Mick Sinatra 3: His Lady, His Children, and Sal (18 page)

BOOK: Mick Sinatra 3: His Lady, His Children, and Sal
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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 against 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 the 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.”

Everybody went still.
 
Was he going to pull out a gun and kill Sal,
at which case Reno and Tommy would have to pull out their guns and kill
him?
 
Or was he going to make peace?
 
It was always hard to tell with Mick.
 
Maybe that was why it took him so long to get
out here.
 
Maybe he called for this
gathering to take out all of the Gabrinis.
 
Reno knew Mick, and therefore knew that wasn’t the case.
 
But Tommy didn’t know him like that, and
neither did Sal.
 
They weren’t too
sure.
 
They both were on guard, just in
case.

“I want to apologize to you, Sal,” Mick said.
 
“I was wrong.”

Everybody relaxed.
 
But the idea of Mick Sinatra apologizing was worth the cost of
admission, especially for his own children.
 
You could still hear a pin drop, as everybody remained still and silent.

“I was wrong to assume there could never be that
kind of choice to make,” Mick continued.
 
“I thought no man could ever choose a woman over their own mother.
 
It wasn’t right to me.
 
It went against everything I believed
in.
 
I saw my father kill my mother.
 
And I hated him for it.
 
Because I knew what his selfish act did to
our family.
 
We were already
dysfunctional, but he drove us over the cliff.
  
My big brother Charles survived the crash, but even he wasn’t
unscathed.
 
Even he has scars that can’t
be healed.
 
But my sister Jacqueline, or
Sprig as we called her, didn’t fare as well.
 
I made it out alive, but that’s not living.
 
And Sprig, well, Sprig didn’t make it out at
all.”

Sal and Tommy exchanged a glance.
 
Sprig had been their self-destructive
mother.
 
They knew exactly what Mick was
talking about.

 
“She had too
many demons,” Mick continued.
 
“Charles
did what he could for her.
 
I didn’t do a
damn thing.
 
She was a grown woman.
 
She had to make her own bed.
 
That was how I viewed matters like that.
 
Each man had to be for himself.”

He looked specifically at Sal.
 
Gemma placed her hand on Sal’s hand.
 
Mick was a charming man, a gorgeous man
physically, but there was an unyielding hardness to him that concerned her.

“It was my guilt that drove my passion against you,”
Mick said.
 
“She was gone before I had a
chance to make things right.
 
And it was
all because of you.”

Mick hesitated.
 
Roz wanted to get up and go to him, to support him, but she knew Mick
wouldn’t want that.
 
Times like these, when
he was owning up to his own mistakes, he preferred to stand alone.
 
He loved her because she gave him that
space.
 
Later, when they were alone, he
would lean on her.
 
But that kind of
vulnerability he would never display in public.

“You did what you had to do,” Mick finally said to
Sal.
 
“Sprig put you in that position,
not the other way around.
 
She made that
bed, and she had to lie in it.
 
You did
what you had to do.
 
I didn’t understand
that until recently, when I thought about my wife, and my children.
 
I would do the same thing for them.
 
I get it.”

Teddy, Gloria, and Joey stared unblinkingly at their
father.
 
They knew he was trying to
change.
 
They knew he was trying to be
the father to them he never was.
 
It was
going to be hard for him.
 
Because he
practiced what he
preached.
 
He made his bed hard too.
 
Adrian alone showed him just how hard.

   
“I
understood what you did,” Mick continued talking to Sal, “in ways I never
thought I could ever understand.
 
Before
I met my wife, before I established a real relationship with my children, I
wouldn’t have understood it.”
 
Then Mick
reached his outstretched hand over the table.
 
“I find no fault in you,” he said.

Sal stood up and shook Mick’s hand.
 
“You’re a general asshole,” Sal said with a
half-cocked smile, “but I find no fault in you either.”

Everybody laughed and applauded.
 
For the men, it felt like a load lifted.
 
For the women, it felt like a cloud
removed.
 
Now there was nothing to
separate the families.
 
There was nothing
to get in the way of having each other’s back.
 
Like Roz and Mick earlier, they too were now one.

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