Shorting the Heart

She pushed at his thighs and slipped him from her mouth, turning her head and coughing. Manny waited patiently holding his shirt up to his waist.

"Have you changed your mind, Rosa? I need you tell me you're okay."

Though he dreaded giving her a way out, he needed remind her that she wasn't being forced, that it was her decision.

Rosa sniffed and wiped the corner of her eye, her lips trembling. "No, I'm fine. Just . . . please, don't . . . Just promise you'll do what you say."

"Rosa... Look at me, sweetie. I'mma take care of you. I promise. Okay?"

Staring up into him with dark big eyes, the desperate immigrant nodded.

"Good. Now, I'm almost done but it might be a little rougher this time. Just tap my leg if it gets too much. I want make you swallow but I am cumming in your mouth."

Rosa averted her gaze and took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff before giving a muted nod.

"Okay, here we go."

Manny grabbed his dick and stuck it back into her mouth. And he was rougher, fucking her mouth with purpose. He held a firm grip on the crown of her head and drove his dick to the back her throat. She gagged and jerked a few times but took it, as if to prove that she could. Manny's breathing grew heavier, huffing as he tried to outrun the nut that was chasing him. He wished that he could gone on forever; but, as if she could sense the finish, Rosa began to work her tongue in earnest, coating his cock with her hot slick saliva. This new sensation was enough to send him over and Manny came with loud growl, letting go of her head and propping himself up on the couch while he emptied himself in her mouth.

"Fuck!"

Rosa coughed, spilling spit and cum out of the corners of her mouth. To Manny's surprise and delight, she kept working her tongue, even squeezing him with her mouth.

When Manny pulled back she opened her mouth into her cupped hands. A copious amount; but Manny surmised that she had swallowed a good bit. He reached on the table and grabbed a few tissues, giving her some and taking a few for his slimy dick.

After they'd tidied themselves, Rosa freshening up in the nearby bathroom, Manny walked her to the door and reached into his wallet. Two hundred.

"We'll call it a signing bonus," he said, placing the money in her hand and held it, meeting her reluctant eyes. "I meant what I said about taking care of you. Call that number if you need something."

Tucking her lips into her mouth, Rosa nodded, still unable to fully meet his gaze. Manny figured she'd time to adjust and decided not to push her. He opened the door and watched her walk to her car, holding her purse tightly to her body. Then his locked in her big Latina ass in jeans, each cheek popping with the sway of her hips. He couldn't wait until Monday.

***

The weight of the situation didn't hit Manny until the next day. From Monday to Friday, he would have a (mostly) willing big booty Latina available for sex. This fact never left his mind. Whether it was unloading the dishwasher, running, or drinking beer at the grill, he was consumed by the possibilities. So many. He could hardly fixate on one before another took his place. He was a kid set lose in a candy store.

He knew he had to play it delicately. Not push her too far or too hard. For that reason alone, he decided to hold off from fucking her until Friday, or maybe Thursday, but definitely the first week. The situation was perfect for him. Despite being a good-looking guy at 6'1" with an athletic build of lean muscle, it'd been so long since he had sex that he'd actually thought about ordering a bride off the internet. He loved sex, of course, but wanted companionship, too. Someone to vacation with and take out on dates. Well, he wasn't in a hurry. He was only thirty and had time to settle down, and was more than happy to satisfy the needs of the flesh before that of the heart.

***

For all his anticipation, Monday morning was uneventful. Manny had arrived early to set up Rosa's desk and computer, letting her let herself in. She unlocked and opened the front door and froze when she saw him at the desk—they both did. Staring as if they'd expected the other to not show. As per her boss's orders, she wore a simple black skirt and reddish pink blouse. Manny smiled and waved her in, motioning to her desk, which she looked upon with some pride.

The next hour was spent familiarizing her with the computer, a simple desktop and monitor. He showed her the intercom as well. All the while, he took liberties with his hands—grasping her shoulders, her breasts, her booty—behaving like an ad exec from the Fifties, breaking in his "girl." For her part, Rosa seemed resigned to his behavior, enduring the pats and squeezes with quiet resolve, not failing to notice his attention to her ass.

