Gray light penetrated the dark interior of the limousine as the door across from her opened. Isabel Abbate slid across the soft leather seats and swung her legs around to place her black heels onto the wet pavement. Her son, Anthony, there to offer his hand, was otherwise occupied with holding the umbrella over her.
Isabel slowly stood up and took a long second to collect herself. She smoothed the wrinkles in her dress and clutched her onyx purse with black-gloved hands in front of her. Finally, she raised her eyes and held her head high. She peered through the black lace veil and her eyes followed the carpet laid below the green canvas awning leading to the doors of the funeral parlor. She recognized almost every mourner that slowly shuffled their way into the entrance ahead of her. Sobbing ladies grasped the arms of overweight men all dressed in black. Younger, slimmer men donned black suits but with bolder colors showing in their ties and handkerchiefs. Gray-haired widows who had attended far too many of these very ceremonies in their lifetimes made their way to the door ahead of her. She even recognized the uniformed police officers working the traffic detail in the street; and they certainly knew who she was.
Isabel made it a point to be seen as a rock-solid, independent symbol in this trying time. She eschewed her son’s offered arm and with determined steps, walked the length of the carpet to the door. Her composure was a reminder to people that she may be burying her husband today, but she wasn’t burying her own life with him.
A middle-aged man with light brown hair touched with gray at the temples awaited Isabel at the entrance. Frank Ciccone, consigliere to the Abbate family, held the door for her. Due to his position, Frank had seen a lot of funerals, so he stood tall and stoic aside the door as she approached. He gave her a small, polite smile as she passed him. She steadfastly maintained her forward gaze and walked into the funeral home.
The sitting room over-flowed with floral arrangements, exotic flowers, massive plants, and gaudy decorations that, if it weren’t Carmine’s funeral, would have seemed completely overdone. Buried among the flowers were a set of large wooden double-doors leading into the actual parlor. The flowers seemed to have outgrown their original plantings and rimmed the parlor.
Everywhere she looked, Isabel saw Carmine’s friends, associates, acquaintances and even a few of his enemies. There would be more, a lot more. She continued her dignified walk through the sitting room directly into the parlor where Anthony and Frank greeted each other, hugged and then followed Anthony’s mother toward the casket.
The funeral director, a small elderly man, waited to greet her. With a wise, soft voice and a distinct Sicilian accent, he held his arms open to her and said, “Mrs. Abbate. We are very sorry for your loss.” Isabel took his hands and turned her head slightly as he kissed each cheek. “I hope everything is to your satisfaction. We have done our best to make your last memory of Carmine as pleasant as possible.”
“Thank you, Gino,” she replied. “Everything is beautiful, thank you.” Her polite smile warmed his eyes and he smiled back.
“We were all deeply saddened to hear the news about Carmine. If there’s anything you need, please let me know. Please, allow me to take your coat.” Isabel shifted her back to him and he slid the simple black coat from her shoulders. “I will return momentarily,” he said, retreating.
Isabel turned to Anthony and Frank who were standing behind her. She gave her purse to Frank who remained silent as she tugged each finger and pulled the gloves from her hands. She folded them gently together and handed them to Anthony. In doing so, she finally turned her head toward the open coffin.
Isabel took a few steps toward the head of the casket and took a long look at her husband lying peacefully upon the white satin. She didn’t say anything; she just stared at him for a while.
Carmen Abbate walked through the parlor doors to see her mother staring down into the coffin. The daughter of Isabel and Carmine thought it was quite appropriate for her mother to be right next to her father even as he lay dead. Her mother’s subservience persisted it seemed.
Carmen made her way up the center aisle toward the casket and placed her coat on a chair at the front of the room. She situated her purse on top of the coat and then spotted Vincent Salerno at the entrance. Their eyes met and a polite smile crossed his face. Carmen returned the smile. It’s nice that he came. With a small wave in Vincent’s direction, she turned and walked to where her mother and brother stood.
“I know how tough this is going to be for you, mother.” Anthony was already comforting their mother when Carmen approached. “If you need anything during the ceremony, water, a chair, anything at all, you just tell me.” Isabel nodded.
Carmen agreed, “Yes, mother. Just let us take care of everything.” She placed her hand on her mother’s arm. Isabel looked at her daughter and cocked her head, smiling softly.
“It’s time to begin.” Frank politely interjected. While the family was gathered in front of the casket and comforting each other, the mourners had collected and filled the parlor.
