Carlos My Wifes Latino Student

(All characters are over 18)

While my wife was in the shower, I begged her Latino student to stop blackmailing me.

He sent me a pick of his brown dick. (You're gonna suck it again, papi) He sent me.

"Honey!" I said to my wife. "I just received some new instructions from my job, gotta work some more. I'm sorry! I'll be in my office."

"Oh, okay. I'll make you some coffee, then," she said. Then, the shower started again.

I darted out of the bedroom, locked myself in the office and stared at the dick pick.

(STOP SENDING ME THIS) I texted.

(Only if you don't have a hard on right now.)

I grabbed myself, squeezing my erection.

(I'm not hard I'm pissed. You're gonna screw over my entire life, do you understand, you little thug?)

(You're lying)

(I'm blocking you)

(I dare you)

I felt my whole body shiver.

(Please?)

(Now that's more like it...let's meet one more time...and maybe I'll let you go)

I paced around my office, worried sick, but also a little thrilled. He was blackmailing me. I had no choice.

(Fine)

Linna knocked at the door, scaring me. I opened it quickly so she wouldn't worry.

"Thank you." I grabbed the coffee.

"Everything okay, Peter?"

I nodded. "I'm almost done."

I set the coffee on the table, reclined on my chair and sighed deeply. I remembered like it was Yesterday, the recurrent visits of Carlos to my house because Linna was teaching him math. I had been jealous, and wanted to always be at home while she taught. She said he was a great young man.

He was great. Big and tall and extroverted. Everything in him expanded with time. He got comfortable in our house, and too comfortable with me. Somehow he knew it before I did.

"Come on, cocksucker," he had said when he finally made me a cocksucker. "Suck it dry." The whole facade of good boy was gone. He was dark and dangerous, his Hispanic accent turning things a bit more alien to me. With my mouth full, I couldn't protest being called that. In my own office. In this very chair. He had rested his round buttocks on the table where now was the coffee that my loving wife had prepared for me. And I was reduced to a cocksucker. I had been so content.

He mocked me later, saying that I had the unmistakable mannerisms of a cocksucker. I knew he was just being cruel, but since then, I have tried my best to notice any kind of deviation towards the feminine.

Then the blackmailing began.

When I left my home-office, we had talked a place and a time to meet again. I was wrecked, defeated, tired.

In a way, I was also comforted by how unhappy I was. It meant I didn't want to do it as much...maybe I had truly changed?

Two days later, I was in a strange parking lot, facing a wall. I was wearing suit and tie, should've been on my workplace, but managed to lie to my wife and co-workers.

Carlos was on his way.

The young man opened the door and hopped in, dashing confident smile, piercing on the lower lip, buzzcut; he wore sleeveless shirt, and shorts that easily displayed the big package.

I grabbed his neck and squeezed.

"Listen to me, you little shit. This is it. Just tell me what to do, I'll do it, and we're done. Or I swear to god, I'll kill you."

His smile disappeared. But it came back a moment later when my grip loosened.

"Don't act like you don't want it."

"I don't. You're blackmailing me. You're gonna ruin my life."

"Sure, cocksucker. Here it is," he said, pulling down his shorts right there. I gasped.

"You mean, here? Anyone can see us."

"This is perfect. Nobody will see. Don't be such a pussy."

His cock was brown, though he wasn't black. He had a dark-sand skin. Looking at it made everything seem more real. I was afraid.

"Just this once..."

"Until I cum," he said.

"How long is that? I have to go to work."

"You better start."

The smell hit me first, then the head was in my mouth, bringing the creamy taste.

"Damn, papi. Such a good cocksucker. You have a gift. But don't you think it's enough?"

His question confused me.

"Enough?" I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse. I realized that my face was wet, my mouth filled with his cum still. What the hell?

"You made me cum twice already. I thought you said you had to go to work."

"Hmm, how long have I been...?"

"More than a whole hour, papi. I tried stopping you, but you wouldn't hear it."

