Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica)

by Victoria Blisse

  I had daddy issues, I knew that. I’d had enough therapy before mom gave up on me to know that I was a selfish bitch who needed to prove to the world that she was desirable. For the most part it was fun. I had a tiny waist, curvy hips, perky tits and full pouty lips. I was always glamorous, my style icons were the beautiful women of 1950s Hollywood and I was flawless, designed to be desired. Take a girl away from her daddy in her formative years and you can sit back and watch the neuroses, watch her suffer, watch her have sexual issues that would tear her life apart. I had a destructive streak and I indulged it on a regular basis with boys that were darker than my jet black heart.

  I looked out across the beautiful multi-coloured skyline of Vegas and breathed in the thick desert air. I could smell the cactus flowers, the smoke, and the cheap perfume of the Vegas brides as they giggled and staggered their way into the plastic chapels.

  I took a drag on my cigarette, suddenly aware that Mickey was standing just behind me. I could feel his heat even in the sticky closeness of the desert night. He radiated badness, a sultry evil that filled my nostrils and made my pussy wet for him.

  We didn’t speak. I acknowledged him with a flick of my tongue over my bottom lip and his fingers curled over my hip bone drawing me closer to him. His expensive suit rubbed against the thin silk of my dress, lifting it over my thighs as he dry humped my ass. I carried on smoking my Marlboro as though he meant nothing to me but inside my heart was pounding, my stomach flipping, filled with butterflies. I thought that maybe I loved him and as his lips whispered over the nape of my neck I imagined how we would be if we were together. I knew inside that it was stupid, that I couldn’t love anyone and that Luca would kill us both, but it was exciting, new and I craved the way he held me. Like I was his possession. I want him to possess me.

  We’d have to run; Luca would never let either of us live. It would tear him apart to kill me but I knew that he would do it. It would be impossible for him to keep the respect of the boys if he didn’t. I would be a scarlet woman, crazy, disrespectful to the man who adored me. I was a wicked, wicked girl and I knew it but I sighed, pressing my ass back against Mickey’s insistent hard on. He wanted me and that was all that mattered. I didn’t even need to see it through to the end. I just wanted the validation that his adoration gave me. Mickey wanted to see it through. We had been side stepping each other for weeks since the last time and I knew I couldn’t hold him off for much longer. I was going to have to give him what I had been promising him with my body over and over since we started this thing.

  He let his tongue follow the edge of my dress, occasionally wetting the silk as though his tongue was delving between my lips. His left hand gripped my waist and his right disappeared under my suspender belt and into my soft silk panties. I gasped, my eyes closing as my knees buckled and I let his fingers go where they wanted. I wanted to check that we were alone but as he dipped between my soaking lips I realised that I didn’t care. I wanted him to want me so badly that he risked it all for me. I wanted to be his everything. It gave me a thrill that he was here with me even though my husband could have him killed if he so much as suspected that we were close.

  A tiny moan escaped from my lips and that was all he needed. He whispered my name, turning me to face him, crushing me between his hot, sweaty body and the cool metal of the door. Clever, now no one could come out and find us. I let the hard heat of his chest warm me, the soft material of his shirt rubbing against my cleavage. I let my fingers tug at his buttons, doing what I’d been thinking about doing all night. His buttons slid out of their fastening, slowly revealing his lightly tanned chest, the smattering of dark hair that covered the smooth taut skin making me catch my breath. I nuzzled against him, my lips moistening his skin as I kissed him, licked him, nipping at his flesh.

  “Mickey,” I breathed but he put his finger to my lips quietening me. I wanted to scream, to hold him to me, to fuck him loud and hard until I came all over his cock, crying out his name. I knew that I was crazy then, knew that it would never happen. A wave of sadness enveloped me briefly. He would never love me the way I wanted to be loved. Luca had made sure I was his forever and even he couldn’t make me smile inside. My heart had died a long time ago and I didn’t think that anyone could jump start that cold empty hole in my chest.

