Slam 'n' Scram

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

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“Only a man knows how to please a man,” mumbled Lollo Aurelie, choking back the tears as he turned to exit out the backdoor.

If someone told me five weeks ago, I would’ve had compassion for another one of those fucking mobsters, especially one doubling as my rapist, I would’ve said I was dying because you were a motherfucking liar!

But that’s how the cookie crumbled one snowy afternoon many years ago, watching the only man I’d ever had feelings for leave the only home he’d ever known to get out of dodge of a spoiled brat named Sonnie Caruso and his infamous temper tantrum.

Before I began my first dance lesson with the Carlucci family, I was just a twenty-six-year-old factory worker trying my hardest to support my beautiful eighteen-year-old bride and the dream she had of opening her own beauty salon. It wasn’t easy to say the least, but we got it done, getting everything from the lease on the building to the equipment needed along with the licenses the City of New York requires of a legitimate business operation. Everything was off to a good start. My bride was happy because she was living her lifelong dream. I was happy because she was happy and giving me more pussy than I knew what to do with. On top of that, we were both making money during the toughest of times. Her hustle was going so good I could’ve walked off my job. I was very much tempted to whenever the snow made me nostalgic of my boyhood days of school and play. But I thought wisely against it considering my cultural-strong Italian and Greek families was just aching to blame the other for any of my shortcomings…you know with me being a ‘half-breed’ and all.

I guess in spite of my eagerness to keep our alarming success between my wife and I, Sonnie Caruso and his gang caught wind of it anyway after his snot-nose sister cried she wanted a beauty salon, too. (Sophia was one of those broads that was too old and too ugly to get hitched, so she thought she could make a decent dig as a businesswoman. Unfortunately, she failed to understand that she, just like her brother, had neither the common sense nor the business acumen of two grapes grown together!)

Sonnie and his crew started out being more of a pest than a threat, dropping by the shop to harass my wife for money. Thankfully, they never got to her because all four of her ugly, strong-willed aunts and ma who practically resided at the shop put a stop to that at once. I thought those bastards took the hint and were going after gangsters their own size when they turned around and beat up one of those fat broads. Being a family man now, I knew I had to step in just in case things escalated further on their end. I was constantly advised against it and just pay those bastards “their taxes” simply because they had just aligned themselves with Don Carlucci and his family. By far they weren’t big players like the Gambino family and not necessarily competition with some of the lesser families. As far as I was concern, Carlucci were barely a hair above Caruso and his crew, as they were all a street gang of wannabes in tailored pinstripes that were becoming an increasing threat with each passing day.

Everything came to a head about a couple of years ago when Sonnie Caruso and his gang decided to get bold and trash my wife’s salon. Without thinking or getting back up, I went into the streets like a one-man army ready to take them on. When a man goes looking for a fight, he’ll find one…and I found one! It was five against one with Caruso sitting on the sidelines on his fat sorry ass. I was throwing punches left and right like the comic book heroes. Then, as I saw all five of them laid out on the ground in front of me with Caruso looking unmoved a sixth guy came out of nowhere and clocked me over the back of my head, with Caruso asking him to drag me into the other room.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before I came to on the floor with this warm liquid showering my chest and working its way up to my face. I might’ve been too afraid to open my eyes to figure out the source of the stream, but I knew what it was that hit me after getting a whiff of the pungent stream.

“Ahhh! What the fuck?!” I screamed, ready to fight some more after some of it got into my eye.

“I thought Greek-Italian half-breed shits like you like your piss baths.” Caruso offered smugly in his seductive Florentine accent, in a black blazer and gray turtleneck with a cross around his neck.

Caruso was a large bald forty-two-year-old pure Italian with a hairless double chin and a potbelly that looked more like a gruesome overstuffed baby than he could ever look like a real mob boss.

“Fuck you, fuck!” I spat, trying my damnedest to break my arms from behind my back.

“I see you see that I had to get on my Ps and Qs with you. What? I couldn’t let someone who just took out my whole crew with his fists roam free like a wildebeest now, could I?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Caruso chuckled. “What do I want? You know what I want, and at every turn you and your sorry family have been blocking me and my boys at every turn.”

“We’re not going to pay you!”

