Why Does the Caged Bird Sing? (Corsair and Xana)

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Shuddering with desire, Marilyn threw her head back and moaned as Mercy cupped her breasts. Then she rolled on top of the other woman, gloved hands cupping her breasts and squeezing them gently as she explored the firm flesh with her lips. "You... taste so damn good," she gasped, rubbing herself on Mercy's thigh and grinding her own thigh against Mercy's soaking mound. Her mouth returned to Mercy's nipple, sucking and biting as she feasted hungrily on her. Then she slid backwards, gloved hands still cupping Mercy's breasts as she traced her tongue down Mercy's chest and stomach. She kissed the smooth skin, pausing to suck and bite as her thumbs circled and teased Mercy's nipples. "God, I can smell you," she gasped as she scraped her teeth over Mercy's nave;/ "Do... do you taste as good as you smell?"

She slid further backwards, shivering at the trail of damp Mercy's soaking panties left on her skin. Her gloved hands followed her, exploring and caressing as soft lips and hard teeth tasted her inner thigns. Fingers hooked in the waist of her underwear, pulling it firmly down over her hips and rear, and then over her thighs and down her calves as Marilyn drank in her expression. "Inside you?" she whispered, running her silk-covered hands up Mercy's bare legs. Her mouth hovered over Mercy's dripping mound, inhaling her musky arousal. "Like this?"

Her gloved hands pushed between the mattress and her body, cupping her firm rear and lifting her slightly. Marilyn's tongue whispered over wet flesh, dragging a groan from her as she collected her arousal on her tongue. "I'll bet you never had anything like this," she gloated, using her thumbs to open Mercy's lips to her gaze. Her tongue stroked deeper, exploring the delicate folds within before she gently kissed the erect nub of Mercy's clit. "But you have to tell me if it feels good, Mercy. I want you to enjoy this." With that her mouth closed over Mercy's open slit, tongue gently working deep into her.
 
Mercedes didn’t know what to expect when she took Marilyn to bed. How could she? Of course, sex with a woman had to be different from sex with a man. If women could even have sex, in that sense of the word. But Marilyn’s journey down her body was thrilling, uncovering her desire and positioning herself between Mercedes’ thighs.

Mercedes didn’t speak, just shook her head with eyes wide in arousal and shock. Didn’t speak, just moaned low and long as Marilyn’s tongue traced her trembling lips. No, Vinnie never did anything like this for her, not even as he demanded the opposite from her. But Vinnie was far from her mind, far from this moment filled with pleasure and Marilyn’s tongue.

"But you have to tell me if it feels good, Mercy. I want you to enjoy this.”

“I…please…don’t…don’t stop!” Mercedes managed. Fingers twisted in the sheets beneath them, knuckles white as her grip tightened, mirroring the grip of slick walls around Marilyn’s tongue. And then, when she slipped from Mercedes’ slit to kiss and suck her clit? Mercedes lost it.

Her body twitched, trembled, squeezing like a vice around her heart, her mind. Pulsing and receding, sensation moving along her veins as the blood coursed through her body. Once she finally came down from the heights of ecstasy her body felt like lead sinking sweetly into the mattress beneath her. Pushing up on her elbows was an effort, but her reward was Marilyn’s lust slick smirk and piercing dark eyes. “What did you do to me?”
 
"What did I do to you?" Marilyn's voice was husky, thick with desire as she crawled over Mercy's exhausted body. Her silk-sheathed hands cradled the other woman's face as she kissed her, letting her taste her own pleasure on her lips and tongue. "I tasted you, Mercy. Inside, like you wanted. Do you taste good?" Her lips found Mercy's once more, her slim body molding into Mercy's lush figure as she devoured her. "I thought you tasted good."

Had that son of a bitch...? Marilyn cut off the thought, shivering for a moment as rage and panic welled up. Instead she threw the emotion into sucking on Mercy's tongue, into sliding silk-gloved hands over sleek skin, into encouraging Mercy's legs to twine around her own. The taste of Mercy's pleasure and the feel of her body was so much better than the shame and terror those memories brought. "Touch me," she husked, nipping at Mercy's throat. "God, I want you touching me. Please."

Her hips moved as she nibbled on Mercy's skin, her own shaved mound rubbing against Mercy's slick pussy. "Fuck," she gasped, shivering as the movement brought a tiny orgasm. "God, fuck me Mercy." She found the other woman's lips once more, putting her whole body into the kiss as she gripped her hips with silken hands. "I... I want you... inside me." She shivered, staring hungrily down into Mercy's eyes. "Your fingers, your tongue... however. I don't care. I... I want you..."
 
