“You do what you have to do to protect me and your children, Mick,” Roz said. “That motto you live by keeps us alive. It keeps you alive. That’s just the way it is. And if the world can’t handle that? Fuck’em.”
Mick smiled, and then laughed. “Watch your tongue, young lady,” he said. “You’re my wife.”
Roz smiled too. “You know what I mean.”
Mick considered her. He loved her loyalty and devotion. He loved her. He pulled her into his arms. “I know what you mean,” he said.
And for a long time they stood there holding each other, thinking, being there for each other. Roz especially was worried about Mick. And it wasn’t just about the fact that his day was already overloaded with so many things to do that he had only just arrived home to change for a party he himself had thrown. But it was more about the fact that his life was overloaded, and overloaded, not with bad decisions or even regretful decisions, but unfortunate decisions she wished he’d never had to make. But he had the strength to make the right call time and time again. He jokingly called it his dog’s life. Roz called it his mission. Somebody had to make the tough calls. And it had to be somebody strong enough to live with the blowback. Mick, for good and bad, always seemed to be that man.
Mick pulled back slightly from their embrace, and looked at Roz. He placed his hand beneath her chin and stared into her chocolate-brown eyes. “Marrying you,” he said, “was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Marrying you,” Roz said, “was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Mick looked from one of her eyes to the other eye as if he sought reason to craziness. “How could that be possible, Rosalind?” he asked her. “My lifestyle is dangerous, often illegal, and all manner of bad. Knowing my lifestyle, how can you say such a thing?”
Roz placed her hand on the side of his face. “Because I didn’t fall in love with your lifestyle,” she said. “I fell in love with you. You lifestyle came with the package, but it wasn’t the package. You were the prize.”
Mick smiled a smile that not only showed his age, but the emotional toll that lifestyle had taken on him. But for Roz it was his best look. It showed vulnerability and strength, all rolled up in one. She pushed up on tiptoes, and kissed him.
Mick lifted her up into his arms, and returned the kiss. But he returned it with more energy, with more pinned-up passion than she thought he had the strength to manage. But Mick was strong, and he was showing it as he kissed her.
When they had finished kissing, and he sat her back down on her feet, they both knew they weren’t about to stop there. Mick was a big man with a big appetite in every way, especially in the bedroom, and Roz was just the kind of woman to keep him fed and overfed if needed. Today, she felt, was one of those needful days.
Mick felt it too. That was why, when she pushed him down on the window seat, with his back to the world outside, and she knelt down before him, his admiration for her increased exponentially. Unlike any woman he’d ever so much as touched, Roz knew how to treat him. She knew how to give him exactly what he needed, and exactly when he needed it.
He needed it right now. Roz could tell by his penis alone. It had become so aroused, so juicy and thick, that it was already stiffening. And she gladly put her mouth to work, and gave into his need. The taste of salt and pre-cum, the smell of his manliness, draped her in sensuality as she sucked him.
Mick stretched out his arms on either side of the wall that enclosed the window seat, and pressed his hands against it. His back was to their guests outside, and but for the privacy window film they would have been a voyeur’s delight, but right now Roz was his delight. And she was putting it on him. She was giving him the kind of head no other woman had a clue how to give to him. From his sensitive underside, to his balls, Roz gave his body a sexy treat.
And he closed his eyes and enjoyed it. He could hear the music outside. He could hear the laughter and joy. But he wouldn’t exchange anything for being with Roz. She was where he wanted to be. And this gift of hers; this ability to sex him in ways that still fascinated an unbelievably experienced man like him, overwhelmed him. He leaned his head back and did what he always fought against: he came. When he realized he had cum so fast and was cumming in her mouth, for her sake he tried to pull out so that the rest could trail down his thighs. But Roz kept him in, and would not allow him any passage out. She swallowed and giving him her all. Mick could not believe the love he felt for her when she did that for him.
