebody
called for battle stations and all kinds of sirens started wailing.  The
ship started coming to a heading of zero eight zero as the captain took
evasive action.  Later, much later, he attempted to return some order to
the bridge.  By then it was too late.  No one cared about the drug runners.
Torpedoes were on everyone's mind.

   Chapter Eighteen

   "Yachtsman" continued to manipulate the joy stick as he guided the
torpedo toward it's target.  The cutter was turning sharply east right in
front of them.  It had zero turning room.  The captain would be several
miles behind after he turned around and that's if the "Viper" kept going
southeast.

   The torpedo was close to running out of fuel.  The chances of him ever
actually hitting the cutter were very remote but he made sure by turning it
out to sea, the opposite way the cutter was going.

   He was sitting next to Jill, the tiller between them.  They both heard
the wailing of the sirens aboard the cutter but neither of them got a
visual.

   "Come right to heading two five five, Jill."

   They had planned to come to zero power after turning away and then just
coasting away from the encounter, depending on the magic stuff that
supposedly came out of the stealth program.  Yea, right ?!

   But "Yachtsman" correctly deduced that this captain had played all he
wanted to play this morning.  He'd be thinking of some weather related
excuse to hide the fact that he'd met a citizen who didn't think the
government had the right to board his boat just because he sailed in
inclement weather.  This citizen may or may not be a drug smuggler ? 
Whatever, he was better prepared and had planned for this environment.  The
better prepared almost always win.

   "Keep the power at seventy percent.  We'll get the sail up at day break.
I'm racking out." It was just a little after zero three hundred hours. 
Twenty minutes later the cutter disappeared from the "Viper's" scope.

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

   The chopper arrived at day break.  It was still overcast with poor
visibility but it was getting lighter.  Both agents were shook up.  The
harrowing story the captain told about a possible torpedo in the water. 
Well, it would terrify anyone.  This was the first known time that a drug
smuggler had refused to play the coast guard's game and escaped.  It was
decided, at a higher pay grade, that all references to a torpedo would be
removed from the final after-action report.  The final report mentioned
poor weather hindering a new crew on a new ship.

   Agent Weathers and Davies were scheduled to depart Seattle for
Washington D.C.  the following day.  Both of them were depressed and would
be glad to be on dry ground again.  Well, it wasn't very dry in Seattle.  A
cold front was passing through bringing with it low ceilings and poor
visibility with rain showers.  The two of them decided to meet in the bar
after showering in their respective rooms.

   Agent Mindy Weathers was dressed in a tight, dark skirt, wearing a white
blouse.  The blouse hid none of her more prominent features.  Anderson
Davies did a double take when he entered the bar.  He got a good side view
and this woman was definitely stacked.  He'd love to play with those
babies. He felt a jolt to his crotch.  He flexed and felt good.

   Mindy turned just as Anderson approached her.  "Well, our intel was
good. I'm sure it was him.  We were this close." She held her thumb and
index finger an inch apart and took a slug from her glass.  It was all
clear.  Anderson figured it was vodka and water, maybe just rocks.

   "Isn't this a little early, Agent Weathers ?" It was going on eleven
o'clock in the a.m.

   "It's five o'clock someplace, Agent Davies.  You're one behind and I'm
buying."

   He ordered vodka on the rocks.  The bartender returned with two.  She
took her drink and downed it in one swallow.  Then took one of his.  They
drank in silence for a minute or two until Anderson started.

   "So how do we explain this back home ?  I'm sure there will be some ass
kicking going on.  I didn't believe the captain for a minute.  If there was
a torpedo it would have hit us.  They shot inside a mile.  Those dopers
weren't smoking any weed last night.  They were prepared.  They had a plan
of attack.  The captain expected them to give up.  He didn't have a plan,
just expected them to give up.  That didn't happen.  Those dopers kicked
our team's ass last night." Anderson downed his drink and waved for another
for both of them.

   "We can't tell anyone that.  We'd never get any cooperation from anyone.
We'd be totally ostracized.  So get that idea out of your head.  The
captain did the best he could.  Who knows what the thing was ?  Maybe it
was just a radar fuck up.  Let them write it up any way they want.  Our
shit was good.  That's what we tell them back home." She took a good slug
of vodka.

