Animus

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by S. W. Frank


  Alfonzo kicked his shoes a few feet away. Unbuckled his trousers and slid them down his legs. “Sí mamasita, you do.” Tonight he planned to cure himself. The last thing he wanted was his wife to believe she was undesirable when she was extremely hot. Once he stripped naked, he sat on the stair fully aroused and brought her facing him on his lap and she took him in, holding on to his dick so tight he grunt. Her legs widened like a frog with her toes pressed to his hipbones. “Lean back chica,” he coaxed and supported her spine with his hands and knees as she lifted and moaned, horny for her husband as she rode him hard.

  Alfonzo hissed at how good it was being inside his wife's pussy. He thrust up and in as one hand reached forward to stroke her clitoris in a light circular motion and she whimpered more as he caressed. She rotated her pelvis, bit her lip, and cursed him for making her wait so damn long and he cursed back. “Shit, babe you got me whipped!”

  “Oh honey me too…ah….me encanta follarte!” she exclaimed under the stimulation of her internal and external orgasmic zone. She fought the combustion and was unable to contain the euphoric sensation rushing throughout her body like a drug. She climaxed so quickly, she blushed.

  Alfonzo pulled her forward, kissing her throat, licking her like food. Whatever trepidations he had flew out the window when she recovered. The hunger returned and her ass bounced on his thighs as she cried, “I need you…oh…honey that’s when I’m whole.”

  The lyrics to that song played again. Selange was a pheromone and caused a fever. Goddamn, he burned. In urgency he brought her down to the base of the stairs, laying her atop his clothes on the floor, not giving a damn if they broke his phone. He squatted between her legs and pulled them around his waist scooting forward until he was back inside her honeycomb hiding place. Every piece of her he touched, making sure his dick massaged her thoroughly as he licked her from ear to stomach and then went up. His mouth sucked her pouty lips and then tongued the hell out of her, ignoring her muffled groans. His dick worked just fine. The erection persisted, he surpassed the critical moment and the joy of being able to make-love to his wife without fear thrilled him more.

  He licked her sweetness and an engorged dick buzzing with hornets pilfered the beehive. The stickiness was viscous sugar and he wanted more.

  The fear he had was replaced by greed and he took all the honey and to hoard for himself. His body glistened; the tattoos were 3D on muscled flesh. The work-outs he missed with Sal, he made up for with sex. He cupped her face hard, leaned forward and caressed her healed cheeks.

  Alfonzo’s aqua eyes were pools so deep, Selange drowned as he held her immobile to touch her erogenous zone. Her breasts were food which she pushed to his mouth when he bowed to nibble and suck. Her body craved him. The war of flesh pleasurable, and there was no shame in her defeat. 

  She clutched the hard biceps, gorgeously scarred and tatted. The indentations cutting across his abs glistened as they bulged with each rotational thrust. Selange’s lips parted, helpless and decadent under Alfonzo’s delightful assault. Her hands slipped free and she drifted in a cloud as he filled her with his love to state emphatically it was his heart she owned.

  It is the kiss, um loving and moist and the smell of Mentos which brought a smile as her body became languid and pliable.

  Her love arched higher.

  Passion consumed the air she breathed.

  Alfonzo’s love-making was fire, causing burn marks on her heart.

  Alfonzo held tight when her legs quivered violently and pumped more liquid flame and ice to her core. The tremble branched outward to every limb. In a forceful breath, he spoke into her mouth, “Never doubt how I feel about you, esposa. Te quiero cada día más, comprende babe?”

  He could have sold her a traveling circus, said the moon was cheese, for all she cared. He satiated her hunger and made her feel so beautiful; anything Alfonzo said would have received an affirmation. Her cry on the wave of yet another orgasm filled the wine cellar. “Yes, honey oh yes!”

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

   

   

   

  Behind closed doors in a sound-proof office, free of infestation is where Giuseppe stood pacing as he talked on a secure line with his young brother. Matteo had finally broken his silence to update the Don on the happenings during his rehabilitation and self-imposed exile with Shanda. “Fratello,” Giuseppe shouted. “You said nothing to me. I should have been there!”

