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Message-ID: <48780asstr$1092129006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: rache696@yahoo.com (Rache)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 00:23:07 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Hitwife Pt2 (F/M+, Violence, Rape, murder, FemDom, CP, crime)
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Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 05:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Story Codes:
F/M+, Violence, Rape, murder, FemDom, CP, crime

Copyright: Rachael P. Ross 2004 all rights reserved. This story may be
archived and/or reposted so long as my name, email rache696@yahoo.com
and this notice are included in the message body. Intended for the
FREE and private entertainment of mature audiences only. Keep out of
reach of children. All events and characters are fictitious for the
most part, any coincidences are probably coincidental. Any that
aren't, I will deny unto my denying breath.

=->+<-=

Hitwife (Part II)
Fiction by rache

I told Paul he would quit his job at Syracuse and apply for something
closer, like Columbia or City University, because we had to live in
the city. I wasn't going to give up my career for him. I sent a couple
guys from Charlie's crew with him, borrowing a truck from Mayflower,
since Lucky was one of their Union Reps, to bring everything back down
here. We'd keep it in storage until we found a house with enough room
for us to live comfortably. That would take him a couple days, even
with the guys helping. I told Charlie to make sure his boys took Paul
out and got him entertained. He needed a bachelor party. Charlie
grinned and said he knew what I meant, but I doubted it.

I called Jerry. He used to be a vice-cop, but got suspended for taking
bribes, then finally resigned when he got caught again. It was better
than doing time. Attica ain't safe for ex-cops, even dirty ones. He
was a private investigator now and did a lot of work for the families.
He was good and made 3 times more than he'd ever made in vice. I told
him what I wanted and gave him 5 bills up front.

I called my hair dresser. Fucking Mondays. I sent Sal out to Coney to
look at some guns that had gotten lost from NYPD's weapon destruction
program. Over 300 pieces, of all shapes and sizes that had been found,
confiscated, or evidenced. We wouldn't use any, but some people in
Cleveland were looking. It would be an easy buck.

I put Lucky on collections with Charlie's guy. I trusted Charlie, but
his boy was new and I wanted to avoid trouble before it happened. New
guys are new for years, and losing so much as 20 bucks was enough to
get clipped. If your short, you're skimming, don't matter if you stole
it, if you lost it, if your fucking dog ate it...if money was missing,
you skimmed it. And that meant you'd been skimming all along and never
got caught. Charlie liked his boy, it was his nephew, and I didn't
need the trouble.

I kept Jimmy close. Not just to keep an eye on him, but because I was
going to see Bert, the Wise Man for the Don. Jimmy's father had been
Bert's cousin, so that made them blood. It wasn't much, but it would
remind the old man that we were all family here, and I was bringing
business, not bullshit.

We went to Mazzoli's for lunch, to see Bert and find out what the Don
wanted to do. Originally, I was supposed find out what happened to
Yancy and make it right. Yancy wasn't a made guy, but he was one of
Vic's boys. Vic the Prick was a Capo and ran Queens. We didn't like
each other. He especially didn't like me being the one to find out why
Yancy had lost 20kilos of coke along with his head. He was Vic's boy,
Vic should be finding out. But Vic wanted to be Don someday, maybe
sooner than someday, and 20kilos of blow buys a lot of friends. I'd
found the cola - Frankie Fingers had it. He'd gotten it via a whore
named Simone, from Carmine Capina, who worked for Donate Pattazi, who
was Capo of the Bronx. I worked Manhatten, so you see how messy all
this was?

I really wanted to clip Carmine and that would be that. But him being
a made guy was like wearing a bulletproof vest. I needed permission to
do it, and that had to come from either the Don, or Bert, or Pattazi.
The biggest worry though, for the Don, was who gave Carmine the go
ahead to hit Yancy? It was Pattazi's coke, which means it was the
Don's coke. I figured it would have been some Cubans or Columbians,
maybe even some crazy Crips from Brooklyn, who did it. But this was a
family thing. And those are always bad.

I wore a good dress, conservative and black, cut just above the knees.
I got my power with a blood red silk blouse to match my 2" spikes. I
had my face made up just right, a little shadow, a little lipstick and
nothing else. I had my long auburn hair pulled back, in a 75-dollar
French braid. I wore real silk stockings and pearls around my neck.
Bert appreciated a good-looking woman as much as the next man, but I
needed his respect, not lust. He wasn't going to entertain me like a
whore, so I didn't dress like a whore. I was his troubleshooter; I
needed to look like the Princess of Darkness.