“I’ve never done this before,” Mercedes sighed, drawn into the dark depths of Marilyn’s eyes. “Please, tell me what you like…” Her fingers were shy, nervous, breezing over skin. This was wrong, wasn’t it? Wrong, just felt so good, so natural, so much softer than the man who usually shared this bed with her. Reaching Marilyn’s breast, Mercedes hesitated, drawing back a touch. She sat up, tracing Marilyn’s curves with her eyes. Marilyn’s need dripped from each desperate syllable that left her lips and pressure of fingers digging into skin.

Mercedes knew what she liked, and decided to start there. Start with lips wrapped around Marilyn’s nipple, sucking and tugging gently, but with increasing need. Marilyn’s wordless sounds encourage Mercedes. Emboldened her hands to trail down Marilyn’s flat stomach and over her hairless mound. Mercedes gasped as the tip of one finger slid along Marilyn’s lips. “You’re so wet…” she teased, smiling down at Marilyn.

Holding her gaze, she experimented by pushing that tip deeper into Marilyn’s slit, savoring the other woman’s shudder and liquid silk that gripped her finger. That finger explored sultry walls, watching with eager curiosity for Marilyn’s reaction. Soon enough, she was stroking in and out, slow, deep motions that left Marilyn flushed under her attention. Another finger joined the first, and once she reached Marilyn’s depths, her thumb brushed Marilyn’s clit. An attempt to recreate the bliss Marilyn had introduced. Marilyn squirmed, cried out, and Mercedes gasped in unison. If a finger could accomplish that, what would her mouth achieve?

Fingers kept moving, kept driving, faster now, but just as deep. Mercedes bent over Marilyn, running a probing tongue over her clit, before wrapping her lips around it.
 
"Don't worry," Marilyn groaned as slim, soft fingers explored her curves. "You're AH!"

Ruby lips wrapped around her nipple, hesitant at first but growing more eager. Abandoning speech she gave herself over to pleasure, moaning and gasping and moving against the other woman as she explored her body and her own desires. Then she whimpered with need as a lone fingertip caressed her lips. "You're so wet..." Mercy teased, looking down into her eyes.

Marilyn nodded wordlessly as that single finger circled her clit. "I... I... UH!" That same finger pushed into her liquid depths, leaving Marilyn to arch into the motion as the slim digit stroked in and out of her. Just when she thought she'd caught her breath a second finger joined in, and Marilyn's head rolled back on the mattress as she whimpered in delight. Her breath came in gasps, chest having and gloved fingers frantically clawing at the bedclothes, ragged sounds of pleasure escaping her as the motion became more sure, more confident.

Shifting weight made the bed creak and the angle of the fingers filling her cunt change, massaging the upper surface of her walls as they drove in and out. Marilyn let her thighs open wider, her hips rising to meet the thrusts, whining as she felt her orgasm building but not peaking. "I... I..." she gasped, breaths coming shorter as she felt hot breath on her spread lips. "I... FUCK!" A tongue slid over her clit and then lips seized it, sucking and tugging and... 'Oh... oh... fuck!" she gasped out, uncaring about the vulgarities escaping her just then. Uncaring about anything but the bliss that filled her, the bliss and fingers and tongue that made her body bridge and her hips press up against the woman exploring her.

"Mer... mer... mercy..." she moaned, unsure if she was calling a name or pleading. Fuck, she was so close now. One gloved hand released the bed, sliding over her ribs to cup her small breast and pinch and caress her nipple in time with Mercy's fingers. The other stroked over Mercy's raven locks, silk threading through silk as she moaned and begged her to give her more. "Oh... oh fuck... Mercy... fuck... Mercy..."
 
Marilyn’s moans were so sweet, dripping with passion as each burst from her lips. Mercy savored each one, savoring the musky taste of Marilyn’s pleasure. There was a softness in being with a woman, a softness that was different from being with a man. A softness Mercy appreciated now, as she remembered how she’d been unable to go beyond kissing with William. But that thought brought guilt with it.

What sort of woman was she? That she could fuck a woman after trying to fuck that woman’s brother just a day before. All the while, she was married to another man. She didn’t love Vinnie, hadn’t for a long time, but she’d said vows to him.

Marilyn’s desperate cries torn through the worry and guilt. There would be time for that another day, tonight she was going to enjoy her brief freedom. Explore forbidden pleasure with a beautiful woman, pushing back against what Vinnie had done to her.

“Marilyn…” She sighed, breathing deep of her desire, before indulging once more, fingers not stopping. Not wanting to stop, not as smooth muscles throbbed and clenched. She remembered how Marilyn had made her feel, and it was only fair to repay the favor. Fair, and incredibly hot. “You feel so good, Marilyn.”
 
She couldn't take any more. Mercy wasn't as skilled as some of the other lovers she'd had, but her passionate enthusiasm more than made up for it. Fingers and tongue tormented her, making her clench around the singer's digits as she explored and played. She was saying something as well, but Marilyn couldn't understand it. Couldn't make any sens out of it, beyond just how fucking hot she sounded. Opening her mouth to respond, the only sound she could make was a whimpering whine as she spread her thighs wider, begging for release.

