Professional 2-Closed

Perplexia

Romance embellisher
Joined
Jul 25, 2007
Posts
18,221
At the tender age of 12, Matilda had already learned that life sucked. Between the beatings from her father, step sister, and whore of a step mother, she was already looking for an out. Her only refuge was the polite chit chat with a man name Leon.
Leon was her saving grace, when she came home from the store to hear screams and a spray of shots being fired. She bravely walked past what was once her place and knocked on Leons door. After a few moments that seemed like eternity, he let her in.

He hadn’t wanted to keep her, but she didn’t have anyone or anywhere else. She more or less demanded that he teach her his craft. Leon was a hit-man. After a few weeks she could take apart guns and put them back together with great speed. She had nerves of steel and yearned for her first assignment. When Leon put her back on the bench, she had taken it upon herself to go after those responsible for her little brothers life.

The crooked cops came for them. Although she escaped, and Leon took them all out, he did end up dieing to ensure they would as well. This left Matilda in the care of Tony, Leons contact of sorts. He held on to the money Leon had kept for Matilda. Matilda not wanting to be idol but wanting to carry on with Leons jobs begged Tony to give her a job. It wasn’t until she was 15 that he finally gave in.

The past three years she perfected her skills and continued to take new jobs from him. Now finished with high school, she was able to commit to this life with full focus. Tony had since passed the reigns of his business to his nephew Dante Catanzarro. Matilda had only met him once or twice, and didn’t really care for him. He just seemed like the kind of guy that things always went right for. Of course she didn’t really care for anyone. There was only one person that she ever got close to, and that was Leon.

Walking into the Deli that fronted for the business Tony had run she walked past the body guards without a thought and pulled out her chair. “I want a new job” she stated plainly. She looked dead into Dante's eyes daring him to refuse her. Over the years she had become one of the more lucrative enforcers for Tony's operation. She used their underestimation of her to her advantage.
 
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Surrounded by the sterile, beige tile and generic panels of stainless steel, Dante Catanzarro looked completely out of place in his Italian bespoke suit and professionally styled hair. He’d never been in a morgue before, which struck him as ironic, given how many rivals he’d sent here, directly or indirectly. The tech pulled back a white sheet to reveal his old uncle Tony, the pallor of death washing over his usually vibrant features and hints of blue lurking in the contours of his face. The hole in his forehead had been plugged up with some type of clay that only served to contrast the color of uncle Tony’s skin to what flesh ought to be colored like.

“That’s him,” Dante uttered, his voice uncharacteristically faint, he cleared his throat and repeated himself to try and regain his trademark composure, the next time he said it firmly, and with purpose, “it’s him.”

The technician pulled the sheet back over Tony’s face, the mound of his large belly swelling the sheet from below. In life he’d seemed large in a magnanimous way, in a way that his personality seemed to echo and made him fill up a room the moment he was in it—in death he was just fat, like a fifty pound pile of shit under a ten pound sheet. Just as Dante was pondering what sort of corpse he would make, he heard Vinny’s lighter over his shoulder.

“Sir! You can’t do that in here!” the technician shouted, before Dante had the opportunity to scold his own subordinate, “please! In the sink! This is still a hospital!”

“It ain’t hurtin’ them any,” Vinny remarked as he stubbed out his cigarette on the bottom of his size sixteen wingtips.

“Go wait outside,” Dante muttered over his shoulder, already regretting bringing Vinny into the hospital with him.

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice,” Vinny was all too glad to get out of the chilly morgue.

“Do I need to sign something?”

*-*-*

The late afternoon found Dante sitting in his Uncle Tony’s old seat at his old table, drinking Scotch from a crystal tumbler. The bottle was so old that its label had peeled off, revealing that Dante had worked his way through almost half the bottle, but if he was drunk there wasn’t much evidence of it on his face aside from one stray lock of his usually perfect hair that swept across his forehead.

It felt like the walls were closing in around him, like the ground was replaced with quicksand and he was sinking. No one would have dared to do this if Tony was still under the protection of Don Riggo, which meant that the Don was no longer looking out for Tony—if the Don hadn’t ordered his hit himself. What did that mean for him? Was Dante next?

A commotion at the door made Dante instinctively reach for his revolver in its belt-mounted sheath, but he quickly relaxed as he saw Matilda, Leon’s former protégé and sometimes fixer for Uncle Tony and himself. Presently, however, he didn’t need a hitter. He needed allies and information. As Matilda pushed her way past Vinny and the others at the door, Dante set a second crystal glass on her side of the table. Vinny, who was in no mood to be ignored today, had already drawn his 9 mm. behind Matilda only to be shaken off by a deft twitch of Dante’s head.

“Ever the eager one,” Dante sighed as he poured three or four fingers of Scotch into the other glass, “I’m afraid I don’t have a contract for you at the moment. I don’t need a cleaner—or more specifically, I need a lot more than a cleaner. Uncle Leo is dead, murdered. Our own allies are turning on us and I don’t know if I’m next, the last thing I need is you going around capping people, bringing more attention to us… however…”

An idea began brewing in Dante’s mind as he looked Matilda up and down. He always imagined her as younger than she was anymore, since Uncle Tony had looked after her education and finances after Leon’s death. Dante perpetually thought of Matilda as a wide-eyed sixteen year old with a knack for rifle scope kills, but she wasn’t just some novelty act anymore. She was a woman.

“Maybe you can help me. What size dress do you wear?”
 
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Her mouth pierced at the news of Tony's death, and her eyes left his for a moment as she processed his words. She hadn't particularly like the man. But he did right by Leo, in ensuring she got her education and provided her with work. Her eyes went back to Dantes', cold blank stare of a soulless killer.

The stench of Vinny was apparent behind her. She could feel the muzzle pressed against her skull. Yet her nerves were cool and calm. 'pull the trigger' she dared him in her mind. Let her out of this miserable life. Perhaps there was an after life and she could finally see Leon again. 'Do it'. She dared silently as her eyes stayed in solidly without even a twitch with Dante's. Taking a glass of the scotch she slammed it down the back of her throat and set the glass down with a firmness that cause a sound to echo.


Vinny was gone now, she had watched Dante dismiss the ape. She leaned back in her chair and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. There were words she was suppose to say... oh yeah "I'm sorry for your loss."