I put Jimmy in some black Armani, it looked good and I love watching
men dress and undress. Something about it...I wished I could have fucked
him, but there wasn't time. I had my little .380 in a thigh holster,
invisible beneath my skirt and tucked between my legs. It was a small
gun, but reliable with a good punch. Jimmy wasn't carrying, he left
his .38 in the glove compartment.

We were in a private dining room, one of several at Mazzoli's. It was
nice, an Italian Gentleman's Club in Midtown Manhatten. As far as I
knew I was the only female member, a fact that was not publicized and
was a dubious honor. I was restricted from the Argentia Lounge, for
example, because that was where the entertainment was. Never mind the
fact that the girls working in there kicked 20% of their commissions
directly to me.

Bartelmo Capris, or just Bert as he liked to be called, was sitting
with Vic the Prick and Danny Pats, at a large table already crowded
with plates, glasses, and all the accoutrements of an expensive lunch.
A couple buttons stood around behind them, minding their manners. I
walked in, rather hoping I'd have been able to see Bert alone, but
hiding that rather well I thought. I greeted Bert first, as all three
men rose, Vic and Danny rather less than formally.

Bert was an old man, almost 70, but still in good health. Tall, erect
and handsome, quite the ladies man in his day, and not so bad these
days either. I smiled and said hello as he embraced me, kissing my
cheeks and grabbing a feel of my ass. I doubted he did that with any
of his other Capos. I shook hands with Vic and Danny, exchanging
hellos. Jimmy kissed Bert's hand and they talked about his family
briefly, just enough to show that Bert still knew their names. Then
Jimmy moved to stand with the other men, against the wall.

I let a waiter pour some champagne for me, took a small sip as I
offered a toast to the Don's good health, and then put the glass down.
That would be all the alcohol I'd be drinking.

"Tell me about this Yancy business." Bert said, without any preamble.
His time was valuable, lunch or not.

"Yancy was bringing 20kilos of coke from our friends in Miami, last
Tuesday. He was supposed to give it to Danny's boy, Carlo that night.
Carlo never got it. We all know that. Yancy turned up in Breckinridge
with his head and hands gone, I guess to hide who he was. It was an
amateur job; police ID'd him from a tattoo on his abdomen. Thursday, I
got a call from a dealer in Queens, Vic's turf, who told me Frankie
Fingers had come around with 20kilos of pure powder. What a
coincidence."

I paused and took a drink of water. Vic wasn't liking some dealer from
his neighborhood calling me in Manhatten. I'd hear about that later, I
knew.

"I found Frankie, and the coke, and took him for a ride. He got it
from a locker at Grand Central. The key came from a whore in the
Bronx, Danny's turf. I got her through her pimp, a guy named Louis who
gave up her boyfriend, a dealer in Atlantic City named Bucky. They
won't say anything anymore. The whore, Simone, gave up..." I paused for
dramatic effect. "...Carmine Capina. That's where she got the key and
all she knew was to give it to Frankie." I looked at Danny. "Carmine
is your boy."

"I don't believe you." Danny sat back looking at me, his arms folded
across his chest. He was young, mid-thirties and had come up quick.
"Carmine's a good boy, a good earner."

"I'm just telling you what I heard." I shrugged.

I motioned to Jimmy and he lit a cigarette for me. It wouldn't make
Bert happy, but I really needed it. "Carmine's got bills." I looked at
Vic. "He's into you for 6 bills a week."

"What?" Danny looked at Vic and the older man shrugged.

"He picks names, not horses, what can I say?" Vic gave me a look and I
smiled. He was wondering how I'd found that little tidbit out.

"He's also into our friends in Atlantic City for another 6 grand, the
note's a gift, but only for another month. Then you're looking at 9
bills a week on that." I looked at Bert. "Mr. Sciani wrote that note.
He asked me to convey his respects to the Don, but he hoped you'd
understand his concern."

I took another sip of water. "If you'd like Danny, I can deal the note
to you for the original Six. Mr. Sciani made it clear to me that he'd
be happy to do that, he's in the gaming business, not the collecting
business."

"Made it clear...to...you?" Vic was staring at me. "Who the fuck do you
think you are?"

"Vic..." Bert held up his hand. "How much did this Carmine send up last
week?"

Danny thought about it. "About 12 bills. He's got some girls, a couple
dealers. His crew works good." He looked around the table. "I'll talk
to him, find out what's going on."

"That's my boy got hit, I'll do the talking." Vic leaned on the table.
"Something ain't right with this whole deal."

Bert nodded. "Rachael, you talk to him." The other two men started to
protest but Bert held up his hand. "Just talk."

