Chapter 3
You Know How It Works, Don’t You

THE INTENSIVE CARE UNIT at Singing River Hospital had strict visiting hours; however, benefactors like the Incanto family, could visit Big Luke at any time, which worked out well for Lucy because she wanted her time with her papa to be solitary. She didn’t want The Guag or her Uncle Leo or any of the capos there to see the tears welling in her eyes as she stared at the only man she’d ever loved. Her love for her father had no conditions, no limitations, no expectations. She knew it would be different when she actually fell in love with a man. That would be a partnership. This was different.

Her papa loved her as no man would ever love her. Completely. That brought the tears and the deep pain in her heart as she saw the man, who was larger than life to her, lying on his deathbed. It was different when her mother died, suddenly, when Lucy was at Dartmouth. This death lingered.

She wiped the tears away, stood and moved to her father, patting his hair as she leaned close and told him all the things she wished she’d said when he could still hear her, when he would have looked back with those green Sicilian eyes and understood. Maybe he could still hear her. Sometimes, he seemed to react, to shudder, ever so slightly when she whispered in his ear that this was his Lucy and how she loved him and how he was a great father and she would sometimes recite an episode from her life for him, letting him relive it with her, if he could hear.

Lucy stayed as long as she could stand it, then left, her heels clapping down the tile hall of the antiseptic hospital. Two days since her appointment with Joseph “Ox” Cavalcare, she’d received an additional four dozen roses. She sent him a note to stop. Roses smelled like funeral homes.

Joe Perito sent her a CD, Sadé’s Greatest Hits, with a one-word note – Ricordare – “remember” in Italian. A real charmer, Joe Perito was getting under her skin and that she didn’t want. This was a business proposition with sex on the side. No love. He had to know what she was up to, why was he trying so hard by not trying hard.

Louie Something and Eddie “Big Nose” met her at the hospital entrance and followed her in the Cadillac. Lucy drove her own car today. It was new and smelled new. She’d wanted something different and searched until she found the Peugeot 607 Feline, a very dark Vulcan red in colour. She had no idea how much horsepower but it had a zooming V6 engine, a silky smooth ride, and “Bluetooth”, the voice activated option that activated the phone and the computer screen’s GPS satellite mapping system. On the practical side, it came with ultrasonic sensors in the front and rear bumpers that activated a warning buzzer if she got too close to objects when parking. Lucy had trouble parallel-parking.

She had no trouble parking beneath the Incanto Family’s office building. The architectural term that described the two-storey building was a batwing, more common to southern California, usually for apartments with tenants parking in the open area beneath. On stilts, the building was high enough to protect it from flooding. One of the few buildings along the Pass Christian beachfront that had survived every hurricane since it was built in 1922; it was painted pale yellow and featured a state-of-the-art protective fence around it, access through an electronic gate, and video cameras. The suites on the lower floor, above the parking area, were occupied by The Guag and his men, which included Louie Something and “Big Nose”. Big Luke’s office as well as a secretary’s office and a large conference room occupied the top floor.

The Guag was waiting for Lucy outside her papa’s office, now her office. He rose when she came out of the elevator and followed her in. She stopped immediately and called out to her father’s secretary, another cousin on her mother’s side, Donna Imperiolito.

‘Didn’t I say no more roses?’

Donnas stepped in and gave her a knowing smile. Nineteen, just out of Pass Christian High School, Donna worked part-time, taking summer classes at Jefferson Davis Business College, trying to learn how to run the Macintosh on her desk. Rail thin, even thinner than Lucy was when she was in grammar school, Donna was pretty with two-tone hair, part natural brown, part fuchsia.

Lucy waited, hand on her hip.

Donna shrugged. ‘He’s so persistent. I think he’s cute.’

Lucy turned to The Guag. ‘How did it get past your men?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s flowers.’

Lucy told Donna, ‘Take them home with you. It smells like a funeral parlour around here.’

The Guag took a seat in front of the desk while Lucy checked herself out in the full length mirror. She wore a knee-length, black wrap skirt today, full, not as obvious that it opened all the way in front, and a sleeveless red blouse with a high collar. She’d pinned her hair up on the sides with barrettes again and wore red lipstick today.

‘I saw your papa earlier and reminded the new doctor about the do-not-resuscitate order. He says Big Luke is slipping. His organs are shutting down.’ The Guag spoke softly as if that would cushion the words.

