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Not As They Seem

How some seemingly obvious things, are never quite so...

“Be his dirty whore. Suck his balls, rim his ass, and let him screw yours. Be as kinky as fuck one moment, then doe-eyed, innocent, and lovey-dovey the next. Guys love that shit. Do it and you can get away with murder.”

Chasity was not shocked by her sister’s language. She had come to expect April’s ill-timed, albeit well-meaning, advice. However, she would rather not receive it in the presence of their customers.

“Chas, face it. You’re a prude. You need to play around more.”

“I am NOT,” she hushed back. “And I do just fine.”

This was an old game. April loved taunting her older sister.

“Jared’s here,” Chasity whispered, re-directing her sister’s attention. April caught his eye as he walked towards them.

“I’ll be right back.”

She greeted Jared at the Staff Only door and led him through to her office. Chasity just shook her head.

Like most hard-working immigrants, the Borelli family had big dreams, but also suffered tragedy. After several focused years, they opened their beloved Gemello’s Bistro and Café, living above it in a quaint two bedroom apartment. However, after being widowed during the birthing of their second child, a despondent Marcello Borelli would frequently speak to his dearly departed Irish beauty, searching for her strength. Some even heard him say, including his young daughters, that he wished April had never been born.

Surprising to most, the high-functioning alcoholic was able to raise his two girls, and operate a moderately successful business.

Patrons said the sisters were graced with their mother’s radiant, red hair, milky soft freckle-kissed skin, and had their father’s warm, brown eyes. As teens, they grew into their mother’s short statured, generous shape, with large, welcoming bosoms and dangerous curves, and their father’s stereotypical, Italian confidence.

Both quickly learned the business was their livelihood, but also their prison. Whether it was out of sympathy or sheer dogged determination, and despite their father’s growing Irish whiskey dependency, the teens made the business flourish.

This was not a life any child should live. Nor should any child be burdened with blame for the death of their parent. However, this was their tragedy, and this was their life.

With April preoccupied with Jared, Chasity reviewed the previous day’s sales. She then remembered that Detective Horowitz had called. She listened to his message, and then promptly deleted it.

Something about a wedding picture?

He would call again. He always did, but she had no more time for him or his games.

A few moments after vanishing, April and Jared re-appeared, embraced farewell, and April returned to the Borelli’s traditional morning meeting table at the back corner of the restaurant.

“That was fast.”

“When you’re good, you’re good,” April gloated.

“Good God girl, your breath smells like semen.”

April giggled as she refreshed it with a spicy ginger chai. Ginger for my gingers, their father used to say.

“Why do you do that?” Chasity asked, her voice bouncing from curiosity to semi-disapproval and back again.

“Do what? Blow him?”

“Yes, that. Keep your voice down.”

“He gives me great service and I’m a loyal customer.” April then licked the corner of her mouth. “Besides, he has a lovely cock. You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe,” Chasity joked, and then added, “Maybe we should fellate our loyal customers?”

“Jesus, Chas, who says fellate?” April mocked. “I sucked him off, he shot his load, and I swallowed. No big deal.”

The sisters laughed and their customers took notice. They then imagined their father’s expression had he overheard their conversation. The feisty Italian would rage, “You girls will be the death of me.”

Instead, it was depression and the Jameson Gold that got him. Fearing they would become their father, the sisters never drank.

“Do you still sleep with him?”

“Once in a while, especially if I order something off menu.”

“Off menu?”

“Special order. Something other than weed.”

“Is he, you know, good?”

“He fashions a real cunt stretcher, and he knows how bang out a few window-rattling, toe-curling orgasms, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“NO. Shit. That’s not what I’m… oh, shut up.”

An uncomfortable silence struck before April spoke again.

“You know, Chas, except for Dad, the longest relationship I’ve had with a man is with a dealer.”

“Maybe you should marry him.”

“Maybe I should,” April shot back. “Jared’s asked enough times.”

