Memoirs of a Creole Crime Cartel

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Memoirs of a Creole Crime Cartel Page 27

by Red Snapper


  I knew I had to be presentable since I would be going into the lion’s den, or snake pit...either was appropriate when talking about him. I made sure I had the right clothes for this occasion.

  As I prepared for this to go down, I knew I had to be the one to do this. I couldn’t use any of the Guild members or LaVette for this because in order for the Don to trust me I had to fuck him myself. I had to come to grips with this because I hated this bastard but it was that or lose everything.

  I put on a long sheer lavender gown with a matching thong and a pair of lavender wrap up stilettos with knot details in front with 4 1/2 inch heels, which gave my legs that sexy definition. As I finished dressing one of the receptionists called my cell phone. As it rang I knew they were informing me that the Don was here. I answered, “Yes…this is me!”

  “Lady Mistress…your guest has arrived.” “Do you wish for me to send him up to your chambers?”

  “Yes have him escorted to the chambers…and keep a close watch of his every move.”

  Just as I hung up my phone my Consigliere called my phone.

  “Hello…Lady Mistress…we have everything in place!” “All you have to do is say the word and we’ll take him out!”

  “Good…just give me a chance to make this work.” “I’ll let you know if I can’t persuade him.”

  I hung up the phone as a knock was at my door. I quickly sat down on the couch as I said, “Come in!”

  The Don slowly strolled into the room as I stood up and greeted him. He was a tall, dry man from the old country. He was born and raised in Italy, and believed in the principles of his home country. At fifteen, he traveled over to the United States on his own dime, and started working little odd jobs around town and saved up enough money to open his own butcher shop. He would cheat men at the stock yards out of fresh beef, to get a leg up on the competition. Over the years he made a name for himself. Not necessarily a good one, but a name nonetheless. He met his wife, Marianna, at a local dance one night and the two became inseparable. They ended up having five children, while the Don’s business grew from a smelly butcher shop, to his first restaurant, which was funded by crooked cops who came to conduct business with drug and weapons runners. The Don would turn a blind eye, and in return favor they would give him money and turn their heads away from his illegal numbers business. It was a perfect arrangement that worked well over the years.

  In the last twenty years, he had started another restaurant and opened a club uptown. All three investments were flourishing and he was in business with three foreign companies which he worked with to supply weapons. He had more than quadrupled his income with this business venue. In this city, you knew to do any 'business' you had to go through Don Costantino who was never an overly flashy guy, but he did dress in the nicest Armani suits and had a hot new thing on his arm every other night. Although, he knew to women his looks were a bonus. He figured he wasn't the most handsome man in the world, but many women thought he was pretty close, due to the light olive tan he inherited, along with his blue eyes and contrasting jet black hair, which together seemed to turn women on. He never had to chase women. They were always there...and always willing.

  I gazed at him as I said, “Well Don Costantino…you’re looking quite ravishing tonight.”

  He smiled as he replied, “And you young lady…you’re always looking good enough to eat!”

  “Well then let me get you something to drink…what would you like?”

  “I’d like some Moét please.”

  I looked at him as I said, “Nice choice,” pouring the drink and adding something to spice it up.

  I brought him the drink and then I sat down on the couch while he sat on the love seat. I could tell he was nervous because he couldn’t stop tapping his feet. I smiled as I asked, “Are you okay Don?” “Would you like to remove your jacket?”

  He shook his head in the affirmative as he took it off and laid it across the love seat.

  He kept looking at my sexy curvy legs as I ensured that were in direct view for him to see. After about ten minutes I could tell that the drug was taking effect because he was now unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Damn…it’s a little hot in here isn’t it?”

  “Yeah…that’s because you’re just a hot sexy man!”

