4 comments/ 55922 views/ 2 favorites That Angel Face By: Laurie Laurie passed the joint to Taylor and watched her friend take a deep drag on the marijuana cigarette. Taylor held the smoke in her lungs for as long as possible before blowing out and then she took another hit on the joint. She was about to pass it back to Laurie when Laurie’s phone began to ring. Laurie waved off on the joint, so Taylor took a third hit as Laurie was answering her phone. Laurie checked her caller ID and said, “Shit.” Then she pressed the talk button and said, “What is it, Mo?” “Jesus H. Christ, girl,” Mo said. “You could sound a little happier to hear from me than that. Where you at?” “At a party. Smoking a joint with Taylor. You know. Having fun.” “I got work for you.” “I just told you I was at a party. We’re having fun, plus I met some new friends tonight and I don’t want to bail on them.” “Five grand,” Mo said. “After my cut.” “What?” “Yep. Five thousand dollars can make up for a lot of missed fun.” “What do I have to do? Ain’t no one going to give me five g for a straight fuck.” “Go to the Cattleman’s Inn and knock on room 936. Tell them you’re there from the babysitting service.” “Shit, Mo,” she said. “I don’t look twelve years old anymore.” “You look close enough. You’re still my angel face.” “Yeah, right,” she said. “An angel’s face and a devil’s heart.” “You don’t have a devil’s heart, Laurie. You don’t even have one at all.” “Fuck you too, Mo,” she said. “Who you sending with me?” “Nobody’s available, but it’s cool. The guy’s with Desmond.” “Desmond?” “You remember Desmond? My attorney. You and that British chick did a threesome with him a couple of years ago.” “Oh yeah,” Laurie giggled. “He still think she’s my aunt?” “I’m pretty sure he does,” Mo said. “So, it’s cool. Just take a cab to the Cattleman’s. Dress up in your Catholic School outfit.” “I know what to do, Mo.” “Okay,” Mo said. “And Laurie. Obviously Desmond knows you’re really twenty years old, but the other guy really is going to think you’re coming there to baby sit and just got the wrong room, so roll with it.” “I got it, Mo,” she said. “Who is your best girl?” “You are.” “Then don’t fucking sweat me.” Laurie hanged up her phone and accepted the joint back from Taylor. After taking the last hit on it, she tossed the joint in the toilet and flushed. Taylor looked at her expectantly, but Laurie merely shrugged and said, “What’s a working bitch like me to do?” Taylor giggled and said, “Kelli’s busy with Howie, so I’ll take care of Jennifer for you.” Laurie smiled. “I’m sure you will. You been wanting her for a while.” Taylor sighed and said, “Fucking A, but I never in a million years would have thought it possible. When she and Dina showed up at your apartment today, I would have bet a million bucks that they’d both turn tail and run as soon as they started getting hit on.” Laurie’s smile widened. “They turned tail all right, but not to run.” Taylor’s giggle turned into an outright laugh, and Laurie gave her a quick kiss before saying, “Have fun, baby. I got to go earn.” * Desmond was beside himself trying to keep Pierre in the hotel room. Whatever possessed me to want to manage a fighter, he thought. This guy just blew out the mandatory challenger and he’s one fight away from being the lightweight champion of the world. I’ve just got to get him back to Paris where his people can help me keep him out of trouble. Pierre Duval had a taste for young pussy, which just wasn’t tolerated here in the United States. Even in Texas where the age of consent was seventeen, officials would frown on just how young Pierre liked his pussy. This fight had been on the verge of disaster from the second Desmond had managed to sign it. The champ didn’t want to fight Pierre, so he’d petitioned the IBF to make him fight an elimination bout. Already being the number one contender, Pierre had balked and almost refused, but Desmond had convinced him it was the only sure way at a title shot. Still, only wanting a title fight, Pierre had not trained properly for this one and had struggled to make weight. He’d actually weighed over the 135-pound limit by three pounds on the first try, but he’d gone back to the sauna for an hour and made it on the second try. Thank God Pierre had scored a first round knock out. Desmond was sure he wouldn’t have had the stamina for a long fight. But, before that, visa problems had kept any of Pierre’s normal handlers from being able to get into the country. Again, Pierre was ready to call off the fight, but Desmond had convinced him to continue. Now, pumped up and full of post fight adrenaline, Pierre wanted to party. He’d started drinking the second Desmond got him back to the hotel, and he wanted to go hit the bars. From past experience with Pierre, Desmond knew nothing good would come of that. He also knew Pierre wouldn’t be happy with any of the girls that could legally get into a bar in Texas. So, he’d called Mo. Mo was a pimp, but he didn’t like to think of himself as a pimp. He listed his occupation on his tax return as ‘Provider.’ He claimed he made his living by ‘providing’ for the wants, needs and desires of his clients. What a crock of shit. The man was a fucking pimp. Desmond knew the girl Mo was sending. She must be in her twenties but when he’d seen her two years ago she could easily pass for thirteen or fourteen. Easily. Desmond hoped and prayed that she hadn’t aged. “Fuck this shit, Desmond” Pierre was screaming in his heavy French accent. “I’ve got to get out of here.” “You’re scheduled for an early flight back to Paris,” Desmond pleaded. “If we go out, we’ll never make it up in time for you to get to the airport tomorrow morning.” “I don’t give a fuck. We’ll catch the next plane.” “I’d think you would want to catch the first plane that you can, so you can celebrate in Paris. Hell, I’ll even get us a suite on the beach down in Nice. Think about all those pretty ladies on vacation running around the beach topless.” “Fuck that shit,” Pierre spat. “I want a girl right now.” Of course he said girl and not woman, Desmond thought with regret. He was just about to plead with Pierre some more when there was a knock at the door. Thank God, he thought. Laurie is here. I just pray she still looks thirteen. * Laurie took one last look in her compact mirror before knocking on the door. Sixteen, she thought. I can still claim sixteen. She squeezed her B cups together and thought, why’d they have to grow so fucking much? After receiving Mo’s call, she’d gone back to her apartment and showered and washed the smell of smoke and pot out of her hair. She hadn’t put any make up on, and tried to look as young as she could. The pleated skirt, white short sleeved blouse, white lace trim socks folded down over her ankles and black penny loafers helped make her look like the school girl she wanted to appear to be. She’d left her face free of make-up and to tell the truth the face that stared back at her from her compact did look about fifteen or sixteen. Still, once her clothes came off and the john saw her tits and her ass, he was going to know she was twenty. “Oh fucking well,” she said as she closed her compact and dropped it into the book bag she carried to complete her Catholic schoolgirl look. She knocked firmly on the door and waited until it opened. As soon as it did, she smiled when she saw Desmond and using her best Texas drawl said, “Hi. Y’all called for a babysitter?” Playing the part, Desmond shook his head and said, “No. We don’t need a babysitter.” “Well, darn,” Laurie said. “Can I use your phone?” “Sure,” Desmond said. “Come on in.” Laurie stepped into the hotel room, saw the compact man, not much bigger than she, and no bigger than her friend Taylor, flashed a brighter smile his way and said, “Howdy, hon. Y’all look familiar.” Pierre smiled and made no attempt to hide the lust from his face, then said in an accent so thick that she could barely understand his words, “You watch boxing, no?” “My dad and my brothers do.” “I am Pierre Duval.” “O-o-o-o-h. Okay,” she said. “You’re that French guy. Yeah, they’re a big fan of yours.” “Give me your panties and I’ll autograph them for them.” Laurie made herself blush and pretended to not believe he was serious. Then she picked up the hotel room phone and dialed nine to get an outside line. Then she punched in Mo’s number and waited for him to pick up. When he answered, she said, “This is Laurie. I’m at room 936 at the Cattleman’s Inn, but they say they didn’t call for a babysitter plus there’s no kids in sight.” She held the phone for a minute pretending to listen to Mo. “Oh. You said the Imperial. I thought you said the Cattleman’s.” She held the phone for another moment and then said, “Well, shoot. What do you want me to do? The Imperial is in Irving and I’m over here in Ft. Worth.” After another pause, she hanged up the phone and said, “Guess I’m out of luck tonight. He’s going to send someone else.” “What a shame, Cheri.” Pierre said. “Darn,” she said. “A friend of my brother invited me to a party too. Guess I should have gone.” “What kind of party, Cheri?” She giggled and said, “A fun one I hope, but I’ll never know now. And my name isn’t Sherry. It’s Laurie.” Looking puzzled for a moment, Pierre finally looked to Desmond for help. Desmond handed Pierre a drink and said, “He wasn’t calling you Sherry. He was saying Cheri. It’s a French term of endearment.” “Oh,” she said. “Gee. I’m sorry. I just misunderstood.” Pierre took a sip of the drink and enjoyed the taste of the bourbon. He hated Americans, but he loved their whiskey. After taking another sip, he said, “Tell me, Laurie. What would you be doing if you were at this party with your brother and his friend?” She blushed. “No be embarrassed,” Pierre said. “Most perhaps we will never see you again. You can tell us things you don’t want your parents to know.” She showed fake shock by opening her mouth wide and covering it with her hand, then said, “You are terrible, Pierre.” He smiled and said, “That is what they all tell me.” Desmond laughed and said, “Yes they do.” “Now, Laurie. I insist. Tell us of this fun party and Desmond will get you a drink.” “Can I have a drink like yours?” Intrigued, Pierre said, “What kind of