"You beast ..." Dorothy sighed, as Carlos' hands slid underneath her black silk nightgown to grasp her firm ass. She wore her favorite thong, or rather, Carlos' favorite; it was skimpy and lacy and tight and decorated with tiny red hearts. Here he ran his fingertips over it, blindly admiring it with his face buried in the back of Dorothy's thick blonde hair, his nostrils inflamed with her extravagantly expensive perfume. Leaving her pert ass his hands roamed up her curvaceous hips, swirling around her slim waist and up her flat tummy, his hands resting upon her full breasts, her engorged nipples poking over the rim of her half-cup black and red-heart bra. Dorothy felt his great prick swelling against her ass; she slowly eased her buttocks against it, teasing him.
"Think of the neighbors," Dorothy breathed, embarrassed yet horny, peering out the kitchen window from where Carlos had leapt upon her. She rested her hands on the kitchen counter, not giving a fuck whether the neighbors saw or not. This wasn't strictly true; Dorothy knew that her nearest neighbor would have to use a pair of binoculars to see into her kitchen across the spacious, immaculately kept lawn and glimmering pool of their million-and-a-half home (yeah, my husband's rich -- what of it, bitch?) However, it thrilled her more to think that someone was spying on them and that he was pulling on his cock watching her.
It was mid-morning, her husband was in work and after coffee she decided to let Carlos fuck her. He was the local landscaper, and he had a big cock which she first sampled some two-months ago. She had been bored, sick to death (or at least that morning) of shopping, and wanted something exciting to do. Her roaming eyes catching the young Mexican landscaper, his tanned, muscular body glistening in the bright sunlight, she offered him one of her husband's beers dressed in a blood-red corset and black stockings. Her high heels clicking seductively on the deck, that memorable morning she wore no panties, her trimmed, all-but-gone golden pubes breathing the clean Pacific air, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his fucking sockets when he saw her approach him. Needless to say, he was putty in her hands, well, not for long; once Dorothy led him inside and unzipped his cock he was as fucking hard as his garden tools, and just as big.
And so it was that whenever their garden needed attention, so did Dorothy. Sometimes she would just suck his cock, he coming buckets onto her face, she relishing his hot, salty Mexican cum. Other times she'd let him fuck her asshole, Dorothy fingering her clit, or using one of her many toys as Carlos' balls bashed tumultuously against her buttocks. Sometimes her husband's cum still swam in her cunt from a pre-work fuck as Carlos entered her, his cock splashing around where her husband's was an hour or two previously -- it made her feel like a whore, and she loved it.
This particular morning, bent over the kitchen counter, her nightgown now resting on the floor, Carlos entered her from behind, his magnificent cock sliding into her wet slit, her thong tugged to one side of her buttocks. She felt his balls rest next to her ass, felt his hands palm her breasts, his fingers and thumb tweaking and pinching and playing with her swollen pink nipples. Within seconds his cock was sliding in and out of her, stretching her, filling her, his throbbing prick pulsating wondrously inside her dripping cunt.
"Fuck me!" she groaned, squirming as his lips ran over her throat, his mouth biting her shoulders, his hands massaging her heavy breasts as he thrust into her with long, hard powerful strokes. Fuck, but he had a big cock!
"You tight slut," he murmured into her ear, his accent foreign, but it made her wet to think of it when her husband fucked her and spoke dirty to her in the darkness of their bedroom.
"Make me come or you won't get paid today," she gasped, and she meant it, too. If he got to fuck her well, that was payment enough, wasn't it? Everyone knew that Mexicans worked for peanuts -- this one worked for pussy. And what a sweet, delicious tight pussy it was too -- he should count himself lucky.
"My girlfriend no like me coming here," Carlos said playfully, mid-thrust. "She wonders why I work so hard and get no pay."
"Oh -- oh -- "Dorothy moaned, before adding, "then bring the slut here and let her eat my cunt!"
"I don't think she like that," Carlos added, suddenly slapping her ass. Dorothy let out a squeal. Pity, she thought, biting her bottom lip. With Carlos' cock in her ass and his girlfriend's tongue dancing on her clit ...
The kitchen phone suddenly rang, rattling her from her thoughts. Now who the fuck was that? Wouldn't be Ursula; Dorothy told her not to call when the landscaper was around. Was it a telemarketer? Dorothy hated those intrusive fuckers. Perhaps it was her sister? She'd call her back later and --
"Hullo?"
To her amusement Carlos had answered the phone, he slowing down his pace to reach over to the mounted phone and retrieving it. Let him talk to whoever it was. She hoped it was Ursula; she couldn't wait to tell her later what she and Carlos was doing while --
"Oh course, senior, I'll get her for you now."
Shit, her husband! She peered back at the grinning landscaper, her face reddened, her pulse racing, as if her husband had walked in on her and Carlos. What the fuck was he doing calling her mid-morning? He never did. And what the fuck was Carlos doing handing her the phone? She mouthed a 'No' to him, shaking her head and then waving one of her hands. Was he fucking stupid?
Carlos put the phone back to the side of his face and spoke to her husband once more. "She's coming now, senior." He then took hold of the phone and held it out to her, winking cheekily as he did so.
"Bastard," Dorothy murmured, before snatching the phone from him, she then throwing back her golden curls before speaking into the mouth-piece.
"Hi darling!" she said, brightly, and then she realized that Carlos' cock was twice as fucking hard, and that he had started fucking her once more. Slowly at first, nothing too vigorous; it was obvious that her Mexican stud got off on the fact that they had nearly been caught.
"I was in the garden, inspecting his work," she said into the phone. "Yes, I know," she continued, turning her head back to leer sarcastically at Carlos, "you know what those Mexicans are like!"
For his part Carlos once more slapped her ass, not too loudly. He then reached for her thick blonde locks and pulled her head back, he smothering her throat with feverish kisses. To her credit, Dorothy never skipped a beat.