My eyes went wild.

"But I thought...how...more than an hour? How's that even possible?"

I was so stunned that I didn't shy away from his hand when he cleaned some of my face.

My mouth was tingling. His semi-hard cock looked so tasty.

I checked the clock. He was right.

But it had been so fast. It felt like I didn't get the chance of...being satisfied.

"I'm going now, papi. Wait for my next call."

"Wait...you said...you agreed."

"You think I'm afraid of you, cocksucker? Pull that shit again, cocksucker, and I'll beat your ass. Now be waiting for my next call. Or I will ruin your marriage, cocksucker."

I stared with my mouth ajar. Eventually I got out of my stupor and drove away, and the word 'cocksucker' remained as an echo ghosting my ears.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cursed, pulling over my parking spot. What was I gonna do? I couldn't let him ruin my marriage. I didn't want to show up in the office with my mind going crazy like that. I began hitting my head, telling myself to stop.

Someone tapped on the window, making me jump. It was Mark, one of my co-workers. Blond guy, my age, with a thick beard which was silvering slightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked when I opened the window. I forced a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You were hitting yourself..."

"Was I? Well, it was nothing. Just stressing over marriage."

"Oh...I get it. Here, take this." He handled me one coffee which he was holding. I took it thankfully.

We walked in together, and the actual stress of the job took me out of the nervous breakdown.

I dreaded my phone, expecting a call, or maybe a message calling me a cocksucker. But received none that day, nor the following days. By the second week of no calls, I was pretty sure I was free. Maybe the thug had been hit by a guilty consciousness. Either way, I was happy.

And my wife. Linna was my blessing. After being so close to losing her because of my own stupidity, I appreciated her even more. She never stopped taking care of me even after she got the job at the highschool.

"Just eggs and pancakes today," she told me during breakfast of a friday morning. "I gotta go get ready, so you have to eat without me."

"Thank you," I said, kissing her. School was leaving her busy, but she loved it.

I sat down and ate my breakfast. I was drinking orange juice when my phone ringed and I saw the number. The juice stuck on my throat. It took a few seconds for my cough to settle down.

"Everything okay?" Wife shouted.

"Oh yes, don't worry."

Sweat was dripping down my face. I fixed my tie around my neck, eyes fixed on the damn phone. My wife was almost ready, and in a surge of electric decision, I blocked the number, deleted the calls and the messages went to the trash unread.

There. I would pretend he didn't exist. If he tried something, I would keep ignoring.

Linna got back, and saw that I had barely eaten anything. We ended up eating together after all.

"Oh my God, Carlos! It's so good to see you!" My wife's voice reached me all the way to my house office. The moment she said that name, my whole body tensed up. I became a statue, quieted my body to the core, trying to listen more, trying to convince myself I had heard it wrong.

Things had been going so well, but still, ever since I ignored those calls and blocked that number, I couldn't really be at peace. It seemed like it had worked for a few days, but now here was something to send me back to hell.

Unable to hear anything else, I slowly got up and went to the door. Opening slightly, I was able to hear his voice. I darted straight to the living room, ready to fight him if he was telling anything to my wife.

"Peter, look! What a nice surprise."

"Hey, Mr. Taylor!" Carlos said, both voice and accent sending jolts of fear through my body.

"H-hey, buddy..."

"So, of course I can help you, Carlos," Linna said. "Come in every Wednesday, it's my free day." She turned to me. "He wants a little help with his studies. Seems like he will be trying again, which is a great thing, Carlos. I'm really, really proud of you."

"Gracias, Ms. Taylor. I'm going now. Sorry to bother."

"No bother at all."

"Yeah," I said, much less enthusiastically.

I was fucked.

That night, in my office, I unblocked the son of a bitch. When he answered my call, I could tell he was very content with himself.

"Cocksucker?"

That word hit hard. I avoided thinking about it, but just then everything I had done came back to me. Even the taste was still encrusted in my savory senses.

