Latin Porn Spices

pure latin cherry
Its hard for me to describe....the hot steamy sex that I had last night! It started so slowly...I never knew what hit me. I was visiting my Aunt Kates apartment building in Brooklyn , a large brownstone in a attractive location, when she asked me to help her with a tenant's water supply problem. Seems her sink was dripping underneath where the hot water pipes connected. Even tho the tenants were quite affluent the prices plumbers in NY commanded made fixing things yourself worth the inconvenience! Being a slim muscular man with a can do attitude I jumped at the chance to return Aunt Kates hospitality!

I was horny as hell. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I snuck up behind
Sheila and started kissing her ears. She obliged and started fondling her
breasts through the thin fabric of her dress.
I always liked getting her started as she was having her drink after work.
It allowed time enough to really get into it, before we both got tired.
I moved around in front of the chair and started unbuttoning her dress. I
got as far as her waist before the urge seized me, and I released her
pendulious breasts from their confining bra. They swung free and I cupped each
one with a hand. I alternately kissed and nibbled each nipple to full attention.
This succeeded in driving Sheila crazy. She grabbed the back of my head and
burried my face in her ample tits. I pulled back enough to allow room to
breath, and continued to nibble on her nipples. (more…)

He was shopping in a department store. He’d been there for two hours and
he was bored and drowsy. He was in the hardware department, looking for
some obscure sprinkler attachment. He wanted to get out of there, go home,
and kick back. Suddenly there was an intense flash in his peripheral
vision of a pretty women disappearing down an aisle. He followed her
greedily.

She was a teenager. She was showing off her sun-tanned legs by wearing
short shorts. She walked gracefully like a cat. Her flawless bronze skin
flowed over curves and muscles. She wore sandals on her small feet, with
long decorative laces that criss-crossed up around her ankles and calves
like bondage straps, and were finally tied with an elaborate bow just below
the knee. Her toenails were painted carefully. The tops of her feet were
just as dark brown and smooth as her legs, but the bottoms were cream-
colored and crinkly. He stared hungrily at her high-arched insteps; the
border where the color and texture changed. For some reason those dainty
two-tone feet of hers fascinated him like nothing else. (more…)

Part of me wanted Alex with me, but part of me was glad I was doing this
on my own. I parked the car, stepped out into the hot July sun, and
walked up the block towards the small jewelry store I’d found. As I
approached the store, I thought about Alex. He was a good man, but over
the last few years, our relationship had grown a bit stale. We’d talked
about it, on and off, but I can’t say anything much had come of our
talks, and on a few occasions, I’d even thought about divorce.

My thoughts skittered in another direction as I stepped into the cool
shade of the store. What was I doing? Proper middle-aged housewives
don’t do things like this. “Why not?” part of me wondered. “Why not!”
another part of me asserted. I’d had this fantasy for a long time, and
now that I knew I could make it real, I was sure I’d never forgive myself
if I didn’t do it. (more…)

I watched Arnet suck her thick milkshake through a straw, she
puckered like a fish. Prickly’s makes the best, thickest shakes this
side of Screw City and the best, but from my perspective, it was
better to watch a girl suck the phallic straw. Arnet stopped to
gasp for air and looked up. Her forest-green eyes stared me
down.
“You like?” she asked.
“I like.”
She smiled. Arnet had a beautiful mouth. She had the classic
D-smile. Her lower lips were much fuller and more round than her
thinner upper lip, so when she smiles, you see a cute crescent of
ivory teeth. Beautiful like sunshine, she was. Quickly tucking a
strand of coppery hair behind her delicate ear, she went back to
attempting to inhale solid with her chest heaving and bellowing:
soft breasts, round and full. If not for her bustier, they
probably would have been a bit top heavy. But with, she was a
bomb. (more…)

I’ve been dying to tell someone about this. I don’t dare share it with
my wife, my friends, or business associates. It’s like a Priest sinking
a hole in one (apologies to those not familiar with Golf) on Sunday…
Who could he tell? I’ve been married for 15 years, got kids, and have a
good sex life with my wife. I fantasize about other women from time to
time, but I’ve never had an affair… Before now that is…

On Thanksgiving weekend I was driving around town I own a scanner
(radio), and was listening to police, fire, and medical stuff, run of
the mill. Something prompted me to punch in a bank with cordless phone
frequencies (programmed weeks before). I hadn’t gone two blocks when I
picked up a conversation between two women talking about their sex
lives. The signal faded so I stopped the car and backed up till it came
in strong. (more…)

Actually, MY fantasy is to be on a stage with a lot of people watching
me dance naked. In my fantasy, the guys hoot and holler, making very lewd
and suggestive remarks about what they’d like to do to me in bed. I dance
alone for a while, shaking my tits in their faces, or bending over in front
of them close enough for them to try to lick my pussy. They all chicken out
at the last minute though, and this makes be bolder and hotter the longer I
dance.
I have in mind one of those semi-round stages, with a short, straight
runway straight out from the stage. I start out dressed in a skirt and
blouse, and quickly lose my clothes to stand completely nude before every-
one. (more…)

