Sexting the Don: An Age Gap, Mafia Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)

I’m grinning as I gun the engine of my Bentley, the car roaring to life.

I punch in Mandy’s address and note that it’s not the finest part of town. The thought of her innocence, still untouched despite her undeniable appeal, intrigues me as I weave through LA’s streets.

The city at night is an entirely different beast; lights streak past, casting shadows that flicker like the pulse of the city itself. Moving from the opulent Hollywood Hills down to her simpler neighborhood, the shift is stark.

The high-rise glamor gives way to the more modest, gritty parts of the city where life seems a little rougher.

As I drive, I think about our sizzling text exchange, how it quickly escalated, and the raw heat it sparked in me. Hell, I’m still half-hard.

It’s not just her looks that have me hooked, but her mystery. The leather of the steering wheel is cool beneath my grip, anticipation buzzing in my mind.

As I draw closer to her place, readiness takes over. I’m used to controlling, to getting what I desire, but Mandy promises something more—a challenge, an enigma to unravel.

Tonight could very well redefine the game.

I park down the street, taking in the lower middle-class vibe of the neighborhood. The houses are older, each carrying the weight of years of neglect, and her parents’ place fits right in—old and crying out for repairs.

The garage beneath her apartment is cramped, hinting at the modest space above.

Stepping out of my car, I approach the house. Dogs bark in the distance, and I can hear the drone of a police siren from somewhere nearby.

I don’t like the scene one bit. This is no place for a woman like Mandy.

I approach her apartment, glancing into the interior of the house. It looks just as rundown inside as the exterior would suggest. It’s strange; I barely know the woman, but all the same, I can’t ignore the urge I feel to take her from this place.

There’s a set of stairs that leads to the room above the garage. I go up and knock on the door.

She opens the door quickly, and the nervousness in her eyes is almost endearing. She’s freshened up for my arrival, dressed simply in a tank top and shorts, her hair casually piled on her head, looking effortlessly stunning.

“Hey.”

She seems nervous but in an excited way. The sight of her causes my heart to pound, my gaze sweeping along her toned legs, lingering on her breasts. I’d suspected a killer body was hidden under her black server’s uniform, and I was right. It’s one thing to see it in a picture but a whole other thing to see it in person.

“Evening.” It takes all the restraint I have not to pounce on her like a wild animal, to devour her on the spot.

“You want to come in?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

She steps aside, sweeping her hand toward the interior of her apartment with a warm awkwardness.

Mandy closes the door behind me and turns the lock with a soft click. I glance down, taking in the sight of her perfect, round ass. My cock pulses to life.

“Sorry for the state of the place,” she says. “I don’t really have many guests over.”

I’m met with exactly what I expected—a single room sparsely furnished, with just the essentials and a door that likely leads to a small bathroom.

But the interior of her apartment is the last thing I’m interested in.

The moment she faces me again, I don’t hesitate. I close the distance between us in two strides, my hands finding her waist as I pull her close and capture her lips with mine. The kiss is firm, intentional, as I press her back against the door, my hands roaming over her body to feel every curve and edge of her form.

She stiffens slightly at the intensity, her hesitation evident. But as I soften the kiss, giving her a moment to adjust, she begins to melt against me. Her hands tentatively rise to my shoulders, then thread into my hair, pulling me closer. The initial uncertainty fades, giving way to a growing eagerness that matches the heat of my touch.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I remember,” I speak against her lips, my voice low and husky.

The compliment seems to bolster her confidence, and a shy smile plays on her lips as she responds, her breath shaky but warm against my face.

“I was so nervous waiting for you,” she admits, her voice a whisper that sends a thrill through me. Her honesty and the raw openness in her admission are compelling.

“I wanted this to be perfect,” she continues, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

“It is,” I assure her, my hand cradling her face gently, thumb brushing her cheek. The touch seems to calm her, and she leans into my palm, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

Encouraged by her response, I deepen the kiss, exploring her mouth with a careful passion that earns a soft moan from her. My hands slide from her back to her hips, pulling her tighter against me, against my hardness. I can feel her heartbeat racing through the thin fabric of her top and it matches the pounding of my own.

As the kiss breaks, we both catch our breath. She looks up at me, a mix of desire and a bit of awe in her eyes.

“Enzo,” she breathes out, her voice laden with a mix of emotion and desire.

I grin. “That’s Mr. Martelli.”

Her eyes flash, a smile playing on her lips. “Mr. Martelli,” she echoes.

