...Lesly's wide hips and thick ass was on Macey's mind as he headed to the back of his apartment. He thought about the wild sex they would have later that night as he went into the bathroom and stripped down to his birthday suite. He gazed at his naked reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. His tatted torso told his life-story, like pyramid hieroglyphics. Ink images of guns, bullets, money, dice and tombstones cover his chest, stomach and arms, and an outline of a ski-mask spreads across his entire back. However, his baby-face belies his life- style and causes many unsuspecting victims to underestimate him, proving the old adage looks can be deceiving. His boyish- looking features is his most effective tool to gain peoples' trust...
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...Macey Briant stands 5 feet 11 inches and weighs 165 pounds. His skin is the color of coffee grinds, his eyes are the same hue as his face, and several well manicured whiskers adorn his top lip and complement the peach fuzz on his chin. People always ask if he's Indian because of his long eyelashes, bushy eyebrows, and thick coal-black curly hair. His features are an androgynous blend of his beautiful mother and handsome father. Eighteen year old Macey loves women, and his mother always warns that a female will be the death of him. He never thought of heeding to the advice because his afinity for women... Macey has his mother's strong will, but he inherited his father's attitude. Mowey is an old time gangster who ran among the elite of Coney Island's underworld in his heyday. To those who may not know, Coney Island's notorious history is masked by the bright lights of Astroland. It once was one of the nation’s poorest neighborhoods and one of the roughest sections in Brook-lyn, New York. Although 'Big Mowey' is retired he's still well respected because in his prime he was always known as a stand up guy who stacked plenty money and bodies as well. Macey is his pride and joy, and he grooms his son in his own image...
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...Macey hopped out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. He stood still, thinking he heard banging. He tiptoed barefoot to the living room and reached underneath the sofa cushion and picked up his chrome .357 revolver. He crept down the hall. The banging sound was loud and clear. Macey stood to the side of the door, aiming his gun like he intended to shoot through it. He peered down and saw a shadow under the door. He cocked the hammer back and waved a hand pass the peephole...
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