  With that, I sauntered over to him and slowly knelt at his feet, unzipped his trousers with my caramel fingers gripping and gently tugging on his white, semi-erect shaft. My face radiated the heat of my lust that had been fueled and stoked by the blowjob I begin to give him. It didn’t take him long before he shot his load on my lips and on my chin. He smiled with the satisfied grin of a man who has just shot a load of semen on a beautiful woman's face. I still wore my tight, silky gown and heels. His shirt hung open and his pants were down around his ankles.

  After taking a few deep breaths to semi-compose himself he instructed me to remove his shoes and pants. The hand that had been resting on his thigh, the fingers lightly scratching at his flesh, slid down to do as he said. He then leaned forward and grabbed my bicep. Standing up himself he pulled me with him. The action nearly made me loosen the grip I had on his dick and I whimpered softly as I grabbed it tighter to avoid this.

  For a minute we stood in the room with me pulling at his dick, squeezing it. At the front of my dress my nipples were plainly visible, the hard nubs pushing forcefully at the dress I wore. I was panting through open lips, my eyes crawling across his body and staring at the dick I held.

  For a white boy his dick was quite the packet as he began to play this slave/master game with me. This shit must have turned him on and I must admit I was getting to it myself.

  “Alright slave,” he said, “now take my shirt off.”

  “Now it’s your turn,” When I reached to do this with only my one hand, not wanting to release my grasp of his dick with the other, he stopped me.

  “Both hands, my Nubian slave,” he ordered.

  “Mmmmm,” I whimpered as I obediently let go my grip on his dick.

  I pulled his shirt down off his shoulders and added it to the pile of clothes on the floor. My hand quickly moved to reattach itself to his dick but he stopped me again. Placing his hands on my shoulders he pushed me back a step.

  He said. “Take off your dress and show your master your body.”

  While sucking his dick and being talked to my lust had reached a plateau, bringing with it the manifestation of an orgasm within my loins. Now, with his newest orders that orgasm hung within recognition it wavered inside of my lust filled loins and breathed hot fire across my desire tingling nerves. My body quivered slightly as I looked in his eyes and reached behind myself for the dress' zipper. I pulled this down then allowed the straps to slip from my shoulders. For just a second, I held the garment up with my hands at the front then slowly pulled it down, allowing it to fall from my body into a pile around my feet.

  “Ooohhhh,” he whispered appreciatively as he drooled over my sexy physique.

  He had already been certain I wasn't wearing a bra and now he had proof. My tits stood out firm and developed with dark, hard areolas topped by swollen nipples. Rising up in a vee from my crotch to cross high on my hips was a skimpy, lavender thong. As I stood there he could see a dark spot toward the front of them where my juices had flowed from my pussy.

  He looked at me with a sensuous expression as he commanded, “Shoes Off.”

  I lifted my feet from within the ring of my dress and kicked it aside then, raising one foot at a time, I slipped my heels off, tossing them aside as well.

  “Oohhh yes,” he sighed, stepping toward me.

  While I casted my eyes floorward he covered my tits with his hands, cupping them and gently squeezing their dark, pliant flesh. His thumbs slid across my hard nipples, stroking them with light pressure.

  “Ooooohhhhhhhhh,” my breath caught in my throat.

  “What a lovely little slave girl you are,” he grinned.

  He remained standing there cupping and squeezing m
y breasts for several minutes, his fingers massaging the soft flesh, his thumbs stroking my swollen areolas and nipples.

  I reached out to grasp at his cock, my fingers pulling on the fleshy pole as blood flowed to it.

  One of his hands released my tit and slid down across my abdomen, delicately trailing along her flesh to dip down toward her crotch and across the top of her panties where they played lightly. I felt the orgasm inside me lean forward with hungry anticipation, felt it stretching out to explode with the touch of his hand. It lingered so tantalizingly close, my juices flowing freer.

  “Oooohhhhhhh,” my breath caught in my throat, my hips jerking forward slightly.

