car sex

Mischa’s potential client was driving her nuts. Absolutely, certifiably insane.



Oh, it wasn’t that Mr. Jeremy Dalton was difficult. As a self-made real estate investor, he was demanding, controlling, opinionated, hard-headed, and hard-working – all qualities she’d expect from someone who amassed a good-sized fortune before 40. In fact, she not only expected those qualities, but admired and respected them.



And, as financial advisor who wanted his account, she understood them. She worked with personalities such as his on a daily basis, and Mr. Dalton wasn’t nearly as high-maintenance as other clients she’d known or worked with.



That was part of the problem.



Within her firm, Mischa was known as a bit of a shark, willing to do whatever it took to seal the deal, grab the client, and make money, lots of money. She was shrewd, tenacious, and insightful, quick to identify exactly what approach to take to land an account… and she had to admit that Mr. Dalton left her baffled.



It really burned her well-toned ass.



Mischa wasn’t above using any weapon at her disposal – cleavage, flirting, sex, flattery, or her sharp mind and quick wit, if the client preferred to keep things strictly professional – and absolutely none of them seemed to work with Mr. Dalton.



After a long week of wining and dining in LA, she was no closer to signing Mr. Dalton to her firm, and no closer to figuring out what to do to change that. Most of her male clients appreciated at least a little cleavage or flattery, especially from her. With thick wavy black hair, bright green eyes, creamy skin, and a curvy figure, Mischa knew she was attractive, and didn’t apologize for it. She didn’t mind if her male clients, and one delightful female client, wanted to see her in a low-cut dress over dinner. She was willing to drop everything and fly out to wherever her clients wanted to meet; she’d taken meetings on golf courses and ski slopes, in spas and on beaches, over dinners, lunches, breakfasts, coffees, and, yes, in beds – whatever it took to make her clients happy.



That’s why she pulled no punches this past week for Mr. Dalton. When she wasn’t working, she had spent her time lavishing attention on him; she wanted to show Mr. Dalton that she was willing to do the same for him. His newest project was based in LA, her hometown, which would make her firm an excellent choice for his business, but after a four-course meal in one of the hottest restaurants in the city of angels, he still wasn’t willing to commit. He hadn’t said it out loud yet, but Mischa had been observing him throughout the evening very closely, and his face remained as passive and politely interested as it had been all week.



Mischa had a sinking suspicion he’d be getting on a plane tomorrow night without hiring them, and God, she hated losing.



She worked hard to stifle a sigh and maintain an attentive expression on her face as she waited for Mr. Dalton to finish saying goodnight to their dinner companions – his business manager and his lawyer. As the valet brought their car around, Mr. Dalton titled his head and gestured to the limo.



“Shall we?” With a smile, Mischa took his offered hand and slipped inside, congratulating herself on the forethought to hire a larger car. As a potential client, it was a standard gesture, but Mr. Dalton was at least six feet three inches tall, and had wide shoulders. With being such a large man, he wouldn’t have been comfortable in anything smaller than a limo.



She had barely settled into a seat when two big hands gripped her hips, and she was lifted and guided to the opposite side. Blinking, she suddenly found herself on the seats right behind the driver. What the hell?



She must have given him a look because one eyebrow lifted and he smirked at her as he settled back.



“Do you like your personal space, Mr. Dalton?” They had come over with his business manager and lawyer, but both had elected to take a cab back to the hotel. Maybe he just wanted to stretch out?



“Maybe I just want to look at you instead of the horrible traffic here.” His eyes raked down her body so slowly, Mischa could almost swear it felt like a physical touch. Not soft, but firm, deliberate. Across her face, down her neck, onto her breasts for an extra beat before drifting down her legs to her sparkly stilettos. Her dress was short and thin and filmy, with a low, draping front and an even lower back. The only thing keeping it on this side of decent was that it was a dark blue color, but nothing could hide her nipples tightening up under his gaze. They stood out in sharp relief, little nubs pressing against the material.



The little flare of awareness she saw in his eyes told her that her body’s reaction to him didn’t go unnoticed. An answering heat sparked between her legs, though it didn’t take much. Mischa loved sex, lots of it, and after a week of no attention, something with which she wasn’t accustomed, she was aching. The fact that Mr. Dalton with his shaved head, dark brown eyes, and well-muscled body was extremely attractive didn’t help matters any, either.



Maybe that’s why her next words sounded mildly petulant.



“You haven’t spared me very many looks this past week, Mr. Dalton. Why start now?” Mischa heard him chuckle. It was deep and rumbling and made her want to rub herself all over him. Damnit.



“Are you put out that your schemes didn’t get you laid, Mischa? I bet that was shocking to a woman like you, wasn’t it? Not getting what you wanted when you wanted it? I was extremely entertained watching you trying to get a reaction out of me.” Ohmigod, was he… was he making fun of her? “Though I have to admit, you walk the line between slutty minx and businesswoman very well.”



Yes, he was making fun of her. Mischa could feel her face flush in embarrassment, her body frozen on her seat as her mind whirled, trying to figure out what to say or do.



“Don’t cry, Mischa. We wouldn’t want you to smear your makeup, would we?” came Mr. Dalton’s mocking voice. Her spine snapped straight.



“I’ve been rejected before, though not quite as callously, Mr. Dalton. I’ve no intention of crying.” Her teeth were clenched in fury, making the words hard to get out. She was absolutely not going to cry. She wasn’t.



“Do you normally insult potential clients?”



“I’m not sure I care anymore if I land you as my client or not.” Mr. Dalton laughed again, deeper and longer this time.



“Oh, you care. Especially when I tell you I’ve made a decision on whether or not to hire your firm.” Damn him, he was right. For someone who was used to reading people well and quickly, getting the tables turned on her was awkward, at very least.



“So, I’m ambitious. That’s not a crime,” she replied, trying for a casual shrug and not quite sure she succeeded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he speared her with a look.



“No, it’s not. In fact, to certain kinds of men, it’s a turn on.” She leaned forward as well.



“Are you that kind of man?”



“Aren’t you curious about my decision?” He dodged her question with one of his own. Mischa struggled not to ask, and failed, eliciting another laugh from him.



“Okay, fine. What conclusion have you come to?”



“That I like you better when you’re pissed than when you’re acting like a drone.”



“That’s not an answer.”



“That’s the only one you’ll get right now.”



Deep breaths, Mischa, she told herself. This was not the time to fly off the handle. This was the time for finesse. Hell, this should be easy! This was where she lived and breathed! So, why couldn’t she work up some charm right now? Where had her finesse run off to?



“Are you wearing underwear?”



The calm, quiet question and slightly amused tone interrupted her thoughts. Concentration thrown, she scrambled to answer.



“What?”



“Are. You. Wearing. Underwear,” he repeated, slowly and deliberately, before leaning back against the seat. “You’re not wearing a bra, so it makes me wonder if you have anything on under that flimsy excuse for a dress.”



There was no point in denying it; she wasn’t wearing a bra. The dress didn’t allow it, and thankfully, her breasts were still perky enough to get away without one. But what did she say to the panties question? A search of his face told her he’d wait as long as he needed to for the answer.



“Yes,” she grudgingly admitted. “I’m wearing underwear.”



“What kind?”



“A thong.”



“Show me.”



Show him? Was he crazy? Though she found the idea incredibly arousing, if the pulsing heat between her legs was any indication.



“Don’t you want to find out what I’ve decided about hiring you or not?” As temptations went, it wasn’t much. But he seemed to know she needed some excuse to do what he wanted, what she wanted. It had been a long, frustrating week, and if things went the way she hoped, what might happen next would make up for it. If not, she’d have great fantasy material for later.



Slowly, she slid off the seat, dragging her dress up her thighs and over her ass cheeks. When it was collected around her waist, when her knees hit the ground, she spread her legs and watched his face. She heard a soft grunt of approval, and the small smile he gave her told her that he liked what he saw. Her thong was dark blue and skimpy, with just the tiniest scrap of silk covering her pussy. The strings on either side and down the back were dark blue rhinestones strung together.



As his eyes burned, her irritation faded. She shifted so that she was crouched on her heels, knees splayed open wantonly, exposing a dark wet spot right over her slit. He grunted softly and spread his legs, pointing to the area in between them.



“Come here. And lose the dress.”



A quick flip of her arms, and her dress was gone. She threw it next to her purse, and rose to move to him when he stopped her again.



“No. On your hands and knees.”



Humiliation burned again, and made her pause. A lift of his eyebrow and a quirk of his lips told her he was testing her, waiting for her to back down. The large erection pressing against his charcoal gray suit pants told her that he hoped she wouldn’t.



Staring at it – damn, he was huge – made her mouth water, and she found herself lowering her body down to the floor of the limo. Slowly, she made her way to him, watching as his hands peeled off his clothes. First his coat, shirt, and tie. The muscles on his torso flexed and bunched as he undressed. He was magnificent. Her breath caught as he kicked off his shoes and socks, then undid his belt and unzipped his pants. She kneeled in between his legs and helped pull his pants and boxers down and off. He tossed his clothes aside and sat back, his hard cock pointing up towards his belly button.



Without a conscious thought in her head, Mischa slid her hands up his inner thighs and pressed a kiss against the underside. A tiny bit of her red lipstick transferred to his skin, and Mr. Dalton’s eyes flared.



“Keep doing that.”



More than happy to oblige, Mischa lifted herself up over his lap and kissed the length of his cock. Up, then back down, taking her time before doing the same to his balls. Eyes never leaving hers, Mr. Dalton grabbed his phone and took a call. Mischa never even heard it ring.



She didn’t know how long he was on the phone, but she did know she wanted him off and fucking her. Her body was on fire, her pussy was dripping wet. Her hands stroked and squeezed his thighs, his hips, her nails dragging down his chest. She pressed one final kiss to the head of his cock, then opened her mouth and breathed on the sensitive flesh, a thrill running through her as his body jerked in surprise. God, she wanted a taste of him so bad she couldn’t stand it.



The hand not holding the phone reached down and clamped onto her hair. It was up in a chignon at the back of her head, and his fingers tunneled into it, loosening the pins a bit. Gripping her hair tightly, he pulled her head up slightly and shook his head with a scowl. Mischa only grinned at him, and flicked her tongue out. It brushed across the tip, then under to stroke around. She circled him with her tongue, keeping it light and teasing. His hold tightened even further, but he didn’t pull her away. Instead, he finished his call – success! – and punched the intercom button.



“Driver, how long do we have you for?”



“The rest of the night, sir.”



“Excellent. Take us on a tour of LA, would you?”



“Absolutely, sir.”



“A thorough tour.”



“Yes, sir.” To his credit, the driver didn’t pause or snicker. But her company paid his company enough to warrant full discretion, so Mischa wasn’t surprised. If anything, she was grateful, and made a mental note to give him a hefty tip.



“Aren’t you a naughty one, Mischa? Did I give you permission to use your tongue?” He tugged on her head, pulling it back as he leaned forward over her, his lips brushing against hers. His face was scowling, but his eyes were hot on hers.



“No,” she replied, licking her lips and brushing his at the same time. “But you didn’t tell me I couldn’t, either.”



“You had me almost cumming while on the phone with my lawyer.” Her only response was to grin at him, her hands sliding across his belly and down.



“Oh, no you don’t. Not until I’m ready.”



He moved quickly, grabbing her up and positioning her on her hands and knees across his lap. His fingers gripped and squeezed and spread her ass cheeks, pulling on the string of her thong, tugging it tight against her flesh before rubbing it back and forth. The rhinestones were smooth for comfort, and abraded against her rear hole, teasing her. She whimpered softly, causing him to chuckle and press his finger against her asshole.



“Does this feel good?” he murmured as he rubbed around it, teasing, teasing.



“God, yes.”



“Could you have a phone conversation while this was happening?”



“N-no.”



“What about if I played with your clit?” His other hand reached under her and pressed right against that throbbing nub. The wet silk felt amazing against her clit, and she shook her head.



“N-no.” God, just a few more strokes and she’d be cumming against his hands.



“No, Mr. Dalton,” he corrected, his fingers picking up the pace, stroking her fervently now.



“No, Mr. Dalton,” she repeated, moaning. She was close, so close.



“That’s right,” he said as he pulled both hands away from her body. When she tried to lift her head to protest, one hand landed on her upper back, keeping her down. He maneuvered both of them around slightly and guided his cock towards his mouth.



“You want this?”



“Yes!” God, yes, she did. She was burning for it.



“Where?”



“God, anywhere!” She was desperate, and thrashed against him helplessly. She could smell the muskiness of him, and the dampness of her. She wanted him so bad it hurt.



“In your mouth?”



“Yes!”



“In your cunt?”



“Yes!”



“In your ass?”



“Yes! Damnit, yes! Fuck me already!” His body moved as he laughed, his cock bobbing against her lips, close, but at the wrong angle.



“Ask me nicely if you can suck my cock.” She let out a scream of frustration, which only made him laugh harder. “Ask me nicely.”



Mischa groaned. She didn’t want to, but she could see a drop of precum beading up on the tip of his dick, and she absolutely had to taste him right now.



“Please, Mr. Dalton. Please, let me suck your cock. Let me suck it hard, let me suck you off. Please, please, please!”



“Good girl,” he murmured as he turned her and lined up his cock with her mouth. Greedily, she opened and sucked him down, rapidly bobbing her head up and down, hands gripping him, stroking him thoroughly as he groaned and lifted his hips in time with her mouth.



She lost herself in the blow job, loving the drops of precum she tasted on her tongue, loving the feeling of him moving against her, the heat of his flesh against her palm. His hand landed on her ass, first lightly, then heavier and heavier, making her jump each time, making her body burn hotter. She loved being spanked and he was good at it, his big hand hitting her square and solid, moving around just when it started to get painful. He timed it perfectly to make her swallow more of him each time, and she started moaning her pleasure.



Vaguely she was aware of the sound of the windows rolling down, of the wind rushing in, but it didn’t register until she heard whistles and catcalls. Her eyes popped open and she started to struggle a little. Neither of his hands, not the one on her upper back, not the one smacking her ass, stopped or lifted.



“Don’t be shy, Mischa. You’re putting on quite the performance,” Mr. Dalton murmured softly, chuckling. “Don’t lift your head, though, unless you’d like everyone on Sunset Blvd. to see your face.”



The knowledge that the windows were down, and had been for some time, that people knew she was not only sucking cock but also getting spanked at the same time, that her red ass was on display had her arching her back and groaning deeply. The next spank hit her just over her slit and her orgasm hit, hitting her so hard she screamed out her pleasure around his cock. Bright lights filled her vision and her body froze, shaking and shuddering as she came.



Limply, she collapsed face up on Mr. Dalton’s lap, her hand cupping his cock. It was still hard and glorious, and she realized he hadn’t cum yet. The windows rolled back up, and his hands slid over her body almost tenderly. He slid off her thong and bent his head to nuzzle her breasts, nipping at the hardened tips, making her shiver.



