The Burnsfield Project

Chapter 5

I sit straight up from a dead sleep, like they do in the movies when there victim is stuck in a horrible flashback dream. 

"Fucking shit!  God dammit!  This fucking cell phone!"  Apparently when you plug your cell phone in so that it can charge and act as an alarm for you, the other end of the wire needs to be plugged into the motherfucking wall.

The sunlight was shining in through the window, the yellowish fungus growing on the window pane made the sunlight almost green as it struck my swollen face and the disgusting floor Holly and I shared last night.  Oh shit, Holly! 

I look to my right and then to my left, where the fuck was this chick?  I don't have anything to worth any money, she couldn't have taken off.  Could she? 

Flush.  The bathroom door opens and out walks Holly, still fully nude underneath that coat I had so chivalrously provided for her last night.  "Damn, you scared me, I…I thought you bailed on me." 

She smirked and said, "Gregg, after the night we both had, after the way you treated me, why would I bail on you?"

"Excellent question, guess I thought it was too good to be true." I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.  "How you feelin' today?"

She slowly and seductively opened the coat from last night and exposed every inch of her milky white skin to me, "How do you think?"  The coat floats to the floor and Holly makes her way to me.  Not one wrinkle, scar, pimple, freckle anywhere on her body.

"Listen Holly…God damn you're fucking gorgeous!  But I was supposed to be at this address by 8 and it's already 8:30.  I gotta get ready and get out of here before I get fired before I even get a chance to start."  I tried to plead with her to stop advancing in my direction so I could focus on teeth brushing and clothing but all I could see was the perfection I call Holly.

She turned towards the bedroom abruptly and said, "Well Gregory, you're already late and in my book late is late, whether it's an hour or three hours."

"Well god damnit, you make a compelling argument!" A perfect proclamation as I head towards the bedroom, staring at her ass as it bounces up and down and up and down with every smooth stroke she makes while walking on her tip-toes as if she were wearing some tall, skinny heels.

As we enter the room, there is just enough light to see where to go but not enough light to make the situation uncomfortable for anyone, me especially.  Immediately, Holly jumps right on the bed on all fours, facing away from me.  Her legs are spread apart just enough for me to see her pussy with the limited light we had. 

"Come on, Gregory, come over here, get a good look, a good taste before you pound the cum out of me." Holly had a very sensual voice, a voice like Marilyn Monroe back when she was bangin' JFK.

I approached very slowly from behind as Holly peered back at me with half of her long black hair covering her face.  Her smile was still very eloquent and arousing.  I put both had right at the point where the back meets the ass, this is the best grasping point if any significant fucking is going to occur.

Just as I pull my dick from my unzipped pants, a loud pounding being taken out on my door, a knocking of some sort.  I was in the zone, there was no way I was going to be disturbed by some brainless, scripted solicitor and miss out on Holly's candies. 

As I slide my extremely hard dick into Holly's dripping pussy I try not to cum instantly.  The moan she let out seemed very theatrical, that of a porn star's but when I say dripping wet, I mean DRIPPING WET!  That's as far as we got.  Out of the blue, my door is viciously kicked wide open and I hear authoritative shouting, "Gregg Burnsfield, this is the K.U.N.T. division!  We know you're in here; we had a tail on you all night!  Get the fuck out here where I can see you. 

"Mother fuckers!"  Pulling my dick out of this situation was as gut wrenching as it sounds.  "Did they say Cunt??  No way, this has to be a joke or a large group of unneeded male strippers."

I step out of the doorway with my dick still hanging out of my unzipped pants looking like an Atari joystick.  What I saw next actually startled me.  Four men dressed all out in full tactical gear with assault rifles.  Did this have to do with the crack head I busted up last night?  These fuckers meant business and I still had my now flaccid dick slumping out of my fly.

"Burnsfield, what time were you told to be at 713 Brunswick Drive?  Who were you supposed to ask for upon your arrival?  What's your fucking problem?  Do I really need to continue this questions and lack of answer session with you?  Put your little fucking dick up, get dressed and get down stairs, NOW!  You have three minutes or Mills here is going to shoot you, seriously shoot you!"  This gentleman was clearly a drill sergeant in his previous life.  Mills however, didn't speak a word but his roided out upper body was clear enough for me. 

