Page 30 of Married with Mayhem

There I go again with my filthy mind. I blame the separation anxiety from my favorite vibrator.

My arms tighten around Monte’s pillow. It’s one of those real feather pillows with a solid heft to it. I breathe deeply, guiltily. I’d rather run topless down Fifth Avenue than ever admit that I’m deeply aroused by Monte’s pillow.

Shame burns my cheeks. Or maybe it’s desire. Whatever the case, I roll over and push the pillow between my legs, pretending it’s not a pillow. I pretend it’s Monte I’m straddling, his hard body that I’m grinding on amid the rise of the hot ache that promises to crest higher and higher. I mash my lips together to stifle the moans trying to escape.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have looked at my naked photo either.”

“Are you really sure of that, Sabrina?”

Thanks to the piggyback ride, I already know how it feels to wrap my legs around him. Exciting. Powerful. Overwhelming.

When it comes to getting myself off, I could beat any world record. I move my hips and my hand dives between my legs to apply pressure to the throbbing sweet spot. My muscles tighten. The crescendo builds and builds some more. All thoughts are blotted out. The wave crashes and carries me away. When I hear myself moan out loud, I clap a hand over my mouth and finish riding out the tremors in quivering silence.

Spent and satisfied, I sink to the mattress, feeling both glorious and depraved.

After all, I’ve just fucked someone else’s pillow.

It’s possible I’m the sickest person inhabiting the Lower East Side tonight.

But I’ll choose to look on the bright side. At least I’m tired enough to sleep now.

6

MONTE

Beaches aside, Long Island has always bored me. But Silvio’s home base is all the way out in Suffolk County so I had no choice but to make the drive today.

Now and then I look up at the brilliant summer sky, empty of all aircraft as we’re now on Day Three of the cyberattack fallout.

It’s also Day Three of Sabrina.

At least her suitcase showed up yesterday so she has clothing options other than BIG APPLE BOOTY shorts. I tell myself this is a huge relief. The way those shorts molded to her ass gave me far too many ideas.

Then again, who am I kidding?

I’ll have the same ideas no matter what she’s wearing.

When I left Gino’s, Sabrina had already happily colonized the same table she used all day yesterday to tap chaotically on her keyboard while working on her game designs.

My uneasiness about leaving her to fend for herself today was only lightened by my dad’s promise to watch out for her. Nico’s taking bets at the racetrack all day and I’m very aware that the daughter of Albie Barone might attract attention from the wrongpeople. Sabrina’s father earned a long list of enemies and the casualties from last year’s mafia war are still fresh in everyone’s mind.

My dad swears there’s no reason to worry but sometimes he’s too optimistic. He gives people the benefit of the doubt when he shouldn’t. The hard truth is that you can hand the shirt off your back to a snake but you’ll still get bitten because you’re dealing with a fucking snake and that’s what they do.

On the plus side, Sal Castelli is widely liked. It’s highly doubtful that anyone will invent a reason to make a scene inside his pizzeria.

My dad seems thrilled to keep Sabrina around for as long as possible. Ever since she strolled into Gino’s he has behaved as if she’s the long lost daughter he always wanted. He cooks for her, he waits on her, and he yells at me whenever I’m caught rolling my eyes, making a smart remark, or somehow failing to be Sabrina’s enthusiastic servant.

Yesterday was Sunday and Gino’s closed early. Sabrina had the idea for a family movie night. I didn’t think my dad would be eager to hang out upstairs in the apartment all evening but I was wrong.

Even Nico stuck around. The four of us sprawled on the living room furniture, eating pizza and wings and watchingReady Player One, which Sabrina felt compelled to narrate in case we were confused.

A few times I glanced at my dad, expecting to catch him dozing off. But he was always smiling and alert. Then I tried to recall the last time we all hung out together outside of Gino’s and couldn’t. By the time the movie was over, I felt a grudging level of gratitude for the girl who sat beside me on the couch and consumed massive quantities of sugar in between sharing everything she knew about video game Easter eggs.

When Sabrina finally leaves, my dad won’t be the only one sorry to see her go. Honestly, Sabrina is very demanding. She’s kind of immature. And she never quits talking until she’s won whatever argument she started. But there’s no way to deny that she’s highly entertaining. She’s also the sexiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on and my eyes have visited a lot of places. What’s more, she’s oblivious to her own appeal.

I nearly fell off the couch the other night when she casually referred to herself as a ‘geeky, big-breasted sidekick’. I think she also said something about genetic leftovers. She was completely serious, which is fucking baffling. Does the girl never look in the mirror? It’s moments like that where I have to wonder if she’s in touch with reality.

I could show her some reality. I’d give her some new experiences that would shut her up and keep her from walking straight. Not that I’ll be doing this, but it’s fun to think about.

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