The Abbate siblings each gave their mother a hug and went to their seats in the front row. Frank shook Anthony’s hand and gave Carmen a kiss on the cheek before they sat down. He then went to collect Isabel, still standing in front of the casket.
“My condolences once again, Isabel,” Frank said, facing her.
With that, Isabel’s head snapped up and she quickly scanned the room. The majority of the mourners were busy consoling each other, maneuvering to their seats and not really paying attention to the front of the room just yet. Noticing this, she pulled Frank closer by grabbing his arm and once more glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one could hear. Knowing no one could, and with Frank’s back shielding her from the rest of the room, she squeezed his arm not quite so gently.
“We all know he was a good man, but we all know he wasn’t a saint, either.” From behind the black lace veil, her eyes silently betrayed the softness in her voice. “So, let’s not shed too many tears for poor Isabel’s broken heart, shall we?”
Frank, caught slightly off-guard, took a second to collect his words. “Look, Isabel... Carmine loved you. He did. But, yes, he was not without his faults. He had his indiscretions, sure. But, he sincerely loved you.”
Isabel slowly nodded and closed her eyes. She knew Frank was utterly sincere in his wishes. He always had been a very honorable man. But, she knew some of his darkest secrets, some that even her deceased husband hadn’t known. For him to attend to her and her family was certainly admirable, and to an extent, expected. However, she never once left out the chance that there was a hidden motive to his actions.
“I know he did, Frank. Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”
Frank broke her gaze and nodded. She loosened her grasp on his arm and positioned it so she could hook her own on it. Arm in arm, Frank turned and led Isabel back to her seat.
“Amen.” The entire collection of mourners concluded the prayer in unison. The priest thanked everyone for coming and the service was concluded. Sobs and sniffs were mixed with the pit-pat of the raindrops as they hit the roof of the tent erected over the folding wooden chairs. The mass of black umbrellas surrounding the tent began to dance as their owners slowly mingled among each other and some even began to move away from the gravesite.
Isabel thanked the priest for his kind words and turned back to Frank. As she did, however, she spotted Phil Marella. While it wasn’t uncommon for bosses to attend their rivals’ funerals, Isabel wasn’t exactly expecting Phil’s presence and it gave her pause.
“What the hell is he doing here?...” Isabel questioned, half to herself.
“What was that?” Frank asked.
Not averting her gaze from Phil, she clarified, “What’s the Marella family doing here?” Frank scanned the crowd for the rival boss. “I wonder how long ago they decided to show up...”
Frank offered some assurance, “I doubt they’re here to cause any trouble.” Action at a funeral would certainly make a statement, but would be completely against tradition. Also, the two families hadn’t had much more than the minor territorial scuffle for quite a while.
Slowly gathering her things, and offering the occasional “thank you” to those who expressed condolences, Isabel kept a tab on Phil out of the corner of her eye. I wonder if he’s the one who actually did it?...
Eventually, Phil joined the makeshift line of friends and family who were offering their condolences to Isabel. As he advanced closer and closer, she had already begun playing a verbal chess match in her head.
“Thank you very much.” Isabel said to one of Carmine’s many distant aunts and received a kiss on the cheek. When she pulled her head back level, her eyes met Phil Marella’s. Phil stared right back at her.
“Hello, Isabel,” he said to her. His face held a small, firm-lipped smile that curled up on one side. His eyes held the slightest squint telling Isabel that the smile was neither happy, nor faked.
“Hello, Mr. Marella.” She clasped her hands in front of her body and did not smile back. This is certainly an odd play, Phil, and you’re such a horrible actor. What are you up to? Phil was normally far more predictable, and with a move like this, showed that perhaps there was something he felt he had to demonstrate, if to no one else other than himself. Or, was it that with Carmine out of the way, he felt he could stir the pot a little with some bold moves? Either way, if he wants me to react, he’s going to have to try a lot harder...
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Phil said. The smile never left his face, yet his eyebrows rose in a note of sincerity. He offered his hand to Isabel.
She let her right hand extend out to him. “Thank you, Mr. Marella.”
“Your husband was a good man,” he said as he took her hand and bowed his head. Softly and slowly he kissed her hand and let it fall back to its place in front of her. He stood before her and their eyes remained locked for a few awkward seconds.
Finally, he broke their gaze and turned. The smile disappeared from his face as he addressed Frank. He simply extended his hand and in almost an afterthought, said, “Frank.”
Frank shook his hand and replied equally unemotionally, “Phil.”
With that, Phil looked back at Isabel and his small smile appeared again when he cocked and bowed his head at her. He took a few steps slowly backing away and finally turned to join his lieutenants who had accompanied him to the funeral.