The feel of Mercy's slippery tongue on her clit once more granted her desire.

A hoarse cry of release echoed from the bedroom walls as Marilyn's walls clenched and rippled around Mercy's questing fingers. Her body undulated and thrashed, fingers tightening in the other woman's hair and head thrashing from side to side as she lost herself in rapture. When it finally ended, an instant or an eternity later, she sagged heavily into the mattress and gasped for breath. "I..." he gasped, throat hoarse. "I... wow. That... you're... you're good." Slowly, her silk-sheathed fingers relaxed the grip on Mercy's raven hair. "I mean... damnit... I'm babbling." Looking down the length of her body, seeing Mercy's lips and chin glistening with her juices, she shivered with a second, far less powerful orgasm. "You... feel so good, Mercy."
 
Mercy crawled back up Marilyn’s shivering body, planting slick kisses over her fair, slender frame. “You felt so good,” Mercedes insisted, looking down over Marilyn as moonlight highlighted her delicate features. “Felt so good, and tasted so good, and looked so good!” She laughed, sharing the taste of Marilyn’s pleasure with her in a deep, lingering kiss.

She settled down beside Marilyn now, still craving the soft warmth of the other woman beside her. “I…thanks, for this,” Mercy whispered, tracing patterns on Marilyn’s skin, over her hips and along her stomach, “I think I needed something like this…”

As easy as it would have been to just fall asleep then, warmed and soothed by Marilyn’s presence and the pleasure they shared, worry gnawed at Mercedes’ mind. “I don’t know what you want to do. I’d love it if you slept here, all night beside me, but I don’t know if it’s a great idea. I don’t think anyone will be by, not while that bastard is still in the hospital, but it’s up to you. Whether you want me to call you a cab, or take you home myself, or just stay with me…It’s up to you, Marilyn. Tel me what you want…”
 
"I... thanks, for this," Mercy whispered, sounding a little stunned.

Marilyn stretched luxuriously, enjoying the feeling of Mercy's fingers exploring her stomach as she settled in beside her. "You're thanking me?" she laughed, rolling slightly and kissing her. The taste of her pleasure lingered on her lips, making her wish she had the energy to further explore the gentle stirring they aroused. "I haven't climaxed that hard in... hell, I don't know."

"I think I needed something like this," Mercy added, voice almost shy.

"I..." Marilyn let her own fingers explore the curve of Mercy's spine. "So did I."

Mercy smiled at that, then gnawed at her lip. “I don’t know what you want to do," she finally said, sounding reluctant. "I’d love it if you slept here, all night beside me, but I don’t know if it’s a great idea. I don’t think anyone will be by, not while that bastard is still in the hospital, but it’s up to you. Whether you want me to call you a cab, or take you home myself, or just stay with me…It’s up to you, Marilyn. Tel me what you want…”

"I..." Her eyes hardened a little at the mention of Mercy's husband, and her gloved hands curled into fists. "You... you could come with me," she countered. "Or, I could stay here. And shoot that son of a bitch, when he gets home." Memories of pain and shame and terror hardened her voice. "I've dreamed of... of..." Voice breaking she turned away, hoping Mercy hadn't seen the sudden tears glittering in her eyes. "No, no... I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." She scrubbed at her eyes, the silk covering her hands dampening and darkening. "Maybe... it might be better if, if you... fuck."

Suddenly she rolled back, clutching Mercy's hands with her own. "Right now. Come with me, right now. Please."
 
Mercy let out a short laugh as Marilyn offered to shoot Vinnie. If only it were so easy. If only the Raven hadn’t missed. How would Marilyn take to hearing she’d attempted that very thing over a week ago? While Vinnie slept in this very bed, unaware how close he came to never waking up.

But Marilyn clearly wasn’t okay. “Shh, don’t worry about it.” Mercy whispered, laying light kisses on Marilyn’s face, even as she covered it to wipe away the tears. Had Vinnie hurt her too? How many lives had that bastard shattered?

"Right now. Come with me, right now. Please."

Now Marilyn plead with her, recalling what William had suggested and offered last night. It was even harder this this time to say no, tangled up with Marilyn and still wearing the scent of her lust. “I…” Mercedes started, lips quivering as emotions warred against worry. “I wish I could. I wish it were that easy, but…” It was her turn tot hold back the tears, or fail to hold them back as it were. Eyes closed, Mercedes just shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t, but dammit, I will ruin that bastard, if it’s the last thing I do.”

It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to end. Not this night, not after this beautiful thing they shared together. “I’ll ruin him, leave him for dead or even worse, and then, I’ll be free of him…” She looked at Marilyn, russet eyes wet with tears, “I am the only one who can get this close to him, Marilyn. I have to do this. For everything he’s done, I have to do this.”
 
