Brad had met Angie in college. He’d actually heard the other guys in the fraternity talking about her, about how she’d blown every single one of them when they took her out. Like any immature college kid, he’d gone running to find her. A sure thing was a sure thing, and when the sure thing was a blowjob, real men didn’t pass it up.
She was pointed out to him by an upperclassman, and he was extremely surprised when he first saw her. She was a tiny, delicate, demure looking latina. The first time he saw her she was headed for church, wearing a lace shawl over her shoulders that looked to be a hundred years old. She was wearing a very expensive dress and shoes that probably cost as much as his car had. He watched her as she entered the Cathedral on campus, slipping the shawl over her head. He decided then and there that the guys were trying to set him up as a gag. He decided he wouldn’t play.
The next semester he found himself sitting next to Angie in class. She dressed like the other girls, was, funny and outgoing. He found himself very attracted to her, and eventually asked her out. Their first evening had not progressed very far before she had his cock out, sucking it deep into her hot mouth. She was very vocal, telling him how much she loved the taste and the feel of it. She also let him know just how to touch her hard little nipples…and she showed him just exactly how she liked her smoothly shaved pussy rubbed.
She had let go of his swollen cock for a few moments, pulled her jeans and panties off, and turned on the lamp in his room. She smiled at him and said only, “Watch me.” She had taken two fingers and put them in her mouth, then delicately brushed them around the outside of her swollen pussy lips. Angie worked the two fingers closer and closer to the little hooded nubbin that was her clit, then skinned the hood back with her middle finger and rubbed the clit with her forefinger. She threw her head back with a deep breath and slid both fingers into her pussy, rubbing her clit with her thumb. She hissed at him as she came, staring into his eyes, “This is what I like!” Angie pounced naked back onto his now quivering cock, sucking deeply at it. Brad had never had his entire cock in a girl’s mouth before.
Admittedly, he was no pornstar, but the nine or so inches and considerable girth sank into her mouth fully without ever making her gag.
When he quickly began to shoot against the working muscles of her throat, he fully expected her to take it out and finish him with her hand, like the two or three other girls in his experience had done. Not Angie, she just grabbed his balls and hung on. She swallowed his cum as if she were dying of thirst.
The guys teased him for waiting so long, but they all alerted him to the same dismal fact…Angie almost never dated the same guy twice. He was depressed. A couple of weeks went by and Angie finally asked him why he hadn’t asked her out again. He was honest with her and told her about his frat brothers and his conversations with them. He figured that honesty wouldn’t cost him anything in this case because she wasn’t known for dating a guy more than once.
The next thing he knew, found himself sitting outside in the Grove with her, leaning back against one of the giant, moss hung trees in the bright sunshine. They shared a soft drink and a chicken salad sandwich they had picked up at the Student Union snack bar and talked. Brad told her of his ordinary middle class upbringing in Northeast Mississippi. Angie’s story was different to say the least.
She had been born south of the border in an incredibly poor town in the Mexican state of Chiapas. Her mother had died of cholera when she was ten years old. Her father and two brothers had worked long, backbreaking hours to make enough cash to keep them all literally on a starvation diet in a rented hovel. She loved her papa and her brothers, and did whatever she could to make their life easier. She cleaned the house, cooked, did the dishes and washed their clothes. She was the only one who could read, because she was the only one who could go to the mission school. Angie was matter of fact in her description of her life, neither seeking nor expecting sympathy. Brad was fascinated, and found himself falling in love. They kissed under the spreading branches of the oaks, and by sunset he was lost.
They dated exclusively through their sophomore and junior years. He was happy enough, he remembered the tales he had been told by his frat brothers and he was young enough to fear sharing her. In the meantime, he had been kept exhausted. She had a very open, curious, and inventive mind. She never ran off shopping like most of the other girls when the guys turned on the porn in the “Common Room” in the basement of the big white columned frat house. She would snuggle up close to him in a dark corner or on the monstrously large sofa and watch them with him. Her comments (whispered in his ear) invariably enlarged his erections, and she always found methods to touch him, rub him, or tease him in some way. The winters were best, because they could cover up with a blanket and she would slip her hand inside his pants, squeezing his cock.