Isabel watched him walk away, still not showing any discernable reaction until he was hidden underneath one of his lieutenants’ umbrellas. She turned to remark to Frank about Phil’s visit yet Frank wasn’t there. She attempted to look for him but was quickly distracted by the condolences offered by another faithful mourner.
The atmosphere in the reception hall was much livelier. The sobs and handkerchiefs were replaced with much warmer smiles and drinks. Snippets of stories could be heard, accompanied with sporadic laughter. Several groups of associates huddled together in corners quietly discussing business while the staff maintained an abundant flow of food and drink for everyone.
Carmen and Anthony kept an eye on their mother a few tables away while they stood at the bar and sipped their drinks.
“Does it seem strange to you that Mother is really pretty calm today?” Carmen asked her brother.
“Nah...” Anthony replied. “Come on, Carmen. She’s been in this family for over 25 years. She’s probably been to a ton of these things. She’s used to it.”
“But, none of them were her husband,” Carmen argued.
“Eh, she’s probably been preparing for this for a long time. I mean, when you’re involved like that, you can’t expect to live forever.”
“Anthony, stop romanticizing,” she teasingly countered. “It’s not like that anymore.” Carmen sipped at her wine while she continued to watch her mother.
Matthew Juliano made his customary entrance. Even at a funeral, Matty had to maintain his reputation. Wearing a designer black suit, and adorned by two buxom females wearing the properly colored dresses with not-so-proper hemlines, Matty kept his “legend”, as he referred to it, in tact. Arm in arm with each girl, the tall, dark haired, classically handsome Matty simply nodded to each person he strutted past. While his entourage never included rocket scientists, his guests knew enough to keep quiet in a setting like this.
Matty deposited his girls at a table and immediately went to look for Frank. As a young associate in the Abbate family, he wasted no time in finding out what the new hierarchy was going to look like. He had a clue what would happen, but he knew the consigliere would be able to give him the real perspective. The more time he could get with Frank, the better off he would be. Everyone knew that Joe was next in line to take over, but Joe was not the strongest or the most capable. With a few bold moves, Matty knew he could advance much more quickly. A weak leader, like Joe, would create the perfect environment for someone with ambition and initiative to move up, even if it called for skirting the customary protocols.
Before he was able to locate Frank, Matty chose to approach his childhood friends, Anthony and Carmen. He gave them each a solemn hug and expressed his sincerest sympathies.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Anthony suddenly said.
Carmen looked at her brother and followed his eyes across the room to see Vincent Salerno near the door folding his coat over his arm.
“That piece of shit!” Anthony continued as he slammed his drink down upon the bar.
“Anthony,” Carmen said, grabbing his arm, “he’s our friend!”
“Bullshit!” he replied, still looking across the room. His face turned red. “He’s YOUR friend.” He told her, not averting his gaze. “He stopped being my friend when he went to work for that fuck, Marella.”
Anthony started twitching and nervously dancing as he stared at the rival enforcer. He was agitated and ready to charge at Vincent regardless of the setting.
Carmen stepped in front of him and faced him. She squeezed his forearm with her hand and sternly told him, “This is not like the movies, Anthony. There’s no conflict here. He’s here to pay his respects and that’s all.”
Anthony looked at her, still wide-eyed and anxious.
“Leave him alone.”
Matty finally assisted Carmen and stepped in front of Anthony. “Hey. Let’s just go get a drink.”
“Fuck that!” Anthony replied, the momentary calmness now gone. “Anthony, calm down. He’s been a friend of this family since we were kids; so don’t start anything here. He just wants to be supportive.”
“No, he’s the enemy.” Anthony said. He cocked his head like he was cracking his neck before a fight, still looking at Vincent.
“He’s not even that involved. Leave him alone,” she commanded.
By now, Vincent had made it half-way across the room and had noticed Matty, Anthony, and Carmen. He slowed his pace, but he was still walking in their direction. He wanted to give Carmen time to calm down Anthony before he got there.
Just as he passed the last table before the bar, he heard Anthony say, “All right, fine.” And, “Come on” to Matty. Vincent watched Anthony grab Matty’s arm to lead him, glaring as they walked away.
Carmen turned to Vincent. She alternated watching the exiting Anthony and Matty and the slowly approaching Vincent to make sure each party kept their distance from the other. There were plenty of eyes trained on the Marella enforcer and too many of those eyes were just as short-tempered as Anthony. So, she wanted to make sure everyone knew Vincent was welcome here.
