My Horny Housewife Harem
Part 6 of 16
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Carlos was a shy, fearful virgin when he enrolled in college. Then he met an older woman who made him a man. She also gave him some good advice: instead of looking for romance with clueless girls his age, seek out married women in sexless marriages. His horny housewife harem taught him the ways of erotic love.
All 16 chapters of this tale have been written and will be posted just as quickly as the good folks at Literotica can review them. Here in Part 6, a girl Carlos knew in high school finds her way back into his life - and bed.
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When I went home for the Christmas break during my senior year, my Mama expressed so much pride in me that it almost broke my heart. "Carlos, you have become a man," she said over and over. I looked different physically, of course. All the time pumping iron, plus the help Maria gave me upgrading my hair and wardrobe, added up to a big difference. But the most important thing Mama saw was that my attitude had changed.
When I went off the college, I was a nervous, jittery mess. The years of bullying, and my hand-to-mouth homelife, left me feeling isolated and worried about my future. By the time I was a college senior, those concerns were gone. Instead of fear, I felt excitement. I loved my life, and I felt confident about my future.
It was obvious why I felt so self-assured. I was getting laid by a rotating roster of sexy women looking for satisfaction they couldn't find anywhere else. Maria was a hot-blooded beauty who loved every kind of sex, no matter how kinky. Lucy came to me with a girlish enthusiasm for giving me any kind of sex I wanted. Stephanie used me to satisfy her need to submit to the roughest sex I could manage.
And then there was my co-ed girlfriend Taylor. She shed a few tears after we had sex on the night before we left campus to go home for Christmas. "I'm going to miss you," she said. "I know it's only a few weeks, but I hate the idea of going that long without sleeping beside you."
Taylor had very little experience when we began dating. With Maria's help, I exposed her to types of sex that most women don't experience at such a young age. It was gratifying to see her sexuality grow and evolve, knowing I was the man responsible for her transformation.
It felt strange being away from Taylor and the rest of my harem. Back at college, I had sex with at least one woman almost every day. Going weeks without pussy wasn't the way I wanted to spend the holidays. There didn't seem to be an alternative. Classes resumed during the first week of January, and I expected I'd remain celibate until then.
Mama worked the night shift. She'd gotten a job at one of Amazon's fulfillment centers. It was hard, repetitive work, but it paid more than her last job, so she never complained. She didn't like being up all night, but the people who worked the late shift made more per hour, so she requested that.
This won't last much longer, Mama,
I thought to myself.
After I graduate, things are going to change.
My goal was to get a good job that would allow me to repay her for all the sacrifices she'd made for me. I planned to buy her a house in a nice neighborhood and provide the first real security she'd known since my father died.
Our apartment seemed pretty empty after Mama left for work. I didn't want to sit around and watch some stupid TV show, so I called a friend I used to hang out with when we were in high school. He said that a group of our buddies were going to go to a club to have some beers and scout for girls, so he invited me to join them.
I went to the club, ordered a drink, and began looking for my old friends. That's when I heard a familiar voice.
"Carlos? Is that you?"
Turning around, I saw the face of Rita Demboski, who'd been a student at the same school as me. She was one of the hottest girls there, a varsity cheerleader with long hair that was so blond it was almost white. Rita had big blue eyes and a fabulous body that I'd always lusted after.
But she was one of the privileged kids who didn't hang around with Hispanic guys like me. She dated a big dumb jock who was a star on the basketball team. In school, Rita carried herself in a way that made it clear she thought she was better than most of the other students.
Rita had gained a few pounds, but she was still smoking hot. Her boobs looked bigger, and her skinny little butt had become nice and round. Her legs, which had always been fabulous, looked even more curvaceous in the short skirt she wore to the club.
"Hello, Rita. It's good to see you," I said. That was a lie, but it seemed like a polite thing to say. It wasn't good to see one of the girls who'd made me feel inferior, but I didn't feel like being rude.
"I barely recognized you, Carlos," Rita said. "Have you been working out?"
In the four years since leaving high school, I'd packed on 30 pounds of muscle from my time in the gym. It didn't take a lot of brains to conclude that I'd been working out, but I'd never thought that Rita was particularly well endowed in the brains department. "The college I attend has a great student fitness center," I told her. "I go there a couple of times a week."