On more than one occasion she had slipped beneath the covers and sucked him till he came for her. On one really memorable occasion they had too much to drink at the New Year’s party and she had blown him on the coffee table in front of everyone at the party. Not that they were the only ones, more than one couple was actively engaged in some type of sexual act at that party…they’d nearly lost their charter because of the party. They were, however, the only ones who received a standing ovation for their performance.
The end of their senior year was approaching fast, and he decided to ask her to marry him. Her short answer, “No!” had shocked him. She refused to talk to him about it, and they split up for weeks. He started losing sleep and his grades started falling. He lost weight, he drank too much. Finally, one of his brothers approached her and told her what was happening.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” she asked him on the sidewalk in front of the Student Union. He was a mess. His clothes hung loosely on his already lean frame, his hair was unruly, and he had bags under his eyes. “What difference does it make to you?” he asked her blearily, looking at her through bloodshot eyes. She stood quietly in front of him, clasping her books in both hands “Because I love you” she said. “You’ve got a helluva way of showing it!” he told her. She grabbed his hand and dragged him towards our tree. “We need to talk” she said.
Angie threw her books to the ground, and pushed his back to the battered old oak. Grabbing his shoulders, she forced him to the ground, sitting astride his lap so that her dark brown eyes would be level with his own. “I do love you,” she said, “and that’s why I can’t marry you.” “That makes absolutely no sense at all…” he began. She shushed him with a forefinger to his lips. She began to recount everything he’d ever told her about his family and his upbringing. Fourth of July, Christmas, Thanksgiving with his family, his proms, tennis at the Country Club, even the church he was barely active in. “Do you remember telling me all those things?” she asked him.
He nodded, not understanding the need to rehash his life. She kissed him slowly and softly, climbing off his lap, for the first time not wanting to stare into his eyes. “Have you ever wondered why I love to have a cock in my mouth? Why the taste of cum is good to me? I know I’m not like other girls.” Her voice faltered as he tried to talk, “No, let me finish” she said.
“My papa was a lonely man after my mama died. He worked so hard and so long. He never ate until after my brothers and I did, and no matter how late we had to stay up, he was always the last to go to sleep. He only drank his tequila or smoked when some friend of his would drop by and share on weekends when the work had been good and there was extra money. There was only the one room in the house, so we all slept in the same room, though we scattered about. When he thought we were all asleep, some nights my papa would cry.” He glanced at her face and, though she looked sad, there was no trace of tears, only a fierce gleam.
“I told my friend Nina about it at school, and she told me to get my papa a girlfriend. I wasn’t sure what difference that would make and she told me. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, I was so shocked. What she described sounded so outlandish that I didn’t believe her at first. She quickly called over some of the other girls to verify what she was telling me.
There was soon a large group of us giggling and laughing, each tying to tell a racier story than the last. One of the girls, Maria Alvarez, suddenly quieted us all down. She said that her papa wouldn’t even try to get a girlfriend because they couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. Several of the older girls were shaking their heads in agreement. Maria said that since her papa couldn’t try to find a bride, she had decided to take care of her papa herself. Most of us were shocked into silence, but again, I saw some of the other girls nodding in approval. We all were a little awed, because one of the things the Sisters were constantly lecturing about was the sanctity of our virginity. When asked about that mortal sin, Maria laughed. She told us that as long as her hymen was intact, she was a virgin. There were other ways, she whispered, to take care of her papa’s needs.”
“We all leaned forward to hear her quiet voice,” Angie said, “as she explained how a girl could use her hands, her lips, her breasts (though none of us had any yet) and her ass to satisfy a man, to make the white stuff shoot from the end of a man’s penis and make him happy. She said once she had made her papa understand that she wanted him to be happy and that she was proud to finally be more than just an empty mouth to feed, that her papa had become almost normal. She also said blushingly, that it helped to keep her brothers in line too. I looked around me and saw that very few of the other girls were shocked, that they seemed to find this a perfectly sensible solution to a seemingly insurmountable problem. I made up my mind.”
Angie still refused to look at Brad, though no trace of tears appeared on her face. “I went to the village pump and got extra water to bathe with after school was out, and I went home and washed myself all over. When my papa and brothers came home, I had supper ready for them to eat, and water for them to wash with even though it was only Wednesday. I lay on my pallet in my nightshirt until my brothers slept.