“Hi Vincent,” Carmen offered once Vincent was close enough. Watching the two men walk away for an extra second before he focused his attention on Carmen, he finally turned to her and smiled. “Hi Carmen,” he said and opened his arms to hug her.
She hugged him back and said, “Thanks for coming.”
“Thank you for keeping Anthony in check,” he replied, releasing the hug. “I was really kind of hoping to avoid that.”
“Yeah, but you know Anthony,” Carmen said looking in the direction of the exiting men.
“Yeah...” Vincent agreed. “I know Anthony.”
Carmen let her hands fall from Vincent’s shoulders down on to his arms while he kept his hands on the small of her back. They both stopped looking at the closing exit door and finally looked at each other. Their eyes locked for a few brief seconds and they gently smiled at each other. Vincent offered his condolences and he hugged her again. After a lengthy embrace, they parted.
“So, how have you been?” he said.
Carmen’s smile broadened and replied, “Good. And you?”
“Good.”
Another brief pause...
“Ready to graduate?” Vincent again tried to crack the silence. “Definitely,” Carmen answered, still looking into his eyes with her hands on his arms.
Yet another brief pause...
Then, almost as if she snapped out of a trance, Carmen said, “Oh, would you like something to drink?” and gestured toward the bar.
“Yes, I would.”
She released his arms and he let one arm fall away from her waist.
“Come on, let’s get you something,” she said. “What is it now? Gin? Or have you moved on to Scotch yet?” she playfully asked.
“No, I’m still a vodka man... For now.” he replied.
And with that, the two old friends went to the bar and began to catch up on old times.
Frank closed the closet door and turned back to look over the vast empty reception hall. The mourners had all gone. The large fluorescent lights were out and only the adjustable recessed lighting was left to highlight the room. Across the hardwood floor, Isabel sat on a bar stool, blankly staring at nothing in particular.
Frank slowly made his way toward her. Even as he approached, her gaze never left that imaginary spot on the floor. Frank wasn’t sure what do to in this instance. He clapped his hands lightly together and pursed his lips as he looked at her, hoping the clap would pop her out of her trance. He stood in place for a few seconds, but got no reaction from her. Not saying anything, he slipped behind the bar and made his way to her.
He put his hands on the bar in his best barman impression and asked her, “Need a drink?”
His voice snapped her out of her silent reverie and she looked over her shoulder, “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I said, ‘need a drink?’”
“Oh god, yes!”
Isabel quickly came to life and whipped herself around on the bar stool. She propped her elbows up on the bar and placed her face in her hands.
“Oooohhhhh...” She groaned. Her hands massaged her face as she spoke, “Hell yes, get me something.”
“Some scotch, maybe?” Frank suggested.
“You read my mind,” was the response from behind her palms.
Frank turned around to find the rocks glasses. He scanned the bar, grabbed two glasses, and then turned to locate the ice bin. Isabel continued to massage her face and eventually just threw her arms out on the bar to let her head collapse onto them.
Still moaning, Isabel said, “I’m sooo glad that’s finally over...”
Frank found the ice, dropped a few cubes in each glass and turned again to find the scotch. Selecting a decent 12 year single malt, he poured a finger into each glass.
He slid one glass toward Isabel and she picked her head up off her arms.
“Thank you, sir” she said pulling her body up to proper posture. Each of them swirled their glasses to get the melting ice to mix with the alcohol. “Would you like to make a toast?” Frank asked.
Isabel paused and looked off into the distance for a second. “...No. This day is over. Let’s not re-live it.”
Frank could only nod in agreement. It was her husband who died. Despite his close relationship as consigliere to Carmine, this was her day to handle as she wished.
“Let’s just say ‘Cheers’” she ordered.
Frank offered an understanding smile and raised his glass. “Cheers, then”. “Cheers” she answered and their glasses clinked together.
Frank sipped the liquor and savored the heavy flavor of the scotch. Isabel, on the other hand, took a sip, and then decided that wasn’t enough; she threw her head back and swallowed until the entire glass was emptied. Frank could only stare in mild shock as he watched the brown liquid empty.
“AHHH!!” Isabel sighed as she placed the glass back on the bar. “That’s good stuff!” she said with a strained voice.
Frank could only muster a faint smile. It felt comforting, yet a little odd that this woman before him could manage a little humor after the week she’d been through.
“Hit me again.” She said, sliding the empty glass back toward Frank. “Should I skip the ice cubes this time?” Frank asked, trying to keep the mood on the lighter side.