"Bert, you don't believe this..." Danny stared at me. I'd dropped a lot
of bad news on his lap.

"Danny, I believe its time to eat...But I think...I'd rather have lunch
alone, you two are giving me indigestion." He looked at Vic and Danny
and we all started to get up. "Rachael, why don't you stay? I could
use some pleasant...company.

Vic didn't look at me as he got his man and left. Danny stared at me a
long time before he gave Bert a hug and left with his boy. Bert's two
men, standing with Jimmy, relaxed noticeably and so did I, deciding I
could have another sip of champagne.

"They're going to think we're plotting, Bert." I shook my head with a
wry smile.

"They're going to think we're fucking too, so why don't we make them
half right?" The old man pushed his chair back from the table and
patted his knee like he was calling a dog.

I stood up, thrusting my hips out a little and drinking my champagne.
"Okay, so what shall we plot about?"

Bert laughed and his lively gray eyes twinkled. "I am happy to see you
Rache, even if you're full of bad news."

I put my right foot up on the chair I'd been sitting in and pulled my
skirt up, above the garter of my stocking. "It's only bad news if it's
true." I smiled and removed my small holster, setting my gun down on
the table. "And if it's true, then I get to pay a visit Queens,
right?"

I walked over, letting Bert's wrinkled but still strong hands touch
me, unbuttoning my dress. "You're sure it's Vic then?" He undressed me
slowly, carefully and let each piece of clothing fall with a whisper
to the carpet.

"Not a hundred percent," I admitted. "But I'm sure it's not Danny."

Bert pulled my panties down, leaving my stockings in place.
"Beautiful." He whispered. "How do you know it isn't Danny?" He
slipped two bony fingers across my slit, already growing damp.

"Because I don't want to kill him."

Bert laughed again. "You bloodthirsty bitch!" He pushed me down. "Suck
an old man's cock back to life so I can fuck you properly."

I laughed too. "Bring me an old man then."

I sank to my knees happily for the Don's Consigliore, his most trusted
advisor and oldest friend, if anyone really had friends in our
business. He might have been pushing 70, but Bert's cock didn't know
it. The big dick sprang immediately to life as I wrapped my delicate
fingers around it, feeling the warmth beneath his smooth skin. It was
a little wrinkled, sure, and nested in a thick patch of silver pubic
hair, but it looked delicious.

I opened my mouth wide and took the pinkish head into my mouth. I
always gave Bert the best blowjobs I knew how and I played with it
gently, teasing and tickling it with my tongue. I kept my mouth open
too, knowing how much the old man liked to see his virility. I kissed
the sides, licking and sucking sweetly all the way down to his heavy
balls, bathing them with my mouth and then eagerly returning to suck
the head once more.

Bert put a hand on the back of my head, urging me on as I bobbed my
head up and down on his hard penis. "Do you know how I keep that prick
so hard, Rachael?" He asked. I knew the answer, he always asked me,
but maybe he forgot.

"Mmmmpph-uummph." I said, taking him as deep as I could, so his pubes
tickled my nose.

"Virgins!" He laughed and so did the three guys watching us. "Yep
virgin blood, anoint that prick every week and it just stays hard as
rock."

"Mmmmpph!" I agreed. Swallowing spit and precum as it flooded my
mouth. I was sucking harder now and Bert was really enjoying it.

"Hard to find virgins these days though. Women that is. Kids..." He made
a sound of disgust. "About 34, I've found, is the perfect age for a
virgin Rachael."

Bert was talking to me like we were just sitting around, shooting the
breeze. I worked my mouth harder, trying to make it the best blowjob
he'd ever had. That was probably impossible though, I mean the guy was
getting head before my Grandfather was out of diapers. I jerked his
cock with my hand while I just sucked the head, using every trick my
tongue new to get him to moan, just once.

"I remember when you were a virgin, Rachael. All sweet and innocent.
Popped you right after you popped..." Bert searched his memory. "Hey
Ritchie, who was the jack off Rache popped the night I took her
cherry?"

One of his boys, I didn't see which, answered. "It was that Irish
prick, Junior Riley, Boss."

I could have told him that, but my mouth was full.

"Oh yeah, Riley. What a vicious little bastard. You did him with that
little girly gun, didn't ya Rachael?" He didn't wait for an answer but
pulled my head down so I could deep throat him again. "And there you
were, fresh out of charm school, with your leather pants and those big
gold earrings you used to wear. With Riley's brains all over your
face! Goddamn what a mess! You're somethin' Rachael. Like God broke
the mold."