Marilyn nodded jerkily, embarrassed by her sudden emotions and trying not to hide it. "I... I understand," she finally said, letting the air out slowly. "But... maybe you aren't the only one who can get close to him, Mercy. It was the Raven that shot him, after all. Whoever that is managed to get close. Maybe... heh, maybe the Raven will get closer next time?" She forced a laugh. "Listen to me. I sound like a little girl, wishing some masked do-gooder would save me."

Sighing, she stroked Mercy's lips and then kissed her lightly. "If, if you don't think it will be a problem, I'd like to stay. I can get a cab in the morning, if you need me to." Another kiss, this time lingering with promise. "After we shower, maybe?" Silk-sheathed hands explored Mercy's skin gently as she said it. Then she yawned in the middle of trying to draw out a third kiss, and giggled sheepishly at the action. "Wow," she laughed. "You really wore me out."

Stretching a little, she snuggled into the mattress and the woman next to her. Soon enough, she was sound asleep.
 
Curled up in Marilyn’s arms, Mercedes sleep well. Better than she had in the last week certainly, and even better than the nights she spent alone. Whether it was a feeling of safety or connection, Mercedes wasn’t sure, and she didn’t care to be all that sure.

Soft morning light spilled through the windows, highlighting Marilyn’s sharp features. Mercedes expected she would have felt more guilt and shame in the morning, freed from the influence of alcohol and the neediness of a difficult visit to her mother. But, the truth was, it wasn’t alcohol that lead them into bed together, and it wasn’t alcohol and inspired another craving of Marilyn’s taste this morning.

Instead of waking Marilyn with her lust, Mercedes opted to make breakfast. Nothing too heavy, pastries with fruit and coffee. Marilyn was stirring by the time Mercedes finished, placing a cup and saucer on the bedside table and placing a kiss on Marilyn’s forehead, “Rise and shine gorgeous.”
 
Marilyn awoke from uncomfortable dreams that mingled nightmare and eroticism to the feel of lips on her forehead and a murmured "Rise and shine gorgeous." She shifted and blinked and yawned and tried to work out what was going on, until she saw Mercy perched on the mattress and smelled the coffee on the bedside table. "Hey, uh, morning," she managed, rubbing sleep-crusted eyes with her gloved hands. After a few tries she managed to sit upright so she could pick up the coffee, experiencing an odd stab of embarrassment as the covers pulled away and exposed her to Mercy's gaze.

The coffee was strong and hot, and she sipped it gratefully. But as the sleep cleared, memories of last night returned. Specifically, memories of her wild plea that Mercy flee the house and her husband. "Gorgeous?" she stammered out, suddenly aghast that she had said those things. "I... I could get used to that..." And then she clapped her hand over her mouth, flushing crimson as she did. "I'm sorry. I, I shouldn't have said... that. Any... of that. It's just... just..."

Her hands shook as she set the cup back down on the saucer. She stared at them for a moment, then baled them into fists and tried to make the memories stop. "Will... told me. What that bastard did. To you." Her voice was hard now, clipped with the strain of holding emotion back. "And... you... you're not..." The fists grew tighter. "I'm sorry," she finally managed. "I... I'm ruining a lovely morning after a lovely night, aren't I?"
 
Mercedes’ gaze hardened as Marilyn spoke of her rat bastard of a husband and how he had hurt her, confirming what she’d suspected last night. He was a monster, scum who would better serve as a stain. Now it was another reason to get her revenge, another reason to destroy him and everything he held dear. But that wasn’t important right now, not with Marilyn breaking down before her.

“Nah, you ain’t ruined nuthin’,” she whispered, choking back the pain, “you aren’t…” She caressed Marilyn’s face, offering some meager comfort. Restraint be damned, she threw her arms around Marilyn, pulling her close. Was it for her benefit, or Marilyn’s? Both? “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wishing she had something better to say, “He’ll pay, for everything. I don’t know how yet, but he’ll pay.” The hug went on a bit longer, Mercedes finding herself unwilling to pull away before the demands of the day caught up with her.

“We should probably get you going,” she decided, wiping uncried tears from her eyes. “I think he’s supposed ta come home today, so…” a sighed filled in the unfinished thought. Forcing a smile, she planted a peck on Marilyn’s lips, “We can probably fit a shower in if we take it together…”



Despite the unspoken plea for Mercedes to flee Vinnie with Marilyn, she found herself at the hospital, all dolled up for a visit. Marilyn’s words repeated in her mind, and it was harder to wear the mask of dutiful wife today. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for something else she’d said, Mercedes might not have even made an appearance. But Marilyn had a point about the Raven, having gotten close enough to shot the bastard, and she recalled the hints of a trap she’d heard about the day before. She had few allies now, and she couldn’t risk losing any of them.
 
