Carl's Plan (Amateur Heist: Part Two)

The bastard fell in love. So when the saleswoman mentioned she had a robotic monkey, we just had to buy it.

         But maybe I should start where I left off.

         All of the women were lounging around in their underwear. Isn’t that where I left off? Doesn’t matter, you should always start with women in underwear.

Walking through the halls, sitting on the pillows, sleeping on the tall stilted bed in the main room. I never realized things like this happened in reality, and not just movies. But there they were, right out of some middle-aged male fantasy, these sexy beautiful women were walking around in sheer, lace, and satin, beckoning us inside. Women or men, they wanted anyone as long as they had those attractive fat wallets.

We had our game faces on though. We had to maintain our composure no matter what holes our dicks got into.

We all separated into different rooms, specifying that we wanted the ladies’ personal rooms. As if that helped get us off or something.

When I found my way to the bedroom with olive skinned beauty I was offered, I wasted no time in sending her into an ether-laden slumber. The guys would probably spend some time getting laid first, but I had tits of my own to play with. I scoured the space. Jewelry boxes in the closet, a money tin under the bed, a fat money clip inside a fake spray-tan bottle. A Hundred Years of Solitude resting in her bedside table’s drawer. I looked over at her limp frame on the bed, her breasts still perky under the lavender bra. I left the book for her. Gotta respect a chick with boobs and smarts.

The bathroom earned me a few pairs of earrings and a wicked pair of heels that had no benefit to our plan except to make later bedroom antics with Jake more enjoyable. I jumped on the bed and took a moment to watch her breasts jiggle while I employed one of her satin pillowcases for my spoils.

         I opened the door to the hallway and nearly walked right into a man. He looked at me, then in the room at the woman immobilized on the bed.
         “I’m just that good, what can I say?”

         He eyed my pillowcase and furled his eyebrows. Too late. I kicked him hard, jumped up and wrapped my arm around his neck. I let his own weight bring him down into a bathroom. We landed hard on the tile floor. He flipped over and I lost my grip. I punched him, twice. He pushed me aside, nearly rising, but I jumped onto his back, regained my grip on his neck and choked him until he dropped, lifeless.

         “Son of a bitch!”

         I kicked him away from me, grabbed my pillowcase, and slammed the door closed.

         In the front room, with the stilted bed, I found three ladies splayed on the bed and floor, moaning lightly.

         “Gassed ‘em, but it’s wearing off,” said Trent from under the bed somewhere He rose with a nice wooden jewelry box in tow.

         I snapped the necklaces and bracelets from the smooth-skinned beauties and felt around under their pillows. There was a velour bag under one pillow with a shiny stone inside that had hopeful words etched into it. The dark-skinned girl lying paralyzed on the pillow looked up at me, desperate.

         “Don’t worry, you can keep your rock.”  As if that’s what she really wanted.

         Jack emerged from the back bedroom, buttoning his pants and hiking two pillowcases onto his back, a cigarette already pressed between his lips.

         The bathroom door swung open next to him and the man I’d choked earlier tumbled out.  

         “What the fuck?” Jack swung at him, knocking him back into the bathroom, “Who the fuck is this guy?”

         “The owner I think,” I said pulling rings from slender fingers.

         Jack pulled out an ether rag and disappeared into the bathroom.

         “Oh fuck. He had a phone guys, he called the cops. Let’s get out of here.”

         Jack ran down the hall banging on the doors and opening them.

         “Carl, put your dick away, we gotta run. Dave, Nicky, Red, let’s go!”

         The gang sprinted to the front.

         A blanket-clad woman ran to the hallway, “Nicky, wait!”

         But we were already out the door.

         Oh, the robot monkey thing? You’re still on that? Well, let’s just say that’s what happens when you spend too much time talking to your hookers.