Signor Ferrari

As Rick Blaine and his steady girlfriend (at least for this week) Yvonne LeBeau slowly made their way through the crowded night club heading for a table reserved for them, Rick spied Signor Ferrai, another owner of a night club, The Blue Parrot, sitting at a table near the bar. The rotund bald man was wearing a white suit with a florid silk tie. Seated next to him was his housekeeper Amira. The woman was covered in all black from head to foot. She wore the long abaya robe with a hijab covering her head and face. Only her eyes and hands were visible.

"Hello, Ferrai," Rick said as he approached the man. Ferrai tilted his head, preparing to reply, but Rick cut him off with, "Before you begin, my night club is not for sale and Sam is not for sale."

Ferrai responded with his trademarked bass bellow of a laugh. After his belly had stopped bouncing, he said, "Fair enough, and in the same spirit of things, let me just say that I know this month's shipment of cigarettes were short but I will make it up to you next month."

"That's what you said last month about the Scotch," Rick replied.

"Breakage, my boy, breakage," Ferrari answered. Then his jovial manner suddenly shifted into serious. "The reason I came over here is because I have a business opportunity that I think you might find interesting."

Ferrari did not invite Rick to sit down, because Ferrari knew that Rick had a policy to never sit with the customers. Oh, he broke the rule from time-to-time, of course, but the owner of The Blue Parrot was trying to 'play up' to the owner of Rick's Cafe' Americain by observing protocol.

"What kind of business opportunity?" Rick asked as his hand slipped inside his white dinner jacket for his cigarette case.

There was a twinkle in Ferrai's eyes. Looked like Rick was already nibbling at the bait. Turning his head quickly to the left and right in an exaggerated gesture, he answered, "Not something we can discuss in public. Why don't you and your lady," he turned his gaze to Yvonne, "Whom I must apologize to for not addressing her earlier. Sometimes my obsession with business impairs my manners."

"Why don't my lady and I what?" Rick asked as he lit up a cigarette.

The corners of Ferrai's lips twitched. Yes. Definitely nibbling. "Ah," he said as if he had truly lost his train of thought. "Why don't you come over for coffee say... the day after tomorrow?" He suggested a time and Rick nodded his agreement. Then Rick excused himself and Yvonne.

"Of course, my boy, of course. I know what it is like to run a busy night club," Ferrai again surveyed the room. "Not as busy as yours, however."

Rick made eye contact with Ferrai's house keeper and brought his hands towards each other, finger-tips touching, and bowed. She returned the gesture.

"Why did you that?" Yvonne asked from the corner of her mouth when she and Rick walked away side-by-side.

"Do what?" Rick asked.

"Bow to that woman?" she still looked straight ahead, so it would appear to others that they were not having a conversation.

"His housekeeper?" Rick glanced back over his shoulder to see Ferrai and Amira, the housekeeper, swaying their upper bodies from side-to-side as the band did their version of the Carioca. "I was just being polite. Like Signor Ferrai is always polite to Sam."

"Signor Ferrai wants Sam," Yvonne retorted, referring to the owner of The Blue Parrot's frequent attempts to hire him for his own nightclub. "Do you want his housekeeper?"

Rick clasped the back of Yvonne's neck. "Explain to me again why I do not strangle you now?"

***** ***** *****

Later that evening, as Signor Ferrai lay in his king-size bed in his silk pajamas, there was a gentle tap on the door immediately followed by it being open. Amira, still wearing her daytime attire, entered with her employee's nightly glass of warm milk. He accepted it with his usual smile and words of thank you.

At the door, before exiting for her own bedroom, she paused to look back at him. "Will there be anything else, Signor Ferrai? Should I remove my veil?"

The corpulent Ferrai looked over at her, startled, the glass of milk still touching his lips. 'Removing her veil' was a code they had developed between themselves. Ferrai frequently would tell her to do so. But only on extremely rare occasions had she suggested it herself. "Yes!" he replied in that loud, boisterous voice of his. "Removing your veil would be just the thing right now."

