Bree's Grift

"Okay weirdo, take it down a notch." She said to herself, and maybe to the emerging personality starting to lay claim to space in her brain.

After a few moments, while Bree reclaimed her mind, Zak shifted as he put the beer bottle down beside the bed.

Bree looked up at him with Ariana's eager cum-covered face while she began to get excited. It was a thrill to try and pull off an orgasm before her mark passed out. Taking Zak's semi-hard cock in her hand, she began to stroke him back to fullness while letting him stare at her sperm stained features.

His prick twitched in her hand as he looked at her. Clearly he found her defilement arousing. Luckily, so did she. Leaning in, she began to suck his cock adoringly, and in no time at all his manhood hardened from her worship.

Mesmerized by the feel of his hot, smooth flesh beneath her tongue, she caressed him so joyously that she lost track of time.

For whatever reason, not enough food, a stronger dose than usual, Zak passed out on the bed far sooner than Bree had hoped. She was working him over good, stroking his pole and tickling his nutsack as she bobbed over his tip, when he flopped back on the bed with a deep sigh and she realized he was gone.

"Shit! I really wanted him to fuck me some more. I haven't been power fucked like that in ages."

Scrambling up on top of him, she sat down on his cock and drove herself down onto him using his manhood as her own sex toy. She didn't get to cum but she felt a warm glow of pleasure inside until his cock softened too much to feel good.

"Aw fuck."

Denied her release, she lay beside him and masturbated until she achieved her elusive orgasm, but it was not as satisfying as she desired.

Sweaty and frustrated she began her search of his hotel room.

It was a disappointing haul, but better than nothing. She took two thirds to offset her disappointment and hopped in the shower to clean off his sperm.

Refreshed and in a better mood she dressed in her skimpy swimsuit and grabbed her things. Then with one last kiss to the tip of his cock, Bree traipsed out of the room, scanning for any sign of her presence and finding nothing that would link to her.

It was another glorious evening and Bree found her bicycle locked up where she had left it. Unlocking it and straddling the seat, her inflamed pussy ached as she ground her clit down onto the seat. She was still really horny.

Riding along the roads, she took a circuitous route to the many places she stashed her money.

Bree had four identities and four safety deposit boxes, one in each name. The first name was her mother's. The mail continued coming after Marie Long had died, so that had been simple. Bree had applied for credit cards, renewed her mother's license and fiddled around with lies and deception until she had created a thorough profile for herself with photo ID and everything, using her mother's name.

Terry Marshall, her step-father had more bills than anything, but a few careful, and patient applications and within five years Bree had another identity as a female Terry Marshall, who had no debts and a photo ID as well.

The forth was a younger sister that didn't exist. That identity had cost money and taken longer to create, but in the end there was a 21 year old girl that looked an awful lot like Bree just waiting to use her new passport and driver's license.

In each safety deposit box she put one fifth of her earnings, and she kept another fifth for her spending money. Bree didn't live large, but her saving were huge. Years of weekly scores had netted her enough money to dream big, but the con was more fun than any of the dreams, so she still played the game.

Finally home, Bree smoked some pot, showered, and dressed for an evening at a friend's place. Life on Maui was relaxed and fun. Bree was having the time of her life.

Chapter Two

Waking up the next morning around eleven, Bree stretched as she lay naked in her soft sheets. Last night she had been restless at Marcie's place. There were no men that excited her there and she was feeling frustrated from last night's balked orgasm.

Also there was that Thing the guy had done with his tongue.

"What was that?" Growling she tried masturbating but it was insufficient. The fun she's had rediscovery rough sex as Ariana had gotten her excited. Bree wanted a wild night of dirty, grindy sex with a strong partner who had stamina.

That called for the right outfit.

As she rode to the beach on her bike, cars periodically slammed on brakes as distracted drivers nearly had accidents around her. Men called from windows, sidewalks and patio bars. She smiled and ignored them, pleased with the reactions.

As she picked the spot she was going to do yoga, she hid her smirk as she unrolled her yoga mat and kicked off her sandals.

Her bottoms were nude coloured pantie style bottoms that hugged her skin in a perfect mold, showing every detail of her sex, including the twists of meagre pubic hair. On her bike she had appeared to riding bottomless the bikini was so small and so perfectly the colour of her skin.

