Billionairess Thief (An Erotic Tale) Read online

  Something made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The entire time, he had been trying to warn me, but I had paid him no mind. I tore my eyes away from him to see what he was suddenly staring at behind me.

  That’s when I spotted the Russians. They were four formidable looking characters, just as Micheves had described them. They seem to walk almost in sync with each other. One of the men was elderly, slightly hunched with age. He had gnarly gray bushy eyebrows, and was built like a tank. The other three were extremely handsome, tall, with a youthful vim and lithe, athletic strides. They could have passed for models, dressed in black tailored suits and short, cropped military haircuts. Just looking at them stirred up my libido. They looked like they had stepped out of G.Q. Magazine. I thought of how delicious it would be to have them all take me at once. My hormones were raging, but something told me to watch. Be careful. I listened astutely to my thief’s inner instinct.

  What is Mark up to? Distracted by all of the raw sexuality in the room, I had almost missed something.

  In front of them, and directly behind them, they were flanked by a phalanx of armed men. Their weapons were concealed under their suit coats as they surveyed every occupant in the lobby. I felt a timorous shiver run down my spine. A murmur of hushed voices resonated in the lobby as people gandered, mouths agape in awe. I noticed Mark move stealthily. He reached for something under his suit coat. It suddenly occurred to me that it was a gun. A ripple of nausea erupted through my gut as I realized that he and his team were about to rob the Russians.

  He waved, giving some type of cryptic signal to the phantom figures that I imagined were ensconced somewhere in the hotel lobby. I turned around and did a quick reconnaissance to see if I could pinpoint members of his team, as he watched the Russians. The drama continued to unfold in slow surrealistic motion. There were too many Russians. Micheves had briefed my family, and I’m sure he did the same with the Gottis. We were only expecting four Russians to be transporting the jewels. I counted a total of ten. This had to present a problem for Mark. I silently prayed that he would pull back and not attempt such a daring robbery against insurmountable odds.

  Suddenly, there was more activity in the lobby. I recognized some of the players from the Gotti team. The same old man who was being assisted by the African, stopped and furtively talked into his earpiece. That’s when I noticed the bulge under his suit jacket. The African, disguised as a bellhop, was holding a luggage carrier with his hand inside. I was almost certain it contained some type of high powered shotgun, maybe even a rocket launcher.

  Mark got up and walked over to them. They pretended to casually chat, but I know they were mobilizing to rob the Russians. It was just too many of them. Too risky a move for Mark to attempt the robbery. Surely, the Gottis must have a counterplan?

  __________

  The Russians, as if sensing an ambush, continued to strategically position themselves near the elevator, forming a gauntlet.

  A staff employee appeared from out of nowhere. His skin was swarthy black. His white hotel uniform was ironed, creased, and stiff as a board. He too had something concealed in his pants. He was sweating profusely. What looked like coffee, glistened from his shiny black forehead as it cascaded down his angular chin. He was unattractive, with shifty, beady eyes. A deep angry scar was chiseled into his left cheek. As he talked to me, he continued to look over his shoulder at the Russians, then at Mark, as if he was waiting for some type of signal.

  “Ma’am would you like to buy a newspaper?” It dawned on me that he was using me as decoy to make a brazen attempt to rob the Russians. He was part of the Gotti family’s team. My stomach churned with a heightened anxiety. I completely ignored him. I needed to move, get out of the way of the possible gunplay.

  I looked back to the Russians. Instantly, the moment was volatile. They watched everything, and everyone like they had been forewarned. I already knew what room they were going to, suite 217. I had a room right across the hall from them. I couldn’t help but wonder if someone had alerted them that they were going to be robbed. It sure appeared that way. Someone had warned the Russians.

  I heard the elevator chime its arrival as the doors opened. As the Russians prepared to board, it seemed like every occupant in the lobby moved and headed for the elevator. There was no doubt in my mind that some of the people were Gotti’s team, getting in position to pull off the robbery. Mark had taken the lead. He walked briskly with purposeful intent. He was the first person at the elevator, his hand concealed inside his jacket. As he passed me, he turned and scowled an optic warning to get out of the way.

  “Oh God, no!” I muttered under my breath. My heart slammed against my rib cage as I watched the drama unfold. That’s when I heard a halting voice that sent shivers down my spine.

  “Stop! Do not come any closer!” it was one of the Russians. He unsheathed his weapon, and aimed it at Mark’s chest. I gasped in horror, then I heard the falsetto of a woman’s scream.

  Chapter two

  The Enemy Within

  The staccato sound of weapons being engaged filled the lobby. The other hotel patrons froze, standing still. Mark had no choice but to stop in his tracks, so did his team. I saw both riveting defeat and rigid fear etched on his handsome face.