When he thought she had an adequate foundation to start from—and was sufficiently convinced he could touch her without complaint—he went into his office and made calls, shooting the shit with a few contacts to see how the week was shaping. He flicked on the TV and muted the sound, wanting only the ticker of stocks and numbers at the bottom, while tabulating a mental list of calls he'd make during lunch.

An hour later he was lost in the finance world. Unloading junk bonds for one firm, rating the sale of another. He was a digital traffic director. Instead of white gloves and whistle, an ear piece and Android, but never stepping in their path or behind the wheel. He made less money, sure, but Manny could never stomach too much risk. It reminded him of his teenage years, competing with drug dealers and grown men for females. He preferred to have sure—"

"Mr. Tisdale?"

Manny spun around and saw a pretty Latina chick, standing inside his door, looking around curiously. Rosa. He'd momentarily forgotten her, and after looking her up and down he said, "You say something?"

Rosa took a moment to look around and see him in his element. In dark dress slacks, expensive shoes, watch, and a shirt and tie combo with his sleeves rolled up. She swallowed and said, "Would it be okay if I take my lunch?"

He frowned and glanced at his watch—11:45 a.m.

"Oh, sure," he said. "I lost track of time." Usually he didn't eat until one or two. "Where you going?" he asked, walking towards her. He reached back for his wallet.

She motioned back towards her desk. "I brought something."

"You . . . when?" he asked, but even as he said it, he remembered her big purse. "Oh," he said, stopping in front of her at the door. He put his wallet back.

". . . Do you want me to leave and get you something?" she asked, very much like an assistant would.

He shook his head. "Ain't no thing. What you got?"

"A couple of sandwiches and some fruit."

"Huh," he said, raising his brow at the meagre meal. "Sounds healthy."

She turned to leave then stopped, turning back to face him. "You sure you don't want me to go out?"

"Nah," he said, then caught a glimpse of her side profile in the door. Her black skirt did little in diminishing the volume of her butt. "But I'll take a hug, though."

She chewed her bottom lip nervously and hesitated at the door before walking into his arms, which wrapped around her waist where he cupped her skirt-clad ass. She held on limply to his back, standing passively while he took his time and squeezed her soft booty.

Manny reveled in her soft warmth and the power he felt from her submission to him. The standard anxieties that came along with his job faded away, leaving him with a sweet calmness. "You're like a stress-reliever," he said, breathing in her scent. He pulled back and looked down into her impassive face. "You're still leaving today at two thirty?"

"Yes sir."

"So, you'll be ready for me at, what, one forty-five?"

Her gaze wavered as she nodded. "Yes sir."

"Okay," Manny said, looking back to his phone. As far as he was concerned, whatever issues she had, was hers to handle—she was gaining as much from the situation as he was, perhaps more. "Enjoy your lunch."

Manny worked steadily and didn't see Rosa again until one forty-five when she knocked on his open door. He was at his desk entering a summary of the day's transactions. Nothing specific, just a general feel of his performance—how well he spotted junk deals and exploited opportunities. At the sound of the knock he looked up from his monitor.

Their eyes met but neither said a word. Just stared, waiting for the other to make the first move. Manny understood her reluctance but believe that it was her job to take the initiative. If he'd did that, waited for someone to tell him study or wake up for work, he'd be on the street. And no one would pay him five hundred a week for eating pussy.

Deciding to let it pass for now, Manny waved her in. "I just need a few more minutes. Have a seat."

She walked inside and was momentarily confused to see that the chair in front of his desk was now on the other side.

Manny hurried his summary, his fingers a blur over the keyboard. But he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Yes, he'd placed the chair on his side of the desk, to the right, giving him a clear view of her. She sat with her knees together—the chair was angled toward his desk—holding her hands in her lap.

"Cross your legs, Ms. Martinez," he said, giving her a sideways glance. She did, slipping her right leg over the other, her face that of a schoolgirl being told to sit straight. This schoolgirl, however, had shapely coffee-colored legs. The skirt wasn't nearly as short as he wanted but it rode up and revealed a mouth-watering patch of under-thigh. And he didn't much care for those three-inch heels. He stored this away for the performance review he had planned for next week. Returning to the monitor, he said, "We didn't get much time to talk. How was your first day?"

"Good, thank you." Rosa looked down her lap. "I think I'm getting better at the typing . . . That game's fun."