The lack of emotion was apparent in the words, the only thing she would miss from Tony was work. Now she would have to find a new provider. Perhaps Don Riggo still had use of her services. Tony had lent her to him once in a while. Riggo had wanted her to come work for him full time. But she didn't trust him, he was more of an asshole then Tony was.

She could of course go solo, contract for hire and all that. But she had a hard enough time proving herself over the past few years and getting these monkeys to take her seriously. Still it was something to consider. This city had nothing left for her, she could always just pick up and move. Perhaps she could visit France, Leon had traveled all over. Perhaps it was time for her to do the same.

Then Dante asked her what size dress she wore. For a brief moment a look of confusion crossed her face, then it was back to the dead stare. "That depends on who makes the dress." she responded coley. A slight smirk crossed her lips, seeing his apparent lack of amusement she added "4". Curiosity lingered in her mind as she waited for more information.
 
Dante nodded as Matilda offered her hollow condolences, he wasn’t accustomed to being the one with the loss that people were sorry for—he was usually the one who took. As Matilda confirmed his suspicion about her dress size, he refilled her glass. It was clear that her interest was piqued, which was good, but he had no idea if she’d agree to what he was about to ask.

“Before I can hire you to kill anybody again, I need to know where I stand with the organization as a whole,” Dante refilled his own glass too, “that could prove hazardous if Don Riggo and the family are involved with Uncle Tony’s murder. I could use another body-man—er, person. It’s not a hit, but you could be really useful to me in a cocktail dress with a nine on your thigh.”

The phrasing of “nine on your thigh” came out a little more flirtatious than Dante had intended, but he didn’t make any expression of hesitation or awkwardness as he spoke—the double entendre wasn’t so far from what he was really feeling. His Uncle Tony had always seemed invincible, now that he was gone Dante felt uncharacteristically vulnerable and Matilda’s presence made him feel more at ease than he’d felt since the mortician pulled the sheet back. He wasn’t sure if it was because he knew that Matilda was a murder genius or if it was because she was one of Tony’s old contracts or if it was just as simple as the fact that she was sexy as hell, but whatever it was, there was no one else Dante could imagine watching his back as he took Don Riggo’s temperature.

“I’ll give you fifteen hundred for the night, the dress and all your drinks are on me. If all goes as planned you won’t even have to fire a shot,” Dante smiled, extending his hand across to Matilda, eager to reach an agreement so that he could count on her, “I’ll buy your dress, too. Do we have a deal?”
 
Matilda considered his offer. She liked money, that was the major draw, but she didn't care for dresses much. "2 Grand, dress, drinks, shoes and borrow or buy some good jewelry to help me look my part." she gave a slight smirk "It won't just be a nine strapped to my thighs if you were wondering." Matilda liked knives, especially for the up close and personal approach. If she had to be his entourage, she was going to be prepared.

Leaning forward slowly she spoke so only he could hear the next part. "If your monkey ever puts a gun to my head again I will rid you of his service. I have been a long time helping hand, If I was here to cause malice, well we would have ended this conversation before i even sat down."

Her facial expression was firm and true. She had never quite grasped the ability of being subtle. She just said how she felt and what she meant. Leaning back she smiled sweetly. "If we have a deal, I just need a time and a place to meet you."
 
Dante chuckled faintly, glad to see that Matilda was every bit the livewire he remembered. Of course she wouldn’t just agree without renegotiating and delivering a stern warning about Vinny’s indiscretion. “Carry whatever you can effectively hide and you think that you need to make sure all of us make it out of there, just remember, we’re not going in there to fuck shit up, we’re taking their temperature. There’s no reason that anybody should get killed, you clear?”

“Oh, and the diamonds will be on loan,” Dante smiled, taking a sip from his glass, “and don’t hold it against Vinny, he’s your biggest fan. This whole murder of my uncle thing has everybody on edge and we’re still parsing out who can be trusted.”

Dante leaned forward, scrawling an address onto the bar napkin at his place at the table, his uncle’s old spot. He slid the paper across the table to Matilda. “This is my tailor, he’ll want you there for the finer alterations, but I’ll call ahead so that you won’t have to be there long. Get there at 7:30 and I’ll have my car pick you up at eight.”

As he handed over the napkin with the address and phone number, Dante looked up, briefly imagining Matilda dolled up in a cocktail dress, dripping with sequins but no less deadly. He found himself turned on by her for the first time. She was headstrong and childish, he’d known her cursorily since she was a pre-teen and generally thought of her more like a step-sibling than an object of sexual interest, but she’d grown into a lithe beauty without him really noticing. Perhaps she was an undervalued asset, if her good looks could be weaponized against his rivals—once he figured out for certain who the enemies were.

“You’ll need to play the role of my date, so you know, don’t be quite so… well, you know how you are. Not that we don’t love your attitude and everything around here, but these old country mob types aren’t so evolved on women’s issues. They’ll be expecting someone more submissive and less… opinionated than you are. But you’re a fixer, I’m sure you’re used to playing a role to get closer to your target.”

*-*-*

The rest of the evening had been spent laying groundwork with the tailor, the driver and the Don himself. He was deliberately vague with Don Riggo, alluding to a serious problem but not being any more specific. Though the Don implied ignorance, he tipped his hand by not asking about Uncle Tony, which he’d ordinarily have done, since it wasn’t Dante’s place to be inquiring about Tony’s interest in the business—still, it wasn’t definitive.

Dante’s tie and vest were both made of matched silver silks to match the silver sequined cocktail dress he’d commissioned for Matilda. It was an odd situation, he was finding, this facimile of a date in order to have another armed hitter at his back—he ought to have been nervous about the prospect of walking into an ambush, but instead, he was anxious over Matilda and feelings he’d never expected to have for a member (or would-be member, as was the case) of his crew.

At eight on the dot, Vinny pulled the Lincoln Towncar up in front of the tailor’s shop and Dante swung open the door.
 
Somehow she had managed not to scoff at his suggestion that she acted childish. Perhaps she wasn't as refined as the girls that went to finishing schools, or had mothers to teach them how to act like a lady. But as for her acting ability, well he'd never witnessed her at work, so he really wouldn't know.
With a nod and shake of the hand she left.

****
Arriving at the tailors early she scoped out the place to ensure she wasn't being set up. Paranoid, yes, yes she was. Everyone was a potential risk in her line of work. The monkey made that a lesson today. Even if it wasn't his intention to do so. Before she had arrived to scope it out, she had her hair and make up done. The tailor was very compliant and quick in getting her dress fixed just right to her. He didn't even flinch when put her weapons in place to ensure she was fully covered.