Lucy had already spoken to the doctor but said nothing to The Guag’s statement.

‘What about this Al Racconto?’ she changed the subject. ‘Kansas City, right?’

The Guag pulled out his note pad. The black suit he wore wasn’t double-breasted for a change. ‘OK, today we have Al “The Thrill” Racconto, another capo. His uncle is the Don. He’s very good with the business side of the Racconto family, runs most of their legitimate holdings.

Lucy didn’t want to think about her father and was glad The Guag started reciting from his notebook. She didn’t listen too carefully. She’d memorised the data on “The Thrill”. She wondered what tonight would be like. The sex had been so good so far. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d never had so much sex in such a short period and all it did was make her crave more. Maybe she had a touch of nymphomania? Or maybe, it was the touch of the Goddess of Desire.

The word ‘Dartmouth’ brought Lucy back.

‘What was that?’ she asked The Guag as she moved around the desk to sit in the captain’s chair.

‘I never saw your papa’s face beam as proudly as the day we watched you cross that stage and get your diploma. The first person in the entire family to graduate from college. An Ivy League school to boot. All your papa talked about on the flight up and back was your degree in Finance, magna cum laude. Minor in Economics, you’re a natural to run the business side of the family business.’

The Guag could probably recite my grade point average.

‘Did any of these “candidates” go to college?’ She’d had little, if any, small talk with either of the first two.

‘They all went to college,’ The Guag answered. ‘None of them finished.’ The Guag rolled his eyes. ‘Actually “The Thrill” lasted two years at UCLA. More than the others.’ He closed his notebook. ‘We don’t want them for their brains.’ He stood. ‘That’s what we have you for.’ Big smile on his way out.

Jesus H. Christ. Lucy stepped over to the window and opened it, peeping through the screen at the beach and water. A wasp-figured woman with platinum blonde hair was modelling for a man with a Polaroid camera. Her laughter echoed above the sound of the surf. They didn’t seem to care who watched them camping it up. She looked like a woman from a Fellini movie.

For a moment Lucy was reminded of another Fellini movie. She couldn’t remember the title but it was about a not-so-glamorous woman who had vigore nasosto, brio nascosto – hidden vigour, hidden liveliness. The liveliness came out when the woman learned to have fun with several different men. The vigour was sexual. Lucy laughed at herself. She had hidden vigour, all right. Only it wasn’t hidden anymore.

When Al “The Thrill” Racconto stepped in, another six footer with dark brown hair and brown eyes, Lucy could only think, this one has a scar. A two inch scar marred The Thrill’s Robert Redford-like square jaw-line, but it gave his pretty-boy face some character, some depth. She liked the scar immediately and the polite way Al bowed his head when he asked if he could sit.

Is he really this shy, or is it put-on?

He stared at her with unblinking eyes, but it wasn’t a stare-down. He seemed surprised.

‘Something wrong?’

‘No. I want to thank you for calling me in for this second interview.’

‘Second?’

‘I must have passed Mr Guagliardo’s first interview.’

‘Oh.’

He looked furtively into her eyes and she noticed how big and expressive his eyes were. Eyelashes any woman would envy. He looked away, at the window behind her now. He cleared his throat and said, ‘You’re not what I pictured.’

‘What did you picture?’

‘Well … I thought you’d be ugly, funny-smelling with a big nose, hair-lip, maybe a mole the size of Rhode Island or just a hunchback. That’s why you had to search for a mate. But, heck, you could have any man you wanted no matter how rich you were.’ He got up and then sat right back down, thumbing the chair’s arms nervously. ‘Any Sicilian man.’

‘Funny-smelling?’

‘You never know.’

Lucy got up and went around the desk, positioning herself between him and the desk. She put her hands on the chair’s arms and leaned forward, brushing her long hair against his face. ‘Do I smell funny?’

‘Oh, no! You smell nice.’

She stood up. ‘I should. I’ll have you know I’m freshly showered. I shower every day and the perfume is Venetian. Direct from Venice. Parisians aren’t the only ones who know how to make perfume.’

His smile was shy and Lucy wondered, so she asked, ‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-four. I tried growing a moustache to look older but it looked like soot.’

Lucy leaned back against the desk and crossed her ankles. The skirt was too full to open by itself, so she had to help it by reaching down to pull up her right stocking, the skirt opening nicely.