Papa thought I was asleep too, so he went to his own pallet after washing. He wore only a pair of the loose white linen pants that I had washed for him when I got home from the mission school. He sat for a while and lay down on his mat, and I very quietly went to him. I stood before him as he lay there, and I shrugged the nightshirt from my shoulders. He looked at me, completely at a loss for words.”
Angie again looked at him again. “That night I learned what it was like to suck a cock, and to feel the warmth of sticky cum in my mouth. I also learned what a joy it was to be able to bring peace and happiness to a man who had so little. At first he was consumed with guilt, but I told him what Maria had said about keeping her hymen intact and remaining a virgin. I never slept alone in that hovel again, and my Papa didn’t cry any more. I learned that first winter that after the first few times, it doesn’t hurt any more to have a cock in your ass. I also learned that my brothers hurt from the same need of a woman’s touch. I remember that winter as the most joyous time of my life. My papa and my brothers sang to me and treated me like a queen. We had no more to eat, and no luxuries at all, but we were happy and we were together. We lived like that until the hurricane took all three of them the same day.”
Her eyes finally filled with tears as she remembered the death of her family. “I am not ashamed of what I did,” she said, “I loved my papa and my brothers and I made them happy, I kept myself from being their burden to carry and became the joy of their lives.” She wiped away her tears. “When I was adopted by the Andersons, wealthy farmers in the Mississippi Delta, I had more than I ever dreamed I would have…but a year later Mrs. Anderson died and Mr. Anderson had a mild stroke. I cared for him until he died. I sold what was left after his medical expenses and came to school here. There will just be enough left for me to live until I find a decent job. It won’t be much, but I can get by.”
“Brad,” she said, “there’s no way I can marry you and fit in with your parents and the lifestyle you’ve had all your life. I’ve blown half your fraternity brothers. I’m not ashamed of living half my life in an incestuous relationship with my father and brothers. I’m proud of what I did, and I’m not going to hide from it or pretend it didn’t happen. Imagine what’s going to happen when your parents or your sisters find out! There’s no way I’m going to marry you and destroy what you have with your own family.”
Brad knew she spoke the truth. His mother would hemorrhage at simply hearing Angie’s story. His father would disown him. “We can leave” he said, “go away to California or Utah or somewhere.” “Brad,” she said, “haven’t you figured out by now that in the thousands of years of civilization by man the only thing we truly know for sure is that family is everything?” It was thirty years before he saw her again.
Brad Hawkins was lying on the beach with a tropical drink in his hand. It wasn’t his first. He reflected that he was probably headed for a serious alcohol problem…but it wasn’t really that important anymore was it? Ten months before a giant tornado had struck his home in Mississippi before going on into Alabama and Georgia to ruin more lives. When it left, it had taken his wife and two daughters, his parents, and his only living sister with it.
There had been nothing left, his business, his home, his parents’ home where his family had lived for over a hundred years, and everything he had known since his childhood was gone. He lived in an agony of guilt in the FEMA trailer they had placed on his property for a couple of months before the insurance check finally arrived. He had been on a business trip in Atlanta when the tornado struck. His entire family was at his parents’ house for a barbecue when the tornado struck out of nowhere. Their remains had been found in his dad’s storm cellar.
After the funeral expenses and the sale of the lands left to him, Brad was a millionaire several times over. He didn’t care. He drowned his feelings of guilt in oceans of Crown Royal one afternoon and he’d awakened to find himself in Destin, Florida. He’d never left. There was nothing at home for him, not a thing from his past to take him back at all.
He finished off the colorful drink and signaled to the sweet young bikini clad waitress for another. “Brad!” he reflexively looked up at the sound of his name. He couldn’t find the source of the voice, though for a moment it sounded familiar. A young man in his late twenties came running up from the beach, bending over to pick up a beach towel right in front of him. The young man looked familiar.
The faint smell of a perfume made from jasmine wafted past his nose. Brad looked inside the drink in his hand and sniffed it. This was like one of those movies where everything came back to the guy with amnesia. “Brad!” Damn it, he knew that voice. He turned to see a well- tanned woman of about his own age reach for the familiar man. She was dressed all in white, with a large white sun hat and dark glasses. There was no mistaking that face, and now he knew where he knew the voice from. The last thing he heard before he passed out was that same voice saying “watch me.”
