The Italian Job

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“OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF”


Michael Caine's voice echoed around the inside of Cathy's head over and over again as she woke with a start. A fleeting moment of existential crisis as she snapped out of the dream and into reality; that peculiar but temporary feeling of confusion and vertigo before the human brain readjusts from rapid eye movement sleep to full consciousness.


She blinked her eyes several times as her subconscious went about its automatic routine, checking that the prerequisite number of limbs and digits were all still attached, and that all moving parts were still functioning within normal parameters. Cathy dabbed the back of her hand to her forehead, damping a smattering of beads of sweat that hung there. With a slight flush of embarrassment she realised that she could feel a certain moistness and warmth in her pubic region.


She glanced up at the television from her position, curled up on the sofa wearing her night-dress and gown - the late-night news had just started, she had obviously fallen asleep during the movies on the TV earlier. On the coffee table in front of her a tell-tale plate of crumbs revealed the last mortal remains of the cheese and crackers which had comprised her supper, and only a few dregs remained in the glass of Cabernet Sauvigon standing beside it.


Her cheeks reddened slightly as she recalled the vivid dream she had just woken from.....



…...............................................



Cathy had been Lorna, fashionably-dressed in brown leather mini-skirt and matching jacket with colour co-ordinated blouse and calf-length boots, square sunglasses and long blonde locks tumbling down over her shoulders, sitting behind the wheel of an extended-chassis black limousine driving from the exclusive Knightsbridge area through the centre of a swinging 1960's London.


On the pavements trendy young people rubbed shoulders with bowler-hatted pinstripe-suited businessmen and flower-bestrewn hippies as she steered the car through Piccadilly Square, its huge garish advertising signs displaying Cinzano Bianco, Coca-Cola, Player's Cigarettes, Wrigley's Gum and Skol Lager then on, turning back down Beak Street into a bustling Carnaby Street, its shops thronging with trend-setters. Lorna parked up outside Mary Quant's famous clothes shop, where she bought herself a new outfit before jumping back in the car.


Onwards she drove, through Regent Street, Oxford Street, through the teeming mass of traffic at Marble Arch and eventually to the less fashionable West London district of Hammersmith, pulling up outside the imposing and formidable gates of the notorious Wormwood Scrubs prison.


A doorway in the large gates opened to reveal Michael Caine, in the guise of Charlie Croker, blinking into the sunlight as he was released from his stretch behind those ominous walls. He hopped into the car alongside her and she drove the ageing automobile off, back towards Charlie's place in trendy Notting Hill in central London.


Then the dream had swirled, and there she was sitting at a large table in a plush riverside penthouse apartment overlooking the River Thames, half a mile away from the looming tower of Big Ben to the north on the other side of the river, and half a mile away from the famous chimneys of Battersea Power Station to the south. Sitting around the table were a dozen or more men, with emptied plates of Shepherd's Pie being cleared away, whilst all concerned drained glasses of champagne. Charlie stood and began to speak, introducing everyone to each other in turn. They were the team who were going to do 'The Job', an ambitious plot to steal $4 billion in gold bullion in Italy from under the noses of the Mafia themselves, smuggling it out in three Mini Cooper cars.


The team were a motley crew of mobsters, villains and even a rotund little old man with pink cheeks and small circular spectacles, who was apparently 'Peach' the computer expert.


Another swirl of dreamy clouds, then Lorna was alongside Charlie as he drove his Aston Martin DB4 convertible, followed by some of the boys in a pair of E-type Jaguars through the picturesque winding roads and mountainous passes of the Alps as they passed from France into Italy. The sound of Matt Munro singing 'On Days Like These' filled the air until suddenly they were ambushed by the Mafioso, held at gunpoint and had to watch helplessly as Charlie's beautiful car was pushed over the edge of the ravine by a bulldozer, tumbling over and over before finally bursting into flames, a single smouldering wheel rolling poetically from the fireball, soon to be followed into the ravine by the Jaguars.


Clouds swirled once more, then she had found herself sitting on the bed of an expensive looking hotel room, the sight of the historic buttresses of the Museo Egizio building betraying the hotel's location in the centre of Turin. Charlie was talking to her, his Cockney accent oozing charm.


“Right babe, I need you to do a little favour for me, know what I mean? You have to take care of my friends here while me and the boys go get the gold, savvy?”


Standing alongside Charlie by the bed was Jim Morrison, the famous 1960's rock singer, and his band – keyboard player Ray Manzarek, guitarist Robbie Kreiger and drummer John Densmore. Cathy, as Lorna, was confused – this wasn't part of the film, why were they in the dream? Of course, she reasoned, there had been that movie earlier starring Val Kilmer as Morrison, but what was happening now? Charlie continued to schmooze.


“Sweetheart, babe, darlin', all you gotta do is entertain Jim and the guys for a while, okay?”


“But, how?” Cathy asked, somehow knowing where this was going. She had also watched a scene from a film on her favourite adult website earlier that evening, “What do they like?”


