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La Cosa Nostra [ Blackthrone & Fruit ]

Fruit

Best Girl
Joined
Jun 21, 2012
Location
next door
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Teresa.png
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It all worked like clockwork. Men were extremely easy to manipulate; show them the smallest sign of interest in their cocks, and they'll crawl over to you like acquiescent puppies. When my father described Ted to me, he used words like 'righteous' and 'trusting'. That sounded about right, I'd thought a minute after I started talking to the politician. Theodore J. Burke had a gentle voice when he spoke, and when he listened his eyes told on his blatant fondness of me. It took me no more than a few bashful smiles to lure him in, and after a short-lived chat, I found myself holding his hand as I guided him towards the hotel room my father had prepared. Hook, line, and sinker. It was as easy as that, but I was pretty sure he thought I was the easy one.

The plan was to assassinate the senator. At least, that was what the other Mafioso were led to believe by my father. As to why the great Don Eladio decided to send his own daughter to kill the man, that remained a mystery to the whole lot of them. They protested angrily when he announced his plans, while I smirked and watched them try and contain their anger. They took it as an insult. "You don't trust us, boss?", Ricky Bianchi whined that day. "I can't believe he trusts a woman more than us", I'd heard him saying to Marco when we were dismissed. Something about preferring a woman over him seemed to tick him off. Everyone in the mob gang wanted the senator dead for his stance on mob criminal activity. Burke openly despised and attacked the mafia activity in New York, calling for harsher penalties, legal reforms to fix all the loopholes the mob had been abusing for decades, and even direct, armed confrontation with the Mafia. The latest piece from the New York Times claimed Burke advocates the death penalty for all mob members currently under trial.

It was no wonder they all wanted him dead, and why they'd kill me if they knew I was sent to suck his cock. The mafia wanted nothing to do with prostitution and sexual scandals, let alone a leader who'd whore his own daughter for his business - or a daughter eager to be.. obedient to further her father's influence. Yet I understood why my father wanted him alive. Ted was growing immensely popular with his anti-mob rhetoric. The entire city revered him as a local hero. There was no way my father was willing to turn him into a martyr. "If we kill him we attract more of his supporters to go after us", he told me, "more politicians will hijack the news of his death to ride the anti-mob wave and push for regulations that will cripple our operations in the city". Instead, Don Eladio had to resort to sending his own flesh and blood to.. 'befriend' his enemy. Hug him, kiss him, fuck him, whatever it took to win his trust. "Keep an eye on him. Learn his secrets and let me know, mia figlia" he told me, and that I shall.

We climbed the stairs hand in hand. I rested my body against his chest, while his gentle hand found solace against my waist. I could feel his heart beating under my cheeks, he's excited, I thought, he just remembered he's married. I'd met this man mere minutes ago, yet he showed me the child inside him. When we drank downstairs, I told him I was a starting actress. That I had dreams of going to Hollywood and one day work with John Wayne. That gave him a chuckle, to which I responded with a shy giggle. Hook.

When we got to room 515, our lips had already formed a cross. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, and he carried me with ease as he opened the door. I could feel his erection growing against me. The fabric between us was almost a phantom; I felt his his arousal and erection, and he my lust and wetness. "You're not supposed to laugh at your dreams, honey! At least fake a straight face, a good actor could do that!" he had teased me downstairs, and I responded as coyly as ever, "Oh, so the senator likes girls that can fake it?". That gave him a chuckle, and from me - a giggle. Line.

We kissed, and kissed, and kissed, then slowly sunk onto the bed with him on top of me, his weight pinning me down. "You're a great kisser", I moaned onto him when we broke for air, then I fumbled to undress myself. I unbuttoned my dress quickly while we resumed kissing, then quickly managed to tug the dress down and expose my chest to him. Sinker

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RE: La Costa Nostra [ Blackthrone & Fruit ]

Pressure.
For most who are content to follow the herd, to be led around by the nose, they will never understand the true meaning of the word. Or, the needs of those do know. But not all of us are born able to suffer mediocrity and middling obscurity.

Among the cattle-like men who make up most of humanity stride true leaders, giants - Presidents, Captains of Industry, Senators, Governors, even Cardinals. Those men , who like me , seek to lead, to strive, to get things done, we share the terrible knowledge of the price extracted by pressure. We all cope with it in various ways . We all used the bottle to some extent or another, but if you wanted to last in Politics, you didn't get drunk, it affected your judgement , after all. Still, there were many tales of those who sought to lead who later drank it all away. Take the edge off, sure, but the liquor wasn't ever going to be my particular poison.