“We’re way beyond that stage now, Lido. Even if I made my collections on you retroactive, even with all the success you and your cunt have had you couldn’t even begin to put a dent in what you owe me without me taking over your shop.”

“And what, so you can hand it over to your cross-eyed dunce of a sister so she could ugly up the neighborhood even more with her special looks!”

“You talk a lot of shit for a man in your position, Lido.”

“Or what, you’re going to feed me to the fishes?”

“No,” Caruso said calmly with a hint of sincerity. “A boy with a pretty mug like yours, I wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”

Caruso slowly approached me, and I couldn’t help but to notice his Italian sausage started to balloon right before my eyes. I looked and saw its intent in mind, but I refused to go out like some nancy boy.

Caruso said nothing else for a long ticking while with this unexplainable gleam in his eyes as he squatted before me. He just looked down at me.

“You see, Dear Lido,” Caruso grinned widened almost looking handsome, rubbing the top of my full head of black hair. “I wasn’t always the son of a bitch you see before you. I was once thin and remarkably handsome with a full head of locks before my own cunt and those awful crumb snatchers slowly chipped away at my good looks. I was my best back in the old country. Lido, you should’ve seen me. There wasn’t a girl in town I couldn’t nail. Then, of course, there wasn’t a pretty boy bird taker I couldn’t nail either, with their tight little asses and pouty lips that knew how to make a man feel like a man.”

I looked at him, looking at his eyes brighten even wider as he spoke before they began to dim slightly.

“There was this one piece of sweet cunt named Giovanni that didn’t understand the rules. He didn’t understand that the two of us fooling around was only a temporary thing; that we could never be together like that of man and wife. But he thought because his beauty superseded many of the girls around town, he was the exception and not the rule with his eyes fixated on only me. In a different world, where they allowed such a thing, Giovanni wouldn’t have been such a bad thing to wake up to every morning. But we don’t live in that world, do we? And when Papa found out about the boys, he loaded my ass on a boat to America to find me a girl.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked more out of annoyance than fear.

“As you already know, I followed through on Papa’s plan. I’m married now with grown kids scattered about the neighborhood.”

“So?” I tried to find the connection.

“So, Dear Lido, I did everything that was required of me before my papa passed. I’m married now, but my wife’s going through the change and isn’t meeting my needs. It isn’t like she ever met them before, but like a good Italian broad, she was willing to take everything I was willing to offer anytime I wanted it. And that was good enough as long as the broad was willing to take it. That isn’t the case now. And if I started fooling around with another broad and my kids found out, they’ll have my ass. I was thinking that in order to pay me what I’m owed maybe the two of us could come up with a little compromise.”

“What kind of compromise?” I felt the fear rise in my throat.

“Since you look enough like my Giovanni, maybe you’d consider letting me relive my youth by letting me have you as my new Giovanni every now and then and maybe I’ll consider forgetting about your wife’s salon for awhile.”

“Here’s a thought.” I said, not even entertaining his proposal. “Why don’t you take a vacation back to the old country and make nice with your old Giovanni?”

“I did about a couple of years back when Papa took his dirt nap. Because I wasn’t in the habit of staying in contact with them after I got over here, it wasn’t until I went back that I found out that without me, not there to protect him, some gray wolves got ahold of him and ripped Giovanni to pieces. He died the year after I left.”

I felt sorry for him, even though I didn’t understand that queer stuff. But to do that meant he might’ve thought I was sympathetic enough to stand in for his fruit ma toot.

“So, I ask, Dear Lido,” Caruso cooed, standing up straight with his heavy dick hanging over his fly. “Will you have this fat old man?”

I looked up at him, making sure I looked passed his intimidating salami directly at his face, and with no reservation, I answered, “No!”

It probably wasn’t more than a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours waiting for his response, be it verbal or wordless. I was expecting him to get mad, but instead, he just looked at me with a simper and said, “Alright then. I can respect you as a man for not wanting to be a peter puffer–but that doesn’t mean I’ll enjoy you any less.”

Like a tiger he pounced me on the ground, rolling me onto my stomach where he ripped off my pants and began to…uh…uh…you know.