The top was a shredded, backless t-shirt design that clung over the nipples in tight triangle patches, and thin, clear plastic straps over the neck and around the torso. The straps were meant to not be seen except from up close. The "t-shirt" was also flesh coloured and shredded to expose everything beneath, except the breasts. Those were meant to play peek-a-boo, with the flesh coloured lycra patches over the nipples.

An observer could not help but assume she was bottomless with a vest of a t-shirt over her bare breasts. Even long observation from too far away would not convince a by-stander that she wasn't basically topless. The fact that her groin was one uniform colour gave away the bikini bottoms, but once again only after prolonged investigation.

Thus Bree was the object of much of attention as she began to stretch through her yoga routine. Today she was more overtly flirty. She wanted attention and didn't care if anyone knew it. The type of guy she hoped to grift would be a bit of a dirt bag, to increase her odds of having some raunchy sex.

Actually, the sex was more on her mind than the grift today.

By the time she had displayed herself lewdly to the whole beach, her skin dripping with sweat, her muscles loose and her pussy eager to get pounded, Bree was focused in on two potential marks. One was ridiculously good looking and young. He made her pussy throb. The other was old and looked really rich. He had classy gold rings and a very nice looking watch. He made her greedy heart thump.

As she settled into her final series of moves, the ones she usually used to settle into actual meditation, she allowed her mind to relax and stop struggling to choose which of the men she would go sit next to.

Instead she focused on her body, releasing any tension she felt anywhere in her toned body. Muscle by muscle she eased her body into total relaxation until she felt light and free. Then returning to her surroundings she found that the older guy was gone.

That was a surprise. He had been drooling over her since she walked up. Bree had been utterly confident in bagging him. The gorgeous hippy kid had only made her want to fuck.

Pleased that the choice had been made for her, Bree rolled up her yoga mat and wobbled over the sand to sit near the gorgeous hippy.

He had a loose topknot of sun-kissed brown hair tied on top of his head, a beard perfectly trimmed to look like he never spent time on it, and tanned skin, covering sculpted muscles. He wore a pair of loose Thai boatman pants, had a pair of Birkenstocks on, and wore Oakley sunglasses.

He was a middle-class hipster on vacation, not a back-packer. This boded well.

"Namaste." He said and nodded to her as she sat.

In an instant Bree knew her which identity to adopt. Jennifer Marshall-Long, Bree's imaginary sister is a raver, surfer, and hippy who longs to see the world, but can't get off the islands, travel being too expensive. She smokes pot and believes in free love, is an environmentalist, feminist, and essentially a nymphomaniac.

In other words she is young, confused and horny.

"Namaste." She replied in the traditional acknowledgment of one soul seeing another. It was a great opening from him. It implied a lot, like a secret code, except more and more people were initiated.

"That was a great looking practice you just did." He had piercing blue eyes, peering over his sunglasses, and gorgeous lips peeking out from under his mustache.

"Oh, thanks. I was a little distracted for a lot of it." she looked up and down his toned body. He sat loose limbed and relaxed, also a yoga practitioner, but he also worked out in a gym or something. His muscles were sculpted, and of a size indicating more than surfing or yoga.

He watched her glance at his body and smiled with his eyes, soaking up the appreciating of his efforts. Then he pointedly looked her up and down as well, the ogle blatant and provocative. He was going to be fun.

"Have you got any pot?" she asked.

"I just got Maui. I was hoping you might have some."

"Oh I do, I just wanted to smoke yours. You in a room here?"

"Let's go." He rose to his feet gracefully and offered a hand to Bree. Instead Bree used her impressive core muscles and stood without any help, bringing all her belongings with her. Then to take the sting off the snub she laced her fingers through his intimately, and smiled serenely up into his face.

Standing he was close to six feet or so, and towered over her. "I'm Jen." She told him.

"Caleb." He replied, gazing at her as much as walking to his room allowed.

Bree could tell he was fine with the speed of this intimacy. Caleb was good looking enough to have had women throw themselves at him often. Bree liked that he was comfortable with it. She felt more than worthy off his attention. Men were often intimidated by her, unless she played innocent and inexperienced as Ariana.