Others used medicines. A polite word for it. They had special doctors who would get them prescriptions for "special medicines" you wouldn't want to take in public. But if I am not going to get polluted on alcohol, I sure as hell wasn't about to inject something from Asia into my veins.

No, for me, it was usually exercise. Squash, rowing, weights. But all that health came with a price, I was a healthy red-blooded man, athletic ; my wife lived back upstate while I spent most of my time in Manhattan or DC. And of course, I had married like a man with politics foremost in his mind when searching for a mate - a solid family name, education, someone who would give me children and help me create the American Dream for all to see. But a woman like that, she couldn't really give me the things a powerful man needs, that he yearns for. She was a nice gal and that was all she would ever be. That left me often in a sense of terrible need.

So I decided, as I climbed the stairs hand and hand this younger woman, that I could forgive myself. The girl might have mentioned her name was Teresa but I wasn't really listening that close to her name, if you know what I mean. She seemed to be a total vixen, younger , nubile, and yet she had in her eyes a true sense about herself, and especially about sex. It wasn't just her face or body or my need. There was a sense of fun in it, not just the need I had and that I was guessing she had , too. I mean, why else was the girl doing this if not for her needs, whatever they might be. She reminded me in all the best ways of Holly Go Lightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's If one of those needs was money, I could handle that.

But she didnt seem like that type, in fact she seemed a little shy. It was almost like taking advantage of the poor young thing. And yet something in that made me extra hard. That was the darkness in me that I very rarely let out. But as I lay atop her and gazed into her eyes, it seemed that it was the darkest parts of me that this girl wanted. Suddenly there were no more pending votes in my head, or constituents to call back. She filled my entire mind now.

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It all seemed so easy , like it was meant too be. We met, she laughed, then we were heading upstairs , and now in he room. As we made out our bodies pressed close, and she could feel my urgency, my manhood. As I laid atop her, she squirmed out of her dress , showing her chest. I put laid trail of kisses on her collarbone working to her breast , then putting my mouth to her breast , after awhile moving to the other one. I was getting to know them as I caressed them with my hands, I squeezed lightly to feel how she responded to my touch. It made me growl with need under my breath. This was not normal but the woman was absolutely intoxicating to me. For a moment I saw my adviser Max who had warned me that the fairer sex would be my undoing. But there in the moment laying atop her, I knew then I wanted, needed her to be my strength, not my undoing.

Adjusting her clothes a bit more, I put my mouth on her bare breast now and sucked it hungrily awhile the other one I rolled and teased the nipple. I could not take it any more, so I took her hand and brought it down to my manhood, whispering into her ear "This is what you have done to me. Now I need t know how you plan to fix it, and fair warning, no faking, sorry, I simply have to have you. " I had put myself out there a bit , it was not a smart thing, but it was how I felt with this woman.
 
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I wasn't always this confident around men. There was a time in my life when I was a timid, bashful virgin who couldn't conjure two complete sentences when talking to a man or maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds. My father first noticed how men would stare at me when I became of age and slowly started taking advantage of that. He gradually had me interacting with men. At first I was humoring them; talking sultrily and promising them sexual favors, then my interactions became more and more physical. I wore scanty skirts, and put on make up and perfumes for them. I learned how to approach the ones that were too shy, and how to charm those that desired a brain with every set of tits they suckled on. With time I learned how to read what each man wanted from his lady and to feed into his needs before slowly reeling him to my lap like a fish. I became a artist; my art was seduction.

Whenever they laid on top of me, I could see in their eyes all their desires and aspirations. Whenever I mounted them, I could feel their heartbeat under my palm, as if I was holding a beast's leash. They had always pulsed with lust, but never have I felt attached to them. It was as if they were a guitar and I was merely pulling the right strings. I always struggled not to feel like an object used to sate a man's libido, but I took comfort in knowing that although I was a mere pawn, I was helping my father's business in ways men could never do. I served him diligently. I was a member of the family - the only female member, in fact - which meant my services were not only noted but appreciated.