Caruso mounted me like a dog several times throughout the night for what seemed like an eternity, each time being more sadistic than the last. For such a fat man, he had quite a bit of built-up passion that was unleashed on me with every forceful thrust, calling me Giovanni. I swore he was planning on keeping me as his personal sex slave for all eternity. And then, as if he was hit with this epiphany, he let me go.

I stumbled into the house unable to get my legs together to walk straight, and with my knees threatening to give way with every footstep, I was bowlegged and leaning instead of upright. Every step felt like I was walking with a thick broom handle lodged in my keister, and there was no way of it coming out. I thought I would be fortunate enough to come home to a sleeping wife, but she was waiting patiently by the front door. She knew something was amiss, though she was respectful enough not to ask me any questions. Even if she had, I knew the way I reeked of him by and by might’ve answered her burning question.

I thought when I came into the house I could wash away the evidence. But somewhere between seeing my wife’s face and scrubbing my skin raw, I’d made up my mind I was going to get my gun and kill the son of a bitch. I fell to my knees and bawled like a baby before I reached the closet. I cried for what he did to me and how my body reacted lustfully to his, but strangely I also cried for Giovanni tormented by that same magical touch.

Eventually, I found my nerve to confront Caruso a couple of weeks afterwards, giving into the thought I was protecting my wife’s stake in the community with businesses being muscled left and right into their control. I don’t know who I was lying to, but when I was put before him again, I found myself buckling underneath his aura, his power, as if it was my will to submit to him.

Much to my surprise, Caruso kept his word. He forgot about my wife’s shop in exchange to relive his youth through me. We started off fucking, with me initially rejecting his amorous attempts to be anything more. Then my body craved his violence and shuddered whenever the Italian Stallion viciously conquered me.

It was only after on of our weekly sessions that Caruso began to bring my guard down, admitting he was running out of ways of extracting that raw passion out of me. It wasn’t hard with Giovanni, he groaned. Love came easily between the two, he argued. Giovanni worshiped him like a god. And while the sex was a much-needed stress relief, Caruso desperately pined for something more than to just blow another wad.

Apart of me wanted to tell the mobster to get bent, especially after the horror he unleashed on me that snowy night. Maybe it was the honesty written across his face or the fact he ruined me so made me drop to my knees and take him into my mouth, not like a need to protect my family but more like a want for my unexplained feelings for him.

This was the beginning of my double life, splitting my time almost evenly between my pregnant bride and mob admirer, trying my best to keep everything together while the latter brought me deeper into his world.

Caruso and I had just completed another session of marathon fucking in our secret locale when he rolled off my sweaty back and headed into the bathroom. He was running the water when I heard his private phone ring in the other room. He went to answer it. A few short minutes later he came back into the room with a tee shirt and underwear on telling me he had to run out for a moment. He got dressed and left.

I distinctly remember him locking the door behind himself when he left. I found this to be strange because most people weren’t in the habit of locking their doors from the outside, especially given the obscure part of town we stayed in. It was more of an afterthought to lock it from the inside while somebody was there, in oppose to the other way around back in those days. At any rate, I simply rolled onto my side and basked in the quiet of being alone, which was also quite a rare feat back in those days.

Because I had no real sense of time, I couldn’t say how long I was out except I remember waking up just shy of the lock being unlocked. I heard the footsteps make their way towards me. But before the footfall made over to the threshold of the bedroom, the phone rang. Usually, Caruso made a habit of ignoring calls after making a previous run, but he decided to answer it anyway, angrily mumbling to someone on the other line.

The footsteps approached once again, this time heavier than before, almost angry in their own right. From past experiences, I knew he was pissed because they disturbed him for no probable cause. He wasn’t like other men in the world of organized crime, he boasted. He wasn’t against answering phone calls. He was just against leaving an incredible lay when it wasn’t utterly necessary.

The way his clothes hit the floor in this mad dash to get undressed, I knew his testosterone was in overdrive. Caruso may have hungered for affection, but it had to compete with his animalistic sex drive at times. When he wanted it, he wanted it. No questions asked. In knowing this, feeling him climb under the covers with me, I saved him the ceremony of trying to nudge me awake and rolled onto my stomach.