“You are amazing, Mischa,” he whispered, suckling her. “Another woman would have hit me or bit me after that stunt. Not you. You came, nice and hard for me, didn’t you?”



He lifted her and arranged her upright on the seat, ass near the edge, legs spread wide. This time, he was the one to kneel between her legs, his face pressing kisses across her swollen lips.



“I should have bit you,” Mischa managed to say, her hand running over his scalp.



“You wouldn’t have. You’re an exhibitionist,” his voice was so assured and smug. How did he know that? She would have asked him, but he started pressing kisses right on her clit, and the sensations that zinged through her felt exquisite. “You liked getting spanked like that, with my cock deep in your throat. You liked having your ass on display. You liked knowing others could see you but you couldn’t see them. Finding out might have surprised you, but you liked it, didn’t you?”



His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them as wide as they could go, exposing her pussy and ass to him. Her position, so open and vulnerable, made her tremble. He was so big, so strong, he could do anything right now, and she’d let him. He exposed her, guessing she’d enjoy it, and she did. He made her cum so hard with just spanking, without anything in her pussy or ass, that’s how turned on he made her. He was right, she got off on it, hard.



“Yes, Mr. Dalton, I loved it. Absolutely loved it.”



“What do you say to me?”



“Thank you, Mr. Dalton.”



“Good girl,” he murmured before his mouth opened and his tongue started stroking her.



And stroking her it was; not little licks, not teasing flicks, but long, thorough strokes. Through her puffy lips, across her clit, down into her pussy. She had just cum not five minutes before but already he had her writhing beneath him, ready again. She pushed her hips up against his mouth, whimpering.



“What a hungry little cunt you have, Mischa.”



“The better to fuck you with, Mr. Dalton,” she rasped. That made him laugh, hard, and he lifted up to press a brief kiss to her mouth. She tasted herself there, and her tongue darted out to lick his lips. He eyes, dark as night, got even hotter.



“You like the taste of yourself?”



“Mmhm,” she nodded.



“Hold your legs open.” Once she’d done as he asked, two fingers slid down her slit and into her. “You’re so wet and delicious. I want you to taste yourself.” He pumped a few times, enough to tease, then pulled his fingers out and lifted them to her lips. Without missing a beat, her mouth opened and she sucked those fingers in, then sucked them clean. Her tongue dragged across every inch of his fingers, in between the webbing, across the knuckles, over his nails.

Chapter 4—Masturbating!



I have more free time these days and thought that it would be a great chance to continue to tell you more about this sexy, beautiful, older, lady called M Chan. As I told you in earlier stories, what is written here is true and small details have to be changed so that it would be hard to identify all the people that are or will be involved in these tales.



M Chan is a ballerina by trade, she is actually very good at it and makes most of her living by teaching at her own private studio, which she calls her “Fuck Palace” when using it to entertain her boytoys. She also teaches dancing at a local education center in the city where we live because its name gives her more exposure to the general public.



M Chan has also asked me on a number of occasions if I think she would be able to act in X-rated movies and make money doing so. I continue to tell her every time it comes up that I believe that she would be a perfect porn star in the movie category the Japanese call “Madonna Porn.” These are porn videos that show ladies usually about 50 years old or older, and the setting or story lines involve an incest family setting or a door to door salesman coming to a home and ending up fucking the mother.



The reason that I think M Chan would make a great porn actress is that she is into trying anything when fucking. She loves sucking cocks and drinking the hot salty cum that she gets out of her men. She fucks in all kinds of different positions and squirts pussy juice out of her pussy like its coming from a water gun. Anal sex turns her on like she’s a mad women, she really loves getting fucked hard and fast in her ass after she’s warmed up a little. She’s tried sex with two men at the same time and loves it, unfortunately I wasn’t involved in that episode.



She loves having her men use lots of sex toys on her and one of her dreams is to do a DP with two black men with big cocks. Being video taped and photographed doesn’t bother her, she actually loves watching porn videos and looking at pictures to get herself turned on especially when she’s in the videos and pictures. And last but by far not the least important thing is that this lady has a great body for her age.



M Chan is a little short, only about 155cms or 5’1″ tall, but then again she is a typical older Japanese lady. And she is very light to pick up and carry around, she only weights about 50kgs or 110lbs. She usually wears her jet black hair short and straight, along her jaw line, which I find very sexy because I like women with short hair cuts. Her face is beautiful, she has the sexiest brown eyes that seem to sparkle when she is getting turned on and that roll over when she is cumming hard.



Her mouth is small, great for kissing which she is very good at and it seems like it was made to suck cock. She also has great lips, almost always covered with bright red lipstick, which looks so sexy when they are surrounding my big hard cock. Her skin is creamy white typical also of older Japanese women, but very tight because of her dancing and exercising everyday,



Her tits are about a 34C cup, or maybe a big B cup now and quite firm with a small light pink colored area around her very hard, pointy nipples. Her nipples are also very sensitive, light pulling, pinching, or sucking them will make M Chan’s pussy very wet and even make her cum at times. She loves having her nipples played with when having sex, it’s one of her big turn-ons.



Her hips and waist have a very sexy curve to them and are great to hold on to when driving my cock into M’s tight little asshole or wet pussy. M’s ass cheeks are also firm and fit perfectly into my hands when she sits on my cock facing me, they make pulling her towards me and nailing my cock into her tight wet pussy so easy.



Her pussy is always shaved clean and tastes delicious. It is also very tight and wet when she is having sex. One of the other things I noticed very early on when I started fucking M is that her pussy is very small, what I mean is that I always hit the back of it with my seven inch cock (17.5cm) and sometimes when we get too excited it can actually hurt her a little if we are in the Missionary position and I’m driving my full cock down into her. She also has a very tiny clit, but it is easy to lick when she is excited.



Something else that I really love about M’s pussy is its wetness. She has a very easy to find G-spot about 2cm, less then an inch, inside the upper portion of her pussy and it is always super sensitive. Before she squirts, if I go slow M’s pussy releases a very thick white cream, almost like a man’s cum, that will slowly run down over her asshole and between the cheeks out onto the blanket covering the floor. This cream acts as a great lube for fucking her in the ass. I always seem to know when this cream is going to come out of her pussy because she always cries the same thing on her first orgasm, “Oh! Oh! Oh! There, right there, I’m cummming!” and about 5 seconds later this sexy cream starts to work its way out of her wet pussy.



As I stated previously, M Chan’s asshole is so tight and hot, it squeezes most of the blood out of my hard cock making it look white. Once the head of my cock slides pass her splinter surrounding her asshole my cock will go all the way into her until I’m balls deep. Her asshole is also very sensitive so M Chan likes to have her A-hole fucked very slowly at first and when she’s lubed up enough she really likes to have a dildo or cock pound into her, she may even squirt pussy juice sometimes just by having her ass fucked good and hard.



M Chan’s favorite fucking position is the reverse cowgirl because she can control the speed and depth of a cock going into her tight pussy. However, she can only use this position when she is fucking a foreign man because most of her Japanese men’s cocks are not long enough to stay in her pussy or get into her deep enough for her to enjoy fucking in this way. She also likes to fuck facing mirrors, like in her dance studio, so that she can watch how it looks to have a big hard cock slide in and out of her wet pussy.



Being a dancer, M Chan has a great hard set of legs, nice muscles and very strong, great for fucking in different positions. I once fucked M’s asshole while she was holding herself up off the floor using her legs on the handrails in from of the mirrors in her dance studio, it looked like she was doing the splits on those handrails while facing the mirror. This position made her ass so tight that I almost couldn’t get my cock back out of her after I had shot a full load of hot sticky cum up into her hot little hole.



I think the only reason M Chan hasn’t done porn professionally is that she doesn’t know how to get into the business. She once told me that her favorite thing in life is having sex, and that if she could get paid to fuck that would be her dream job. Something else that might be on her mind about doing professional porn is that M Chan is a very clean lady and only fucks her boytoys if they use condoms. She actually enjoys trying out different types of condoms from different parts of the world.



I’ve been fucking M Chan regularly now for about five years, mostly once a week, but sometimes on special occasions we might be able to hook up twice in the same week. M Chan usually has about five or six really good orgasms with lots of squirting, and she gets to drink my cum once or twice when we are fucking. M Chan told me that she usually gets fucked five, sometimes six days out of a week. She has a stable of boytoys, that’s what she calls the men that she can count on to fuck her good and hard. She also picks up men that she doesn’t know when she travels to Tokyo or some other city or out of the country. I love to hear her tell me about some of her men and how she has fucked them.



I know there are two photographers, one takes her studio promotion pictures and the other is his boss. Those were the two that she fucked recently at the same time, but she didn’t do a DP with them. She wants me to do that with her because my cock is bigger them most of her other boytoys. She also fucks the man from the ad agency, he’s into bondage and wax. There’s a doctor or male nurse from the hospital that her father once stayed in, he’s into costumes and dressing up. There are a couple of more but I don’t know much about them as of now. A lot of her boytoys are married which makes her comfortable because she knows they won’t pressure her to get married.



Typically one of our fuck sessions will be at her “Fuck Palace” about 10 minutes from one of the high schools where I teach. I slip out of the school at various times during the day to go to her place and we fuck in the dressing room of her studio, sometimes when it is warm we fuck each other in the middle of her studio, the shower in her office, or on the seats in the reception area where all the mother’s sit when they are waiting for their children to finish their lessons. M Chan really likes to fuck hard and squirt a lot when we do it in the reception area because it turns her on to think about the mothers sitting where we have fucked and to know that they are sitting in our cum sometimes. Then there are our really special fuck sessions where we meet and fuck outdoors somewhere, but over the years as our meetings have increased we do most of our fucking at her place.



In this story I would like to tell you about the time that I got M Chan to fuck herself with a thirteen inch long (33cm), two inch wide (5cm), black double head dildo. It was one of her most enjoyable times with me and she told me that she had never done anything like it before. Now before your think, “What’s the big deal about masturbating with a dildo?”, let me tell you the story of where and how she did it.



My wife and children were going out of the country for five days to Korea in late March when the schools closed for a short vacation between when the kids change grades. The school year in Japan starts in April and ends in March. I was scheduled to travel with them as well, but then I was informed that my high school principle needed me to stay in the country and attend some meetings that were going to be going on at the same time that we were suppose to be in Korea. My wife decided that her and the kids would just go without me because it would be a great chance for all of them to see a different country and culture. I would just have to miss it this time.



At first I was disappointed, but then I got the following email from M Chan;



TO: Jkun@xxxxx.com



FR: MChan@xxxxx.com



SUBJECT: Fuck my asshole, please!



DATE: Friday, March 16th, 2012



Hi Jkun;



Thank you for fucking my pussy so hard the last time at my Fuck Palace, I really squirted lots of pussy juice all over my studio floor. The next couple of days after I keep looking at the spot while I was teaching my kids to dance and kept thinking about what we did and I got so horny. I’ve fucked my pussy and asshole with my big vibrating dildo and came so much but I really need the real thing.



Do you think we could get together soon so you can fuck the shit out of me? I really need to squeeze your big hard cock into my tight little asshole. Please tell me when and where I can have that big cock of yours. I really need to have a drink of that beautiful tasting cum that you have.



Email me back and tell me that you are going to fuck this horny little slut good and hard.



M Chan



That brought a smile to my face and a permanent hardness to my cook. Seeing that my family, were going to be out of the country the following week, I decided to meet with M Chan on the Monday, that’s when she teaches her kids class at the local TV studio. I knew that she would finish at 8:30PM, so I arranged to pick her up in my new Mazda 5, around the corner from the studio exit. She didn’t want the kids mom’s seeing her get into a foreigner’s car, too many questions for her to deal with she told me.



Being March, and knowing that it would be dark when I picked M Chan up, my mind was racing as to what I could do with my sexy little slut. I knew that we were going to fuck outdoors somewhere and that I was going to shove my big hard cock into her tight little asshole, but I wanted something else that would really turn M Chan on and make her super horny for my cock.



I had seen a Japanese porn video once about this guy fucking this cute young girl in the back of a moving car as it drove around Tokyo. This was the basis for my idea as how I was going to make M Chan’s fucking session with me something that she would remember and something that she had never tried before.



I got my Mazda 5 ready by putting down all the seats in the back which makes a space about the size of a single bed. I then put down a couple of blankets and a sleeping bag to make it more comfortable, and I piled a few pillows against the back hatch to act as a head rest.



I picked M Chan up at just after 8:30pm, it was already pretty dark by this time, which played into my plans for our evening.



“Good evening my sexy little slut. Are you ready to have some fun?” I asked as M jumped into the passenger seat.



Glancing over her shoulder M Chan looked back at me with a huge smile on her face. “What are we going to do back there tonight?”



“Me? I’m not going to do anything but drive you around for a little while. You on the other hand are going to be cumming a lot before I’m ready to give you my big hard cock, my sweet little bitch.” I replied.



I drove us up the street to this big park in the center of our city to get M Chan ready. I stopped in a corner of the parking lot that had some tree cover and a light that wasn’t working properly, it kept flicking on and off, mostly off.



“Get out, please.” I instructed M Chan. I also got out and walked around the car to her side and proceeded to open the rear passenger sliding door for her. “Now bitch, get your fucking clothes off!”



“What? Here?” M Chan asked more then a little surprised.



“Yes, strip for me right here. Right now. Start with your jacket and blouse.” I ordered.



M Chan seemed nervous, but she removed her jacket and blouse.



“Next, strip down to only your underwear.” I told her.



M Chan looked around, then she undid her pants and slowing pushed them down. She then took off her boots and continued to remove her pants. I stepped forward and grabbed the back of her head and brought her mouth to mine. I slipped my tongue into M’s mouth and started to play with her tongue, while my left hand slide into her panties. M’s bald pussy felt so warm and when I shoved two of my fingers into her pussy she was already starting to get very wet.



“Is this turning you on?” I teased.



“Yes! Are you going to fuck my pussy or ass here? Can I suck your big hard cock first?” M Chan moaned.



“No. Get that underwear off and get yourself fucking naked, my sexy little slut.” I said



M Chan looked around again before slowly removing her bra and setting her beautiful tits free, then she bent over and slide her G string down her sexy legs and off her feet. She then stood up proudly holding her panties on her finger and said. “Now what, master?”



I took her panties and put them in my pocket, then I turned her around and slapped her her cheeks a few times which made my little sex kitten squeal with delight.



“Jump that sexy ass of yours into the back and lay down, make yourself comfortable. That bag there on the left has some things in it for you to play with while I drive us to our next destination. Don’t worry, the windows are tinted so you can see out but nobody can see in, unless they are looking in the front window. So relax and enjoy the ride.”



I jumped back in the driver’s seat, after getting M Chan settled into the back. She piled the pillows up against the back hatch and leaned back on them, in a reclining position. The perfect position so that she could see out the side and front windows and also see my face in the rearview mirror.