“Maybe I should marry Matt,” Chasity countered, getting caught up in the one-upmanship. She then froze, realizing what she had just said.

It stunned April too. Chasity had vowed to never again go down that road, especially not a third time. However, they both sensed Matt was changing her position on the matter. Chasity then changed the subject.

“That detective called today.”

“Again? What now?”

“I don’t know. I guess he still thinks it was more than just joy-riding kids in a stolen car.”

Harry could have attended Oxford as easily as Harvard, but chose the same, lesser known east coast college that Chasity had. Full scholarships will make those decisions for you. His medical studies’ focus did not prevent him from falling in love, proposing, or wearing elbow-patched tweed jackets.

College for Chasity gave her an escape, and she discovered a lost innocence, but there was guilt. Marcello said he could only afford college for one, and sent the eldest. If April wanted to go, she either had to earn it through scholarships, or pay her own way. They knew neither would happen.

Chasity felt she abandoned and betrayed April, leaving her to run the business for their drunkard father. However, April graciously said she had never been bitten by the higher learning or travel bug. The posters and books in her room begged to differ.

“Detective Horowitz, Miss Borreli is here.

Jimmy checked out her curvy figure as she sat across the desk from his superior.

“How are you?”

“Busy.”

“Understood. So are we, solving murders.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

He ignored the bait, opened a file folder, and slid a grainy photo across his desk.

The glossy paper revealed a wedding ceremony in a park, with what appeared to be, in the background, the stolen vehicle, including its impact-cratered windshield. It also showed a person exiting the driver’s side. The image had clearly been magnified for identification purposes, but it compromised the clarity. Fitting, she thought.

Horowitz now simmered. She let him stew. She knew what he was cooking.

“I did not kill Harry for fuck’s sake.”

“I never said you did, I only suspect it. However, you have to admit, losing two fiancés is suspicious.”

“Fuck you, asshole! I never killed them. Are we done here?”

“Almost. Remind me again where you were the evening Harry was run over?”

“At the movies with Jared Hamilton.”

“Not a strong alibi, is it? Relying on a known drug dealer with a rap sheet? Drugs. Assault. Auto theft.”

“Whatever. I don’t know anything about that stuff.”

Horowitz watched as she uncomfortably shifted in her chair.

“Jared is the older brother of Robert Hamilton, your first fiancé, isn’t he?”

“That’s not new information.”

“Coroner said he bled out and his lungs were filled with water, but he was also chemically incapacitated. Poor guy really wanted to go… or someone really wanted him gone.”

She stared at Horowitz and said nothing.

“Miss Borelli, do you have anything you would like to tell me?”

“Up yours. Are we done?”

“For now, but don’t leave town.”

After unexpectedly losing her first fiancé, Robert, to what was bizarrely ruled as a suspicious suicide; college was the best thing for Chasity. She never told anyone, but earlier that day, she had ended their engagement, citing impetuous youth.

Robert was found stiff, with his wrists slashed, submerged in a tub full of cold, pink water. No amount of counseling or self-medication rids you of that reality. That day, Jared lost a brother, but gained April as a console mate. They shared a bonding, devastating burden. Each was indirectly responsible for the death of a loved one. A dumped Robert had found Jared’s stash and took something he should not have.

A few years after Robert’s passing, Harry was struck in a crosswalk. The car was later found and had been reported stolen. The police never found the driver, but witnesses claimed they saw everything from kids wearing parachute pants to a short, pudgy man fleeing the scene.

A couple of months after Harry’s passing, Mr. Borelli’s pickled liver finally failed him, and subsequently, Chasity’s dreams of a new life away from Gemello’s failed her too. She returned to bury a father and contend with a changed sibling.

“Matt, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”

“Can’t a guy get a coffee and a sandwich without an interrogation?”

Recalling the conversation she had with her sister, she motioned for the tall, dark, and handsome man to follow. She locked the office door behind them and pushed Matt up against the desk.

