Frank relaxes, then orders delivery

The young blonde was dozing softly when Frank gently rolled her off him and pulled a blanket over her. Smiling, he pulled his clothes on and left, driving the short distance to his house and putting the SUV in the garage.

It had been a fine day, he mused as he poured himself a drink. Beginning with the maid, then the two trophy wives, and finally two rounds with the little blonde nymph. He slumped into an easy chair and found 'The Sopranos', as always enjoying comparing his own experience as a gangster to that depicted on the screen.

The show didn't do a bad job, he thought, and captured several common mobster personality types very well. As usual he identified most closely with Silvio. Smarter than most, ruthless, and good with women. Although he'd have been better with the **** to help him Frank smiled. The episode included several lengthy scenes as Silvio's strip club, and Frank remembered his own joint, now undoubtedly in the hands of some fucking mook who was probably ruining it.

The thought brought back memories of dancers he'd used as casually as tissues, fucking them at will and without repercussion.

And that memory spurred thoughts of the last few days, and made his cock twitch.

"All the action you've been getting and you still want more?" he chuckled. "Well there's an answer for that." He picked up his phone and scrolled through the numbers he'd collected over the last few days, and pressed speed dial.

"Get here. My place. Fifteen minutes. No excuses," he texted, then settled down to wait.