Butterflies And Bullets

All characters are over the age of eighteen.

Hello again. This is my entry for the 2024 Crime and Punishment story event. Just a heads up, this story features people not "forsaking all others". If that's not your bag, I recommend you try another story.

Butterflies and Bullets

Anthony Sarducci wasn't a bright guy. The problem was that he was just smart enough to understand that he wasn't very smart. He did not have the benefit of

blissful

ignorance.

Even more sadly, the men that worked security with him at the house, knew it as well and had dubbed him, "Gump". Being just another Tony in an Italian family meant he was always saddled with some nickname. Because if you were to yell, "Hey Tony!" at a family reunion, enough heads would pop up to make it look like a colony of meerkats.

Being called Gump though, really stung. But he'd learned over time that getting upset about it would only egg them on more, so he just grinned and bore it. But he'd sworn more than once that if he ever got within arm's reach of that Zemeckis guy, he'd put his lights out for sure.

But, for all his lack of mental acuity, he had a decent amount of common sense, and one thing common sense is good for, is spotting trouble. And just then trouble was about to head down the stairs toward him.

Anthony stood at the front door of his boss's house. That was his spot; he was the front door guy in the big mansion. Tall and handsome, he often put people at ease with his smile and demeanor, which made him perfect for greeting guests. Under his left arm was a 40 caliber Smith and Wesson, and it wasn't there for show. Anthony could drive nails with it. Which also made him perfect for greeting anyone who

wasn't

a guest.

Anthony was scanning the front of the house through the bullet-resistant glass door when he heard the unmistakable sound of high heels walking across tile flooring. He turned and looked up the marble stairs to find the boss's wife smiling down at him. "Good morning, Anthony." she purred at him with a wide smile. Part of Anthony melted whenever he saw Andrea Covini. If you look up the words "trophy wife" in the dictionary, this broad's picture is there, he'd always thought.

With her hand on the banister, she strode down the stairs like the queen of all she surveyed. She was gorgeous. The dark auburn hair that spilled over her shoulders looked like she'd just stepped out of the hairdresser's salon. Her legs were damn near a national treasure, and she had hips and tits to make the Pope weep for joy. Her face was perfectly made up and she looked smoking hot in a tight green dress that ended mid-thigh.

He'd heard his boss bitching one night about how much she spent monthly to look this good at forty-two years old, and it was a staggering sum. The cost of make-up, spa treatments, clothes, shoes, jewelry, workout equipment, hair, nails, and dozens of other details added to more than half of what Anthony earned in a year.

"He-hello, Mrs. Covini, How are you today?"

She stepped off the bottom step, walked up to him, and put her hand on his chest. "Anthony, how many times have I told you to call me, Andrea?" she said with a sly smile.

Anthony blushed a bit. "A zillion times, ma'am. But ... you know how Mr. Covini is about familiarities." His mouth stumbled over the word.

"Smart man," a deep male voice said from behind them. They both turned to find Dante Covini smiling from the next room. Andrea smiled broadly at her husband. He seemed to be the antithesis of the classic middle-aged Italian man. He was tall and lean, broad in the shoulders and narrow at the waist. A fine handsome picture of a mature man. His hair was black and curly but shot with grey. A well-trimmed mustache and goatee framed his smile nicely.

Andrea walked up and kissed her husband who slid his hand around her waist. He looked down at her body. Her dress was stunning with matching heels. Her purse hung from her elbow.

"Where are you headed off to, dressed for one of Carmine's gala parties?" Dante asked seriously.

Andrea smiled sweetly. "Just out for coffee."

Dante looked at her incredulously. "Coffee, again? I got a full-time cook in the kitchen, with a ten-thousand-dollar cappuccino machine, imported from fucking France, and you gotta go

out

for coffee?"

His beautiful wife shrugged her shoulders and grinned coyly. "I use the machine sometimes, but I like ordering from the menu. I always get something different. I never know until I get there."

Dante threw his hands up. "Fine. Go."

She slid up and kissed his chin. "You could take me there if you'd like." Her voice was low and suggestive.

Dante smiled. "Sorry babe, I gotta meet with the guys from Staten Island in a few. Maybe next time."