"Mmmpphh...ummmph!" I agreed and pushed my tongue out under his balls
while I sucked.

"Everybody thought you were one of those lesbians. But when you spread
those creamy thighs and gave me that little smile." He patted me on
the head. "I knew you were just savin' it up for me."

"Mmmpphhhh...ummph!" I tried to nod, because that was about the truth of
it. Everybody knew Bert liked virgins, but he wouldn't touch a girl
until she was 18 and you had to admire that. Bert might have been
helping to run a criminal empire built on the backs of little girls as
young as 12 or 13, but he'd never touch one himself. I'd had a hard
time keeping my virginity until I was 18, but it had been worth it!

"Rachael, my little troubleshooter, lie down on that table there and
let me crack that peanut of yours." He laughed and I pulled my mouth
away with one last hard suck. That was what Bert had said the first
time he'd seen me.

"How many men you whacked, Ritchie?" he said, watching me move
seductively, smiling and licking my lips.

"Six Boss."

"How about you Lenny?" He asked his other boy.

"Nine men, Boss"

"Jimmy?" Bert walked over. Gazing at me widespread legs and rubbing
his wrinkled old hands along my calves.

"Men? Seven Mr. Capris."

Bert put the head of his dick on top of my mound, rubbing it back and
forth over my flushed skin while I grinned. I took it in my hand,
feeling it throbbing nicely and rubbed it lower, across my slit where
it belonged.

"How about you, Rachael?" He paused. "That's not fair...How many women
have you killed?" He thrust his cock inside me slowly.

"Oh!" I gave a little grunt as he stretched me a little.
"Th-Thirteen....Mmmmm....That feels good!" I hooked my legs around him and
sighed as he started stroking me.

"They all deserve it, Rachael?" He rubbed my thighs.

"Well, you know what...uh! They say..." I grinned up at him. "Deserves got
nothing to do with it."

I stared up at the old man as he fucked me, enjoying it almost as much
as I enjoyed the fact that this was something he couldn't do with the
boys. Being the only made female in the Family definitely had some
unique advantages. I started moaning as Bert started fucking me
harder, it was just unbelievable the patience and power of that old
man. He wasn't even breaking a sweat and he had me on the edge of a
screaming good orgasm. Whatever his prick was doing in there, it was
good.

"Maybe you should take it easy on her, Boss." One of his boys said. "I
heard she was getting married."

"Is that right?" Bert looked down at me shaking his head. "You just
don't seem..." He slammed his cock in me hard and rotated his hips so I
finally did cum, shuddering violently and biting my lip with a
whimper. "...like the marrying kind."

I gasped for air, managing to nod and tell him it was true. "Oh
yessss...."

"Well then, that's good news. Might even settle you down a little." He
chuckled. "You don't mind if I cum inside you, do you Rachael? I know
married women can be a little...sensitive about things like that."

I didn't say anything, I was too busy cumming again. "Ohhhhh...God!" was
about the best I could manage.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Old Bert fucked me hard and fast. I
hoped he didn't have a heart attack, cause I'd probably get clipped if
he did. But I'd have such a rep as the one who whacked Bert Capris,
that it would almost be worth a bullet.

I came 3 or 4 times really good before Bert finally gave up his load,
shooting his sperm deep inside me. "There's a little wedding gift for
ya, Rachael." He jammed himself inside me hard. "And a little
something extra for the hubby!" He laughed and withdrew, breathing
hard. "You bring him around some time, Ritchie will set it up, I'd
like to meet him."

I was soaked with sweat and my pussy felt wonderfully sore and full of
Bert's cum. I nodded and smiled. "I'm sure he'd like meeting you too,
Bert." I breathed.

"Hey, I just thought of something." Bert zipped up his pants. "You're
a made girl, we need to give you a bachelor party...er, bachelorette
party, I should say. Ritchie, set that up too. Something special for
my girl."

"Sure thing Boss." Our 3 button men laughed, talking amongst
themselves.

"You watch Vic, Rache." He looked at me as I sat up weakly. "He didn't
just fall of the boat."

"I already got him." I nodded. "He's gonna move, Bert."

"When?"

"Soon as I find Carmine."

"If you're wrong, it's gonna be your ass."

"When's the last time I was wrong?" I stared at him. "Give the Don my
respects."

Bert looked at me and nodded, leaving with his two boys while I sat
there naked on the table. "Got a smoke, Jimmy?"

He lit it for me and passed it over. "What do you think, Rache?"

"I think Bert's getting old, Jimmy. He's starting to see what he wants
to see." I looked at Jimmy and he nodded. If Bert had been on top of
it Carmine and Vic would already be dead, it almost made me wonder if
the old man didn't have something playing.

