A middle-aged occupant, a petite blonde, and a greasy criminal stood in a living room after midnight. It could have been mistaken as the set-up for a bad joke, but the unfamiliar territory did not amuse Bill in the slightest.

“Dante, why are you here?” Frankie asked.

“I heard you the first time, sweetheart.” Dante advanced to her. “You got my fucking money?”

“Hey.” Bill clapped and whistled, causing Dante to glower at him with a raised brow. “Yeah, I meant you, Donnie Brasco. How the hell do you know where we live? And I thought you were supposed to call at midnight. It’s half past that.”

“First thing: Donnie Brasco? Real fucking original,” Dante started. “Second thing: I’m the one that set the terms, so I can change them whenever I want, old man.”

“Now who’s being original?” Bill said. “Old man? And you didn’t answer the question.”

“I don’t make it a habit of explaining myself, but because I like you, Bert…”

“Bill.”

“Right, whatever. Look, I put a – whaddya call it – a bug or whatever the fuck in Frankie’s suitcase.”

Bill looked over to Frankie as if to scold her for another bad report card or for breaking curfew again. Her shrug and mouthing, ‘I didn’t check, I didn’t know,’ would have to do.

“Before Frankie brings what she owes, do you have what is owed to her?” Bill asked with his hands placed akimbo.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Dante wrinkled his nose, leaving his eyes like slits.

“The twenty-percent for her running around and selling your… stuff.”

“That’s for me and her to discuss, old man, so butt out.”

“No wait, Dante, he’s right,” Frankie said. “You brought it, right?”

“Yeah, so about that.” Dante swivelled back to her and pursed his lips. “I’m only giving you ten percent.”

“What?” Frankie’s voice spiked, and she glared at Dante. “Why? I did what you asked.”

“Did ya? You didn’t sell this stash in the time I gave ya, and you didn’t give me what you made off the last stash on time either. What, I’m supposed to reward you for bad behaviour? The fuck I look like?”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa, hold on a fucking minute.” Frankie pointed. “You already punished me…”

“What? Fucking you in the ass? Gimme a fucking break. You call that punishment? You enjoyed that, Frankie. Just ‘cause I didn’t let you cum during doesn’t mean a damn thing. Now stop being a brat and bring me the fucking money you got from the leftover pot. Ten percent is all you’re getting; I ain’t repeating myself.”

“Hey, son...” Bill touched Dante on his shoulder. “You made a deal and should honour it.”

Dante backhanded Bill across the jaw, knocking him to the floor and causing Frankie to jump. He then grabbed her shoulders, shook and shoved her to the ground before shouting, “Go and get my fucking money right FUCKING NOW!”

Bill’s face flushed red, and he shook away the cobwebs, tensing his body. He sprang to his feet and hooked Dante’s neck into an attempted sleeper. With every pulse of his jaw from Dante’s strike, he cinched his hold in tighter. Consciousness almost escaped Dante until he elbowed Bill several times before being freed. Both stumbled apart, but Dante tackled Bill to the ground, struck him thrice, and then reached to his waistband for his firearm. Bill’s heart rate multiplied tenfold, and he pinned his attacker’s hands there, straining and panting. For such a brief period, it was forever for Bill as his shoulders and triceps burned. Boiling point soon approached, and his grip loosened. Gradually, Dante’s gun inched further and further out. His rage almost turned into a grin that would make Lucifer jealous as the situation leaned into his corner.

Or so it seemed.

The demonic mask soon relaxed into one of shock as his eyes bulged and jaw clenched. His body jerked several times, and Dante’s stare went through Bill, then he slumped on top of him. In a rush, Bill wriggled from under him, and the remaining white noise from the earlier blows faded. However, Frankie’s whimpers replaced them. The very ice-pick he argued with her about earlier was clasped in her hand, coated in red and her body speckled in the same colour. She stared, cried and shivered as Bill slowly rose and wrested his saviour from her hand. Her warmth vibrated in his embrace, and she buckled while sobbing into his chest.

Bill looked over his shoulder, and there Dante lay, staring into nothingness, no rising and falling of the torso; his black leather jacket closer now to maroon.

It didn’t take a medical professional to state the obvious.

***

The shower ran for an eternity, and Bill paced outside the bathroom door with a towel around his waist. Frankie had been silent since they left downstairs. Concern from her step-father grew as the sound of the water stayed constant from the time she entered. He opened the door, and through the stained shower glass, Frankie stood in one spot, sniffling.

“Bill,” she said barely above a whisper, “could you come in here with me, please?” Her blurred image repositioned itself.

“Frankie… I.”