“Shhh. Not a word.”

He watched the head of flowing red lower to her knees, tuck his tie into his shirt, unzip his dress slacks, and pull out his confused but fast growing friend.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Not another word or I’ll stop.”

Matt zipped his lips and braced himself as his cock fattened between her massaging lips. As he grew, so did her tongue’s action, swirling around his smooth skin and the underside of the bulbous ridge.

“Ho… Holy Fuck,” Matt stuttered as she squeezed her narrow fingers around his thickened shaft. She stroked his eager cock, while first licking, and then repeatedly sucking in each of his heavy balls.

This was so random, so unusual a treat for him, but he loved it. Matt was on the brink before she even took him in her mouth again.

“Babe, I’m almost there,” Matt panted, so she swallowed him deep, all the way to the back of her throat. When his cock felt the clutching pressure, he pulled her tight, sending multiple streams down her throat.

When she began to gag, she pulled back so his leaking cock oozed more onto her tongue. She gently squeezed his still twitching, but softening manhood, milking out the remainder. Once almost flaccid, she stood and displayed his seed before swallowing. Matt remained standing and stunned by her exhibition.

When the phone rang, she told Matt that he should go. He tucked himself back in and blew her a kiss before leaving. As she reached for her cell phone during the third ring, he whispered, “I love you.”

She mouthed back, “I love you, too”, and then answered.

“What did Horowitz want?”

“Same old, same old. He showed me a picture of a wedding in the park where they found the car. It showed someone getting out, but it was poor quality. He’s confident it was just one person.”

Dead silence.

“Did he suspect anything else?”

“Nope, not what you mean.”

“Good. Thanks for doing that for me.”

“Anytime.”

When Matt asked April to help select an engagement ring, she cautioned him. He knew the risks. Never again could be too soon, but he assured April that her sister was worth it. Everyone deserved to be loved. April could not disagree. However, it amazed her how an incorrect order and spilled coffee led to this.

April did not understand why the engagement score was about to change to three to nothing. They were essentially the same people. She did, however, thanks to her dealer, have a lead in proposals. Chasity warned her sister not to mislead him, but April assured it was just stoner lust, not love.

After trying on several rings, they settled on a lovely, solitary, big ass, motherfucking diamond, as April described it. Spending the afternoon with Matt gave her renewed hope. She agreed. This was the right thing to do.

Neither Matt or April saw, but Jared had been watching them from his car. While gridlocked in front of the jewelry store, he happened to glance over. Later that evening, April persuaded Jared not to ruin the surprise.

“Jimmy,” Horowitz bellowed, “Why do we have two head shots of Chasity Borreli in the file?”

Jimmy turned both over.

“Nope, just one.”

Detective Marvin Horowitz slammed back into his smelly office chair. It hit him hard. On the back of one photo, it was written, April Borreli.

“How the hell did I not know this?”

“I assumed you did. Didn’t Detective Copeland note it in the file?”

Horowitz glared at Jimmy. Either Copeland was a shitty detective, or the heart attack took him before he could document it. This was the problem with taking over a dead cop’s case. Missing information. Lost hunches. Costly disconnect.

His mind raced through the permutations and possibilities. Horowitz had questions. Lots of them.

As the giddy, newly engaged couple cuddled in bed, recovering from their first enthusiastic round of celebration fucking, they fed one another the leftover Tiramisu. A well-placed hand was also preparing Matt’s body for round two, while his fingers frolicked in her fiery bush.

“I do love it,” she said holding her outstretched hand above them for both to admire.

She then surprised him. “I want to be your dirty whore, forever,” and told him to turn over.

Matt obeyed, rolled onto his belly, and lifted his hips as they positioned a pillow under them. Placing herself between his spread legs, she pulled his tackle towards her, so she had access to his cock, balls, and ass, all now in alignment.