"Fuck." I looked down between my legs.

"Whatsa matter, Rache?"

"We gotta stop and get some pads on the way back." All that pounding
had started my period.

"Uh, sure Boss." Jimmy was stifling a little chuckle and I just
sighed.

We went back to the club and I spent two hours doing the books. It was
the only part of the job I didn't like, but what was I gonna do? I had
Lucky looking for Carmine in the Bronx, which was Carmine's
neighborhood, and I had Sal checking Queens, since that was Vic's
turf. I sent Jimmy over to see Danny Pats, figuring we'd need to get a
whole lot more friendly if it turned out his boy Carmine was working
for Vic. And if all that wasn't headache enough, I had to lose my car.

"Rache, phone." Georgie called from the kitchen and I sighed, standing
up and stretching.

"Yeah?" I said.

"You wanted word on the rabbit, the tags just popped." It was a cop
who worked autos in robbery.

"Thanks, get yourself some donuts tomorrow, ya sound skinny." I'd just
promised the guy some cash for the tip.

"Georgie." I walked over to my purse and fished out my keys, tossing
them to the kid. "Take my VW and park it in front of the precinct
there on 49th. Leave it running." I thought for a minute. "And get my
Evanescence CD out of the player."

"You sure, Rache?" He looked at me. "You love that car."

I smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure." I would have chopped it, but a VW don't go
for shit in New York, and anyways I figured the owner deserved a
break. It was a great car. "Then stop by Huey's and tell Lance I'm
looking for a ride. Something legit."

I sat back down looking at numbers and punching my calculator.

"Rache, phone." Tony the Barber called, holding it up. "It's Lucky."

I frowned. "Yeah...yeah." I got up, deciding I'd never get through the
books. "Talk to me." I said.

"I got a line on our fish, down at Bozio's in the Bronx. He's sweatin
like crazy." Lucky laughed.

"I bet. Who'd ya get it from?"

"His wife, you believe that? I had Cali give her a ring, just
smoochin, and badabing, she starts bitchin about some ho makin time
with her sweet Carmine."

"Okay, get down to Bozio's and sit on him, I'm on my way."

Cali, short for Calista, was Lucky's wife. All those women knew each
other and they all hated me, which didn't bother me a whole lot, I
didn't have much use for them. But once in awhile...

"Tony, yo...!" I looked around and the big guy finally popped out of the
basement with a case of beer in his arms. "Hey Tony, get Jimmy on the
phone, tell him I'm comin over for a sit down with Danny Pats an about
an hour." I looked around. "Is Georgie back yet?"

"No, he ain't, what you need?" He was picking up the phone.

"I need a ride."

"Yo, Tommy!" He yelled and one of his boys popped out of the kitchen.
Tony just jerked his thumb at me.

The kid was young, maybe 24, still older than I was and I'd heard good
things about him. "You're drivin." I told him and I grabbed my purse
and a jacket, following him out to the parking lot. "You carrying?"

"Yeah." He smiled like he was just begging for me to tell him to whack
somebody.

"Just keep it in your pants, got it?"

"Sure, yeah." He nodded and started getting in an old blue Chevy Nova,
all jacked up in the rear with slicks and a big air scoop in the
front.

I got in the passenger side and it was snug. I glanced at Tommy and he
was a looker, with olive skin and big doe eyes, real sexy. "You drive
a car like this you gotta have the prick to go with it." I smiled at
him.

"Balls too." He grinned back at me and dropped the hammer so we left
rubber for 30 yards down the street.

After that little show he settled down and I gave him directions to
get to Bozio's, a little restaurant just off the Battery. "Okay,
look..." I said after he turned off the engine and we were looking at
the place through the car windows. "...you gotta be cool, right? You
don't say a fuckin word, you got me?"

"Sure." He nodded, but I'd never worked with the guy. I sighed and
stepped out of the car, walking across the street and into the softly
lit interior. It was dressed like a mom and pop place, simple and
clean. Lucky was sitting in a booth and he got up when he saw me.

"Hey Rache." He glanced at Tommy and gave the kid a nod.

"Where is he?" I asked, looking around. There were a few people
eating, local civilians, I didn't see anyone I recognized. We grabbed
a table and pretended to look at the little menus stuffed between the
parmesan cheese and the napkin holder.

"Bozio has a spare room down in the basement, Carmine set up some
bimbo named Charlene with it about a month ago. He came in two days
ago and hasn't left."

"He got a phone down there?"