“Heh, heh... No, add one more to those wet ones. I’ll take this one much slower,” she answered.
Frank poured another glass and placed it in front of her. She grabbed it off the bar and spun on her stool. “Come back on this side of the bar, Frank.”
Frank obliged the lady. He walked around the end of the bar and scooted the stool next to hers even closer. Isabel sipped at her scotch, looking again at that non-descript spot on the floor.
“Seeing all the people here, all the family and friends he had - he was a good man, wasn’t he?” she absently asked.
Frank spun his stool to face the bar. “Yes he was.”
“And yet, he was a bastard...” she retorted.
“...Yes he was...” was all Frank could offer in return.
“I’m still going to miss him.”
“We all are, Isabel.”
Silence filled the room for what seemed like an eternity. Each of them slowly sipped their drinks with only the faint clinks of ice breaking the air.
Suddenly, Frank felt Isabel’s head softly land on his shoulder. He turned slightly to see her head resting on him. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he did only what came naturally. He reached across his body with his left hand and gently stroked her hair once... twice... then stopped. She didn’t make a move when he touched her, so he wasn’t sure what to do next.
He placed his hand on the side of her head, pressed it lightly into his shoulder and lowered his head to hers to give it a gentle kiss.
Still not getting any response, he simply let his head fall against hers. There they sat for a few moments.
Frank felt Isabel move her arm to bring the drink to her lips. As she sipped he thought, Okay. This is nothing. Just be there for her. So, he followed suit and took a drink himself.
They maintained this scene for several minutes, each of them quietly sipping their drinks while Isabel rested her head on Frank’s shoulder. Isabel had the same far-off stare that she’d had for the better part of an hour. Frank just looked over the bottles and glassware in front of him at the bar. Occasionally, he’d peer through the bottles on the shelves to piece together the image they were projecting in the bar’s mirror. He could see Isabel’s long, dark hair falling next to his arm, the exposed skin of the top of her back, and then the black fabric of her dress hugging her just under her shoulders...
Frank diverted his eyes back to the various corners of the bar and took a big slug of his drink.
Suddenly, the door to the kitchen opened and one of the last workers walked through it carrying a trash bag. Frank raised his glass and nodded at the man. The man nodded back and dropped the bag next to the wastebasket at the end of the bar. He quickly lifted the bag from the tall basket and deposited it next to the bag he brought through the door.
Frank sipped his drink again and then looked questioningly at the back of the head that still rested on his shoulder. Isabel hadn’t moved other than to sip at her scotch. The worker dutifully replaced the trash bag in the wastebasket, collected both of the full bags and went back through the swinging door into the kitchen.
Frank felt Isabel’s head lift from his shoulder. She sat straight up and downed the rest of her drink.
Reaching back behind her and not turning to face Frank, she placed her empty glass on the bar. “Come on,” she said as she stood up off her stool.
Frank turned to see her starting to walk off. He quickly downed the rest of his drink and hopped off his stool.
“Bring the glasses and the scotch,” she called out, still not turning her head, and walked toward the side doors.
Frank stopped in his tracks, spun and quickly shuffled behind the bar. He grabbed the scotch in one hand, reached over the bar and pinched both glasses in his other hand before following her. She had collected her coat and purse from a chair near the exit and upon reaching the doors, pushed them open decisively. Frank followed, walking as quickly as he could.
Isabel’s limousine was parked on the street and as she strode toward it, the chauffer quickly hopped out of the driver’s seat. He rushed to the other side of the car attempting to beat her to the door.
Still walking, Isabel had her purse in front of her and was reaching into it when the chauffer slid to a stop right in front of her, his hand grasped the handle of the door.
Pulling out a few bills, she handed them to the driver. “Here. Take this,” she told him. “There’s a bar around the corner and down the block. Buy a few rounds for the bar and make a few friends. Come back in about an hour.”
The chauffer looked quizzically at Isabel, but his hand filled quickly with $100s when Frank quickly ducked through the open door behind Isabel. The driver felt the door shift under his hand and excitedly stuffed the money into his pockets. “Yes, ma’am!” he exclaimed as he shut the door behind Frank.
Inside the car, Frank was trying to situate himself on the fine leather seat when Isabel reached from the opposite seat just behind the driver’s seat to grab her glass. She popped open the bar along the side of the limo and jammed a few ice cubes in her glass.
Frank, finally set, noticed Isabel was ready for a re-fill so he hurriedly pulled the cork from the bottle and poured her a fresh drink.
Isabel fell back into her seat and took a healthy pull from her new drink.
