He had never seen anything so white. The nipples
were like the pink sugar cookies his abuelita would make on Sundays. He took
one of her breasts in his hand, and when he nibbled on the tip the caballera
let out a gasp of pleasure.
His
member was painfully stiff. When the lady knelt to unzip him and take him into
her mouth, it was too much for him and he burst. He expected her to be angry,
but instead she kept sucking, swallowing his seed and continuing until he was
hard again. She motioned for him to lie down, then she spread her skirts and
crouched over him, bringing his cock to her opening.
This,
then, was Esteban’s first time, and now he understood why the older muchachos
spoke so endlessly of the wonders of puta. It was like a liquid fire wrapped
around his cock. He wished he could see what it looked like, his staff
disappearing into the caballera’s white body, but there was something just as
stimulating about this mysterious force beneath the pile of skirts, the dreamy
look on the lady’s face as she rode him.
This
time he was able to last much longer. Soon the gringa was shaking, and moaning,
and letting out gritos of her own. He took her by the waist and exploded into
her. As his body subsided, he lay back, leaking into her depths as the yellow
clouds drifted across the sky. He fought the urge to sleep – he wanted so badly
to stay with this pleasure – but inevitably he fell back into slumber.