"Fuck you," I said.

"Ready for some cocksucking?" he asked. "You really thought I would let you go?"

I closed my eyes, engulfed in despair.

"One more time?" I said.

"Yeah, sure," he said with a very untrustworthy tone.

"You're lying, you filthy thug."

"Don't give me that. That's racist, papi."

"That's what you are," I said. Even though I was whispering, my voice was definitely conveying the intensity of my hate.

"Well, this thug's cock needs some cocksucking."

Shit.

"At least, don't show up Wednesday, and leave Linna out of it," I said.

"If you do it well like those last times, I might think about it. But I think you will, no brainer for you. You're a great cocksucker."

"Stop saying that."

"Cocksucker," he whispered. A whine came out of my mouth, but I had no strength to complain anymore.

"I'm gonna hang up."

"Then you won't be hearing my voice calling you a cocksucker anymore. Sure you want that, cocksucker?"

"I don't like it," I said. I grabbed my erect penis, wondering if he could actually read my mind.

"So tomorrow, same place, same time. Be ready to do a lot of cocksucking." And before he could give me the satisfaction, he was the one who hang up on me.

I showed up. Of course, I showed up.

He hopped inside my car like he owned it.

"Hello, papi," he said. He flashed his white teeth, black eyes full of mischievousness. The fresh male perfume took over the car. "No threats today?"

I shook my head. I hadn't the strength to fight. I hoped he would grow tired of an olf fuck like me, since he was young and probably had loads of options.

"Then begin, cocksucker."

I slurped on his cock and ate his cum almost every day of that week. The dread I felt at the beginning disappeared as the cocksucking became the routine, and his cum filled my belly like the loving breakfast my wife prepared every day. I actually was very thankful that he didn't meet Linna and I was in my best behavior.

"I want to spend more time with you," he said. He was pulling his shorts back on after a long session of cocksucking. I licked my burning lips as I looked at him.

"What you mean?"

"Whenever you have some free time, tell me. Then just find a place for us. Rent something. I don't care. I'm sick of doing it here."

"You want me to find a place?"

"Yeah, cocksucker. Is that a problem?"

"No," I shook my head obediently. "I'll do it."

"Good." He touched my face. It almost seemed like he cared about me, even though he was ruining my life. I hated him. "Such a papi."

I hated him. I had to remind myself.

"Look at me, papi. You're a great cocksucker."

He gave me a soft slap, then left the car.

All at once, I let out a long deep breath and felt my face burn with shame. That happened whenever he complimented me in that sweet way, and it was hard to control. I'd be dead before I let him see me like that.

Knock, knock. I jumped in my seat...I looked around, expecting to see Carlos. It was Mark, my co-worker. What the fuck?

"Mark?" I said as I lowered the window. Shit, had he seen anything? "What are you doing here?"

"Well, buddy. If that hung Latino who just got out of your car is any indication, I think we've been doing the same thing, though I prefer African-American." He smiled at me. I was too stunned to say anything. "Oh, this place...this is pretty much a very well-known meeting point for guys like us. You should definitely be more careful."

"Uh, thanks," I said.

"All right. See you at work."

Over the next few days, in order to keep my sanity, I pretended Mark didn't exist. But I sure did look for a cheap hotel because I didn't have the guts to go to the parking lot again. I found a place far away enough, hopefully, that Mark wasn't going to be there. It was cheap, but not too bad. Carlos was satisfied with it, jumping on the bed.

"Finally, papi," he said, unzipping his pants. I crawled on the bed until I reached the treasure. I placed a kiss on the hard bulge of his underwear.

"Thank you for being patient. These days must have been hard for you."

"Yeah, not getting my cock sucked is my weakness, papi."

I smiled. I guessed four walls made the whole thing a little more comforting.

"Just be careful not to let me lose too much time," I said. "I can get a bit lost doing this."

