Shot In the Head

The gangster fucked up, and he knows what is to come of it. There is no room for failure in their organization. He was spotted by the police and now he must be killed so the crime does not trace him back to the gang. He walked into the boss's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He opened the door and entered with his head bowed, then took out his gun and presented it with his palms up. The boss stood from his desk and stared at his subordinate.

"You were spotted?" He asked.

The man simply nodded.

"Damn. You were a good one, Mr. Kelly. This will be a heavy loss." He walked around the desk and stood before his subordinate. Mr. Kelly held out the gun and the boss took it. ":Go sit on the couch," he said with a heavy sigh.

The man did. He wasn't nervous. He leaned back, draping his arm over the back of the couch and spread his knees in a relaxed position. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes breathing calmly, awaiting death.

"Loyal to the end," the boss said. He checked the casing and caressed the chosen bullet, rubbing it with his thumb. He prepared the gun and approached his charge. He pressed the barrel into the man's chest, and with his other hand, stroked the man's exposed throat. The victim's breathing immediately quickened.

"Do you have any final requests?"

"No Sir, you may kill me at your lesure."

The boss began to feel regret. "This will be a heavy loss for us. Perhaps we can find a way to save you."

"No, Boss. I would not get special treatment. I must be held to the same standards as the rest of the gang." He looked his boss in the eye. His chest was heaving. "I must be dealt with accordingly."

The boss could feel his hot pulse through his palm. The victim looked down at his own gun pressed against him and felt a spike of adrenaline. His penis twitched involuntarily. He wrapped his hand over his executioner's hand on the gun and coaxed the gun down his torso in a sensual way. He bucked his hips once.

"You may kill me... at your leasure," he breathed.

The boss bit his lip. Torn between wanting to save one of his best men, and wanting to give in to the heat of the moment. He straddled the man, sitting on one thigh, and leaned close against him. He rubbed his knee into his crotch a few times, then brought the gun down to crotch level. He caressed the barrel against his victim's growing bulge. Kelly moaned. He clutched his boss' lapels.

Then the executioner trailed the barrel back up, slowly to the man's throat, then face, and coaxed it into the victim's mouth.

Kelly licked around the barrel of his own gun and moaned again. He was leaking pre-cum.

"Are you ready?" His boss said breathlessly, grinding into him. Kelly could only moan. His eyebrows creased with pleasure. He clutched his killer's clothing like a lifeline.

The safety unclicked.

They ground into each other. The boss felt his man breathless with anticipation and grinding into him desperately. Kelly didn't want to die before he came. His executioner guessed this and teased him with it.

"I'm going to do it now. Three... two..."

Kelly ground into him frantically. Then the executioner felt against his leg the wetness and erratic convulsions of an orgasm. Then he heard Kelly whining desperately, breathy in his ear. He pulled the trigger. The shot fired and the man convulsed. He pulled away to watch the death throws. The stain at his victim's crotch grew steadily larger as his body twitched involuntarily and blood ran down his neck.

The boss' chest heaved with arousal and he grabbed his own crotch to watch the show. Amazing how one could be aroused by one's own death. More amazing still that Kelly was able to have an incredible orgasm over his death throws.