As Ferrai leaned over to place the nearly full glass of milk onto the nightstand, Amira approached the bed. He flipped the covers back and sat up, scooting towards the headboard to lean against it. Amira slid out of her flat pumps and locked eyes with her employer. She slowly undid the part of the hijab that was wrapped across her face, letting it fall away to reveal her features. Even at forty, she was a stunning woman. Large, smoldering dark eyes, a wide mouth with a full set of lips, high cheek bones. There were small laughlines at the corners of her eyes, and under her chin was perhaps not as firm as she would have liked, but all-in-all, she had the classic beauty one might associate with Cleopatra.

Lifting the hem of her abaya a couple of inches to give herself more freedom of movement, she climbed up on the bed and settled in between Ferrai's wide-spread legs. She placed her right hand directly over his crotch, massaging the area. Her skillful fingers played with his genitalia through the smooth fabric of his pajamas. A smile spread across her face when she felt him responding, and by the time she had slipped her hand inside the fly and hauled his cock out, he was already half hard. She knelt there, her right hand unhurriedly stroking his dick, her left hand cradling this testicles still inside his p.j.s.

Once she was satisfied that he was good and hard, she released his private parts to open the drawstring of his sleepwear. With a series of grunts, Ferrai lifted his hips so that Amira could pull his bottoms down around his knees. Next, she rearranged herself, backing away slightly before placing an open hand on the bed on each side of his thighs. Looking into his eyes once more, she slowly lowered her head, her lips drifting apart. Ferrai was all smiles as Amira mouth engulfed the head of his dick. She did not pause, but continued her descent uninterrupted. Her eyes bulged slightly when the wide cockhead entered her throat, although that did not delay the leisurely lowering of her head, either. That movement did not cease until her chin was touching his balls.

Holding him inside her throat while still staring into his eyes, she swallowed several times. Ferrai moaned at that, her gulping causing her throat to contract and squeeze his cock. After several seconds, she lifted her head, the ascent just as lingering as the descent. Without pausing at the top, she reversed directions to throat him once more.

This went on uninterrupted for the next fifteen minutes. Amira tirelessly lifting and lowering her head, taking him in and out of her throat, all the while her eyes never leaving his. When Ferrai squirmed around under her, she understood and began going faster. Ferrai reached down, grabbing the bobbing, hijab covered head on the sides. His breathing became labored and he began groaning, almost whimpered.

Amira responded by lifting and lowering her head even faster, making loud gagging noises as she no longer took the time to gently slide the head of his cock into her throat.

"STO VENENDOD!" the middle-aged fat man cried out into the night, his whole body of blubber shaking. Amira continued her furious head-nodding, milking him with her lips and throat muscles as she gave him his release.

As his orgasm subsided, he gripped her head tightly, forcing to her to stop. But she did not lift her head. She let him remain buried down her food-pipe until he had totally finished. She blinked several times. Groaned. Her air was running out. She shifted around. Redistributed her weight. She needed to breathe. Her dusky skin reddened. The veins in her neck stuck out. She desperately needed to breathe. Her upper body convulsed as she tried to control her gag reflect. Her eyes were wide with a **** look in them.

"Arrck!" she cried out when at last Ferrai snatched her head up and his cock slid out of her mouth. She snapped back into an upright kneeling position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. Finally she was able to function again and began to pull his pajama bottom back in place.

Ferrai was unaware of Amira's struggles, he had been facing problems of his own. It had felt like his soul had left his body. His spirit fleeing through the shooting sperm. His life-**** had been drained along with his balls.

It was only now that he was returning from the astral plane. He became aware that he was gasping for air and that Amira was doing something between his legs. 'Of course,' he realized and arched his back so that she could pull the bottoms of his sleeping attire back up to his waist. Still gasping, he panted, "That... that was..."

Leaning all the way forward, she placed her index finger to his lips. "Shhh, I know. I know. Now you need to sleep."

He was too exhausted to reply. By the time she had crawled out of bed and slipped back into her flat pumps, her employer was already snoring. She covered him with the sheet and kissed the top of his smooth dome. "Good night, Bambino."