He smiled and I blushed, retreating eye contact, to focus on his virility. I could hold it with both my hands, thick, dark brown, thick veins, and that rolling meat of an uncut god. I let some spit fall on top of it, then I began, and didn't stop until he came for the first time.

"Keep going, keep going, cocksucker. It didn't take long, you're good."

So I made him cum again.

I couldn't stand Mark's stupid grin every time he saw me at work. I was thinking about having a conversation, maybe it was too late to deny things, but since he was guilty of the same sin, he could at least leave me the fuck alone.

"Hey, Mark...you wanna take a cup of coffee during our break...outside?" I asked at his office.

"Sure, Peter."

And so we sat down at a random Cafe close to our building which somehow I've never noticed before.

"They have the best coffee by far." Mark told me.

"Is that right?" I said. But when I tasted it, I actually agreed with him. "It seems like I'm learning a gret deal recently." That was my opening to the actual conversation I wanted to have.

"About that. I want to apologize, actually, Peter. When I saw you in that parking lot...I...couldn't help myself. I risked a lot by coming out to you in that way, but it was good to know I wasn't alone."

We stared at each other for a moment, and I couldn't find any trace of bad-intent coming from him. I sighed. My plan was to come here and be direct about not ever talking to each other about those secrets. I couldn't find the words now.

"Yeah, I feel the same way."

"That boy of yours...he looks good."

Shit. Was I really gonna talk about Carlos to another person? Another man? Fuck, another fag like me? Because let's face it.

"He's the devil," I said. "He was suppose to be my wife's nice little student. Then he just comes and wrecks my world."

"Oh that sounds hot," he said. "I'm just fucking my gardener. He's not cute, I'll tell you that."

"But you like him?"

"He's got a big one."

"Oh."

Mark looked around to make sure nobody was listening. I thought it was a bit too late for that. Thankfully I was alert way before him.

"First time we fucked, I actually cried...in the best way possible."

"Jesus, Mark. You mean you actually got butt fucked?"

"You haven't?"

"No! Nor will I."

Mark smiled knowingly. "You don't know what you're missing."

"A lot of pain, apparently. You just told me you cried."

He sipped his coffee.

"In the best way possible."

He left it at that.

Still, I had to smile. The way we were talking, so openly about things so taboo...it felt liberating. We had to do it again the next day, so we could tell each other about the things we did. It was basically a competition of who could make the other hornier, and it was a balanced fight, since my guy was cute but cruel, and his guy had a monster cock.

But I almost choked on my coffee when Mark told me what he had done before work one day.

"He just loaded my ass. I still have it in me. And I can't clean myself cause he told me not to."

"No way."

He looked around again in that suspicious way.

"Come to the bathroom and I'll show you."

I shook my head, but he was already standing up. He went to the bathroom and took so long that I felt pressured to follow.

"Jesus, I thought you weren't coming."

"I shouldn't have," I whispered.

"It'll be quick." He chose a compartment and locked ourselves in. He lowered his pants and briefs, which was clearly dirty with cum. "Thank God these pants are thick," he said, smiling proudly. "Look at this," he said, showing me his hairy ass. He was blond there too. His tiny pink hole looked loose and tired, and he was able to puff out some cum, which proved his story.

"Jesus Christ," I said, the only thing I could say at that moment.

Mark definitely won our competition that day.

I thought about telling the story to Carlos, but was afraid too. I chickened out. I also didn't know if I could risk my wife somehow noticing something...though she wouldn't very well look into my asshole.

No, I didn't tell him, though part of me wanted to know.

I was glad that I didn't. Because he showed natural interest with time. He used his cock to distract me with cocksucking while his hands roamed free around my body, eventually finding a place in between my butt cheeks and not leaving.

I realized that a part of me was afraid that he wouldn't want it, that my ass was too old and not as pretty as Mark's. But Carlos was really into me. How could I say no to that beautiful cock?

He took me from behind, hugging me by my neck, his hips dancing for what seemed to be hours.

"Take it, papi..." He kept saying those words over and over.