When it was over, he knew it was just beginning. She thought it was over. She even went to the bathroom, cleaned her mouth and gargled, and brought a damp cloth to clean his cock. But as soon as she finished cleaning him up, he removed the cloth from her hand, tossed it aside, and pulled her to him. She was still on her knees from cleaning him, and as he lifted her to her feet, he removed her leather jacket and began unbuttoning every button on her blouse.
“Do we have time?” she asked, although she was inwardly hoping that they did.
“Always time for you,” Mick replied in a voice still husky from his own climax.
And when he pulled her between his bare legs, and opened her blouse wide, revealing her high, unblemished and natural bare breasts, his mouth watered. Hers did too, as he began sucking her.
Roz looked above his head at the life and energy and the people in their backyard. Family. And all of these strangers, these Sinatras and Gabrinis, were her people now. Her family. Good, strong men. Smart, devoted women. Her kind of people. But more importantly, she and Mick’s network of support. They were no longer two people against the world. They had help now.
Roz closed her eyes, as Mick clasped her breasts in his hands and massaged as he sucked her. It was that combination, the rub and the suck, that turned her on the most. And she was completely turned on. She arched her back, placed her hands around his neck, and reveled in the joy of his lovemaking.
She didn’t realize he was pulling down her pants and panties until they were beneath her ass. Then she shimmied to make his pull down easier. But pulling her tight-ass leather pants off of big, go-go boots was not going to happen. He sat her bare ass down on his bare dick, with her back against his stomach, and began removing her boots. They had guests. They had people to entertain. But Mick was taking his time getting her out of her clothes. His world was a fast-paced world, just as fast-paced as the excitement in their backyard right now. But what Roz loved about Mick was how he slowed down, how he took his time, when he was with her.
When he had her completely naked, as he was, he kept her where she sat: on his lap wrapped into his loving arms. He lifted her slightly, so that his relaxed penis could rest against the outside of her vagina, and for a long time all he did was hold her, and rest the side of his face against the side of her face, and take in her wonderful perfumed scent. His big arms were tight beneath her breasts, as they were wrapped across her stomach, and they both closed their eyes and savored the moment. Their room was warm and inviting, with the fire burning brightly in their bedroom fireplace, and although they were at rest, they felt as if they were flying. They felt more alive and high than any bird in the sky. They were together. They had crossed over from being two, to being one.
Soon, Mick lifted Roz’s legs until her bare feet were resting on his thighs, and with full access, took his hand and began massaging her inner thighs, and then her vagina. First rubbing her outer folds, and then her inner clit. And then, when he eased a finger inside of her, and she began to lean back against him, even his satiated cock came back to life too. And as he made her wet, as he massaged deep inside of her and rubbed around her wetness, his cock began to spring up as if it was paying full attention too. It was no longer a question of if they were going to fuck, but when.
It didn’t take long. After a few more rubs, after more of her vaginal juices released, he lifted her up, sat her on the window seat he had just vacated, and leaned down. When he opened her legs and began licking her, she found herself pressing her hands aga
inst the side walls of the seat enclosure just as he had done when she was doing him. And he did her. He licked her with almost slow motion licks that started from near her butt crack and moved all the way back up, to her clit. And he did it over and over again. Until he parted her folds, and began to eat.
Roz’s entire back was plastered against the tall window as he ate her. Her stomach was pushing in and out as Mick licked around the inside of her and sucked in the juice. Her legs lifted up onto his shoulders when he bit her deep inside, and his tongue wiggled his way into her deepest pockets, and began to lick down there. Every pore within her being felt the sensations. And when he began to move his mouth up and down along her vagina, simulating sex, she nearly passed out from sheer sensuality. She was close to an orgasm, but she held on, for his dick. She wanted, above anything else, to feel his dick inside of her.
He honored her wish almost as soon as she started thinking about it. He licked her clit a few times more and then stood up. He looked so big and imposing when he stood up, a man among men, that Roz found herself looking up at him. If those people outside could see him now, they would be as impressed as she was. And Mick Sinatra, the one man she thought didn’t have it in him to treat her right, treated her like the queen of queens. Who would have thunk it, Roz thought with an inward smile that escaped.
