Loading...The rhythm of your steps on the stairs announces your presence and I look up from chopping the peppers as you unlock the latch. Still dusted with flour from work at the bakery, you look just as juicy as that day last fall when I picked you up at the gym. You slip the bandanna off your head and shake free the mop of red-gold curls it contains. “I got the stuff you wanted from the market. Angelo is bringing it up.” I raise an eyebrow, wondering what you are up to. That impish look is all over your face, and your cheeks are flushed. Girl, don’t I know that look!
You and I are so different, but we’re good together. Much as you may try to contain it, your Boston Irish Catholic heritage just shines all over you, from your carrot-red pubes to the way you blush when I talk dirty to you in Spanish. I don’t know where this is going, but girl, I’m havin’ fun. I’m Latina, my raven hair cut short as a boy’s, and I take no shit off of anybody. My compasinas tease me, “Don’t you get tired of eating that cream puff, Carla?”
“Oh no,” I tell them “I could do that girl all night long!”
Angelo ducks through the doorway. He’s a big guy, over 6’3′, easy, and he towers over you. I can tell by how he looks at you that he wants you. “What you want I should do wid dees groceries, Kitty?” He’s not bad, for a guy, dark, muscular, his ass stuffed into jeans two sizes too small, his white T-shirt just as tight.
“Just put ’em on the counter, Angelo.” You look at me and wink. I knew it. You wanna fuck him. Ah girl, no matter what good sugar I give you, you still gotta get a dick up you every now and then. I laugh and Angelo looks puzzled – clearly he’s not in on the plan yet. “Where’s that wine I bought?” you ask. I pull it out of the cabinet and set it on the counter where you are putting the groceries away, then rake the cubes of peppers and onions into the pot simmering on the stove.
Angelo reaches for the bottle. “You want I should open dis baby up for yous?” He looks at you hungrily and then to me, just checking. Are we just roommates, lovers? He’s clearly unsure, but not willing to leave just yet. I pull the corkscrew out of the drawer beside me and spin it across the counter so it winds up just in front of you. Ok, I can play this game with you, Miss Kitty.
“Here.” You turn and hand it to him, dipping your ivory shoulder so the strap of the little lime green top you’re wearing just “happens” to slide down. Girl, you are so bad, teasin’ that poor boy. Teasin’ me, too, ’cause I know what’s comin’, even if poor old horny Angelo doesn’t.
You pull three Mexican goblets off the shelf as Angelo eases out the cork. “Why don’t you stay for dinner? Carla always makes too much paella.” You nail him with those smoky violet eyes of yours and grin so sexy. “There’s always enough to share…” The ruby Spanish wine fills the glasses and poor Angelo is so busy blessing his unbelievable luck that he overfills one and dribbles wine onto his hand. “Don’t waste that – it’s so good.” You shock even me by grabbing his big paw and licking the droplets off with that little pink cat’s tongue of yours. Jeez, girl, you are some kinda hot tonight!
I’m watching him and I swear he’s about to poke himself in the eye with the boner he’s wearing. This is going to get real interesting. “Uh..yeah..sure”, he stutters, “I’ll stay. It..uh..smells really good.” He’s wearing this distracted look and I know you’ve got him hooked.
“This stuff still has to simmer awhile yet. Why don’t we put on some music and chill while I roll us a joint.” See, girl, I know my place in this routine, and I know you, know how you think and what makes you hot. I enjoy a swig of the wine, cover the simmering stew and head into the bedroom to find the reefer and papers. By the time I get back to the living room with a nice, fat blunt, Angelo has you draped across his lap and his big paw is up your shirt, totally covering your hard little breast. His dark curly head is bent over your copper one, and he’s got his tongue down your throat halfway to paradise. The crotch of your jeans is already dark with your honey.
I light up the joint and take a deep draw on it, then lean over you, cradling your head against my heavier breasts, and shotgun the harsh, sweet smoke into your mouth. Your strawberry lips are wet and full as you suck up the hit, then you turn and pass the smoke on to Angelo. Ah yes, this will certainly get things started.
The jazz is Latin, your peace offering, I suspect, and torrid. I slide onto the end of the couch beside the two of you and you roll onto your side across his lap, your hip grinding against his hardness as you turn to kiss me. Through your curls, I see his eyes widen, and then he begins to unbutton your jeans. I am kissing you deeply, my full lips covering yours and my tongue parrying with you. With your free left hand you unbutton my shirt, and draw it back, exposing my heavy brown breasts so that you can lift and pinch my nipples like I love. Angelo takes the joint and sucks hard on it, then coughs. We all laugh – this is good dope.