I started the car and put some heat on in the back so that she wouldn’t get cold. I next put a DVD into my car’s player to give M Chan some thing to get her in a horny mood. It was a video of one of our earlier sessions are her Fuck Palace. It showed me using a Hip G vibrator with a large head on it slowly fucking it in and out of M Chan’s very wet pussy. I was also rubbing her clit and sucking on her sweet nipples. M Chan was panting and asking me to make her cum hard, leading up to one of M Chan’s longest, wettest squirts.



I got my hard cock fitted in a good position inside my pants, put the car in drive and headed for downtown where I knew there would be lots of people walking around looking for a party or somewhere to get a drink.



“Open the bag and find something that you like.” I said, keeping one eye on the road and the other on M in my mirror.



First she pulled out the black double head dildo.



“OH MY GOD! Is this for me? Do you think I can get all of this in my pussy?” She squealed, while rubbing her hand up and down the length of the thing.



“There’s more.” I told her.



Next she pulled out a four inch Gumdrop butt plug, some oil, and a pair of silver beaded nipple clamps.



“Oh this is going to be fun. I love these toys!” M Chan said like she was a child opening gifts on Christmas morning.



“Get comfortable and start playing with yourself. I want you to make yourself cum as many times as you can while I drive you around downtown. Think about all those people just feet away from you while you fuck yourself and cum all over the car.” I said. “Just imagine what some of those men would do if you invited them into the back to join you.”



“This is making me so wet. Can I squirt all over your car? It might get messy.” M asked as she started to oil up the butt plug first.



“That’s my plan, sexy. Cum and squirt all you want.”



I pulled over to the side of the road to watch as M Chan slowly worked the butt plug into and out of her tight little asshole.



“This is a nice plug. It feels so good going into my tight hole and it fits perfectly. Should I fuck myself with this for a while?” M Chan moaned.



“It’s your night my little slut, do whatever you want.”



“I want to try these nipple clips, they look so cute. Every time I move they’ll pull on my hard nipples.” M Chan said as she tightened them onto her very hard and pointy nipples.



Next she picked up the big double headed dildo and started to suck it into her mouth. I watched in amazement as M slowly swallowed it down into her throat, after about 8 inches (20cm) she started to pull it back out, covering it in spit.



“That’s big.” She groaned. “I don’t think I can get anymore of it into my mouth. I almost gagged that time. I’m just going to get it nice and lubed with my spit and then I’m going to shove this monster into my cunt.”



I watched as M spit all over the dildo and then placed the big head to her wet pussy lips. Slowly she worked that big black cock into her very tight pussy. Inch after inch went in and stretched her beautiful pussy wider and wider. I could see that with the butt plug in her asshole and this monster dildo slipping into her pussy that M Chan was filling herself and feeling lots of pleasure doing so.



After sliding about seven or eight inches (17-20cm) into her very wet pussy, M wrapped her tiny hands around the remaining four inches (10cm). “Jesus my pussy and ass are so fucking full! This is unbelievable! I’m going to cum just by squeezing them with my cunt muscles. Drive Jkun, when I start rubbing my clit and playing with my nipples I am going to cum so hard, I might need you to pick someone up to help me!” M Chan moaned.



I started driving again and headed to an area downtown where I knew there would be lots of people walking around. I watched with one eye as M Chan slowly pulled the dildo out of her pussy stopping when the head reached the end. The dildo was so wet, I could actually see her thick, white cum all over it. M slowly pushed the fake cock back into herself and I could see her white juice slowly slide down between her sexy ass cheeks around both sides of the butt plug, and on to the blankets. I could see that she was having a great time and that she was going to cum very soon, her legs had pushed her ass cheeks were about a foot off the blankets and she was starting to fuck herself faster and faster with her new best friend.

The blue Jeep Cherokee made its way from Manhattan Island, now hesitantly drifting down a winding New Jersey street. Its wheels sloshed through melting snow as it passed imposing old money estates. The jeep slowed, rolling to a stop next to the snow covered roadside, avoiding the incoming corner turn that lead directly to the estate beyond the trees. It’s intended destination.



“Bri, my parents live just over there.” Said the olive skinned passenger, now pointing beyond the snowcapped trees.



The driver turned removing his seat-belt sighing signifying the words to come were serious.



“Andrea, do your parents know that I’m coming?”



“Yes,” she said with less than solid confidence.



“What was that?”



“What was what?”



“In your voice, you’re not telling me something.”



“I told my dad I was bringing a friend, but….”



“Leaving out the fact that the friend is your black boyfriend? Am I on target? God it’s Christmas dinner, Andrea!”



“Yes, but my mom knows, and you’ve met my mom and brothers. They like you, you’ve known my little brother Alex from when he visited me at college, trust me, it’s not a problem Brian baby.”



“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Does your dad at least have a hint of a clue that we’re dating now?” Brian asked, knowing Andrea’s dad wasn’t the most accepting person.



A guilt laden silence kept Andrea’s response at bay. Her indirect eyes said it all.



“Well that’s just great!”



“It’s all going to be fine, better than fine.” She said reassuringly.



“Your dad hates me. Remember two months ago, at your cousins wedding? You should have seen the way he looked at me; that was when we were just friends. Can you imagine how he’ll react now? He’ll carve me, like a turkey.”



“We weren’t friends. Stop lying to yourself. We just hadn’t given ourselves a title yet and you were still trying to act like you didn’t like me.”



Brian, armed with his pearly white smile, decided to correct her. “Like you? I’ve loved you from Chicago….” He said gazing into her deep sparkling brown eyes. “Nine years ago, you said you wanted to be friends so since then I denied my feelings for you, even to myself.”



“I love you more; I was just a little late in figuring it out, Bri, that’s all. My family is going to love you too; we’re going to have a great Christmas dinner.”



Brian’s smile turned into genuine laughter. “You’re funny … You’re beautiful and funny, you love me more, that’s impossible.”



“The second time around it was me that pursued you. Okay, I know how you attorney’s like to leave out key evidence to make your cases. For over two months I chased you.” Andrea said while she unbuckled her seatbelt, something that went unnoticed by Brian.



“True, you were quite the little stalker.” Brian said with a laugh.



“I was just claiming what’s mine and always will be mine.” She said in a sultry tone.



Letting her seat belt completely recoil, taking the keys out of the ignition. She sat unrestrained and brazen. Her small, slender fingers moved under her skirt, pulling her shear black panties down her extended legs, stopping above her leather boots.



“Now?” Brian asked his eyes darting about; afraid her father might pop out from the bushes with an axe.



With a sleight of hand she reclined his seat, lowering it to its furthest tilt.



She lifted her left leg from the passenger side, over to the driver’s side slowly lowering her frame along his waist, straddling him.



“Do you want me to stop?” She asked with a knowing, mischievous smile.



Without breaking contact the four brown pupils remained keenly focused, even as he answered by unbuckling his belt.



Her cold fingers reached for his member causing him to jump a little.



“Sorry,” she said with a seductive smirk, briefly stealing her hands away to tie up her extraordinarily long dark hair, and hopefully warming them up.



Lowering her frame, her dimpled lips connected to his with a delicate, driven finesse that indicated a deep hunger.



She teasingly rubbed her beautifully smooth flower on his raging member, back and forth denying her lover the object of his immediate desire.



She took a hand placing it under his chin, capturing the full attention, that in actuality she already had.



“All you need to do is look at me, just look at me… just look at me,” she repeated like a mantra, taking a warmed up free hand to guide his long, rigid tool to her aching, slit.



A grunt and an inhalation were exchanged between the two lovers, as girth and warmth came together in harmony.



With her leather boots planted around Brian’s legs, she lifted her body upwards just to drop it back down with manic urgency.



“Just look at me,” she kept saying between gasps for breath, and smiles of pleasure.



“No matter what happens around that dinner table you just look at me,”



“God, I love you.” He stated, as his fingers traveled past her black stockings flicking away the fabric off the interfering skirt, venturing from her warm thighs to her tight, heart shaped buttock. He drank in the sight of her, taking in her natural and deeper beauty. “Beautiful.” He said his hands making the journey up under the back of her blouse pulling her down while he lifted up his head kissing her in a deep French kiss, their tongues tangling, their lips exchanging little puffs of ecstasy.



With cries of bliss echoing through the rocking jeep her eyes fought the need to roll upward. She lost the battle as her pussy quivered around his length.



His hands gripping her tight cheeks pushed her upwards as fast as she drove downwards, their tongues hungry for more, but another hunger had to be fed first.



Seconds later it was, as Brian shot deep inside Andrea, mere seconds later she collapsed into his protecting embrace both of her lips quivering, screaming with accomplished bliss, their tongues now completing the last leg of the race.



She sat like that for minutes, running a finger along his flat stomach, through his shirt and sweater. The kissing and the sensations of his flesh were spurring her on, the beginning of a whole new adventure starting up, until suburban after Chevy suburban shot past the two carnal beings.



Andrea jumped to her side of the Jeep fixing herself.



“How many members of your family are attending this thing?” He asked, turning on the engine, pulling behind a plumbing van that just passed by. Turning the corner the plumbing van took its place with the fleet of suburban’s scattered all over Andrea’s parent’s long driveway.



Brian turned his head toward Andrea with a smile.



“This isn’t funny!” She pouted.



“You have to see how it’s a little funny?”



“How?”



“There is nothing your dad, the hypocrite Mafia boss can say to me now; he’s been pulled off his high horse by the justice department, or should I say the FBI.”



“You don’t know that it’s the FBI!”



Just as she finished her sentence, a woman in an ill-fitting blue jacket approached. Its bold lettering that read FBI were a lot more important than its weathered uselessness.



The FBI agent came out into the middle of the driveway extending her palm, stopping the Jeep. Brian smiled at Andrea, she responded with a sad face saying, “Do something for me, please?”



The federal agent gestured Brian to roll down the window.



“Sir we can’t allow you to pass. We’re just about to have New Jersey state trooper’s cordon off the compound, they’re just a little behind.”



Brian turned his head toward a visually saddened Andrea.



He took a breath turning back to the woman.



“Sir did you not hear me, turn your vehicle around.”



“Agent….?” Brian asked searching for the name of the abrasive federal agent.



“Alright then I’ll introduce myself. I’m Brian Cargill. At this time I’m identifying myself as the Attorney for Nicholas Curtoni, the man on whom I assume you’re executing a warrant of some sort, right now.”



Her anger at Brian’s announcement escaped her mouth in the form of hot air.



“Look, you’ll need to wait here until I can get Supervisory Special Agent Derrick Walker.”



Brian was in his own world as his hands slipped through the bills in his wallet then cards. He pulled out two cards, shoving them in the agents face.



“This is my New York Secure pass ID card, but I guess this one works better for you, my New Jersey Attorney’s ID card.”



“I never said I didn’t believe you were a lawyer, sir. Put your cards away and wait for Agent Walker.”



Brian put his cards back in his wallet and put his wallet back in his jacket.



“Look, agent, I don’t know your name. You haven’t moved to get this agent, Walker after I clearly identified myself.” Brian popped his head out the window pointing his finger, beyond the fleet of vehicles meters ahead to the group of men amassing at the large front door.



“I assume he’s one of those men?”



The agent said nothing, knowing that her delaying tactic had been deciphered, so she decided to simply stop communicating with Brian.



“Alright,” Brian said pulling his window back up.



The agent began to yell as Brian sped the jeep through the lawn past the mass of federal vehicles.



********



Four minutes earlier



In the back of a decoy plumbing van, a debate was brewing.



“Walker, are you seriously, going to try and take down Nicholas Curtoni with a flawed warrant?” said a fresh faced looking man wearing another one of those useless FBI windbreakers.



“Davis, you’re young, you need to see the big picture. Most of the captains of the Curtoni crime family are in that house. With the evidence we’ve been tipped off as being inside we can lock them all up today. We’re never going to have the opportunity to destroy the Cosa Nostra ever again. New Jersey’s organized crime will be reduced to dust.”



“Which Federal Judge signed this? I don’t recognize the name.” Asked Davis, who had been reading over the document.



“It was early Christmas morning; there were no magistrates no District Judge for sure. I arrived at Newark Liberty in time to persuade a state judge into signing it, just before his airplane took off.”



Another agent at the front driver’s seat poked his head back. “Before the airplane took off?”



“Yeah I had to board the fucker.”



“He couldn’t have been too happy.” “No, he was in his seat next to his wife. Now, she wasn’t happy. But you know how smooth I am.” Walker said with a cocky smile.



“Sir, it may just be me, but it seems like you’re playing this one a bit too close to the chest.” said Davis.



“He’s right Walker,” said the driver.



“Look no one in that house can dispute this.” Walker said, waving the piece of paper like it was some sort of golden ticket.



Davis tried to hold his tongue but found his lips parting. “You don’t know that.”



“I doubt Nicholas Curtoni has his lawyer over for Christmas dinner.”



“It is possible,” remarked the driver.



“We had another decoy truck watching, so I’m positive we’re covered on the lawyer front. Plus the Curtoni lawyer is a Jew. Nicholas Curtoni is not the cuddliest fellow when it comes to outsiders. You heard the wire taps, Eric,” Walker said to the driver. “You heard how pissed he was when his daughter Andrea brought that black kid to the Russo wedding a while back. She wasn’t even dating the poor sap.”



“True. ” Eric the driver said in agreement.



Walker, with warrant in hand, let out one last pre-take down statement of confidence. “Plus I pointed out the one flaw to you. Not even a seasoned ambulance chaser would have been able to spot it. I’ll give you this, if Nicholas Curtoni, the bigot, resurrected Johnnie Cochran and is having dinner with him; then and only then are we in shit.” Walker said with laugher.



Agent Walker jumped from the van with pep in his step. Davis and Eric followed behind with a team of agents in quick succession.



Walker looked back. Even though there were a lot of SUVs, all were hidden behind a wooded covered section of the long driveway. All except for the plumbing truck, he observed the surroundings and the layout as he and his team approached the large mahogany door.



“Shut the fuck up.” Walker yelled to the eight agents who had filled in behind him. Walker’s eyes suddenly noticed a jeep speeding toward the house, but thought nothing of it. Remembering an up and coming federal prosecutor had said, she might stop by.



Today being Christmas the door was answered by Mrs. Curtoni herself instead of one of the maids. The regally aged woman opened the door to the face of a Cheshire cat grinning middle aged man.



“Merry Christmas Mrs. Curtoni I am Supervisory Special Agent Walker of the FBI, I have a warrant to search the premises, and seize specific items.” as Walker stated this, Mrs. Curtoni’s eyes curled back and her legs failed her. She landed on the marble foyer with a loud thud.



Right after the thud, a large balding man entered the foyer marching toward the agents.



Ignoring the collapsed woman Walker stepped over the body to present the warrant to the one and only Nicholas Curtoni.



“Mr. Curtoni I hav-.”



“I don’t give a fuck Walker, what did you to my wife.”



“Hey, we didn’t do anything to her; my men are going to search this house now.” Walker stated seeing a flash of panic running through Nicholas’s face for the first time, since he’d known him.



Walker knew their informant was on point, after that look, he knew The Terror of Jersey was scared.