I lift her chin gently, my gaze locking with hers. “Let me show you how good this can be,” I say, offering her not just the heat of my body but the promise of an experience that transcends it. Her nod, slight but certain, permits me to continue exploring the world she’s opened up to me tonight.

As the tension between us escalates, our kisses become deeper and more fervent. I explore the contours of her body with my hands, each touch sparking a current that seems to pull us even closer. Mandy’s hands are on me as well, tentative at first but growing bolder by the moment, tracing the muscles of my back and shoulders.

Our breathing grows heavy, punctuated by the soft sounds of our lips meeting and parting, a rhythm that syncs with the racing of our hearts. With every kiss, we press closer, the space between us diminishing until there’s no room left for anything but the heat we generate together.

Mandy’s fingers fumble slightly with the hem of my shirt; her movements are hurried by nervousness and desire. I catch her hands in mine, steadying them. Smiling reassuringly, I lift my arms, allowing her to pull the shirt over my head. Her eyes roam over my chest, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

Encouraged by her reaction, I take control, moving my hands to the edge of her tank top.

‘It’s all right,’ I whisper firmly, my voice a low rumble near her ear, eliciting a shiver from her that thrills me. She nods, a silent agreement hanging between us as I remove her top, unveiling the soft glow of her skin under the apartment’s dim lights.

Her shorts and panties are next, followed by my own clothing. Each piece discarded, each layer peeled away, brings us closer to the raw, real connection simmering between us. The cool air of the room momentarily kisses our skin, but the chill quickly dissolves under the heat of our bodies pressed together.

As our exploration deepens, each touch, each kiss, binds us tighter. The outside world fades, leaving only the electric sensations sparking between us. Mandy’s skin is soft beneath my fingertips, her reactions guiding me, silently communicating her needs.

My touches grow more deliberate, tracing the contours of her body with precision. I’m fully attuned to her every gasp and shudder, using them to navigate her desires. I run my fingers down her stomach, pausing as I near the center of her excitement.

She bites her lip, her eyes locked with mine, wide with anticipation and trust. Gradually, I explore further. Mandy’s breath catches, her body tensing and then relaxing as I discover the rhythm that transforms her soft sighs into deep moans.

The room fills with the sound of her breaths quickening, the murmurs of pleasure escaping her lips growing louder. Her hands grip me tightly, fingers digging into my skin, grounding herself in the overwhelming sensations. I press on, determined to focus solely on her pleasure, driving her to the brink and beyond.

Her pussy is soaked, the sensation of her wetness urging me on. I spread her lips, teasing her clit.

“Is this how you touched yourself?” I growl into her ear. She nods, her eyes winced shut.

“And did you finger yourself, like I asked?”

Mandy takes in one deep breath, then another before shaking her head.

“Bad girl. Let me show you what I had in mind.”

With that, I slip my fingers inside, her tight, wet walls gripping me. She bucks hard against my touch, her hips rocking back and forth as I hold her up.

“Have you ever had a man like this inside you before?” I ask.

“No … never.”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So good. So fucking good.”

I grin. My cock’s hard as steel, and I want nothing more than to bend her over and fill her full.

But not quite yet.

“Come for me,” I urge, my fingers slipping in and out of her wet warmth. “Come for me right now.”

Her body begins to quiver, a crescendo of tension and release building within. With a few more calculated, careful movements, she arches against me, a prolonged moan escaping her as she climaxes. Her eyes flutter shut, and we bask in the aftermath for a moment, her chest heaving against mine, our breaths mingling in the stillness.

After her climax, there’s a playful, intense energy. She meets my gaze, a mix of satisfaction and mischief dancing in her eyes. ‘That was …’ she begins, struggling to find words.

‘Only the beginning,’ I assert, my voice steady and commanding. A smile tugs at her lips.

‘I suppose you have more surprises in store?’ she teases, her body still resonating with the intensity of our encounter.

‘Perhaps,’ I reply with a smirk. ‘You’ll have to find out.’

With that, I scoop her into my arms and carry her to the bed. She fits perfectly in my grasp, exhilarating and right. I lay her down gently on the soft sheets, our eyes locked, filled with mutual anticipation.

I lean in for another deep kiss, conveying more than words ever could. As our mouths part, I hover over her, studying her flushed face and bright eyes.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask, giving her a moment to be clear that this is what she wants, respecting her choice despite my dominant nature.

Her gaze is steady, certain.

‘Yes,’ she answers, her voice a whisper of readiness.