Slowly I pulled her into position so that she straddled me, my dick nestled between her thighs. Like a vixen, she began grinding, her tender pussy on my cock, lubing it up with her dripping cream, dragging that hot flesh against my stiff pole. I swear, the blood in my cock was pounding so hard, so fast that I thought I might explode right then and there from the slick camel-toe ride.
But she took control then. Teresa reached one hand down, leaning over me as she did so, dangling a boob in my face, and grabbed my fuckpole in one hand, letting it rub up and down against her cunt. Oh fuck, that felt good, the wet flesh caressing me, my cock twitching and straining in her tiny fist, trying to get into that hole.
She was devious though, teasing me by stroking my dick up and down her slit, her pussy so aromatic, so fucking wet that my cock had begun to stream like a leaky faucet. The pre-cum smeared on her thighs, on her pussy lips, lubing everything up, the viscous fluid mixing with her cream.
With a sigh, she thrust my pole into her box, sinking onto the rod, throwing her head back with a delirious sigh of enjoyment. The look on her face was pure ecstasy. Pure, fucking enjoyment as a woman rode my dick, savoring that hot rod in her twat. I live for moments like this, the sight of a beautiful girl bouncing up and down, legs spread, boobs flying everywhere as her cunny was pounded.
Because I’d taken her hips in my hand and was starting a deep thrust into her cunt. Her box was so wet, so tight that it was difficult to resist. I’d wanted to start slow, let her ride a wave, but instead I was drilling her, holding her in place as I rammed my dick again and again into that tight, sweet hole. “Unnf,” I grunted, my pecs straining, my abs solid as the little girl rode me like a cowgirl.
And reader, she was fucking loving it. Teresa was now moaning in ecstasy, her head thrown back like a wild woman as she was fucked from below. Her hands reached up to roll her nipples, pulling and tugging at that sensitive flesh as my dick violated her, the obscene sight of my massive pole disappearing again and again into that tiny cunny driving me over the edge.
With a roar, I came, spurting white hot goodness into her vag, coating those walls with my virility, each shot of sperm stronger than the last. I felt my balls tighten with intensity as her pussy pulsed in reaction, her orgasm complimenting mine, pulling that cum deeper into her sweet, hot flesh. Fuck, I sprayed so much that sperm began leaking between our bodies, juices rubbing everywhere as I fucked and fucked and fucked.
Finally, she collapsed on my chest with a sigh, her cunny still pumping me, occasional tremors squeezing me tight. My dick felt limp, completely spent but I knew I’d be getting it up again … hopefully for fucks three, four and five.
And it was nice honestly, to feel Teresa pressed against me, her big boobs mashed against my chest, both of us trying to draw air into our lungs after that mind-blowing fuck. I figured I might as well ask before we headed into round two.
“Are you on contraception?” I asked wryly. “Obviously it’s a little late if you’re not, but there’s always the morning after pill.”
She buried her face in my chest, flushing a bit, before answering.
“Yeah, I’m on the pill, I use it to regulate my periods, they’re so painful if I don’t.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god. This wasn’t the right time to knock anyone up, especially not someone I was paying for sex. But I still had questions. “What was up with the oral?” I asked gently. “You not into it?”
This time she didn’t look me in the eye, instead growing completely motionless.
“Yeah, it’s just not my thing,” she said in a muffled voice. “It makes me cheevy and there are so many juices, it’s disgusting.”
“Baby, your puss in my mouth is not disgusting,” I assured her. “The taste is fantastic, and fuck, I love a woman who comes in my mouth, squirting her juices,” I added. Okay, that was a lot of information but yeah, squirting turns me on. I drink it, I like feeling it spurt on my tongue, feeling pussy contract and let go into the depths of my throat.
But it just made Teresa more wary.
“I just don’t like it, okay?” she said, her voice still muffled against my pecs. “Can’t we do other things?”