  Alfonzo merely stated, “You were injured.”

  “You were, too.”

  “I was not injured in the head.”

  “That does not have anything to do with my hands!”

  “I disagree. The brain sends signals to the body which controls movement.”

  “Aye, you play with words like Uncle.”

  “So do you.”

  “I am upset, do not tease fratellino.”

  “So, how’s the family?” Alfonzo said changing the subject.

  “Buono and yours?”

  “Bueno,” was Alfonzo’s curt reply.

  “And the fuck-up of the family how is he?”

  “Alive.”

  “And the mess?”

  “Cleaned.”

  “Buono.” Giuseppe nodded. Another war is not what the family needed. Paolo had dulled his taste for these things. He missed his brother. “You will visit?”

  “Of course.”

  “You did not tell me that I injured you fratellino. I am saddened to hear this from others.”

  “You weren’t well. I forgive your crazy ass!”

  “I miss our famiglia in one room.”

  “As long as it’s not in a hospital.”

  “Or churches, I now fear cathedrals.”

  Alfonzo’s laugh was genuine. “And I fear steps of a church.”

  “Then you cannot climb and I cannot go in.”

  “We are hopeless.”

  “We are blessed to have life.”

  “This is some shit, we can finally agree on something.”

  “Matteo scowls at me. He cannot forgive me for my boyish urges.”

  “If he’s sitting in the same room with you and you’re still talking I say he has.”

  Giuseppe halted. “Sí, fratellino…si.”

  “Alright big-head I need to go to sleep.”

  “You sleep. Ha!”

  “Yes, I sleep.”

  “I will see you soon.”

  “Yeah, adios!”

  Giuseppe sat. He grinned at his brother-in-law. “We will remain friends for many years. Let us forget the past. As men let us begin again, eh mio amico?”

  “Now I am your friend?”

  “Feel honored.”

  Matteo’s pearly white teeth glistened. “I am not honored. I recall the last friend you had received a knife to the heart.”

  “Ah, sí. I forgot about that. Then we are family, va meglio?”

  “We became family when I married your sister, cazzo!”

  “Ah, so then the bad boy incident with Lucia occurred before we were famiglia, no?”

  “Be glad it did. Amelda will kill me if I kill you.”

  “You fear Amelda, more than me?”

  “I fear loss of family. They are what I love.”

  “Sí, which is my love.”

  “Sí cognato, I agree.”

   

   

  ~ ~

   

   

   

  “I’m sorry about the other day. I got tied up love,” Tony apologized.

  “Two days?”

  “Tiffany, look I had business to take care of.” His lady was pissed and rightfully so. He had to deliver Sergio to a safe-house and make sure the kid was comfortable until Alfonzo sent for him, which didn’t occur until a short time ago. He snuggled closer in the bed, pressing
himself against her luscious ass, but she scooted away.

  “No nookie tonight.”

  “Who said I wanted nookie?”

  “Yeah, right. I know you Tony.”

  The masculine face with chiseled features of a rugged model didn’t smile. He rarely smiled, just habit. “And what do you know about me?”

  “You’re a charmer.”

  “And what else?” His hand massaged her abdomen. He inched closer feeling her melting.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Hmmm, you think I’m hopeless?”

  “No, I think you’re naughty.”

  “Then say naughty. Incorrigible, ah, I don’t know if I like that word.”

  He spooned her now and she didn’t pull away.

  The warmth between lovers ignited into a flame.

   

   

  ~ ~

   

   

  The man sitting with his back to the patio door, smoking a cigar with a six-pack within arm’s reach on a Saturday night didn’t turn when the sliding door opened. Alfonzo stared at the figure’s back, inhaling the rich tobacco from Cuba, feeling a sense of dejá vu. Alberti often appeared unannounced and he missed the old man’s visits. But, he realized despite the many losses over the years, there were gains. In the symbolism of the beer lived Vincent because he too liked to drink. Alfonzo smiled, it was actually nice to see Nico. He represented Alberti and Vincent in image and spirit.