With the finishing touches done, she saw the car pull up and Dante opening the door. He looked particularly dashing in his custom made suit. Almost breathtaking, for the first time she had almost lost her focus. She was actually impressed with the dress he had chosen. She thought he would have picked out something with more of a bimbo flare. Perhaps her thoughts of him being a brainless playboy were slightly skewered. With a deep breath, and one foot in front of the other she exited the tailor ship with a bag of her items she wore in. The driver took them from her and placed them in the trunk. With the best impression of a lady she could muster she carefully got into the car.
 
“My God,” Dante sighed at the sight of Matilda, dressed to the nines and climbing into the towncar, long, elegant legs first, “you look outstanding.”

The driver closed the door behind her and made his way to the driver’s seat and drove off toward their scheduled appointment with Don Riggo where Dante’s fate within the organization would be decided. Perhaps even his fate in a much grander, more permanent sense. A sinking feeling settled into his gut.

“What are you packing?” Dante asked Matilda, lifting his pant leg to reveal a snub-nosed revolver tucked into his sock, “I’ve got six shots and no more, I hope we don’t need any of them…”

A thought then occurred to Dante and he leaned across Matilda, retrieving a bottle of Scotch from the center console by the driver’s arm. He quickly uncorked the bottle and began splashing the top-shelf liquor over his neck and face like aftershave, unbuttoning the top buttons of his pressed dress shirt to smear more liquor over his muscular chest. When he decided he was finished, he handed the bottle over to Matilda.

“We can drink when we get out of there, for now, it’s better that we smell like we’ve been drinking. Let them drop their guard a little bit and keep them from suspecting that we’re on the lookout for an ambush. They invited me for a party, so we ought to seem like we’re there for one.” Dante instructed, buttoning back up after passing the bottle, “like I said, hopefully a party is all it is. After we’re done, you and I can enjoy that bottle properly. For now, we both need to be sharp. I’m sure you’d agree.”

Before long, the car pulled up to Don Riggo’s palatial East Coast mansion, just outside of the city limits. The large, stone pillars that lined the grand entrance were all lit from below and a marble fountain was running with water. Between the pillars, Riggo’s trusted henchmen were on high alert, each with a sub-machine gun dangling from a strap around their neck.

“Looks like we’re not going to get much of a friendly welcome here,” Dante chuckled, a bit of gallows humor to lighten the mood, “game face time, beautiful. Let’s go convince some killers that we’re not.”

When the driver opened the door for him, Dante feigned a stumble getting out of the car, affecting a loud, boisterous laugh as though he didn’t have a care in the world and Matilda had just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. The guards at the door, however, were humorless and quickly squared his shoulders with firm hands and began searching him under his arms, down his sides, down his back—

“Hey there, tough guy! Watch the hands!” Dante objected, deliberately slurring his speech, “you’d better not touch my girl like that, I’ll kick your ass!”

With his objection noted, Matilda got away with a much more respectful and cursory pat down, with generous space given to avoid her more sensitive areas.

“They’re clean.” the guard called over his shoulder to a valet who ushered them into the marble lined foyer.

Dante draped his arm around Matilda’s shoulders, holding her close and placing a gentle kiss to her scalp, finding himself surprised at how soft her hair felt against his lips and chin… and how good she smelled…

“Well, well, well, so glad you all could make it!” Don Riggo effused, descending the winding staircase down to meet them on the main floor as they climbed a few stairs to the main living area, “and what a tasty little dish you’ve brought with you, Dante. Glad to see that you’ve inherited your uncle’s exceptional taste. Who have we here, Mademoiselle?”

Don Riggo reached out to grasp Matilda’s hand and lift it to his lips, placing a polite kiss on the back of her wrist.

“This is Cassidy, she’s a dancer that I met while she was looking for new work. If you think she’s something now, you should see her move.”

“I can only imagine. It’s a pleasure, Cassidy. It smells like you two have already started the party without me, come on back to the lounge and we can keep the good times rolling. What’s your drink of choice Cassidy, my dear?”

Like this, Don Riggo led the couple into his personal leather-lined lounge where he’d often entertain guests. Dante felt his heart pounding in his chest and for reasons he couldn’t yet pinpoint, it made his blood boil to watch Don Riggo’s lips touch Matilda’s hand. Nonetheless, he kept up the façade of drunken reveler with no sense that the Don had anything to do with Uncle Tony’s murder.

“It was a shame, what happened to your Uncle Tony,” Don Riggo remarked as he led them into the lounge area.
 
"Thanks" she replied a little shocked at his compliment as she got into the car. "You look quite dashing as well." She was a bit upset at herself that she was finding herself so attracted to him. After all this was a job, and he..was still playboy. Her experience to men was limited to coning and manipulating them for work purposes. Her first kiss had actually been with a mark, in order to lure him away from his guests. Shaking her head lightly his question of what she was packing brought her back to reality.

"I have some throwing blades on the insides of my upper thighs, and a gun nestled beneath my breasts. They'll pass any frisking, and i'll excuse myself to the little girls room to readjust to make them accessible." A smile of accomplishment crossed her lips. This wasn't her first rodeo.

"I see" she said after hearing his explanation about splashing scotch over himself. Taking the bottle she took a swig. "mm the good stuff" she said with a smile and dabbing some over her neck, cleavage, and wrists. "Got it drunk bimbo".

She followed suit taking his hand out of the car and practically falling into him as she giggled idiotically with a big grin. She wiggled and giggled as they tried to frisk her "oooh that tickles" she said batting her eyes as she flirted with the cards in typical Brooklyn accent ditsy style. Clinging to Dante's arm she stumbled a little giggling and ahhing and ooing over the house they entered.

She was in full character mode. Even when the Don introduced himself she giggled and batted her lashes at him. "Oh my what a gorgeous home you have" she complimented him as she allowed the impression of her being impressed to the point to where he could probably steal her away from Dante's arm without much effort. She smiled sweetly at the Don's remark about them starting with out him and turned the conversation "Oh My God, would you look at those moldings" she stated carrying on with her charade. "Dante love please, i want some like those." She nuzzled against Dante planting a chaste kiss upon his lips in hopes that 'Cassidy' could convince her man to fulfill her wish of moldings.

With her fair share of wiggling and loosing balance (on purpose) on her heals she painted herself to Dante's side being the ever so doting woman.
 