"I dunno, why?"

"Seems like a bad spot to hole up, don't it?" I didn't like it.

"Maybe he ain't hidin." Tommy was just dying to say something. "Maybe
he's just knockin' off some of that tail, you know?"

"Nobody's knockin off tail for two fuckin days either." Lucky looked
at the kid who just shrugged.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Sure enough, when we got Bozio
to open the door it was ripe. Carmine and his girl were dead. Somebody
had made a real mess on the little bed in there, shooting them both in
the head. Bozio was an old guy and he looked like he was gonna have a
heart attack on the spot, lucky for him too, or I might have figured
he was in on it. But he didn't know. I called Jimmy and gave him the
bad news. I didn't need that sit down after all.

By Thursday things had settled down and my period was almost over. I'd
talked to Bert and he wasn't happy having no answers, but whoever had
whacked Carmine had done it clean. I had my money on Vic, but it could
have been Danny too. Whichever one had tried to heist the cola was
just covering his tracks. The one good thing was that whoever it was
would try again. Wise guys were dumb that way.

I'd found a place for Paul and I through a friend in the real estate
business. A real nice little house on Long Island. Five bedrooms, 3
baths, a 3 car garage, dining room, kitchen, den, etc. etc. It was
appraised at 865, on the market for 750 and I picked it up at 485,
getting a loan from the Longshoreman Union in Jersey City. That got
picked up in turn by UAW for 3.2pts and dropped an hour later on Local
432 of the NYC Sanitation Services. They wrote it off as collection
due, I love their sense of humor, and I paid them 250 in some T-notes
I'd happened to have found, the rest was a loss and fell into a tax
shelter so the union would collect on the appraised from the Fed to
the tune of 615 in tax credit come April. After Paul and I were
married we'd take out a mortgage through Jersey First for 500 grand
and wash some money for the Don at 15pts. That would net us 75 grand
every 3 months since we'd be taking out 90 day notes. The house itself
was owned by the Frontier Club, which was in turn owned by a trust
established with the Azteca Banco in the Cayman Islands. Paul and I
would pay $1800.00 month rent, plus utilities. Of course the rent went
straight to the Capo of Manhatten, which was me. So all we were really
doing was making a paper trail. The IRS loves paper.

Of course on Thursday afternoon, meeting Paul at the airport, I didn't
explain all that stuff to him. I just kissed him really hard because
I'd missed him so much.

"I've missed you so much!" I smiled and hugged his arm, pulling him
out to where I was illegally parked.

"Hi, yeah, I missed you too." He was a little bewildered though. "Why
did I need to fly down? I could have just driven." He clearly wasn't
happy that some guy named Mario was going to be driving his precious
BMW down from Syracuse the next day. He'd be following the Mayflower
truck loaded with Paul's stuff.

"Because, silly! I want to show you the house we bought!"

"We bought a house?" He looked at me but I was jumping in the driver's
seat of my new car. Paul bent down and looked at me through the
passenger window. "Who's car is this?"

"Mine! Hurry up and get in!" I laughed at him as he did as he was
told. "Don't you like it?"

"Uh, yeah it's great. It's..."

"It's a Lincoln Sports Coup, pretty hot huh? Check this out!" I hit
some buttons and the hydraulics engaged, lifting the car about 3 feet
off the axles. "I like it better down though." And I flipped them
again and the car dropped until the bumpers were almost scraping
pavement.

"What happened to the Volkswagen?"

"Oh, that was just a loaner. This I got from some guys in Spanish
Harlem, they owed me a little something and, well, the car was
interest. I just love it."

"Yeah, it's uh...something." It was a hot car, midnight blue with a moon
roof and power everything. A super stereo with huge woofers in the
trunk. A gigantic engine, hydraulics, even the cigarette lighter
worked. And best of all, it wasn't hot. I had the registration in my
old landlady's name. She didn't mind stuff like that, she had
Alzheimer's.

"Hey, we're getting married on Saturday, so the boys wanna take you
out tonight." I smiled.

"The...boys?"

"Yeah, Lucky, Jimmy, Sal, some of the others. You remember, you met
them last week in Jersey. They really like you, I think."

"You mean the boys you, uh, slept with." He looked down a little
petulantly.

I laughed. "We definitely weren't sleeping, dear." I reached over and
rubbed high inside Paul's thigh. "But yeah, the guys who fucked me."

"I wish, um...I wish you wouldn't say that, Rachael." He squirmed a
little and I grabbed his penis feeling it just a little hard already.

