Joe continued nodding as Ox went on, ‘But Jesus, I can’t get her outta my mind. You the same?’
‘Yep.’ Joe reached for his drink.
‘We can both meet this other guy, Al “The Thrill” after he sees Lucy. We can meet him here, if it’s all right with you.’
‘Sure. What about the other two?’
‘One’s a goofball and the other’s a gimp. Long shots at best.’ Ox shrugged.
‘A gimp?’
‘He’s lame and ugly. Not a pretty boy like us.’ A smile now, followed by another serious look. ‘We have to make sure this doesn’t become a problem.’
‘You’re right. It could be a real problem.’
‘Fuckin A’.’
The following stare wasn’t menacing. Not exactly.
Chapter 7
I Could Take Off The Skirt, If You’d Prefer
LUCY LED THE WAY up the steep, narrow staircase along the east wall of Fort Morgan with Ox trailing her and the state park guide right behind. She knew they could both see up her light-weight pink skirt which the light gulf breeze easily lifted. She wore skimpy pale-blue panties on purpose and glanced down at the men as she reached the top of the stairs, both sets of eyes were focused on her ass.
Ox wore a white dress shirt with black shorts that had been starched and white tennis shoes, no socks. The park guide, in khakis, had skin a shade darker than khaki, and stood the same height as Ox, thinner of course and looked in his 30s. She stood above them with her feet parted so they could see her crotch now. Both looked up as their heads reached the staircase.
‘They designed the stairs to be narrow,’ explained the guide, ‘in case the fort was stormed so the enemy couldn’t go down the stairs en masse.’ It was then Lucy noticed the guard’s name tag read: Sims. She followed him to the railing where he explained the glacis, the earthen hills built between the brick walls to protect them from direct cannon fire. He pointed out the bastions and the cannon mounts.
‘It was a Confederate fort, right?’ Lucy asked.
‘Built before but built-up by the rebels. It fell in 1864 when Admiral Farragut came a-visiting.’ Sims turned to Ox to include him in the conversation. ‘Ever hear the quote, “damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead”?’
Ox shrugged. Lucy had heard it, but didn’t know the significance. As the freshening breeze lifted her skirt almost to her waist, she ignored it, but felt that tingle again. Sims didn’t ignore it and neither did Ox, who just shook his head.
Sims went on to describe the Battle of Mobile Bay, how Farragut brought fourteen wooden ships and four ironclad monitors into the bay through a maze of underwater torpedoes. When the lead monitor, USS Tecumseh, struck a mine and went down, Farragut gave his famous order. The Yankees made it into the harbour and forced the Confederate ships to surrender. Although the city wasn’t taken, Fort Morgan was and Mobile Bay was closed to rebel blockade runners.
Lucy took Ox’s hand as they moved along the parapet. Sims added, ‘Farragut was the same guy who captured New Orleans? Yes, ma’am. Helluva sailor.’
Ox remained mute as the personal tour continued. Lucy hadn’t asked for the personal tour. Her sheer panties were her invitation and Sims stuck close for their entire visit, Ox was in a state of confusion. The only time he’d spoken at the fort was when they arrived and he’d whispered to her, asking why she bothered wearing that fly-away skirt at all, staring at Sims who’d hawked her out as she came in.
‘I could take off the skirt if you’d prefer. But there are families here.’
She had Ox befuddled since they’d arrived at the beach house. She’d led him up to her bedroom, pulled his swollen cock from his pants and went down on it. He’d tried to get her to slow down so he could ‘give her a good fucking’ but she worked her mouth up and down his cock, tongue rubbing it, sucking until he gave up and came in her mouth, calling her a fuckin’ whore, a little cocksucking slut.
He seemed surprised she swallowed and chided her after. ‘I wanted to give it to you, get that pussy working.’
‘We’ll have time for that.’ What she didn’t tell him was she’d wanted to take the edge off this horny ox, let him spurt out what he’d been saving up and go from there. She had her way of course and after a good tooth-brushing, curled in his arms on her bed for a little nap before lunchtime.