Dante was genuinely impressed with how well Matilda was adapting to her role as Cassidy, affecting the posture, speech and even judgment of an inebriated bimbo—the kind of women Don Riggo and his ilk were familiar and comfortable with. She was stumbling, slurring and flirting with just about everyone they encountered. It occurred to Dante that it might be good pretext to get Don Riggo or one of his associates alone—if the situation called for it.

“Don’t you worry, babe. A couple months from now I’ll be able to afford all the moldings your heart could desire,” Dante cajoled, keeping up the illusion of his own drunkenness while also trying to steer the conversation back toward money and his role in the organization now that his uncle was out of the picture, “I’m going to be running Hell’s Kitchen for Don Riggo here.”

“Not so fast, youngster…” Don Riggo stopped abruptly at the bar, pouring himself a drink, “I know that Hell’s Kitchen was your uncle’s territory, but right now, we’re going through some… restructuring in that neighborhood.”

“Restructuring?” Dante reached for his belt and got ready to retrieve his pistol if needed, this little tete-a-tete was coming to a head right away.

“Well, take it easy, now. My family knows how loyal your family has been all these years, you won’t be cast out or anything—you’ll be setting up your little operation out in Staten Island. My nephew Mike is coming from the old country to run the Kitchen, we’re just consolidating things. Making sure that key positions are from the right family.”

“Restructuring, consolidating, those are some big words to describe kicking me out on my ass. My uncle solved a lot of problems for you without asking for much in return. Now you’re moving me out of Hell’s Kitchen and his body isn’t even cold yet? Was that hit a part of this restructuring?”

The picture was coming clear now, Don Riggo was pushing him out, and probably had his Uncle killed and seemed pretty secure in the assumption that Dante would be killed before he was allowed to leave the family, knowing as much as he did. The gloves were indeed off already, Don Riggo didn’t even pour himself a drink.

“Hey, settle down,” Don Riggo smirked, “his body is definitely cold.”

“So what, you brought me here just to humiliate me in front of my girl, keep guns on me when you tell me that you’re just taking my family’s legacy?”

“Not much of a legacy, if you ask me,” from behind Don Riggo another voice came from up the red velvet stairs, “you’d better watch the way you talk to Uncle Vito. Just because you’re a guest in our home, doesn’t mean I won’t bust your shit wide open.”

As Mike entered the lounge room with the three of them, he whistled between his teeth at the sight of Matilda.

“Hey there, sweetness. What’s your name?”

“Don’t talk to her!” Dante screeched, feigning desperation. The best thing that could happen would be for Mike to try and get her alone, as he assumed she was following the situation as keenly as he was, in spite of seeming drunk and sloppy.
 
Matilda continued to watch and listen taking assessment over the situation. As if in a chess game, she memorized positions, stature, and began to form several different scenarios and the correct reaction to have.

"Are you kidding me here?" she said feigning outrage at Dante's jealous explosion. "I cannot believe you take me out to meet Thee Don, and you are acting like a jealous thug. You just had to embarrass me!" feigning her drunken stoop and intoxicated wobbling she tripped over her own feet in order to make mike reach out to steady her. "Oh hello" she said with a little swaying and a flirty smile as if she were in awe of the man who just saved her from falling.

"Arn't you a handsome devil, I apologizes for the behavior of my lover, Perhaps you could let me take you to dinner sometime to make up for his rudeness." she said in a drunken whisper to Mike, creating a door in if they needed it. "juss write yur numbr on a napkin" she said with a wink. Managing to stand upon her feet again she wobbled back to Dante's side, and slapped his shoulder. Before collapsing on him and forcing him to hold her up.

"I like Staten Island, you could make me your queenish person." she said to Dante, trying to steer him in the direction of leaning more to liking the idea, so they could form a plan of eliminating the don and his family. "I mean baby, hellish kitchen is a dump compared to Staten island."

"Oh my gosh, i'm so sorry i am such an airhead sometimes" she said turning toward Mike with the matching hand gestures of a Brooklyn native, "I'm Cassidy"
"oye I don't feel so good Dany," she said forcing him to help her stay standing. Placing a hand behind her back for Mike to hand over the napkin she had seen him writing on with his phone number. With it in hand she turned slightly away from Dante so she could shove it into her cleavage.
 
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Dante was getting lost in his emotions and quickly losing his façade of drunkenness as revelations came to light. The Riggo family had, in fact, turned on his uncle and murdered him, the Don scarcely respected him enough to deny it. They were clearing house, making way for this Mike imbecile and more of his old-country ilk. Blood was everything to the mob, even above loyalty or money. His Uncle Tony had been loyal to the family until his last—Tony had known that he’d always be an outsider to the Riggos, and sought to overcome this disadvantage through his deeds, eagerly taking on tasks that other, higher ranking mobsters were skittish to attempt.

Uncle Tony was never much of a thug himself—as Mike seemed to be from his physique, rather Tony’s skill was in his associations. He was a people person with the negotiating skills to sell a ketchup popsicle to a lady in white gloves. Tony had a way of playing the game like a chess board, keeping all of his pieces blind to the bigger picture while he utilized each piece’s unique skill set to win the game. Perhaps the game had passed Tony by. There was no room in organized crime for the facilitators. Not anymore.

It occurred to Dante that this Mike may well have done the hit on Tony himself.

It was a good thing that Matilda was there. While Dante was seeing red, on the verge of drawing his weapon from concealment and going out in a blaze of glory, Matilda was staying in character, milking this new player Mike for information, ingratiating herself to him, setting him up for a hard fall. The instincts of a classical “Cleaner.” Make the problem vanish instead of making a bigger mess. Though watching Matilda make flirtatious overtures toward this meathead who likely did his uncle did little to ease Dante’s rage, watching her continue the charade reminded him of the point he’d made over and over to her—no bloodshed if it was avoidable.

Whether or not there was any real potential of avoiding bloodshed was still a dubious proposition at best. Serious mobsters like Don Riggo didn’t usually reveal their hand like this unless he was certain of someone’s allegiance or was certain of their impending death. When Matilda returned to his side, Dante decided that he’d better stop pressing his luck and make an escape. The Riggo family clearly couldn’t be counted on for help and it was pretty clear that they had no intention of honoring Tony’s wishes or territory.