He wasted no time reaching over to palm my ass. His fingers slowly moved into my crack feeling the lingering wetness trapped inside the petroleum jelly he left their earlier. His fingers were long and thick, but also very giving. I wanted to roll over and look at him, kiss him and hug him like we were those old lovers he talked about back in the old country, but I refused to break. I wanted to get this over with to check on my bride and unborn child. He must’ve been in the same mind, eager to get home to his wife and her homemade Italian dishes.

He wasted no time replacing his fingers with the enlarged head of his plump dick, climbing onto my back.

Like always, I screamed at entry, never getting use to the maiden invasion, begging the brute to either take it out or go slower.

“Shhh!” He hissed softly in my ear.

My body let go of its tension only for it to quickly return, noticing a major difference. It wasn’t his response as it was his usual scent that made me tense up, different from any I had ever known of him before.

I tried my earnest to ignore my suspicions, feeling like they were unfounded. For knowing this was something only the two of us did with each other. But deep down, I couldn’t. No way. No how. This dick drilling into me felt different. Not bigger or smaller, just not as pliable as I was accustomed to.

“Oh, god,” I cried out. Not to the sensation surging through my body but acknowledging the absence of the potbelly that usually rode the small of my back.

“Shut up,” the stranger mumbled.” Shut up and take my pork, you flit!”

All of my suspicions were confirmed in that sentence. Caruso never called his dick pork, but proudly called it his crack hunter.

I knew from the first time that fighting back was only going to make the pain worse, so I tried to relax and take it. But this only encouraged the stranger to press down on my shoulders forcing my legs further apart to gain better access to my backyard. I pushed back, hoping he wasn’t like the mobster and that he was able to come quickly with some encouragement.

The stranger quickly proved to be like the mobster, getting into this unbelievable pulse that made me once again regret the way my body shuddered at this sinful pleasure. But I didn’t care so much this time as I did the first time, as I was content with biting into the pillow and letting the animal have at it.

I must’ve been in my own little world crying thorough this pillaging fuck before it came to me that I was on my back with him ramming his meaty cock back into me. I was so blinded by the pain it took several moments for me to find the strength to look this stranger in the face.

 

Aurelie, I swore.

I must say I was and wasn’t surprised I knew the stranger. I was just amazed at how well I knew him as he grinned in my face fucking me harder and faster like I was some cheap alley cat he saw across the way.

I knew Lollo Aurelie best as Caruso’s right-hand man. That was before the feathers started to fly. Aurelie was ordering hits and collections under Caruso’s name without Caruso’s knowing and against the agreements Caruso made with other families. It was widely rumored Aurelie was going behind Caruso back to make a deal with the Gambino family. The reasoning being he was going to show them that Carlucci had very little control over their crew, especially a loose cannon at the helm by the name of Sonnie Caruso. If he could show them Carlucci was nothing more than a poser to the Gambino family, they might give him the best men from both crew so he could become his own boss, or at best a noteworthy commander in an already established family.

I’d lost my voice to say such a thing, and just allowed the bastard Aurelie to fuck me. I think he was surprised more than anything else, probably remembering the day I slugged him in the alley just to get to Caruso. But the most I did between those sheets was put my hand over his hairy chest, as my way of telling him to ease up.

“Pinch my tits.” Aurelie demanded. “It’ll make me come like a fountain!”

I did, and it didn’t make him slow down none. He just went harder and farther, knocking me up in the air as he sucker punched my guts.

“I’m getting there, Lido.” Aurelie hauled.

Aurelie grunted and groaned as his dick swelled in my quivering butt chute, and then with a rigid jam held my waist and dumped another load into my empty stomach.

“Ohhh! That’s it! That’s the stuff! Only a man knows how to take care of another man.”

He held still over me, and with his face dripping of sweat, I reached up and punched him off the bed.

“What the fuck?!” Aurelie growled, checking his face for blood on the floor.

“You’re asking me ‘what the fuck?’” I growled right back, sitting up looking down at him. “You come in and fuck me like your broad and you have the nerve to ask me what the fuck?”

“You don’t know do you?” Aurelie asked.

Just then, a hard knock came over the door, which I thought was strange because the building was vacant except for our little hideaway on the third floor.

“Get your shit!” Aurelie growled between his teeth, getting his clothes on.