“Hey there, gorgeous!” Vinnie called as Mercedes entered the room. He whistled, watching her hungrily as he drank in her figure. “Been thinking ‘bout taking you out on the town to celebrate getting outta here, but...” hie caught her hand and pulled her down to him, his tongue forcing itself between her lips as he kissed her greedily. “Maybe I’ll just take you home, instead.”

“Boss?” Silvio prompted. “I was saying?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vinnie laughed, slapping Mercedes in the ass and steering her towards a chair. “Sorry doll, just a little business to take care of before the doc lets me go.” He leered at her. “Then I can take care of you, know what I’m saying?”

“Boss...” Sylvio repeated in tones of strained patience.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Vinnie huffed. “So..?”

“So it’s set,” the dead-eyed killer said. “Two Bit got rolled by the Raven last night, got that bird burned into his face and everything.” There was a grim humor in his rictus of a grin. “Word from Duffy is Two Bit sang like a canary, so he’ll be hitting the warehouse soon. Probably tonight, since I pruned Two Bit to think it’d only be unguarded for a couple of days.”

“Then we’ll have the son of a bitch,” Vinnie cackled.

“Yeah.” Sylvio grinned. “If the cops don’t get him, I’ll drag him in to you personally.” The grin turned nasty. “Whatever’s left if him, anyway.”
 
Mercedes squealed as Vinnie grabbed her, reminding her that the Raven hadn’t shot him in the arms, and he was still physically stronger than her. She hadn’t even a chance to prepare herself for his tongue to pry its way into her mouth, and it took a massive effort to hold down her breakfast. Silvio distracting him was a needed reprieve. Really, the information was almost too god, too tempting. Was this a trap for her as well? To see if she’d show up and show her true colors?

No, of course not. She was just a broad, and she didn’t do nothing but sing in the club and spread herself for Vinnie. So, she filed her nails in her best approximation of bored disinterest. “That’s nice hun. I know I wouldn’t feel safe out on the town if that bastard were still loose. I can’t live lookin’ over my shoulder, worried about maniacs taking a shot at ya.”



Once Silvio left, it didn’t take long for Vinnie to be discharged. It took a bit longer for him to hobble to the car on his crutches, which gave Mercedes a measure of hope. If his temper flared again, she’d be able to outrun him. But temper wasn’t his mood today, as he got handsy in the car, pinning her against the passenger side door. His body was half across on the seat, and heavy as he leaned into her.

“Vinnie, stop. Someone might see us,” she protested squirming as her skin revolted to his touch.

“And? Damn looky loos act like they ain’t ever seen a man with his wife before,” Vinnie complained, hand cupping her breast over the dress she wore. Panic spiked in Mercedes mind, urging her to fight off her rapist before he could hurt her again.

Instead she swallowed hard. “I could really use a drink, first. Why don’t I make ya a nice homecooked meal? Just the two of us.”
 
Vinnie grinned at the suggestion. “I like that, doll. I like it a lot. Be like when we first got married, y’know?” He kissed her once more, hands exploring her body as he did. “Yeah, let’s do it. I’ll light a couple later candles, and open a bottle of wine.” He kissed her once more, savoring it. “Beauty, talent, and brains. I’m a lucky son of a bitch, dollface.”

His mind is soured a little as he fumbled his way out of the car and shuffled along on his crutches. “Cage’s doing well, I hear. You been taking care of the place, Silvio says, and it shows. Getting it fixed up and still packing ‘em in the aisles. Hell, maybe I should let you run the place full time, y’know?” Then he missed his footing on the steps and came down on his injured leg. “Jesus fuck!”

Immediately, he shot Mercy a strained grin. “Sorry, doll. Just hurt like a bitch. Gonna need one of my pills, y’know?” He shuffled into the hall. “Silvio says that reporter broad’s been hanging round, though. The Stone woman.”

He hung his hat, then struggled a little with his coat and his crutches. “Watch that one, Mercy. She might be playing at being a society writer, but her brother’s the son of a bitch that runs the Daily Ne s. She’s probably just trying to use you to... hey...”. He chuckled darkly. “Maybe we can use that. What’s she been asking about?”
 
“Cage’s doing well, I hear. You been taking care of the place, Silvio says, and it shows. Getting it fixed up and still packing ‘em in the aisles. Hell, maybe I should let you run the place full time, y’know?”

“Not packing it yet,” Mercedes protested, getting the door for him, and hiding her glee at his agony. “But I am hoping to get it back open this week. Thursday, hopefully, but Friday at least. We already missed one weekend, no point in missing another.”

“Silvio says that reporter broad’s been hanging round, though. The Stone woman.”