“You’re making a fool out of yourself, you drunken disgrace,” Dante snapped, noting the slip of paper Matilda had just secured, “go back to the car and wait for me there, tell the driver to start the engines.”

“What’s wrong? Leaving so soon, Dante? I thought you were staying for dinner.” Don Riggo smirked, rising from his chair for the first time. The room seemed to darken as he rose to his full height, a terrifying presence even at his advanced age.

“Yeah, you might hurt my feelin’s if ya split like this. I mean ya just got here, and Miss Cassie over there seems eager to get to know me better.” Mike chimed in, advancing on the retreating couple. He cracked his knuckles, muscles bulging beneath his dress shirt.

“You knew we weren’t going to stay for dinner when you invited us. This isn’t over, Riggo. Hear me? I’m not just going to lie down and take this.”

“Your girl looks like she’d like to lie down and take it.” Mike chimed in.

“Careful now, Dante. That sounded almost like a threat. Don’t forget, you can’t count on your uncle to be your balls for you.”

“You’re confused. It was you who got your balls from Uncle Tony.” Dante said, cautiously backing his way out of the parlor and back into the foyer, “you would have been rubbed out a decade ago if my uncle hadn’t been fixing things for you.”

“Your uncle was only ever as valuable as his connections. His big ‘Cleaner’ that he’d never let anybody meet is long dead, we know it. He made the mistake of living too long, kid. Don’t you make the same mistake.”

“Funny thing… nobody ever realizes they’ve lived too long until they’re gone. Watch your back, old man.”

With that, Dante slammed the front door, still backing away from the Don and Mike who were advancing on him still. He all but dove into the back of the towncar and shouted at the driver to get them out of there, which he did, leaving behind a pair of dark black skids on the Don’s paver stone driveway.

“Shit! That sonofabitch!” Dante seethed, lashing out with one leg and kicking the back of the empty passenger’s seat, “alright Matilda, now we know what needs to be done. That Mike has to die, maybe the Don too. Let’s talk business.”
 
Matilda could see that Dante was on the verge of losing his cool. She wrapped her body around him making an even bigger drunken spectacle then before. Then he snapped into character by chastising her like a spoiled child. She gave him a big pout as he ordered her to the car. She began to swear at him, with some Russian she had picked up from some of her victims over the years and stomped off like he'd end up on the couch to the car.

She sat and waited patiently pulling out the gun that had been taped beneath her breasts, just in case she had to go rescue him. When he opened the door, and she realized it was him she placed it on her lap. He was irate and went on to tell her that Mike needed to die. That she had already planned on, the reason for getting his number.

Of course things would have been easier if he had just gone along with the plan of taking over Staten Island. Remain in the good graces, and she could have taken care of it all without him be a suspect. But he didn't, so now she was going to have to go another angle.

"Alright, but for my plan to work, you need to go into hiding. You'll need to set me up in a loft in my fake name, get me a clothing allowance and such. I'll call Mike for consoling and have you portrayed as a coward. That means you'll need to be somewhere they won't look. I have an apartment that's in Harlem you can stay at.

They won't think to look for you there because its considered beneath you. If it's one thing I've learned is that even when people run, they have things they can't live without. I once found someone just by the ice cream he buys. I'll need to establish myself as his girl, since becoming the dancer you've set me up to be. I'll first call mike crying that you disappeared. He'll take me out, and go home safely. The next time i call him crying because i blew my knee out. How am I going to live. He wants to own me, so he'll tell me that if i become his he'll take care of me."

As she was verbalizing her plan it became apparent that she was going to have to sleep with mike, and possibly even Don Riggo.

"Eventually after i'm a beloved girl of him and they stop investigating me."She rolled her eyes and then continued. "I'll give a frantic call to the Don that his nephew didn't show up for our date the night before and hasn't called or text. He'll console me, and soon as i gain his trust and move into his house, i'll being to slowly poison him to death. Periodically eliminating one of his men here and there to make him stress which will cause other issues." She smiled at her well laid out plan and looked over to mike.

"There's only one issue that I have to get resolved before i begin this. You have to take my virginity."
 
Dante was still livid as the town car sped away from the Don’s mansion, and though he found it mildly reassuring that Matilda seemed at ease and in control of the situation, her plan did little to soothe his already wounded ego or his seething rage. Go into hiding? Present himself as a coward? Let the Riggo family have their devious way with Matilda for God knows how long? None of this could have been any further from what he felt or wanted in this moment.

Deep down, he knew that she was right. Play the long game, maintain the advantage and let her do what she was raised to do. They hadn’t worked together often, but Dante knew enough to trust Matilda’s judgment in this. He’d need to get at Uncle Leo’s nest egg (much of which had been owed to Leon when he died) to properly pay Matilda for this job. He’d need to pay for Vinny to go into hiding as well, so as to be at full force when the time came to strike.

Matilda was taking all of the risk of the monumental task of wiping out a decades old mafia dynasty in less than a month and she was asking for very little. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one feeling that in spite of their professional relationship, they were somehow on the same side of this conflict, perhaps on the same side in a broader sense.

It was then she dropped the bombshell—

“I—um—well, if you—you want me to, um—I… I didn’t know that—well, I—I mean as long as you… Um…” Dante’s usually talented tongue had been struck dumb, he nearly had to bite his tongue in half to stop his rambling, he took a moment to compose himself, “I still need to get the money, but I have cash to pay you. Tell the driver how to get to your place in Harlem. We’ll work everything out there. I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Dante was relieved that he’d managed to reign himself in from the stammering mess he’d become for a moment there, but he was well and truly taken off guard. He’d never imagined that Matilda was a virgin, he knew that she’d killed more people than could be counted on both hands, but to never have known the intimate touch of a lover, it seemed out of character for her. Besides that, she’d already laid out plans to fuck two of the most dangerous gangsters on the East coast, but that plan hinged on him being her first sexual partner tonight? It was almost impossible to know what to feel.

Dante did, for certain, feel that his words weren’t sufficient to adequately express his true interest in Matilda’s proposal, so he leaned across the seat, draping his arm gently around her shoulders and kissing her slowly, deeply and tenderly.
 
Matilda didn't have finesse or any girly dreams about a boyfriend since she was little and pretended Leon was. It wasn't on her list of things to do. Her life revolved around her job. She was a Cleaner, and one of the best. Over time she had done some Long Con's, but this one was going to very intricate.