  I untucked his shirt, the buttons done and slipped my hands inside, exalting in the feel of his soft, warm flesh. I gathered him to me and our mouths meshed, his tongue filling me as tiny moans escaped. I scrabbled at his back wanting more. He growled my name and his cock thrust up against me. I had waited long enough and I needed him inside me. My panties were soaked, my pussy was aching and all I could think about was how it would feel as he fucked me against this cold, hard door. I held his gaze, our eyes locked together. His baby blues burned into my soul, hungry, accusing, desperate and I slowly unzipped his flies, my fingers sliding into his suit trousers. My breath hitched as I felt him, so hard for me.

  “I need you baby,” I murmured. “Please?”

  Mickey didn’t need to be asked twice. With a flick of his wrist my panties were gone and lifting me up with one arm he freed himself from his trousers and shorts. I felt his warm naked flesh before I saw it, pressed hard into my crotch, but then I couldn’t take my eyes off his thick shaft pressing against my wet opening. I stretched my thighs wider and he buried himself to the hilt, a guttural moan muffled by my shoulder before he thrust over and over, his hands gripping me tightly. I mewled with desire, biting his neck as his dick impaled me against the door. He took away my numbness, filled me with hope and for a moment I loved him. I gasped his name, my fingers curling against him, the pure elation of the moment making me high. I could hear the other girls inside giggling and chattering as they got ready to go on and I prayed that none of them would try to come outside for a smoke.

  The anticipation of being caught in the act heightened every nerve in my body until it was singing with desire. Every caress, every thrust made me greedy for more. I felt as though I would never have enough of Mickey Finn. The reality was that in a week or so I’d be bored and this would be over. I knew myself well enough to know that this would go the same way as all the others. I sighed as I clung to his back, feeling the strength of him as the muscles flexed beneath my fingers. He took this as encouragement and slipped his fingers down to my rub my clit as he fucked harder into me. I leaned my head back against the door and gave myself up to his relentless passion, feeling the build of my release starting in my chest and fizzing down my stomach into my pussy. I clenched around him and he growled out his need, my legs gripping his waist as I pushed up to meet every thrust. Our coupling was animalistic, urgent and passionate. I kissed him, biting his lip, moaning his name as I let him drive me towards my release. It took me without mercy and I could see stars as my body shook with the intensity of it.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Natalia,” Mickey growled as I gripped him, sucking him deep inside me and then he was done, his huge frame shaking and bucking as he lost control of himself, almost crying my name. I felt like a goddess, I was invincible. I could have any man I wanted. Then it was over and he pulled out of me his eyes darting around like a cornered animal. He’d had what he came for and he had to go before Luca started wondering where he was. A quick kiss and he disappeared, his only parting gift a promise that we would do it again, and soon.

  I leaned back against the cool wall, lighting another Marlboro, sucking greedily on the little white stick as though it would cure the dull ache in my heart. It didn’t. I was numb, disappointed and guilty. I checked the Cartier watch Luca had given me and crushed the cigarette beneath my red satin peep toe shoes. It was time to shine.

  Back at the palatial villa in the middle of the desert that I called home, I watched as Luca poured us both a drink. A straight whiskey for him and a Dirty Martini for me. He made each drink with the same slow, measured deliberateness that he employed with everything he did. It made me feel safe and scared me at the same time. It was as thoug
h he was holding himself in, as though he knew that if he didn’t take such care with his task he would hurt somebody. I’d watched him act this way before he did a hit, or before he disciplined his boys. He might be a down and dirty gangster but he had never laid a finger on me. But tonight as I watched him pour the drinks a finger of fear slid up my back. I wondered if he knew about me and Mickey.

  The glow of Vegas spilled through the darkness and into the room, the multi-coloured lights of the hotels and bars on the strip making patterns on the floor. I loved how we were so close the lights could still colour our world but far enough away to feel like we were in our own little piece of paradise.