Shit, he knew about Marilyn. Well, not everything about Marilyn, fortunately, thinking back to the evening they just spent together with smug satisfaction. Smug satisfaction that drained into dread, realizing she wasn’t going to be able to hold Vinnie off for long.

“I don’t know, she just seems like a fan. She was the one that wrote that glowing review of me. She’s been trying to figure when the Club’s gonna open back up. She asked ‘bout the Raven too. Maybe if the papers reported on him, he’d get caught faster, and outta your hair?”

Vinnie settled down in the parlor. The same parlor where she danced with Marilyn just hours before. Mercedes let the memory warm her, giving her the strength she needed to continue this charade. So, she poured him a drink, whiskey with vermouth and a splash of Campari, hoping after a couple of these he’d be in no shape to demand sex. And a pain pill couldn’t hurt. “Why don’tcha relax while I make dinner, alright?” She tried to leave him with a light kiss, but he pulled her closer, thick fingers twisting in her top to keep her close. Reminding her the ripping threads of her dress, as he bent her over the dining room table. She gasped when he finally pulled away, and he laughed at her reaction.

“Guess I still know how to take your breath away,” he joked, staring into her wide eyes. “Just a taste, dollface, of how Imma give it to ya tonight. I just know you were missin’ me.”

“You know it,” Mercedes said, pulling away b before he could grab her again. Once she turned into the hallway, however, she wondered if The Raven wouldn’t show up tonight, like he had in her dreams, and put that bastard out of her misery.
 
A little later...

“Damn, that smells good,” Vinnie Saturday d, wrapping his arms around Mercy’s waist and neck zone by the back of her neck. Shifting his weight, letting his good leg take it, he rubbed his hard leaned cick again nay her rump. “Lasagna smells good too,” he added with a laugh. His hips continued to move, grinding against net her as his hands slid up her dress to paw her breasts. “Gonna take a while before dinner’s ready though, ain’t it?”

He’d finished his drink and swallowed his pill, then relaxed in the couch and listened to Mercedes busying herself in the kitchen. It was sweet of her, really. Usually they let the housekeeper handle the cooking, but she clearly wanted tonight to be special. Grinning at the thought, he decided he’d make it special - he’d been in the hospital long enough that she’d be dripping for him, and the thought made him hard. Hell, maybe he could get her horny enough to do some of the things Isabel did for him. Wouldn’t that be a gas, watching Mercy's mouth on his cock? But even the f they didn’t get there tonight, he’d make sure to leave her begging for more. So he’d stood up carefully and limped into the kitchen, watching her move for a mi Ute before closing in.

“C’mon,” he urged, tugging on her wrist as he carefully shifted his weight. “Great man be a while before that’s Downie. Let’s go sit down.” Her playful resistance, coyly pulling at his grip, just made him harder, and he pulled her into his lap as he sat down. “God, baby,” he said full by his hands with her firm ass as she straddled him, “you feel so fucking good on me.” His teeth scraped her breastbone, and then he pulled her into a hungry kiss. “So fucking good.”
 
MF Dubcon scene: Vinnie and Mercy
  • Index
    • Mercedes hardly had time to drain her glass of gin before Vinnie grabbed her, and definitely didn’t have time to get another one before he pulled her onto his lap. But she was running out of excuses to avoid this, and if she delayed much more, things would get worse for her. After all, he’d proven already that her desire and consent were not necessary.

    “Stoppit Vinnie,” she murmured, hiding her disgust in demure innocence, “That’s so dirty.” The naïve virgin act usually worked for him. Maybe he’d blow his load quickly and leave her alone. But he shoved his slimy tongue down her throat and she fought her gut not to gag. Even with her eyes screwed shut, trying to imagine Marilyn or William or anyone else in the world, she was painfully aware of her husband, prodding her with his hardon.

    Still, realizing he was going to have trouble removing his pants gave her an idea. Maybe she could still get out of this without fucking him, though what she’d have to do instead wasn’t much better. Still she crawled backwards “How does this work now, with you injured? If I am going to do all the work, you need to tell me what to do…”” She cooed, settling on the down on the floor on her knees. Just like a show, Mercy. Just put on an act and he won’t last but a minute or two.

    Looking up at her husband, Mercy put on her best fake smile, the kind that was easy to wear at stage lights flashed in her eyes. Deft fingers worked at his pants, unbuckling his belt and dragging his slacks of pasty legs. His cock stood firm in his underwear, already twitching as she stayed on her knees before him. “Whaddya want me to do, Vinnie?” she asked, hoping he’d get himself worked up as she eased the slacks off him. Ugh, the stench of stale sweat and musk invaded her noise, and she could tell he hadn’t bathed the whole time he was in the hospital. Swallowing down her revulsion, she reached into his underwear to grab his cock. “Tell this good Catholic girl what to do to get you off.”
     
