1. The Hitter


    Date: 8/23/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: gilrenard, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    Doreen stepped on it with one foot and lifted the hem of her dress up to the top of her thighs. I stared at her smooth, slender, shapely legs and smiled as the crowd whistled and hollered. “I hope you fuck longer than you fight,” She said to me, and asked, “You a hitter?” “I’m farmer. As to how long I can fuck, how bad do you need to know?” I asked with a grin. “In your dreams, boyo. If you don’t get your fool self killed in a fight, I’d surely fuck you to death in a bed,” She snickered and walked out of the alley. I liked the little redhead’s spirit. I looked forward to seeing her again. ~ I paid for a week's accommodation at a nearby hotel. I shaved, trimmed my goatee, and took a long overdue bath. Got dressed in new, second hand clothes and made my way to the bar to eat. I spotted the pretty redhead laughing as she served and chatted with the men at the bar. I took a seat; Doreen spotted me in the mirror and walked slowly towards me. “You cost me a week’s worth of tips this afternoon,” She said as she poured me a whiskey. “I told you not to bet against me,” I flashed a cocky smile at her. “What’s your name?” “Gil,” I replied and placed a dollar on the bar. Doreen’s eyes shot to the door, she leaned in close and whispered, “You got company, and not the good kind.” “I’m looking for the hitter,” a woman calmly announced while her bodyguard pushed people out of her way, clearing a path for her straight to me. She was dressed like a movie star, long black dress, high heels, ...
    and a big, red silk hat. I spotted the barker from the alley following closely behind her. “I’m a farmer who got a lucky punch in, not a hitter,” I said to the bold, well dressed woman as I turned in my seat to face her. She looked me over, “I’m Isabelle. I was hoping you would be interested in joining my stable of fighters. You’d make good money,” She smiled as she spoke. “I’ll make more farming. All John L. Sullivan had when he died was fifteen dollars to his name,” I replied. I looked at her bodyguard and sized him up. He was big, wide and had a boxers face. The scar tissue around his eyes and his twisted, flat nose, left no doubt that he was a professional fighter. “Like I said, it was a lucky punch. Besides, I’m sure we can all agree that I’m much too handsome to be a hitter,” I added. The crowd laughed and Doreen wolf whistled. “Come now, don’t insult me. I’ll admit that Marco,” she turned to the boxer and placed her hand on his shoulder, “is a hitter. You do the same, and we can talk about a fight. You’ll make a lot of money.” I chuckled, “Your gorilla is pro, not a hitter.” She smirked as she replied, “I’m glad we understand each other. And, I suggest you watch what you say about Marco. He’s killed three men in the ring.” “He’s a big boy. He’s more than welcome to make the first move if he doesn’t like what I say about him,” I growled at her. Marco finally spoke, “I’m not afraid of anyone my father’s age.” The crowd laughed at Marco’s remark and started chanting his ...
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