As they thanked Sims, he pulled out two invitations and handed them to Lucy. ‘There’s a fête here at Fort Morgan in two weeks. Hope y’all can come. Dress is semi-formal and the state puts out a nice spread. Invitation only. We get to give some out to good people like y’all.’
Lucy thanked him again and as she walked away, the breeze lifted her skirt for a good five seconds so her ass could give Sims a nice goodbye.
Earl was waiting for them by the SUV. Lucy squeezed Ox’s hand. ‘You upset because my skirt kept flying up.’
‘No. I’m just out of sorts, I guess. If you don’t mind, I don’t.’
‘If your wife pulled something like this, how would you handle it?’
Ox gave her a long look in the eye, smiled slightly and said, ‘It’s your ass. You wanna show it, we’ll all look.’
‘You say that now, but later you’ll call me a hussy and tell me to sit like a lady.’
‘I been calling you a mafia whore, slut, cocksucker and you worried I’ll call you a hussy if we get married.’
His left eye narrowed and the smile made the cleft in his chin more dramatic. ‘Most wives are frumps, prudes. I sure don’t want a fuckin’ frump for a wife.’ He looked cute and maybe it was from the heart.
‘We’ll see.’
She kissed him quickly and climbed into the SUV, poking her ass back at him as she got in.
She was glad to hear Ox was a-political, just as she was happy to hear Joe Perito came from an old-line democratic family. The Peritos had supported a long line of crooked Louisiana governors since Huey P Long and as many shady New Orleans mayors, even the new breed of African-American mayors who were as easy to bribe as Italians like Maestri. Both Ox and Joe had a healthy disgust for politicians.
She learned this about Ox over a candlelit dinner at a beach-side restaurant in Gulf Shores on a surprisingly cool evening. Lightning danced out on dark gulf waters in the distance. Thunder rumbled far away.
‘You look stunning tonight,’ Ox said, raising his glass of wine.
Lucy smiled and raised her wine, Zeller Schwartz Katz semi-sweet white wine to go with her trout almandine. She felt mellow that evening, sipping wine, watching the forked lightning play over the water. The air was dry without a hint of rain although the wind was picking up. At least Ox appreciated the time she’d spent curling her hair, applying her make-up and donning her skimpy navy blue dress with spaghetti straps. She wore pantyhose and nothing else under the dress, along with black high-heels that accentuated her legs.
The lightning show continued through dessert, which she skipped but Ox didn’t, saying he needed to build up his strength for what came later. She noticed Ox looking around the restaurant again and tapped his hand.
‘Cal and Earl have us covered.’
‘I’m checking out the women.’
She pulled her hand away and he snickered. ‘They’re frumps and prudes, every one. Except you.’
Lucy looked around and it was true. Even the young women, the ones not wearing pants, wore ankle length dresses. While her black dress wasn’t a miniskirt, it was a good six inches above her knees.
On their way through the restaurant, as several of the men checked her out, Ox reached over and squeezed her ass. While they stood outside the restaurant, waited for the SUV to be brought around and the valet parkers pretending they weren’t ogling Lucy, Ox pulled the back of her dress up to give her ass a good rubbing.
He was learning, at least.
Ox tried a new position after pounding his cock in her for a half hour. He had her climb atop his cock as he sat at the edge of the bed, then stood slowly, her legs wrapped around his waist and his cock buri
ed in her. Holding her hands, he let her fall back slowly, until her head was just above the floor.
‘Now put your hands on the floor.’
She did and he latched on to her waist and fucked her that way. How his cock didn’t slip out was surprising. That the position worked and Lucy felt his cock touching different places inside her, sent a spasm through her.
‘How you like this, you tramp, you whore, you come-sucking slut?’
‘Yes. Yes.’ Lucy was panting now.
‘Love my cock.’
‘Yes. Yes.’
‘Tell it.’
‘I … love … your cock.’
‘The fuck you do!’ He came in deep heaves and grunted, like an ox.
They took it out on the balcony after Ox drank a beer and Lucy downed a bottle of icy spring water. Holding the railing, getting fucked doggie style again, Lucy saw Z-Man and his brother each had a pair of binoculars now.
‘Your caretaker’s watching,’ Ox said as he worked his cock in and out in long strokes.
‘He’s seen it before.’