‘These things tend to work their way down,’ she said, casually pulling it up all the way to her white panties. She did the left one next and looked up to see Al staring at her crotch. She felt a tingle as her heartbeat increased.

‘I thought we’d have dinner,’ she said, sitting up on the desk now, opening her skirt to her waist.

He tried not to look for a moment, then just looked and grinned. ‘Dinner? Sure. Anything.’

‘Where are you staying?’

‘The Bleu Marine.’

Lucy leaned back on the desk and let him get another long look before climbing down. He reached to help her, touching her hand but let go as she needed no help. He stood and seemed nervous.

‘Um, is Ames Skye close to here?’

‘Not far at all. Between DeLisle and Kiln.’ She went back to the captain’s chair and sat. ‘I haven’t been there since I was a little girl.’ A memory of the Ames Skye Amusement Park flashed in her mind. She’d heard it was renovated a few years ago, with the addition of a water park, probably just a big pool. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I went there when I was six. That’s how I got my nickname.’

‘The Thrill?’

‘I wouldn’t get off the roller coaster. They had to pry my hands off the bar. My mom gave me the nickname.’

Lucy laughed a little too loudly and closed her mouth right away.

‘I guess it is kinda funny.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I was laughing at myself. I thought ‘The Thrill’ meant something else entirely.’

‘Most people do. But that’s as thrilling as I get.’ Again the humble look, hands in the pockets now.

‘Why don’t we go?’

‘To the Skye?’

‘I’ll pick you up at three and we’ll spend the afternoon there and have dinner after.’

‘Sure. It’s a date.’ Al “The Thrill” Racconto slipped out of the office and John “The Guag” slipped in.

‘So, how’d you like “The Thrill”?’

‘Know how he got that nickname?’

‘No, actually.’ The Guag sat and looked at her curiously.

‘As you can guess, a woman gave him that moniker.’

‘Womaniser, huh? That might not be good.’

Lucy kept her face deadpan. ‘I can handle it.’

The Guag gave her a long stare before he said, ‘Actually, that might not be bad. You don’t have to fall madly in love with a guy who’ll run around on you. Keep it business.’ When Lucy didn’t chuckle with him, he added, ‘At least you know he’s not gay.’

Where did that come from?

‘He doesn’t look … tough.’

‘What about the scar?’

‘I hear it happened at an amusement park when he was a kid.’

Lucy laughed loudly, which made The Guag join in, albeit a little confused.

Al ‘The Thrill’ bought a pair of light-weight white slacks, a tan linen shirt and white canvas tennis shoes in the mall attached to the casino. A new pair of extra dark Ran Ban sunglasses completed the outfit. He ran some styling gel through his hair to keep it from being so fly-away and looked in the mirror and saw Andy Garcia. Well, not as good looking but not bad.

At ten to three, he stepped outside the front entrance of the casino’s hotel and was immediately greeted by the double-digit humidity to go along with the 98 degree temperature. Kansas City had heat waves, but never like this. He stepped back into the hotel and stood just inside the glass doors so he wouldn’t be all sweaty when Lucy arrived.

At exactly three, a black Cadillac with blacked-out windows pulled up. A huge man with blue-black skin stepped out of the front passenger side, came straight to the door, which was opened by a doorman, turned and said, ‘Mr Racconto?’

‘Call me Al.’

‘I’m Earl. Miss Incanto’s in the car.’

Earl opened the back door for him and Al slid in next to Lucy Incanto sitting in a white sleeveless blouse with a high collar, the top two buttons of the blouse undone, and a short pink skirt, white sandals. When she leaned over to reach into a small refrigerator, he got a peek of her white panties, different than the ones she’d worn earlier, these had sheer panels between white panels. He cock stiffened immediately.

Lucy pulled two bottles of spring water from the fridge and passed him one.

‘Don’t want to get dehydrated in the heat at the Skye.’

Al opened his bottle and took a hit of the chilled water. Tiny slices of ice cooled his throat immediately and the car’s AC helped.

Leaning back with her legs crossed now, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, Lucy said, ‘So how did you get the scar?’

‘Picket fence. I was nine. Tried to climb it in the rain, slipped. Everyone’s been after me ever since to get plastic surgery. I’m not that vain, I guess.’

‘I like it,’ she said. ‘You’re too good-looking not to have it.’

