It was my friends' fault. They were the ones who organized my bachelor party and they were the ones who decided to hire that escort for a striptease . I had seen similar scenes in the odd comedy movie and, in fact, I had attended a bachelor party enlivened with a striptease. But he had never been the main protagonist of it. Feeling how that stylized mulatto woman with astifino pythons and upturned ass that my friends had hired slowly undressed in front of me and brought her boobs a foot from my face completely upset me.
I had never been unfaithful to my girlfriend and, certainly, I went straight to marriage with the idea of being a model of marital fidelity. At the end of the day, although she has never been too expansive in bed, my Carmen (that's what my saint is called) had always given me what I, sexually speaking, needed. Or so, at least, I had believed up to that point.
It is true that Carmen always had to be encouraged a little, that the intention never left her and that she sometimes showed a somewhat lazy and listless air while she rode me (as if that sex was not entirely with her). But it was also no less true that she had never refused to suck me in the car before leaving her at her parents' house or visiting with me those apartments for hours in the neighborhood where all the couples in the neighborhood who still didn't have an apartment ended up fucking somebody again. Once, even in a display of desire and shamelessness, we had a Caliqueño in one of the dressing rooms of El Corte Inglés.
Why, then, was I unfaithful to her that time, just as I was about to make her my wife? I could use the odd excuse but the truth is that it was out of sheer lust. My Carmen is not bad at all. She has quite a nice face, pretty eyes, and although her ass is a bit droopy and her hips are a bit narrow, she has quite plump tits that are delightful. Cumming on them when I suck her is a great pleasure. But my Carmen wasn't Samantha, of course. Next to Samantha, my Carmen was no more than a typical girl.
Samantha, because that's the name of that mulatto with the barely eighteen years that the bastards of my friends hired for my bachelor party, she was a real hottie: sweet lips, dazzling smile, incendiary look, stunning tits, heart attack ass, tanned skin and soft ... It is what luxury whores have: that you compare them with the relative and, of course, the relative ends up losing hopelessly.
When Samantha finished her striptease number at my bachelor party and left, I was wanting more. He wanted to be naked with her under the shower water. I wanted to have her on all fours and fuck her in the ass. I wanted to feel her ride on top of me. He wanted to have my cock in his mouth. I would have my Carmen for the rest of my life, I remember thinking. Before that, however, he wanted Samantha. I wanted to fuck her. A simple striptease was not enough for me.
I thought the fever would pass over time, but no. The next day, while I was lying on my bed and struggling with the effects of the hangover, I recovered the image of that mulatto woman who had undressed and danced for me and I noticed how much of my blood was rushing to it area of my body. Despite the hangover, I had a powerful erection. My cock was asking me for a date with Samantha. And I said to myself: your whims are orders, little one.
I had never been a whore. Yes, some of my friends had. Most of them had deflowered in a neighborhood whorehouse where for five thousand pesetas of the time you could fuck a lumi. I once went upstairs with them, determined to lose my virginity; But when I saw the whores who worked there, I left without fucking. The five South American entrees in meats that Madame presented us did not appeal to me in the least. I didn't even let them give me a blowjob. It all seemed very cold to me. I imagine it was much more romantic than I am now. Whore adolescence. Whore first youth. Luckily, shortly after I met my Carmen. It was she who deflowered me on her parents' sofa. It was she who introduced me to the joys of sex. It was with her that I got married and it was she that I asked to marry.
And she was going to be the one he was going to cheat on with a whore.
I phoned my friend Enrique. He, an inveterate whore, had been the one who had hired Samantha. It was he who told me at the farewell that the mulatto woman who was keeping me awake was not only a cute girl who did stripteases to get extra money: she was a luxury whore, an escort, someone he could hire to fuck. He was, finally, the one who gave me Samantha's contact number.
She was just as sweet answering the phone as she had been doing the striptease and saying goodbye to me. A real charm. When he spoke, it seemed as if his voice was already stroking your balls. That he could receive me in his private apartment, he told me.
You'll see, love; we will be very comfortable. I have a little mirror on the ceiling that gives a lot of play and a shower full of jets in which you and I can shower, close together, before going to bed. Yesterday I was wanting you. The lump you had under your pants was very promising, darling. He seemed very unruly. How cute it must be to have that unruly little thing in your mouth. I think about it and I'm already licking myself.