When he awakened he was staring up into his own face, even though it was a younger version, it was his own face. Angie knelt with them, holding his hand as the young man tilted his head up to give him the lukewarm water brought by the anxious young waitress. “Angie?” he asked. Tears were in her eyes as she nodded. “What…” he started. She silenced him with a touch of her forefinger and said, “You shouldn’t talk right now. You’re dehydrated, you’ve had way too much to drink, and I believe you’ve just had a terrible shock.”
“We can get Mr. Hawkins back to his room” the waitress said, and we’ll have the hotel doctor come by and check him over. She stood aside as two young giants helped him to his feet. “I’m ok guys, but thanks.” “They have to at least go with you Mr. Hawkins, it’s hotel policy” she told him. “I’ll come with you Brad” Angie said. She kissed the young man’s cheek and told him she’d meet him later. She patted his shoulder “I know, you have questions” she said, “I’ll explain to you later, at dinner.”
Brad entered his room with Angie close behind him. “This is beautiful” she said “and so big”, taking off her hat. The air conditioning felt wonderful after the heat of the beach. “Is your family here with you?” she asked. For the first time since the funerals, he broke down and cried like a baby.
“And there was nothing left?” she asked him quietly. He nodded, “absolutely nothing. Almost fifty years of my life, and all I have is six tombstones to show for it.” He reached for the fresh bottle of Crown Royal on the coffee table before him. “Would you like a drink?” he asked. “Brad, that’s not going to bring then back” she said. He set the bottle back on the coffee table, “I know, and it really doesn’t help the hurt very much either.”
“Why didn’t you tell me I had a son?” he asked. She hung her head, not wanting to look him in the face. “I was wrong” she said, “but I couldn’t tell you.” “You were so young, so proud” she sniffed and touched her handkerchief to her eyes. “When you spoke of your home, your family, and going back to the life you had planned there. There was no room for me, no room for a child. I couldn’t bear the thought of you giving that life up to run away with me, away from the roots you held so dear.” He reached for her, to comfort her, but she held him back. “And I was furious with you because you wouldn’t” she laughed through her tears.
He laughed with her. “Life was so simple then” he said. “Everything was either black or white, no need to complicate things by adding the grays of reality.” We could have run away, you from the hardness of your life, me from the responsibilities I had inherited. “I’m so sorry” he said, but you had to have known I would have helped if you’d just told me.” “You’re still sweet” she touched his face, “but by the time I had Brad I had a plan and enough anger and determination to see it through.”
They spoke for hours, as twilight fell and they watched it from the deck of the penthouse suite. “Oh my God,” she said, “I’ve got to meet Brad for dinner. I promised to explain to him…I know he knows…you look too much alike!” He offered to go with her, but she said she thought this would be something she could do better alone. She promised to come back as soon as she could. He stood and held her “You’ve got to promise I can meet him, offer him some kind of explanation.” She kissed him softly and he was transported back to Ole Miss, to the Grove where she’d kissed him the first time. The shock went through both of them. She pulled back, surprised, and then promised she would try to set something up. When she left, he headed for a long soak and a shave. He was whistling.
She returned about eleven o’clock. Brad had had to quickly run to the Silver Sands Factory outlet in Sandestin to buy some clothes that fit. His liquid diet and lack of interest in eating had at least burned off some of the middle aged lard he had added over the years. He had nothing that fit him at all. He met her dressed business casual, and all in all he looked better than he had in years. He felt better than he had since the tornado.
She looked approvingly at him as she entered the penthouse. “There will be some rough going over the next few days,” she said, “but he’ll come around. He’s a good man.” Brad poured a stem of champagne for her and they went out on the patio deck in the moonlight. “It was still hard” she said. “I’d never told him anything about you except that I’d loved you.” “No husband?”, he asked, looking at her bare ring finger. “No husband, but many men” she laughed. “I’ve never loved any man but you and my papa and brothers” she said, gazing at him over the champagne glass. She walked to him and kissed him, and they were swamped with emotion. Her nipples hardened and showed through the white dress. He grew an erection harder than he’d known in years.