You sit up and in a heartbeat have stripped off your tanktop and slipped your Calvins to the floor. Across your rosy hips is a pair of tiny white cotton panties, barely enough to cover the tumble of carrot-colored curls guarding your mound. The crotch is soaked and I can smell you, smell your heat. Angelo groans in disbelief and look to me. Hell, I can’t make you behave. He’s on his own! “Somebody’s got too many clothes on,” you tease, and pull him unsteadily to his feet. You strip off his T-shirt and step into his arms, your freckled hand pale against his olive skin. He inhales sharply and leans back, arching into your touch. Oh yes. His cock is straining at his pants, until you unzip him and free that salami he’s aching to fuck you with. Big boy, uncut, too. You’ll love that, baby girl.
I slide my denim shirt off and step out of my cut-offs, then run my hand through my short black hair. I want in on this, girlfriend. I might be willing for you to get some dick from time to time, but you are my girl. As I press my breasts against your back and slip my arms around you, I murmur “Baby, lets find a bed…” We gather up the wine and glasses, and traipse into our bedroom, you and me with our arms around each other and Angelo following after, his eyes dilated with lust and his cock arching out in front of him like some rhinoceros’s horn.
You throw yourself down across the bed, kicking piles of pillows onto the floor and spilling the scarlet comforter onto the carpet. Like a pool of star-flecked cream you lay, with your soft little thighs open and your arm flung back above your head so that your sweet little breasts stand up hard and sharp, like little strawberries. Yes, girl, that’s what you are: strawberries and cream, and I want some. I kneel by you and drag your panties off, then, just to mess with poor Angelo’s head, I look at him and lick my lips, real slow, before burying my face in your snatch. That boy ain’t never gonna be right again after tonight.
He crawls up beside you and turns your face toward him so he can feed you his cock. I’ve gotta watch this, and I look up over your hip while teasing your button with my thumb. He’s stripped his foreskin back, and his cock head looks like a ripe plum, with taunt purple skin and sweet juices glistening at the crack. Your amethyst eyes are half-closed and you touch the tip of your little pink cat’s tongue to his dick, tease it into his slit, and then swirl the moisture over the knob he’s feeding you. I can feel you shaking as he slips his fuck stick in and out of your open mouth, and I lower my own mouth to your honeypot again. With tender fingers I part your curls, and open your flower, teasing the ruffled flesh with my tongue tip. From its nest beneath your carmine tissues, your clit rises hard and hot, far tinier than mine but just as sensitive. I circle your pearl with my tongue, licking, licking, slurping up your honey, and hump my mound against the rumpled sheets, smearing them with my own desire.
Angelo’s got one hand behind your head, steadying you as he pumps his dick in and out of your straining mouth, and with his other one, he’s thumbing your hard little tits, pinching your nipples and milking you. Knowing how hot you are, I rise up and start to slide my fingers in and out of your pussy, thrusting my slim, brown hand into your open wetness. You let out that high shriek you make and start coming all over my hand, grinding you little pink pussy onto my fingers and arching your back in ecstasy. Too much for the boy. He can’t handle this, and loses control, groaning loudly as he fires spurt after spurt of cum all over your pretty mouth and face.
You get the giggles, and ask me if I want a taste. “Damn girl, I don’t eat that stuff. You know I don’t swing that way! If word got around I was eatin’ cum, no self-respecting dike in town would get near me!” I tease. Angelo’s slumped to the bed, lost in a pleasure fog and wondering what saint so favored him as to reward his good deed with such an outrageous encounter. I tip my wineglass and pour a dribble of the dark liquid into your navel, then drain the glass. “Always wanted to try this…” With my tongue, I lap the thimbleful of wine from the hollow of your soft belly, then trail downward, back to your puss. “Roll over, baby.” I plead, and coax you up onto your knees. Angelo’s slitted eyes open wider – what’s next?
I start way up at the nape of your neck, nibbling and savoring your sweet, pale flesh, circling each knob of your spine with my tongue. Kneeling behind you, I press my mons against the softness of your ass, tilting my hips so I can work my pubic hair between your cheeks and brush against the tender flower of your asshole. By the time I’ve reached the small of your back, your are arching like a cat in heat and making little soft moans. I sit back and settle my dripping cunt over the roundness of your heel, rocking my clit against the pressure while I bend and tease your rosebud with my tongue. I pull you to me and thrust into your darkness, then lap at your pussy, sucking on those juicy ruffles that I love.