She listened as he talked and let things run through her mind in different scenarios. He draped his arm around her and brought his lips to hers giving her a kiss that had her insides melt. What the hell.. It kept her silent as she fell into suit and returned his kiss. Who would have thought that Dante could have a romantic side.

When their kiss ended she took a deep breath. Pondering the reactions he made her body have. She had never experienced that kind of reaction from being kissed before. Right now she didn't have time to think about this. She needed to add to the plan.

"We have to assume that they're going to be watching. A driver in this car in Harlem. No. Just take me to a hotel, we're going to assume your place is bugged. Tomorrow you'll buy me a condo in Staten island making it look as though you're accepting your fate. You'll move your stuff there, we'll play happy couple and you can teach me what you know about this whole sex stuff." Pausing for a moment she watched his facial expressions then continued

"Then we'll find someone that fits your build. He'll be wearing a wig or something and you'll exchange outfits. He'll leave as you, have the driver take him to the airport to any random destination. When he gets there he'll go to the bathroom on the way out change into some one else. We'll need two tickets one for you and one for his alias. They'll be chasing false leads for a while. You'll leave as him, from the condo and take the subway through random stops till you get to Harlem. Then you'll stay in character and be underprivileged looking. I need a list of the things you always eat, drink, etc. You will have to do without. If they find you, then our lives are forfeit."

Rolling Down the divider she said "Take us to The Ritz-Carlton".
 
The kiss was everything Dante was hoping it would be, electric, sincere and mutual. Matilda’s lips were even softer than they looked and her gentle, stuttering breath on the side of his face made him rock hard behind his designer slacks. He was thinking that they might as well get started right there, in the back of the car, since this was the first part of the plan, after all. But maybe he was jumping ahead of himself, Matilda seemed to think so, as she kept adding to the plan, heaping on layers of subterfuge—they apparently needed a lookalike, now in addition to the new properties.

Perhaps Matilda was nervous as well, perhaps this was how she coped with being unnerved, the planning impulse, compensate for her general uneasiness by planning ways to make the overall situation safer. He’d heard of worse coping mechanisms, but when she mentioned a desire to have him teach her about “sex stuff,” he couldn’t help but chuckle. It was hard to follow the specific details of her plan with this raging hard-on that he’d had since she told him that she wanted him to pop her cherry.

“I mean, some study ‘sex stuff’ for their whole lives and never master it, just how much are you expecting to learn? Besides, Mike and the Don might be into some fringe shit I never even heard of,” Dante smirked, trying to be playful in teasing Matilda, but also to confirm for himself that she knew what she was asking, “I’ll do whatever you think is best, but just be careful if you’re thinking of going to bed with either of those psychopaths, that’s all.”

When Matilda instructed the driver, Dante knew exactly which part of the plan Matilda intended to work on at the Ritz. He leaned across her, sliding his body along the length of hers, until his lips brushed her ear and his erection was pressed between her firm asscheeks. He reached his arm along her arm until his finger overlapped her finger and he rolled the partition back up.

“I guess what I’m saying is, you’ve got a lot to learn,” Dante whispered, his lips caressing the outer shell of her ear as his left hand began to move up her thigh, slipping under her skirt, “and not enough time to go over things twice.”

With the partition up, Dante continued to move his hand under Matilda’s skirt. He began laying gentle but passionate kisses along her neck, waiting for her to turn back toward him so that they could get back to the passionate kissing that was sure to lead them to step one of this very complicated plan of Matilda’s.
 
Matilda was trying to clarify the plan and all Dante seemed to hear was sex. Rolling her eyes she blocked his hand from going up her dress. "Behave, we have time, and i don't want you losing a finger in your haste." He seemed to have forgotten that she had weapons planted all over her body.

The Job, the job always came first, and her job required that he pay attention and do what she said so she wouldn't have to worry about his safety while she took out the Riggos. She had to admit though, he wasn't sloppy about his kisses. He seemed to know how to turn on a woman.

The car pulled up in front of the hotel and she climbed off of his lap and took the drivers hand out. She waited for Dante to exit then when back into character clinging to his arm and stumbling into the hotel. A suite was ready for them and they took the elevator up to the top floor to get their room.

Turning her back to Dante she asked him to unzip her dress. It slid to the floor once he did revealing to him the back of her strapless bra, and her thong panties. Her back was flawless and body well toned. She turned to face him and he could see the amount of knives secured on her thighs, Reaching into her bra she pulled out a garrote (choking wire), and laid it on the dresser. She also pulled out the gun that she had pulled out in the car.

She looked at him and shrugged "I always come prepared.". She then proceeded to take the knives from her body and put them on the dresser as well. Now she just had the jewels, the heels, and her bra and panties. Walking up to him she got on her toes and kissed him once again.
 
Dante chuckled at Matilda’s apparent brushoff in the limo, holding his palms up and relaxing back in his seat. It was easy to forget that Matilda was so inexperienced in the ways of love in spite of her wealth of experience in the art of killing. Dante was no stranger to killing, he’d certainly done his dirt overseas to earn the respect of those hard-assed, old-world made men, but it wasn’t something that he relished—not the way Matilda did. He understood her plan, even though he wasn’t thrilled with it as a whole, as it mostly involved him hooking up with Matilda, who he was already having complicated feelings about, and then basically falling off the planet for a few weeks while his bitterest rivals passed her around like an ash tray.

Nonetheless, in spite of his personal feelings, there was no denying that Matilda’s plan was the most air-tight way to get access to Mike and Don Riggo and for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, it turned him on to watch her break down and diagnose the situation—especially since he himself was still reeling from the revelation that Don Riggo had been responsible for his uncle’s murder.

“Don’t worry so much, beautiful,” Dante smirked as they pulled up in front of the hotel, “I’m the one who’s done this before, remember? I know the difference between a blade and pussy. But it’s your show, I’ll let you decide when the curtain comes up.”

As they climbed out of the hired car, Dante offered Matilda his arm to drape herself over, affecting the same drunken demeanor as before. Maintaining the charade, Dante left his credit card at the front desk when he booked the room. He was tempted to drop the little performance at the elevator until he noticed the distinct Italian suit on the wiseguy he didn’t recognize who was clearly marking them from the phone bank across from the elevators. The thought that the Riggos were already marking them made Dante feel kind of sick, but he decided not to make a big deal of it, opting instead to stick to Matilda’s plan.