“Baby there are a hundred other thing we haven’t done,” I said dryly. “Including oral on me. Let’s get started, shall we?” And with that, I flipped her on her back and moved up her body, nudging that beautiful mouth with my cock.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Teresa
Oh god, what had I done? Had I given away my secret? Ever since Uncle Gordo molested me, I haven’t let anyone taste me down there because it makes chills run up my spine, digging up memories that I’d rather forget. And usually guys don’t care at all, they’re more than happy to skip the stinky, messy obligation.
“Oh yeah baby, if you don’t want it, no problem,” said one guy. “Besides most girls smell like cheese below, it’s fucking disgusting.”
Another dude said, “Reminds me of rotting fish. Or garbage.”
As you can see, most men were only too happy to receive without having to reciprocate. I was probably the easiest fuck they’d ever had.
But Matt was different. Not only had he emphasized how much he loved giving oral, but also loved making a woman come that way, drinking her juices, lapping at her cunny until she was exhausted and limp, overtaken with orgasm.
So I was in a bind. Oral was Matt’s thing and I’d dodged the bullet this time, but was I going to be able to keep avoiding it in the months to come? How long could I keep my past a secret?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Matt
I wasn’t worried. There were a million things I wanted to do to Teresa in bed, and I looked forward to making her my prized pupil. I wanted to insert my fingers in her pussy, watch her suck my dick, rim that beautiful ass, and maybe get some anal on off days. Yeah, I wanted to stretch that back door, push my dick in and feel her dry heat. I had a feeling Teresa would be a champ taking cock up her backside.
The oral thing was weird, but I was sure I’d overcome her defenses. Hey, women love getting that shit and I’m the master. I looked forward to the day when her pussy shook and spasmed on my tongue, her juices dripping down my chin.
But first things first. Teresa was shy getting out of bed, trying to shield her boobs and cunny with her hands as if I hadn’t just pillaged her, tasted that flesh in the most intimate ways. It was even kind of cute. She was pulling her hair over her boobs like Venus on the half shell, and tripped lightly over to the bathroom. I could hear water running, splashing a bit as she cleaned up.
“Feel free to jump in the shower,” I rumbled. She replied but I couldn’t hear what. “And by the way, we have an event tonight – at Mandy Hurst’s place. Not a fundraiser per se, but a private cocktail party where I’ll be meeting with a handful of donors.”
That got her attention. Teresa popped her head out of the bathroom and asked in a stunned voice, “Did you say tonight? Um … I hadn’t planned on starting so soon.”
I chuckled deeply. “Baby, you belonged to me the moment you took that twenty-five thou.” Her face fell and immediately, I was contrite. What the fuck was wrong with me? I should have felt nothing, she was bought and paid for after all, but instead I felt like a fucking asshole for emphasizing the nature of our relationship.
But the girl had more backbone that I gave her credit for.
“Sure, I just need to know what to wear,” she said bravely, tilting her chin up. “What’s the dress code?”
“Cocktail attire,” I said. “I’m going to wear a suit. You got something appropriate?” The fact was I had some women’s clothes in a closet somewhere, leftover from past flings, but it didn’t seem right to mention it. For one, I’d have to explain how I got them, always a distasteful task. Plus, it was just fucking disrespectful and I wasn’t going to subject Teresa to that.
So when she nodded, I was relieved. I wouldn’t have to accompany her on some last-minute shopping spree.
“Yeah, I ha
ve a few things at home,” she murmured. “Let me drop by to get them.”
“Okay great. I’ll send my car to pick you up at eight tonight then,” I growled. And in the meantime,” I added, getting up from the bed and stalking towards the bathroom. “Let’s see about a shower … à deux.”
Her brown eyes grew wide and I grinned like a maniac. Why not start raunchy and hard? I liked it that way … and Teresa would learn to love it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Teresa
The clucking from my aunt was annoying but harmless.
“Bambino!” exclaimed my Aunt Rosita. “You took a car home? You know we can’t afford cabs,” she said.
I cringed a bit. Matt had insisted in sending me home in his private vehicle and I knew the shiny black sedan had been noticed in our working class neighborhood. Most of our friends drove beat-up Datsuns and the like, so seeing anything with less than fifty thousand miles was a novelty.