Frank wanted desperately to know what was running through her head, but thought better of quizzing her right now. Instead, he simply reached for the ice and filled his own glass, followed by the scotch.
Isabel, after a few more sips of her drink, kicked off her black heels. She flexed and stretched her toes which were finally free from the shoes.
Looking off at something outside the window, she asked, “Frank, you’ve always been like that, haven’t you?”
Puzzled, Frank responded, “Like what?”
“You’ve always been very understanding and knowledgeable, right?”
Still perplexed, Frank slowly answered, “It is a prerequisite in my position.”
“You knew Carmine and I had our problems for a long time,” she said, half to herself, still staring out the window.
“Well... Yeah. But, everyone has their ups and downs.”
“No. I mean, you knew Carmine was sleeping around and you knew I wasn’t exactly faithful to him, either,” she continued. “You’ve always known.”
“Uhm... Sure. But, like I said, everyone has their problems. No one’s perfect.”
Isabel finally turned to look at Frank. She looked into his eyes and slowly took a sip of her drink. Lowering the glass, she asked, “What about me, Frank? Don’t you think I’m perfect?”
Frank froze in her gaze. Not sure how to answer the question as a million thoughts ran through his head. He couldn’t muster anything other than a barely audible, “Uhhh...”
Frank felt the pressure of the moment and thought to himself, “What the hell is wrong with you?” He was completely confused with not only her question, but his response. He’d carried out several illegal acts while working with Carmine and he never held back his opinion as Carmine’s consigliere. But, his friend’s wife putting him on the spot had him frozen in his seat.
“How about it, Frank?” she asked again. “Don’t you think I’m perfect?”
Another barely audible utterance from his mouth and Isabel gracefully slid across the limo to the seat next to his. She crossed her legs and leaned toward him, repeating her query softly, “How about it, Frank?”
Frank’s jaw had gone slack. A highly respected figure in one of the most powerful crime families yet here he was essentially paralyzed in the back of this limousine.
Isabel took one more sip from her glass and placed it on the ledge in front of the back window. She rested her elbow on Frank’s shoulder and leaned her head back into her hand.
“Come on, Frank. You still find me attractive, don’t you?”
Finally being given a question that was easily answered, Frank quickly replied, “Of course I do, Isabel.”
Encouraged by his words, Isabel put her hand behind Frank’s head and scooted even closer to him. “I’m glad you think so, Frank,” she said. Her left hand suddenly appeared on Frank’s thigh.
Frank was still a bit confused. This wasn’t at all what he had been expecting from Isabel. She hadn’t cracked a smile since she sat at the bar. There wasn’t a look of seduction on her face at all. It was just the face of a beautiful, but tired woman who was quietly determined to get some sort of answer from him.
Her hand squeezed his thigh gently and her face slowly approached his.
Frank even more slowly lowered his head to hers, still confused about what was going on.
“I needed to hear that,” she softly said before she pressed their lips together.
Frank felt her lips on his but was slow to respond. She opened her lips slightly and kissed him gently. Her hand behind his head pulled him firmly to her mouth. A few soft, slow kisses and he finally reciprocated.
Frank opened his mouth and kissed her back. She felt his surrender and she let her tongue slip cautiously through her lips.
He felt the moisture of her tongue on his lips and slid his out to meet hers. Feeling his tongue touch hers, she pressed it past his lips into his mouth. Their tongues sought each other as their embrace quickly intensified.
She pulled his face into hers and her hand moved up his leg to his stomach. She slowly began to claw at his shirt as they kissed.
Frank felt her hand in front of him and finally gave in to the situation. He dropped his glass on the floor and turned to face her, not breaking their kiss. His left hand felt for her thigh and he reached across his body to pull at her shoulder.
Isabel felt him turn in front of her and slid her hand under his jacket to pull him closer to her. With that, Frank turned even further and pulled his left hand from between them and slipped it between Isabel and the seat. He felt the fabric of her dress under his fingers as he pulled at her body.
Their kissing became faster and more heated as their hands roamed over each other’s clothes. Isabel slid her left hand up to Frank’s chest and began to lift the jacket over his shoulder.
Suddenly, Frank had a flash of sobriety. He grasped Isabel’s arm and pushed her back, breaking their kiss.
“Should we be doing this?” he asked, almost breathlessly.
Isabel paused for only a brief moment and responded, “I need this.” She closed her eyes and pressed back into him.
Frank didn’t offer much resistance. Once Isabel’s lips hit his again, he surrendered to her. They kissed passionately and their hands became even more determined in their tasks.