She backed away, “This is going too fast” she said. He stepped forward. “Angie, we’re almost fifty years old, nothing is fast any more. I won’t lie to you, I loved my wife. I still miss her so much it hurts every single day. I never forgot you though, and she knew it. She came to accept you as an invisible part of our marriage, even though it wasn’t fair to her.” He kissed her again, slowly, tasting the same woman he’d known thirty years before, remembering her touch, her taste, her heat. “Brad, I haven’t bathed, I’m wearing the same dress I’ve had on all day…” He silenced her the only way he could.
He carried her in his arms over to the huge hot tub on the patio deck. When he set her down, she looked into the tub. “Turn the bubbles on” she said. When he turned back from his chore she was standing nude in the moonlight. Her long dark hair was casually pushed to one side, hanging over one of her breasts. Her belly was hard and flat in the moonlight, and her dark eyes shone.
She sat before him on the edge of the tub, lifting one of her heels up beside her ass. “Remember this?” she asked as she lifted two fingers to her mouth. He literally shivered as he remembered the long ago day when he’d first seen her do this. “Watch me” she said. As she began to toy with her bald pussy, he ripped off his brand new clothes and threw them on the deck. She slid back in the now rapidly bubbling water, beckoning him to follow.
When he stood inside the tub she launched herself at his swollen member, taking it down to the root. He wrapped his hands in her hair and hung on as best he could. She never came up for air, she never backed off his cock an inch. Her tongue and her throat muscles coaxed him to an unbelievable release. Months of stored up cum boiled into her throat but she stayed with him, holding his balls in both hands.
They drained the bottle of champagne and talked of old times, comfortable with each other. So much had passed them by, but it seemed as if they had always been together. She could still make his blood race, and frequently during their nightlong conversation they had to stop talking and fuck. She couldn’t keep her hands or mouth off his penis for more than a few minutes at a time, and he couldn’t stop fondling her breasts or running his finger between her legs. When the sun crept over the horizon, it found them in his plush king sized bed, his cock deep inside her ass. She was moaning his name, fingers grasping at the sheets, begging him to cum in her tight hole. She came with him, and he lay on top of her, softening but still inside. He started to get off of her, but she begged him to stay. They fell asleep, still connected, exhausted and smiling.
He awakened to the aroma of fresh coffee and salt air. He could hear the gulls cry, so he knew Angie was on the patio deck. He quickly padded naked to the shower. He shaved and put on new clothes…the man he saw in the mirror in no way resembled the sad drunk he had awakened to the day before. He found Angie sitting on a chaise outside, gazing at the clear emerald green waters of the Gulf of Mexico, sipping from a steaming mug of coffee.
She smiled at him and he bent to kiss her. It was a soft loving kiss that spoke volumes to her. “Sit down with me my darling” she said. He sat and she poured him a mug of the coffee from a carafe on the table beside her. He breathed deeply over the mug, the coffee fine and strong. They sat for a long time listening to the gulls as they wheeled overhead and watched the waves crashing on the beach. “It is so peaceful here” she said. “I love it,” Brad told her, “and I love you.” His hand reached out to hers. She set her mug down on the table and took both his hands in hers. She bent close to him, “Brad, don’t start making plans or promises. I know how we parted, and I don’t feel any different right now than I did then. A long time has passed and we are not the same, no matter how familiar last night felt.”
She shuddered, “God how familiar.” His hand stroked her long dark hair. “I’ve nothing to go back to, my home is gone, my life has been swept clean. Before I saw you and Brad yesterday, I was contemplating a short life involving drinking myself to death. When I woke up today, my first thought was that you are still as amazing as you were thirty years ago. My second thought was that I have a son now, and I want to get to know him” Brad told her seriously. “I’m hearing what you’re saying about time having passed, but I’ve always loved you and that’s not going to change.” She smiled gently at him. “We will see” she said. They called their son and arranged to meet him for a late breakfast at a nearby cafe.
The meeting was awkward at first. Father and son didn’t know whether to shake hands or hug. They settled for the handshake and the shy introduction Angie made. The son had attended Mississppi State instead of Ole Miss, and had majored in Computer Science. Brad noticed the fraternity pin on his son’s collar and flashed the fraternity’s secret sign. His son stopped talking in mid-sentence and gave the response. They shared the fraternity handshake and Brad spoke first.
“I’ll be damned, I didn’t know they still passed all that stuff along these days” he said. His son, grinning, said they certainly did and the next few minutes passed easily for them. They found common ground in their interests, and an animated conversation ensued. Even their taste in breakfast was similar, both loving cheese omelettes, biscuits, and grits. Angie sat eating her grapefruit and sipping her coffee, enjoying herself hugely.