“I know, but don’t tell Mami okay? The bus wouldn’t come and it’s been such a long day.” That wasn’t a lie. I was tired, but not from cleaning Matt’s house. Instead, my employer had fucked me repeatedly and I was sore in all the right places, my body sated and deliciously used. I swear, I felt a limp coming on, he’d pounded my pussy so hard.
But it’d felt wonderful. Nasty, deep, dirty … and oh so satisfying. Matt was an amazing male animal, built in all the right ways, broad shoulders, a deep chest, and thick, heavy thighs. His cock had been so enormous that I’d been nervous at first. My eyes had grown wide at the sight of the pole punching out from his hips, the deep purple member veiny and pulsing with vitality, the crown massive with a flaring head.
I’d tried to hide my apprehension, reminding myself that I’d agreed to this, that the potential payoff was worth it. Seventy-five thousand if Matt won the election … I could manage right? Three months of work for two years of salary. I could focus on my studies, get good grades, and hopefully find a good job as an accountant after graduation.
But in the meantime, there was still the man himself. Matt was predatory, his expectations immediate. I knew I needed to find that velvet dress from the back of my closet asap because he expected me to hit the ground running, moving into his townhouse and taking on the role of girlfriend.
So I started digging around in my closet, throwing things I wanted to pack on the bed. Aunt Rosita followed me to my room, clucking at mess I was making.
“Teresita!” she exclaimed. “What’s going on? What’s that suitcase for?”
I sighed over the battered brown trunk. The fact was that I didn’t have much, so I’d be done in minutes, but I was going to have to think up some excuse to explain my three-month absence. I toyed with the thought of telling the truth. Seventy-five thousand dollars was a windfall to my family, and they would understand. Wouldn’t they? But I decided the truth was just too difficult, it was … too real, you know? Cold hard cash in exchange for services rendered.
So I fibbed.
“Auntie Rosita, it’s been so tough lately,” I said limply. “Between work and school, I’ve been exhausted. I’ve found a new job at a coffee shop close to campus and my friend Carmen has offered me a place to live for a few months. Not forever, but just so I can get really focus on studying for my CPA license.”
Some of that was true. I did plan on taking the CPA exam at some point, just not within the next six months. And Carmen was well-off, she lived in a two-bedroom and could conceivably take me in. I figured my friend would cover for me if my family investigated.
Aunt Rosita shook her head again, clucking. “But why you want to be an accountant? You’re not happy with Krystal Kleaning?”
I sighed. I didn’t mean to denigrate my aunt, but wasn’t it obvious that being a maid wasn’t my goal in life? I mean, fifty dollars a pop isn’t a lot, and it was back-breaking work, job after job. Didn’t she see the calluses on her hands, feel the way the chemicals made her eyes sting? But I understood where Rosita was coming from. Compared to the Honduras, Krystal Kleaning was a dream come true, something she hoped the next generation would preserve. I just wasn’t that right person to do it.
“It’s not that I don’t like being a part of your business, Auntie Rosita,” I said carefully. “It’s just not for me, you know? I’m good with numbers, I’m good with planning, I can find a regular job.”
“You can be our business manager,” she retorted in Spanish. “We need someone to manage Krystal’s books.”
I sighed again. “No, I’m sorry, I’m looking for something different, Tia Rosita. I love you and Mami, but I can’t work with you guys forever. I’m looking … I dunno, Tia Rosita, for something maybe … I don’t know,” I concluded lamely.
“Teresita,” she said, sitting on the bed and taking my hand in hers. “We know the adjustment’s been hard for you. We know your mom rushed you out of the Honduras because of what was happening. And baby, if we’d known sooner,” she paused to wipe a tear away, “your Mami never would have left you in the countryside.”
“But you have a chance for a new life now, so be careful, okay? You’re still an illegal. Things are different for you, you don’t have the freedoms that the gringos have, not even someone with a green card. Don’t attract attention to yourself because you’ll never be like them. If the police find out … ” her voice trailed off.