  I kept my face turned to the side slightly, my eyes rolling to the corners to stare at the dick I was holding, stroking. He massaged one tit and played at the top of my thong, his fingers occasionally dipping down toward my pussy, toward my throbbing clit but never actually reaching either. My chest rose and fell heavily as my breathing grew more and more shallow, my lust building inside my loins. My juices flowed more too, the dark patch on my thong growing as I became wetter and wetter from his attentions. Each time his fingers dipped down toward my cunt my hips jerked and my breath would catch.

  When he dropped his hands to his sides all I could do was whimpered from the loss of his touch. My head turned to look at him, my eyes almost pleading with him to replace his hands upon my body as he commanded, “Get on the bed, Slave!”

  I was a little surprised that I was into what he was doing to me. Although I wanted his hands back on me and I had to release his dick in order to do as he said, I knew what it meant. I knew I had to keep playing along to get what I wanted and that was to keep our assets.

  With a last tug on his dick I let go and moved toward the bed. Climbing onto it I rolled onto my back and looked at him questioningly. My breasts rolled and swayed with my movements, my hard nipples poking skyward in their aching firmness. Reflexively my legs spread themselves, my knees bending slightly. The wet patch on my thong was plainly evident now as was the outline of my swollen labia beneath the lacy material. He stood beside the bed staring down at me, devouring me with his eyes. Instinctively my hands came up to my breasts. I filled my fingers with my own dark, fleshy mounds and rolled my swollen nipples between my fingers.

  “That’s good.” “That's a real good little slave girl,” he commented appreciatively as he continued to watch me massage and play with my own tits my eyes slowly closed and my head rolled to one side.

  My mouth hung open and small, soft gasps of pleasure came from between my lips.

  “Yes, show me what a good little slave girl you are,” he told me. “Show me what a black slut you are.”

  This kind of pissed me off a little but I had to continue the game as I responded, “Mmmmm, I moaned as my hands were growing heavier on my tits.”

  He climbed onto the bed then as he continued to tell me to show him what a dirty Black slut and horny little slave I was. He quickly moved next to me on the bed and immediately I felt his fingers grab the sides of her thong. I raised my ass to help him as he pulled the flimsy garment down my legs. When it was past my feet and tossed aside I automatically spread my legs again, giving him his first fully unobstructed view of my heated pussy.

  “Oohhh yes,” he sighed hungrily as he just gazed at my sweet punany.

  I was extremely wet, my juices having flowed freely to coat my flesh around her pussy. My labia were swollen, puffing out and spreading themselves slightly to show my rich, caramel cuntal walls and opening. Atop this my clit stood out swollen and almost throbbing as the air that now freely circulated across my aching cunt caused me to whimper and moan while my fingers pulled at my swollen nipples and my hands squeezed hungrily at my tits.

  He looked at me as he said, “You are a horny little slave, aren't you?” He sighed as he moved between my spread legs.

  “A hot little black bitch huh,” he whispered.

  I didn’t really like him calling me a bitch, but I had to remember my reasons for doing this muthafucka. I had to keep in mind the big picture as I was also thankful for my experience as a call girl. It was really fucked up fuckin’ somebody you didn’t like, especially this Sicilian bastard.

  “Mmmmmmmmmmmm,” I whimpered as I allow him to get between my legs.

  Kneeling between my legs, looking up along my body to where my hands were greedily squeezing my tits and my face was an expression of lust; he laid his hands on the inside of my knees. He then slowly slid them down along my inner thighs, caressing my flesh as he gradually brought his hands closer and closer to my wet cunt. As we made this progress my breathing grew even heavier and my hips rolled upon the bed, my ass rising slightly in a hungry attempt to make contact sooner.

  My body was in lusty turmoil with my orgasm teetering on the brink of release within me. It boiled with the heat of my loins, ached with my hunger to be fucked, to feel his stiff dick plummet inside my pussy. A seething fire seared at my insides as hot electrical shocks tingled and raced along my nerves. Upon my chest my hands cupped and squeezed my aching breasts and I flattened my swollen nipples beneath my own palms.