He guided my hand towards his cock, as if didn't know my way around a man's body well enough. I squeezed his shaft and it quickly sprung to an erection, and I fondled it through the fabric for a few hot seconds before I undressed him; I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and the cock peaked out to meet me. My eyes wandered down his length then glanced back to his face with a coy smile, subtly letting him know I liked it. Men like this, I thought, It drives them crazy knowing their cocks were oh-so-perfect. I bit my lips, knelt down, opened my mouth, then swallowed my pride.

I took his pecker down my throat. It grew warmer and thicker between my lips as my tongue swirled around the shaft, touching it from different places while the man groaned as if I was playing a flute. I bobbed my head up and down his length, gradually diving deeper, and deeper, and deeper until my chin could feel his balls, and my nose found itself deep in a sea of black hair. One.. two.. three.., I counted and held my breath, then rose back to the surface and smiled to my man while all sorts of juices trickled down my chin and between my breasts. "Do you like it, honey?" I asked as I held his cock and stroked it before pressing my lips against it for a peck, then dove in for another bout.

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[img=511x725]https://i.snag.gy/i6VWPo.jpg[/img] I had been with more than my share of women before, but most of them were timid, almost as if they were ashamed of their own bodies much less mine. Worse it was like they were afraid to do it with the lights on , as if they might somehow peak beyond the veil and be damned for all eternity for the crime of seeing a guy's pecker. Then there were the eager young staffers and coeds one met giving speeches at universities. They were hot and meant well , but still didn't really know what they were doing and could be a bit squeamish at first.

A few others weren't afraid, but they were usually too far in the other direction. Grasping, brash, obvious, almost bossy. Who had time for a broad like that? Then there were the pros - they knew what they were doing, but most of them were so badly jaded that they were disinterested or faking it badly.

This girl was different than all of them. She knew her body, and she knew a man's body, and she knew men as well. But it was more than that, she was much more. She was sweet, demure, almost shy. As if she had been designed to appeal directly to a guy like me. I could hardly believe my luck.

Everything she did made me harder. It was like she knew some magical language and was casting a spell on my cock. It was almost like she was a pro, but in my mind, there was no way this sweet young thing could possibly be a pro. I mean yeah, if she were , she would have been worth her weight in gold. I was absolutely enthralled as she went down on me , slowly at first. But then bobbing her head, I groaned. I could feel the veins in my member bulging as my blood pumped hotter for this vixen, causing me to throb and pulse in her mouth. I closed my eyes now and groaned, resting my large hand atop her lovely head, and then caressing her cheek with my strong fingers.

As my cock got bigger, my brain began to lose blood it seemed, I could no longer remember what she had said her name was. But I could see her face even with my eyes closed it seemed, her mouth around my shaft, sucking me, taking me deeper. I opened my eyes as she held her breath with me deep inside her throat. Her nose buried in my hair, my cock making a bit of a bulge in her throat. I was being driven wild by the sight of this angel loving my manhood and knowing exactly what to do with it.

"Oh baby I love it" I responded immediately and then added "I want you so badly.. I have to have your pussy"


I groaned as she went back down on me, making my cock throb even harder, and soon I was gasping for air. I tried to guide her insistently to let loose my shaft so I could lay her down and part her legs, I wanted to be inside her so badly. Right here in room 515 I decided that I wanted more from a woman than just her mouth to service me, and I wanted it from her. On the other hand, I was more than happy if she wanted to continue her amazing ministrations on my head. After all, the night was young, and I had no plans on letting this gal get away.
 
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There were two types of males in my world: men and boys. Men made the leaders of the world. What they desired they simply grabbed with no repercussions. Boys were only good for pleading and whining, and instead of seizing what they sought, they'd reach over and their hands would fall short while they flailed them helplessly. During the hour I first met Ted, he presented and conducted himself as a man. Yet the instant my lips tightened around his shaft, he squirmed and panted like a teenage boy. I thought he was the sort of man to lift me up, pin my down, and spread me with his cock, but he resorted to pleas and polite chivalrous requests. He's gonna' be easy to play, I remember thinking to myself when he mentioned wanting to 'have me'.

A thin thread of saliva bridged the gap between my lips and his cock when I pulled him out. I stroked him as he hardened under my grip. I could feel his lust, his warmth, and rock-hard erection between my fingers. It felt like I owned him at that instant, as if I was seizing a dog by his leash, and I proceeded to stroke him and kiss him and smile at him. My back rested against the bed and I looked up at him dreamily, biting my lips and smiling as innocent as a whore. I decided to hand him the modesty my clothes were covering, and slowly guided his erection into my skirt, around the fabric, and between my folds.