Mick saw her little smile and found himself smiling too. He loved that she was having happy thoughts. But he didn’t dwell on it for long. He couldn’t. She was radiating too much sexy heat for him to think of anything other than fucking her. Pleasuring her. Pleasuring himself.
He took his fully aroused dick in his hand, and guided it inside of her already saturated pussy. It went in easy. He loved the easiness of his entry. But as he kept pushing inside of her, he loved the friction he began to encounter more. Because Roz was tight. She was tight because she was his woman and no one else’s. She was tight, Mick felt, as a reward given only to a vagina that didn’t allow different dicks fucking it. Roz won that award hands down. No other man had ever entered her since he entered her. He would stake his life on it.
But her pussy also had a talent, unlike any Mick had ever fucked, of knowing exactly how to contract around him. Maybe it was because they were lovers in love. Maybe it was because she just had that gift. He didn’t know which it was, just that it was a fact. She knew how to close in around his rod, and she closed in tight. So tight that when he began stroking her, it felt like a wonderful battle of wills.
Roz felt it too. The more his rod stroked her, the tighter she clamped around it. Until they got in rhythm. And then it was no battle at all, but pure pleasure. Mick stood at that window, looking out but seeing no one, and fucked her long and hard. Roz’s legs were opened as wide as they could go, and Mick had his hands on the bottom of her feet, as he gave his body a workout and fucked her. His pose, and her pose, made it all the more freeing. It was a recipe for great sex. It was a recipe for cumming together. And it happened. They came as one. She leaned up, Mick leaned into her, and they wrapped their arms around each other in controlled ecstasy, as they came.
When Mick did a final push in, where the last of his cum shot out, he eased out of her in a long glide that highlighted the fact that he was still stiff as he had been when he first entered her. When he moved out, her vagina was swollen and still throbbing. And his cum inside of her began to ooze out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Sinatra clan grabbed for the lobsters as they hit the table, while the Gabrini clan grabbed for the crabs. All except Reno. He found both disgusting.
They were at one long table. Reno was sandwiched between Big Daddy Charles Sinatra and Tommy Gabrini, while Sal sat beside Charles. Gemma Gabrini, Sal’s wife, sat beside Sal. Trina Gabrini sat on the opposite side of the table, across from her husband Reno. She was sandwiched between Jenay Sinatra, who sat in front of her husband Charles, and Makayla Sinatra, Police Chief Brent Sinatra’s wife. Brent, who was Charles’s oldest son, sat beside Makayla.
Reno looked around with pride as everybody ate their seafood. On first blush, he thought, the Gabrinis and Sinatras seemed to have a thing for African American women. Every one of the main men in the family were married to black women. All except Tommy, who wasn’t married to anybody, but was dating one.
But it seemed like an interracial lovefest up and down the line. Until Reno looked further down, at the far end of the table. Charles’s sons Tony, Robert, and Donald, along with Mick’s sons Joey and Teddy, all had pretty white girls at their sides. The only exception was Gloria, Mick’s biracial daughter, who had a black man at her side. Ashley and Carly Sinatra, Charles’s African-American adopted daughters, were with black guys too. Jimmy Mack, Reno’s biracial son from a previous relationship, was down there too, with his African-American wife Val. Jimmy had his baby girl in his arms, while Val ate seafood. Then she would take a break, take the baby, and give him a chance to eat. Jimmy was a fully involved father. Reno was proud of him.
The younger Gabrinis and Sinatras, the minor children, had already eaten and were playing at the far end of the massive backyard, running around like wild banshees, while the grownups did their thing.
“Try one, Reno,” Trina said as she placed a blue crab in front of him.
Reno looked at the red claws, and the pop eyes staring up at him. “And why would I want to do that?” he asked.
“Because I want you to. Try it, you’ll like it.”
“You will,” Tommy said, agreeing with Trina.