“He liked you” she said. “He seems to be a fine man” Brad told her,” I don’t know how you managed it on your own.” They spent the whole day together, making love, swimming, lying on the beach.
They met their son for dinner, and truly had a wonderful time. He had to excuse himself early because he had a date with the waitress who had helped them on the beach the day before. The two men hugged as they separated for the evening.
Brad nuzzled Angie’s neck as he reached around her waist and then raised his hands to cup her full breasts. “Our son has good taste in women” he said. “I know,” Angie said, “if I could have gotten her alone before he did I would have tried to seduce her myself.” Brad turned Angie in his arms, one eyebrow comically arched, “You like women too?”
“Brad, I told you, it’s been a long time and we are different people now than we were.” She sat on the chaise, patted the cushion beside her and indicated for him to sit. “While you have been in your quiet little corner of Mississippi, I’ve been in Los Angeles. I told you, there have been many men, but I have changed my love, and you don’t know me any more. That is why I asked you not to make any promises or plans yet.” “Am I going to need a drink for this conversation?” he asked. “Yes my darling, I think we both will.” She stood, and with the woman’s magic they all seem to be born with, she reached behind her and unfastened her dress. It fell to the deck unnoticed. “Bring the Crown Royal and meet me at the hot tub,” she gave him a wicked smile, “I’ll turn on the bubbles!”
He returned to the hot tub with a new bottle, two glasses, and a full crystal ice bowl. He set the tray down on the little table. She began to make their drinks while he undressed. Her nude body was even more enticing to him than it had been back in college. Slender, she was little more than five and a half feet tall. She was willowy, with slender legs and hips, and her firm upright breasts were just a little too full for such a slender body. Her dark skin was smooth and unlined, and when she moved she was graceful. The dark hair framing her high cheekboned face was amazingly erotic as it swung back and forth.
She offered him his drink, then bent to kiss his penis. “Now that we have calmed him down a little, we can have a serious talk” she said. “I am going to tell you a little of what I’ve become, and who I am now. I don’t want you to interrupt me, even though I’m sure I will shock you…I’m not a little immigrant girl from Southern Mississippi anymore and I’m not ever going to be again” she said quietly, and then sipped from her drink. “Do you think you can do that?” He nodded, serious and a little apprehensive now. “Good. Now you can sit over here and I will sit over here. That way you will be sure to pay attention to what I’m saying instead of playing with my breasts!” she laughed in a low throaty voice.
They sat facing each other, one of her knees between his knees, feet flat on the bottom of the tub. She took another sip of her drink, and then took a deep breath.
“I didn’t even wait for graduation, I left campus as soon as I finished my last exams. I sold what little I had, along with that raggedy little Plymouth, and bought a bus ticket to Los Angeles. I did not yet know that I was carrying Brad. I got off the bus in downtown L.A. and immediately headed for Venice Beach with my rucksack and what little cash I had left. That afternoon, as I watched the sights there I met a man in a wheelchair, a man in his fifties with graying hair and wearing a white Panama Suit. He was so charming.”
“He seemed to sense that I was brand new to L.A. and he soon had me telling him my life’s story. He was attentive and kind while I spoke. As it got later in the afternoon, he realized that I had no place to go. He explained to me that he had only recently been confined to the wheelchair, unable to walk and care for himself because his muscular dystrophy had advanced so far. To make a long story short, he offered me a job as his housekeeper and I took it. We were picked up by a long white limousine and taken to his home.”
“I worked for him, keeping an eye out for something available in my field of study, but he was paying me more than most of those entry jobs were paying. I had a suite of rooms in a magnificent house overlooking the ocean, and free use of his Porsche since he could no longer drive it. There was a cook and a driver for his limo and me living with him in the house. When the cook left, I found out what she had been doing for him…and I almost left. He explained to me that she got women to visit him and take care of his ‘personal needs’ and made sure they got to the house and were paid for their services. He was very nice about it, and told me that I was perfectly free to refuse it, but that if I wanted to take her place he would double what I was already making.”
