Ninth Installment in the "Latina" Series of Erotic Tales
When the invitation to a baby shower arrived from her former co-worker, Mi, it brought back a flood of memories from five years earlier. Back then, Latina worked night shift on the manufacturing floor of an electronics company. Almost the entire night crew consisted of women, mostly ethnic (she was Mexican, and her friend Mi was from Taiwan), mostly single or divorced, many with children to raise, and the repetitive manufacturing tasks their only means of support. Latina and "the girls" would sit around talking about their dreams and hopes for the future. She and Mi would discuss moving off the manufacturing floor to find better jobs, and finding a husband. Most of the other girls did not believe that either Mi or Latina would ever accomplish those dreams. You couldn't shop for a job or a husband like you could for clothes--or could you?
Latina's first husband had passed away a year earlier, after 17 years of marriage, leaving her a single mother raising a 5-year-old son. She had been an emotional wreck ever since, but now she was pulling herself together. She had gotten this night-shift job, and she ran her own small business in the daytime. Relatives watched her son most of the time, but she DID take him on weekend outings. She had also joined a local dating service, and was meeting a few men, although most of them failed her "must rules" about being monogamous, non- smokers, and non-drinkers.
Now here it was, 5 years later. Latina had shopped for, and landed, a daytime office job, with much less stress, and much better pay, than the night shift in manufacturing. She had given-up her small business, which had not succeeded. And by "shopping" through the dating service, she was happily married again, for almost two years, to Frank, who was as much fun out of bed, as he was in it.
Mi had also done very well for herself. She had moved-up to an administrative job, she had married her childhood sweetheart a year ago, and now Mi had her first baby. And so the invite received that morning, to Mi's baby shower.
Because Latina and Frank worked just three blocks apart, they car-pooled to work every day. She had the car that day, and she decided to "highjack" her husband for the evening, to shop at the local mall for presents for Mi's baby shower. She found a very nice gift set, more for the parents than for the newborn, consisting of a silver-covered photo album for baby pictures, and a silver tube for safely keeping the baby's birth certificate. That shopping out of the way, she whisked Frank off to a quiet, romantic dinner, followed by some window shopping.
He remembered their favorite store in the mall, a novelty shop specializing in adult toys and games. Commenting that they had some extra money that week, he asked if they could go there, knowing that she would like this idea as much as he did.
The selection of vibrators in this store brought back a flood of memories to Latina. For a year after her first husband had died, she had been miserably depressed, and she had often broke out crying. When she first met Mi, she had finally pulled herself together, and had started dating again, but she seemed to have a knack for dating real losers, who smoked like chimneys, drank like fish, cheated on her, or all of the above. She couldn't picture herself getting intimate with any of them. That's when she'd bought her trusty vibrator. Seeing the selection before her, she recalled how she would soothe away the stress of her night-shift job with a hot soak in her tub, then towel herself dry, and then let her textured, contoured toy softly buzz and shake up her insides, building her excitement, but at the same time soothing her, and lulling her into a much- needed deep sleep.
Now she recalled that she had thrown away her vibrator after the first time she had slept with her second, and current, husband. Thoughts of their first sexual encounter flooded back, and as she thought about it, she couldn't help peeking over her shoulder and secretly smiling at Frank, who was just then too absorbed in browsing through the adult toys, to notice her lascivious smile.
That first time had started out innocently enough, talking and then kissing, as seductive jazz music played softly on his stereo. But she had been fantasizing, all the previous week, about what his tongue would feel like, french-kissing her pussy instead of her mouth. And that night, she had made the first move toward fulfilling that fantasy, by slowly, seductively, unbuttoning her blouse, as they kissed on his couch.
He had helped her fantasy along, by trailing kisses down each newly-exposed area of her skin, as she unbuttoned. When her blouse was open all the way, he had slid her bra straps down off her shoulders, tucked the bra cups under her breasts, and began kissing, licking, and nibbling everywhere. Not just the obvious places, like her nipples. She recalled how she had melted into his arms when he first kissed UNDER her breasts. Not many men seem to think of kissing a woman there, but certainly in her case, his attention to that spot had made her even friskier. She suspected that if more men paid attention to these less-obvious erogenous zones, the way Frank had done that first time, fewer men would be complaining about their inability to "score" with women. His kisses there had made her involuntarily let out a long, low moan, which in turn had made him even bolder in his passions that first night.
She recalled that his arousing moves on her, had made her hungry for every part of him, too. As he continued his kisses on and around her breasts, she had slowly unbuttoned and removed his shirt, revealing a smooth-skinned but hairy chest. It was a well-developed, but not overly muscular, chest. Her hands had slowly and gently rubbed his chest, and had stroked his wonderfully-soft chest hair. As she did this, he had started to unfasten her skirt. But before he could remove her skirt, she had grabbed his hand, and they had both stood up and led each other to his bed.