“Why?”

There was another hard knock at the door.”

“Get your shit!”

I quietly got off the bed and put on my clothes, neatly scared on the chair in the corner.

Aurelie was already leading me towards the window to the fire escape when we heard this blast come through the door. It probably was as simple as the door being kicked in, but it sounded like a spray of bullets coming through the door.

“I know you’re in here alone, Lido,” the strangely familiar voice of Don Carlucci came barreling through the apartment.

Aurelie and I safely made it down the fire escape to his car waiting around the corner. I wanted to go home, but he insisted it wasn’t safe. But I insisted that if Carlucci was after me, he wouldn’t hesitate to come for my wife. Then Aurelie continued to tell me he convinced her and the other women in her family to go visit their family upstate.

By the time we made it to his hideout on Staten Island, he confessed that while he didn’t have such great loyalty to Caruso anymore, given that their original objective was to protect the neighborhood over terrorizing it, his main objective was to overthrow Carlucci by discrediting him as a boss to make Caruso look more credible to the Gambinos. Even though Caruso was taking some heat from Carlucci for his actions, it was only because Caruso was finally on the Gambino’s radar. Aurelie’s plan was going according until Carlucci found out about me.

And before I could question what I had to do with it, Aurelie informed me Caruso wasn’t the only man from the old country with an interest in Old Giovanni. As Aurelie talked, it became clear Carlucci grew up in the same region just a few townships away. And judging from the timeline, it seemed that after Caruso left, Giovanni took up with Carlucci. However, unlike Caruso’s papa who happily sent him off to America to cast his demons, Carlucci’s father and uncle cruelly tortured the young handsome soul through sexual debauchery. Carlucci thought Giovanni willingly gave himself to those older men, but it took him to commit suicide for Carlucci to learn the truth.

“So again, like Caruso, Carlucci doesn’t really want me. He wants Giovanni.” I laughed nervously over my plate of risotto, thinking how I was once again competing with a dead man I never met.

Aurelie nodded. “You maybe Giovanni to those two bastards, but you’re Lido to me.”

I put my plate down and slugged him again with my bare knuckles.

“What the fuck?”

“What the fuck? What do you mean ‘what the fuck?’ Think about what a rotten thing you did to me back there at the apartment.” I roared.

“What? I saw you lying there. I figured why not find out what all the buzz was about. Hey, if you’re giving it away like a fucking fairy, you might as well take it like one, too, I say!”

I shot Aurelie a stern look.

“Sorry.” Aurelie hung his head down. “I know you got a wife and a kid on the way, and you didn’t go into Caruso’s arrangement willingly.”

After a couple of phone calls to ensure that my wife was safe upstate, I felt comfortable sticking around Staten Island with Aurelie waiting for shit to clear. I thought with everything put in my lap I was free to tell Caruso what was going on, but Carlucci got to him first and told him that I willfully ran off with Aurelie. He and his crew saw it with their own eyes.

In the weeks to come, with our lives constantly under threat, I began to see Caruso as my captor and Aurelie as my liberator. And with Aurelie absent of a wife and child, he was free to go wherever he pleased. Most of all, he enjoyed our company. I must say the feeling was mutual.

But all things must come to an end with two mobsters gunning for you with a pair of hard dicks. On our last night together, before we were to part ways, I dropped to my knees and buried my face in his crotch as a ‘thank you’ for everything.

“Oh shit, Lido,” Aurelie growled humbly. “That’s what I’m talking about. Only a man knows how to please a man.”

I sipped and sucked his waterlogged dick back and forth between my lips. His breathing became laborious with my spit dribbling down to his balls. The smooth, consistent pressure I was constantly applying to his tangy taste of meat was too much for him to bear and he began to take matters into his own hands, rapidly jerking himself off and aiming it for my face.

“Agggghhhh…h…h…h!!!!”  Aurelie howled, shooting of cream like he was trying to impregnate all of the five surrounding boroughs.

But as Aurelie came on my face, we saw Caruso and Carlucci standing there in the doorway floored. Their poor Giovanni covered in the jizz only they were privy to unleashing on him. 

Aurelie and I looked at each other and decided after we slam dick and mouth, we had to scram for our lives!