Andrea shrugged and turned for the door. "You keep saying that and you're gonna drive me into the arms of another man." It was her frequent response to Dante begging off when she asked him to do something with her. She shot an alluring look at Anthony who looked a little alarmed at the attention.

Dante watched her walk out to her Jaguar and get in. He looked over at Anthony. "She goes out for coffee a lot, doesn't she?"

Anthony thought for a moment before answering. "Umm... yeah, Mr. Covini, four or five times a week."

Dante thought for a few moments, as he watched Andrea's taillights disappear down the drive. "Anthony, would you like to get away from the front door for a while?"

The big man smiled. "Oh yeah, that would be great. I get bored he ..."

Dante stopped him with an upraised finger. He knew her favorite coffee chain was Apollo's based on the dozens of cups he'd seen the housekeeper throw away. "The closest Apollo's is over on 10th Avenue. Take the green SUV that the cook uses for shopping and go find my wife there, but don't let her see you. See if she's meeting anyone. Call me when you have an eye on her."

"Okay, Mr. Covini."

***

"Here you go, ma'am," the barista said as the young woman handed Andrea the tall latte.

She smiled and handed the girl her credit card, but the girl held up her hand. "It's already been paid for," the barista said.

Her perfect eyebrows went up. "Really? By who?"

The girl looked around and pointed at a table. "That guy. He was at the other register."

Andrea stepped away from the counter to let the next customer step up and looked at the man the barista had pointed out. It wasn't the first time that a stranger had bought her a drink, but usually they were attempting eye contact afterward. This man was looking down at a tablet in his left hand as he sipped his coffee.

He looked tall, with a great head of thick dark hair and dark-framed glasses. She walked towards him and before she got too close, realized that he was quite handsome. "Holy cow, it's Clark Kent," she chuckled.

She walked up to the table and cleared her throat. The man looked up at her and smiled. "Can I help you?"

Andrea shifted uncomfortably and spoke, "I just wanted to thank you for paying for my coffee. It was very thoughtful."

The man appeared surprised. "Oh, that's okay. The customer before me paid for mine and I was just paying it forward."

Now Andrea looked surprised. "Then, I just broke the chain of generosity." She covered her mouth and giggled. "I feel awful."

The man looked around the cafe. "Would you like to sit down? I don't see any open tables left."

Andrea looked and found the man was right. "Yes, thank you." She pulled her chair out, sat down, and crossed her right leg over her left. She smoothed her skirt down over her tanned legs.

"You can just do it next time and start the chain all over again." The man smiled and then looked at her curiously. "I've seen you in here before," the man said. He extended his hand. "I'm Randall."

She reached and shook the man's hand. "Andrea."

***

Out on the street, Anthony glanced in through the window near the wall. He had a good view of Mrs. Covini and in a moment, had Mr. Covini on the phone.

"Is she with anyone?" the deep voice on the phone said.

"Yeah, boss. She's sittin' with a guy, but I don't think she knows him. They just shook hands like they were just meetin'. The place is pretty packed."

Dante thought for a minute. "Anthony, is Mrs. Covini smiling?" He knew his wife. If she was flirting, then she was smiling.

Anthony replied immediately. "No boss, the guy isn't even lookin' at her. He's got his nose in one of them oversized cell phones."

Satisfied, Dante sighed. "Okay Anthony, c'mon home. I'll talk to Paulie about moving you guys around more. I can't have my security team bored out of their skulls."

Anthony smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Covini."

***

Andrea sighed as her new table companion returned to his tablet. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Randall had a curious mix of boyish good looks and a working man's physique. More Christopher Reeve than Henry Cavill, she thought. And what bothered her the most was that he was fucking ignoring her. That was something she was

not

used to. She hated it.

"So, umm ... you mentioned you've seen me before. You come here a lot?" she said blowing across her cup. Randall looked up at her. "Yes, I work at the university and live within walking distance. This place is a nice way to be around other people and not really be noticed. Just blend into the urban crowd."

Andrea nodded with a dazzling smile. "Oh, I totally agree."

Randall couldn't contain himself and laughed out loud. Her eyebrows lowered, and she frowned deeply. "Did I say something funny?"

Randall smiled and shrugged. "Well, no, and then at the same time, yes."