“By that time I knew for sure that I was pregnant, and I told him. He told me that it wouldn’t make any difference, and that I was welcome to stay. He gave me a hug and said that he would enroll the staff in a health insurance program, and that he would cover the costs. That was the first time he ever touched me.”
“At least once a week he would send me to a private club to pick a woman, sometimes two women, to bring home to ‘visit’ with him. He described his taste, or ‘flavor of the week’ as he laughingly called it, and I would find them and bring them to the house. Sometimes I watched from the security cameras in the house, sometimes I listened from the hallway. You know how I am, and how strong my appetites are” she smiled at Brad,” and I soon found myself masturbating as I watched. It wasn’t long before I saw two of the ‘visitors” in a sixty-nine. I had heard of girls doing each other, but I had only seen it in some of those ridiculous porn movies you guys had in the frat house.”
In spite of Angie’s deliberate attempt to hold Brad at bay while she talked, her knee slid down in the water and he felt her toes exploring his penis under the water. “When the sixty-nine stopped, they began to kiss and fondle each other, almost in his lap. It was the most erotic thing I have ever seen. I dropped my shorts and buried my fingers in my pussy. When the blonde one stopped kissing her partner, she rose up to kiss my employer while her partner licked her pussy. I came, very hard, bucking in my chair in the security room.”
“I always watched after that. Sometimes he would even call in his driver to fuck one or both of the ‘visitors’. I watched every kind of sex act you can imagine in that room, and when the pressure got too intense, I would go to Venice Beach and pick up a stranger to fuck. I got crazy, I tried things I could never have imagined by myself. Things turned me on that I knew should not, and I reveled in it. I never got into pain or bondage, but I became enamored of it at the threshold level.” Her dark brown eyes bored into Brad’s, “I like to be tied up and teased till I can no longer restrain myself. I like to be tied up and forced to watch the man I’m with fuck someone else until my pussy is sucking for air. I like to be watched while I’m doing whatever I’m doing with whoever I’m doing it with. Again, to make a long story short, I’ve become a very dirty girl. I’m not going to change, I like myself the way I am…and I’m not sure you will be able to deal with that.”
Her foot was now stroking the length of his cock, which was impossibly swollen. He was verging on orgasm and his breathing was ragged. “Ah my love,” she said, leaning forward to grasp his hard organ in her hand, ”this is how you react now, but how will you react when I make you sit on the bed and watch while I suck some college boy’s dick, or let him stick his dick in my ass?” Brad’s cock jerked in her hand. “How will you feel if some young woman you find hot is lying beneath me as I suck someone else’s cum out of her pussy? What would you do if you found your wife with her tongue in another man’s ass, with another man in her pussy and yet another in fucking her own ass?” His cock began to spray cum, and she ducked her head under water to catch it all. She surfaced a moment later, opening her mouth to breathe in, and he could see his cum on her tongue. She smiled and rubbed his cum around in her mouth with her fingers before she swallowed it.
She reached for her drink and swallowed half of it before she climbed on his lap, his cock still hard. Angie reached between them and guided his dick to her ass, and he could feel the puckered flesh give way before he slid in. She sat down on him abruptly, socketing him in place, buried to the hilt in her tight ass. She began to bounce gently, not really sliding him in and out, just causing the flesh on his penis to slide up and down a bit. She wiggled her hips as only a latina can, and pushed a swollen nipple into his mouth. She caressed his hair and whispered into his ear.
“I love only you. I have since the first time I sucked your dick. But I am someone else now, and I can’t live without the things I’ve just told you about. So I’ll ask you this. You think of what I’ve told you, I’ll even show you some of it if you’d like. We will stay here until the end of this week if you want to try. If you still want me at the end of this week, we can take a trial period in L.A., say a year. If you still want me at the end of the trial period I will live with, marry you, be your slave, whatever you want for as long as we live.”
Angie raised up off his cock, and reached down to pull him up. Holding him to her, her face upturned and close to his, she whispered “What do you want?” He raised her slightly, just enough to insert his throbbing cock into her shaved pussy, then pulled her down until he was in as far as it would go. “I’ll do anything you want, anything at all just to spend every day of my life with you” he said. Anything else they might have said was obscured by their hips thrashing in the water as he covered her lips with his own.