That seemed to make sense. At least she thought he was good looking and not too pretty, which plagued him when he was young. Since he started shaving and his face filled out a little, he lost some of that pretty-boy look.

The Cadillac turned off Highway 90, which ran next to the gulf, into the piney woods common to south Mississippi. They passed tourist stores, piles of conch shells outside, alligator skins tacked to plywood, couple stuffed raccoons.

Al turned back to Lucy. ‘When I was little some of the boys called me raccoon, thinking that’s what my name meant in Italian.’

‘Racconto means ‘story’ doesn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’

Neither had to mention the obvious – there were no raccoons in Italy.

‘That’s how Cat Island got its name,’ Lucy said as the Cadillac continued through more piney woods.

‘Cat Island?’

‘One of our barrier islands, about a mile off the coast. Back in the 1700s, a British ship passed it and the sailors saw it overrun by these grey cats with striped tails and named the island.’

They crossed a river named Wolf and within sight of I-10, the Ames Skye Amusement Park loomed on their left. It looked smaller and older when they parked the Caddy in a shell lot with only a dozen vehicles, pick-ups mostly.

Stepping into the bright sunshine, Al put his sunglasses back on as Lucy donned a pair of retro cat-eyed sunglasses. Her bodyguards, which Al noted were twins, or should be, wore reflective, standard-issue, gangster glasses and identical white polo shirts worn out over black pants, probably to conceal their handguns. Al was unarmed, deferring to the Incantos protection while in Mississippi.

One of the bodyguards paid for all four and they passed through a wooden archway with ‘Ames Skye Amusements’ in lights above. The strong smell of pine faded, replaced by the scent of mildew and hot dogs bubbling in a cauldron on the left, manned by a woman with few teeth in her mouth, smiling at Al to show him. By the time they reached the roller coaster, Al’s face dripped perspiration and the back of his shirt was already stuck to his skin. Lucy didn’t seem to perspire. The faces of her bodyguards were glossy in the heat.

‘Kinda dead, isn’t it?’ said Al.

‘I’m sure it picks up after dark when it’s cooler.’ Lucy looked around, catching the eye of several roustabouts who seemed to like what they were gawking at. A pair of young rednecks, in their early twenties but acting like horny-teenagers, checked Lucy out in her short skirt as Al followed her up the ramp of the roller coaster, called the Johnny Psycho. Al could see her panties as they went up and so could the rednecks, who hurried to sit in the front seat, Lucy and Al in the seat behind. Lucy’s skirt rose as the bar went down over their laps. The men in front glanced back as the coaster started.

Johnny Psycho wasn’t the biggest coaster, and the wooden railing, besides needing a new coat of paint, seemed a little shaky, which added to the excitement as the coaster crawled up to the first and tallest rise. It was steep and as tall as the Ferris wheel and when Al was little, seemed like he was atop the Empire State building. Hovering momentarily at the apex, Al saw they were above the tree line of the piney woods, then in a blur they barrelled downhill at a breath-taking speed. The rednecks let go of the bar. Lucy’s skirt flew past her waist and Al felt his cock pressed hard against the rail, sending a stabbing pain through him. He had to adjust as the rednecks turned around to get a good look at Lucy’s panties. Al could see her dark pubic hair through the sheer panels of the panties, which made his cock throb. Lucy glanced down and laughed over the thunder of the roller coaster.

‘Wanna go again?’ she asked as Johnny Psycho eased to a stop to allow a family to climb in behind them. The elderly roustabout who ran the roller coaster came to check everyone’s roller-bar. Lucy hadn’t bothered to push down her skirt and he got an eye full, smiling widely as he reminded them it was pay-one-price at the Skye and they could ride the coaster until they passed out.

They rode it three more times, Lucy’s skirt never going down, the rednecks, the roustabout and Al getting a good view before she led Al over to the Ferris wheel, which rose slowly, creeping along. She draped a leg over his as they went up, sending a shudder though his cock.

‘Enjoying the view?’

He looked at the canopy of trees and she laughed.

‘Not them. My panties.’

‘Everyone is.’

‘Good. That’s the idea.’ She leaned over and brushed his lips with hers. He slipped his hand to her thigh and she opened her legs slightly. Up and down went the Ferris wheel, Al massaging Lucy’s pussy through her panties, pulling his hand away as they neared the ground, returning it as their rose into the air.

‘This is nice,’ she purred. Her panties were wet by the time they climbed off.