Needless to say, by now my cock was about to explode. When I hung up, I jerked off until my balls were empty. He was meeting Samantha the next day. I had plenty of time to reload my balls. I was young and, also, just thinking about my mulatto's wet pussy, her dark nipples and her upturned ass I felt how something inside my balls began to bubble. They were working hard to make the cum she wanted to pour onto Samantha's full lips.
The next day, after talking on the phone with my Carmen (she was very busy and waiting for the last touch-ups of the wedding dress), I showered, put on my perfume, got dressed, bought a box of chocolates and went to Samantha's private apartment.
She welcomed me with a spectacular blouse and miniskirt ensemble and a smile that was as splendid as it was provocative. If there were a score for receiving kisses, yours would get a cum laude grade. As he played with mine, his tongue activated a mechanism within me that physically translated into something his hand was quick to gauge: my cock was hard as stone. Samantha, kneeling before me, took it from me and put it in her mouth and licked it greedily.
It is just as I had imagined. Rich as much as possible. Let's go to the shower, love, ”he said.
He took off my clothes little by little and, taking me by the hand, led me to the bathroom. There, and after starting the shower, she took off her clothes in a seen and unseen and was naked before me. I was surprised (and liked) to see his pubis trimmed and not completely shaved. That black rug somehow enhanced the beauty of her body.
We went under the water and, while we felt how the drops traveled our body, we dedicated ourselves to hugging and caressing each other. She slowly massaged my cock while my hands went to the bristling call of her nipples as soon as the vertigo of her buttocks. I wanted to separate them and sink my tongue between them and I did. She moaned a little when I snaked my tongue into her little hole.
I see how this will end, sweetheart, 'he said. You like my ass, right? Well don't worry. I love to be fucked. When they put it in there I feel sooo full. Let's go to bed now. I want to play with you.
The game was a maddening game. I don't know how many times I was about to come. If I didn't, it was because Samantha always knew how to stop on time. Or rather: I knew how to stop in time. I could have come in her mouth when she gave me a superb bareback blowjob. Or I was able to come when she rode me like a slow, calm rider. On those two occasions, when I was already on the edge of the abyss, he grabbed my cock by the glans and pressed under it to prevent me from coming.
I'm looking forward to continuing with what we started in the shower, love, ”he said. And he got on all fours, showing me and offering me his wonderful stern.
I stood behind her, spread her buttocks and licked her anus well. He felt how it shuddered, how it relaxed little by little, how it expanded. Without realizing it, she opened a drawer on her nightstand and took out a bottle of lube. He gave it to me. On the verge of a heart attack, I opened him and put a little lubricant on his ass and a little on my tail. I put the bottle on the bedside table and, opening her buttocks again, I placed the tip of my cock in her narrow hole and slowly I was inserting it. Samantha's moans (feigned or not) turned me on. I was excited by the movement of her ass. It turned me on to feel her buttocks in my hands, gripping them tightly as I moved in and out of her ass. When I felt that well-known shaking in my balls, I pulled my cock out of Samantha's ass and asked her to turn around. He did and, offering me his face, let me come on him.
I have rarely felt more sexually satisfied in my life. Now, more than ten years after getting married and with a lot of experience as a whore behind me, I can affirm without fear of being wrong that this was one of the best fucking of my life. After that many others have come. Some with my Carmen, others with the successive lumis whose services I have been hiring.
Hooking up has become a routine for me. It must have been my friends' fault, who hired Samantha for my bachelor party. In any case, the truth is that looking at some other directory of escorts and hiring one of them to have a date and fuck like crazy has become something inseparable from my life, especially since the children and sex were born marriage was reduced to the minimum expression. With my Carmen I continue to have that soulless sex from time to time and as an obligation that, I imagine, many marriages have. My whores, meanwhile, reserve me passionate and lustful fuck. No taboos. No restrictions. Also, over the years, why are we going to fool ourselves, my Carmen is waning. Even her boobs, which were always so pretty, have passed the time to be admired. And my whores are always splendid and young. And varied, of course.