Reno gave in and watched Trina as she popped open the shell of her crab. Reno popped open the shell of his crab. But the first meat he pulled off caused Trina to slap his hand. “Don’t eat that,” she said.
Reno looked at her. “And why not?” he asked.
“Dead man’s fingers,” she said. “You don’t eat that.”
Reno frowned. “Dead man’s fingers? What the fuck?”
The people in their vicinity laughed.
“It’s just a term, Reno,” Trina said. “Just open the crab like this,” she demonstrated with her own, “and eat the meat inside.”
But before Reno could open anything, he was looking at what was beneath the so-called dead man’s fingers. “What’s all of this slimy looking gook?”
“Such a tough guy,” Trina said with a smile.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Tommy said. “It’s just the crab’s shit, that’s all.”
Reno’s eyes went bigger than a saucer. “Their shit?” He was astounded. “Nasty sonafabitch! Why the fuck would I want to eat somebody’s shit?”
They all laughed.
But Reno was serious as a heart attack. Especially when he thought about his mouth on Trina’s. “And you better not eat any of it either, Tree! I forbid you!”
Trina, Tommy, Sal and Gemma were laughing so hard they were crying. Trina was born and raised a Mississippi girl. Crabs and their mess were nothing new to her. Tommy wasn’t raised around crabs, but most of the girls he dated were, and they introduced him early on. He loved them too. Even the Sinatra men, who were raised to prefer New England lobsters, were laughing too.
By the time Mick and Roz made it outside, both freshly showered and sexually gratified, the laughter had died down, but Reno’s determination had not. He wouldn’t eat a crab if it was the last seafood on earth. He claimed he wouldn’t eat one even if it was the last food on earth, but Trina knew better than that.
The Sinatra women all looked up when Mick walked up. Reno, Sal, and Tommy had already met him, but this was the first time that their wives were in his presence. And each one of them were impressed but not surprised. His brother Charles was a gorgeous man. They were certain his younger brother wouldn’t be far behind.
And he wasn’t. In the eyes of the ladies, Mick gave every man out there a run for their money. Even Tommy’s beauty couldn’t match it. Mainly because Mick had beauty mixed with danger that did something to women. He wasn’t just a bad boy like the others around the table. He was a thug. He was th
e baddest boy of the bad boys. He was the kind of man women wouldn’t mind having sex with, because they knew he would bring it, but would never ever consider getting romantically involved with. But to their surprise a sensible woman like Roz, a woman they had met earlier and immediately liked, was not only romantically linked to Mick the Tick Sinatra, but actually married him. Even Trina and Gemma, who’d been through hell and back with their own men, wasn’t sure if they would have those kind of balls.
Mick was introduced to each one of the ladies, and he politely nodded in their direction. But he wasn’t exactly a charming host. He behaved, it seemed to them, as if he was tolerating all of this, but wasn’t comfortable with it. It was as if all of this feel-good family stuff was too Brady Bunch for him.
But as Roz took her seat at the table, and he excused himself to answer a cell phone call, the mood relaxed again.
“He’s not exactly a big talker,” Trina said. “Is he?”
Roz smiled. “He picks his spots.”
“You mean once he gets to know us he’ll talk us to death?”
Roz laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but he’ll talk.”
“He’s very attractive,” Gemma said, and everybody looked at her. Especially Sal. She blushed. “I don’t mean to me. I mean generally.”
“And to you too,” Trina said. “Own it, girl, because it’s nothing but the truth. He makes your man look like the front end of a dog.”
Everybody laughed. Except Sal. “And what does he make your man look like, Tree?” Sal asked her, looking over at Reno. “The rear end?”
Everybody laughed at that one. Except Reno. “Very funny,” he said.
But when Mick returned to the group, he didn’t sit down beside his wife. He, instead, stood at the table and proceeded to speak. Roz could see the distress on his face.
“Sal,” he said, “I want to say this in front of everybody.”
Mick Sinatra 3: His Lady, His Children, and Sal Page 14