"Wow. You look great, Carlos. Really great," Rita said. It was the first time Rita had said anything remotely complimentary to me, and it felt strange.
"Thanks, Rita. You look nice, too," I said.
Rita told me she was at the club because she expected to meet up with some girlfriends from her job at a department store. She said she worked behind the makeup counter, which seemed like the kind of job a girl like Rita would have. She'd never been interested in academics, but she liked clothes, makeup, and girly stuff like that.
We began talking, and I began thinking Rita hadn't changed much since high school. But I'd changed a lot. She asked me about my studies and my plans to work as a software engineer after graduation. "Do you know where you're going to live?" she asked.
"I'll come back home," I said. "There are lots of jobs that will allow me to telecommute," I said, explaining that I wanted to spend some time giving my Mama a more comfortable life.
The conversation was light and casual until I asked about her high school boyfriend, a total jerk named Phillip Bennett. He'd been a star on the basketball team, and he was one of the most popular jocks at school. Bennett never missed an opportunity to bully me, and I'd always thought Rita was an idiot for dating such a dick.
"Phillip's in prison," Rita said. "I go visit him. I told him I'd wait for his release, but I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Wow. I'm sorry to hear that, Rita," I said, lying again. I wasn't the slightest bit sorry that Bennett was locked up. That guy belonged in a cage. "What happened?" I asked.
Rita had a hard time telling the story, which obviously upset her. She explained that Phillip began selling drugs before graduating from high school. She didn't say it, but I got the feeling the guy was too lazy to get a real job. He turned out to be an inept criminal who was too stupid to avoid getting caught by the police. When he was arrested, his car was full of every kind of dope you could imagine.
Ordinarily, first-time drug offenders get light sentences, but Bennett sold some tainted meth that sent a few of his customers to the hospital. The court sentenced him to 10 years. He'd get out in seven years with good behavior, so that meant Rita had committed to waiting longer than she'd first expected.
"I began regretting that promise almost immediately," she told me. "The first time I went to visit him in prison, he had some ugly tattoos on his face. I got upset. I told him that it would be hard for a convicted felon to get a job, and that it wouldn't help if he had a bunch of prison tattoos."
"What did he say to that?" I asked.
"He laughed at me," Rita replied.
"Every time I go see him, he's got a few more tattoos. I wouldn't mind so much if they were under his clothes, but they're all over his arms, his hands, his neck, and his face. He looks scary. Would you like to see a picture?" He showed me a photo that confirmed everything she said. A lot of his tattoos seemed to be words, but they were illegible.
"At least there are no swastikas," I said.
"He's got a swastika on the back of one hand. You can't miss it. He's part of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang. Carlos, I'm afraid of what will happen when he gets out of prison. He seems to be doing everything he can to make it impossible to get a job. I've asked him how he expects to support himself, and he just acts like that's a stupid question."
"Maybe he's planning to sell drugs again," I said. "Or maybe he expects you to support him while he sits around playing video games.
"Rita, why are you still with this loser? I can tell from the way you talk that you realize it's a bad idea. What's keeping you from telling him you aren't going to wait any longer?"
"I promised him, Carlos. When he got arrested, he claimed that he'd be out soon. It was a shock when he got such a long sentence. Back then I wasn't thinking about how hard it would be for a convicted felon to find work, especially when he's covered with gang tattoos. Now I feel stuck. I don't know what to do."
"I'm sorry that happened to you, Rita," I said. "But it sounds like you know exactly what you should do. It sounds like you don't want to hurt his feelings. But he obviously doesn't care about you. Does this mean you aren't dating anyone? At all? For all these years?"
"I've never dated anyone but Phillip," she said.
Wow. It was hard to imagine that a smoking hot babe like Rita was saving herself for a loser like Phillip. "I am sorry to hear that, Rita," I said. "You should be enjoying your life. You should be spending time with a decent guy who'll treat you the way you deserve. You'll never get these years back, Rita. I hate to see you waste them."
I hadn't intended to make her cry, but that's what happened. I took Rita in my arms and held her as she sobbed quietly.
