Home > 365 Days (365 days # 1)

365 Days (365 days # 1)
Author: Blanka Lipinska



“Do you know what this means, Massimo?”

I turned my head toward the window, looking at the cloudless sky, and then fixed the man with a stare.

“I’ll take over that company whether the Manentes like it or not.”

I stood up, and Mario and Domenico slowly followed suit, assuming their places behind me. The meeting had been pleasant enough, but it was getting decidedly too long. I shook hands with the men gathered in the room and headed to the door.

“It will be better for everyone this way.” I lifted my hand, index finger outstretched. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

I took my jacket off and undid another button of my black shirt. I was sitting in the back seat of the car, savoring the silence and the coolness of the conditioned air.

“Home,” I growled at the driver, scrolling through the messages on my mobile.

Most were business related, but one was from Anna. It read, I’m wet, I need to be punished. My penis stirred in my pants. I sighed, grabbing it through the fabric and squeezing hard. Oh yes, my girl always knew my moods.

She knew the meeting wouldn’t be enjoyable, and that it would only make me weary. She also knew how I liked to unwind. Be ready at eight, I replied, and sat back comfortably, observing the world outside the window as it whizzed by. I closed my eyes.

There she was again. My cock instantly grew hard as steel. God, I’ll go crazy if I don’t find her. It had been five years since the accident. Five long years since the—how did the doctor put it?—the miracle of death and resurrection. Five years of dreaming about a woman I had never seen in real life. I had met her in my comatose visions. I could almost smell her hair, feel the smoothness of her skin—I could almost feel it. Each time I made love to Anna or any other woman, I made love to her. I named her my Mistress. She was my curse, my obsession, and apparently—my salvation.

The car stopped. I grabbed my jacket and stepped out. Domenico, Mario, and the other guys I’d taken with me were already waiting on the tarmac. Maybe I’d overdone it, but sometimes you just need a show of force to catch your enemy off guard.

I greeted the pilot as I entered the plane and sat down in the soft seat. A flight attendant passed me a glass of whisky with a single ice cube. I glanced at her. She knew my tastes. I sent her a blank look, while she blushed and smiled flirtatiously. Why not? I thought, and pushed myself up in a fluid motion.

I seized the surprised woman by the hand and pulled her with me toward the private part of the jet.

“Take off!” I called to the pilot, and closed the door, locking the girl and myself in.

I shot out an arm, clasping my hand over her neck and pushing her against the wall. I fixed her with a gaze. She was terrified. I closed the distance between us, allowed our mouths to touch, and bit her lower lip. She moaned. Her arms hung limply along her body and she stared straight into my eyes. I seized her by the hair and pulled, tilting her head back. Her eyes closed and she moaned again. Such a beauty, so girlish. I required all my employees to be aesthetically pleasing. I liked my things pretty.

“Kneel,” I growled, pushing her down. She did as she was ordered without hesitation. I purred, praising her submissiveness, and trailed a thumb along her lips. They parted obediently.

I had never even talked to this girl before, but she immediately knew what she was supposed to do. I gently pushed her head against the wall and unzipped my pants. The flight attendant swallowed loudly, her enormous eyes still fastened on mine.

“Keep your eyes closed,” I said gently, my thumb moving across her eyelids. “You’ll only open them when I tell you.”

My cock sprang from my pants, rock-hard, almost painfully stiff. It rested on the girl’s lips, and she obediently opened her mouth. Wide.

You don’t have any idea what’s coming, darling, I thought, and pushed my prick all the way in, holding her head so she couldn’t move. I felt her choking, and thrust even deeper. Oh yes, I loved it when their eyes snapped wide open in terror, as if they really thought they’d suffocate. I withdrew. Slowly. Then I stroked her cheek in a tender, delicate gesture. I observed her calming down, licking her lips clean of the thick spittle that came deep from her throat.

“I’ll fuck your mouth,” I said. She was trembling. “May I?”

My face expressed nothing—no smile, no emotion. For a moment, the girl stared at me with those huge eyes, finally nodding her consent.

“Thank you,” I breathed, caressing her cheeks with both hands. I leaned her head further back against the wall and slid myself along her tongue all the way to her throat. She clasped her lips around my cock. Oh yes! My hips began to thrust, hard. I could feel her fighting for a breath, so I gripped her harder. That’s it! Her nails bit painfully into my thighs. At first she tried to push me away, then to simply hurt me, scratching my skin. I liked it. I liked it when they fought when they were helpless against my strength. I closed my eyes and saw my Mistress kneeling in front of me, her jet-black eyes piercing me like daggers.

She loved it when I took her like that. I clenched my hands on her hair even harder, seeing the lust in her stare. I couldn’t last any longer. Two more hard strokes and I froze, while my jizz spurted out from my shaft, filling the girl’s throat, choking her. I opened my eyes and looked at her smeared makeup. I withdrew a fraction, making some space.

“Swallow,” I growled, pulling her hair once more.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she complied. I pulled my cock out of her mouth and she collapsed back on her heels, sliding down the wall.

“Now lick it.” The girl froze. “Lick it clean.”

I propped my arms against the wall in front of me and glared at her menacingly. She hoisted herself up again and grabbed my manhood in one slender hand, starting to lick off the remains of my seed. I smiled faintly, watching as she did her best. When I decided it was enough, I pulled away and zipped my pants.

“Thank you.” I offered her a steadying hand as she pushed herself up, stood next to me on slightly shaky legs. “The bathroom is there,” I said, pointing her in the right direction, despite the fact that she must have known the plane intimately. She nodded and headed toward the door.

I returned to my companions and sat, taking a sip of the exquisite liquor, though its temperature had ceased to be perfect sometime before. Mario put down his newspaper and sent me a look.

“Back in your father’s day, they’d shoot us all dead.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes, and clinked the glass against the tabletop with irritation.

“Back in my father’s day we used to bootleg booze and drugs instead of running the biggest companies in Europe.” I leaned back in the chair, pinning my consigliere with an angry stare. “I am the head of the Torricelli family and I got where I am by no quirk of fate. It was my father’s decision. I have been brought up prepared to lead the family and bring it into a new era.” I sighed again, relaxing a little when the flight attendant flitted silently to the front of the plane. “Mario,” I said. “I know you used to like shooting.” The older man, my adviser, allowed himself a slight smile.

“We’ll have an opportunity for that soon enough.” I sent him a grave look. “Domenico.” I turned to my brother, who was stealing glances at me the whole time. “Tell your men to start looking for that whoreson Alfredo.” My eyes traced back to Mario. “You want a shootout? You’ll get one.”

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