HITMAN ENCOUNTER

 

 

We are riding our bikes at a moderate pace down a less than often traveled road. For the most part, this trip has been uneventful. We have taken out the guy that our employer wanted silenced. We are only about halfway through the circuitous route that we had agreed upon. This particular route would break the last possible connection between us and our target.

 

We continue for several hours, with a pit stop at some small wide place in the road.

About an hour after the stop, we round a curve on a dusty side road at a slow pace and, just beyond the curve, we both spot a couple of guys in their late twenties walking on the side of the road. One of them, the slightly taller of the two, is wearing a biker-style leather jacket. The shorter one also is wearing a leather jacket, but his more traditional with a snap collar, and one front pocket. They are both about the same height and weight.

 

You anticipate my next move. I brake hard and pull in just in front of the two. You follow suit and pull up right behind them.

 

This part of the road is very isolated and covered with trees and high grass. The sudden arrival of us both startles both of them. While still wearing my full-face mirrored helmet, I tell them not to move. To reinforce my command I produce my 380 semi auto and point it in their general vicinity. They both instinctively raise their hands.

“No, Stupid” I say, and wave the gun at them and say “Pay attention to what the fuck I said.” They both immediately drop their arms and stand back from the side of the road. You pull out your 380, another throw-away gun to be disposed of after we return. With both of us armed, we force them deeper into the forest. We stop when we have sufficiently cleared the shoulder and are not visible from the road. You keep your 380 on them as I go through their pockets. Between the two of them I find two 9mm Rugers, the hit man’s choice, as well as some papers. One of the two says “Let us go, we’re just college students. We got lost.”

 

I look at him very closely. “Why aren’t you nervous? Anyone else in your position would be scared shitless, but you’re calm enough. You’re not afraid?” I quizzed. The guy looked puzzled and said yeah, that he was scared. I said “Watch ’em real closely while I see what’s in this stuff here.”

 

I go over to my bike and sit down, starting to read through the papers from the one guy’s backpack. After a while I look up and sigh. “You know what we’ve got here? Our fuckin’ killers. The boss sent these two fucking idiots to get us on the way back. I guess their car broke down and they had to walk. What a fuckin’ shame.” Both of us grin inside our helmets. You order the both of them to lie face down and drop their pants. Both responded “”No fuckin’ way dude. We’re straight” To which I reply, “I know.” They both require a bit more intimidation with our side arms to fully comply with our commands, but eventually, they do as they are told. You go to your bike and retrieve some large plastic ty-wraps to handcuff these fucking punks. We handcuff them with their hands behind their backs. Both of them are enraged at being fucked by two older professional hit men, even with the danger of death present. Their anger is self-righteous and strong, because they feel violated, and in the worst way possible. We both slip our cocks out our leathers, kneel and enter them both at the same time. The captives make sounds of anger, frustration at being helpless and sometimes in pain/pleasure during our little love-making session.

 

The guy I am fucking is getting more aroused by the second. I know he is getting a full erection. In the middle of my pleasurable fuck, he ejaculates. When he does this, he begins to cry because he’s straight, but finds being fucked so arousing that he can’t keep from coming. We glance at each other once or twice, as if seeing each other’s leathered figure in pleasure made us both more powerful and invincible. We both climax almost simultaneously and push up and off the two. They both turn their heads and show their reaction to this indignity, after all the embarrassment and shame at being made our bitches. They start to get up, and I ask their names. The taller one says “You’re one dead motherfucker!” I ask him again and he tells me to go fuck myself.

 

The guy you fucked didn’t come, but achieved a hard-on. He remained silent. The crying one, who I was trying to talk to, stopped sniveling and looked at me with a combination of sorrow and embarrassment. After all, he had been violated, made to be some guy’s bitch against his will, which totally blew his mind. HE was the one who was supposed to kill me, and I was the one who ended up not only catching on to him, but giving him some retribution for thinking him and his buddy could outthink and outsmart us. What a joke!

 

After a little while, you suggest another round with them before we leave. My dark mood brightens considerably when the thought of humiliating the cocky young punk again comes to mind, so I agree enthusiastically. This time we throw them over the seats on our respective bikes and start fucking them both again. This time they are a little more cooperative than the first time. The first fuck must have taken a little of the fight out of them, but they both meant to kill us if they ever get the chance. We fuck them again for a while, and, of course, the one I’m boning starts crying again. He must be ready to ejaculate again, so I come at the same time, just to give him a double thrill. He groans when I pull out of him, and begins to push himself off the bike. Your dude is starting to become cool with what is happening. He is resigned to it. You and he come at the same time and you spend a little time in him, enjoying the moment. You get out of him and get up. He also gets up off the bike seat. They are both standing in front of us as I ask you if there’s anything else. You say no, so we pull our 380’s and put a round between both of the young killer’s eyes. Their bodies jerk a bit and they both fall forward. 

 

There is a constant wind that blows across this place that never ceases. The tall grass and trees will cover what will never be found. We know this, as we ride away on our bikes, leaving a large dust cloud. We are also making plans to take care of our problem at the office that caused this little incident. Within two days of our return, the office “problem” is eliminated.