“Please, Bill. I’m really freaking out and… and I want someone to hold me.” She sniffled again, and her voice cracked. “Please?”

Bill pulled the sliding door aside and stared at Frankie, standing still like a statue in a downpour – hugging herself and shuddering with small bumps along the skin. He removed his towel, placed it on the rack and stepped in.

“You even lathered your skin yet?” He held her shoulders and tipped her chin.

“No. Just… just standing in here.”

“I’ve got you.”

Bill took up her soap bar, wet it and lathered her skin – shoulders first and making his way down. Humps and contours lined the way in a fashion unexpected for a woman of her stature. More goosebumps arose from her skin as his palms – rough yet softer than any man she encountered – ensured every area foamed and bubbled. Afterwards, he hosed her off and gave a slight smile before bowing his head.

“You saved my life, kid.”

“Then why do I feel so dirty? I know you think I’m the worse thing in the world, but I never killed anyone.” Her features contorted. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“Hey, hey.” He held the sides of her face. “If you didn’t, it would be me dead on that floor right now.”

He kissed her forehead, and she reached down to caress his balls and cock.

“Frankie… oh jeez.”

“Bill, before your friend gets here, I want you to… to well…”

“You sure this is the best time? I mean, your mind’s got to be all over the place now.”

“That’s why I need it.” Frankie turned around, bent over and held onto the shower knobs that were shoulder-length apart. “Just fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me. It’s what I deserve.”

“Frankiiieee.”

“After I’ve been such a bitch to you. You actually stood up for me. Gave a shit even after I acted like such a fucking… a fucking…” Frankie broke down, and her arch humped; her grip around the knobs loosened, and her legs buckled before Bill reached around and grabbed her waist, standing her up and pulling her into him. The back of her head nuzzled his chest, and she reached behind his neck, settling into sniffles. He brushed tresses stuck to the side of her face, turned it and kissed her – delicate at first, then with increased pressure. She ground her little bottom against his stiffening cock and pulled it up so that it flattened against his stomach and nestled in her ass crack.

“Please.” She grabbed behind his head and rustled his hair as he swiped her crack with his cock and pushed the head into her vagina. A gasp later, and their eyes locked. Her hips rolled, inviting his descent into her depths. The set-up was akin to a mythical creature luring the hero into a story to be told for future generations.  A bedtime story for adults that intensified as their tongues wrestled and the vigour of her hip rolling increased. Strain came from his throat, and he withdrew, closed his eyes tight and squatted behind her to kiss and nibble her buttocks. He gave a single smooch to the apex of her crack first before spreading the cheeks and lowering to tongue her vagina.

“Oooh, fffu…” Frankie grabbed his hair and pulled him deeper into her womanhood, uprooting her hair with the other hand. She bent forward further, holding onto a knob one-handed and Bill’s tongue ejected and went straight for her clitoris. Circles, dots and dashes were the code communicated on her nether regions, and the reply was a high-pitched scream – Bill looked over and chuckled at the glass sliding door being in one piece still.

“My friend will be here with his crew soon to handle that business downstairs.”

“You should cum now then. Don’t hold back, I’ve already gotten mine.” Her eyes were red, but her expression showed hope.

Bill stood, stroked to full-mast and pushed inside of her again, pulling her by the waist to meet his strokes. She reached for the knobs and assumed the original position of her proposition. With every thrust, the intensity increased, and Bill’s breathing got heavier.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Ohmygod-ohmygod-ohmygod,” Frankie muttered, looking over at him, ready to cry. Her round, wet cheeks jiggled and smacked into his pelvis with the mission of extracting as much semen as possible. That mission succeeded as Bill withdrew – his face bloated, chest high – and then released everything over her back and ass, with one shot skidding off her shoulder. He stumbled backwards, almost slipped, and they both shared a laugh.

“Jesus,” Bill said. “Can’t believe we just did that.”

“I know.” Frankie giggled again, stood straight and scooped cum from her shoulder into her mouth before scrunching her face. “You need to start drinking more water.”

“I will. Hey, you gonna be alright?”

“Once nobody finds out about this, I will be... eventually.”

“Don’t worry.” Bill gathered the hose and washed his privates off, then took the bar of soap and lathered himself. “This guy’s a pro.”

“How do you even know someone that does that kind of stuff?”Frankie took the hose after and washed off his fluids.

“Eh, long story. Maybe another time.”

“Okay.”

Frankie stepped out of the shower, retrieved her towel from the rack and half-smiled.

“What is it, kid?”

“I understand now why my mom married you.” She tip-toed, pecked Bill, and then exited the bathroom. Bill shut the sliding door, shook his head and continued lathering.