Caleb's room was surprisingly nice, and on the top floor. It was maybe even a penthouse, Bree saw there were rooms beyond doors and a hallway leading along one wall. There were couches and chairs and room for a dozen people to sit. The patio was huge and the curtains open, with the sea breeze blowing into the warm bright room.

"Whoa..." Jen gaped. "Are you rich or something?" Bree had been in nicer rooms, but not many.

"I know a guy."

"I just bet you do." She grinned at him. Bree got out the joint and they went onto the patio and looked down at the beach and the people on the verge below.

Passing the joint back and forth they didn't speak much, just gazing at each other comfortably. Bree was really turned on by this guy, but then she'd been super horny since that damn tongue Thing.

Caleb was utterly calm and present, looking right at Jen. Loving it, Bree gazed right back, utterly confident in her desirability.

When the joint was close to done Caleb took a huge draw and flicked the roach off the balcony into the trees down below, then he wrapped his left hand around the back of her neck, gently, and drew her in. Kissing her, he exhaled the smoke into her mouth where she drew it in deeply, tasting him in the mix of burning leaf.

They kissed deeply, tongues slipping around each other seductively. She released the smoke through her nose and he began to kiss down her neck, giving her little licks of his tongue every millimetre of her skin. Bree trailed her fingers along the skin of his shoulders as he kissed and licked lower and lower, and then over the sleight swell of her left breast.

With both hands Caleb ran his palms up her belly and under her top, lifting it off as he passed his hands up over her breasts. Momentarily cupping them both warmly, he then carried on until her top was off. As her face reappeared from inside the top, his mouth found hers and kissed once more as she pressed her bosom to his firm, hairy chest.

Now, as they kissed, his hands kneaded the flesh of her buttocks. Sighing into his mouth, Bree swiveled her hips, rocking her torso side to side and rubbing her breasts on the soft fur of his body. Then Bree hummed appreciatively as she felt the bump of his erection between her legs. Trapped in his loose pants his cock lifted unimpeded, but could not reach her opening.

Feeling pity for him, Bree knelt and untied the belt's holding his pants closed, then let the baggy leggings fall to the ground. His cock was as beautiful as he was. Seven or more inches, it had a fringe of short hairs at the base, and the long shaft was smooth and hardly veined at all. His knob was big, pink and looked delicious.

Wanting to be sure, Bree dipped her head down and took the first third of his manhood deep into her mouth and slurped backward as she pulled off, getting a mouthful of his flavour. Smiling up at his calm face, she wiggled her eyebrows appreciatively. It was delicious.

Then she proceeded to work him over with all the skill in her possession. Bree wanted this man's cum, and quickly. She intended to fuck him over and over tonight and wanted to start off with a mouthful of his jism.

Stroking his shaft with her left hand, she massaged his balls with the other while her mouth massaged, licked, suckled and kissed the first third of him. Relishing the feel of his cock in her mouth, Bree ran her mouth all over his member tasting every inch of him.

Relaxed and assured, Caleb accepted her efforts and gazed down at her with rapt attention as he leaned on the railing, his back to the ocean. His mouth puckered and his breathing hissed through lips as she began to bath his balls with her avid tongue.

Stroking his tip gently with her hand, using the ample spit there as lubricant, Bree worked his cock from the top to the bottom, on her knees in his penthouse. Her pussy was dripping wet inside her bottoms as she blew him expertly.

Taking his knob back in her mouth, Bree gobbled him greedily, fucking him with her mouth wantonly. Soon Caleb lifted his hands and placed fingertips gently on her skull, guiding her to continue working his knob.

Quickening breathes and a firmer grip indicated he was going to cum soon. Holding pace, she ran her lips over his shaft and swirled her tongue around his tip as he trembled on the brink of explosion.

Then a gush of sperm flooded her mouth and Caleb grunted deep in his throat. Humping his hips and holding her head rigidly, Caleb filled her face with his load and Bree swallowed everything hungrily, in bliss as his taste filled her mouth.

When he had spent himself, his large load oozing down her throat, Caleb quivered arrhythmically as Bree cleaned his sperm soaked tip with her equally sperm stained tongue. Swirling her appendage all around his sensitive tip, Bree enjoyed the power she felt from having him so helpless in her grip.

