Strange Bedfellows: My Mafioso Boyfriend, Part 4

Strange Bedfellows: My Mafioso Boyfriend, Part 4

by Eliza Stout

Published by Eliza Stout

Copyright 2013 Eliza Stout. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected
under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint
or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission
from the author.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are
of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Strange Bedfellows: My Mafioso Boyfriend, Part 4

The first thing I had done upon waking up in the morning was feel around on my pillow,
patting it and noticing that it felt damp. It took me a few moments before I was fully
back in my senses and remembered that I had cried myself to sleep the night before.
So much so, it would seem, that the tears hadn’t even completely dried by morning.
My boyfriend Tony had been shot the night before, and I was an unfortunate witness
to the entire bloody scene. It was like something out of a mob movie; like something
out of a nightmare as well. I had known that what Tony did for a living was dangerous
– that went without saying – but never in my wildest dreams did I expect that something
like this would happen. It was simply devastating. The worst part of it all was that
for some reason his friends would not even let me see him at the hospital. They were
nice enough guys and they had always treated me with kindness and respect, but they
had rebuffed my every attempt at trying to get up to his hospital room with a cold
stoicism that made me wonder if I really knew them at all.

It was difficult getting on with my morning routine with all that had happened in
mind, but I set to it nonetheless. I made breakfast. I fed Tom and changed his litter.
I picked up my trash from the day before. The routine stuff was tough, but mechanical
enough that I could put myself on autopilot anyway. When I had run out of chores,
however, I tried to get on with a painting that I had left off in the middle of, only
to find that I couldn’t concentrate on it at all. As I was putting away my brushes
in disgust, my cell phone began to ring and vibrate from the night stand by my bed.
I slowly made my way across the room and answered it.

“Hello?” I said, my voice hauntingly weary.

“Tara, it’s Sal. Are you doing alright? I told you I would call and check on you.”

“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Alright. Good. I just left the hospital a few minutes ago. Tony’s good. He’s stable.
The doctors say he’ll be alright.”

“So I can see him?”

“Erm… no.”

“What do you mean no? You said he’s doing better. Why can’t I see him?”

“You just can’t. I already told you this. You can see him when he gets out.”

I hung up the phone and threw it across the room. That was bullshit. He had told me
that he loved me and I was starting to think that I felt the same way about him. I
was going to see him and no stupid mobster wanna-be lug was going to keep me from
doing that. I quickly got dressed and grabbed my purse and then set out immediately
towards the hospital.

It wasn’t hard to find him once I was there. I entered through a large waiting room
where there were a few bored looking people buried in their phones scattered about,
but none of Tony’s friends from the family. I was worried that one of them would spot
me coming in and try to stop like they had the night before, but it was clear that
fear was unfounded. I came up to the receptionist at the front desk and politely requested
the room number for a Mr. Anthony DiSorrento and she was more than happy to share
it with me. After that it was a quick stroll down a hallway on the left, three stories
up the elevator, another long hallway on my right, a sharp turn left, and there it
was. The door was cracked open slightly, so I figured that visitors must be allowed
at the moment. I pulled the heavy gray door open a bit wider and slipped in through
the opening only to be greeted with a confusing sight.

Tony was there in the center of the room, in the hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts
of machines and drips. His eyes were opened and he was propped up and looking well.
He looked well enough to show surprise on his face when he saw me come into the room,
anyway. In that instant I realized why Sal and Jackie had forbid me from seeing Tony
while he was in the hospital. Seated next to his hospital bed was a tired looking
woman, with long black hair. She looked to be a little older than me, probably closer
to Tony’s age, and there were two young children seated next to her, a boy and a girl.
This was Tony’s wife. These were his children. This was his family.

My jaw dropped. At first the woman was confused, but her expression quickly boiled
into one of anger.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she started yelling, smacking her hand violently against the hospital
bed which caused Tony to cringe in pain. “This must be one of your little hussies,
I see.” She stood up from her seat and began pacing the room, each time coming a bit
closer to me. I began backing out of the room.

“I… I didn’t know, “ I said, holding my hands up.

“You didn’t know. You didn’t know.” She looked back at Tony, waving her hands angrily.
“She didn’t know, huh?” Then she turned her attention back to me. “How did you like
the fancy dinners, honey? The jewelry? You must think I’m some kind of idiot. I know
how it works. He takes you out to the fancy restaurants and showers you with money
and in return you fuck him. You fuck him while I’m at home raising his kids. I know
the score. I know how these things work. But you… showing your little hussy face here.
You got some nerve, bitch.”

The more she talked the angrier she became, and the angrier she became the more animated
she became. I was terrified. I stumbled backwards out of the room, shut the door,
and immediately began walking purposefully back towards the elevator, trying to hold
back tears. I got instead and jammed down the button for the ground floor. When the
elevator finally came to a rest at the bottom and the doors slid open, I was met with
Sal’s imposing presence blocking the doorway. He just shook his head when he saw me.

“I knew you’d come here,” he said, thrusting his hand out and placing it over the
door slot so that they wouldn’t close on him. “You were a little bit quicker than
me, though, I see.”

“No shit,” I said, rubbing at my eyes with my sleeve.

I continued walking out the elevator, pushing past him as I went, and walked briskly
to the front doors of the hospital. He didn’t come after me. I guess he had failed
at his task at this point anyway, so there was no sense in it now. It wasn’t until
after I had stepped out into the light of day that I realized something was off. My
purse! I know I had grabbed it on the way out the door, but I didn’t remember having
it with me in the hospital. Did I lock it in the car? My keys were inside my purse.
Shit. I crossed my fingers and hurried across the parking to where my car was. I tried
the handle, but it was locked as I expected it to be. I put my face up close to the
tinted windows and peered inside, cupping my hands around my eyes to block out the
sunlight. There, sitting serenely on the passenger seat, was my purse. I leaned against
the car and hung my head back, closing my eyes and wondering what else could possibly
go wrong today.