“I’ll hold you to our agreement” she murmured as they lay in the king sized bed of the penthouse. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said as they petted and stroked, “but the whole idea has got me really stoked.” She laughed her throaty laugh, “Don’t tell me that until you see some stranger’s cum dripping down my chin.” He pinned her arms above her head and slammed into her pussy, grinding her back against the bed.
Brad was awakened by the brush of Angie’s lips against his own. “Wake up sleepy head” she teased. He could smell the fragrance of her jasmine body oil mixed with the powerful aroma of the fresh dark roast coffee in the mug she carried. “Hurry up and get dressed, I’ve ordered room service for breakfast.” The filmy peignoir she wore rippled when she walked. It was easy to see she wore nothing underneath.
“God I feel great, he said, as, freshly shaved and showered, he stretched on the open deck. She lounged comfortably as she watched him. “That’s good my love, because your first test will take place before your eyes in just a few minutes.” He looked at her in amazement. “You called a hooker this early in the morning?” “No, she said, “someone is going to knock on that door with our breakfast in a few minutes. You are going to calmly eat your breakfast while I fuck whoever it is. Man, woman, young, old, it doesn’t matter.” He choked on his coffee. “Remember our agreement,” she said. “All you can do is watch…” she said, “this time.”
He held his breath as he watched her go to the door of the suite. Her movements became positively feline as she approached the door. She opened it and said “Come in, we’re on the patio deck” in a sultry voice. He watched as she padded back onto the deck, the filmy peignoir completely transparent in the morning sun. A very ordinary young man, most likely one of the college students working here for the summer, rolled the breakfast tray behind her. His cheeks were flushed as he tried, unsuccessfully to keep his eyes off the beautiful nearly nude woman before him. Brad watched, fascinated as he tried to set the table without fumbling at it. He nearly choked with laughter as Angie brushed his arm with a swelling breast, her nipple hardening at the contact. The boy froze when he felt it. “Darling,” Angie said, “he’s done such a wonderful job, don’t you think he deserves a special tip?” Brad smiled a huge smile and said “Absolutely!”
Seated in her chair, Angie ran her hand up the boy’s leg inside his shorts, grabbing his erect cock in her hand and squeezing it firmly. The waiter nearly jumped out of his shorts. He looked frantically at Brad until he realized that Brad made no motion to stop this. “This can’t be happening to me” he thought. “This shit only happens in those stories in the backs of stroke magazines!” All conscious thought fled from his mind as Angie stood, shrugged of the peignoir, and knelt before him. She was fumbling with the front of his shorts.
Brad had a moment where he felt sick to his stomach as he realized that the woman he loved was about to put this guy’s strange cock in her mouth. He watched her pull it out as if he were watching a snake about to strike him. Then he realized his own cock was about to burst through his new shorts, and his breathing was as rapid as the waiter’s. Angie stroked the thick cock with her hand. Her other hand released the waiter’s shorts and they fell around his ankles on the deck. His jutting member, enclosed in Angie’s soft hand, was just in front of her face.
Angie’s eyes, fogged with open lust, were on Brad. She curled her tongue provocatively around the head of the waiter’s swollen dick. She licked the head, she slipped the tip of her pointed tongue into the drooling slit at the top of it. She curled her tongue back into her own mouth, and swallowed. Her eyes never left Brad’s face. She noticed his furtive movement down to his own hard cock, then she turned and swallowed the waiter’s cock all the way down, her nose pressed against his pubic bone. “Oh my God” the waiter breathed. His hips began to jerk, and his cock slid back and forth in her mouth as her tongue licked at him. Brad saw him become absolutely rigid for a moment, then the veins in the waiter’s cock swelled and his ballsack jerked…his cum erupting inside Angie’s sucking mouth. He didn’t even sigh, he simply pulled his shorts back up and practically ran to the door of the suite.
Angie walked slowly and deliberately back to Brad, and knelt at his feet. She opened her mouth and the waiter’s cum dribbled out, down her chin, and onto her breasts. “Can you handle it?” she asked. He threw her back on the deck and covered her instantly, thrusting as hard and as deep as he could. “Fuck… me… harder… baby” Angie moaned in rhythm with his thrusts. Her ankles locked in the small of his back as she helped him push deeper. Her hips met his thrust for thrust. When they were spent, Brad collapsed on her. She bore his full weight joyfully, caressing his hair and telling him she loved him. And so began the rest of their life..