"Explain yourself, please," Andrea replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

The man shrugged. "Well, it's just that you couldn't blend in anywhere." Andrea's mouth opened to respond but didn't get the chance. "For one, you are jaw-droppingly attractive, dressed in designer clothes and tens of thousands of dollars in jewelry." He nodded down to her left hand where her engagement ring stood out next to her wedding band. The diamond on the former was five karats if it was one.

She was quite taken aback. She'd just received a very nice compliment from a total stranger, who spoke it as if he wasn't

trying

to compliment her, just stating facts. Most people are too cowed by her husband to do more than say she looked very nice. Jaw-droppingly attractive. She liked that. But still, he'd laughed at her. "Thank you for the compliment, sir," she said with a frown.

The man nodded and then blew her mind by returning his attention to that damned tablet. She'd had enough. If she wanted to be ignored, she'd have stayed home. She rose and picked up her bag and coffee. "Well, thank you again for the coffee. Have a

good

day," she said tersely.

"You too," the man said without looking back at her. She walked out of the store completely furious. Her heels clacked on the tile as she strode out. Randall watched her from the corner of his eye and chuckled softly.

"

This is never going to work. You know that don't you?

" Said a disembodied female voice in his left ear.

He chuckled again. "Oh ye, of little faith."

***

Two days later, Andrea stepped into the coffee shop and her eyes found him quickly. His inattention to her coupled with the beautiful compliment had driven her crazy for the rest of that day. She had forced herself

not

to go for coffee the

next day

, just to try and put him out of her mind.

There was something strange about him, though, she thought. She ordered and received her iced mocha and when she turned for the door, he was smiling at her from his table. She'd told herself that if he were there, she would walk right past him without even acknowledging his presence. But that smile changed everything.

She shouldered her bag and walked slowly to his table, upon which was a leather satchel and a big textbook. "It's lovely to see you again," he rose as he spoke. He gestured to the chair opposite him. "Would you join me?"

Again, her pride told her to ignore him and head for the door, but she surprised herself when she smiled back and sat down. He looked down at her and openly admired the silk blouse and fluted skirt that ended well above her knees. Her white high heels emphasized her shapely figure.

"Wow, you look amazing," he said softly. Despite herself, Andrea felt herself blush. His reaction to her was so opposite to their last meeting that she warmed to him immediately.

"Well, thank you." She found herself admiring him as well. Dressed in dark blue slacks with a long-sleeved dress shirt. It was open at the collar and his cuffs were rolled twice. His forearms looked muscular. A tan sports coat lay over the back of another chair.

She set her bag on the table and sipped her coffee, not knowing what to say. She looked down at the book in front of him. "Whatcha reading?" she asked, looking over her cup at him.

Randall tore his eyes off the beautiful brunette and looked down at his book. "This? It's an entomology textbook. I teach at the university."

Her curiosity was piqued, and her eyebrows went up. "Bugs, huh?"

He smiled and removed his glasses. Andrea finally noticed his crystal blue eyes. "Too gross?"

Andrea laughed. "No, not at all. I loved them as a kid. I used to bring praying mantis' into the house to scare my mother."

Randall laughed "Yeah. I love them all, but lepidoptery is my real passion. I don't ..."

"Butterflies!" Andrea exclaimed, smiling wildly at him. "I

love

butterflies! I have a whole garden devoted to them. It's my favorite place in the whole world!"

Randall smiled back. "That's wonderful. I'd like to see that."

Andrea covered her mouth and stifled a laugh. "I doubt that would go over well with my husband. 'Hello dear, I've brought a handsome stranger home to see my garden.'"

It wasn't until she saw his eyebrows raise, that she realized what she'd said, and then blushed crazily.

He looked down and said, "Thank

you

for the compliment." He looked up and their eyes met. For too long maybe.

"So what butterfly is your favorite?" Randall asked, cutting the awkward silence.

"Umm ... the Queen Alexandria Birdwing," she said softly.

Randal sat back, impressed. "A very beautiful animal. And poisonous too. What does that say about you, I wonder?"

Andrea blushed again. "I have a tattoo of one, here on my..." She looked down at her thigh and chuckled. "In a place I can't show you."

His grin sent shivers down her spine. "That's a shame. I should like to see

it

as well."