I nodded my head slowly. I’d heard this speech a thousand times, and I knew she was right, even if it made me sad. I wasn’t supposed to be in this country. I was supposed to be in the Honduras, married off at eighteen, my virginity given to some man who would be responsible for my safety then.
But Mami had come unexpectedly to the countryside one night. She’d appeared in a cloud of dust on the back of some local boy’s motorbike who’d agreed to give a ride to a poor housewife who hadn’t seen her daughter in a year.
“Mami,” I’d cried from the dining room table. Aunt Blanca had hurried outdoors immediately, exclaiming, “Lena, what are you doing here? Why have you come?”
By now, the abuse had been going on for three years. I was thirteen and oddly used to it. I no longer sat on my uncle’s lap after dinner, instead he’d come to me in the dark of the night, sucking on my pussy, lapping up my juices as I writhed in bed.
Because that was the horrible part of what had happened. I was a slut and had learned to love the oral, coming over and over again as my pussy was tantalized. It never hurt, my uncle never asked me to reciprocate, and I was actually a virgin still. It’s just that … I don’t know, there must be something deep, dark and twisted in me, something that made a thirteen year-old girl lap up the attention, my juices starting to run the minute my uncle set foot in my darkened bedroom. We never spoke about it, and I was ashamed … ashamed at my sexuality, ashamed that I was in this position, ashamed at being me.
So when my mom appeared, I was careful. Sure, this would have been a perfect time to blurt out the abuse, but instead, I said nothing. I ran outside after my aunt, happily smiling and throwing my arms around Mami.
“Teresita, have you been good?” she asked fondly, stroking my hair. “My, how beautiful you’ve become! Taller, and so …” she paused, looking at my newly-developed curves. “Like a woman,” she concluded.
It was true. Those three years had seen me blossom and now as a thirteen year-old, I was considered ripe, my boobs and hips luscious, my waist tiny, with a seductive smile that girls learn only too early where I come from.
“Come on,” said my mom fondly. “Let’s go in and get some dinner my precious girl, it’s been too long.”
And it was wonderful to see my mother again, this woman who’d done the best she could even if it meant sending me away. After a prosaic evening of light conversation with my aunt and uncle, Mami and I got ready for bed. It was obvious that Uncle Gordo wasn’t going to make his usual midnight run because my aunt’s house is small and Mami and I would be sharing my narrow mattress, there was nowhere else for her to sleep.
So I waited unti
l my mom’s breathing deepened and slowed next to me, her arm carelessly thrown around my waist. When I heard the clock strike midnight, I carefully repositioned her arm and crawled out of bed, making sure that the blankets were tight around her form, warding off any cold air.
On tiptoes, I crept out the front door, hesitating only when the latch squeaked a bit. Outside, the warm summer air caressed my skin, blowing gently through the soft cotton of my nightgown. I made my way to the clearing at the edge of the farm, where a small grove of eucalyptus trees stood.
And there was my Uncle Gordo, waiting. He was still gross, don’t get me wrong. Shaped like a walrus, his big belly protruding under a wife beater, still greasy and disgusting, smelling of cigarette smoke. But when you’ve been molested as a child you don’t know what’s right and wrong, you can even develop a certain affection and affiliation with your captors … Stockholm syndrome, I’ve since learned it’s called.
Gordo said nothing when he caught a glimpse of me, gesturing for me to follow him even further into the grove. And reader, I did as I was told. I was so far gone by now that my pussy had already started running in anticipation of the pleasure to come. When he stopped, I stopped, and I pulled up my nightgown wordlessly, baring my teenage pussy for his nightly suckling. And Gordo didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, this lecherous uncle of mine, and began lapping at my slit, that pink half shell quivering and dripping with desire.
I loved it. I loved every second of it, and must have started whimpering with pleasure, my knees weak, a man’s tongue deep inside my snatch. I was trembling, trying to maintain my balance even as Gordo continued his assault on my little twat, tasting the sweet cream, rubbing one out as he drank my girl juice.
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