Dante held the door open for her, latching and dead-bolting it behind himself before moving over to help Matilda undress. As her dress fell away from her perfect body, he planted a soft, unassuming kiss on her shoulder before she turned to face him again. When she kissed him, he kissed her back, hands moving greedily over the exposed skin of her back and shoulders. Her lean, firm body felt like it was carved from marble and wrapped in silk.

Dante’s hands caressed their way down Matilda’s body, joining for a moment to unclasp her bra before moving lower, one wrapping around the underside of her smooth thigh while the other caressed and squeezed her firm ass. He lifted her from the ground without much effort, the bra falling away as he lowered her gently onto the bed, the expensive jewels around her neck gathering in the small pool between her collarbones. He broke the kiss reluctantly, letting one hand away from her body to untie his tie and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

“I’ll be gentle with you this time, babe,” Dante said softly, shrugging out of his shirt to reveal his sculpted shoulders and chest, “but if you’re really going to seduce the Riggos, we have a lot of ground to cover. Just let me know if I’m moving too fast.”

With that, his slacks and belt fell around his ankles and he was kneeling down to grip the hem of her panties between his teeth, slipping them off of her hips using only his mouth. When he stood up again, he was completely naked, her panties still dangling from the corner of his mouth with a wry smile across his lips.

“Point of no return, sugar. Tell me you want it and I’ll give it to you.”
 
If Matilda had to say one thing about Dante', the boy knew how to kiss. He was well deserving of his title to be a ladies man. Now she understood why. He wasn't stupid as others had called him behind his back, nor was he impulsive. He had taken her plan as she formulated it and just went with it. This was her area of expertise. Normally she preferred the quick and easy, but she knew how to do a well laid out plan if she had to. After all that was all life was ..a long drawn out con.

It did take her a moment to get into being picked off the ground. Her body had gone stiff before allowing herself to just let go and get into his seduction. He happened to look quite adorable with her panties hanging from the corner of his mouth. Having grown up in and out of foster care and living on the street here and there. Modesty had never been something she had as a hindrance. So laying her naked on this over sized plush bed naked staring up at this insanely attractive man with what she gathered was an above average appendage wasn't as nerve wrecking as she imagined it might be.

"I appreciate you taking the time to teach me the art of fucking, and making it as pleasant as possible for me." she stated rather blankly. "I'm sure that when it's time for me to bed the idiot and his father i'll be less then impressed after your expert tutelage. So to answer your question, yes I'm ready, well as ready as i can be to be impaled by your penis .. you do have protection?"

It was probably to late to be thinking about such things, perhaps it was just nerves kicking in. She had never needed to worry about such things before. How had she forgotten to think of protection? She was going to need to get on birth control tomorrow. There was no way she was going to be toting around one of the Riggos bastards.
 
Dante couldn’t hold back an abrupt chuckle at Matilda’s unique and dispassionate version of pillow talk—“the art of fucking” just pushed him over the edge. He held up a hand to try and convey to Matilda that he wasn’t laughing at her, even though he kind of was. She was typically so competent, focused and professional, it was beyond strange to see her so vulnerable and… for lack of a better word, clumsy about something that was so second nature to Dante.

“You are so fucking adorable,” Dante chuckled, “as for protection, don’t worry. I had a vasectomy before I moved to Italy. Don Riggo and Mike don’t seem like the safe sex type, you ought to get used to the feeling of being cum inside. But first, I think we’d better work on setting the mood… just lay back and relax. I’ll get you warmed up.”

This promise was followed by a gentle kiss on her bottom lip, his hands moving hungrily down the sides of her firm, lithe body. His kisses trailed down her throat, over her chest, over her stomach and slowly working his way between her thighs.

Slipping Matilda’s thighs up onto his broad shoulders, Dante gently wrapped his lips around the subtle nub of her clit, letting his tongue delve between her damp slits and come up to caress her little button from below. His mouth made a damp smacking sound as he began sucking her clit, drawing it out from under its fleshy hood.

Dante let his tongue writhe and caress her exposed nub for several moments before letting his tongue delve inside of her, curling and sliding around inside of her, lapping at her sweet juices. His back arched as he pressed his tongue a little deeper, curling upward to feel for her G spot along the upper walls of her slick sex.

If his patented cunnilingus didn’t help open up Matilda and get her into the sex frame of mind, Dante didn’t know what it would take.
 
Matilda just continued to look at him blankly when he laughed at her statement and let it roll off. She had never been good with commuication in the real world. She knew how to manipulate, how to taunt, how to tease and how to become a character that she would associate with some sort of movie personality. But this thing with Dante, well it was just work.

She was relieved a little to hear that he had a vasectomy. The last thing she wanted to do was bring in a child to this world. That decision she had made a long time ago. After all she came from an abusive family, and then right in to being a killer. Oh how she had missed Leo. At first everything she did was in hopes that he would have been proud of her.

Her mouth laid slightly open after he had kissed her bottom lip. His hand expertly moving over her curves and his mouth found her nub. She had tried to follow his instructions and had just closed her eyes and absorbed the feelings he was giving her. As his tongue caressed her nub, she let out a gasp, moans soon began to follow. His tongue dove into her and she gasped again at the surprise of it. The feeling was something unique and different. Yet it was also so wonderful and invigorating. Soon he had her panting and moaning. She gave into the feelings she was having without being reserved or prickly.

Her body arched and her hips lifted inviting his tongue to continue it's assault upon her virgin hole.
 
“There you go,” Dante sighed, his breath warm between her thighs as his hands made themselves wide embracing her hips, pulling his face back into the warm, wetness of her slit.

This time Dante let himself dive deeper into the project of educating Matilda in the art of sex, his tongue moving deeper into her, while not going so deep as to threaten her maiden’s head. He let his tongue flicker from high to low, lashing her warm wetness into his mouth before wrapping his lips around the entirety of her slender little hole and slurping loudly.

Next, Dante resumed his sucking, focusing his mouth into a smaller ring until he was again sucking on her clit with his tongue busy flickering over the tip. Using his lips to suckle the sensitive little nub out from under its hood, he traced its outline with his tongue several times before going back to flicking it up and down like a light switch.

Dante released her clit with a “Pop!” of his lips, pressing his stubbly face back between her thighs and driving his tongue as deep as he dared without threatening her hymen. He twirled his tongue in a small circle first, slowly widening its circumference with each lap of his tongue writhing inside of her. He continued this tongue tornado ritual for several more moments, beginning to hum against her sex while he vigorously turned his head from side to side, grasping her hips and raising her body to meet his face.