‘I noticed a water park of sorts,’ she said as she led him away.

He noticed the rednecks were trailing, having picked up a couple young black men along the way. Lucy’s bodyguards followed, both looking around seriously. A breath of damp air washed over Al as they moved around a kiddy ride toward a large pool with a faux water fall and two big water slides. The pool was at the back end of the property with woods beyond a hurricane fence. Two families were in the pool, several kids going up and down the two slides.

Lucy stepped out of her sandals and sat at the pool’s edge, her legs in the water as she said, ‘That’s better.’

Al pulled off his shoes and socks and started to roll up his pants legs.

Lucy looked over her shoulder and said, ‘Let’s get bathing suits.’ She scooped up her sandals and took Al’s hand, leading them to a shop attached to a café, of sorts. It was a small enclosure with clothing hanging on the walls, T-shirts mostly and some bathing suits.

‘Is there a dressing room?’ Lucy asked the attendant, a heavy-set woman reading a glamour magazine. The woman pointed to the right without looking up. It was a closet. Lucy took a yellow two piece in and a white one piece, coming out a few minutes later shaking her head.

Al found a black bathing suit, boxer shorts style, that fit him well.

Lucy had no luck. None of the suits fitted and she finally settled on a T-shirt. The first was too big, the second, white with Troy University stencilled in dark red over her right breast, didn’t quite cover her panties. He noticed she still had her bra on beneath it as he went to pay and found the bodyguards had already paid.

‘Don’t want it to look like a wet T-shirt contest, with kids out there.’ Lucy readjusted her sunglasses before taking his hand as they moved back to the pool, bodyguards and Lucy’s fans in tow.

Al looked back at the four fans and told Lucy, ‘They’re enjoying the view.’ The bottom of her ass peeked out from under the T-shirt.

‘If they haven’t seen panties before, then let 'em gape.’

The boys gaped and so did the lone man left in the pool after the other family with the kids left. Lucy slipped into the pool, sunglasses still on, and went under. Al joined her, glad he hadn’t bought a Speedo bathing suit with his cock as thick as an angry snake now. The pool was unoccupied. They swam to the shallow area as the rednecks, down to their shorts, started going down the slide.

‘Looks like fun,’ Lucy said, climbing out of the pool. Facing Al still in the water, she brushed her hair from her face, the T-shirt rising to show most of the front of her panties which were completely sheer now they were wet. Her bush visible, she turned and showed the crack of her fine ass as she went to ascend the steps up the slide. Her four fans hurried to follow her up, one of them turning back to nod to the others who could plainly see Lucy’s ass as she went up.

She came down with the men in tow and swam to Al.

‘Enough of that,’ she said, standing in the shallow water now, lifting her T-shirt to show a red spot on the back of her left thigh. ‘Slide pinched me.’ She moved to the side and stood in knee high water, arms up on the sides of the pool, most of her panties visible. Al moved next to her as all four fans passed to get a closer view.

Several of the roustabouts came by to get a look as Lucy would dip into the pool, then stand up. She tapped Al’s arm and said, ‘How about something cool to drink?’

By the time he came back with two bottles of icy spring water, the four fans and two of the older roustabouts were around Lucy, fans in the water, men sitting behind her as she stood wringing out her T-shirt.

‘I’m not taking them off,’ Lucy said as Al handed her a water and slipped into the pool next to her. She thanked him, took a drink of water then told the fans, ‘I’ll take off this heavy T-shirt but nothing else.’ She pulled off the T and tossed it back to one of her bodyguards who took it to where the other sat on a deck chair. Her wet bra hid little of her breasts, pointed nipples and pink aureoles.

‘If you haven’t seen a lady in her bra and panties, then it’s about time you did.’ She took another hit of water, handed it to Al and moved away from the side to swim in long strokes across the pool. The fans spread out to let her come and go as she did laps back and forth. The breast stroke featured her ass bobbing up and down, her ass-crack clearly visible. The back stroke featured her bush at the top of the water, plastered behind the clear stripes of her panties.

More roustabouts as well as a couple other men meandered over to the pool for a glimpse. When Lucy climbed out of the pool to stand wringing out her hair, only the thin fabric of her bra and panties barely hid her body. She looked nude in the bright sun. Al looked over at her bodyguards and they glanced at Lucy as well as everyone in the area, doing their job while stealing views of Lucy.