"Oh?" I glanced over and grinned. "Somebody doesn't seem to mind if
say I was seriously fucked by my crew." He was throbbing. "I bet you'd
like to watch sometime, wouldn't you Paul?" I teased.

"Rachael! No...No, that's not why, uh...no." He protested but his penis
was tenting his Dockers something fierce.

"Oh. Well, that's too bad, because the boys are giving me a
bachelorette party tomorrow night and, well, I know it's not really
traditional, but if you wanted to come along..." I shrugged.

"A bachelorette...party?" He looked at me. "With the...boys?"

"Well who else is going to do it? I don't have any female friends!" I
giggled. "Don't you think it's sweet of them?"

"Um, well..."

"Plus there's some people I want you to meet, some people I work for
who would like to meet you, get a feel for you. Marriage is a big deal
in the family."

"I see, well, oh...okay then..." Paul was such a pussy, it made me very
happy that I'd judged him correctly when we'd first met. But I'm good
at that, sensing the way people are, what they're thinking, what
they'll do next. It was a big advantage in our thing.

"So, how was your little trip? Did you get everything straightened
out?" I asked sweetly. I'd had daily updates, of course, but Paul
didn't know that.

"Uh, yeah, mostly. I got everything packed and I, gave notice at work,
but there's so much, Rachael, I mean I just can't uh, quit in the
middle of the semester, I..."

"So you didn't resign?" I already knew he hadn't.

"Um, no." He looked at me. "I need to be back on Monday, but it's only
for 3 more weeks, okay?" I didn't say anything. "Please?" I just
stared at the road. "Rachael?"

"Do you love me, Paul?" I finally asked.

"Yes, I do. More than anything."

"Anything?" I stared at him for a second.

"Yes."

"Even more than your job? Your students? Your career?" I was smiling
inside but I kept my face hard.

"That's...that's not fair, I mean..."

"Yes or no?" I asked.

"Yes." He sighed.

"So if I asked you to quit, to call them up and tell them you weren't
coming back, ever." I glanced at him. "You'd do that for me?"

"I..." He was frowning. "Yes."

"Okay, then you can finish the semester." I rubbed his leg again. "I
love you too Paul."

"Thank you, Rachael." He breathed and he smiled and he relaxed
visibly, sinking back into the buttery leather seat.

"Now, tell me, were you a good boy while you were up there?" I
squeezed his penis but it wasn't hard anymore.

"Uh, what?" Paul blinked hard.

"Did you go out? Have a little fun with the guys?" I smiled and rubbed
him gently.

"I, um..." He didn't know what to say. I don't think he ever lied to
anyone in his life, certainly not to me.

"It's okay, come on. What did you do, get drunk and pass out?" I
laughed.

"I, um...yeah, I guess, er I...yeah." He was so bad at it.

"You know," I was talking in a soft matter of fact voice. "If I ever
thought you were cheating on me, I'd cut off your balls." I grabbed
them through his trousers, squeezing them. "Especially after our
little talk last week."

Paul groaned and his thighs pressed together, but I didn't let go.

"Yep, I'd cut them off and hang them from my mirror, Paul. So I'd
always know right where they were. So I'd never have to worry if my
husband was fucking around on me." I rolled them in my fist as I
drove.

"I'm...ohhhh...." Paul was grabbing at my wrist. "P-Please! Rachael!"

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything, Paul?" I smiled at
him. "Oh look! I know that man. Let's say hi." I let go of Paul's nuts
and pulled up next to a brown Plymouth, sitting right where it was
supposed to be in an empty lot next to a 7-11, even though I was
running about 10 minutes late.

I pulled up next to it, facing the opposite direction so my side was
next to the driver of the other car. I rolled down my window and saw
Jerry, my ex-vice cop sitting there. He handed me a large brown
envelope and I handed it to Paul as I pulled away, never saying a
word.

"What's this?" Paul asked me, turning the envelope over in his hands.
The sun was setting, but there was still plenty of light, so I just
smiled.

"I'm not sure, open it and take a look." I kept my eyes on the road,
I'd already seen the pictures anyway. Jerry had brought the negatives
and the originals by that morning, my crew had been impressed.

Paul, of course, was taken completely by surprise. I'd told Charlie
what I'd wanted and he hadn't let me down. He'd fixed my fianc� up
with a pair of blondes, one quite beautiful in a fashion model sort of
way, the other almost unbearably cute. I'd been impressed, seriously
doubting there was any talent in Syracuse, but you just never knew. I
thought about opening an escort service up there.

"What have you got there, honey?" I was careful to keep my eyes
straight ahead, although I really wanted to see what I was sure would
be panic on my husband-to-be's handsome face.