‘Watchin’ the mafia whore getting it.’ Ox playfully slapped her ass. ‘It’s kinda dark here. Can’t see that much.’
‘There’s … a light switch … behind you.’
Ox pulled out, flipped on the light and went right back to pounding her. Lucy watched the binoculars and felt them on her, like fireflies tickling her as she fucked. Ox seemed determined to bull her through the railing but she kept her arms locked and took it, feeling another climax wash through her.
Back in bed after Ox had disposed of his condom, they lay side-by-side, the ceiling fan cooling the perspiration on their bodies. Ox started talking nasty again and Lucy almost laughed as his speech became more slurred as sleep overcame him.
‘Such a … whore … real slut bitch … fuckin’ in front of people … dressing like a slut … causing ’rections everywhere … you go … showing your ass … you fuckin’ whore ….’
She went downstairs naked later for another bottled water and spied Cal and Earl at either end of the sofa. They each had a beer on the coffee table as they watched a John Wayne movie. As soon as she saw Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson, she said, ‘Rio Bravo, right?’
The twins were checking out her body.
‘Lucy Lou,’ Earl said. ‘You drive me crazy.’
She pulled the bottle from her mouth and said, ‘So, you wanna fuck or watch cowboys on TV?’
They fucked her on the sofa while John Wayne argued with Walter Brennan, Ricky Nelson and Dean Martin serenading them in the background. She took them, one in the mouth, one in the pussy, each coming in the condoms while one of the men she might marry slept upstairs and two Sicilian soldati sat 50 yards away in the caretaker’s house dreaming of doing the same thing to the Don’s daughter.
After, as she lay across them on the sofa, Earl French kissed her for a good minute, telling her he’d been a little in love with her since he was a little boy. ‘Next time I’m not using a condom. You’re on the pill and I’m getting a complete check up to prove I ain’t got nothin’ to give you but my dick.’
She kissed him back and looked at Cal sitting with her legs spread around him. ‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I wanna fill you up with African come.’
Jesus. She could go again right then. What was happening to her? She’s heard of women getting gangbanged by a dozen or more men in a row. The pussy could take it and hers certainly wanted more.
There were three high points the following day, Ox’s last twenty-four hours. First came at brunch when Cal and Earl presented chilled turkey salad sandwiches with crisp lettuce, juicy tomatoes and poppy seed dressing on flaky croissants, iced tea to wash it down.
The second came on the beach, when Ox laid out their beach towels between two small sand dunes, stripped Lucy’s bikini from her and screwed her under the sunlight, waves rolling to shore, sea breeze flowing over their sweating bodies, pelicans and gulls gliding past. Doing it outside turned Lucy on yet again. Knowing they could be discovered always made her hot.
When Ox went in for cool drinks and to rid himself of the condom, Lucy’s third high point of the day occurred. Lying spread eagle on her back as her body machinery recovered from a good reaming, she felt a shadow move over her. Even with her dark sunglasses, she had to shield her eyes as Guido Zazzera stood over her, looking down from the top of the small sand dune.
He said nothing as he shielded his own dark brown eyes, moving his gaze up and down Lucy’s body, pausing at her tits and pussy. He reached up and curled his handle-bar moustache as he considered the naked woman before him. His hand went down to his crotch, which he rubbed slowly as he moved around to get a better view of her pussy. Lucy raised her knees, drawing her feet up to open her pussy for him. He stood just beyond her open legs and stared intently at her pussy for a long minute, still rubbing his crotch.
Lucy craned her neck up to watch his as his gaze remained fixed on her pussy lips. She wondered, as her breathing increased, what it would be like with this old moustache Pete, those rough Sicilian hands fingering her before he shoved his cock in her and fucked her like they did it in the old country.
Guido was gone by the time Ox returned with a beer and bottled water for Lucy.
‘That was hot,’ he said.
‘It’s too hot outside,’ she said, taking a sip before getting up and strolling naked back to her house. She waved over her shoulder to the bikini and towels, ‘Oh boy, pick up will you?’
Ox laughed but obeyed.
Approaching the steps up to the balcony, Lucy spotted a green SUV heading toward the fort. It slowed, the horn honking. The windows went down and two college-aged boys stuck their heads out and howled as the car continued on. Lucy waved.
