Mafia Kings: Massimo: Dark Mafia Romance Series #3

As it was, I didn’t hear the end of it, anyway.

We’d finished breakfast and were on our way to our next errand when she asked, “So… how big is it?”

“Like I said, too big for you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Do some women not like it? Does it, like, not even fit inside them?”

“Would you please shut the FUCK UP.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna find out sooner or later, even if I have to barge in on you while you’re taking a shower. Although the water’s so fucking cold, I’m sure there’ll be shrinkage.”

She spoke mostly in Italian, so the sentence was, “Sono sicuro che ci sarà qualche shrinkage.”

Just like ‘boomer,’ I didn’t recognize the English word.

“…shrinkage?”

“You know – shrinkage.” She altered her voice as though imitating a frantic man. “‘I just got back from swimming in the pool, Jerry, and the water was cold. There was significant shrinkage – like a frightened turtle!’”

“Who’s Jerry?”

She stared at me like I’d said I’d come from the lost city of Atlantis. “Seinfeld?! Kramer?! Elaine?! George Costanza?!”

“I have no idea who any of those people are.”

“It’s a fuckin’ television show, dude! One of the most famous ones ever!”

“When was it on?”

“I don’t know – like, the 1990s or something.”

“If it was the early 1990s, that was before I was born,” I said scornfully.

“Yeah, well, it was before I was born, too, and I’ve still seen it.”

“That’s because you like to waste your time.”

“How dare you,” she said in a deadpan voice.

I opened the door to a shop. “In here.”

The place was a clothing store. During the winter, it transformed into a ski shop with cold-weather attire – ski jackets, bibs, overalls, and parkas. During the summer, though, it stocked up on clothes for hiking in the mountains.

“Um…” Lucia said, staring around at the racks of clothing.

“What?”

“…I’m good. I don’t need anything.”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

“You can’t go walking around the forest dressed in designer clothes. Especially in those shoes. One of those heels is going to break any second.”

“Well, they’re not made for freakin’ cobblestone,” she said contemptuously.

“And they’re really not made for dirt paths in the woods.”

“…fine… whatever,” she muttered.

An older woman with rosy cheeks and blonde braids came over. She wore jeans and a simple sweatshirt with ‘Padola Ski’ on it. “Hello, how can I help you?”

“We need clothes for her,” I said. “And boots.”

“What size?” the woman asked Lucia.

“35,” she replied – which was the European size and very small. The average Italian woman’s shoe size ranged from 38 to 42.

The woman laughed. “I think we might have something in the junior section.”

“KIDS’ shoes?!” Lucia exclaimed in disbelief.

“Just go with it,” I ordered.

She glared at me, then followed the woman to the children’s shoe aisle.

After some complaining – at which point I reminded her that she was going to wear them for a week at most and could throw them away after that – she settled on some girl’s brown hiking boots.

“We’re also going to need three or four days’ worth of clothes,” I told the woman.

“Everything?” she asked. “Socks, underwear – ”

“Everything.”

“I’m fine with what I’ve got on,” Lucia snapped.

“Maybe today, but six days from now?”

“You just said three or four days!”

“Of outfits. We could be here for a couple of weeks.”

Lucia glared at me, then turned to the saleslady and grumbled, “Alright, what about underwear?”

“We don’t have much,” the woman said as she pointed to a rack. “Just these – ”

“GRANNY PANTIES?!” Lucia yelled. “Oh HELL no!”

“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to, but at least get them,” I snapped.

“What about you?” she challenged me. “You ever gonna change your boxers?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve got more back at the house.”

“Why didn’t you change them this morning, then?”

“Because a very annoying person was in the room with me.”

Lucia smirked as she remembered. “…oh yeah… okay, fine, whatever, but I’m not wearing them unless it’s the end of the world.”

“Better to have them and not need them, than need them and not have them.”

“Better to not wear them at all,” she retorted.

She picked out three sports bras, four t-shirts, four long-sleeve tops made of cotton, two yoga pants, a package of socks, and an insulated jacket that could withstand both 50-degree nights and rainfall.

And the granny panties.

I also got a small JanSport backpack for her to carry all of that in, along with two five-gallon containers for water and some canteens.

While I was gathering the other supplies, she came out of the dressing room wearing the boots, black yoga pants, and a light blue top.

She looked different from ‘high fashion’ Lucia – but she still looked amazing. Everything was tight enough that it showed off her amazing ass.

“I kind of like this,” she said as she checked herself out in the mirror.

“You look very pretty,” the blonde woman complimented her.

“Thank you,” Lucia said, then looked at me and said teasingly, “Do I look pretty, Massimo?”

“…you look nice,” I grumbled.

“I guess that’s something,” she said drily, then turned to the woman. “Do you have anything for my hair? Scrunchies or clips?”

I paid the woman in cash. By the time we walked out, Lucia’s old clothes were inside a plastic bag, and her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

I couldn’t walk behind her. The view was too much. I had to make sure I stayed right next to her.

I really like ponytails. I think they’re sexy. My first girlfriend when I was a teenager wore a ponytail, and I kind of had a thing for them.

Watching the combination of Lucia’s hair bobbing along – and her gorgeous ass in yoga pants swaying back and forth as she walked – was way too much for me to handle.

I was gonna have to jerk off again when we got back to the house, I just knew it.