  The Don’s hands reached the area where my legs and my crotch met and slipped closer to my sweaty hot box making my hips rolled and my ass rose up. The orgasm teetering on the brink within my loins screamed to be released, begged and pleaded for its explosive escape. The feel of his hands, the heat of them now so near my aching pussy teased my climax, urged it nearer the brink. Then his hands slid up along the outsides of my pussy to caress my flesh above my pussy.

  “Ooooohhhhhhhh,” I moaned as he continued to tease me.

  His hands continued to travel over my flesh, his fingers leaving burning trails along their path. Up and around my swollen pussy they slid, then back down along the outer fringes of my swollen labia. They rolled and tickled my entire pelvic region, stroking out toward my hips then back in and down along my labia. My ass rose higher as my hips rolled this way and that in their attempt to make him touch me, to make him touch my wet, aching pussy.

  “Do you like to have your pussy eaten, slave,” he asked as his fingers trailed up alongside my pussy lips.

  I laughed as I answered, “Hell yeah…but the question is do you know what to do?”

  “Sure I do…if you’ll let me show you!” “I wanna eat you…I wanna eat my slave girl’s wet little pussy.”

  When he said that, I knew it was time for me to take control of the situation. So I position myself so I was hung a few inches above the bed, my hips rolling slightly as my pussy gleamed with the wetness seeping from it, my caramel cuntal opening clearly visible due to the level of my passion and the position of my body. His hands slipped down along the joining of my legs to my crotch, his thumbs slipping beneath me, and his face dropped into my crotch. His breath brushed across my pussy lips, his tongue slid up along my slit to press against my clit.

  After about ten minutes I felt my orgasm building as I felt a tingling sensation throughout my mid-section, suddenly I exploded with tidal waves of passion crashing through my body smashing and quaking my nerves with massive force as this muthafucka I hated made me cum. My hips bucked upward, slamming my pussy into his face, my clit against his lapping tongue. My hands fell from my tits to grab at the bedspread, pulling on it at the end of my outstretched arms. My back rose from the bed, arching as my head rolled back atop my neck. My mouth fell open wide and I moaned loudly between gasping breaths.

  “Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhh! Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhh! Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Riding my bucking, jerking hips with his face he planted his tongue atop my clit and lapped at it several, several times. He slipped the hard nub into his mouth and sucked then gently nipped it with his teeth before lapping at it some more. As my hips jerked to one side he lost contact for a second but quickly regained it while slipping his arms down and around my legs.

  I was trippin’ now as this hateful bastard was creating wave after wave of orgasmic explosions which ro
cked through my body. My flesh quivered, my nerves jerked as I tried to control my panting and moaning. I continued to pull harder at the bedspread as my back arched higher and my muscles tensed.

  “Stay focused…stay focused…don’t let this good feeling over power you…you’ve got to stay to the plan,” I told myself.

  He lapped and lapped at my clit, slid his tongue down along my slit and back up, pressed at my opening and stroked its walls.

  I felt like I was slipping as I began to moan, “Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Gooooooooooooodddd!” “Eat my pussy, master! Eat your slave's pussy!”

  My words fueled the hunger he was feeling as he drove his tongue crazily around my pussy. Sucking my clit into his mouth he nipped it again then brushed his tongue across it before nipping it once more. He swiped his tongue up and down my slit fast and hard, slithering it across my clit.

  Chapter 21– Tangie

  August 2002

  Guild Manor

  Olathe, Kansas

  In response my orgasm exploded with renewed energy. Thunderbolts of lust slammed along my nerves. Blinding explosions filled my mind as my body twisted, convulsed and jerked upon the bed. My hips humped my pussy at his face. Although he was serving me with expert precision I knew I had to keep my composure. I continued on my Oscar winning performance as I began to moan again, “Ooohhhh Gawd. Ooohhhh Gawd…eat me master…eat your slave girl’s black pussy.” “Eat it, eat it. Eat it, master.” “Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

 

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