Manny glanced over and was wowed by her smile. She was already a naturally beautiful woman, but it went to another lever when she smiled. "I thought you'd might like it," he said, looking back to the monitor. "Let me know if you get bored. There's one where you shoot zombies by typing the word they have across their chest." She nodded good-naturedly, and after an awkward silence, Manny said, "We'll go easy these first few days and see where we are by Thursday or Friday. Give us time to get use to each other, you know?"

Rosa gave a muted nod, deciphering the subtext just as he'd hoped. A final click and his summary was done. Manny swiveled around and faced her, his arms resting on the armrests. He relaxed comfortably in the high-backed leather recliner. "I'm ready, Ms. Martinez."

What followed was a blowjob that would've made a Victorian proud—passionless and to the point. But the Latina's mouth was warm and wet, and Manny loved how his dick disappeared inside her exotic face. This time he let her do the work, on her knees, while he relaxed and watched. There was no variation. She braced herself against his thigh with her left hand and jerked him with her right. The rest—her wet mouth and mane of obsidian hair—bobbed with the fixed motion of an oil derrick. Manny would've preferred a more enthusiastic performance, and felt wholly within his rights to demand it. He instead enjoyed her slick mouth and soft hand, her ass resembling Mickey Mouse ears behind her head.

He held her head when he came. Jerked himself with her face while empting inside her mouth.

She gave him one final squeeze when he let go, then raised to her feet without meeting his eyes. Cupping a hand beneath her bulging mouth, she turned walked out, her skirt hiked up over her wide hips. Manny had to stop himself from snapping a picture of her bouncing ass.

He was still reeling from that unenthused blowjob. How did it feel so good? There was something about the way she felt, as if she was made to pleasure a man. He'd never been with a Latina chick and wondered if they all were like her.

He grabbed a Kleenex and wiped himself. He couldn't wait to have her pussy.

***

The next three days carried on much the same as Monday. Manny would spend an hour showing her the basics of computing—excel, word, and such—while running his hands over her body. He discovered that if he left her nipples alone she would sit passively and for the most part ignore his hands. But a pinch or flick on her nipple would cause her to tense and close down, making him feel like a dirty old man. That bothered him, so he focused on her ass and thighs instead.

He'd spend the rest of morning in his office, working calls, watching stock prices and trades with unblinking eyes. Until around 11:30 when Rosa would knock on his door and ask if he wanted anything for lunch. To which he always declined since she wasn't going out, having brought in a lunch for home. Tuesday, when she turned to leave his office, he snapped his fingers, pointing at her butt. "But you know I'll take some stress-relief." Wednesday, he only had to look. Thursday, she came to him, hugging him passively while he squeezed and rubbed her booty.

Each day ended in a blowjob—each as robotic as the first. Still, they were good enough that he would jerk off before work so he could last in the afternoon. And while he wanted more passion from her, he admitted that he was probably being a little insensitive. Maybe the job was messing with her self-esteem. Maybe if he could relate to her somehow, see things from her side of the desk, he could play liaison between their perspective needs, buyer and seller, and have them both smiling at the end of the transaction. And being the nice guy he was, he wouldn't even charge his normal fee.

Thursday

When the front door closed shut, Manny hurried into the lobby. It was 2:30 p.m. Rosa had just left for the day. Peeking through the blinds, he watched her turn left down the sidewalk in front the window, watching her give his Mercedes AMG a long stare before reaching her vehicle, a white Honda sedan whose windshield was cracked in the top, left-hand corner. She had worn black slacks today, which was totally against the dress code. Manny had let it slide on the count that they were soft and didn't hide the contours of her big Latina ass—as if anything could. She entered her car, ignoring the cab parked three spaces down. After a few strained starts, the engine turned over and she backed out, on her way to pick up her son from school.

When the white Honda pulled onto the highway and headed away, Manny hurried out of the building and locked the door back, then made for the cab.

"Follow that white Honda."

