The Broken Drum part4
by Hot Milfs Blogdon’t spoil the view.
The girl was covered with a light sheen of sweat,
(perspiration, you asshole… Ladies don’t sweat), as he watched
her do exaggerated pelvic thrusts, supported by her feet and
shoulders, in a position that reminded him of a wrestler’s
bridge.
“Oh baby….could you and I do great things together, was
the last thought that flashed through his mind before Bodo’s
Lincoln pulled to the curb outside his apartment….
Bodo had him back to his apartment in less than an hour.
Just a few minutes of light work had netted him $150. He’d
walked right up to the man’s front door carrying a can of Blatz,
and confronted the deadbeat while his family watched tv in the
living room.
“OK, asshole. We can do this easy…. or we can do it hard.
Your choice.” His voice always surprised people, they thought it
sounded funny, kind of a raspy whiskey tenor that seemed out of
place emanating from his massive body.
“Who are you? What do you want?” that night’s victim
stammered.
“Guido sent me…., he said you’d understand.”
“Ahhh… I’m two days late…., and he sends a collector?”
“All I know is I’m supposed to bring back $300, and that’s
all I’m gonna do. Either that or a piece of your ass. Your
choice. I see Dead President’s in one minute, or I start taking
you apart…. Right here where mom and the two kids can have a
front row seat to watch the mud and blood and the beer.” He
emphasized his statement by dumping the dregs of the Blatz on the
man’s burnished cordovan wingtips.
“Jesus, I don’t have $300 in cash on me…”
“Like I said. Your choice….and you’re down to thirty
seconds.” Leon rose to the balls of his feet, and began pulling
on thin black leather gloves.
“Hold it…, come on…, hold it…. I’ve got maybe $150.”
“I’ll take it,” Leon rasped. “You still get a beating and
you’ll still owe this week’s $300. We’ll consider the $150
interest. And next week’s $300 and this week’s $300 are both due
on Monday. Or I’ll be back.”
“Jeez…I’ve got the money in the bank. I just don’t have
it here….”
“So….?”
“So follow me over to the bank machine…. I’ll get you the
whole $300,” came the whining reply.
“No fucking around?”
“Just let me get my wallet,” the man begged.
“You’re not gettin’ outa my sight. Just holler at your
wife, and have her bring it to you.”
The guy was practically groveling, begging Leon not to get
his family involved….., but, he did as he was told. The lady
of the house, (not a bad looking piece of beef either) looked at
Leon questioningly until the guy went into a song and dance about
a water leak at his office, and how he had to go look and would
be right back.
Leon rode with the welcher while Bodo trailed them in the
Lincoln. The trip and the rest of the transaction were
uneventful, almost anti-climatic. He got the $300 and made a
strong suggestion to the man that he keep his account current.
As Bodo drove him home, Leon peeled off $150 and stuffed it
into his pocket, handing Bodo the other half.
“Wanna drink?” Bodo asked.
“Nahh…I’m too wound up right now. I really was looking
forward to pounding some lumps on that whuss…”, Leon remarked
as he started to crawl out of Bodo’s car.
“Maybe next time,” Bodo laughed, as he began to drive off.
Leon watched the Lincoln turn the corner and was about to
start up the walk to his building when movement in the window
across the street caught his eye. It was ‘her’ apartment.
Leon crossed the street, and drifted closer to the building,
changing his angle to the window, until he had a clear view into
her bedroom. He’d caught part of this kind of action an earlier
night, but from across the street (even with binoculars) he could
not see too well.
This was a different story. He had a clear, close-up view
of ‘her’ as she lay naked on her bed. He watched her hands
glide over her torso and cupped her breasts. Her fingers busily
teasing her coral pink nipples, and he watched carefully as they
became firm and erect before his eyes.
She shifted slightly and reached to a bedside table, and
then while one hand continued to torment her tits, the other used
a bumpy pink dildo to get herself off, over and over again.
Leon watched the drama unfold, captured by its sheer
eroticism, and didn’t notice the black and white cruiser as it
turned onto his street, and accelerated toward where he was
standing, close to her window.
“Freeze, motherfucker,” a voice barked, jerking Leon back to
reality.
The two cops had spread-eagled him across the hood of the
cruiser, patted him down, and cuffed him. Leon had been through
the drill a time or two, so he cooperated…., as much as they’d
let him. The $150 jammed into his pocket had raised their
eyebrows, as had the $200 and change in his wallet.
They’d called in on the radio, using his driver’s license as
an ID, and glared at him, while they waited for an NCIC report.
Then it finally was radioed back, it was lights and sirens all
the way to the Cop Shop.
He stayed cuffed during the booking, and while he was
finger-printed, one of the bulls had his opposite arm in a
hammerlock. He guessed they didn’t get many yellow sheets like
his….
When the detective finally got around to interviewing him,
he was asked, “What were you doing when the officers apprehended
you?”
“I just got home and was starting into my apartment, when I
saw something in that window. It looked like a fight or
something, so I walked across the street to be sure. I was just
checking it out when your guys jumped all over me.”
“They said you were acting like a peeper.”
“Like hell…when did you ever see a peeper standing on the
sidewalk… without a raincoat…under a streetlight?”
“You’ve got a point there, Ace.”
“Damn straight.” Leon wasn’t worried and it started to show
…End of the part4. To be continued..