Isabel slid Frank’s jacket from his shoulder and pulled at him with her hand on the top of his back. Frank leaned away from the seat and pulled his arms from his jacket, first one, then the other.
Isabel let him shed the suit coat while she moved even closer to him. Her left leg was crossed over her right with her thigh on his. Her right hand had moved up to the back of his neck and was keeping their heads planted firmly together.
Free of the jacket, Frank’s hands returned to Isabel. He wrapped her up and pulled her close as they continued their kiss. His hands roamed all over her back, up to her neck, down to her lower back. His left hand slid up her spine and found the zipper to her dress. When he felt it, Isabel grasped the hair on the back of his head. He interpreted this as encouragement and pulled the zipper down her back.
The gown loosened from her body and when Frank’s hands rose up her back, she pulled away from him, withdrew her hands from his body and let him pull the dress down over her shoulders and arms.
The light from the street lamps was filtered by the tinted glass of the limo, but Frank could still make out the shapely figure of Isabel’s breasts when her dress fell from her chest. Isabel may have been 44 years old, but she maintained her figure quite well. She wasn’t the stereotypical “mob wife”. Her figure was a source of pride to her, something she worked hard to maintain. Her black lace bra held her breasts impressively before her and Frank could feel her soft skin beneath his fingers.
Free from her dress, Isabel didn’t waste any time removing the rest of her clothing. As Frank gazed upon her, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. The bra straps fell loose on her shoulders and since Frank was still nearly gawking, she leaned forward to let the bra drop to the floor of the car.
Frank could only stare at Isabel’s naked chest. Her breasts had maintained their firmness beautifully through the years. Now, they were completely exposed to Frank and he initially didn’t know what to do.
Isabel enjoyed the reaction she had caused, but she wasn’t particularly interested in reveling in it. She lunged at Frank and attacked him before he came around. She thrust her tongue into his mouth before his hands even had a chance to feel her naked body.
Frank quickly recovered and matched Isabel’s intensity. He returned her kisses and wrapped her up in his arms. Her naked skin felt incredible under his hands. It didn’t take him long to make those hands wander down her back. Her dress had collected at her waist, but offered no resistance as Frank slid his hands beneath it. He felt the fabric of her underwear causing him to imagine a black lace, boy-short kind of garment. He thrust his hands deeper and felt the curve of her ass.
Isabel felt Frank’s hands on her ass and pressed her body closer to him. As he squeezed, she let out a soft moan. She loved it when her ass was touched. But, she wasn’t really looking for a great deal of foreplay. She wanted him inside of her, the closeness, the feeling of being wanted and the fulfillment of that desire. She wasn’t going to wait on Frank to help her with his clothes. She pulled roughly at his tie and he got the message.
After the second firm tug at his neck, he went to work on his shirt. He started to unbutton it, but Isabel kept up the pressure. She pulled the tie up and over Frank’s head. Seeing that Frank’s hands were occupied, she attended to his belt. With deft fingers, she undid the belt and yanked it free from the loops. Tossing it aside, she then continued with his pants. Again, with quick work, she loosed his pants and started pulling at them. She moved off the seat and got on her knees on the floor of the limo. Frank, still not done with his shirt, shifted in his seat and bowed his hips off the seat allowing Isabel to pull both his pants and underwear down at the same time.
Frank sat back down feeling the leather on his bare buttocks. Isabel behaved like a woman possessed. Frank’s pants caught on his feet since he still wore his shoes. She swiftly yanked them free and tossed them to the opposite end of the limo. Then, pulling on each pant leg, she removed his pants completely. Placing her hands on his bare legs, she looked at Frank’s nearly naked body. The lean, muscular legs under her fingers led to a well-maintained stomach with only a hint of middle-age spread. Frank lacked the larger chest and arms normally found in mafia men, but he still didn’t quite fit the lawyer/accountant stereotype. He had more of an athlete’s build, and combined with his smart haircut, Frank looked years younger than his true age.
Before Frank could finish unbuttoning his shirt, he felt the warm, soft touch of Isabel’s lips on his semi-erect penis. Isabel wasted no time and immediately took his cock into her mouth. Frank threw his head back as he felt her hot, wet mouth suck on him. He looked down and saw the dimly lit image of a bare back and long brown hair in his lap. Her head slowly began moving up and down on his erection and he could feel himself become more and more engorged. She brought a hand up to her mouth, wrapped it around his shaft and sucked incredibly strongly. Frank moaned loudly.