Nicholas picked up his wife bringing her to the kitchen where he placed her in a chair. The agents were now combing through the house. Nicholas had little time; he took a marker pulling away his wife’s sleeve. He began to write a series of numbers on her arm with the word Cayman after each series.



With that he poured himself a glass of water and calmly walked to his upstairs master washroom. He knew warning his two families would do no good. After more than two decades at the head of the family, they had him and there was no escape. No escape other than the one he had in mind.



He walked into the washroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He palmed back the graying scraps of hair he had left. He gave himself one last look in the mirror. “Fifty four years.” He thought to himself.



“Fifty four years,” he whispered with intent and resolve.



He pulled back the mirror and found what he was looking for. He took out the pills and put them in his hand, preparing to swallow his death.



He stopped in his tracks upon hearing the voice of an angel ringing in his ear.



“Dad….? Dad where are you?” They’re leaving… The warrant was crap they’re going.”



Nicholas’s heart pounded in new born relief, upon hearing the words and the voice.



“I’m in here, honey.” He said with a whisper.



“Dad, are you in the washroom?” Andrea enquired.



“Where was he, why hadn’t he replied?” Andrea thought to herself.



Nicholas put his hands in his pockets releasing the lethal content next to his bill fold and a black marker. Just as he did this, a beautiful glowing woman entered, long dark hair flowing past her back, and a shapely body not for his eyes to admire jumping forward in joy. Upon seeing his baby girl, the strong giant had to fight away the oncoming tears.



He grabbed her and hugged her. “You can’t visit your ma and me no more, since you moved to Manhattan you’ve been a stranger.”



While still in his embrace she asked. “Are you okay dad?”



“I’m fine, you know me.”



“So you’re alright,” she said noticing the pill bottles and the water.



His eyes followed hers.



“You’re mom fell; I was looking for Aspirin or something.”



“Oh, well she’s better now, they’re all waiting for you.”



Andrea grabbed her dads much larger hand and began dragging him out of the washroom.



Moments later Nicholas’s mind began to normalize with thought, he used a single arm to embrace his daughters frame as they walked.



“So a few pre law courses at the University of Chicago and now you’re an expert, I told you, you should have went to law school instead of med school, you would be in your second year at Zimmerman’s firm instead…”



“Wow, you can’t just let a bad moment turn into a good one and let it be. I’m a medical resident and I’m doing well enough on my own, making decisions for myself.” She said having freed himself from his embrace.



“Well you haven’t used you’re credit cards in weeks so I know your surviving, but imagine what you would accomplish with a law degree. You just took on the biggest jack off in the FBI and won for God sakes.”



“It wasn’t me.”



“If it wasn’t you then who was it?” He asked confused, the two of them now nearing the stairs.



Andrea decided the time for a soft spoken tone had long past. She decided not to ease into it. “My boyfriend got rid of them.”



“Mathew Alberti, and you got back together?”



“No, it’s not him.”



“That’s what I figured, the boy comes from good Italian family, but he’s an absolute failure, plus the kid is the furthest thing from being a lawyer…. It better not be that money grubbing nigger you brought to your cousin’s wedding, or I swear.”



“You are so ungrateful. His name is Brian, he’s black. I don’t care if you approve or not, I love him.” Andrea left her father’s shadow, running down the chestnut stairs they had finally arrived at.



She ran down preparing to run to her man who was busy scolding a federal agent that was on the edge of bursting: Using terms like obstruction, miscarriage of justices, filling a complaint, and millions.



“They don’t even teach case studies like this in Law School. You know why, because no one’s ever been as brazenly stupid as you were.”



“Look, what do you want me to say, I’m sorry.”



“I want a written apology from you, the US Attorney and the sad sack of a judge who signed that invalid piece of crap.”



“Hey calm down pal, my agents are gone and you got my apology.” Yelled a cowering Walker, who was now failingly attempting to regain ground, Brian overshadowed him with his booming preacher’s voice and his basketball player’s height.”



“You better stop yelling and get writing, because you know what we have here. What we have here is a darling older woman and member of the Governor’s taskforce on the Arts, and the top fundraiser for the breast cancer cure.” With those final words Brian stopped and paused internally, before finding his footing again. “This beloved mother collapsed and most likely has severe brain damage, due to your callous disregard for due process and respect for carriage of just law.”



“Come on are you serious?”



“Let me tell you what I am serious about, Supervisory Special Agent Derrick K. Walker. You caused The Curtoni family undue psychological stress and very real tangible evidentiary damage. Brian said pointing out the door to the carnage of the SUV’s on the manicured lawn.”



“We’ll pay for that.”



“Yeah, you will.”



“Let’s forget the letter.”



Walker began to feel the heaviness lifting, just for Brian to drop it all back down. “If you go in and apologize to the Curtoni family publicly for violating their right to exercise their religion as promised by the Constitution, I will consider not naming you in the twenty million dollar lawsuit I intend to file.”



“Are you serious?”



Brian said nothing other than.



“Thirty million.”



“Forty Million.”



Walker didn’t need to ask, he knew what the incremental increase and the numbers meant. He reluctantly decided to comply, his reasoned mind which had left him for much of the day had returned. He decided to follow the pointing finger of Brian.



Brian smiled as he ran into Andrea, she tip toed up giving him a kiss, which said there’s more for you later baby.



That’s when Brian noticed the big cheese.



“Merry Christmas Mr. Curtoni, I’m Brian Cargill”



Andrea right then remembered she had forgotten to tell her father Merry Christmas, she was in no mood to do it now.



“Thanks.” Nicholas mumbled, ignoring Brian’s extended hand.



Brian had expected a little more appreciation than that. “I just saved your ass, you crooked fuck,” Brian thought to himself.

“With your permission I’d like to file the complaint in court, preparing the lawsuit against the Justice Department.”



“Thanks, you got lucky kid I appreciate it; but my people are better suited from here.” Nicholas passed his daughter and Brian, making his way to the dining room.”



“Your dad’s a piece of work.” Brian whispered.



“Sorry you had to save me again, Bri,” she said tiptoeing up giving him a short kiss.



“I’d walk through hell for you, with not a single regret.”



Nicholas was stunned walking into the dining room, filled with his business family and blood family, to see the infamous Derrick Walker, in his dining room, singing apologies like he was some sort of elf.



“Nicholas I’m sorry, for any undue stress I may have caused.” Walker said preparing to exit.



“You fucking better, you merda!” Someone yelled out followed by, “Idiota”, “figlio di puttana.”



“Ey, calm down everybody the man has apologized.” Nicholas said trying to project calm.



“I don’t care; this dumb fuck, ruined Ma’s day,” Nicholas jnr. argued.



“Nick, that’s your father, your goanna listen him,” rebuffed one of the many guests in the room.



Walker walked out, but his pride couldn’t be sobered. He whispered to Nicholas using his tallest pose. “This was just the first time, your lawsuit is shit just like you and this barbarian clan you call a family.”



“Get out and off my property, now!” Nicholas said yelling at Walker.



Walker passed Brian and Andrea kissing in the hall and gave him a sly smile. Once again he couldn’t help himself.



“You’re a smart kid, I’m not afraid to admit it you found more holes in that warrant than I knew were in that piece of crap. I respect you so I’ll give you one warning. Get away fast or you’ll burn with the lot of them. Not even the tightest pussy is worth that.”



“Excuse me?” Brian said bearing down on Walker, Nichols. Jnr walking by blocked the angered Brian.



“Calm down Brian.” Andrea said a sentiment quickly echoed by her brother, both of them now restraining the tall Brian.



“You’re going to regret that!” Brian stated angrily.



“Oh, I’m scared.”



“I shouldn’t, but my new watch should frighten you a bit, it was gift from a tech startup that couldn’t afford to pay me at first but once they started turning a profit they not only paid me but gave me this gadget.”



“Nice watch, so what? Asked Walker looking at the bulbous time piece, his enquiries were answered when he started hearing his voice playing back.



Walker’s eyes widened to the point of popping out, he felt shooting pain running throughout his entire body.



“Eighty Million,” shot Brian. Walker trudged his feet fighting the urge of his ready, clenched fists.



“That’s illegal; I didn’t consent,” Walker said in his defense.



“One party consent state,” Brian countered with a smile



Walker simply turned away mumbling under his breath. “Outside the cavalry had long gone. The plumbing decoy van was still there with a smirking Eric and a somber looking agent Davis.”



Walker approached the two with a grunt.



“Johnnie Cochran eh?” Laughed Eric. That was the last straw. Walker snapped, recoiling back, slamming it into Eric’s jaw.”



Davis had to restrain Walker.



Walker found his calm, saying, “Hey Eric I’m sorry, it’s just been a tough day.”



Even with the knockout punch Eric was still laughing. Even when the van was well enough away from the estate Eric was still giggling away.



Then Walker herd his phone ring, it was the Section Chief’s direct number. It was never good when your boss’es bosse’s called you after you just messed up.



It was Christmas, Agent Walker decided to simply ignore the call.



—–



Back in the dining room, all seemed to continue as though the FBI hadn’t just attempted to storm the Curtoni fortress.



Brian entered the opulent dining room hand in hand with Andrea, where she introduced him to her different uncle’s, blood related and some not so much.



Something that they all had in common was that they all asked for Brian’s card, in which he promptly dispensed to the objection of Andrea, who gave him her patent pending ‘stop that,’ look. At which point he made a show of running out of cards.



“This is my uncle Michael, my mom’s brother.”



Michael tried to give Brian a shoulder slap to say good job, but instead accidentally smacked the side of his upper body, causing Brian to wince in pain.



“Are you okay, is it acting up, do you need to go?” Andrea said with grave concern to which Brian replied.



“Calm down I’m fine”



“Are you sure?”



“Positive.” He assured.



Moments later Brian took his assigned seat directly across from Andrea. The two of them seated next to Nicholas’s head seat. Brian was seated right next to Alex, Andrea’s younger brother and Andrea was seated next to Nicholas jnr. her older brother.



As the time to eat the Italian American feast arrived, like a flip of a switch all at the table had etched on their best Hollywood smiles. Recent events were ignored as if nothing had happened. Mrs. Curtoni opened the dining table up for all to feast, with words of tremendous thanks, and greeting.



Andrea kept constant eye contact on Brian, creating a sense of silent dialogue. Nicholas’s odd glances went unnoticed by the pair.



“Brian, what Manhattan firm do I need to bill your services to?” Nicholas asked.



“No need, Mr. Curtoni.”



“The initiative will give you a leg up at work, with the bosses.”



“Mr. Curtoni, its fine.”



Nicholas wouldn’t take no for answer, pulling out his bill fold splaying out countless bills on the table.



Wow Brian thought to himself.



“Dad, put your money back you’re being rude, and Brian is his own boss.” Andrea declared with a proud smile.



“At the wedding you told me, someone told me, he worked at a firm.”



“It is a firm, a small firm, I have about twenty five, employee’s, ten of them are attorneys like myself.”



“You own your own firm, are you joking?” Nicholas asked with a snicker that silenced the room.



Brian once again ignored the insult.



“Dad!” Andrea interjected.



“What?’ What’d I say?”



“For the record, Brian’s very smart. Back at the University of Chicago, most people didn’t notice, because he stayed there for Law School and was always on campus.”



“Andrea,” Brian said, attempting to end the embarrassing conversation.



“Brian graduated a year early undergrad staying at U Chicago for law. He then went onto intern at Greene & Whitney, but decided not to accept their offer of full employment.”



“Bu-” Nicholas tried to interject.



“The first year starting his one man operation in New York was rocky. I’m the one that encouraged him to take the divorce case of a housewife from the Hampton’s, since not enough corporate clients were coming in.”



“Andrea…” Brian began to say before being cut down by Andrea once again.



Brian simply smiled, looking into her beautiful brown eyes while she continued. “Long story short, thanks’ to Brian she got seventy percent of her cheating husband’s assets. The cherry on top is that the multimillion dollar condo her husband used to cheat became hers. Being that she couldn’t stomach it and wanted to spite her husband she gave it to Brian as a bonus, for his good work. He then sold it and that’s how he financed his firm.”



The long table began to fill with chatter as the men checked their wallets the cards were emblazoned with Cargill and associates.



Nicholas didn’t say a thing for the rest of the meal, which caused both Andrea and Brian to wear smiles for the rest of the meal. However it didn’t last long as those in the room trickled out and soon regrouped in the great room. Brian looked on at the splendor of the fifteen foot Christmas tree in the far right side of the room.



The two lovers, with their bodies entwined, sat on a couch together, while people mingled around them.



Alex, who took a seat next to Brian, tried to assure Brian with. “Dad’s going to get used to you, he’s like that with everyone.”



“Sure.” replied Brian.



“Alex is right Bri, dad’s always been a little rough around the edges. He’ll come around,” Andrea chimed in.



“I guess,” Brian agreed. “I’m going to bathroom.” Brian said lifting his long frame.



Alex stood up as well. “I’ll show Brian where the washroom is.”



Nearing the washroom Brian stopped and turned to Alex. “Okay, we’re alone now; Alex I know something’s on your mind, what’s up?”



“What do you mean?”



“The reason you’re so eager to show me to the washroom?”



“Nothing….”



“Don’t worry, just ask me?”



“I wanted to know if I could use your apartment…”



“To get laid?” Brian said laughing.



“Shhh… You know what forget it, sorry for asking.”



“What about your brother’s house, he lives….” Brian stopped mid-sentence remembering why that was unrealistic.



“Don’t worry its fine Brian.”



“Shut up, look, unlike any one else I understand.” Brian said pulling out his keys, looking for a particular one.



“My sister can’t know.”



“Okay, but you know your sister and I live together, so she’s gonna need to know.”



Alex’s face was an indicator that he didn’t.



“If my dad knew… if my dad knew he would explode. I mean, I’m fine with it Nick. Jnr and possibly mom too.” Alex said, whispering.



“Yeah I know.” Brian said handing Alex the key. “I’ll worry about that later.”



Alex gave him a look that said, good luck with that bud, leaving Brian to stew with his thoughts.



On his way back to the gathering room, Alex saw Andrea coming from the foyer bogged down with tons of presents. Alex rushed to help his sister before she dropped the boxes.



“Why didn’t Nick jnr. help you?”



“I didn’t remember that there were so many. Here, carry this and this,” she handed him the gifts,” the top one is yours.”



“Thanks, yeah I didn’t get you anything.”



“Wasn’t really expecting anything from you,” she said with a ball breaking chuckle.



Alex didn’t have time for a response as the two of them reentered the great room, where Andrea handed off the gifts she and Brian had bought.



Alex opened his present finding an Ipad which stunned both him and Andrea. “I told him nothing over a hundred dollars; Christ I wonder what he got dad.” Andrea thought, before recalling that Brian had intended on buy cigars.



Although intrigued, Alex put down his new toy and went over to his sister pulling her to the far side of the room.



“You two moved in together? Dad and mom and all of us thought you moved in with your friends from med school.”



“Why? Are you mad, or something?”



