Chinaman's Chance - Sex Stories

Chinaman's Chance

... sick about me. Nothing had been planned for tonight save for the scheduled meeting with Tom. I wished I had something for the pain. It was going to be a long and slow walk home. I arranged a meeting with Bobby for two days later, reminded him to dismantle the tripwire and left him to his tasks which included getting news about Tom Logan. I had barely walked two blocks when two pairs of hands grabbed my arms and found myself propelled forward between two Chinese men. "We have been looking for you," one of them said in English. I tried wrenching my arm free so I could draw my gun, but they were too strong. I was helpless unless I could break their hold and draw my gun. Trying to scream would only get me gagged. Darn it! Why did everything have to happen to me? A man in the shadows stepped in front of us and blocked the way. "What are you Chinese doing in this neighborhood?" he demanded. "This Chinese girl is a runaway and we are merely returning her to her master," said the spokesman. "We are leaving now." "Then be off with you," the shadowy man replied. Shit! I couldn't see his face, but I knew that voice. "No man is my master and I'm as Irish as you, Brian O'Hara," I yelled. "Help me!" "Curly?" The huge man didn't wait for a reply. He roared in anger and grabbed the men, one in each hand. I heard a loud clonk as two skulls made contact and both men slumped to the ground. My captors might have had a chance of escaping or defending themselves except they were unwilling to let ...

... go of me. Well, tough shit for them. "I might have hit them too hard," Brian muttered as he dragged the bodies further into the darkness. I sure hoped so, I thought as I followed him. "Thank you, my hero." "You're welcome. Say, did that Chinaman say you're a lass?" "I confess. I'm a lass, not a lad." I bent down and felt for pulses. The two men were still breathing. Not for long. I drew my knife and slit their throats, unnoticed by my rescuer. Two fewer thugs looking for me. I was becoming quite the killer. The body count was climbing. "Well, I'll be damned," Brian responded. "I thought you were a bit pretty for a lad and I got to be worrying about myself. 'Brian,' I said to myself, 'it's a desperate man that's attracted to a lad. It's time you found yourself a woman to marry even if you have to go back to Ireland to find her'." "You don't have to return to Ireland to find your woman to marry. She's right here in San Francisco and you have already met her. She likes you a lot, too." "And who might that be?" "Emma Crabtree." "Emma Crabtree likes me?" "She does indeed," I responded. "Of course, you would have to prove your worth to her or she would definitely change her mind. Since she's a widow, you already know she is no blushing virgin. But Emma Crabtree is smart and attractive with a heart of pure gold. I sincerely doubt if you could marry a better woman than Emma and more likely you would marry a worse one, Brian O'Hara." Brian didn't respond to that, but I know I'd gotten ...