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THE ADVENTURES OF LITTLE DICK - THE WOLFPACK

Date: 8/22/2015, Categories: True Story, Author: cyrano, Rating: 25, Source: sexstories.com

Did I know her? I didn't recognize her, and I'm good with faces. Maybe she's the daughter or niece of someone I know. "Man, I ain't here to chase pussy," I said. There were some mumblings of "yeah, your right," and we went back to our conversation. The girls moved on. Five minutes later they were back, ordered drinks at the bar, and then headed toward the tables. Again, I felt one of them was boring a hole in me. Maybe I had lipstick on my face; there was a lot of kissing and hugging at the funeral. I got up to check myself in the mirror hanging behind the bar, and then it hit me. It's the fucking suit! They think we're rich. Well, two of us were rich. Buck was ex-NFL and now a successful entrepreneur, and Gary is socking it away as a real-estate developer. My buddies still hadn't caught on to what was happening, but I sure had. We were being hunted. This was a wolfpack. "They're checking us out again," said Buck. By then I had identified the one staring at me as the Alpha Bitch. Anger started to well up in me. This bitch had me pegged as the weak one; the one to cull from the herd. "Wait a minute. I Think they're scoping Cyrano," Buck said before they all burst out into loud laughter - a little too loud for my ego to handle. Buck should have known better. I hopped off my stool and marched a straight line to Alpha Bitch. "Hi, I'm Cyrano," I said extending my hand. "Kristen." "Would you and your friends like to go to a party, Kristen? "That depends. A party were?" "Slash." ... Their mouths dropped open, and then came the squeals. "Are you serious!" "Dead serious. Let me have your number; I'll call you with the details." I walked back to the bar triumphant. "What the fuck just happened?" Buck blurted out. He and the boys were awestruck. And that's exactly the effect I was after. "Have you forgotten who I am?" I said smuggly."I'm Cyrano." Are we still laughing? I didn't think so. Slash Slash wasn't a night club. It was a rumor. Everybody seemed to have a story about Slash, but it was all second hand. Few were actually privileged enough to step foot into a Slash party. Slash was the brain child of Mr. Chen. It was a brilliant concept, perfectly tailored for the superficial, status conscious city of Los Angeles. He sent recruiters out for the youngest most beautiful bodies they could find. No one under twenty one or over twenty four qualified. Everyone's personal information was checked before they were put on a call list. Those on this list were known as "meat." Pitchmen were then dispatched to the hottest celebrities in Hollywood to sell Mr. Chen's meat. Those on this call list were known as "shoppers". What made Slash click was its straight forward and brutal honesty: the meat got to rub elbows with the stars, and the stars had their pick of the most beautiful bodies in Los Angeles. Slash had no location. An agreement was worked out with club owners all over the city. Slash parties rotated from club to club. Nobody but Slash's security detail and the ...