***

Manny realized that to an outside observer his actions could be misinterpreted as stalkerish. Watching the dented rear of the white sedan take off at a traffic five car lengths away, he admitted that it felt that way, a little. But his aims were completely noble, selfless, even. Manny believed if he could see a child with a backpack jostling on his back, running towards her, that he would see her not only as a fine piece of Latina ass, but as struggling mother trying to give her son every—"

"Hey, man," Manny asked the cabbie, seeing the Honda's right red blinker flashing, taking an exit that lead into an apartment complex. "Is there a school around here?"

"Sure," the cabbie said. "Twenty minutes west. Want me to make a U-turn?"

"Naw," Manny said, clenching his jaw. "Keep with that Honda. My assistant's been cheating me on hours. You cool letting me see which apartment she parks at?"

"Mr., if you're paying, I'll pull up to her bedroom door."

The cabbie didn't pull up to her bedroom but stayed back on a side street that offered a clear view of the three-building apartment complex. Manny watched the Honda pull into a parking space in front an eight-unit building, with the same focus he used when watching stock prices. He could see her fine Latina ass even from fifty feet away. She went to door 3B and disappeared inside. They waited.

That Manny had a slight Tennessean accent came out through the idle chitchat that followed. Also, that a school bus was due shortly, and would discharge a truckload of dark-haired kids. "I swear, you can't tell them apart!" Manny smiled, the innocent racist remark reminding him of home. But as he looked out across the complex, he swore he saw six or seven Rosa's. He shook his head. An apartment complex filled with fine, big booty Latinas. Maybe he could find a new assistant here.

The squishing air brakes of yellow school bus announced the end of a school day. It turned into the street leading into the complex and hit the speed bump at the entrance like a maniac, spilling cheers and screams from its downed windows. The cabbie shook his head and grumbled, "Murdering the shocks."

But to his word, when the bus stopped, its occupants exited and Manny couldn't tell any apart. Black-haired heads with flashes of reds and blue underneath. He instead watched 3B like it was an end-day-trade. With the three buildings arranged in an inverted U, some kids cut west while others east. Then some went north, passing the parked white Honda. Two went to 1B. Another to 2B—the tease—and some swept up stairs to 5B and 7B. Then one headed to 3B, jostling a prominent Spider Man backpack—it's white eyes staring out from the red mask. He went to the door and Manny assumed knocked. Because a second later it opened...

The cabbie drove him back to the office, where Manny paid the meter and left a generous tip. On the way to his car he kept picturing the woman who opened the door. Was that Rosa? He couldn't tell, but that didn't matter. He knew where she'd been Friday morning.

***

He was sitting behind his desk when she came in to work the next day. In front of him laid five, one hundred dollar bills. Across from him was the chair she would sit, maybe for the last time. He'd left a note on her desk to come into his office right away. He waited.

A moment later she appeared in his door—wearing fucking jeans. "You wanted to see me, sir."

Seething, he looked up from her offending wardrobe and motioned to the chair. "Sit, we need to talk, Ms. Martinez."

She walked to chair, humble-like, her hands clasped behind her back, which emphasized her breasts in a red button-down. Her eyes zeroed in on the five hundred dollars laying before him, then looked to him and fell at his piercing glare. She seated herself and looked at him apprehensively.

For the first few seconds, Manny just glared at her. Despite his generosity and honesty, she'd played him. Just like those girls back home. He'd brooded over it all day and night. He was so upset he thought about waiting until Monday. But that would only give him more time to brood.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Let it out slow, slow, slow. He opened his eyes and sat on his hands on his desk then interlocked them to stop them from shaking. "Ms. Martinez," he began, "I have some grievances to discuss. Firstly, I should inform that anger clouds my judgment. I know this from experience. I've lost fifty thousand on a trade, all because some stranger on the phone pissed me off. Blatant lies; disrespect; being used—these things anger me."

He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes on her. "But I'm only upset right now. Understand?"

Nervously, Rosa nodded, not knowing what to make of things so far.

"Good," he said, giving simple nod. "Now, I'm going to explain why I'm upset. I advise you to sit there and listen—no interruptions. I'll give you time to make a counter argument, okay?"

Fear and anxiety rounded her dark eyes. She nodded.

"So, I followed you to your apartment yesterday—I know, a little crae-crae, but I felt that our relationship wasn't leaving up to its maximal potential; and whenever that happens I research the person I'm doing business with. The more I know, the easier it'll be to give them what they want; which will incline them to give me what I want."