drink do you think I have?” “It smells like bourbon. Probably Jim Beam.” “A-a-a-h,” Pierre said. “You have good nose for bourbon.” “Good tongue for it too.” “Laurie,” he said. Dragging out the last syllable of her name. “I am starting to think you are naughty girl. How old are you that you already have a tongue for bourbon?” She lowered her eyes and as Desmond handed her a glass, she said, “How old do you think I am?” As she was taking a sip of the Jim Beam, Pierre said, “I think not more than fourteen.” She enjoyed the feel of Kentucky’s finest hitting the back of her throat and didn’t even bother to act like she wasn’t used to the taste. Then she said, “You’re close. I met a guy in the mall yesterday that thought I was twelve.” “No. No,” Pierre said. “Maybe in the face. But the body is much too, how do you say it, ripe for a twelve-year-old girl. Now tell me. How old are you?” Reading the pure lust in his heart, Laurie was thinking, should I go one over the fourteen he guessed or one year under it. What the fuck, she thought. Just pick one. Then she said, “I’m fifteen.” “No,” Pierre said. “You can not be fifteen.” She smiled and said, “Promise not to take the whiskey away.” “Of course,” Pierre said. She looked at Desmond and said, “What about you?” Before he could answer, Pierre said, “He promises too, Cheri. How old are you?” “Thirteen,” she said. Then she took another drink of the Jim Beam and coke as she thought, I can’t believe I’m making this dumb Frog believe I’m only thirteen. “Nice,” Pierre said. “Now let us hear about the things that you would be doing with your brother and his friend. The fun things.” She took a third drink before holding up her glass and saying, “This is one of them.” Pierre shook his head and said, “You bad little girl.” Laurie giggled. Then she drank the rest of the glass and held it up, signaling she wanted another. Pierre shook has head slowly and said, “You are bad, aren’t you?” Okay, Laurie, she thought while she ran the scene through her mind. How do you want to play this? Aloud, she said, “I’m only a little bad.” “Really? Only a little?” “Well,” she said. “Maybe a little bit more than a little.” Pierre and Desmond both laughed as Desmond handed her another drink. She sipped it and tried to look innocent as she smiled. Then Pierre said, “What else would you be doing at this party with your brother and his friend?” “A little kissing maybe,” she said. “Really,” Pierre said? “And where would your brother be while you are kissing his friend?” Laurie shrugged. “I don’t know.” “Would he be watching?” She giggled. “Maybe.” “Has he ever watched you?” “Watched me what?” “Kiss his friend.” “Oh,” she said. “Yeah, he’s watched me do that.” “What else has he watched you do?” Jesus, she thought. Should I play the curious virgin or the precocious slut? “What do you mean, Pierre?” “Has he ever watched his friend touch you?” “Touch me?” “Yes. Touch you. Here,” Pierre said as he let his hand rest on her thigh and cautiously move up to the hem of her skirt. Laurie sucked her breath in and said, “He’s seen him do that.” “Hmmm,” Pierre said as he moved the hand inside her skirt and let his fingers play with the lace trim of her panties. Laurie sucked her breath in again and moved away. Pierre smiled as he chose to remove his hand rather than try to hold her to him. Then he let the fingers of that same hand brush across the nipple that was budding through her shirt. “What about there,” he said? “Has he touched you there?” Laurie suppressed a gasp and nodded. “My my, mon cheri,” he said as he continued to brush her nipple. “You are very bad. And your brother watched while his friend did this?” She eased his hand from her breast and said, “Yes.” Pierre watched as she sipped her drink and said, “I sense a story behind this.” As his hand rested again on her thigh and slowly moved back into her skirt, she gasped as she felt his fingers brush the lips of her slit over the cloth of her cotton panties. She stood up and said, “I have to go.” “Go,” he said? “But you just got here.” “I shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be doing that.” “You let your brother’s friend do it, and you let your brother watch. What’s wrong with letting me touch you while Desmond watches?” “That’s different.” “Different, cheri. How is it different?” “They’re only a couple of years older than I am.” Pierre laughed and said, “Once you’ve had a man, you’ll forget about boys.” Laurie tried to act nervous and said, “I’ll stick to boys for now.” “No you won’t,” Pierre said. She arched her eyebrows and said, “I won’t, huh.” “No,” he said. “You won’t.” Then he slapped her across the mouth. She fell onto the bed, rolled over it to the other side and said, “What the fuck, asshole? That ain’t the deal.” Pierre grunted as he, quick as a cat, launched himself over the bed and was upon her. “There is no deal, Cheri,” he said. “Only what I want to happen.” Before she could respond, she felt an explosion along the side of her head that must have been Pierre Duval’s fist, and everything went black. When she awakened, she found herself lying face up on the bed