“I’m not mad. Well, yes, I am; we talk nearly every week. You tell me everything, but you couldn’t tell me that?”



“Yeah, like I tell you everything,” Andrea said with laughter.



“When I came to visit you in Chicago, he was the only one of your friends that treated me like an adult. I like him, you know I do, so you could have at least old me. the fuck Andrea?”



“You’re mad?”



“Of course not, I’m happy for you; I just wish you’d told me.”



She gave her brother a full hug, “Don’t let dad find out Brian and I are living together. Okay?”



Before Alex could assure his sister, the deep voice of their father echoed from behind them. “



Alex’s pupils widened and went from left to right, from his big sister ready to stand her ground, to a fuming father. His dad’s stare bore down on him, causing young Alex to scurry off.



Nicholas held in his rage long enough to get his daughter into the next room, through a side door. “The fuck you and that bingo-bongo mother fucker playing house, now?”



“I’m not taking your bullshit. I love him. We live together and that’s all.”



“The fuck it is!” Nicholas yelled, his left hand catapulting a porcelain vase across the room. Andrea was undeterred; she was as stubborn as he was.



Mrs. Curtoni entered the room angrier than the two unmovable objects. “We’ve got guests out there wondering what’s going on in here.”



“Patricia calm the fuck down, I’m only trying to put some common sense in your daughter’s head.” Nicholas said attempting to manage a losing situation.



“What you’re doing is telling me how to live my life!” Andrea barked.



Closing in on his daughter Nicholas stressed his point further. “When times get rough is he going to be there for you? No, he isn’t.”



“Yes he will!” Andrea said entering her father’s sphere, drawing her line in the sand, as tears began to roll down her face.”



“No he fucking won’t! You think he’s going to stick his neck out for you? You think he’d risk his neck for you?”



“I know he will, because he has.”



“Ahhh, bullshit! Your family will and you need to choose now.”



“Nicholas! Mrs. Curtoni yelled.” “Andrea your father just a bit angry, a lot has happened today.”



“You’re a real asshole; don’t call me… you can guess who I chose!”



To the beating tears of her mother and the stunned look of her father, the door slammed behind Andrea. Her mind and body united in her uncompromised resolve.



Bypassing all her gawking relatives including her brothers, she ran into Brian in the hallway.



“Hey, baby what’s wrong, did they not like the presents?”



“I just want to head out now, okay Bri.”



“Well just let me say goodbye.”



“Please Bri, now.”



Brian saw on her face, the immediate need to be somewhere else.



With nothing else said, he cradled her walking in the flurry filled sky, making their way to the Cherokee.



She closed her eyes and rested on his shoulder as they drove through the now snowcapped night.



Brian drove through the unusually quiet Holland tunnel. Their day coming to an end as the Cherokee descended into the underground garage of their Soho condo.



Brian felt content as he carried Andrea’s peaceful angelic body through the doors of their comfortably sized home in the sky. Brian tucked her away carefully resting next to her.



—-



Within an hour of the verbal explosion the final guests were leaving the New Jersey estate. Mrs. Curtoni, smiled waving to the final vehicle, away. When the front door closed her smile inverted.



“Alex is gone, we’re all alone, what you do you say Patricia?” Mr. Curtoni said, rubbing his hand on his wife’s shoulder, following behind her as she began walking up the long stairs.



“What the hell was that, earlier?” She questioned angrily, shaking off his advance, walking ahead of him toward the master bedroom.



“I called Zimmerman. He’s going to handle everything.”



“That was a massive fuck up, but I’m talking about the way you treated Brian.”



“Don’t start with me, Patricia!”



“You need to apologize.”



“Apologize?! Don’t you, dictate moral bullshit to me! You, of all people with your high expectations for her, you’re worse than me.”



“He’s a good kid.”



“So he’s a black kid that comes from a rich family, this merda about him working hard and building his own firm is a joke.”



“His parents weren’t rich. No one is out to deceive you, and he’s a good kid.”



“Whatever, okay he’s smart and makes his own green he should have spent Christmas with his parents… ha, but I bet he can’t because Mr. Affirmative action’s parents are either dead or locked up.”



Mrs. Curtoni was speechless for a second, her throat choking up. “Wow when did you become such a cold old man? Your daughter trusted me enough to tell me, his parents are dead.”



Mr. Curtoni’s face was now flushed with schadenfruende. Before he could speak his wife continued.



“I’m going to say this then, I need you to sleep somewhere else,” she said standing at the entryway to their bedroom. “His dad was killed by a drunk driver his first year of college, along with his younger brother. His Mom died a few months ago of breast cancer, and that doesn’t include his other younger brother who was killed in Iraq.”



Mr. Curtoni stood speechless.



“Apologize to your daughter, Nicholas.” Mrs. Curtoni said closing the door.



The burden laden, Nicholas, even with the soft comforts of the guestroom couldn’t come to rock himself to sleep. Unable to sleep his eyelids blinked away well into dawn.



When he awoke his wife wasn’t at her regular station, slaving away behind his breakfast, and the maids had the holiday off. He made himself a culatello and mozzarella sandwich taking less than small bites.



Through that day and the days that followed Patricia Curtoni downright ignored her husband. Even when Alex returned from his sleepover he too treated Nicholas with disdain, although he was a lot nicer about it than his mother was.



It was two days after New Year’s, Nicholas hadn’t slept in his bed in over a week; he was sitting around the breakfast table with Alex. “So I get it the kid’s been through a lot, but no one seems to see it from my point of view, except for your sister we’ve only known him a couple weeks.”



“I met Brian back when I first visited Andrea at college, every time I visited. He and I would hangout, he’s the reason…’



“It’s because of him, what?”



“Nothing.”



“No, what?”



Getting up from the table Alex continued. “He brought me to parties is all, looking at him he comes off as this guy that doesn’t know how to have fun but, but he’s really pretty chill.”



“I don’t get it?”



“He treated me like I was a regular person, unlike Andrea that locked me away in her apartment. He brought me to parties and that’s how I… hooked up with for the first time.” Alex said getting uncomfortable with the subject he started.



“When you say hooked up.”



“Dad I’m not talking to you about sex.”



Nicholas got up out of his seat wearing a proud smile. “I haven’t seen you bring a girl by in a year; I thought you still hadn’t, you know, been laid.”



“Dad!”



“You always did seem happier after visiting Chicago.”



Nicholas smiled, rubbing his son’s hair, while a nervous look arose on Alex’s face. Nicholas didn’t notice it.



Mrs. Curtoni walked in right then and Nicholas dropped his smile simply running his hand through his son’s hair.



“We haven’t hung out in a while, we should do something soon.”



“We’ll see.”



“Humph,” Mrs. Curtoni mumbled.



“Okay, enough. I’m going to see her now. Hell, right now, okay? So you two can end your combined bullshit, I’m gonna apologize. You two are worse than the FBI.”



“Good. I baked her favorite cookies,” Mrs. Curtoni said, heading for the fridge, pulling out a large plastic container. “Oh, and she told me Brian loves Braciola, so here’s the recipe. Tell her I’ll come over there one day, to teach her,” Mrs. Curtoni said, giving her husband a parting kiss.



“We can do something this weekend, dad,” Alex said, lifting the embargo.



—–



“Andrea?” Brian said announcing his presence as he walked through the door. “Andrea baby, I’m home?” He said, smelling the distinctive burnt meat hanging in the air.



Andrea came into the hallway wearing a robe and a pout. “I had planned a nice lunch for you, but I misjudged the time for putting in veal.”



“It’s okay; at least you’re a better doctor than a cook.” He said, embracing her.



“That’s not funny.”



“I kid, you know me.”



“Yeah, I know. I made you a club sandwich instead.”



“You didn’t need to do that.”



“I know I didn’t, that’s why I like doing it.”



During the embrace she spotted the bouquet of flowers Brian had set down on the hallway table, before entering further.



“You remembered? Our two month anniversary.”



“I remembered nothing and I know not of which you speak.” Brian said with a smirk.



She turned around and gave him a glance. When she picked up the bouquet of tulips she began to tear up. “Nine years ago and you remember tulips are my favorite, I only said it once.”



“Hey, how could I forget?” Brian said as she picked up the bouquet finally noticing the single red rose in the middle of the sea of yellow.



Her face was glowing like a rising sun as she tore open the note; she smiled and leaped on top of her man wrapping her legs around his waist.

“I thought we were having lunch,” he said in between her pecks.



“I thought so too but then you had to go be you. My surprise can’t wait.”



He entered the master bedroom spotting the silver stripper’s pole, his eyes did a double take. It sure as hell wasn’t there when he left home that morning.



Now embraced behind him she whispered into his ear. “I haven’t been taking mandarin classes. I’ve actually been taking pole dancing to surprise you, happy two month anniversary baby. Just sit over there,” She said pointing her speechless boyfriend to the armchair near the curtained window.



She dropped the robe revealing a decadent red bra and panty set.



“Lord,” Brian said in a hushed voice, adjusting himself as he stared at the bra that was accentuating her bust. With Brian distracted by her chest, she slipped into the crimson red Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps.



With a touch of a remote, music began to pulse from the rooms Bose speakers. She closed her eyes extending her right hand out to the pole gripping it and circling it twice, with the music starting out soft at first. Her body started to limber up as the pace of the quickened. Her body matched the music’s ever increasing tempo. Like an expert she pulled herself onto the beam smooth legs rubbing against the metal, his eyes were hostages to her every shift and subtle thrust.



Brian felt as if he was in at a strip club behind Andrea’s back. Whenever he would adjust his comfort level, she would get increasingly spirited, climbing the pole. Brian searched in himself for an explanation for why his girlfriend was able to be hanging upside down a stripper pole outside of one month’s of classes.



He quickly reasoned a childhood of ballet classes was the undeniable culprit. Her ass bubbled shaking in front of him, his hand lowered to his lap bypassing his rigid member, instead venturing inside his pocket where his finger’s combed over the small blue velvet box. He decided that this was definitely not the time for that.



His hand soon left his pocket moving toward his zipper, taking out his cock in hand. Stroking it as he cast longing stares at his high performing girlfriend. She looked back locking eyes with him while licking her full lips.



“You want my lips around that?” She said as her body swayed with every step. She slowly melted to the floor crawling on her knees toward her man; she took his long shaft in her small hands taking each ball into her mouth. Brian grunted unmercifully loud as his girlfriend perfected a technique that she’d been working on for two months.



Taking his head into her mouth she moved slowly, going up and down licking the underside of his length with longing dedication. Her brown pupils fixed on his linking his pleasure spurring on hers. Her tiny thin fingers working his shaft without relent. His head fell back.



“God I’m so fucking close,” he warned.



She heeded his warning, her own way, her mouth picking up speed and tightening around his shaft just before pulling back at which she reluctantly closed her eyes.



After the first burst came a quick second and third, at which her mouth opened and she accepted her reward. The two now stood at the hallway leading to the condo’s front door, Andrea in her robe, her chest and neck clear of sperm. With a club sandwich in hand Brian stood at the doorway reluctant to head back to work, he gave her a long deep hunger driven kiss, with his club sandwich in hand he was ready to leave. “I love you and I’ll see you in a week.”



“Do you really need to go on the business trip Bri? Can’t you tell the client to go to Hong Kong another time?”



“Ha! No one wants to do that more than I do.” He said while his hands ran down her robe from her waist, down to cup her buttocks.



“How about we stay right here and fuck all afternoon, I don’t have a shift at the hospital until morning, what do you say?”



“Hummh,” he said fighting himself while she chuckled. “I Love you baby, I’ll see you in a week,” he said kissing her on the cheek.



“Love you too, Bri. Did you pack everything you needed, this morning? I’ll go check the closet to see if you forgot anything. Did you check the temperature over there?”



“I have everything, I’ll be fine.”



With one last kiss he was out the door. But not for long as twenty seconds later a knock came to the door, just exited door.



Andrea answered it after locking her robe extra tight. A glowing smile hung from her face. “Change your mind decided to blow off work and the trip?” She asked playing with him.



Brian didn’t say anything he just looked into her eyes and handed her an envelope,



“What’s this?” she asked as she took it from him. “What’s this?” she asked once again, pulling out a Cathay Pacific, boarding pass for JFK to Hong Kong International, Business class. She reacted with stunned pause.



Brian took this to mean, yes. “After work I’ll send one of the client’s cars to pick you up and I’ve changed the schedule so we can spend time together while where there. We can spend a lot of time together.”



“I can’t. I have back to back shifts at the hospital starting tomorrow, I’m sorry, Bri.” She said with genuine teary eyes.



“Come on, Andrea?”



“Bri, I’m so sorry.”



“Pleeaase?” Brian begged embracing Andrea.



She laughed her lips muttering, doing double takes as her mind jumped for no, to yes to maybe back to no, “this was so sweet Bri, I’m so sorry.” She said, her eyelids arched downwards with her apology.



Brian kissed her good bye; they exchanged I love you again but this time on a sadder note.



Twenty seconds later a knock came to the door again. “Im sorry Bri, I thought of every option, it’s impossible for me to skip out on my residency, there’s no one to cover for me.”



“What’s it he want you to do?” asked Nicholas Curtoni.



Andrea’s smile withered away at the sight of her father. She tried to slam the door in his face. He was quick to prevent it when his boot, blocked the closure.



“Look calm down; you’re worse than your Ma.”



“If you think so, do yourself a favor and leave.”



“Look! Look, honey I’m here to apologize.”



“Sure, you are, just leave.”



“Of course I’m serious, why would I drag my ass through all that traffic if I wasn’t, just give me a chance.”



She gave him a keen stare after which she opened the door enough for her father, to creep through. Nicholas stepped in surveying the spacious condominium.



“Are you going you going to apologize to Brian, too?”



“Hey, nothing was ever said to him.”



“Are you going to apologize to the man I’m going to marry, someday.” Andrea said testing the true nature of her father’s visit. He held back his intended facial expression and held his tongue, not knowing if she was pushing his buttons or speaking her minds intent.



“Yes I’ll apologize to him, but I’m assuming he’s not here.”



“Correct, he’s at work for next few hours before his trip.”



“Then, ah, I’ll stop by his office after here.”



“You mean it?”



“Of course.”



“Ain’t it late to be getting out of bed,” Nicholas remarked to his daughter. At which point her face turned to a flowery red.



Walking through the hallway, and into the kitchen he began to admire the apartment. “Nice space you guys have here, I wouldn’t have been able to afford this at his age.” Nicholas remarked before his nose took over, “Andrea have you been cooking?” he asked with a laugh.



“It’s not funny, I almost had it.”



“Your mother told me to bring these for you.” Nicholas said putting the bag on the Kitchens granite countertop, next to a brochure for homes in Westchester.



Nicholas flinched as he recalled his daughter’s words about marrying Brian.



Andrea began to rifle through the bags taking out a drastically reduced container of cookies.



She gave her father a knowing look.



“Sorry it was a long drive.” He responded picking up the brochure accusingly.



“What is this; you two are buying a house, in the suburbs? What, to start a family?”