Grinning ear-to-ear, Matt extended his arms, like a crucifix, and gripped the edge of the mattress as he felt her fingers tips circle his hole. First licking, and then sucking, she alternated between testicles, before wrapping her lips around the fully engorged head while she continued to circle his puckered entrance.

“Do you like that, Matt?”

“Oh yes, Babe. Don’t stop.”

Before she returned him to her mouth, she spat on his ass, then using her tongue, rimmed and probed before working two fingers inside. Matt groaned, and rocked his pelvis to her gentle finger thrusts as she again sucked on his balls before taking in his cock. Her tongue teased his pee hole, causing him to squirm with delight.

“Oh God… Oh God,” Matt repeated as her fingers rubbed his prostate. They twisted and turned inside his ass, always maintaining contact with his sensitive bump. With her other hand, she strummed her finger nails along the underside of his shaft, like she was finger picking the strings of a banjo.

“I want you in my ass?” was all that was needed before he trembled and released.

The glowing lovers again embraced, cooing and snuggling, while giving Matt time to prepare for round three. This time, she gave him her ass. While spooning, she bit her lower lip as he pressed against, and then entered her. With Matt moving slowly inside, he told her how lucky a man he was.

“Matt, this is Detective Horowitz. I need to ask you something disturbing. It’s extremely important. Can we speak now?”

“Go ahead.”

“Did Chasity ever tell you about her and April trading places when they were kids?”

“Sure. They have stories just like I suspect any identical siblings have. Why?”

“Have they ever done it as adults?”

Matt’s mind returned to the surprise office blow job and the evening’s anal escapades. He felt the chill. He did not like where this was going.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Why?”

“I think April is plotting to begin a new life.”

“Bullshit.”

“Matt, when’s the last time you saw Chasity?”

“Fuck man. We just got engaged tonight. She just left. She said when she saw April earlier, she was behaving odd, almost like she was drunk.”

Matt knew neither sister drank, so he shared that with Horowitz.

“Chas called later, April didn’t answer, so she’s driving to her place now.”

Horowitz became quiet. He had his first hunch.

“When’s the last time you saw them together?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Matt, do you know what Rohypnol is?”

"Oh Christ! What have you done?" Chasity cried as the approaching sirens grew louder.

After lifting the slumping head of her incapacitated sister, she noticed that she was still breathing. Chasity wrapped April’s slashed wrist with a towel, but remained hopeful. Toxicology reports would later determine that Horowitz’s hunch was correct.

The front door then burst open with several sets of footsteps storming the apartment, barely heard over Matt’s frantic screams.

"Horowitz, in here!" Matt yelled as he entered the bathroom, almost slipping in the pool of blood that had drained from the bullet hole in Jared’s rigid body, frozen upright next to the tub.

“Hold on,” Chasity comforted while grimacing at the horrific scene. She squeezed her eyes shut hoping the bloody mess would disappear.

As the paramedics tended to the dimming life, Chasity leered at Horowitz as he re-examined the note.

If I can’t have her, then no one can.

Horowitz then handed it to Jimmy, ordering a rush on the handwriting analysis.

“Some things are not as they seem,” mumbled Horowitz.

“And sometimes, they are exactly as they are,” defended Chasity.

“Possibly,” Horowitz replied.

“You’re a shitty cop, you know that?”

“We’ll see about that,” Horowitz said as watched the stretcher exit the apartment, then added, “We’ll need to run a GSR test. And Miss Borelli, don’t leave town.”

Matt and Horowitz would soon learn, she never, ever had.

Ladies,

Thank you for submitting the selected chapters. Great synopsis.

Loved the bread crumbs! I looked up Gemello - Italian for twins. The reader is never certain who’s with Matt or the detective. Strategic pronoun use. Nicely done.

Please fully develop the father-daughter-daughter, dead fiancés, and sibling revenge back stories. Love the twisted, unrequited lover's murder-suicde spin.

Welcome to the Baron Publishing family.

Here's the advance we discussed. Now, write that novel!

Michael J. Baron, Publisher

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