“Oral sex.” said Morrison himself. “We like oral sex!”


Now she was Lorna once again. Obediently, she shuffled forward on the bed and opened her mouth. Morrison unzipped the fly of his immaculate snakeskin leather trousers to reveal his huge erect member. Willingly Lorna accepted it into her mouth, even as the other members of the band surrounded her on the bed, tugging and pulling her expensive Mary Quant dress off. Soon she was naked apart from her high-heeled leather boots, kneeling on the floor in the centre of a circle of men, all brandishing hardened cocks.


One by one she took each into her mouth, male hands firmly gripping the top and sides of her head as each one thrust himself deeply into her oral cavity, swollen glans tips protruding into the back of her mouth, and as she tilted her head back to permit access to her gullet, deep-throating each in turn as she pleasured two more with her hands, sliding them up and down their stiff lengths, gently cupping their genitals and manipulating the engorged purple heads of their swellings expertly. Hands pawed at her breasts, squeezing, caressing. Her legs opened almost automatically, thighs spreading wide.


Fingers fumbled into her wet slit, then slipped into her unresisting anus, digits filling her front and back. Cocks rubbed against her ears, her cheeks and through her hair. She began to moan with pleasure as each one of the men in turn began to ejaculate, shooting hot loads of spunk across her face as she knelt, open mouthed to receive the streams of jizz.


As the men withdrew from her she became aware that more men had entered the room and had been intently watching the proceedings. With a gasp Cathy recognised Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Brian Jones, Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts – the Rolling Stones!


Each one was excitedly rubbing the bulging fronts of their trousers and then stepped forward, taking the places previously occupied by Morrison and his men, and brandished stiff cocks of their own, Amazed, Lorna began to pleasure these new additions, who were soon joined by none other than Jimi Hendrix, Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding, then all the members of The Beatles and Led Zeppelin too!


Lorna's jaw ached as she satisfied each one in turn, more and more jism shooting across her face and breasts, running in spunky torrents down her body, clinging and stringing to her torso and limbs.


Suddenly at the height of their, and her, ecstasy, there was a crash as Charlie burst angrily back into the room.


“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?” He yelled. “YOU WERE ONLY SUPPOSED TO BLOW THE BLOODY 'DOORS' OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF – OFF”


Michael Caine's voice echoed around the inside of Cathy's head over and over again as she woke with a start. A fleeting moment of existential crisis as she snapped out of the dream and into reality; that peculiar but temporary feeling of confusion and vertigo before the human brain readjusts from rapid eye movement sleep to full consciousness.


She blinked her eyes several times as her subconscious went about its automatic routine, checking that the prerequisite number of limbs and digits were all still attached, and that all moving parts were still functioning within normal parameters. Cathy dabbed the back of her hand to her forehead, damping a smattering of beads of sweat that hung there. With a slight flush of embarrassment she realised that she could feel a certain moistness and warmth in her pubic region.


She glanced up at the TV from her position, curled up on the sofa wearing her night-dress and gown - the late-night news had just started, she had obviously fallen asleep during the movies on the television earlier. On the coffee table in front of her a tell-tale plate of crumbs revealed the last mortal remains of the cheese and crackers which had comprised her supper, and only a few dregs remained in the glass of Cabernet Sauvigon standing beside it.


Her cheeks reddened slightly as she recalled the vivid dream she had just woken from.....

 

I can't help feeling responsible for this, it was me who posted about the classic version of the Italian Job.

I'mont sure what to make of this, and I'm not sure where the crime in this one is. Also why is the introduction repeated, that seems unnecessary.

 

Ok,ground hog day revised lol
I also didn't see the crimes but enjoyed the story.
Good luck to you, thanks for the story

 

I liked this story. I understood the ending repetition, its a trick they use on TV series such as NCIS - the cold open shows a dramatic scene, the next scene is subtitled "24 Hours earlier", then the entire episode is one big flashback, culminating in the original opening scene, and the events immediately after it.
I can't understand the comments above concerning the lack of crime - the main character is part of a gang attempting to steal $4 billion in gold, I think that's criminal enough!

 

Okay, here's my take on this story. First the technical, then I'll get the guts of the story.

1. Cabernet Sauvigon

Cabernet Sauvignon is the correct spelling.

Here's a tip that everyone may not be aware of. If you take your story and you create a new thread and paste your story into the box, anything that you see underlined in red is being questioned by the software as a misspelling. It isn't 100% accurate, but chances are, it's worth you taking a second look.

2. In case the author didn't catch my ellipsis lesson in a different review ... if you use one, put a space before it, and a space after it. If you use one at the end of a sentence, the same rule applies, plus, you need to add in a period, so it will look like this ... .

Granted, that looks odd, but it is grammatically correct, and while it may not matter here, if you go to submit your work somewhere to get paid or published, it's better to know these things than not.