“Probably, if you have a problem you can leave now.”



“I don’t,” he lied. “Has he asked you to marry him?”



“No… thinking about it, he was probably going to,” she said pausing mid-sentence.



“Going to what? When? What?”



“He invited me to go with him on an important business trip to China, but I said no, because of my work at the hospital; He was probably going to do it then.”



“Andrea, I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand. I’m sorry about what I said on Christmas, but I really don’t get this. The kid is great, but it seems like you had years to like him; what changed a few months ago? Why now?”



Right then, Andrea realized she had underestimated her father. He was smarter than he looked and wasn’t the type of guy you could keep secrets from. He had that Colombo ability.



“Nothing changed.”



“You’re lying. Back at the house you made it seem like something happened.”



Andrea sat down on the kitchen chair, her father sat across from her.



“What is it, you can trust me?”



“Nothing happened!”



“So you met Brian at college first year, good kid, you like him, well enough, but you’re not interested in him. He comes to New York six years later and nearly three years goes by. Both of you are successful, twenty seven year olds who remain friends then what… you go color blind?”



“His race was never a problem! Get out!” She yelled, shooting up on her feet.



“Bullshit!”



“Get out, now!”



“Sit down, Andrea,” he demanded.” I want answers. Something happened; you have everyone else fooled, but not me. Is it his sudden success?”



“Are you calling your own daughter a gold-digger?”



“Don’t put words in my mouth; I never said shit about money.”



“But that’s what you want to say, isn’t it?”



“I just want the truth honey, please. I’m your father, trust me.” He sighed deeply running his hand through his hair. “Just trust me.”



With that, she collapsed into her father’s arms, whispering almost unintelligibly, “If it wasn’t for Brian, he would have killed me that night.”



Nicholas’s heart began to beat faster, his ears burning; he held his murderous rage at bay.



“Go on honey, its okay, you can tell me what happened?”



“Brian and I promised we wouldn’t tell anyone.”



“Andrea, honey?” Nicholas begged, his eyes filling with concerned moisture.



Before words even left her mouth, tears began to swim down her face. “I was walking to my car in the parking lot at the hospital one night, when a guy in a ski mask snuck up behind me…”



Nicholas attempted to calm Andrea, while he did the same for himself.



“He had a revolver. I didn’t have time to react daddy, I didn’t.”



Nicholas hushed her back to a state of calm.



“I gave him the keys thinking that’s what he wanted. I offered him all my money, but his hand went over my mouth; I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t get away; I really tried.” Tears streamed from her eyes as her father wiped them away.



“Next thing I knew, I’m in the back of a van.” Andrea mumbled through her controlled tears



“It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. I’m here for you, Andrea,” Nicholas said holding her tight as if she was his little girl again.



“I was in the back of his van; he tied me up, covered my mouth with tape… that’s when he took of his mask and I knew he was going to kill me. I can’t continue, okay dad?”



Nicholas was filled with a thousand thoughts, was whatever this was backlash against my business, was someone trying to hurt me? He questioned himself. No he needed to know, he tried his whole life to keep business away from home.



“Please Andrea, I know how hard this is, but please for me… I need to know if this was my fault. I need to know,” he said.



“It wasn’t.” She replied sobbing.



“Just please, continue. I’m sorry but I need to know.”



Finding the resolve to continue, Andrea explained her life’s darkest moment. “I tried to break the zip ties, but I hadn’t gotten anywhere by the time the van stopped. It was dark and all around me were giant trees. I later found out it was Rockefeller State Park. All there was around were trees and a small greenhouse like structure. He dragged me to the structure showing me a hole he dug and… and a… wood chipper.”



Nicholas’s eyes set ablaze. He wanted to hold his little girl and never let her go.



Andrea took a deep breath, now finding strength in being able to tell the story.



“He showed it to me for assurance, that to resist was useless; he cut off my zip ties, the tape… everything. I began to yell, and then he let out a long bellowing scream to let me know that in all the darkness that consumed us both, I was all alone. I was able to knock him over and escape at one point, but he took joy at pulling me back and holding me down.”



“Stop, Andrea stop!”



“You wanted to hear it.”



“I can’t!”



“You will.” She said, now standing dominantly over her father.



“He held me down, his wrinkly fingers pulling off my scrubs. I screamed fruitlessly for minutes, as this disgusting middle aged man ripped my underwear away.”



“Andrea, stop now!



“Shut up and listen!”



“Just as he prepared to do as he intended, the light of shelter illuminated, a dripping figure appearing in view to me, but behind the creature. I think he paused when he noticed it was me. I could see the anger build up in Brian when he saw my eyes. The man saw my eyes and his gaze and followed them. Just as Brian took aim at him with a giant rock, the man took out his revolver and shot Brian in the side.”



“Brian s…” Nicholas began to say.



“I got free from under his weight and grabbed for the gun; by the time I did, the man was unconscious. Brian had bashed his head in with the rock, and wasn’t slowing down. I don’t know why, but, even though I knew this, I just had to shoot the creature. I shot him once in the stomach. The recoil of the gun threw me in the air. I wanted to fire every last bullet into that rapist son of a bitch.



“Why didnt you call me after it all happened, Andrea, are yo-.”



“I’m fine. We couldn’t tell anyone. After going through his pockets for the keys we found an NYPD captains badge. He investigates rapes, I….”



Nicholas felt numb as he listened to his daughter’s confession. Andrea’s tears turned into anger, anger for being forced into sharing something so personal.



“I tried to look after Brian, but he kept telling me he was fine. He fought against the pain and lifted the body into the wood chipper. We filled the hole, I patched up Brian, and he ditched the van, end of story. Happy now? “



Nicholas sat stunned as his daughter went to make coffee.



“I…. I don’t know what to say.”



“Just don’t say anything then.”



“He saved your life, that’s why?” Nicholas asked his composure returning to him.



Andrea turned to her father sternly. “In that moment, I made the opposite decision that he made after it. During the moment, I saw his soul. He, however, resolved that I was being emotional and even though he had feelings for me, it took me a month and a half to convince him. I don’t owe him anything; I love him more than I can say.”



Nicholas’s mind was swimming after he left his daughter’s Soho condo. He drove up to Midtown, stopping at one of the many tall towers. To say his opinion of Brian had changed would be an understatement, he felt as if he owed him.



The pressing question on Nicholas Curtoni’s mind as he got up to the top to the twentieth floor of the Midtown building getting off of the elevator, how did Brian get to the park and why had he been there in the first place. As the elevator doors opened, the words Cargill and Associates were emblazoned in front of him. In a sign of strange humility ‘Cargill’ was far less emblazoned than ‘Associates’.



Nicholas arrived at the office surprised by the buzz of activity.



“Can I speak with Brian, Mr. Cargill?” Nicholas asked the polished looking young blonde behind the reception desk.



She typed into her computer and looked at the computer screen. “May I ask who you are and what it’s about?”



“I’m… he’s my future son. He’s my daughter’s boyfriend.”



“Mr. Curtoni then… he’s in the conference room, making last minute changes for the Hong Kong trip. He’ll be out in a few minutes.”



“Thanks’ I’ll wait.” Nicholas said heading for one of the seats by the reception desk



“Follow me; you can wait in his office.” The blonde said waving him forward with her perfectly manicured fingers. Nicholas followed the conservatively dressed but shapely blonde to the large office.



“Thank you.” Nicholas said.



She began to walk out before, she turned on her elegant heals toward Nicholas: “I didn’t ask would you like anything something to drink, Pellegrino, Tea, Espresso, wine?”



“No, thank you.” Nicholas said, unfazed by her beauty. He was on a mission. “Are you sure? Mr. Cargill has some Château Margaux hidden away for important clients.”



Alone in the commanding office Nicholas took a look around. An advertising poster for the University of Chicago hung behind his chair. Nicholas was surprised to see his daughter’s picture; she’d told him nothing about that. Then there were other pictures of his daughter on Brian’s desk.



Further around the office were pictures of Brian with movers and shakers. Then Nicholas found himself in the office’s inner washroom, he heard someone come in at which point he took a leak to avoid suspicion. He looked in the mirror at himself, wetted his hands and slicked back his gray scraps. Then a light bulb went off in his head, he opened the cabinet, finding the anti-depressant medication. It hadn’t given Nicholas joy to put the pieces together.



Nicholas walked out of the washroom, spotting Brian right away busy away behind his desk on the phone. He held a finger up in the air at Nicholas telling him one minute.



“That’s going to need to be five, now,” Brian said to the person at the other end of the phone. “My experience doesn’t matter. “My firm has the facts. My PI’s have video, not pictures but perfectly admissible video.” Another pause, “Don’t make me go to ten.” Another pause, “nice talking with you, Tom.”



Brian’s face turned for the worst after he got off the phone. “I’m just about to rush home because you made Andrea re-live that moment again. What’s your problem?”



“I had a right to know.”



“You have no such, right. She’s not thirteen.”



“Brian, let’s stop this. I just want to say thank you. You saved my daughter’s life; there is nothing I can say.”



“I love her, I did it for her. I don’t need or want your thanks.”



“I know,” Nicholas said, his eyes looking down at his shoes.



Brian packed up his MacBook and began putting on his Jacket. “You’re never going to understand.”



“I think outside of my daughter. I’m probably one of the few that do.”



“That night, I bet that was just a few days after your mom died.”



“Yes, so what?”



“She was the last of your family.”



“So?”



“You tried to kill yourself that night, the bridge in the park you jumped off of it, but climbed out of the water down river to see….”



Brian fell back into his seat.



If the color could it would have left his dark face, it would have. “How’d you know?” Brian asked. “Andrea wouldn’t have told you that. I know she wouldn’t.”



Nicholas threw the pill bottle at Brian. “We both take the same medication.”



The two of them sat in the chairs for the next two hours chatting. Brian brought out a bottle of wine. The two laughed and Nicholas questioned Brian about the receptionist.



“Is she like that with everyone?”



“She’s just bubbly… you are married?” Brian replied.



“You could set her up with Alex.”



Brian gave Nicholas a look, and then said. “Yes, sure, why not?”



Brian and Nicholas walked out of the office a little later talking like old pals.



“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” Nicholas enquired.



“I gave it to one of my Attorney’s to cover. It’s not that important right now.”



Nicholas looked on in amazement.



“What?” Brian asked.

© 2013 ChicosTodos. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Author.



This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.



If you are a minor, or if it is illegal for you to read material containing sexual activity between male adults, please refrain from reading any further.




—–



—–



Danny awoke with a start.



“Mom??” He remembered chopped chives, scrambled eggs solidifying in a skillet, and a shining butcher knife raised high.



It took him a moment to get his bearings. The alarm clock was beeping.



No, his mom wasn’t chasing Roberto around the kitchen table with a butcher knife. That was just a dream.



As Danny’s emotions calmed and reality set in, he reminded himself of the day’s events. He wasn’t looking forward to the presentation that Friday morning, his first one. The copywriter hated public speaking; he thought he’d successfully steered clear of that by choosing a career in writing. Even though he was prepared, slides all made and notes all done, he was still worried about what everyone would think of him.



But he had something to look forward to after work as well, hopefully two things. The first was the surprise visit he planned for his mechanic boyfriend, to spice up his extra-long day at work.



The second was spending the night at Roberto’s place, where they can sleep in a bit Saturday morning before the mechanic started work at noon.



Of course, there was a technicality to take care of: Danny’s parents didn’t know he was going to sleep over, yet.



For all he knew, his mom and dad might’ve thought that he hadn’t had sex with Roberto yet. The two times he’d slept over at his boyfriend’s since they become monogamous recently, Danny told them he was sleeping over at his best friend Richie’s. Now, he was going to tell them he planned to stay over at Roberto’s. What would they think of their good little boy?



And then there was his relationship with Richie. He hadn’t had a meaningful talk, or really hung out with Richie in months. That was a whole other issue, and Danny didn’t know how to deal with it.



He got up and looked out the bedroom window. Heavy rain outside, whipping across the glass pane under fierce winds. Walking downstairs to the kitchen, he saw his dad Pierre turning back and forth between the stove, the fridge, and his iPhone in quick, hurried steps.



“Bonjour, papa,” Danny said, sliding into a kitchen chair.



Pierre looked up at him and smiled. “Bonjour Danny…your mother’s feeling a little bit sick, so I’m making breakfast this morning.”



“Is she okay?” his son asked.



“Her stomach’s a little bit sensitive from the feast last night. Don’t worry; I’ve got this all under control…” His father pulled open a drawer and started digging through the clanging utensils. “The measuring cup, where is it?”



“I dunno…” Danny replied, getting up to help his dad. The two men rummaged through a few more drawers, then went up to the cupboards until they finally found the cup. They both chuckled at how useless they were without Ms. Yeung.



“Sit down,” Pierre urged, pouring flour into the plastic cup. Danny went back to the kitchen table, delighted that he was going to have freshly made pancakes for breakfast.



“And tell me more about Roberto.”



Danny’s face fell. His father sensed Danny’s tension.



“He seems to be an interesting guy.”



“…yeah,” Danny replied, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge.



“Certainly smart and hardworking. And good-looking. I’m surprised your mom hasn’t mentioned him before.”



“Really? She was so sure he was gonna ruin my life,” his son answered, pouring milk into a glass.



Pierre thought for a moment, stirring the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt in a bowl. “…this is the same guy, Roberto, the seducer?” He thought for a moment. “Mais oui…it makes sense now.”



“What do you mean?” Danny asked, looking at his dad.



“Your mom and I talked last night about you and your new boyfriend,” Pierre responded, mixing eggs and milk together in a separate bowl. “She was worried. That’s normal, for her. She had her heart broken before…”



“What??” his son exclaimed, eager to hear about a part of his mom’s life that he never heard about, ever.



“Mais oui…and she’s worried the same heartbreak will happen to you. But you know what I told her?” Pierre shot a glance at his son before mixing the dry and wet ingredients together.



“I said, ‘Danny, he’s a young man now. He’s always been a good boy, because we raised him up well. Now, we have to trust him to make his own decisions. He has to do that, in order to grow up to be a good man.”



Danny felt a lump in his throat. “And…what did mom say?”



Pierre did an over-the-top impersonation of his dramatic wife, bringing a wide smile to his son’s face. “Oh, you know, blah blah blah, ‘but Roberto’s a bad bad man’….and I said, ‘You liked him a lot during dinner’.”



“She did?” Danny asked, hopeful.



“Bien sûr. He was so charming, so friendly.” The Frenchman tested the heat of the stove. “And he can cook,” Pierre added, as he shot another glance at his son, this time with an arched eyebrow. “Good choice.”



“You like him, dad?” the copywriter asked quietly, holding his breath.



“Ben…do you like him? Are you happy together?” Pierre poured the mixture into the pan. The batter sizzled.



“I love him,” Danny replied, his expression certain, still.



Pierre puffed out his cheeks and exhaled, grabbing the spatula.



“He’s good to you? He doesn’t hurt you?” he asked, turning back to the frying pan.



