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I called the shots. I took the risks. I ate crow sometimes, but more often I reaped the rewards and danced at my rivals' liquidation sales. To lustful spirits, I was a treasure greater than my dragon's horde of capitalism. I did not know my spiritual value on the second day, but I had already decided my response.Instead of disbelieving the incredible, the fantastic, the dreams that left my body aching, I acted as I would have in business. I covered my ass from all potential threats. I did not believe in the supernatural. I would not have cared if ghosts or demons haunted me, or a clever rapist had found a way to drug me. Every violation required an appropriate response. Personally, I preferred to act beyond appropriate.I did not know the tools or trade of the demonologist, but I knew the way of the spy. I had to find the secret entrance that would reveal the path to my tormentor's weakness.On the third night, I said, "Kiss me."The eager man body, attached to aroused horseflesh,. Removing her tight black jeans and black panties, my mouth covered her already fragrant pussy. Minutes later she writhed in ecstasy.Hastily removing my shirt and pants and jockeys while she finished getting naked, I climbed between her upraised thighs and plunged deep."Oh Joe. So good," she moaned."Yes," I sighed in agreement.The plane rose and fell. "Mindy!" I exclaimed."I'll be careful," Mindy insisted, sending the plane up and down again."Okay," I sighed, pleasure overriding concern.Eyes met and stayed staring except when Melinda looked beyond me. She giggled throatily. I glanced back and saw Randy fisting his fat cock, staring at my pale thrusting ass. I chuckled and smiled into her eyes. She smiled back happily. It changed to a grimace of pleasure as her orgasm approached. My thrusts quickened and hardened. My hands grasped her firm butt cheeks, fingers into the musculature. Angling forward, I gave her rubs along the apex of her vagina and friction for her clit. Her eyes closed.
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It was a nice, safe, repeating business, with customers who had plenty of money. The Norte Americano supplied guns, and JJ was a good customer. The Asian would supply heroin. It would be small quantities at first, but that would grow in time. And there was always a supply of girls from the U.S.Yes, it was a good business, and he wouldn't have to haggle with those bastards in Houston or Phoenix for the distribution rights in his own territories.JJ flipped open his laptop and accessed his offshore accounts in the Caymans, entered his passwords, answered the secret questions. The figure was approaching two hundred fifty million USD. That would buy a lot of tacos. He laughed and signed off.His emails to the men he had sent to San Diego were shorter, just inquiries, really. The answers were even briefer: two of the snatches were on schedule for San Diego, one location had to move, and a contingent from San Diego was going to Phoenix to handle that pickup. It would be even easier there.A.

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