  Nico heard the homeowner and waited for him to get comfortable, lean back and then survey the night sky. Cigar clutched in the corner of his mouth, Nico removed a beer from the plastic ringer and shoved it at the figure. “Drink with me.”

  The can was taken, lid opened and the cold brew gulped. The froth was wiped away before the homeowner spoke. “Cousin, I’m surprised to see you.”

  “Is it a good surprise?” Nico asked opening a beer and then settling back again with it. He stubbed out the cigar and placed it on the deck.

  “Yes, bueno.”

  A nod, a sip of brew and reflection in the dark between men followed. “I’ve begun painting in oils.”

  “Are you any good?”

  “A goddamn Picasso!”

  “I bet you are.”

  Another sip, more of a slurp as the pool shimmered beneath the moon. “It’s good not to have the tension between us; I like it better this way.”

  The hand bearing a jeweled ring clutched the cool can, waiting and listening. Uncle had taught Alfonzo the importance of patience and strategy. Vincent, humor and duty. With Nico he learned many lessons, fortitude, forgiveness and love are only a few. Nico had come to talk, which is rare.

  “When a man denies he is blind, he exists in darkness. But, when a man accepts darkness he sees light,” is the Albertism Nico recited.

  Alfonzo chuckled. “And vibrant colors.”

  “And dancing people.” Nico’s lips wore a grin. He missed the friendly banter with Alfonzo and his father. “And at times truth.”

  “And the truth you see?”

  “I felt such pain when I saw you lying as in death, cugino. It is the ache I felt for my brother. I love you shit-head!”

  “And I you primo.”

  “Where’s Sergio?” Nico asked out of the blue. He didn’t like getting sappy.

  “Probably in the guest house watching porn.”

  “How’d it work out with the doc and the cop?”

  “Shit rhymes doesn’t it?” Alfonzo grinned. “The little girl didn’t have to quit her job but I’m glad she did. I guess the incident is why the doc took the internship in Switzerland with the neurosurgeon and she’s with him.”

  “Good strategy on your part.” Nico stated. “You know there are rules of La Costra Nostra. One of them is not associating with cops.”

  Alfonzo found Nico’s reference to an organization which copied some of the traditions of The Circle of Protectors in poor taste. “Since when does an ancient society such as yours follow the dictum of a faction yours precedes?”

  Nico had tested the kid and gave Alfonzo an A for his knowledge of the Giacanti history. “I don’t, just checking if you did.”

  “We make rules and adapt them as we please primo, besides some of their guidelines are not sensible in this day and age. Do not associate with cops.” Alfonzo chortled. “They do it all the time through bribery and family members on the inside who fix traffic infractions or tip the families about busts.” Alfonzo waved his ringed hand dismissively, “Ah, we’re another breed. I think it’s best we remain the hierarchal branch and lead.”

  “Spoken like a true Giacanti.” The head of a twin faced his former ward, now brother in arms. “I have seen my mother; she is married to a man which in peaceable times would be family.”

  “The king’s descendant, I know Nico.”

  Nico sat forward. “How long have you known –you little shit?”

  “Alberti told me.”

  “Ah, my father was a man of secrets. What else do you know?”

  “She’s blind and you were about to cap your mom in the head. Tsk, tsk Nico you’re a very bad son.”

  “What else do you know, huh?”

  “That’s all you’re getting from me, besides I’m sure there’s stuff you haven’t shared.”

  “Your eyes are everywhere cugino.”

  “Not everywhere, Sergio told me.”

  “And I thought he’d put a muzzle on that big mouth.”

  “Ha, he can talk a kid with ADHD to sleep.”

  “I have come with gifts.” Nico reached up under his seat and pulled out a linen cloth. He parted the material and handed Alfonzo a Bowie knife. The light caught the handle and accented the polished ivory. The blade was beautiful and deadly. “From me to you cugino, new beginnings.”