His son paused and looked away. After a wordless moment, Pierre turned back around, eyebrows arching high.



“He did hurt me. But we worked it out.” Danny turned back to his father. “We’re okay now,” Danny replied, finding a smile widening on his face.



“Ben voilà…you should tell your mother that. Tell her you’re handling this like a man,” his dad said, patting his shoulder.



“Merci, papa,” Danny responded. He reached for his father’s shoulder, emotions welling in his throat. Pierre smiled warmly.



“And if he hurts you again…” Pierre drew his thumb across his throat, complete with a strangling sound effect. His son burst out in laughter.



“Papa, can I ask you something?”



“Oui?” Pierre said, flipping the first pancake onto a plate.



“Promise you won’t cut my throat first.”



Those eyebrows arched again.



—–



That Friday saw a severe thunderstorm, with hail and a tornado watch, which prompted schools and other institutions to close down. Danny was among a handful of people on his office floor who actually showed up, albeit an hour late. There was no presentation after all; most of his coworkers opted to work from home.



By the time 4pm rolled around, his boss urged him to go home: there wasn’t much Danny could work on without the other team members present. Danny didn’t object, but he wasn’t planning on going home yet. Even though it was crazy outside, he was determined to see his man.



He packed all his stuff and turned off his work computer. Then Danny made a call to his favourite Chinese restaurant for takeout. He grinned as he hung up, anticipating an exciting evening.



Meanwhile, Roberto was in the office of his auto shop, researching new business growth opportunities. He’d sent everyone else home, since every appointment from noon on was cancelled and rescheduled for another day–no customer wanted to brave the storm. The mechanic had thought about going home early himself, but stayed behind for two reasons: one, for the rare chance to do some business planning during office hours; two, because Danny texted him saying to stay at the garage, then refused to answer any subsequent texts or calls.



Around 5pm, he heard tapping on the glass of the front door. Bookmarking his browser tabs, Roberto got up and headed to the lobby, wondering who was in such urgent need of car service.



When he got to the door, he saw Danny outside, stumbling in the gusting crosswinds. Wearing nothing but beige shorts, and an orange short-sleeve shirt with matching visor, his boyfriend was carrying a big paper takeout bag for some reason.



“Danny, what the hell are you doing??” the mechanic exclaimed, whipping open the front door and pulling his boyfriend in.



“Oh, thank you sir! Wow, such a powerful storm!” Danny piped up in a ridiculous Chinese accent.



The younger man looked down at his soaked outfit, then lifted the takeout bag and thrusted it in Roberto’s face. “Here’s your order, sir! Guaranteed fresh!”



Roberto stood rigid in his coveralls, staring at Danny, mouth hanging open.



Danny winked and continued, taking the mechanic’s hand and giving him the bag. “Fresh Chinese buns, hot from the oven! I guarantee they’re soft and juicy.” The younger man chuckled and batted his eyes.



For a moment, Roberto actually wanted to open the bag and dig in; the food smelled delicious. But then something else caught his attention: Danny started stripping.



“Quiet day at the auto shop, sir?” the younger man asked in his shaky accent, unbuttoning his wet shirt while bending over and swaying his ass. “You must be so lonely…”



Roberto smirked. He put the takeout bag on the front desk, then leaned back against it and enjoyed the show.



“What’s wrong, sir? Wrong order? You don’t like Chinese buns?” Danny questioned in a high-pitched, surprised tone, undoing the last shirt button. His man gazed hungrily at the sliver of flesh exposed underneath the open shirt front, skin so creamy and hairless, body so slim and supple. Danny pulled apart his open shirt and started slowly rubbing his nipples.



“Maybe there’s something else you like?”



“Oh, I love Chinese buns,” Roberto replied, grinning wide. “I need to see them before I pay, though.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded his chin.



“Ooh, smart mechanic. No tricking you, hehe!” Danny exclaimed, taking off his shirt.



“No, keep the shirt on. Just the shorts off,” the mechanic ordered.



“Ooh yes sir, whatever you like.” His boy turned around and unzipped his tight, stretchy , soaked shorts. Bending down at the waist, he stuck his peach bum out and slid the shorts down, stripteasing slowly.



Roberto’s prick stiffened in his coveralls. He watched the moist denim shorts smooth over and reveal Danny’s globes, round and compact.



His boy wore no underwear. The falling shorts unveiled Danny’s buttocks and rosebud, slightly loosened from Roberto’s regular labour, despite the younger man’s Kegel sets.



The mechanic took a deep breath and stood up straight, ready to sample his order.



“You like, sir?” Danny asked coyly, bending his upper body further down until his hands pressed on the lobby floor, while his legs stood straight and hoisted his buttocks up into the air. The denim shorts piled around his ankles.



Roberto walked up and gave the cheeks a big slap. Danny jumped but remained face down, ass up. Spreading his hands lustily on the globes, the mechanic squeezed hard and began dry-humping his boy through his navy uniform.



Danny pushed back and whimpered. His fantasy was beginning to come true.



“Umm…very fresh….and soft…” his man muttered, groping Danny’s ass greedily. “Just what I ordered…”



Danny suddenly stood up and pushed Roberto away.



“Excellent, sir,” he said with a smirk. He lifted one leg and grabbed the shorts from his ankle, then started walking to the garage area, wearing only an open shirt and visor.



“Tasting is in the car,” he teased. He realized then that if Roberto’s red Lancer wasn’t in the shop, his plan to realize his fantasy would backfire embarrassingly.



The mechanic’s eyes widened. His boy was laying it on thick, and it was over the top, but he loved every second of it. Snapping out of his lusty daze, Roberto followed Danny to the garage, where he did indeed park his Lancer. It was the only car in the shop, parked beside the hydraulic lift.



Danny maneuvered his way around the car parts and garage equipment, heading towards the red customized sports sedan. “Wow, such a nice car you have, sir,” the young man exclaimed.



When he got to the car, he spun around, stretched his arms up, and leaned back against the cold metal doors.



Roberto whistled; there was his boy, naked save for an open, dripping shirt and silly visor, draped on his car. Danny’s ribs were showing, as well as the faint outlines of his abdomen. His cock was half-hard, his green eyes basking in Roberto’s carnivorous glare.



The mechanic took his time getting closer to his lover, putting on his swagger. He began pulling his coverall zipper down.



“Stay in your uniform,” Danny ordered without an accent.



“Yes sir,” his man answered emphatically.



Finally, he stood right in front of his boyfriend, looking down, faces so close together that he could feel Danny’s hot breath on his chin.



Before the mechanic went in for the kiss, he grabbed Danny’s hands and pressed them down on the roof of his car. Then he dove in and devoured his boy’s lips and tongue.



The younger man moaned in ecstatic pleasure, his skin tingling as his fantasy became reality. He’d wanted to get fucked in the garage by his mechanic boyfriend since the first time they met. He was delighted that Roberto was up for it.



Breaking the kiss with a loud smack, the older man let go of Danny’s hands and asked, “Does this cost extra?”



Danny burst out in laughter.



“Free sample, just for you,” his boy replied. He grabbed Roberto’s coverall zipper and guided it down. Disappointingly, his man had clothes on underneath, a white tee and tiny red briefs that barely contained his growing nine-incher. Danny had hoped that, like in his fantasies, Roberto would be naked underneath the uniform.



“Looks like it’s my lucky day,” the mechanic said. He aimed for Danny’s right nipple and swooped in, biting hard on the fleshy pink knob. The younger man lost it, cursing out loud.



With his free hands, Roberto reached down and fondled his boy’s genitals. The thick, five-inch dick erected rapidly to full mast as the mechanic’s seasoned hands stroked and twisted around the shaft. Meanwhile, his mouth switched over to his lover’s left nipple and resumed nibbling.



“Ahh!” Danny exclaimed. He tried awkwardly to fish Roberto’s massive boner out of his underwear, but their height difference and the mechanic’s fervour made it tricky. So, the younger man settled on running his hands all over Roberto’s scalp, ears, and neck.



“Umm, I love Chinese…” Roberto muttered, beginning to bite and kiss his way down Danny’s trim, pale torso. His hands kept stroking and pulling on his boy’s cock and balls.



“Oh Berto…uhh…” Danny gave up on his Chinese accent, too distracted by the coming blowjob.



The mechanic made his way down to his lover’s erection, crouching in front of Danny. “Forgot I ordered a spring roll too,” he stated matter-of-factly, winking up at Danny. The younger man lost it again, and they both had a laughing fit for a moment.



When the last giggles died down, Roberto gazed into Danny’s eyes and stealthily took the cock into his mouth. He took it all in one swallow.



The younger man squeaked his lover’s name and closed his eyes, knees weak from the raw sensation. He started panting, feeling the awesome suction and tongue bath Roberto administered.



The mechanic loved to hear Danny moan and beg for more; he loved knowing that he could arouse and satisfy his lover’s needs. All the men he had sex with before, it was just about getting off; with Danny, he wanted to titillate and please and blow him away. Of course, having Danny constantly remind him he was the best didn’t hurt his ego.



After several blissful minutes, Roberto released Danny’s throbbing prick, thick strings of saliva stretching and falling from the shaft. He looked up at his boy and slapped his ass, a signal to turn around. Danny bit his lip and complied, but before his man could start tasting his asshole, he piped up.



“I wanna do it in the car,” he said, hopeful.



The mechanic hesitated; he didn’t want to get the upholstery dirty.



“Please, Berto? It’s…it’s my fantasy…” Danny admitted, blushing. Roberto’s ears perked up.



“What is, baby?”



“Y’know…” He was starting to feel like a dirty slut.



“Tell me,” his man egged on, having a ball teasing Danny.



“Berto!” the younger man whined.



“You’re not gettin’ it if you don’t tell me,” the mechanic said, getting up.



Danny turned around in a flash. “No!”



He looked down at his cock, dripping with spit.



“I wanna…get fucked in your car,” he finally whispered, closing his eyes, cheeks blazing. “With you in your uniform.”



Roberto chuckled; he decided it would be worth the cleanup after all.



With one hand, he seized Danny’s cock and rubbed it slowly. “You been thinking about that a long time?” The other hand reached into a pocket on his coverall.



The younger man looked up at his lover, who was almost a foot taller. He nodded.



There was a beep; Roberto had pressed the car remote in his pocket and unlocked the doors to his red Lancer. His boy smiled sheepishly and opened the door to the back seat. Getting in, he kicked off his shoes, crawled on all fours onto the cloth bench, and presented his ass to the mechanic.



Roberto suddenly realized how erotic this was going to be for him too. Without a word, he pounced and spat on his boyfriend’s asshole.



Danny was delirious, squealing uncontrollably. The plastic smell of the car, the firm cloth seat under his palms and knees, and Roberto behind him, his face buried in his hairless crack, tongue poking and swirling, lips sucking hard on his sphincter…it all drove him mad. He cried out like a bitch in heat, prompting his man to give his butt a good slap.



The vigorous rimming lasted a good long moment. Roberto couldn’t wait to sink his hard prick all the way into his boy’s hole again; he was so turned on he didn’t even need to jack off to get hard. Danny was bucking back and forth, pressing his ass against the mechanic’s nose and slobbering mouth.



“I’m ready, Berto…” the younger man finally said, craving the piece of engorged flesh between his man’s legs.



After giving Danny one more spit on the hole, then a bite on his buttocks, Roberto backed away and opened the front car door. His boyfriend shot him a confused look, until he realized that the mechanic was looking for lube in the glovebox.



“Can I take off my shirt and visor?” he asked. It was starting to get hot in the car.



“Well, if you want me in my uniform…” Roberto shot back with a smirk. His boyfriend pouted, fanning himself with the shirt. His fantasy didn’t account for how stuffy car sex would be.



As the mechanic made his way back to Danny, the younger man decided he wanted to see his man during the act, and flipped over.



Roberto grinned, revving to go. He slid down the band of his red briefs and fished out his hard prick, then slipped a lubed finger into his boy’s hole and started probing around. With his other hand, he massaged Danny’s thigh and stomach.



The young man found Roberto’s free hand and gripped it, guiding it to his cock. With both of his man’s hands massaging him inside and out, Danny moaned in pleasure.



“Ready to get fucked by the mechanic, takeout boy?” his man asked after a while, adding another twisting finger inside his rectum.



“Oh yeah, gimme that cock…” Danny breathed, squeezing Roberto’s hand around his hardening prick.



“Portuguese sausage, comin’ right up.”

Their eyes connected, then they both howled in laughter.



“We’re having fusion cuisine tonight…” Danny said, watching the mechanic stand up outside the car and slick up his long, girthy meatpole. The thought of Roberto taking him savagely in his rocking car heated his loins; he rested his head back on the seat and stretched his clothed arms above him, against the car door.



The mechanic leaned back into the interior and put Danny’s legs on top of his shoulders. He aimed his erection at the relaxed rosebud.



“Comin’ right up, baby…”



With a firm push, Roberto’s cockhead breached the ring and slid inside his sighing boy. So snug, so good…



The younger bottom arched his back and whimpered, feeling full as he submitted himself to the invasion. He gripped the door handle above him hard, then willed himself to relax and loosen up. Inch after inch of thick, throbbing man meat slid into him.



“Halfway there…” Roberto muttered, continuing to bore deeper. His boy suddenly yelped.



“You okay, baby?” the mechanic stopped.



“Um hmm…” Danny moaned, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Can we start there?”



Maybe it was the new environment, or maybe it was the fact that his fantasy was coming true–the younger man was more tense than usual.



“Of course, baby,” Roberto comforted. He began to pull out when Danny piped up again.



“And can you take off your shirt underneath? Please?” he asked with an awkward smile.



His man chuckled and pulled out of Danny. “Did I miss the script?” he teased, wiggling out of the arms of his coverall clumsily while keeping his head down under the car ceiling. He then stripped off his white tee to reveal his gloriously ripped and hairy torso, and quickly put the unzipped coverall back on.



It was almost sexier just to see a peek of that hard, muscular body beneath the open zipper of the uniform, with a huge big cock hanging out at the bottom of the opening.



“Anything else, Mr. Director?” the mechanic asked, resuming fucking position.



“No. Just fulfill my fantasy, please,” his boy replied with mischief.



Roberto did just that, jamming his prick in and snapping his pelvis forward. Danny was surprised, squeaking out loud, then held on to the door handle above his head and relished in his naughty dream coming true.



Since the ceiling was low, and Roberto was all bulky muscle, he soon felt the strain on his neck, bent over in a maladroit half-kneel while pistoning his slicked-up member deep into his boy. So he soon stopped thrusting, wrapped Danny’s legs around his waist, and straightened his legs until his body pressed down on Danny’s.



Burrowing his face to his favourite spot between his lover’s ear and neck, Roberto pushed deeper into his boyfriend and picked up the pace. He bit and sucked on Danny’s neck while holding onto his boy’s head.



Danny was lost in lust, panting and hollering desperately. The younger man loved it when Roberto’s big brawny body pressed down on his, their groins gyrating tirelessly, Roberto’s massive prick pillaging his insides. He squeezed his man’s tough buttocks through the uniform and whimpered, a helpless, wanton whine, inciting his man to fuck harder.



