Latin Porn Spices

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…)

Isabelle was on her way to the city for a recording session at the new
studio. Tanned hands on the wheel, a chiffon scarf rippling at the
window and gold-rimmed shades: she was satisfied with her appearance
in the way a pretty woman vain enough to spend time in front of the
mirror is bound to be. There was the added consciousness of incipient
stardom. The agent told her over the phone that morning, ‘’This one
is really it, baby! This new guy is great, you’re going to love him.
Got the voice of a god. A real hunk. I’m going to send
you to the top of the charts with this fellow!'’

‘’Hold on, Sam.'’ She had been alarmed by the excitement in her
agent’s voice. He had made impulsive and sometimes foolish
decisions in the past. Isabelle liked to move cautiously,
methodically.
‘’We’d agreed not to decide anything until after we
finished this cut.'’ She spook in a cool, low voice that was both
hypnotic and sexy. ‘’Look Sam, I know we’re going to make it big with
all this—I’m the one who convinced you of that, remember? Now who
is this guy?'’ (more…)

I’d always known my wife had a hot ass; hell, that’s partly
why I married her. Once, when we were still dating, she asked me to
meet her on her lunch hour. She kissed me, sliding her tongue into
my mouth, and said we had to hurry, because she had an appointment.
Within fifteen minutes, she was gasping as I fucked the daylights
out of her against the wall of a stall in a ladies’ room. She was
wearing a business suit, but had very adroitly pulled her skirt up
and her little bikini panties off so I could get my bursting dick
into her. She urged me to fuck her good, to fill her little pussy
with lots and lots of creamy come. Then, without so much as rinsing
off her cunt, she dashed off to her appointment. That evening, she
explained what that thrilling little fuck session had been all
about. She said that two weeks earlier, she’d gotten into a pissing
match with her gynecologist over something or other, but that SHE
had gotten in the last word. (more…)

My wife, Andrea, is still a knock-out at 35. Dark, flaming red hair,
green eyes, great skin and a fantastic body (36C-24-35). She is as close
to a nudist as I’ve ever met. After we were married, I realized how much
she loved wearing nothing or as little as possible around the house and I
loved it.
One day, I came home from work and arrived at the front door at the
same time as the paperboy. He’s a nice, good-looking kid around 15 or 16
and we said our hellos and he gave me the paper. At the same time, Andrea
opened the door and stood there, stark naked! The paperboy got a huge grin
on his face as his eyes took in my wife’s great body. Andrea slammed the
door and the paperboy left with a big smile on his face. (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…)

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…)