Camila stared back at the woman looking at her in the mirror. Round ebony eyes, high cheekbones, a prominent jaw-line that adds an aristocratic touch to an otherwise very feminine and soft Hispanic face. The woman's black wavy hair cascades over shoulders and falls down to cover the mounds of her endowed breasts. She slowly brushes her hair and glances at the small clock propped at the dresser top. "What could be taking him so long?" her mind flies, a faint smile on her full lips. She thinks of Enrique. Enrique, the only man she will ever love with complete abandon. Enrique who gives her everything any woman needs, all her desires; who pleasures her to great heights, not any man she ever had, have brought her to. To have Enrique with her for a lifetime is her only happiness. Camila looks at the woman in the mirror. She sees an undeniable veil of sadness clouding her black eyes. Ironically, the depth of sentiment is overshadowed by the tingling in her body. She needs him tonight and the longer the minutes pass, the more she aches for him.
Enrique paces on the wide balcony of his bedroom. He drags a cigarette and nervously peeks at the woman in bed. His impatience building up every minute, the stirring in his groins were getting furious. It happens every time he will go to Camila; the thought of her soft body wakens his manhood instinctively. He observes the woman's breathing intently, the regular pace of the wheezing sound meant she was fast asleep. He stubs his cigarette and walks soundlessly into the bedroom. He gives one more glance at the woman, then carefully walked out of the door.
Camila was lying in bed over the covers. She is completely naked. She imagines how Enrique feels inside her. She lets out a small gasp, closes her eyes and starts pleasuring herself. The door opens without a sound. Camila unknowingly continued moaning softly at her self-indulgence, she didn't notice the man standing by the door.
Enrique watches Camila with a wide grin on his face and a full erection. He quickly undresses, careful not to make a sound, and crept towards the bed noiselessly. He jumped her, covering her mouth with kisses to stifle her from screaming. She kissed him back, passionately, her body heat increasing and wraps her legs around his naked body. She grabs at his tool right away as he touches her wetness, he cooed, "You are a very naughty girl, Camila, were you thinking of me?"
She tugged at his hard dick, stroked it and said, "No. I was thinking of him." They giggled and went back kissing torridly, hungrily, their hands busy groping and fondling each other. Enrique worked his kisses down from Camila's lips, jaw, chin, neck. He cupped both her breasts, squeezed them together and buried his face between them. He alternately sucked on her nipples, making sloshing sounds like he is lapping a lemon rind, she hushed him, "Sssshh, you are making too much noise."
He snickered, "Am I?" and went down to spread her legs, licked her and pushed two fingers inside her. Her feet flexed and her muscles tensed. She clenches her fist and bites it. She tried to stop herself from screaming. She grabbed onto Enrique's unruly, wavy hair and pushed his face into her. He looked at at her, his eyes teasing, his tongue vigorously wagging on her clit, her body shook violently as she dripped all over his face. Enrique shifts and lies on his back gently pushing Camila's head down to his crotch. He was so hard his balls ached, his length touching past his navel. She went down and worked him. He exclaimed, "Hijo de puta, Camila, eres tan muy caliente, you suck so good!" She stops and hissed between gritted teeth, "Que bruto Enrique, you make more noise and I am going to bite your fucking head off." Enrique pleaded, "No por favor Camila, don't stop. She is fast asleep. She would never hear us. Por favor..." and he slightly pushes her head down again. Camila resisted once more. "She is paralyzed Enrique, not deaf, loco!"
Enrique grabs Camila's hips and flips her over abruptly (he's 6'2" height and stocky frame was no match with her svelte 5'3" figure). He roughly spread her butt cheeks, pulls her hair and pushes his swelling dick into her. She completely loses it and shrieks. He gets more excited and hammers faster, his groaning getting louder. "I want to hear you Camila, do you want me to fuck you? Dime, do you like my hard banging? Eh? Do you like my hard, big cock inside you? DIME!" He barked. "Si, si, me gusta mucho Enrique" she said under her breath.
He bellowed, louder this time, "Dime Camila, I can not hear you!" He pounds her harder and bores a finger into her anus. She started wailing and cawing, "Si Enrique, oh mi Dios, yes, yes, yesss, ohhh fuck me. Fuck me hard Enrique. Harder! Faster!" She screeched. They hump and grind, harder and faster, their loud voices echoed on the walls, forgetting where they are, who they are. She groaned, he growled, they cursed, they called each other's names. The dirty talk and the squawking didn't stop; the bed springs chimed in, the head boards repetitively banged on the wall disruptive of the tranquillity of the night.
In the other room, the woman's breathing apparatus made irregular wheezing sounds. Her vitals going in peaks and valleys. Monica lies awake, unmoving, still. Monica's complete paralysis was a result of a medical error of her anaesthesiologist during childbirth. She lost her baby too, in the process. That was two years ago. She did not regain most of her faculties, unfortunately, her auditory sense is intact. Enrique had hired Camila to be Monica's full-time Nurse and she took residence in their own house. Monica always knew that Enrique and Camila are lovers. Every single day, she prays and asks God, why she is still alive. She believes in her heart that it would have been more peaceful and acceptable for all had she just died in the operating table with her baby.
Monica stares blankly at the night sky through the open balcony. There are no stars. She hears the sound of risqué sex in the other room. Quiet tears stream down her cheeks, she badly wants to wipe them off, but she can't. She closed her eyes and more tears gush out. She shuts her mind and sings in her head; "Hush little baby don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird ..."
2018 - #3 - Third post of the year, 49 to go. I promised not to make this a boring weight-loss blog, which is easy because I'm not losing any weight. I don't have an ...
2 weeks ago