  Then Luca turned and walked towards me, his face a big happy smile and I let out the breath that I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. He loved me still, he didn’t suspect a thing. I could put it behind me and come back to him, just like I told myself the last time. The problem was I was easily bored, easily distracted and one day it would be my downfall; just not today.

  I took the drink and sipped it gently, watching him as he sat down on the white leather sofa in the middle of the huge living room. The fan was on and a cool breeze moved through the thick desert air making my nipples stand to attention. I glided over to him, the hem of my dress dragging on the cool tiles where I’d taken off my heels the minute we got in, relieved to be free of them.

  “Natalia,” he murmured, pulling me down next to him. “You were so beautiful tonight, baby, you made me so proud.”

  I smiled up at him, my heart ready to burst with love for this big bear of a man who worshipped me despite everything that was wrong with me. “I always try to make you happy, Luca,” I said, twirling my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He turned his face to me and I kissed him, trailing tiny kisses over his nose, his top lip before planting my lips on his and letting him possess my mouth.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said after a moment, “we should buy that place, make it yours. You’re the star whenever you sing there, you should have somewhere you can showcase that gorgeous voice and body of yours whenever you want. I know it’s been your dream since you were a little girl. Let me make it come true for you, sweetheart.”

  “Buy it?” I gasped. “You’d do that for me? Oh Luca that would be wonderful.” I could barely believe what I was hearing. I’d wanted to have my own Cabaret bar and restaurant for as long as I could remember. Somewhere to pay homage to the icons of the 1950s who had brought the glamour to Vegas before it became a jaded bustle of drunks and tacky weddings. Somewhere I could design my own shows, perform as the headline act every night if I wanted. I wrapped my arms around him and curled my body against his, wanting to show him how much his gift meant to me. “Oh Luca,” I murmured, “I love you so much baby.”

  He lay back on the sofa pulling me so I was straddling him; my long red dress rucked right up around my lily white thighs, a stunning contrast in the half light of the living room. His hands were tanned, making me look even paler as he slid them slowly up towards my pussy. I spread my legs allowing him easier access to the wet musk of my core, anticipating his gentle caress. My thighs quivered as he traced higher and I threw back my head and closed my eyes. A soft sigh escaped my lips as he reached his target and his thick fingers traced a line from my mound, over my clit to the base of my soaking slit. With a tweak of his finger and thumb my panties were off, the flimsy material torn from my body, exposing the dark pink centre of my desire. I felt wanton and desperate to feel him touch me. He looked at me, his eyes drawn to the secret place he had revealed and slowly, deliberately he pushed his thick middle finger between my lips, parting them, impaling me on his meaty digit. It was exquisite watching him watch me open up for him, my pussy juice running down his finger and onto his hand. He grinned up at me, enjoying seeing me squirm as he pushed into me then gently extracted himself until only the tip was inside. I bucked against him, wanting more than he would allow. I wanted a second finger, a third; I wanted to be filled with him. He pushed back inside me, then with his other hand he slid down the straps of my dress, exposing my hard, pink nipples to the cold air from the fan. I moaned like the harlot he had turned me into and pushed the hard tip towards his lips. He indulged me, sucking me into the warm depths of his mouth and teasing it until it was so hard it was painful. All the while his finger slid in and out of my cunt, his thumb occasionally brushing the hard nub of my overly sensitive clit making me mewl with pleasure. He knew exactly how to turn me on. So much better than the hard and fast fucking of my many lovers; Luca was slow, sensual, drawing the orgasm out of me bit by bit, the final release like a tidal wave crushing me until I could barely breathe.