  Alfonzo grasped the weapon. Uncle Al’s blade could never be replaced. In a case it sat, broken and locked away. This was from Nico, a man he also admired and a gift he would cherish, like the wisdom found in maturity. “Mucho gracias, it is a very nice gift cugino.”

  “De nada kid.”

  “Ah, you never quit.”

  “Habit, son!” Nico teased imitating youth’s slang.

  Alfonzo chuckled and shook his head. “Man, that’s pitiful. I hope I do not suffer such embarrassing mid-life crises.”

  “My second gift.” Nico reached in his pocket and handed Alfonzo a sheet of paper with names and then rose with his beer. “I’m going to give my nephew a slap and then I’m going home. Come visit us soon, cugino.”

  Alfonzo held the paper and peered up at his protector. “I will.” His words were sober. “I see Alberti in you.”

  “I am his son, as much as you are Luzo’s. But, a time may come cugino, when you can no longer sit on neutral soil. Sicily is where you should be, it is where your Italian roots lie.”

  “Puerto Rico is home. Boricua hasta la muerte."

  “E sei anche siciliano fino alla morte,” Nico answered in Italian to remind him of his other roots. “Take care and tell the family hello.”

  “You too, adios.”

  Alfonzo watched Nico walk across the lawn. The confident strides of a hunter were swift and strong. When he disappeared from view, Alfonzo read the note. There were names, dates and a location.

  Nico had done his research and uncovered one of Alfonzo’s thorns. Time to pull it out!

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER THIRTY

   

   

   

  The boat skipped across the dark Caribbean Sea toward the island of Aruba. The lights in the distance were getting closer and the men aboard the craft were silent. The sea water held a scent of salt and danger, which Tony breathed in. Alfonzo wore a blank expression, as did the guy in black picking hi
s teeth. Four in total, counting Tony. The man steering the speed boat slowed as they neared the wharf, and then shut down the engine completely. He spoke in Spanish to Alfonzo before the craft was aligned with the dock. When it was tethered securely, the men jumped on to the wood planks.

  There wasn’t a soul visible on the beautiful night. A perfect vacation spot for the elite Tony thought as he followed the men away from the private pier and down a flight of sturdy timber and stones to sand. The lights he’d seen came from a window of a beach house. A deck holding a colorful umbrella and chairs where night or day a person could relax and gaze to the ocean was heaven for any man.

  When Alfonzo called and told him to bring his gear and come out for a chat. He hadn’t expected to find himself up in the air heading to parts unknown. They landed on an island in the middle of nowhere, off again to board a boat and ended up here. That chat never took place and Tony was smart enough not to ask why. From the looks of it, the conversation was clear. “Somebody’s about to die.”

  They stayed to the edge of the grass as they slide-walked on sand. The guy who’d picked his teeth took the lead. In the dark, he blended with the shadows and disappeared. The others tread leisurely forward, strong legs and bulging arms close to their center of gravity. The slight breeze rustling tropical trees was unable to bend muscle. 

  Then the man Estefan returned spoke conspiratorially to his employer and Alfonzo became energized. He took the lead, his tailored slacks and shoes impeccable as always as his feet kicked over grass. Tony had to appreciate the man’s detail to style, no matter the occasion. His short sleeve shirt was a dark blue with pockets and it accented the guy’s torso and neck. Beneath one side of his shirt there protruded a slight bulge from what Tony suspected was a gun holster. His shirt was not tucked in his trousers. When a breeze blew, the fine material waved like a flag to reveal a bone ivory hilt of a sharp blade.

  Yes, their visit to this remote vacation retreat was far from social. Tonight was Tony’s indoctrination.

  Alfonzo’s lithe arms bulged when he gestured to Estefan to go around the side of the house as they neared the patio. Tony could see inside the home from their angle, which wasn’t hard to do since the architecture incorporated natural lighting and to achieve this, required large glass windows.

 

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