   Several moments of silence passed.  He reached over and gave her thigh a
squeeze.  "You're right, Mindy.  It's just that we were so close." She
grasped his hand before it left her thigh.  He left it there and they both
drank in silence.

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

   Colleen Gilbert had just left the delicious Darleen.  They'd spent a
half hour on the couch before Colleen dragged the young lady to "Snake's"
office upstairs.  There, the two of them spent a very special couple of
hours exploring the delights of each other's body.  Darleen especially
liked to have the golden haired older woman lick and suck her pussy.  She
didn't believe she'd ever been eaten to so many climaxes.  Later she even
admitted that going sixty-nine with the woman made her somewhat insane,
licking her like a dog would lick a bone.  Darleen lay, spent, on the
couch.

   Colleen moved toward the bathroom.  She wanted to wash the vagina smell
off her face and hands.  Instead she got into the shower and washed
herself. It was after four before she entered "Snake's" office again.  The
girl was still lying on the couch.  Colleen didn't think Darleen would have
imagined ending up with her.  She moved behind "Snake's" desk and noticed
the alert immediately.

   She read "Yachtsman's" message and bolted for the door.  "Tora.  Tora.
Tora." An overt attack against an enterprise operation by a law enforcement
agency has been detected and evasive action is underway.  Everyone else was
supposed to go to ground.  All comm was to be terminated.  Back up
communication only in emergencies.

   The downstairs was a mess.  The weather woman was asleep on one of the
couches, curled up like a baby.  Someone had covered her with a blanket but
her butt was bare.  Colleen would like a lot more of that.  She'd have to
ask Carlos.  Rusty was crashed on the floor wrapped in a comforter.  Carlos
was no where to be seen.  But there was "Snake," crashed on the other
couch.

   "Yo !  `Snake' get up." She shook his shoulder several times.  She
finally resorted to holding his nostrils closed.  Three seconds later he
came awake with a start and almost took her arm off.  His eyes were slits
of anger.

   "Tora.  Tora.  Tora.  From `Yachtsman' at one forty-seven.  It's
four-fifteen.  There's nothing on any of your back-up accounts.  Do you
want me to call Casey and have him shut it all down ?"

   The anger left "Snake's" eyes.  He was slowly coming alert.  It was
still dark out.  He looked over at the other couch.  Trina Sanchez was
curled up with her butt bare.  He remembered doing a little drilling there
earlier, warming her up for Carlos.

   Tora...Tora...Tora.  Well at least he didn't have to jump through his
ass to get out of town.  He'd have Rusty fly the chopper to Bryce or maybe
Sedona.  Take Darleen with him.  He'd send Carlos out tonight to take Trina
and Colleen back to town and sniff around a little.  He sat up, half
expecting something like this.  He wondered if "Yachtsman" escaped ?

   "Yea, beautiful, call Casey.  Tell him to shut it all down." He looked
over at Rusty.  Let him sleep.  He'll leave late afternoon.  He got up and
stretched.  Time to inform Carlos.  He was still naked, his dick dangling
between his legs, as he climbed to the upper level.  He called back to
Colleen.

   "Let Rusty sleep.  And come upstairs after you contact Casey.  You know
the code, right ?" He was upstairs before Colleen answered him.  She had a
phone to her ear and was going over in her mind how she was going to route
the call.

   "Good morning, sir.  Your wakeup call.  Investment objectives have
changed.  Our benefactors want their money out.  ASAP.  Will we see you
this morning ?"

   Casey was instantly wide awake and looking at the young woman sleeping
beside him.  She was just a senior in high school.  He got a boner just
looking at her.  He decided right then and there to fuck her several more
times before he left for the hacienda.

   "Tell the partners that I'll see them this afternoon some time.  Two
minutes and our money is out.  See you later, sweetie." He rang off. 
Colleen rushed off to join "Snake" upstairs.

   Continued in

   "More Juice !"
   Book Seven