"Oh my god." He whispered, and I doubted Paul was even aware he'd said
it. I heard the rustle of photographs, large bright color 8x10
glossies being hurriedly shoved back into the envelope. "It's...uh,
it's...some...uh pictures."

"Oh really?" I asked innocently.

"Rachael, I...I..." He was quiet for a moment, staring at the envelope in
his lap. "You set me up." His voice suddenly filled with the
realization. "You...you know already!"

"I especially like the one with you on your back, one riding you like
a cowgirl and the other one sitting on your face. That's real class,
Paul, how did she taste?"

"It wasn't my fault, Rachael, you know that!" His voice was accusing
and he really seemed to think he was the victim.

"Oh?" I shrugged. "I suppose it was my fault?" I looked at Paul,
shaking my head sadly.

"No...well, yes...maybe...I don't know." The poor dear was so confused. "You
arranged it, somehow, I know you did."

"I told Charlie to make sure you had a good time, Paul, that's all."

"But...why? Why would you do that and pay someone to...to take pictures?
Like you're blackmailing me or something."

"Because Paul." I sighed. "This is the way it is, everyday. Someone
will always be looking for a way to take me down. To take us down." I
corrected myself, looking at Paul deliberately in the fading light.
"If you ever try to hide something from me, someone else will try and
use it against us. If you ever do anything that would hurt me, like
fucking around, someone will know and try to use it."

Paul didn't say anything for awhile and I continued. "This is just a
lesson, okay? I wanted you to have fun, to get laid, okay? It's
alright, because I wanted to see how you'd handle it. I have to be
able to trust you, more than anyone else in the world. If you have any
secrets, we're in trouble. Do you understand?"

"Not really, Rachael." He sighed. "What about you? What about your
secrets?"

"You don't have to know." I gave him a sad little smile.

"But that's not...fair."

"I know, honey." I patted his thigh. "You can keep your balls. This
time." I giggled and pulled onto the Long Island Expressway, quickly
accelerating my new car with a satisfying deep throated growl.

Our house was in a nice neighborhood, with lots of room between us and
the neighbors. There were automatic gates at the driveway and I hit a
little button attached to the visor so they opened slowly, pushing it
again to make them close behind me. I thought that was pretty neat. I
could see a few cars in front of the house already, a few vans too,
and even a truck.

I was getting a security system installed, the movers were finishing
up, and the phone company was putting in an additional phone line. My
crew was there, and had been for most of the day, making sure nothing
got lost.

"Hey, Rache!" Lucky grinned when he saw me. "And the lucky stiff!" He
came over shaking Paul's hand. "Nice to see you again!'

"Rache." Sal was coming over too. "Howsabouda we show da hubby
Marci's?"

"Marci's? No, we're goin to Slim's, ain't we?" Lucky frowned.

Jimmy appeared around the corner. "Hi Rache, hey, uh, you need to call
Bert about the, uh, thing."

"They got the phones hooked up?" I looked around, we all had
celphones, but rarely used them. "Go find out Jimmy." The place was a
mess, boxes and packing all over, people walking around. I hated
moving.

"Your office is over there, we got that fixed up nice. First thing."
Jimmy winked and went off to see how the phone guy was doing.

"It's uh, nice to see you guys again." Paul was saying. Shaking hands
with Lucky and Sal, doubtlessly remembering that these two guys had
been fucking me while he himself hadn't.

"You ready to go have some fun?" Lucky was grinning.

"Ya, I seen da pics from upstate, Paulie, youse look good in blonde!"
Sal laughed and Lucky glanced at me. I just shook my head and laughed
too.

"As long as he doesn't make a habit of it." I kissed Paul's blushing
cheek.

"You, uh, saw the pictures?" he asked.

"Oh fuckin-A we saw em, spread em all out an...uh..." Sal looked at me,
thinking about what he was about to say.

"We fucked on top of them, Paul. I made my crew fuck me while I looked
through them." I laughed and Lucky and Sal grinned while Paul turned 6
shades of red.

Jimmy called me over and I went into the den that had been set up as
my little office, he held up a phone. "It's clean." He told me. Our
security guy had just checked it, which was no surprise because not
even the feds could get a tap warrant before a phone was even
connected.

"Bert." I said. "What can I do for you?"

"Rache. I need you, right now at Mixie's."

"Casual or dress?"

"Dress. We gotta sit down with Vic." I frowned at that.

"Right, I need an hour." And I hung up the phone.

=-=-=-

end pt 2of3
Continued
rache696@yahoo.com

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