When Matilda’s moans reached a crescendo and he judged her to be sufficiently wet and ready to be fucked for the first time, he gave her clit a fond farewell flicker of his tongue before rising up and wiping his face on his shoulder as he crawled up her nude, prone body. His left hand caressed her breast as his now rock-hard cock came to lay gently against the cleft of her sex and his lips descended to passionately kiss her again, letting his tongue share a small taste of her sweet, untainted sex.

“Alright, beautiful. Here it comes,” Dante sighed as the kiss broke, his breath gently sweeping a stray lock of hair away from her face, “make a wish.”

With that, Dante gripped the shaft of his weighty, swollen cock and lined it up with her weeping slit. He slid himself inside in one smooth stroke, not halting or hesitating, tempering his desire to be gentle with his need to end the painful bit of taking her virginity as soon as possible. He’d heard the pain of deflowering compared to ripping off a Band-Aid, in that it was less painful when done quickly and all at once.

Matilda’s already wet and hot pussy bloomed with a new, more intense heat and he knew that she was bleeding. He held himself there, buried inside her, letting her grow accustomed to his size inside of her.

“You alright? Am I hurting you?”
 
Whatever she may have thought about Dante' before, whatever hesitation or doubts that may have lied dormat prior, they were all gone now. All she could think was how wonderful it felt to have this mans tongue and mouth teasing and taunting her vagina.

He had her moaning, gasping, gripping the bed sheets, writhing, bucking and breathless as something inside of her was building. Something incredible was going to come, she could feel it rising, could feel the need, the urge, the desire for her entire body to just explode into a million pieces.

He taunted, he hummed, he twirled, he did things that she couldn't even describe. She was on a cloud of pre orgasmic bliss that she never wanted to end. His lips found hers and she found herself returning this sexual hunger, desire, lust, and want with his. She wasn't sure what she wanted, she was in a daze of new sensations that had her ready to burst.

He warned her it was coming, he meant she thought after words she was to hold her breath with his make a wish statement. But in a flash a searing pain shot through her and it took all of her effort not to punch him in the head. Her body lay frozen, the former glow of the almost orgasm was gone, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

It took her a moment to contemplate the meaning of the words that came from his lips. A response, he asked her a question, what was the question...oh thank god the pain is disappearing.. Her eyes fluttered and opened looking into his handsome concerned face.

"Just stay there for a few more moments" she said softly feeling slightly vulnerable. This was an odd new feeling. "The pain is going away, god it felt liked you stabbed me with a knife. This is it though right? Once I recover, i don't have to go through this every time?" Feeling stupid for having to ask she realized in that moment that she didn't know anything about sex. Of course she knew how babies were made. But as far as the actual techniques and reactions, things were murky. "When you were down there, there was a building of something awesome, i felt like i was gonna burst..I didn't want it to end...was that what they call the building of an orgasm?"
 
Dante just smiled reassuringly as he stayed there, cradling Matilda in his arms with his cock buried inside of her to the root. He gently ran his palm across her face, carefully moving a few strands of hair away from her face. He just stayed there, letting her pussy clench, stretch and adjust to accommodate his size.

“You got it, just let me know when you’re ready,” Dante responded to her request that he hold in place for a while longer, “yeah, that’s it. You’re a woman now, that pain is never going to happen again, in fact it’s only going to be less for the rest of the night. Yes, I mean, I think that was the build-up to an orgasm, I didn’t feel what you felt, but you seemed to be getting close from what I’ve experienced of women having orgasms. If you thought that was awesome, wait until we get to the real thing. I’m going to start moving again, if you’re ready.”

When Matilda made no urgent move to stop him, Dante slowly began withdrawing his large, blood-streaked cock from inside her warm, tight little hole. He felt the crown of his cock dragging against her insides as he withdrew, following the curves of her inner walls before halting with just the head of his cock inside. His arm muscles flexed as he eased back inside her, gently this time, trying to massage away the discomfort he’d caused.

“We’re going to need to cover a lot of ground, if the Don’s reputation is any indication,” Dante whispered, not intending to intimidate Matilda, but merely hint that her education had a lot more time and effort to go, “I know the Don is a sadist, I don’t doubt that Mike probably is too. If they can, they’ll probably try to fuck you until you’re delirious and then traffic you out of the country. You need to be ready for some rough stuff with these guys.”

As he spoke, Dante was beginning to thrust deeper, moving faster a little at a time, trying not to exceed Matilda’s comfort, but also not wanting to turn her over to those maniacs unprepared. His breath turned ragged and he pushed himself up on his arms, gaining more momentum and intensity as he pistoned in and out of her tight, little sex.

“If you feel your orgasm building again, don’t fight it. Give in. Let yourself go,” Dante sighed, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his chiseled body as his hips moved faster, “I’m here for you. Let it go. Give it to me.”

With this, Dante used his regular rhythm of thrusts that he would with any other sexual partner. He didn’t want to give her anything she couldn’t handle, but she also needed to be on an accelerated schedule to pull off this plan that she was committed to—and if he was honest, Dante was really enjoying sex with Matilda. Their business connection endeared her to him deeper than the common, one-night-stands that he was used to. He would see her again, probably fuck her again and for some reason he trusted her more than most women he slept with.

When the impulse came upon him to kiss her again, he didn’t fight it.
 
Matilda took in the words that he said and prepared herself for another searing pain when he wanted to start again. But he had spoken the truth, that part was done. She was still slightly tender, but the pain was easily bearable, as the pleasure she was finding from his strokes with in her tight pussy were quite delightful.

"We have a couple days still to practice before you "disappear" A light gasp and purring came from her lips as he picked up the pace a little. "oh god Dante'" she found herself muttering as her hips came off the bed and she began to match the rhythm in which he was thrusting inside of her.

She didn't object when he kissed her, instead she kissed him back with a new passion. A hunger and desire that raged from with in her to have his seed populate her womb. Of course he was fixed, so there was no unwanted outcome. But she would need to get on the invitro or something. She doubted that The Sadist Don, or his idiot son would carry condoms.

On this night she would not cum, simply because of the discomfort level. But what she did learn that was he was good at this. She followed his ques by mimicking his actions, first with the rhythm, then the tongue in kissing. She allowed herself to be free with him, and her moans filled the room. If Matilda was anything, she was eager to learn new things.
 
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