Marguerite stood on her toes and craned her neck, trying to catch
a glimpse of Edouard. He had just arrived from a long business trip,
and she had been very lonely without him. The 7 years they had been
together had dulled neither of their passion, and she could feel the
familiar wetness between her legs as she thought of lying next to his
strong, muscular body again. What exciting times they had had, nights
that had seemed too short to contain their ardor, and sunshine-filled
days. Although he was a well-respected white businessman and she a
mere quadroon woman, condemned to spend the rest of her life at the
fringes of real society, he had never treated her with anything but
the utmost respect. (more…)

We lay trembling and weak in sexual relief fopr a few moments,
and then redressed. We didn’t speak. It seemed rather
embarrassing now that we were finished, so we hurried our dressing
and then made our way back to the parking lot. He squeezed my hand
once before he disappeared into the night, and I remember his
parting words. “Catch you on the flip flop. My handle is Night
Runner.” I didn’t mind the abrupt ending. I knew that I would
indeed see this man on the flip flop, and I intended to make a
habit of catching him on the flip flop.

So, I arrived promptly at midnight, and
guess who had beaten me there: two of my four goonish brothers.
It took all the convincing I could muster to convince these boys
to refrain from smashing the man to a pulp, but eventually I did.
As they left, I turned to apologize, thinking that the man
wouldn’t have anything to do with me now that my brothers had
threatened his life. I was disappointed because the man was very
attractive. I started to speak, and he reached up and touched my
lips with his fingertips. It was like an electric shock struck my
body, and we suddenly melded into one another’s arms and, from
there, in to my rig.
I don’t know what happened to me, but somehow I couldn’t
resist his advances as he groped my tits, and mauled my pussy
through my jeans. The next thing I knew, my pants were down around
my ankles along with my panties. I felt like a schoolgirl as he
buried his face in my bush, and I was burning all over as he
tounged my clit furiously. I grabbed two handfuls of his hair and
rode his mouth to ecstasy and back.

I knew I was in for it when I met my wife, Mandy, at the
restaurant yesterday. First of all, she wasn’t late like she
usually is. In fact, she was there ahead of me, and had already
been seated. I liked the booth she’d selected. Mandy always picks
the booth that pleases her. It’s part of the privilege of eating
out, she claims.
At any rate, this booth was at the very back of the
restaurant. Immediately on the booth’s left was a huge window
overlooking a park. The window was at the very edge of our table,
so we had an excellent view of the rose gardens and any joggers who
happened by. (more…)

Captivity, Week 18.

I should probably label this ‘0058, then, shouldn’t I? I bet the
new year’s come and gone without my really noticing; After all, I
haven’t really been watching the news.

Okay, so I haven’t written anything in here in over a month. I was
stuck in bed, what do you want? A daily log of everything I ate, drank,
and read? Forget it!

I’m up and about, and yes, I’m back to working on the Shirow,
although admittedly I’m still getting about on crutches and have a
rib-wrap still on; They aren’t fully healed. I was pleased to know
that the PFusion pack came on line in four weeks, just like clockwork,
and was giving out sufficient power to operate the Shirow at full
capacity. Not that I was going to need full capacity, there was nothing
to shoot at, so I removed most of the hardpoints and the HUD.

Yes, I’m still wearing the .45, although I have yet to fire it. It
was in my clothes when Brieanna let me get up. She never questioned my
posessing it. After all, most people own them, and know how to use
them. It’s part of what makes this world so peaceful. Who’s going to
start a fight when your opponent is equally or better armed?

And if he does, there are enough bystanders who don’t want to
become statistics to take care of the problem.

I’ve disabled the arms and legs until I get into the damned thing.
I think that’s a reasonable attitude to take towards the armor. After
all, it was my stupid program bug that caused the thing to try and kill
me.

As for the kiss, well… We haven’t talked about in the month since
it happened. It’s almost like it never happened. I said almost.
Brie’s attituted towards me has changed, a little. She’s nicer to me, I
think. She’s certainly around more often.

I got my Shakespeare back, too. Managed to find another VHR
somewhere in the house. It’s almost like things I need appear, but
always in an inappropriate form. Like the fusion repair stuff, or the
servos that I ripped out of a maintainence unit to fix the neck of the
armor. In any event, I’m not watching Shakespeare so much, now…I’ve
moved on the greek tragedy. Oh, and I finished all three of Halleck’s
books. Good stuff, especially The Assassin’s Guidebook. Not that I’m
planning on killing anyone, like I said.

And why is everything in the house so… so old? Like, why a
VCDHR? Why not just a bubble card player? Why does everything in the
place use moving parts? Almost like they’re designed to… break down.

That’s it. Oh, shit, why did I never see it before?

That’s what this place is for. That’s why Brieanna is around so
rarely. So that when things break, I’m the only one around to fix them.

It’s to make me feel useful. Therapy. Positive-work therapy.
That’s what this whole place is. Even Brieanna is part of that. And
the .45. Props to make me feel useful. Attempts to get me do things.

So what do I do? Abandon everything, confront Brieanna, take off,
or just go on?

I’ll tell you what I plan on doing. I plan on going on, that’s for
sure. I want to finish this powered armor. I also want to get a little
better at the flute, although the more I play it the more sure I am that
I should go back to keyboards. And, I’m going to confront her.

May as well.

In the Spring.