  • Index
    • Vinnie's eyes went wide as Mercy crouched between his legs, working at his fly. “Whaddya want me to do, Vinnie?” she asked, stroking his aching dick. “Tell this good Catholic girl what to do to get you off.”

    Holy fuck that was hot! He wasn't sure if he was up for more than once tonight, what with the drugs and the ache in his healing leg, but she was playing the "good Catholic girl" thing she did when she wanted him bad. Who was he to turn her down? "Well, doll," he husked, running his fingers through her raven hair, "you look so good down there, on your knees. Never thought I'd see you do that, baby." He wrapped his hand around hers, using her grip to squeeze his cock as he brushed his purplish head against her lips.

    "Reviews say you got the mouth of an angel, baby," he husked, leaning back in his chair and scooting his hips forward. "Whyn't you show me just how true that is?" He felt her lips part, and stared in shock and fascination as she took his head in her mouth. "That's it, baby doll." He gripped her hair with both hands now, encouraging her to move along his shaft. "Use that good Catholic mouth on me, baby. Show me just how dirty you can be, baby."
     
    Mercedes licked her lips, trying to put more space between Vinnie’s desires and her own disgust. He was never much for patience, however, prodding her lips, urging them open. She hated herself as she complied, laving his head with saliva until it was easy to slide down his shaft. Eyes closed, she tried not to cry, tried not to gag. One hand continued to work his cock, stroking up and down in time with her slippery lips. The other caressed his thigh, aware of how close his injury was. Resisting the temptation to hurt him, the way he hurt her. But it gave her another idea.

    Inspired now, she gripped him tighter, mouth sinking deeper down his length. Driving to bring him to climax, while her other hand inched down his thigh. Measuring her progress carefully, growing closer to his wound as he drew closer to his climax. His breathing grew rapid, his hands in her hair more insistent, and her own hand slipped even lower. Desperately, she pulled off his cock right as he came, sticky strings of ejaculate spurting forth, landing on her chin and breasts, before dribbling down her fingers.

    Right at that moment, when he was at the height of pleasure, she grabbed his knee, right where he’d been shot. Fingers digging in for just a second, just long enough to fit the excuse that she’d forgotten. Ecstasy became agony, transforming the half-lidded open expression on his face into wide eyes white with rage. Mercedes threw herself back then, reminding herself she could outrun him right now, before falling into the prepared apology and excuse. “Oh Jesus Vinnie, I’m sorry! I forgot about your knee, and it shocked me when you came, I wasn’t thinkin’. Christ, Vinnie, baby, you okay? D’ya need ‘nother pill?”

    She stayed out of his reach in those moments, while fury consumed his features, his seed still dripping down her face. Two more tense heartbeats, he nodded, “Yeah, get me ‘nother pill. ‘Nother drink, too.”

    “Course, baby, course, anything for you,” Mercedes acknowledged, letting herself be relieved he believed her. Let him see that she was still scared of him and appreciated his benevolence in not retaliating. He’d definitely be out after this, and she’d be safe until morning.

    “Let me just clean up before dinner finishes,” she explained, watching his throat bulge as another pill went down. He nodded, drinking deeper of his gin, and she made for the bathroom.

    With the shower running, Vinnie wouldn’t be able to hear her cry. Or vomit, bile tasting better in her mouth that his cock had. It took nearly a half hour of luxuriating under the hot water to calm herself enough to face Vinnie again, but by the time she was out, so was he. Knocked out, that was. Thank fucking God.

    Once she took dinner out of the oven, she dressed to meet the Raven, and warn him about the trap.
     
    Hard eyes watched the warehouse entrance from across the street, making note of the comings and goings of the men who worked within. It certainly appeared that the information was good, but the Raven wasn’t interested in making mistakes. Mistakes, as a vigilante, were an easy way to die. So the masked vigilante watched as the late shift ended and hard men stumped out , some to cars and elevated trains, others directly towards local watering holes to drink away their day’s wages. And still, the Raven waited.

    The sun set, bringing a chill wind off the lake. The Raven watched as the last lights went out in the warehouse, and the last of the workmen locked up for the night. No doubt the bootleggers would have a guard or two in n the premises still, but that was easily handled. Still, caution was called for. The Raven checked each of two blued .45 automatics in turn, inspecting to make sure the action was clear and the magazines were loaded. The spare magazines were inspected next, and then the special smoke and gas grenades. Finally, it was time to inspect the ungainly rifle and the grappling hook it mounted, and the spook of rope that anchored around a chimney.

    Everything was ready.

    The Raven flexed leather-gloved hands, loosening fingers made stiff by waiting and cold. Then, hefting the rifle, the vigilante sighted along it and downwards, aiming at the roof of the warehouse. There was a barking cough of a report and a hissing would of unreeling role, and the muffled sound of steel striking wood. The Raven tugged at the line, checking that it had caught. Then, hand over hand, the black figure swung along the rope and finally dropped silently onto the roof.

