Chapter 19
Tony Peralta lay naked on a sofa in the middle of his sunken living room. He was back in his house on Boar's Head, on his elbows with his ass stuck up in the air. Rhonda–a twenty-something hard-bodied blonde in a red thong bathing suit–leaned over him, tweezers in hand.
"Toneeey," she said shrilly. "Keep still or I can't get them all out." She had a sewing needle in one hand and the tweezers in the other. A small bowl on the table beside her already held a half-dozen tiny pellets she'd removed from Tony's fleshy rump. Occasionally she stopped to dip the needle or tweezers into a bottle of rubbing alcohol. She'd then touch the wet end of the instrument to a small pile of cocaine that was also on the table. When she raised the needle or tweezers there’d be a bit of the glistening white powder stuck on the end.
"I never thought I'd live to see you like this, Boss," Wayne said. The big dolt was sitting in an easy chair across the room, long legs hanging over one of the chair's arms, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. His gaze shifted back and forth from Tony's ass to Rhonda's ass. When he looked at Rhonda, his expression became serious, lustful. When he looked back at Tony's injured hiney, a big smile spread across his face. "Real embarrassing, ain't it." He chuckled, then swallowed hard when Tony glared at him.
"There's nothing funny about this," Tony said. "I could've been killed. If you'd done your job right when we were in his cottage, I wouldn't be lying here now getting humiliated like I am."
Wayne dropped his legs and sat up straight, an indignant look on his face. "The man had a shotgun."
"Excuses. Fucking excuses. Every time I'm with you something screwy happens. You got me shot at on the beach, almost got me mixed up in a murder, and finally managed to actually get me shot. What'll you do next to help me? Throw me off a cliff?" Tony grit his teeth and grabbed the fabric of the sofa with both hands as Rhonda probed for another pellet. "Motherfucker. How many more?"
"You big baby," she said in a singsong voice. "I'm almost done."
"Not even Schwarzenegger'd go up against a shotgun," Wayne said, folding his big arms across his puffed-out chest. "Everybody knows that."
How the hell had he ended up in a situation like this–with a ditsy broad yanking birdshot out of his tender ass and an overgrown juvenile delinquent sitting over there arguing with him?
"Apparently I don't know anything anymore," Tony said. Then he added sarcastically, "Maybe my brains are on the fritz or something. That's the only thing that could explain what I'm doing in a fix like this. Yeah, that's probably it. Maybe I got some exotic brain fever. Burned them all up. Baby, feel my forehead."
"Don't worry, hon. Your brains'll grow back," Rhonda said. She dipped the needle in the pile of coke, and as she pulled the needle out, she held it high, studying the white powder with a gleam in her eyes.
Shit, she was as serious as Wayne. Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, maybe. But that fucking Dan Marlowe won't be so lucky. Nobody does this to me and gets away with it. When I get my hands on him I'll shove that shotgun of his up his ass and pull the trigger."
Wayne let out a wicked chuckle. "That'd sure take care of him."
"You bet your ass it will," Tony said. He pictured Marlowe standing in the sand shooting at them as they drove away, Tony leaning hard on his side trying not to bleed on the Jag's upholstery. "And if he got one goddamn scratch on my Jag from that shotgun, I'll pull the trigger twice. Bastard."
"He ain't got no respect," Wayne said.
"Give me some of that blow, Ronnie," Tony said. "No sense wasting it all on my handsome butt." Rhonda dipped a small silver spoon into the coke and reached around to hold it under Tony's right nostril. He supported himself on one elbow and brought his left index finger up to block his left nostril. With a loud snort, he inhaled the blow up his pipe. Rhonda got another spoonful and they repeated the process for the other nostril.
And suddenly Tony's ass didn't bother him so much anymore. He was getting such a good sensation in his cock that it overshadowed the pain on his opposite side. "Yeah, I'll get him real fucking good," he said, sounding–and feeling–oh, so confident.
"Sure ya will," Wayne said. He nodded his big head, never taking his gaze off Rhonda's scrumptious body. "We'll both get him."
"There. I'm done, honey," Rhonda said, plastering the last of two large bandages on Tony's buttocks. "You should feel fine now."
Oh, he felt fine, that was for sure. But it didn't have anything to do with Rhonda's nursing. Gingerly, Tony turned on his side on the large sofa, propping himself up with his left elbow. "Two more, Ron," he said. And Rhonda's tan arm with the gold bracelets brought the coke-filled spoon up to his nose twice more. And man, did his cock start to vibrate.
Tony looked over at Wayne, winked and said, "We'll see you later, Wayne. I'll be calling you, so don't go far from your phone."
"Yeah. Sure, Boss. See ya later." After a short hesitation, Wayne got up, crossed the room, and walked out the door.
Tony studied Rhonda as she sat on the edge of the couch beside him, her bare leg touching his. Beautiful, tanned face, made up so hotly, surrounded by that gorgeous blonde hair. Gold chains around her neck. Skimpy red thong bikini. Wheew! Rhonda and the coke were making his cock ache, and wicked thoughts were running amuck in his mind. "Oh, baby, do I fucking want you."
"But Tony, your buns hurt," she said in a sympathetic voice.
"Not that bad they don't." Tony rolled over on his back, shoving a fat end pillow under his ass as he moved. "You do all the work, baby. Blow my mind."
"All right," Rhonda said. She stood, stepped backwards halfway across the room, and shook her mane of blonde hair. Tony watched as she unfastened the top of her bathing suit and let it fall. Two gorgeous tan breasts spilled out. Then she unsnapped her tiny thong and tossed it aside. Tony could see that she'd been sunbathing nude again, and that all she was wearing now were gold chains around her neck, wrists, and ankle. Tony's cock really started to hum as Rhonda leaned over and inhaled a spoon of coke up each of her cute little nostrils. Her nipples instantly turned hard as rocks and she let out a small moan. She looked at Tony through half-closed eyes. "Baby, I am going to blow your mind. Right now."
She walked slowly over to Tony. He tapped his fingers impatiently, anticipation building until he thought he would pop. He knew what was coming; he'd made it with her this way many times before. With one hand he pulled the small table with the coke on it closer to him, and with the other he reached up, grabbed Rhonda's arm and pulled her towards him. She fell right on top of him, all hot smells, tanned skin, gold chains, and hard body. And for the next couple of hours she did blow Tony's mind.
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