  A second finger joined the first and I watched as my pussy stretched to let it in. I loved to feel his eyes on me, as he watched me give myself to him. I wanted him to know that I was always his, that no one else had ever come close to making me feel the way he did. Ours eyes met and I knew that he knew how I felt. His eyes were black with desire, nothing but what was happening between us in his mind. When we fucked was the only time that he didn’t think about work, the family, the danger he was constantly in. I gave him the space to relax. His fingers pushing into me made a wet sucking noise in the quiet of the night. We held our breath listening to the sounds of our bodies, soft kisses, slurps, wet squelches. Nothing else mattered. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, tracing the scars on his chest, the markings of a hero, scars that told a story about how he had risen to where he was. Bullet holes that had pinked to tiny dents down his right hand side, a knife wound across his stomach. I knew them all, knew the story behind them as though it was my own life story. He didn’t flinch; he wore his scars like a badge of honour and his fingers searched out mine; a thin white line across my chest where my mother had tried to slit my throat and missed because she was too drunk to focus on me. He closed his eyes as he touched it, remembering the night he had nearly lost me. I took his hand and kissed each finger, pushing myself onto him to try and erase the memories.

  He gazed into my eyes and without saying anything, sucked my other nipple into his mouth. His hand gripped my ass, pulling me harder towards him. His fingers weren’t enough, I wanted to feel his dick in my mouth, wanted to make him feel as good as I did and I rose up onto my knees, letting him slide out of me. He knew what I wanted and when I slid off his lap and onto my knees on the tiles in front of him, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his flies. I pulled his trousers down and tossed them across the floor. He never wore shorts and his huge prick stood erect, sprouting from between his legs. I gripped it with my hand and put my lips to the swollen purple head, tracing my tongue across the slit, watching him writhe beneath my touch. I enveloped him with my lips, the scarlet of my lipstick smearing down the shaft, the lily white of my hands contrasting with the swarthy tanned skin of his body. We looked so beautiful together I thought as I worked my mouth up and down his cock. He tasted of sweat, his musk filling my nostrils making me moan. Tasting him turned me on; I knew that the sight of my head between his legs was his favourite thing, that he loved watching my mouth slide up and down his dick. It made him feel that I was his and his alone, that I succumbed to him, and that I was his possession.

  I opened my mouth and swallowed down as much as I could, my gag reflex tightening my throat around the thick bulbous end, making him grip my head, pulling my hair as he thrust into me.

  “Get up baby,” he growled and he pulled me to my feet, my dress pooling round my ankles as I did. I stood naked before him, my body reflected in the big windows that made the walls of the room. I could see myself hundreds of times, every way that I looked. He twirled me around, his eyes devouring me from every angle, holding my hand above me head as he spun me. I wanted to throw myself open for him, to feel his eyes on every inch of my body. Then he walked me to the fireplace and pushed me forward, putting my hands on the wall and bending me so that my ass was tipped up, exposing the soft pink of my pussy to him. I spread my legs. My cunt glistened in the glow of the si
de lamps on the table beside us and he knelt between them. His tongue was hot as it delved between my lips, pushing its way into my tight channel. I moaned, my hands gripping the ornate carving of the fireplace, squealing as his tongue found my clit and bathed it in hot saliva, lapping at me until I was crying with the need to come. Then he stood, his fingers opening me as the thick head of his cock probed my soaking folds. He eased it into me, his fingers helping, his thumb never leaving my clit, drawing my juices out to aid the passage of his dick with as much lubrication as possible. He was so big I felt like he would split me in two, but as he slipped inside me inch by inch the pain gave way to pleasure as he stretched me and filled me. His cock rubbed exquisitely against my g-spot, massaging me to a sudden and intense orgasm which shook my body and made me cry out. He held my hips as I shuddered before him, riding the pulsing of my pussy, holding himself until I was spent. Then he gripped me tight and fucked me hard, relentlessly filling me, flesh slapping against flesh, my pussy open wide to let him in, my body a toy in his hands, pushed this way and that as he took his pleasure, until I came again, his finger on my clit. Then with a guttural moan he thrust hard into me one last time and unloaded his cock inside me, the thick spurt of come filling me, oozing out and dripping down my leg, his dick so big there was nowhere else for it to go. I leaned against the fireplace, weak and used, completely possessed and he pulled slowly out, picking me up and carrying me to our bed. I curled around him in the darkness and whispered how much I loved him. He told me he loved me too. I closed my eyes and dreamed of staying this happy forever. I wanted to be this way always.