Sal, I thought. I started back across the hospital parking lot and was lucky enough
to run into him halfway there, heading back to his own car.

I called out to him and he stopped and turned to see where my voice was coming from.

“You aren’t going back in there, are you?” he said. “You really are crazy.”

“No, no,” I said. “I locked my keys in my car. “Can you give me a ride back to my
apartment? I’ve got a spare key there.”

He sighed. “Alright. I don’t have anything better to do.” And with that we were off,
in his car and headed back to my apartment from the hospital for the second time in
twelve hours.

The ride was quiet once again. He didn’t say a word, and I was too embroiled in my
own thoughts to say anything. This seemed to be the common trajectory of my relationship
with Tony. Thinks seem to be going great, and then something happens that I probably
should have seen coming a mile away and I end up just hating myself over it. You know
what? Not this time. I didn’t deserve this. I certainly didn’t deserve to be sitting
here beating myself up over something that wasn’t my fault. Sure, I probably should
have seen it coming, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I was sitting here
being angry at myself when I should have been angry at Tony. This was just one incident
in a long string of them. I wanted to do something to hurt him. I wanted to do something
that would piss him off for a change.

I looked over at Sal, who was lost in his own world, driving with a bored content
look on his face. His unusually large hands gripped the steering wheel at both sides.
I glanced down from there. Through the thin material of his suit pants, I could make
out the imprint of his manhood resting against his leg. It was big. I mean… really
big, and he wasn’t even aroused. I snuck my hand quietly across the center console
as he was driving unaware, and slowly slid it across his thigh until I was gently
rubbing the soft mass of meat.

“Whoah, what are you doing?” he said, but he didn’t move to stop me.

“I want to see your big dick,” I said, squeezing and prodding at the thing.

“You know Tony’ll kill me.”

“I want to see your big dick,” I repeated. That was the last protest I had received
from him. His cock was already starting to swell up just from what little bit of stimulation
I had been giving it through his pants. I raked my fingernails across it lightly as
it continued to grow, and then undid his fly and plunged my hand into the warm depths
it led to. He didn’t take his eyes off of the road,  nor his hands off the steering
wheel. I felt around inside his pants for a second, feeling his balls and then found
the quickly hardening cock. I wrapped my delicate fingers around it and tugged it
forward, causing it to pop out of his now open fly. It stuck straight up into the
air, bobbing slightly with the blood flow. It was longest dick I had ever seen, must
have been at least seven or eight inches, and it was incredibly thick to boot. I had
never been a subscriber to the hand size to penis size correlation philosophy, but
it was hard to argue with the facts when they were staring you in the face. I began
to stroke him, squeezing my palm around his shaft at the base, and bring my hand all
the way up to the top making sure to let each of my fingers glide against the head
one after the other in a kind of flourish before going back down to the base of his
shaft and repeating.

Sal still hadn’t taken his eyes off the road, but I noticed that he had wriggled and
scooted around in his seat in an attempt to readjust himself, and he was starting
to give off subtle, primal cues to my small hand as it pumped away at his solid cock.
He was starting to slightly thrust upward with each of my down strokes, as if he were
fucking my hand. He was starting to breathe heavy, but he was being a trooper, keeping
the majority of his senses focused on his driving. I used my free hand to pry his
right hand from the steering wheel and stretch it over to my side of the car, and
I stuffed it down the front of my shirt. He was able to drive just fine with the one
hand, go figure, and as I continued to stroke his stiffened member he began to grope
around inside of my shirt. He slipped his thick calloused hands underneath my bra
and began to fondle my breast. I didn’t think it was possible, but his cock grew a
little more, got even harder. I was incredibly turned on at this point. I could feel
the wetness leaking through my panties, but I just wanted to make him cum. I brought
my hand up his shaft and began to focus at the tip of his dick, swirling my soft fingers
around his bulbous cock head. This caused him to jump slightly.

He continued to squeeze and grope at my breast, pulling it out of its bra. I leaned
over, however, and kissed him lightly on the tip of his dick. He was still doing that
primal subconscious thrusting of his hips up and down and when my lips pressed against
the tip of his dick, he began doing it even more. My tongue lashed out of my mouth,
skimming around his dick head, licking at it playfully as I continued to jack him
off with my hand. I started slow, little flicks of the tongue here and there at the
tip, and then I progressed into a long slow licking of his dick from the base all
the way up again. He had one hand on the wheel still, thankfully, and the other was
now crawling down my backside, fingering its way down the back of my panties and grasping
as my ass as best as he could reach it from the driver’s seat.

I took his entire cock in my mouth now and starting sucking at it. He was subtly thrusting
up into my mouth, and his cock was so big that I was honestly having a tough time
keeping control of my saliva. After a few minutes of sucking away it him there was
drool sliding all down the shaft of his dick. This was useful, however, because when
he began to moan louder and louder and started thrusting upwards more forcefully like
he was about to cum, I pulled my lips off of his dick and began to easily pump at
his cock using all of that spit as a makeshift lubricant. I slid my fist up and down
his cock, squeezing it tightly, and he became to writhe in the driver’s seat. The
car drifted to the center lane a bit, I heard someone else on the road lay into their
car horn, he quickly jerked the car back into its lane, and then warm white cum began
to gush out of his dick like a geyser. It spilled out over my hand and oozed in between
my fingers as I continue to pump at him, flourishing my now sticky fingers over the
sensitive nerves in his dickhead, causing him to squirm and groan.