She moved to the bodyguards and told them something. Al finished his drink, climbed out and brought Lucy hers.

‘I sent Earl for towels,’ she said, her face flushed, a wicked smile on her lips. ‘Cal’s watching out for kids.’

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Lucy reached over and brushed his cock. ‘You too.’

Earl arrived with two beach towels. Lucy thanked him, tossed her empty water bottle in a nearby trash barrel before stepping back to wrap a towel around her, reaching under to un-fasten her bra. She passed it to Earl before climbing out of her panties and doing the same with them.

The towel was big enough to cover her up, but when she re-adjusted it, she gave everyone a quick glimpse of tits and pussy. She leaned close to Al and said in a husky voice, ‘Screw me. Now!’

He looked around, suddenly helpless, at the faces staring at them.

Lucy looked over her shoulder at her bodyguards and said, ‘I need my purse.’ She took Al’s hand and led him away from the pool around the T-shirt shop to a small slope where she took off the towel, spread it on the grass and lay down on her back, legs straight out, arms behind her head. Her fans and the other man came to look at her lying naked, full frontal nudity.

Earl arrived with her purse and she told Al, ‘Inside. Condoms.’

He found them, held one in hand, looking over his shoulder now at the assembled men and fans.

‘You know how it works, don’t you?’ Lucy said.

He shoved down his bathing suit and donned the condom before moving over her. Lucy closed her eyes and opened her legs. Al looked down at the pink, glistening folds of her pussy as he knelt between her legs and pressed the tip of his swollen cock against her. She curled her back as he slid inside her slick walls and cried out, cried again as he began pumping her, fucking her right there in front of everyone. Her knees rose around him as he pounded her, driving himself deep within.

Slowing down, he tried his best to hold back to let it last but she bucked under him, her pussy’s love muscles grabbing him, milking him until he came in long thrusts that sent shivering waves of weakness through his legs until he collapsed on her. Rolling off to catch his breath, he realised he was still wearing his sunglasses.

Through dark sunglasses, Lucy watched a red-tail hawk circling overhead. Lying spread-eagle on the towel as her breathing returned to normal, she realised what she’d just done. Fucking in public was something she’d wanted to do for a long time. Propping herself up on her elbows, her lover trying to catch his breath next to her, she peered between her open knees at about a dozen spectators, old and young men leering at her open pussy. Behind them stood Earl and Cal, arms folded, each with a fresh towel.

‘Come on,’ she told The Thrill as she sat up, then stood and moved through the assembled, straight for Earl, who tried to hand her a towel. She tingled, the warm breeze tickling her naked body.

‘In a minute.’ She handed Earl her sunglasses, moved past and dove into the pool. She rinsed off and climbed out for the towel. Looking at Earl’s sunglasses as she towelled off, she said, ‘Well, you’ve seen it all.’

‘Everybody did.’

She laughed as Al hurried by to rinse off in the pool, his bathing suit back on.

Later, in the car, she realised Earl and Cal had gathered her clothes and purse as well as Al’s clothes. As the AC cooled her, she looked at Al and said, ‘How about dinner?’

‘Sounds like a winner to me.’

At seven p.m. the Cadillac pulled up at the Bleu Marine, Lucy in the backseat thinking about what she’d done that afternoon. Those staring eyes when she was screwed there on the grass, the black guys rubbing their crotches, the older men watching with grins as she got good and fucked. She remembered Al’s face hovering over her, the serious look as he tried his best to make it last. It was deliciously naughty. She loved walking naked, feeling the air on her body when she moved and the stares following her.

When she showered after, she wondered if anyone could have recognised her behind those sunglasses. No, no one had and getting the license plate number from the Caddy would be of little value since it was registered to a holding company in Jackson that was part of Delaware Corporation owned by a trust out of Grand Cayman.

Earl and Cal had acted the same as always when they returned to pick her up for the drive to the casino. Even without sunglasses, their eyes revealed nothing of what they thought of her. Part of her wanted them to think of her as the friendly little girl from grammar school, part of her wanted them to know she was a little whore. Looked like the second part won out, only they were playing their cards cautiously. She’d have to talk to them about it, but not now.

She knew she looked good, radiant after a good screwing. Her hair came out nice that evening, fuller than usual in the humidity, falling perfectly over her shoulders. She wore a dark green dress, short but not too short, matching high-heels and nude stockings, no panties, no bra. The dress had spaghetti straps and was fitted around her breasts, tight around her waist and fuller from her hips down. Satin, it felt cool to the touch.

