Short Con

John and Lenny had been running cons for over a decade now. John, a slight, handsome guy in his early thirties, was the brains of the operation. Lenny, tall, brauny and middle-aged, was the muscle. Recently, they had attempted the biggest con of their joint career. They had tried to sell a stadium they didn't own to a Chinese businessman who had wised up at the last minute. They'd been lucky to escape with their lives, let alone their liberty. Having fled to Boston, they were safe, but on their asses. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs. They were staying with an old friend of Johns. Lenny had no idea how John had this many friends, but there was always someone there to help at the last minute. This wasn't the first time they'd been on their asses.

"We'll have to go back to short cons bud" John said on their first morning in Boston. "Why?" was the immediate response from Lenny, who was what John called "a sandwich short of a picnic".

"Because we need to play it safe for a bit, and we need cash. Fast." John explained, a little less patiently than usual. "I think we'll start with ol' reliable", he continued. Lenny nodded, he knew exactly the con John was referring to. It had never failed, but it had a relatively low return, and every time they embarked on it John said, "I'm not sure where we stand morally on this one buddy".

Ol' reliable went like this. John would rent a room in a relatively cheap hotel, leaving Lenny in the lobby. He would then, dressed smart-casual (in clothes Lenny noticed he wouldn't usually wear), visit several bars and inevitably return, around an hour later, with a man. Lenny could never work out how John managed to find the right kind of man every time but John said he had a nose for it, in the right bar.

Tonight, their mark was a little younger than usual. He looked like a lawyer or a banker or something, in his navy blue suit and slicked back, jet black hair. John and the mark passed Lenny in the lobby and John gave Lenny a wink. Lenny let half an hour pass, and as according to the plan, he made his way up to the room. Lenny readied himself outside room 45, and burst through the door. As usual, the mark didn't have many clothes on. He was on the bed, on his hands and knees, his hairy white ass glistening in the air, knees together, waiting for John to return from the bathroom. Through all the years of doing this con, Lenny had never understood how a guy could possibly get a kick out of another guy shoving his dick up their ass, but there you go, this particular guy, like the numerous marks before him, obviously did.

When the mark saw Lenny, his previously flushed face went white as a sheet, and he clambered to his feet stuttering "who are - what do -". As was scripted, Lenny let out an angry roar, and shouted "Drew! Not again! How could you?". By this point, the mark had retreated into the corner of the room and was trying, and failing to cover his modesty with cupped hands. Lenny guessed the mark had been pretty excited because his prick was still rock hard and pointing toward the artex ceiling. John then came running out of the bathroom, shirtless, shouting "Oh baby, it's not what it looks like, it's not what it looks like!". Lenny pushed John on to the bed and replied "My ass it isn't what it looks like, you've betrayed me again", he cried dramatically, glaring at John, "so what did you do with this one? Eh?" he demanded.

"Nothing, nothing at all babe, honestly" John replied standing up and putting his shirt on. The mark, still cowering in the corner, mumbled in agreement. "You expect me to believe that?" retorted Lenny, "I come into our room and find some dude in here waiting for you to fuck his sissy ass, and it it's nothing? I can't imagine what it'd look like if something was happening Drew! I suppose you could be balls deep in the guy and it'd be nothing!". Lenny then pushed past a protesting John and picked up the mark's pants, which were inside out on the floor. He then took the wallet from the back pocket of the pants.

"And who have we here?", Lenny said, as scripted, rifling through the wallet. "William Pritchard...of Boston, Massachussetts" he read from the drivers licence. The mark nodded. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know  - I -". Lenny had picked a photograph out of the back of the wallet. It depicted a woman in a pink dress, and two young children. "Just like last time" said Lenny under his breath, just as he'd practiced a thousand times. "He has a wife and kids. How would your family feel about you being here with my boyfriend, eh Will?" he asked threateningly. The mark stepped forward, forgetting about his modesty and tried to snatch the wallet back from Lenny, who held it high above his head, out of the mark's reach. "Jackie and the girls, they won't understand" pleaded the mark. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" yelled Lenny, "how about I call the emergency contact on the back of this licence?". The mark backed off, hands in the air. Lenny noticed his little prick had gone soft now he was scared, and felt quite sorry for the guy. "Please -" he begged, his throat catching.

"Tell you what Will" said Lenny, again, just as practiced, "how about you go down to the ATM down the street, withdraw $1,000 and bring it to me, and I'll forget about the whole thing - you can be on your way, with your wallet".

"I don't have that kind of -"

"Well then I'll be giving Jackie a call won't I". The mark turned to John. "Please, Jackie won't understand"

"DON'T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT HIM!" Lenny yelled at the mark.

"It's the only way Will, I'm sorry baby" said John from the bed.

"OK, I'll just tell Jacks I gambled it away" the mark said, more to himself than anyone else. He picked up his underwear, red briefs, and pulled them on. Lenny tossed the blue pants at the mark, then dropped an American Express card at his feet. The mark put his shirt and shoes on, not bothering with socks or a tie.

When the mark returned, he handed Lenny a wad of crisp bills, which he counted and shoved in the back pocket of his jeans. He handed the mark his wallet, which he checked, and shoved in his own back pocket, looking very humiliated. He then made a brisk exit, taking a final look at John and uttering "pretty expensive blow job". John went red. Lenny didn't seem to notice.