3. Same thing with my comma lesson from another review. If you put two adjectives next to each other that modify the same noun that follows in the same way, you need a comma separating them. I'm referring to this:

"square sunglasses and long blonde locks"

It should be "square sunglasses and long, blonde locks"

And "trendy young people" becomes "trendy, young people"

There were a lot of adjectives in this story, so I'm not going to list all of the examples. I saw them, though.

Found another way to help distinguish when to use the comma. This is directly from englishplus.com:

If two adjectives modify a noun in the same way, place a comma between the two adjectives. These are called coordinate adjectives.

There is a two-part test for coordinate adjectives:

(1) Can you replace the comma with the word and?

(2) Can you reverse the order of the adjectives and keep the same meaning?

If you can do both, then you have coordinate adjectives.

Correct: Did you read about Macomber's short, happy life?
Test for Correctness: Did you read about Macomber's short and happy life?

Did you read about Macomber's happy, short life?

All three sentences say the same thing, so the adjectives are coordinate adjectives and separated by commas in the original.​

Sorry for being long-winded about this, but it's an important part of writing, and a little education can go a long way sometimes.

Now, as for the story from a content point-of-view. I have some mixed feelings. I think the author has a good grasp of language, but the writing seemed a bit stiff, the sentences a bit wordy and awkward to read. Without knowing who the author is, it's impossible to tell if this is the author's normal gait, or if it is contrived for the purposes of telling this particular story. I think with some work, the author can produce better, because the quality of the writing is high. There's quite a bit of attention to detail, possibly a bit too much in a story of this length. There's a vast knowledge of the setting, and again, that's great, but it almost overshadowed the story itself in my mind. If the story were twice the length, if it included more dialogue, I think that it could have been top shelf.

The whole sequence of oral sex with all of the top British bands of the last century seemed odd. I admit to not seeing the movie that this was based on, so it could be homage to that movie, so I'm reserving judgment other than perhaps a little more explanation as to that part of the dream might have helped not just me, but others who didn't see the movie. If it wasn't homage to the movie, then I'm definitely baffled. Not that it wasn't good sex, just odd.

So, mixed reviews. Mr. or Mrs. Author, you have writing talent, but this seemed a bit stiff. More story, ease up a bit on the length of the sentences, add some dialogue to draw the reader in better, and consider some of the technical information above. I hope this review was even somewhat helpful, and definitely continue to write, please.

 

A never ending dream with a rock and roll bands. One never knows what you might find in these stories. Thanks for your submission.

 

I think I've seen the movie, in fact I'm sure I've seen it, and I'm still as confused as Cathy, as Lorna, was confused. This one, the story itself just didn't quite make sense to me. The writing itself was good, maybe the scenes and descriptions could have been written better, but that comes with practice. This was a fine effort, I think it just wasn't quite to my taste.

 

It was a lot of sex and very little crime. I think I was looking for more story. Good creativity.

 

A little confusing but a whole bunch of sex. High marks for originality.

 

I had to work to understand this one. Lots of hot sex and some interesting descriptions, but the plot -- to me at least -- was a bit confusing. Still an enjoyable read.

Good luck in the voting!

 

Another one I have revisited pre-voting. I wasn't as confused by it as some commenters have been it would seem, but Horsey is spot on with his criticism of the technical aspects of the piece. The "only supposed to blow the doors off" joke does still make me chuckle however.

 

Another worthy story for your reading pleasure and consideration when voting. C'mon, people.

 

I didn't like there were no full stops in any of the paragraphs and the commas were sutuated, in my opinion, in the wrong places. The lack of full stops may be a style choice but it was annoying and jarring to me.

I wondered why shepherds pie was capitalised ? And being a tad pedantic, if the plates were cleared then how could she tell what they'd eaten ?

I liked the story, though once again being picky there wasn't an actual crime as such, even in the dream.

The writing was very good if a little too wordy at times. It was somewhat easy to read in that it was set out well but the punctuation really let it down.

Apart from the end of the paragraphs I only counted 3 full stops in the whole piece. I do think it shows enthusiasm and excitement from the writer, although afterwards during your editing it should have been picked up, along with the few spelling errors.

I did like how you got Caine's immortal line tied in with the blow job dream and tied it in with things she'd viewed earlier in the evening. There was a good attention to detail to the movie (though I haven't seen it in its entirety ) and to places, dress and

I did also like ending with the repeat of the opening sequence.

All in all a good effort with plenty of description, the museum etc and a good amount of effort was involved especially in the sex, which I enjoyed a lot !

Thanks for the effort and good luck in the comp. Luvs xx

 

I liked the story but I'm unsure how it ties to the theme? I understand that she watched a crime movie but she also watched a porno? Or is the true crime here the Micheal Caine pun?

 

I'd been taking a little break from XNXX, and only came in part way through the compy, my entry was a story that had been sitting nearly finished in a folder for a while. Although the connection to the theme was a tad tenuous, the central character was part of a gang carrying out a bullion raid, so as a vehicle for a corny joke I thought it was relevant. It wasn't perhaps the best I can achieve, but I would like to thank all of you who gave me some excellent constructive criticism, there several points there for me to bear in mind when I next write.