Trophy 6

Every Wednesday, Bella went somewhere. That Wednesday, Frank decided to find out where.

Through binoculars, he’d tracked her town car for several blocks. Now, on this morning, he waited on a side street until the town car showed. He’d spotted it the moment it made its turn. By the time it passed him, the Mustang’s engine was running and he’d even found a decent song on the radio.

He waited until two more cars went by, then turned onto the same road as the town car, following with those two cars between them. Didn’t try to get any closer. He’d done this kind of job before. Knew how to tail someone without being seen.

At stop lights, he was close enough to see ahead to the town car’s back glass. Bella wasn’t the type of woman to ride up front. Frank saw her profile through the tinted glass. Even that was flawless. It drew him inexorably to thoughts of her perfect body, first in a tiny bikini, then in nothing but the distance between them.

He thought next of how enthusiastically she’d fucked, taking one man into her mouth, another between her legs. The look of rapturous bliss on her face after her phallic feast had come in her mouth had been angelic, the look of a saint composing a beautiful aria—while her body had been pure sin, pumping and gyrating to prolong her climax, every movement part of a sensual dance she didn’t even seem aware she was performing.

Frank had felt undeniable arousal at the sight. He felt it now, simply knowing that woman was in sight of him, close, where he could get to her.

If there was a weak point in the Scagliones and the Beluccis’ combined operations, it was her. The lynchpin of their unholy alliance. The Scagliones’ hostage daughter and the Beluccis’ war trophy. If he applied pressure on her, the entire enterprise would shatter.

Then would come the blood. The killing. The smell of gunpowder replacing all their expensive cologne. He’d dug an armada of graves for each of the plots the Mafia had filled with his family. Seeing some of those graves full was all he had to live for.

***

To all appearances, the only thing Bella Belucci did on Wednesday was visit her accountant. His office was in a dingy building, in a slum that held to the rest of the city like a scab. The Somali gangs that occupied the ghetto knew enough to leave her car alone; to all but guard it. It was Scaglione, not their usual fair game.

On the third floor of the sagging office building, behind a glazed glass door that boasted the black-lettered legend ETHAN JAMES MARKHAM—CERTIFIED PUBLIC ACCOUNTANT like the name of an exhibit at a zoo, was an outer cubicle, reception room and secretarial office. All very genuine seeming, from the magazines piled on an end table to the cigarette burns on the chairs’ armrests.

Inside the office itself, though, was a different story. The tile floor became deep-pile red shag carpeting. The only furniture was a canopied bed. At its foot was a ‘toy chest,’ full to the brim with sex toys, bondage devices, lubricant, and prophylactics. There was even a mirror above the bed.

One-way glass filled curtainless windows, adding a layer of exhibitionism to the proceedings within, while the lighting was a dim amber. Seeing anything under that light made it seem to pulse with sensuous life, especially when there was a brief wait in the outer office—time to conduct the ‘foreplay’ of toking up while Bella and sometimes even a single lover waited for a third or fourth to join them before the play began.

It was the complete love nest and here, Bella felt free to be herself. Free of everything but the worry that, were Vincenzo to know of how she defied him, he still wouldn’t care.

She lay with her head in Romano’s lap, while Vito used her thigh as a pillow. Romano was her bodyguard. He was older than Vito, about thirty, and handsome in the bland way that diet and exercise could give any body. His brown hair was cut low, his jaw was strong, and his shoulders were broad. He was another of Bella’s repeat customers. No matter how many times she fucked him, his green eyes were always undressing her.

“Again?” Bella asked Vito, trying to sound incredulous, but really pleased. Beneath her hand was the sound swelling of his manhood and she hadn’t even really been caressing it through the silk sheets. It was more the idea of her idle caresses that was returning him to hardness.

Vito grinned, pleased with his own virility. “Yeah. Again.”

She opened her legs and let Vito see into her moistly glinting sex. His nostrils flared, inundated with the high of her heady female scent, making him salivate. He’d rested his head in her lap to stay close to that smell and now it was in full bloom.

Her nimble fingers pulled the sheets away from Romano’s cock. It was already up in the air, switched on by her and Vito messing around, and it really got hard once she started rubbing it. But then Bella stopped, only able to squeeze, as Vito pressed trembling lips to her core. He thrust in with his tongue and Bella jerked into motion again, pistoning her hand faster and faster on Romano’s quivering erection. 

“Oh yes—yes. Lick me up and down… taste all of me. Faster, that’s it! That’s right! Oh, Vito, my Vito-Vito-Vito! Make circles… circles… around my, my clit! Ah! Yes! Yesss!”

Bella came up onto all fours and took Romano’s burning manhood deep into her eager mouth. Slowly, thoroughly, she worked her head up and down, relishing the sweet flavor she discovered in every inch of his length. Vito did the same to her, burying his head between her creamy thighs and lapping like a kitten at a bowl of milk.

Romano moved to put his hands on her head, to pump her up and down even faster on his dick, but Bella slapped his hands away. She wasn’t his toy. He was hers.

“Get behind me,” she told him. “Fuck me from behind.”

The bodyguard obeyed readily; Bella felt the heat of his feverish body, pressing in close to her wiggling ass. Her heart pounded; her breath shook her tits in rasping gulps.

Romano knew what she wanted now. He inched in tight to her and rubbed his member between her buttocks. The pleasing pressure made Vito’s tongue feel even better to her.

“Put it in already. Give me that beautiful cock way up inside me, all of it—I want all of it!”

The knob moved into her gates, both soaked with saliva to gild the entrance. Bella readied herself for the delicious shock of being connected. Dazzling colors flashed in her mind, burying all shades of gray. And the feeling only went on and on as she reached back to aim him at the center of her desire.

Then, all too soon—for the anticipation was sumptuous, even if she couldn’t bear it—his broad cockhead was inside her. Followed quickly by inch after inch of manhood, Romano pounding himself against her ass in the knowledge that its plush contours could take as much hammering as he could dish out.

Delight followed delight with Vito still licking at her fevered clit. He wasn’t concerned by the proximity of another man to his current hunting ground. In fact, it turned him on as much as it did Bella.

And she felt her climax coming up almost immediately, sweeping over her body like a raging forest fire, holding her one step away from the completion she now needed like oxygen itself. She shut her eyes to blot out the sight of Vito and any reminder of his mirror image father before her climax had its way with her.