I couldn't help but let out a purr when he entered me. My eyes rolled up and I held my breath until he was fully sheathed inside me, and I couldn't breathe until he pulled out - but by then my breaths turned into moans. And as he continued thrusting, and I moaned and moaned. I called his name, I rallied his spirits, I prayed for God, and I cursed. His balls were spanking my cheeks with every stab, and my groans continued to shamelessly echo in the room, singing to the rhythm our bodies orchestrated with the squeaking bed.




A week later...

I couldn't believe it when Marco told me that my father was murdered. My relationship with him wasn't as intimate as most father-daughter relationships were but I've always looked up to him with respect and he'd always treated me with respect. Ever since I'd been a little girl he believed in me even if he didn't bother to hug me every morning or kiss me every night. That day when I stared at his dead face I couldn't contain the rage that filled me. Poor Marco was shaking next to me as he explained the probable cause of death but I didn't need an autopsy report to know that the blue veins around my father's neck meant that he was choked to death. I could see the marks the culprit left around the veins from all the choking. Poor man must have been struggling for minutes, I remember thinking as I slowly sobbed at the scene.

Everyone had been at the death scene that day and everyone attended the funeral as well. From the oldest veterans in the family to the newest recruits. Ricky Bianchi was among the youngest men in the family. He stared at the coffin solemnly as it was buried. Poor man couldn't keep his eyes on mine when he gave me his condolences but I couldn't tell if it was sorrow that overtook him or my intimidation. The siblings Marco and Cristina Romano were there as well as Peter Little, Gio and Lucus Tribbiani, and others. No authorities were contacted regarding the murder as per the Omerta. The code of silence, I thought of it when I saw my father's corpse, I wonder if my father's corpse will twist if I decide to call the cops.

The next day all members of the family gathered for a meeting as elections for the new boss were to be held.

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Senator Theodore J Burke.

I had a smile on my face for the next week and more. Say what you like, the timing was of course damned inconvenient, but with that Theresa girl, I could tell it was the real thing. At least, it was for me. The things she knew. The way she handled my manhood. I knew I had to have more. And I made sure to let her know how to contact me on the QT.


True love , sure it was a suckers bet. And sure it was really bad timing, what with me being a newlywed and all. But I mean Mrs Fishlips my new blushing bride wasn't exactly burning up the sheets. She had been an arranged marriage anyhow, one of political convenience. She was of course attractive, but she had no passion. Sure, she laid down and spread her legs whenever I told her ,like any good wife in the modern era of the early 1960s did. After all, this was America. We had won the war and we were winning the peace, forget that nasty little Korean thing. Men were men and we knew our place, and women knew theirs too.

But with Theresa, there was something more. And that was why I had made the momentous decision to tell the truth when my top political guy Alan Shapiro asked what the girl's name was. The conversation was fresh in my mind

'Alan I am telling you, her name is Theresa, and this is not some random bimbo. I think this is fate. She might have been the one I should have waited for. I can tell you the things I want to do with her, but I don't feel like I need to be so strong handed with her all the time, its like, she wants it, and not like a whore, but classy'


Alan had scoffed 'Oh so you have fallen in love with a CLASSY whore. Oh well , golly gee willakers, that makes a world of difference. Are you fucking kidding me Teddy? Come on, you want a whore, I will rent us some whores, we can bang them and send them away. You know thats the important part, you don't pay a whore to bang them, girls do that naturally. You pay them to go the fuck away'

I had been pretty pissed with Alan at that point. Granted it had caught him off guard, we had been previously approving the new political signs for the primary races "TJB - He's with me!"

Still, if I had had any inkling that he might know a whole hell of a lot more about Theresa then he had let on, I would be nonplussed . But as I saw it, what the hell good was it having power if I couldn't have the woman of my choice. And I chose Theresa, it was as simple as that. Didn't mean I had to go making a scene, announcing it, taking her out as my best girl. But I mean, if I didn't go broadcasting it, it was not like the press would. Look at JFK and his dalliances with Marilyn Monroe and Judith Exner and a lot more of them. Heck they had hidden the fact that FDR . The press would be only too happy to cover for good old TJB, too. As long as I didn't do anything overly hypocritical, of course.