  Suddenly, I had a bright idea, or maybe a suicide plot, but I got up from my chair. In all the heightened attention, I strolled over to the elevator with an undulating stride that would have made even Tyra Banks jealous. One of the Russians moved in front of me to block my path. I politely stepped around him and entered the elevator. I turned to see them exchange whimsical stares. My heart pounded in my thorax. Then, the older Russian, who was built like a tank looked at his comrades and smiled. I heard a guffaw and some chuckles.

  The younger Russian turned to me and barked, “You dun’t take orders very well do you?” He said in broken English.

  “It depends on what I’m ordered to do.” I flippantly countered with a seductive smile, and thrust my ample breast forward by placing my hand on the curvature of my slim waist and tossing a mane of hair over my shoulder. It was my signature diva statement.

  He just stared at me. I had them stumped. They began to exchange words in their native language.

  More laughter.

  Finally, the first four Russians entered the elevator as their security stood outside. I caught Mark staring me with what looked like scathing envy.

  The door closed. The young man that I had made eye contact with turned to me and ogled my body. So did the rest of his comrades. That’s when I noticed that the sliver metallic briefcase he held in his hand was handcuffed to his wrist. It was just like out of a scene from an old 1940’s movie. There was no doubt whatsoever, that diamonds were in the suitcase, THE diamonds. I gave him a cashmere smile. Haphazardly, the plan was starting to form.

  “American women are bold. In my country, you would have been shot.” The handsome young Russian said as the elevator door closed.

  “American women have been known to shoot back!” I retorted.

  A raucous chorus of laugher erupted. They were finding humor in me. I couldn’t help but smile. The whole while, I wondered how he knew I was American. I turned and boldly looked him square in the eyes. His biceps showed beneath his tailored suit. His corn silk blond hair was boyishly frizzy at the sides. He had dazzling aquamarine blue eyes that enchanted me with his Russian aura. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old.

  The elderly Russian patted him on the back jovially, and spoke to him in a firm tone, similar to what a mentor would use to chide his student. More laughter. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a large wad of bills, all Russian currency. The elderly man then winked at the younger man, as if to say, ‘watch this’.

  He shoved the money in my face. “We wunt to have fun with you. You take money for your time?” His English was terrible.

  I was offended. They thought I was a prostitute. Vanity wounded, I almost lost my temper. Then I saw the young Russian
with the briefcase shackled to his wrist, lasciviously studying me with lust in his eyes. As he drooled, staring at my large breasts, I suddenly had an idea.

  I cooed like a sexpot in my best Marilyn Monroe imitation. “Sorry darling, but you need more cash than that.” I blew him a kiss.

  His face paled with embarrassment. His buddies razzed him, especially the young man with the briefcase. They joked around. I realized right then that all men are pretty much the same. Regardless of race, creed, or economic background, they could all be lured by the temptation of a beautiful siren.

  Suddenly, I heard the crackle of a radio coming to life. The older Russian glared at his comrades for silence as he spoke into a small device in his hand. He issued some type of command to the younger men and the elevator door slowly opened. They all stood at attention and moved away from me as if I had the plague. Their security team stood outside the elevator, waiting obsequiously. They most have taken the stairs. It seemed they had been trained for this very ordeal. Again, I got the uncanny feeling that they knew an attempt would be made to rob them of the diamonds.

  I walked out of the elevator, strutting ostensibly with so much oomph that a few of the men groaned lewdly as I passed. My sweet smelling perfume permeated the air. They watched my derriere sway from side to side. For some reason, I enjoyed the attention.

  Chapter Three

  Sheep’s clothing

  I rushed into my luxurious hotel room, leaving the door slightly ajar. I quickly undressed, almost to my bare essence. I had on a lacy Victoria’s Secret bra and G-string panties. I pretended to be looking at something on the floor. As I bent over, I could hear the footfalls as the Russian men approached. Ass in the air, I glanced between my legs to see if they had passed. My body was on fire, a Fahrenheit of horny lust. I was in heat, hot and horny. The sheer magnitude of the moment, the suspense, the thrill of it all. Their testosterone piqued my sexuality. Being surrounded by men stirred my estrogen. My erogenous zones percolated. I stuck a nimble finger in my pussy and stroked my kitty until it I started to purr. I needed a man.

  I looked up and saw one of the young Russians peek through the door, then another. They were taking turns looking at me. I stood up and gave them a slow strip tease. First, I took off my bra. The Russian that had the briefcase stood and gawked at the show I was putting on. Then, I heard a deep baritone voice. The men were being disciplined by the elderly man.

  He looked in the door and saw my partial nudity. His gnarly eyebrows bunched up tightly across his forehead in shock as he took in an eye full of my body. He grunted and turned away. I laughed out loud, walked over to the door, and closed it.

  I was becoming more aroused by the minute. I looked through the peep hole and watched them enter the room across the hall. Three sentries stood outside, the others were spread strategically throughout the hotel. It suddenly occurred to me that the Russians had the diamonds as secure at Fort Knox. Still, I had an idea. It was risky, not to mention desperate. I pondered this as I absentmindedly played in my pussy.

