The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
18
her body. On the landing Sonny grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall into an 
empty bedroom. Her legs went weak as the door closed behind them. She felt Sonny’s 
mouth on hers, his lips tasting of burnt tobacco, bitter. She opened her mouth. At that 
moment she felt his hand come up beneath her bridesmaid’s gown, heard the rustle of 
material giving way, felt his large warm hand between her legs, ripping aside the satin 
panties to caress her vulva. She put her arms around his neck and hung there as he 
opened his trousers. Then he placed both hands beneath her bare buttocks and lifted 
her. She gave a little hop in the air so that both her legs were wrapped around his upper 
thighs. His tongue was in her mouth and she sucked on it. He gave a savage thrust that 
banged her head against the door. She felt something burning pass between her thighs. 
She let her right hand drop from his neck and reached down to guide him. Her hand 
closed around an enormous, blood-gorged pole of muscle. It pulsated in her hand like 
an animal and almost weeping with grateful ecstasy she pointed it into her own wet, 
turgid flesh. The thrust of its entering, the unbelievable pleasure made her gasp, brought 
her legs up almost around his neck, and then like a quiver, her body received the 
savage arrows of his lightning-like thrusts; innumerable, torturing; arching her pelvis 
higher and higher until for the first time in her life she reached a shattering climax, felt 
his hardness break and then the crawly flood of semen over her thighs. Slowly her legs 
relaxed from around his body, slid down until they reached the floor. They leaned 
against each other, out of breath. 
It might have been going on for some time but now they could hear the soft knocking on 
the door. Sonny quickly buttoned his trousers, meanwhile blocking the door so that it 
could not be opened. Lucy frantically smoothed down her pink gown, her eyes flickering, 
but the thing that had given her so much pleasure was hidden inside sober black cloth. 
Then they heard Tom Hagen’s voice, very low, “Sonny, you in there?” 
Sonny sighed with relief. He winked at Lucy. “Yeah, Tom, what is it?” 
Hagen’s voice, still low, said, “The Don wants you in his office. Now.” They could hear 
his footsteps as he walked away. Sonny waited for a few moments, gave Lucy a hard 
kiss on the lips, and then slipped out the door after Hagen. 
Lucy combed her hair. She checked her dress and pulled around her garter straps. Her 
body felt bruised, her lips pulpy and tender. She went out the door and though she felt 
the sticky wetness between her thighs she did not go to the bathroom to wash but ran 
straight on down the steps and into the garden. She took her seat at the bridal table next 
to Connie, who exclaimed petulantly, “Lucy, where were you? You look drunk. Stay 

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