Meanwhile I would have done anything to see Theresa right then. But she was no where to be found.


---

Alan Shapiro on the other hand, in a way, knew exactly where Theresa was because he was looking at her , even if he wasn't quite aware of it, lost in his thoughts as he was.

He had arrived at the funeral wearing a dark suit, somber tie overcoat and a hat , the hat to obscure his face in case the Feds were up to their tricks of taking photographs of guests at mob funerals. He kept to himself for the most part, but had a few key brief meetings. No election was going to be won in the modern era without some mob involvement. Mostly it all went to one side, Alan was a realist. He wanted mainly to just have it even out.

Sure, his guy might be a big anti mob crusader, but when it came down to it as President, Alan would make sure Teddy had his focus on other policies. There were a lot of other priorities that could be a lot mmore profitable for all concerned.
 
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The elections were held in my father's basement. Only members of the family were invited and, aside from myself, they were all males. Hopefully their cocks won't unite them against me, I remember thinking as I heard Peter Little conclude his little speech on why he deserved the family's leadership. Compared to Marco Romano's speech, Peter's had more logic and less passion, which is why he stood no chance at winning, I thought. Mobsters wanted a leader who was as dedicated to the cause as they were. They were the ones risking their necks on the streets and a spirited leader they could rely on is what they needed out of this election. Peter could negotiate his way even to the US presidency, but winning the Mafia election is not nearly as easy. You needed both heart and brains, and you needed wealth and connections. To win the US elections you just needed to be the better liar and fuck the right businessman's daughter.

My speech was short and direct. I reminded them of everything my father fought for and achieved, and promised them that I'd continue his quest to expand our territory and further our business. I didn't exactly get a standing ovation but I saw some heads nodding shyly, some smiled, and my few loyal supporters found the balls to clap every time I paused. I thought it went well up until Ricky Bianchi decided to speak up and ruin it. "And after you become our boss, missy, will you still go back to whoring with politicians?"

His sharp words caught me by surprise. We silently but tensely stared into each other's eyes from across the room. People began to shuffle in their seats and whisper to one another while I flushed all shades of red and flustered to find words. "Excuse me?" was all I managed to utter, and as soon as the words left my lips, I knew I was washing my neck for the executioner. "I saw you and Teddy Burke going into a hotel the other day" he declared almost proudly, and I acted surprised at his accusation. "Tell me, Teresa, did you spit or swallow?". And just like that, the mob erupted into chaos. The room was almost shaking with people hurling insults at one another, "This is the boss's DAUGHTER he's trying to implicate here" someone yelled from across the room. If they believed I was fucking Burke then it was either I was in love with him or I was whoring myself for political favors - and who knew which of the two was the more abhorrent crime? The Mafia despised sexual dealings just as much as they loathed the government, and a sexual dealing with a member of the government was enough reason for them to outright shoot me on spot.

I swallowed as if I was answering Ricky's question. "I met with Burke, but I never fucked him", I solemnly lied. "So you only planned with him to get the boss killed? That's comforting!". Again, the room boiled with insults and accusations, and they only grew louder when Ricky presented photographic evidence to back his claim that I met with Burke - I already admitted to meeting Ted. Why is he so proud of these photos?. "He is MY FATHER!" I slammed the table as hard as I could, successfully enforcing silence in the room. "I'd never plot against him or have him hurt, let alone killed. You've got some nerves saying this while I'm mourning! Shame on you, Ricky. Shame!". I started weeping on the spot like a Hollywood actress, and this womanly weapon proved to be stronger than Ricky's photographs and sharp tongue. People looked ashamed to have considered this conspiracy, at least for a second, before Ricky opened his mouth again.

"So why did you meet Burke, if you don't mind me asking?" All eyes turned towards me in anticipation for my response. I wiped my tears to buy more time to think, and then spoke with as much innocence I could muster, "My father sent me to negotiate a deal with Burke. He's prepared to help us in the near future, but we still need to discuss a few more things... I can't say more... Boss wanted everything to be a secret". I sighed, and someone blurted out a blunt reminder - an unnecessary one - that my father is dead. "I'll share everything with the new boss we'd elect".

Needless to say, I wasn't the new boss, and Marco Romano called me to his room to learn about my dealings with the senator. FUCK..

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