A thought of the handsome man shot through her mind, the image of his head between her legs laying kisses on her tattoo woke her like a cold splash of water. She looked at her watch. "Is that the time? I'm sorry, I should be going."

The man stood and smiled. "It was very nice talking with you, Andrea. I hope we can do it again sometime."

She rose to her feet nervously and collected her bag and coffee. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you around."

"That would be nice," Randall said smiling. Their eyes met one last time. His blue eyes followed her graceful form as she departed, and his blue eyes stayed in her mind for some time afterward.

***

Dante leaned his head back on his chair and moaned softly. Here, he thought, was one upside to his wife's coffee habit. He looked down at Regina as her wet mouth slid up and down on his cock. Not only was she a terrific cook, but a world-class cocksucker as well. He admired her Rubenesque figure kneeling to the right of his grand desk and wished desperately he could tap that big ass. But alas, the woman was married. The occasional blow job was as far as she was willing to bend her marriage vows.

He'd tried pushing the issue once, but she told him under no uncertain terms that she would quit her position if he did so. He was smart enough to realize the value of a cook who understood the meaning of "al dente" and relented.

He pushed his hands into her black hair and moaned her name. "Regina, that feels wonderful." She looked up at him with bright eyes. Her tongue slathered the underside of his cock, and she sucked enthusiastically. Her hand stroked his length whenever she lifted her head, which was slick with her spit and his pre-cum. He loved seeing the pretty Latina lick it off his cockhead with a smile.

Regina was masterful at making the pleasure last but finally, she settled into a fast rhythm, sucking forcefully and he held her head as he blasted his cum down her throat. She sucked until she was sure she'd gotten every drop. Gasping, Dante collapsed back into his chair.

Regina stood and straightened her uniform and apron. She tried to step away, but Dante stopped her. "Wait," he croaked. He reached into his desk drawer, pulled out some bills, and folded them in half with his fingers. He slipped them into the pocket of her apron.

"Thank you, Regina. Your work ... is always terrific," he said with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Covini," she said as she wiped the sides of her mouth with her fingertips. With a lascivious grin, she licked her fingers as she left the room.

***

Anthony watched Regina leave Mr. Covini's office. He'd been crushing on Regina for a long time and was jealous of the extra attention the boss received. His every effort to get anywhere with the busty brunette had been shut down quickly. Then he saw her pull the folded cash from her apron pocket. She smiled as she counted off the bills. Before Anthony could think further about it, the front door opened.

Ashamed of being surprised, he was relieved that it was just Andrea. "Hi, Anthony. Miss me?" she asked happily. Unable to formulate an answer quickly he just watched her fine ass bounce up the stairs.

She glanced down and smiled at the young guard as she arrived at the landing. She paused to lament her situation for a few moments. If her husband wasn't so afraid to leave the safety of his home and grounds, she might get an opportunity to give that big hunk the fucking she'd always wanted to. He might be a little lacking between the ears, but his fit body and boyish smile had always made her think of naughtiness.

She walked into her room and locked the door. If someone had been near her door a few minutes later, they would have heard an electronic buzzing sound and her grateful moans.

***

Andrea smiled when she walked into the coffee shop the next day. Randall sat at a different table with his head in a textbook, writing on a legal pad. She couldn't resist running her fingers over his broad shoulders as she passed him. His smile made her feel wonderful.

"Lovely to see you again, Randall." She stopped and looked at him. "Randall. It seems so formal. Aren't you ever just Randy?" Her seductive look and smile left no doubt about her meaning.

The big man stood. Again, the Clark Kent comparison seemed appropriate to her. There were muscles beneath that pressed shirt, she knew it. She had an incredible urge to snatch his glasses off.

Their eyes met. "More and more, lately." The intensity of his gaze left little doubt about

his

meaning. "I haven't gotten my coffee yet; can I get one for you?"

Andrea smiled. "A vanilla latte, with whipped cream, please."

When they sat down at the table, he smiled at her. "I've brought something for you." She sat her cup down, intrigued. Randall picked up his satchel from the other chair and removed a hardcover book from it. He handed it to her. It was very large with a butterfly's wing on the cover.

Fine Lines: Vladimir Nabokov's Scientific Art

, she read. "Nabokov. Wasn't he the guy who wrote the naughty story about the young girl and the old man?"