You turn in my arms, shifting onto your back and reach up to me. “Come here, Carla, please do me, you know, the way I like….” Oh yes. I will do you, girlfriend. I will cradle you in my strong brown arms and kiss your clitty with mine and rock you into paradise. I settle my hips over yours, each of us with a thigh between our own, our mounds pressed in a wet embrace. Angelo sits up on one elbow. This he has to see. Already his soft cock is perking up, swelling against his thigh. Boys…
I love the feel of your hard little breasts under me, your strawberry nipples like bullets against my big brown breasts. I love the freckles that spatter your chest and dust your cheeks. I love your ivory-rose skin so pale against mine and the way your sex smells like rose petals and musk. I love how much you just love to be bad. Don’t you know those nuns that taught you back at St. Anthony’s would shit!
I start to press against you, pulling you tighter, nudging your sharp little clit with my big fat one, pushing through your rusty curls into the wetness, your heat against my heat. Both of us are moaning, whimpering, our pussies making hot, squishy noises as our honey pours out. I lock my clit against yours and grab your ass-cheeks with my hands, shaking my hips until we both start to come, gasping in ecstasy. “Baby, you are so sweet.” I kiss your eyelids, your nipples, kiss your sticky navel, dip between your moist thighs and lick the goodie from your curls, tenderly kissing you clean.
“Damn! You bitches don’ even need a fella, do you?” Angelo is clearly taken aback, but obviously turned on. His fat cock has risen and the head is peeking out of its foreskin, ready to go again.
“Poor Angelo,” you murmur and you wrap your little pink hand around his big dong, giving him a squeeze. “Do you need a little attention, too?” He groans and thrusts his cock into your grasp, so that you slide back the skin and expose that plum again.
“Oh, yeah, baby, that’s good, that’s good.” He’s trembling with pleasure as you stroke and tease his hard dick and he cradles his heavy balls in his big hand, kneading and working them in rhythm with your caresses. I settle back at the foot of the bed to watch you turn him into pudding. He’s obviously really hot; his flat brown nipples are hard as tacks under the thatch of black hair on his chest, and pre-cum is just streaming out of his piss-hole over your little fist. If he hadn’t already blown his wad once, he’d be doing it now, but that gives him a little edge, more control.
You get up on your knees and push him onto his back. His swollen horn rears over his belly and his eyes are clouded with desire as you settle astride his hips and guide that monster into your honeypot. Not all at once – no, you’d rather tease him, so you squat over him with his cock head just inside your lips, so he can just feel the kiss of your heat and wetness. I watch between the arc of your ass cheeks as he nudges into the wetness of your pussy, as his turgid purple sex splits your pale rosy cunny. He tries to thrust deeper into you, but you’re in charge. “No, Angelo, be nice, do it like I want it,” you croon, and slide him in just a little deeper. Wide-eyed, he nods and wraps his big paws around your little waist, the long dark fingers squeezing into your softness.
This is what I love to watch, watch my baby ride until she’s full, ride until her pussy sings with pleasure, ride that man into the ground. I shift over until I’m curled beside the two of you on my side, close enough to touch you, to open you to his thrusts, close enough to smell the rawness of your sex, to hear the slap and squish of your juices. You brace yourself with your hands on his chest, rosy fingers buried in the thick hair which covers him like a pelt. And you squat down onto his cock, sliding your streaming pussy up and down over the monster rearing from his loins. With every thrust, your breasts bounce and shake, strawberry nipples so hard they’re drawn up like little nubs.
I slip my hand between the two of you and spread your dripping curls apart so that I can watch you engulf his engorged dong, watch how your swollen, ruffled lips are tugged and dragged as you rise up off him. I can feel your clit between my fingers and vibrate my hand against it the way you love.
Your eyes are fixed on his, cat’s pink tongue-tip touching your rosy lips as your breath comes more quickly. His fingertips grip deeply into your hips and he arches franticly, working his dick into your sweet cunny, fucking you for all he’s worth. Between my fingers I feel his hard slick organ as it thrusts into your wetness over and over, and I feel the climax gathering in your little honeypot as your clitty swells and rises. Angelo starts to come, too, his head flung back, his back arching like a bow, hollering like somebody’s killing him. I can feel him pumping his spunk into you, pumping you full of his cum, and I feel you coming, too, your pussy clutching his cock, my hand, the fingers I squeeze into your clinching cunt against his throbbing dick. Then I’m coming, too, my own cunny twitching and shuddering ’cause I’m so damn turned on. Oh, girl, you are so bad..so damn bad…
Seems like I’d learn what happens every time I send you shopping after work.