Then she felt that power drain utterly away.

"You all done there, son?" A deep, raspy, voice spoke from the room behind her.

Bree attempted to turn and look, but Caleb held her head, his cock still deep in her mouth. Caleb stroked in and out of her mouth a few times, and confused, Bree suckled him, not sure what was happening. Then Caleb pulled out and gripped his cock a moment, squeezing a few drops of cum out into Bree's gaping mouth.

"I am now."

Now, Bree did turn, and saw three other men in the room behind the swirling curtain. One man was sitting and two other flanked his chair, like guards. "Alright, put your pants on and you may go. Good work."

The man in the chair spoke, and his voice was mesmerizing. It was a whiskey and cigarette soaked sound, and he drawled with a Texan type accent she had heard in many cowboy movies.

Caleb dressed, and Bree belatedly reached for her top, ready to leave as well.

"Not you missy. You come here and sit down. Leave the top right where it is." The certain authority and the fact that she was an exhibitionist made her miss the threat in that statement.

As Caleb walked into and through the room, Bree followed to the nearest chair and sat facing the men inside while Caleb vanished down the hallway.

The two guard types were huge native islanders who looked very, very tough. They wore matching Hawaiian shirts and tan slacks. There were guns in shoulder holsters on both of men and belatedly Bree felt fear, and a desire to be dressed.

The seated man was a study in contradictions.

He had long, pewter colored hair hanging loose around his narrow head. He had dark eyebrows and a long hawk nose splitting his weathered face. A big mustache covered his upper lip and spread down over his cheeks to almost reach his jawline. It was massive, and also pewter.

His chin was long, square and looked strong. Everything about him looked strong. His shoulders were not huge, but broad; his arms inside his Hawaiian shirt looked fit and muscled. His legs thin and long ending in loafers that were too casual, they should have been cowboy boots.

Most noteworthy were his eyes, though. They were a very pale grey, and looked almost white except for the black boarder around them. His tiny pupils pierced right into the core of her. Pinning her, half naked to her chair.

"Well, well, well." There was a warm indulgence to his tone that she didn't for an instant believe was anything close to friendly. This man was as dangerous as any person she had ever met. Whoever he was.

"Nice to meet you Yoga Girl. I've been hearing a lot about you lately." His eyes raked over her bare chest and legs. "I think you might even be purdier than the talk after all. I didn't think that was likely. "

"Did he actually say purdier?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Reading him as best she could, Bree gambled and spoke. "You have me at a disadvantage sir." She said conversationally, like the gutsy southern women from movies she'd seen.

It clearly amused him. His eyes crinkled at her and he grinned through his huge mustache.

"I do, don't I? Allow me to remedy that. I am Jake Elliot. This is my hotel. My beach. Hell this is gonna be my island soon enough. Mo? Get me a drink, please. Lemonade." The big man on Jake's left peeled off to the bar and made a drink while Jake continued.

"So. Since I am now the only game in town, that means I can't have freelance crooks like you poaching on my turf. Even if you are as purdy as an angel. It makes the tourists uncomfortable, and I don't want that. I want them here, gambling and fucking, safe from predators... that don't work for me."

"Is this a job offer?"

Mo came back and handed Jake the drink. Sipping, the charismatic man in the chair eyed her over the rim, holding her gaze, giving her nothing but amusement in his eye. "Delicious." He could have been speaking of either the drink or her.

"Little lady, do you do drugs?"

Assuming he'd been checking on her, might even smell the pot in the air now, she didn't lie.

"I smoke pot, take mushrooms, and acid sometimes. MDMA... No needles, nothing snorted, nothing every day."

"You really are Yoga Girl huh? Stand up." He sipped his drink some more as Bree gathered her courage and stood up allowing the men in the room to take in her whole body.

"Drop the shorts."

Anxiety bloomed in her stomach then. Yet, in her pussy, lust made her grow wet and open once more. Off balance by her reaction, she felt her pussy grow wet and relaxed at the firm authority in his voice. This was a Man. She felt his masculinity across the room. Also, he loved to be nude, and having six eyes on her felt delicious.

But... this was some kind of crime lord and he was clearly dangerous. Mostly because of the implied threat of the other two men. Why was he ordering her to be naked if he was going to take her business from her?