The car began to rock slightly. Both men were covered in sweat. Danny locked his arms around his man’s clothed back and wailed like a siren; Roberto wrapped his hands around his lover’s head, to shield it from bumping against the car door, and drilled on. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to fuck, but Roberto couldn’t deny that the novelty was turning him on.



It would be several minutes of hardcore sex before the mechanic stopped thrusting. He hoisted himself up and wiggled out of his uniform one arm at a time, until he was only clothed from the cock down. Sweat ran down his chest, coursing through the black forest that lined his bulging pecs and abs. Several drops fell down on Danny’s smooth frame, itself moist with perspiration.



The mechanic looked at his lover, who was flushed and breathing hard.



“Having fun?” Roberto asked.



Danny responded by pulling his lover’s face down for a searing kiss. He wrapped his legs around Roberto’s firm buttocks and sucked on his man’s tongue.



“Fuck me, you stud,” he ordered when he broke the kiss. Roberto raised his eyebrows, then heeded his command.



They fucked on, passionate, needy, loud. Sweaty, hairy balls smacked against a stretched, abused hole. The mechanic stud switched up his thrusts every so often, going fast and shallow, then deep and slow, then rotating his groin to set off Danny’s prostate. His boy was lost in ecstasy, frantically clawing at his man’s muscular back, then banging his fists up against the door.



Eventually, the aching pressure in Roberto’s groin began building rapidly “I’m gonna cum…” he warned, his assault edging.



“Cum all over me!” his boy yelled.



His man pulled out and began jacking, the red, quivering monster, all nine inches of it, about to spray a big load on Danny’s slender, heaving body. The younger man couldn’t wait; he grabbed Roberto’s cock with both hands and stroked hard, twisting his wrists around the cockhead, milking his man of his cum.



Roberto yelled, cursing. Semen shot forth, hitting Danny on the cheek up to his forehead. The next shot splattered against the lid of his orange visor.



Danny kept milking. Cum flew all over his torso, streaking his neck, raining down on his nipples, landing across his belly button. Above him, his man jerked and doubled over, hissing curses.



A river of the thick, runny liquid ran from Danny’s waist down to the back of his open shirt, then onto the cloth back seat.



Without touching his own dick, Danny started cumming himself, screaming the mechanic’s name. His own jizz shot in fountains and landed on his stomach, adding streaks to the mess Roberto had made.



He kept jacking off Roberto until the stud couldn’t take it anymore; the mechanic lifted Danny’s hands away from his sensitive, oozing member and wrapped them around Danny’s ejaculating tool, stroking hard in return.



Danny’s abs flexed hard; he begged for mercy.



“You like that, huh? That’s what you do to me every time…” Roberto hissed, giving his boy one last twisting stroke before letting go. Danny moaned, his whole body going limp.



The mechanic sat back on the cloth seat, his body covered in perspiration. The top half of his coverall was flattened in a messy pile behind his back. Danny’s legs stretched languidly on his clothed lap; Roberto stroked them quietly, coming down from the high.



Suddenly he felt the legs lift away. The next second, a warmth wrapped around his soft dick.



Danny had spun his body around, to lay his head in Roberto’s lap, facing his sweaty, sticky genitals. He sucked that cock for its very last drop, alternating with sucking the sweat off his man’s messy pubes too. The scent and flavours thrilled Danny and he just wanted more.



Roberto leaned back, defeated. He winced every time Danny’s lips drew across his glans. Moaning his boy’s name, he was too weak to push Danny’s head away.



The mixed cumloads on Danny’s body continued to run off and seep into his shirt and the car seat. Roberto saw and tensed for a second–his car was his pride and joy (as well as his body)–but then he decided he would make an evening out of getting his boy to clean the mess he made. Who knows; maybe they’d do this again…



Running his hands up and down Danny’s cooling belly and chest, Roberto gathered a pool of cum. He then swept his hand up his lover’s torso, then his neck, over his chin, the runny liquid spilling all over Danny’s porcelain skin. Finally, the older man dumped the sloppy load into Danny’s open mouth.



His boy moaned and eagerly swallowed.



“Shit…you’re still a nasty little whore, aren’t ya?” Roberto breathed. He loved seeing his boy coated in cum from his mouth all the way down to his dick.



Danny frowned but kept licking Roberto’s hand, kept sucking on his exhausted prick. “Only for you…” he mumbled, his fiery hunger for his mechanic stud slowly calming to sated contentment.



When Roberto’s cock slit had no more sperm to give him, he gave the cockhead one last kiss, then licked his way up his man’s moist, hairy torso, running his tongue over the salty ridges of Roberto’s eight-pack. Sitting up on his man’s lap, he snuggled against the mechanic’s chest and took a quick bite of his left nipple.



The young man felt the layer of cum on his own body cooling.



After a while, Roberto stripped Danny of his shirt, now drenched in rainwater, sweat and cum. He threw the filthy fabric on the car floor, then kissed his lover on the nose and asked, “Happy?”



Danny nodded.



“Was it everything you dreamed of?” Roberto continued.



“It was better…and more painful,” his boy replied, leaning back onto his man’s damp, firm pecs.



“Did I hurt you?” the mechanic asked, looking down at Danny.



“…a little, but it was good too. I meant just, being in the car, on the seat.”



“Yeah…” Roberto stretched his neck; he knew it would be sore in the morning.



After a quiet moment, the mechanic said, “Can’t believe you drove all the way here, in the storm. That’s dangerous.”



“I drove carefully. And I wanted to surprise you, for your long day.” Danny curled his fingers around strands of wet chest hair. “…and then when I saw the storm, I hoped you wouldn’t have any customers, so then I pulled out the costume I got from Value Village and…” he chuckled.



“Went all Asian slut on me,” the mechanic finished. That earned him a slap on his meaty pecs.



Danny looked up at his man again. “Did you like it?”



Roberto grinned, reminding Danny how exactly the mechanic stud had so quickly and utterly flipped his world upside down. “My neck’s gonna be a bitch, but you saw how hard I came.”



Danny smiled, then looked down at the car seat.



“Oops…looks like we got messy…”



“Oh yeah. And you’re gonna clean it,” his man stated. The younger man looked up, pouting.



“What? It’s your fantasy to get messy in my car. Now you gotta clean it up.”



Danny whined, taking off his visor. He was surprised to find Roberto’s cumshot on it. The mechanic shushed him up and put the visor back on Danny’s sexed-up hair, then swiped off his cumshot. “It won’t take that long. We just gotta soak and scrub it a bit,” he said, slipping his jizzed finger between his boy’s lips.



Danny sucked the finger clean. Releasing it, he then said, “Fine. And then we’ll go back to your place.”



That made Roberto open his eyes wide. “Your mom let you sleep over??”



Danny smiled proudly. “Well, my dad did. He’s on our side. He’s talking to mom.” He snuggled up to his man. “He wants me to make my own decisions.”



The mechanic whistled. “Well, that was easy…”



“He also threatened to cut your throat if you hurt me again,” his boy teased.



Roberto stiffened. “Danny, I thought we talked about this…”



“We did, we did…I just…” He quickly sat up and looked at his man. “Sorry. I was just joking,” he apologized.



“Do you trust me?” Roberto questioned, staring at his boyfriend.



“Yes,” Danny replied firmly.



“Good. Now let’s not bring it up again,” he finished, lifting his boy off his lap. He fumbled for the coverall sleeves behind him and put his uniform back on. Danny watched, unsure if he’d just ruined everything.



He stayed sitting when Roberto zipped up and got out of the car. Waiting for a second, the mechanic turned around and leaned back into the interior. “Are you coming to shower?”



Danny exhaled.



“I didn’t know there was a shower here!” he exclaimed, crawling out of the back seat. Maybe that could be where his next fantasy takes place…



—–



After cleaning themselves, they spent 30 minutes soaping up and scrubbing down the Lancer’s back seat. They then headed for Roberto’s apartment in each of their cars. The thunderstorm had cleared by then, leaving roads wet and garbage cans toppled, but otherwise the drive was fine.



When they got in and flopped onto Roberto’s black couch, they were both starving and exhausted. The Chinese takeout wasn’t going to be enough food for both of them, so after cuddling with Danny for several minutes, the mechanic got up and started making dinner.



“Wanna help me?” Roberto asked, opening the fridge. Danny bounded up and followed his man into the kitchen. The plan was chicken stir-fry, easy, relatively quick, and a suitable complement to the Chinese buns.



While Danny was chopping up the vegetables, his mind wandered. The past eight months had been crazy. The young man went from falling head over heels for Roberto, to having his heart broken by him, to a blitz of socializing and promiscuity in order to get over the mechanic, then back together with Roberto, as well as starting a new job. He hadn’t kept in touch with any of his friends at all, both the ones he’d known for years and the ones he’d met during his 180-degree phase. This included Richie, his best friend.



They’d met in Grade 5, where they bonded instantly when they saw each other’s Powerpuff Girls merchandise: Danny had the pencil case while Richie had the pencils. From then on, they talked every day, had play dates at each other’s house, and shared every secret until puberty.



During their early teenage years, both of them were going through confusing feelings for boys. Well aware of the homophobic slurs being thrown around the hallways, they each kept to themselves in middle school.



The two stayed distant until the start of high school, where on the first day, Richie said hi to Danny in math class, hugged him, and told him he was gay. Danny gasped and whisper-asked how he knew; Richie told him about his first sexual experience, with a summer camp counsellor. That cemented their friendship again.



“Oh Richie…” the copywriter mumbled.



“What?” Roberto asked, turning around from the skillet. Danny jumped.



“Oh, nothing…”



Through their high school years, their friends noticed how similar Danny and Richie looked. Strangers thought they were brothers, Richie the blond one, Danny the brunet; brothers who actually liked hanging out with each other at school, unlike most siblings. They had each other for support in dealing with gay and teenaged issues, and truly became the best of friends.



Richie was always the forward, outspoken, gutsy one; not Danny. Thus, the blond was the first to come out, first to his other friends, then to the whole school when he ran for student council. By association, Danny was outed as well. Luckily, their school was largely accepting and they were both well-liked.



“I miss Richie,” Danny finally said.



They then went to the same college, Danny for professional writing and Richie for television broadcasting. Other friends came and went, but the two stayed and grew together. They talked about writing and producing a definitive gay version of Sex & the City, then winning Emmys and buying mansions beside Britney Spears and Tom Cruise in Hollywood.



They also talked about boys, a lot. It was one area where the two besties were diametrically opposed: Danny had bought into the fairy tales and waited for his prince to come on a white horse, while Richie was basically Samantha Jones in young gay form. The former had one boyfriend during college; the latter, by graduation, had to estimate his number of sexual partners.



Roberto and Trevor, Richie’s current boyfriend, changed their relationship again. Richie was in love for the first time and began spending lots of time with his tattoo-artist partner. Then Danny flipped out and went into an 180-degree personality shift when he discovered Roberto wasn’t sexually exclusive with him–he sought a way to distance himself from the mechanic and his feelings for him, and the path he chose was to change himself completely. Richie, already spending less time with Danny, was confounded by the unprecedented change; it was like his best friend became another person. They began to drift apart.



Now that things had calmed down in Danny’s life, he began to wonder if his friendship with Richie was in jeopardy.



“Baby, the veggies?” Roberto asked, staring at his boyfriend.



Danny snapped out of his thoughts and handed the bowl to Roberto.



“You should give him a call,” the mechanic suggested, sweeping the veggies into the frying pan.



“I should…” his boyfriend conceded, doubtful he would anytime soon. “Umm, anything else for me to do?” he asked, walking up behind his man and leaning his head on Roberto’s back.



“Nah.” The stir-fry smelled mouthwateringly good. “Perfect time to call someone,” the mechanic said with a smirk.



Danny took a deep breath and sighed. “You wouldn’t understand…” He’d never fought with Richie, which meant they’d never had to resolve conflict and make up. It was something he didn’t know how to deal with.



“Sure I do. It was Richie who helped me find you, remember?” Roberto threw the cooked chicken pieces back into the skillet and stirred them quickly with the greens. “We talked.”



“About what?” Danny looked up.



Awkward moment. “…about how much you changed when we weren’t together.”



“Oh god…” Danny moaned. “You made me go crazy.”



“Danny…” Roberto began to turn around.



“No, I’m just kidding…” Danny wrapped his arms around his big man. “Well, kinda. But I’m not like that anymore.”



“No, you’re not.” The mechanic began scooping everything out of the pan. “Can you set the table, baby?”



Danny went to the drawers to grab the utensils and plates. He then walked over to the kitchen table in silence.



“Dinner’s ready,” Roberto declared proudly, placing the big bowl of chicken stir-fry on the table, beside the bowl of reheated buns. Instead of the usually appreciative audience, however, he had Danny, lost in thought.



“Do you want me to call him?” he asked, slightly irritated.



“No!” Danny exclaimed.



“Then let’s have dinner, and then go call him.” Roberto sat down.



“But what am I gonna say?” the younger man pleaded.



The mechanic scooped a large helping onto his plate, then forked a big bite of chicken and veggies into his mouth. Looking back at Danny, he chewed, swallowed, and said, “You can start by thanking him, for getting us back together.”



Danny’s eyes bulged. Roberto looked at him matter-of-factly and continued eating. Seeing his boy anxious, the mechanic then softened his gaze and reached across the table to give Danny’s arm a squeeze.



Dinner was quiet. When the couple finished, Roberto gave Danny a look, then started clearing the kitchen table. Danny sighed again, and took out his phone.



As the call connected and started ringing, the copywriter took a deep breath.



“Hey Danny…”



“Hey,”



“…what’s up?” Richie asked, seemingly distracted.



“Oh, nothing much, just wanted…to talk.”



“Hey, I’m on the other line. Can I call you back?”



“Yeah, yeah…” he replied. The call disconnected.



Danny looked at Roberto, feeling helpless and disappointed.



—–



—–



Richie switched to the other line. “Hey, still here?” he asked.



“Yeah,” Simon replied.



“That was Danny.” Richie said, exhaling.



“Oh.” Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you wanna talk to him?”



“Oh gawd no!” the blond exclaimed.



He took a breath. “Not right now at least. Uhh, what were we talking about?”



“Uhh…what we’re gonna do tonight,” the singer reminded him, putting a frozen pasta dinner into the microwave.



“Oh yeah, that…so Trevor wants to stay in and watch a movie or TV, but I wanna go out. It’s been so long!”



“Like a few weeks?” Simon asked, chuckling. He poured the last bit of water left in his Brita filter into his glass, then went to the sink tap to refill the pitcher.



“I used to party every weekend, at least twice! Danny and me and a bunch of us…you met Chris and Hamid and Ryan, and you know Ben…”



“Yeah.”



“Yeah, we used to go out all the time! And I always had to talk to guys for Danny…but he was always too shy so…sometimes I ended up going home with the guy…”

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