with her hands extended and tied together to the headboard. Her legs were open and each foot was securely bound to opposing bedposts. As more of her senses returned, she futilely tried to kick and writhe herself loose while she screamed in protest. Seeing Pierre standing naked on one side of the bed and Desmond standing naked on the other only infuriated her that much more. “You fucking fucks. What the fuck do you think you’re fucking doing?” Pierre laughed as he ripped open her blouse, exposing her heaving bosom, and lowered his lips to one of her nipples. After a brief suck of each nipple, he raised his head and said, “We’re going to fuck you, Cheri. What did you think we were doing?” She raised her hips off the bed and furiously tried to buck Pierre off of her. Pierre easily held her down as if she were the mere child she had been posing to be. Finally, he lifted her checkered skirt, ripped the cotton panties from her body, and eased himself between her legs. As exhaustion made her stop bucking, he slowly traced the lips of her pussy with his ramrod stiff boner. She cursed herself silently for not having the strength to continue to fight, and cursed herself again for her body’s natural reaction to his touch. “Motherfucker,” she whispered as her cunt grew wet and glistened the head of his cock. Pierre laughed and said, “What was that, Cheri?” “Motherfucker,” she snarled at him through gritted teeth. Pierre laughed louder as he eased the head of his cock through her slit. “I have no wish to fuck your mother, Cheri. I only want to fuck you.” Laurie gasped as he penetrated her with one quick, powerful thrust. Then he pulled his cock from her until only the tip was left inside and quickly rammed it into her again. Laurie noticed his face contorting and his eyes glazing and to her surprise, he pulled his cock from her and sprayed her tits with his semen. Then she began to laugh. As his eyes clouded with anger, she said, “Is that all you got?” He slapped her hard across the mouth, and then slapped her twice more. She spit blood at him and said, “You don’t hit much better than you fuck. I don’t know how you’re ever going to be champ.” Pierre raised his fist and punched her nose, breaking it and sending blood rushing out of her nostrils. He raised it again, but stopped to take pause. The open look of defiance in her eyes gripped him and he lowered his fist and rose from his position between her legs. He turned to Desmond and said, “This cunt is all yours.” Mockingly, as Pierre stepped into the bathroom, Laurie taunted, “Yeah, Desmond. Better fuck me now. Once Mo finds out about this, you are one dead meat motherfucker. Come on, Des. This asshole just worked me up. Least someone could do is make me cum.” “Shut the fuck up, Laurie,” Desmond said as he reached for his pants. “What the fuck,” she continued to taunt. “Come on, faggot. You may not live long enough to have a girl naked again. Better fuck this one while you can.” He finished stepping into his pants before saying, “You think I’m worried about Mo.” “You better be.” Desmond laughed. “He’s got lot’s of whores, you stupid little bitch; but I keep his ass out of jail.” “Yeah, right. Lawyers are a dime a dozen, but how many girls does he have that look young the way I do.” Desmond shrugged and said, “You just don’t get it, Laurie. Mo knew exactly what was going to happen to you tonight. He’s just as tired of you, and he’s tired of your mouth. He’s done with you.” “Fuck you, Desmond.” “You wish.” “You fuck,” she screamed. “At least untie me.” “I’ll untie you,” he said. “Then you’re going to get the fuck out of here, and don’t think you’re getting paid for this either.” As soon as she was freed from her last bond, Laurie sprung and kicked Desmond full force in his nut sack. The attorney doubled over and fell to the floor. Laurie stepped over him and found where her bag had been tossed. Then she reached into her bag and removed the 0.380 Beretta from the bottom. * Laurie quietly slipped into the bedroom Cleo had told her Taylor was using. Without turning on the lights, she let her clothes drop to the floor and felt her way to the bed. Sleeping under the sheets were Taylor and Taylor’s friend Jennifer. Thinking of the way they’d played earlier before coming to the party, Jennifer was now Laurie’s friend too. That Angel Face As Laurie slipped under the sheet and crawled into bed with them, Taylor stirred slightly, rolled over, and continued to sleep. But, Jennifer sat up and rubbed her eyes. Seeing Laurie in bed with them, she said, “Hey, you.” “Hey, cutie,” Laurie said. “Did you hear the news?” “What news,” Laurie asked? “That boxer from France that fought in Ft. Worth tonight. They found him dead in his hotel room with some guy.” “Really,” Laurie said. “Wow.” “Yeah,” Jennifer said. “Some kind of murder suicide thing.” “Unbelievable,” Laurie said. Wonder if they said anything about a dead pimp too, she thought. “Get some sleep, cutie.” Then she pulled Jennifer into her arms so they could snuggle up to slumber; and as she did so, she hoped her new friend didn’t notice the tears flowing down her cheeks.