She wanted to look especially nice for Al and didn’t know why, exactly. He’d just had her and gave no indication what he thought of her exhibitionism, her out-of-control wantonness, her downright nasty side. As the Caddy parked and Al came out in a white linen shirt and light-weight tan slacks, brown boat shoes, Lucy knew she wanted one thing tonight – more cock.

Al climbed in and took her hand, squeezing it as he leaned over and kissed her neck and up to her ear where he whispered, ‘You were incredible today. You had me so hot and all those men too.’ Al leaned back and looked into her eyes. ‘Lucy, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘Good,’ she said when he settled next to her. ‘You hungry?’

‘Ravenous.’

She reached over and tapped his crotch. ‘After, you can ravish me again.’

They dined at Fontenot’s, the most exclusive restaurant in nearby Gulfport. A rain squall followed them from the restaurant all the way back to Pass Christian and only dissipated as they turned off Highway 90 for the Incanto estate. Through the dark woods of pine, oak and the occasional magnolia tree, the Caddy took the winding road to the ante-bellum home. Surrounded by a veranda along its first floor, the estate was a three-storey Greek Revival with southern touches, including a red tile roof, French doors and balconies along the top floors supported by Ionic columns. Its white paint seemed to glow under the bright security lights. The Caddy parked beneath a large portico on the left as the first drops of rain reached the compound.

They entered through a side door directly into a library filled with books, two sofas, wing-back chairs and a huge oriental rug. Lucy led Al through the front entrance foyer, past a twisting, marble staircase on the left, through the living room and into a formal dining room.

‘What would you like to drink?’

‘Scotch rocks?’

She poured him a double, Chivas Regal, took his glass and a wine glass into the kitchen to get his ice and filled her glass with white Italian wine, another from Bolla called Soave. They went back to the living room, kicked off their shoes and sat at opposite ends of a blue loveseat. Lucy pulled her right knee up on the sofa, her left leg draped over the side, giving him a good view of her bush, since she wore no panties, just black thigh-high stockings.

‘I’m stuffed,’ she said.

‘One helluva meal,’ Al said then took a hit of scotch. ‘And this is quite a place you have.’

‘Big enough for a huge family. You like kids?’ Lucy fussed herself for not asking any of the of the previous candidates simple questions.

‘Sure, who doesn’t?’

Lucy narrowed her left eye. ‘We know you like pussy.’

‘Sure, who doesn’t?’

They both chuckled.

‘You feel up to making it up to me?’

‘Huh?’ He stopped his scotch half-way to his lips.

She leaned back, opening her knees farther. ‘Taking your time with me. You know, a little slow hand. Today’s screwing was a quickie.’

They finished their drinks and Lucy took his hand, led him up the staircase to her bedroom. They stripped each other in silence, except for the occasional excited exhalation of breath. She took him, cock in hand to her king-sized bed, let go as she lay back on it, legs spread.

Al kissed her knees all the way up to her bush, kissed her soft, silken pubic hair, then around her pussy, breathing on it as his mouth passed from one side to the other. She felt the sudden coolness of his breath on her damp lips. He nibbled around her pussy, teasing it, leaving it untouched as Lucy felt her pelvis grinding in anticipation.

This went on until she’d had enough and yanked his head to her pussy and his hot tongue slapped her clit, sending a sharp climax through her. Al worked his tongue against her clit, sucking and twirling it, making her back curl, driving shivers of pleasure through her. Al didn’t let up until a volcanic climax rocked her, causing her to lock her knees around his head and buck against his tonguing until the waves subsided.

Al rose, slipped a condom on quickly and sank his cock into her, sending another sharp climax through her. He took his time fucking her, stopped when he was close to coming, kissing her neck, rising up to knead her breasts. Sinking his tongue into her mouth, she tasted her own pussy juices which sent her over again.

He used three condoms that evening and was completely spent when he curled next to her around three a.m. She laid spread eagle, the ceiling fan cooling her with the AC. Lucy’s breathing finally evened out as sleep grabbed at her.

Maybe, she thought, I am nymphomaniac. She wanted more cock, right now. She shook those thoughts away, replacing them with a vision of the Aegean, of shimmering multi-coloured waters. She let herself sink into that vision and drift away.