    Still no response.

    Smiling grimly, the Raven drew an automatic. Time to get to work.
     
    As Mercedes pulled up to the warehouse, she identified several problems with this ill-conceived plan. How was she going to find the Raven? He was a master of stealth. She might have known he was going to be there, but she wasn’t the only one.

    And that was the other problem. Would she find him before Silvio did? Or would she have to watch helplessly as Vinnie’s men tortured him? Would he give up her name, in mad desperation? He didn’t seem the sort but pain was a powerful motivator. What if, in trying to find the masked vigilantes, they found her instead?

    Despite her fear, Mercedes parked in the shadows, watching the warehouse. Her revolver was a welcome weight on her hip, a hope that she could defend herself, if nothing else. The last couple kerosene bottles clinked on the passenger’s side floor. It wasn’t much to call upon, but hopefully, she wouldn’t have to. All she had to do was find the Raven and get the hell away from here. Just find a man who didn’t want to be found, before others who knew he was here found him. Or her. Easy as fucking pie, right?

    Despite all that, she did see him. At least, that probably was him, up on the roof, wasn’t it? Shit! He was already in place, ready to strike. No chance to warn him. Time for a new plan, then. Sticking to the shadows, Mercedes watched the warehouse. Watching the burning orange smoke fill it, and the flashes of white gunfire. More importantly though, she watched the outside, looking for shadows moving in the darkness, ready to descend upon their prey. As the smoke began to clear within the warehouse, she saw them. Twenty of them. Fuck, they sure as hell weren’t playing around, were they?

    The smoke had cleared, and the warehouse was surrounded. Guns aimed within, two men stationed at each window and four at the main door. Two threw it open in unison, and the rest of the men lit up the building, Tommy gun fire spraying from every direction. Mercedes' heart froze for a moment before her resolve strengthened. Now or never!

    With all eyes focused on the warehouse, she lit and throw a kerosene bottle, striking the two men closest to her. While that captured everyone’s attention, she took a shot, managing to hit one of the men at the door. She was running before she could see if he went down or not. Keep moving, keep moving. Strike from the shadows and keep moving. Once she made it to the next alley, she tossed her last improved firebomb, striking the west side of the building. Chaos reigned, half the men trying to get the fires out, a handful of the men looking for the Raven, and the rest looking for her. All she knew now was that she sure as hell couldn’t get caught.
     
    It was a glimpse of movement that saved the Raven’s life. As the vigilante was talking a stick of dynamite into place on a barrel of bootleg whiskey, a shadow briefly crossed the patch of light cast by the streetlight outside and a mixture of caution and paranoia sent the masked figure diving into the shadows. An instant later there was a roar of gunfire and the sound of breaking wood. “Gonna die on yer feet, ya masked freak?” demanded a harsh voice. “Or do we gotta come get ya?”

    The Raven’s answer was the barking thunder of a .45 automatic. The harsh voice laughed as the speaker dove for cover. “Right, hard way. No problem. Silvio wants you alive, though?” He laughed. “We’re gonna make a fuckin’ example outta you!”

    The Raven fires repeatedly, hammering bullets randomly to keep the nook down. Not good. This was not good. Particularly with the warehouse lights coming on and more men rushing in through the doors. The vigilante dropped two of them, then dragged out a gas grenade and tossed it. Greyish smoke filled an entrance, sending gunmen staggering and retching back into the streets. But more rushed in, coming through other doors. And some of them wore gas masks.

    Crouching, the Raven tire the stick of dynamite free and lit it while scuttling along the wall. Bullets tracked the Dark figure, dogging booted heels until the sizzling explosive arched overhead. As men dove for cover the Raven kept and grabbed a second story catwalk, making it onto the raised platform as the explosion shook the room.

    A second and a third explosion followed, filling the warehouse with smoke and flame. Unwilling to look the gift horse in the mouth, the Raven sprinted towards the stairs to the roof. A bedraggled man in a gas mask came into view, raising a tommy gun. He was fast but the Raven was faster, and the chopper-man screamed as he pitched backwards, clawing at the slug in his gut.

    The Raven vaulted his body, unconcerned if the man was living or dead. There was too much else to worry about, like the submachinegun fire ripping the catwalk apart as several brunos fires blindly. In response the vigilante threw two more gas bombshell. The tear gas might not effect the gas-masked killers, but the smoke - in combination with the flames and smoke of the burning barrels - would confuse matters further.

    More gunfire erupted as the Raven made the roof, sending the vigilante back into the shelter of the stairwell. Returning fire, theRaven got a good look past the Wait by gunsels and swore briefly. They’d cut the grappling line. Which meant that escape would be even harder.
     
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