He became increasingly hard and she took advantage by bobbing her head up and down his cock. He slid in and out of her mouth easily. Quickly, Frank pulled his arms out of his sleeves, threw the shirt, and yanked his t-shirt off in a rush. Finally naked, he put his hands on Isabel’s head feeling the softness of her hair.
He was enjoying the sensation, but it was far too brief. Isabel, satisfied that she had sufficiently aroused Frank, let him slip from her mouth and she stood over him as best she could in the limousine. Bent over at the waist, her head and back pressed against the roof, she hooked her thumbs into her panties and started to shimmy out of them. She took the rest of her dress with her.
Frank tried his best to keep his hands on her as she stood, attempting to kiss her and caress her skin while she moved.
Finally naked, Isabel put her hands on his shoulders and steadied herself while she straddled him. She put her knees on either side of his legs and sat on his thighs. One hand was placed on the back of his head, the other went down to his cock. She stroked him firmly while kissing him deeply.
Through all of this, Frank had a feeling as though he was caught up in a whirlwind and thus, always a step too slow. But, he felt as though he had finally caught up when Isabel suddenly slowed. She pulled back from their kiss and raised her body in front of his. With her left hand on his shoulder, she steadied herself and with her right, she positioned his erection directly underneath her.
Frank felt Isabel’s moisture and soft lips with the tip of his cock. Her hand firmly on his shaft, she slowly slid it back and forth along her very wet pussy. She was literally dripping with excitement and it was coating Frank’s member.
Finally, she stopped, and held Frank squarely at her opening. She looked straight into his eyes for a few seconds. Frank just stared back at her, still a glint of doubt hanging in his mind. She squeezed him at his base and barely inched herself down onto him.
Frank felt his penis penetrate Isabel; and he slipped into her easily. She continued down his shaft until he was buried completely within her. Isabel threw her head back and Frank moaned as he filled her.
Isabel enjoyed the sensation for a few seconds. Finally, she felt something other than the horrible mix of emotions she felt through the past week. She was proud of the fact that she obviously turned Frank on this much. She renewed her feeling of sexiness as his pulsing cock filled her. And to be completely honest, she enjoyed the act of having sex. As she started to raise and lower herself on Frank’s erection, she simply enjoyed the feeling of being naked, the feeling of having a man inside of her and pride that she could elicit the reaction she was getting from Frank.
Frank felt himself slide in and out of Isabel as she rode on top of him. He put his hands and mouth to her breasts. He cupped and then squeezed them while she continued to ride him. His lips found one of her nipples and he drew it into his mouth.
Isabel wrapped her hands around his head and held his face against her chest. Frank’s hands slid down her torso and wrapped around her back. Isabel started to bounce up and down on him. He continued to kiss and lick her bare breasts since he couldn’t keep up with her fucking.
And she was fucking him now. She placed her hands on the back of the seat behind Frank and forcibly thrust herself onto him with each down stroke. With her pace picking up and her force increasing, Frank lifted his hips slightly to allow her better access to his erection. He then placed his hands on her hips and pulled her down upon him in concert with her gyrations.
She bounced on top of Frank in an animalistic rhythm. She could feel the car gently bounce along with them. She didn’t care. Her needs were being fulfilled.
When Frank’s fingers dug into her hips, she could sense that he was getting ready to come. Another jolt of pride shot through her knowing that she wasn’t even close to an orgasm, yet her partner was almost over the top. A nearly imperceptible smile crossed her lips and she continued to ride him harder and faster.
Frank stopped trying to play with her breasts and just let his head fall back against the seat; his orgasm began to build. He started to moan while Isabel egged him on, “Oh yeah, Frank. Come for me. Come in me. Come in me, now.”
When he heard her innocent sounding commands he simply couldn’t hold out any longer. He grunted and roughly pulled her down onto him. His body convulsed, his hips thrust up into her pinned body and he grunted aloud. His cum shot inside of her as he held her in place. She milked his erection with her pussy and ground her hips against his as best she could under his strong arms and hands.
He shuddered as the orgasm came to an end and he loosed his hold on her hips. She took her hands off the seat and wrapped Frank’s head with them, pulling his head to her chest. He was still inside of her as they sat there in the after-glow, his erection slowly subsiding.
They both tried to catch their breath and simply sat hugging each other. As much as Frank had always longed for a replay of their tryst long ago, he still felt uncomfortable with what they had just done. He felt the best he could do now was to hold her and give her comfort. ...All Isabel could think now was: How much longer before the limo driver comes back?