  I heard some commotion, and walked over to peer out the peep hole. I saw the men leaving, everyone except the guy with the briefcase, and his young Russian comrade who had entered the lobby. A lone Russian stood out in the hall on post. I wasn’t certain just who else could be in the room.

  I walked over to the vanity, picked up the phone, and dialed the operator. I asked her to connect me to 316, the suite across the hall.

  Whoever it was that answered the phone on the first ring.

  “Hello?” A Russian voice inquired.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” I said in a sultry voice as I stroked myself.

  “Who is this?”

  “Your next door neighbor. You just saw me on the elevator. I’m across the hall, all alone,” I said in a breathy seductive voice that even turned me on as continued to play with myself.

  “The woman!” The voice on the phone exclaimed excitedly. Then I heard muffled chattter, like someone had their hand over the phone. Then the voice returned.

  “What is it that you want?” the voice said with good English.

  “I want to come over and suck your cock while your friend fucks my ass. Have you ever tried anilingus –“

  “Anna what?” The Russian quipped.

  “It means anal sex. Like when a woman licks your balls, your ass…”

  “In my country, it is a requirement that we learn American English. But they never taughtus that.” Someone in the room laughed. It was then that I realized I was on speakerphone.

  “I will teach you. Come to my room. Russian men like to get their cuck sucked? They like to fuck? They like pussy?” I cooed.

  The voice on the other end, demurred. I heard the rustle of clothes, then whispers.

  “Nestor, our commander, gave strict orders for us not to leave.” I was certain he was talking about the older man.

  Nestor… the name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put a finger on it.

  “Nestor? Oh, I see…” My mind plotted. I had him talking, I could tell he was much younger than I thought he was.

  “And what is your name?” I asked.

  “Makar Konstantin,” he responded hesitantly.

  “Makar, how about if I come over there to please you? To get down on my knees, and suck, your cock. Do you have company?”

  “Yes, Andrei is here, but that is not possible. That would get us into trouble.”

  “No, you won’t get into any trouble. You can sneak in and out of my room real quickly. Have you ever had an American woman suck your cock? I will let you come in my mouth. All over my face, on my breast. Would you like that Makar?”

  I heard him groan. I listened to a whispered debate in a foreign language while I waited. Finally, a different voice came on the phone.

  “That is not possible. It will only work if you suck everyone’s cock, even Alexander’s.”

  “Who is Alexander?” I asked in a soft sensuous tone.

  “He is the soldier stationed outside the door. He is a friend as well, besides if you please him too, he might not tell Nestor.”

  My mouth satiated at just the thought of all those cocks, and grttind my hands on the diamonds.

  “I will do anything you tell me to. I will please him, you, your friends, everybody at once if you like,” I said.

  My mind was on the diamonds now. It felt like I was about to have an orgasm and cream on my fingers, but I needed more.

  The voice returned. “I don’t know, but it maybe not be possible. But we will try, and if not, one day I come to America and look you up?”

  “No! No!” I almost panicked. I was losing them that fast. “You come to my room now. I have everything you need.” My voice was edgy. In the background I heard someone say vodka.

  “I have vodka. Plenty of vodka. Do you and your comrades like to drink, Makar?” There were more muffled sounds, followed by whispering. His voice returned more hushed this time, he was almost whispering.

  “Yes, yes, we like vodka very much, but we have been forbidden to drink on this mission. It has been days since we have had vodka. Do you have Russian vodka?”

  “I have all the Russian vodka you want, and plenty of pussy to please each one of you.” I lied. I could hear a polyglot of voices as he exchanged words with his comrades.

  Finally, the voice returned. “Let me think about it. I will call you back. What is your name?”

  “Marilyn… Marilyn Brown.” I said subtly. The whole time, my mind was racing. Then I asked out of curiosity, “Which one are you?”

  “I am the one that was dressed in the black suit. I was standing next to you. You kept looking at me.” I could envision him smiling over the phone.

  “Oh, you’re the sexy one that had the briefcase in your hand.”

  He chuckled, “I don’t know about sexy, but that was me. I will let you know something within the hour. You do have vodka, correct. Perhaps you can send some over?”

  That was the first time he spoke with a lispi
ng broken English that was true to form for a Russian.

  “Yes, I have all the vodka.”

  “Okay, we will see.” He abruptly hung up the phone.

  By then, cum, thick as honey was running down my inner thigh, gushing all over my fingers. I was so horny I was about to pull my hair out. I remember the psychiatrist saying something about me being psychosexual. Meaning to have an abnormal concern with sex. I walked over to my Louis Vuitton luggage and took out my eight inch long bullet vibrator. I spread my labia, and eased it into my wet pussy. I slowly began to please myself to new highs. I was approaching sexual nirvana as I stood and placed my leg on the couch for better access, slowly going in and out of my wetness. I threw my head back, hair splayed haphazardly across my face. I was nearly at the precipice of a seismic orgasm when it suddenly dawned on me that I needed to get some vodka to help seduce the men.