She looked up at him, batting her lashes in what she hoped was a coquettish manner. “How do you say fuck me in Spanish?”
“There are a number of ways. But I would rather you say quiero que me coges, as I believe you curse enough already.”
“Don’t start,” she said, laughing. “Because when I finally do get to cursing—”
“I know.” Eduardo chuckled. “I will know it.”
“You’re damn straight. Now, what was it you said?”
He repeated the phrase until she could say it perfectly. Then she arched a brow. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to fuck me or not?”
Eduardo looked at her, then down at his groin. “I think I am once again ready.” He grinned. “Listening to you practice has adequately prepared me, I think.”
“You think?” Gloria put her hand around his long, thick cock.
Eduardo pulled her close and slid inside her. But, Gloria, feeling mischievous, rolled over until she was on top of him.
“This time you will follow and I will lead,” she said grinning down at him.
Eduardo gave her a slow, lazy smile. “Sí, you can lead. This time.”
Gloria rocked against him, letting her swollen cunt swallow him completely. Eduardo’s throat worked as he matched her movements. Gloria gripped his shoulders, while he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them, his fingers pulling and twisting her nipples.
She slammed her body onto his, fiercely twisting her juicy cunt around his thick, stiff cock. His hands clenched her gyrating hips as she rode him hard and fast. It was like the dancing, Gloria suddenly realized, the two of them hot and synchronized, the two of them moving as one.
She cried out, her back arching sharply as she climaxed and, as Eduardo was still hard and thick inside her, his mouth now sucking hungrily at her dangling breasts, she looked forward to a long night of their salsa connection.
The Birthday Present (El Regalo)
Penelope Flynn
The only party anyone would bother attending at the beginning of August had to be near a pool. The Florida sun had beat down all day heating the sand, brick, concrete, and tar, raising the temperature well into the high nineties. Miguel stood at the balcony, overlooking the barrel-tiled roof of his Miami Beach home, and watched the sun slowly sink into the west. His dark brown eyes took in the splash of colors across the horizon as he backed into the relative cool of his bedroom and closed the French doors against the heat and humidity.
The bedroom was generally what one would expect to see in a well-dressed man’s room. His clothes and shoes were neatly arranged in his closet and in the dark wood wardrobe and chest of drawers, which held the remainder of his personal items. The large king-sized bed sat close to the French doors, giving him a view to the pool area beyond. He shut his eyes tightly, then inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly, dreading the next few hours. He turned up the music on his sound system and began preparing for the evening. He slipped his arms, sunkissed to a warm café au lait, into a short-sleeved white silk shirt and heard the doorbell ring as the guests started arriving. He was an attractive man with a slim, angular face and an engaging manner that had been absent the past few weeks. He pulled his thick, black, wavy hair into a ponytail and was looking for his shoes when he heard the frantic rapping on the doorsill.
“Happy birthday, Miguel!” Kelly giggled as she flung open the bedroom door, skipped into the room, and kissed him noisily on the lips. Kelly was a tallish, attractive girl with a slim build and high, perky breasts. Her light brown eyes sparkled with anticipation. Still in her early twenties, she was a little younger than what Miguel was used to. They’d been together for three months…the first of those was while he was still living with Ebony.
“Come on.” She laughed. “People are starting to show up.”
Kelly hurried him along, chiding him for waiting so long to get dressed as he stepped into his loafers. He was really in no mood to entertain. He simply wasn’t feeling himself lately. Kelly thought a party might pull him out of his funk, and even though he didn’t think so, he didn’t argue too much when she began planning and inviting everyone they knew. When he was finally ready, Kelly dragged him downstairs to greet the early arrivals.
Miguel could hear the music floating down the hallway as he was ushered toward the patio on Kelly’s arm. He had met Kelly when he was photographing a spread for a department store. She was a pretty, modelesque girl, and wore her blond hair in a classic flip. She said it was her trademark. Kelly was a little too short for the runway but just fine for the print work she was often called for. She confided that she wanted to be an actress. Miguel wasn’t certain she had the talent but didn’t discourage her from taking her classes and rushing off to auditions whenever she found a role to her liking.
“The Big three-O!
” Charlie yelled as he waded through the arriving guests. He gave Miguel a big bear hug and patted his back while simultaneously leering at Kelly. Miguel’s uncle Carlos, or the Americanized Charlie, which he preferred to be called, was the quintessential dirty old man. Now in his late sixties with no wife and children, he was spending a lifetime of earnings on pampering “sweet young things” and getting as much as he could out of them before they grew tired of him.
“Kelly, bonita, you’re more beautiful every day.” He smiled. “You should let me introduce you to some producer friends that I know. They’ll be shooting a film here in Miami in about three months and I know you’ll be perfect for one of the parts.”
“Really?” Her eyes glittered.
“Yes, really.”
Then Charlie smiled that smile Miguel recognized as the one he used when he thought another sweet young thing was about to take the bait.