Business is good, Sgt. Pole thought to himself as he woke up. And then he realized he was naked, alone, and in bed back at the penthouse. This was a problem, because he had clearly gone to bed with the Colombian woman the night before and she wasn't lying next to him right now.
Coffee had led to dinner, and dinner had led to drinks. Briefly, they discussed the cat fight on the stage. But that was just an ice breaker. They talked about her family. They talked about his good time in the Marines. School, music, places to go and things to see In Country. Somehow it came out that they were both single, hadn't found the right person, and were not in a hurry looking. It was obvious they were desperately horny, but no one would admit it. The conversation was easy. Chiche was actually very funny. She had quick comebacks that caught Sgt. Pole off guard. When she talked fast, he couldn't keep up with her Spanish accent, but it really didn't matter. He melted in her words, stared at her lips, and snuck glances at her figure when she went to the restroom. Half the time he didn't know what she was saying. Half the time he didn't care. He just wanted more of her.
Her cheek swelled up slightly, but it had no real effect on the evening. His cock swelled when she touched his forearm during dinner, and he had one goal that night.
She seemed interested. She fanned her eyelids, and thrust out her tits when he gave her the eye. He put his arm around her as they moved out of the restaurant, and she seemed to bend her body around his. Later, she leaned across the bar they were at and Sgt. Pole swore it was so she could tease him with her ass. She complimented his uniform, his taste, the confidence with which he carried himself.
Thank God for the Marines, he thought. Thank God for Crazy Uncle Joe. And thank God for the infinity pool. "You have to see the condo," he extolled to her. "There's this pool, nine stories up." She was game.
It took five minutes of skinny dipping and two minutes of groping in the water. The city burned brightly around them in the darkness. They made it to bed and set up camp. It was like two mongooses fighting in a sack. Exciting and dangerous and blistering. She came easily and coaxed him to completion. Then utter, restful bliss.
Sgt. Pole heard the toilet in the guest bathroom flush down the hall. In a minute Chiche was standing in the doorway. She was wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned, and nothing else. "Did you sleep well?" she asked padding into the bedroom.
"I did," he said smiling. His eyes devoured her, from her toes to her shoulder length dark hair. "You?"
"I woke up hungry," she said coming to the side of the bed. She was standing directly in front of him as he lay on his side. He had one arm crooked beneath a pillow. He looked up at her.
"I can make a mean omelet," he said trying to appease her.
"In a minute," she smiled down at him. She ran a slim hand through his hair, brushing at his bangs. She stroked his tattooed bicep and shoulder. " Tenia hambre...I'm hungry for something else."
He ran a hand along her bare hip, at the edge of the dress shirt. She shivered, and he liked the effect he had over her. She didn't move from the side of the bed, so he traced a finger along her hip bone, to the cleft below her left butt cheek. It was amazingly taunt, yet smooth and round. The finger galloped back along her pelvic bone, along her inner thigh, and back up her leg to her sex. She was bare except for a thin strip of bacon that made a nice landing strip to her clit. Her lips were closed, but when he pried them open they turned moist and warm.
"Tell me," he said.
She leaned over and kissed him. Chiche was a good kisser. Her tongue alternately darted into his mouth and danced along his lips. When he kissed her she purred. He tried to pull her onto his chest. Her legs straddled him and he felt moisture on his abs. He pulled her down to him and they kissed some more. He pecked kisses on her chin, and down to her chest. Her breasts were just the right combination of a perfect handful. She had dark pointed nipples.
She sucked in a sharp breath when he settled on the right one and began sucking like a newborn baby. She rubbed herself along his stomach, smearing herself all over him.
He went to her ears, her neck, and then they swapped. He felt her licking his jaw line, stroking his neck. She tongued his ear, and he groaned. It drove him wild. He was hard as rock. She said something in breathy Spanish that he guessed was her breakfast order. He figured he was the menu.
When he couldn't take it any more. He grabbed her roughly by the hips and pulled her waist towards his head. She resisted but couldn't fight his grip, and after all, what was the point? His hands fit perfectly on her hip bones. She wiggled and positioned herself above him, as he brought her pussy to his face. He was careful not touch her sex. He wanted to drive her crazy so he tongued one thigh and then the other. She moaned loudly, and so he stopped, just long enough to get his bearings.
He saw the spot he wanted while he was trying to avoid actually touching her lips. His cheek became wet when he used the tip of his tongue to ever so lightly lick the junction where her thigh met her public area. This was the good spot.
"Fuck, baybee," she said above him. He'd been her baby since the pool last night, and he kind of liked it. She arched against the headboard of the king bed, splayed open on his face.
He gave her his tongue and she opened up and settled onto him.
They both moaned. Her because he had pierced her pussy hole and she was now stuck on his tongue. Him because she was slightly sweet, slightly salty, and warm and inviting. He probed her for only a second and started then working her folds. Up one lip and then down the other, pressing against her slick track, all around her and over her, but never staying anywhere too long. Chiche had an amazing pussy and he ate her like a piece of fruit.
A hand came down and gripped his hair. He put his hands on her ass and showed her how to move against him. When she figured out she could control the where and the when, he just kept his head still and offered his tongue. He couldn't see anything but her caramel thighs and the pink. His hands fanned out across her backside, along her crack, up her spine and across her flanks until he lightly settled on her nipples beneath the open dress shirt. He was like a blind man, learning her sex manual by brail.
She fed him her pussy. She stroked herself along his face. She started shaking when he settled his tongue flat against her clit. She bucked her little bead on his tongue.
"Fuck," he breathed onto her. His warm breath made her shudder and she increased her pace. He teased her and backed off, tormented her and pushed on. She settled onto him, trying to recapture his tongue. He avoided her, as she rained down on him.