It took me at least a good minute to grasp the idea of what was going on here.  Mills kindly reminded me, "Two minutes dick weed!"  Now I'm scrambling.  I rush into the bedroom where Holly is lying on the bed lusciously nude, legs crossed and breasts bulging.  There goes another minute starring at her. 

"One minute fucker!" Mills really seems like a sweet, caring gentleman…from hell.

I get some fresh non-pussy smelling khaki pants on, grab a solid blue button up from the closet and get a pair black dress shoes from under the bed.  As I'm buttoning my shirt, in walks the incredible hulk sized Mills.  He raises his weapon and without hesitation, without even a chance for me to plead, he fires one shot into my stomach about 2 inches above my belly button. 

Holly screams out, Mills fires a warning shot directly above her head as I collapse to the ground, clutching the area the bullet must have went through. 

Mills spoke to me, a lot calmer than before, "Now, catch your breath, get on your feet and come with me."

I am gasping for air, struggling to breathe, waiting for the pool of blood to appear on my undershirt.  "You shot me?  You shot me!  I'm dying and you think I'm going to still get up and come with you guys?" I was in utter disbelief.

Mills is laughing but I could tell he was trying to maintain control, "It was a beanbag you fuck tard.  Hey, naked chick!  Pick up that little red bag beside your arm." 

Holly rolls to her right, exposing her round, and smooth ass and picks up the beanbag that had been fired over her head into my drywall.  "No shit, that's awesome!" She exclaims.

"See?  Get the fuck up!" Mills yells as he is walking towards me.  His biceps look like that could break an elephant's neck with just the slightest of flexing.

I gingerly raise myself from the hardwood floor of my crap filled apartment.  "Mills if I wasn't so much smaller than you and exhausted, then I would kick the shit out of you.  But since you're a nice guy, I'm gonna go ahead and willingly go with you.  You're lucky you didn't piss me off."  I tried my best to sound like a badass even though I knew each and every one of those guys had dicks the size of a horse cock.

I finish dressing this time, as the welt on my abdomen grew exponentially.  Holly had covered herself with a blanket and just watched.  Mills exited the room, he had to duck to clear the doorway, and I walked over to Holly and kissed her very passionately good bye.  "The spare key is under the mat, honey.  If you have to leave, feel free to let yourself back in."  I winked to her as I walked out of the room.

I slowly make my way down the stairs with my escort Mills right on my tail.  The other three guys had set up a perimeter as if I were the president or something and they a tip that an assassination attempt was going to be executed on my life today.  They proceeded to surround me and we all rushed to the typical undercover blacked out Chevy Suburban waiting curbside for us. 

Once inside, the two escorts sitting on both sides of me buckled me in and slipped a black pillow case over my head and zip tied it to my neck.  Talk about scary and extremely uncomfortable. 

"Really guys?  Is this necessary?  Where are we going, Batman's underground lair?"  I was waiting for one of them to answer me or at least smack the shit out of me.  "Give me something here, what's going on?  Are you guys going to kill me or gang rape me?"

Dead silence, the only noise in the Suburban was the air conditioning and the tires rolling on the road.  I will say, I grew very anxious now because of how serious they were about me being late.  I assumed in my mind that I was being escorted to the address I was supposed to report to at eight o'clock this morning.  I didn't day speak a word the entire time.

We roll up and stop abruptly.  The hood is still on my face, it's actually sticking a little because of my excessive perspiration.  The passenger side door opens, sounded like the back door.  In fact, it was.  My muscle bound, silent guards yank me from my seat and to the asphalt below.  I scrambled to get my feet under me as I was sitting for over an hour and had the black hood on too.  It threw off my equilibrium significantly.

"Can we take the hood off now?  Let's take this off now." I was using my soft voice because I didn't want to get punched in the gut or anything. 

The sun has gone away; I don't feel its pulsing heat on my arms anymore.  No breeze is present either.  We must be indoors or in some sort of covered area.  There's an aroma in the air, some sort of shit, horse, pig, I don't know, I'm not a shit expert. 

Where ever we are, it's quiet, too quiet for my comfort.  My anxiety is rearing its ugly head again.  The black cloth hood is making me claustrophobic and the silence combined with the smell of shit is making me very nervous, very antsy.  My breathing rate increases, my heart rate increases, and my chest begins to collapse on itself.  What the fuck, take the hood off!  We step into an even quieter place but the smell of shit goes away instantly.