There was a surprise from Ox as they had dinner. Lucy prepared spaghetti and meat balls, Sicilian-style with brown-red tomato gravy over linguine. As they sat at the small dining room table overlooking the beach, Ox told her he was falling for her, big time.
‘And I’m not talkin’ just about sex here.’ His brown eyes looked even larger than normal.
She took a sip of wine.
‘And Joe Perito feels the same way.’
Ox had to go into the kitchen for a dishtowel to wipe up Lucy’s spill.
‘You talked with Joe Perito?’ she asked when she’d stopped coughing.
‘We had a sit-down. Man to man.’ Ox finished wiping up the vino and sat back across from her. ‘You’re pulling all the strings here, Lucy. And that’s OK. But we can’t let this get outta hand. We made an agreement, then talked to this Al “The Thrill” after.’
She leaned back, tapping her fingers on the table. ‘You want to let me in on this agreement?’ She felt the heat rising, felt that same old feeling of being manipulated as she had with her papa and lately with The Guag.
His brown eyes softened and he was trying not to smile. ‘We agreed that whatever choice you made, we’d support you. We’d back you up and not get all Sicilian-stupid over this.’ He leaned forward. ‘You have all the power, Lucy. We just want to make sure we men don’t do something dumb over this.’ He raised his left hand in the familiar Italian sign, fingers to thumb, moving up and down. ‘Capito, Signorina Incanto?’
‘Capito.’ She relaxed as the smile broke out on his face.
‘Can I tell you something that you shouldn’t get mad about?’
‘What?’
‘You’re so damn cute when you get angry.’
Later, when her period started Lucy knew playtime was over for a few days. No Sicilian man would screw her when she was ‘unclean’. She didn’t need a lesson on that. Then again, she never liked to do it when menstruating anyway. So she put on a pair of dark slacks as the twins packed up the gear.
Ox’s 48 were over.
The hospital room stank of so many chemicals Lucy had no idea what she was smelling. It looked clean, antiseptic would be a better term. Sitting in the chair next to the bed, she held her papa’s hand, the one without the
drips stuck in it and softly rubbed his palm. No reaction.
She’d been recalling their first trip to Disneyworld, how she thought Mickey Mouse was real and was so amazed she got to meet him and how Mickey held her in his arms for Papa to take a picture. She called him, ‘Mittey’, and kissed him on the cheek. She didn’t remember it actually, but her papa had told and re-told the story and she’d seen the pictures enough times for it to be a real memory. She wasn’t quite two at the time.
Her mother was bored at Disneyworld, but her papa loved it. His bodyguards had so much fun, one of them got lost in Adventureland and a search party was sent for him. She was nine that trip. The missing bodyguard was found sitting with the Pirates of the Caribbean, drinking with the pirate mannequins. Apparently the bodyguard smuggled a flask of rum into the Magic Kingdom. She never saw much of that man after. Not that he went missing. He just wasn’t trustworthy enough to be Big Luke’s bodyguard. They’d exiled him to Kiln, Mississippi, to run a couple of Uncle Leo’s places. Lucy later learned they were hot-sheet whore houses. The poor soldier went from watching Big Luke to watching whores. Ha.
She whispered those stories into her father’s ear and his hand quivered slightly, his head moved a tad and she knew he heard her, hopefully recognizing her voice and the love there. But that was all she got. On her way out, she talked with the doctor who said Big Luke had the heart of a lion and the strength of a rhino. ‘He won’t give up.’
She thanked him and left.
Wearing a ruffled white blouse and tan slacks, she didn’t give Louie and Big Nose anything to gawk at, which didn’t prevent them from looking. Since she’d worn the see-through yellow dress for Joe Perito, the men have checked her out carefully.
Thankfully they sensed her mood and dispensed with the small talk.
She tried taking a nap later but only managed to doze off when another rain storm rambled in from the gulf, pepping the trees outside her bedroom balcony, shaking the house with thunderous booms as lightning danced above. She opted for a cool bath and lay in the water until her fingers became wrinkly.
Mafia Aphrodite Page 11