The Phone Call

"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.

"Oh really?" she said, "Thursday? I think we can arrange that. Will he be bringing his new wife? No? His new girlfriend? No, you didn't tell me, when did this happen?"

Behind her, Carlos withdrew from Dorothy's dripping pussy, and sunk to his knees. Here he gently kissed her ass, working his way around the thong which was taut against her flesh. His fingers parted her ass, where he drove his tongue deep between her wet slit.

"Hold on a second, darling," Dorothy said, before putting her hand over the mouth-piece and bending round to Carlos, "You Mexican bastard," she groaned, feeling Carlos' tongue worm its way into her cunt, feeling his fingers play with her silky wet lips, feeling his nose pressed against her sensitive flesh.

"So is his new girlfriend hot?" Dorothy carried on. "Uh huh, ok," she said, feeling Carlos leave her pussy to assault her asshole. Oh fuck, she thought, her Achilles heel. Nothing gets her off that having her clit sucked with a finger in her ass. And Carlos knows this.

"Do you know what she's allergic to?" Dorothy went on. "I don't want to poison your boss's new girl, now do I?"

Below her Carlos lapped and licked and probed Dorothy's asshole, sliding one then two fingers deep into her pussy. Reversing his attack, he used her honey as lubricant to slide his middle finger into the tight brown mouth of her anus. He felt her tense, heard her voice tremble as he did so. Grinning, he sought out her clit and pursed his lips around it.

"N-no, darling, that sounds fine," Dorothy gasped, trying to compose herself. Oh, that fucking Mexican shit! "I'll do some shopping tomorrow," she said, bending forward, poking her ass into Carlos' face. God, get on with it, she thought. Make me come, you fucker!

Her clit between his lips Carlos flicked the tiny button with his tongue, all the while sliding his finger in and out of her asshole. Her honey oozed from her like a stream, he lapping and slurping and drinking her excitement as if he were parched.

"Yes, yes, darling," Dorothy stammered, her body tensing, her climax so close now. Oh fuck this was going to be such a -- "No, darling, I -- I saw something funny on TV," she said. Normally she'd tell him she was masturbating, and he'd no doubt get off on it, but knowing that Carlos was around ...

The landscaper forged ahead with his assault on her clit, he drumming it between his lips, his tongue seemingly mechanical. His finger slid in and out piston-like of her ass, his thick digit like a mini-cock without the annoyance of prickly male finger nails. God, she was going to come.

"Yes, babe," she managed to groan, Carlos's tongue now worming its way deep into her wet folds. She felt his nose pressed against her sensitive clit, his finger fucking her asshole. Her body tensed, her very being readied for climax. "I will, darling -- uh huh," she moaned, softly, trying to control her imminent orgasm, her very sexual fiber aching to be released, "Yes, I will, uh huh ... give me a second, will you?"

Dorothy rested the phone onto the kitchen counter, both hands over the mouth piece, and came, finally, noisily, whorishly and without guilt. She felt Carlos lap and swim in her honey which poured from her twitching cunt, felt his finger continue to fuck her ass as she came, her body an electrical-charged mess. As she steadied herself, keeping herself from sliding onto the kitchen floor she felt Carlos leave her cunt and ass and position himself behind her once more. Here, he slid his erection into her tender pussy, and without as much as a ruego carried on fucking her. Struggling for the phone, Dorothy carefully placed it to her ear and said, "I must go, darling," she panted, "The gardener wants me." This wasn't a lie, either. She hung up, dropped the phone, and let out a diatribe of profane filth.

"You motherfucker! You Mexican cock-sucker, what the fuck were you thinking?" she roared, momentarily oblivious to the fact that Carlos was jack-hammering his cock into her squelching cunt. "Goddamn, I can't believe you!" she went on, throwing her hair back, allowing him to grip it in his powerful hands as he pulled her head upwards, his other hand reaching for her now wobbling breasts. "Dear God, have you any idea how fucking horny that was? Christ on a bike, if my husband knew you were fucking me he'd shoot the pair of us!"

As if to shut her up, Carlos spanked her ass, hard. "Oh fuck yeah, you bastard," she groaned, his hands palming her heavy breasts, his great, throbbing prick swelling within her, "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

"Cochino mujerzuela, you make me cum," Carlos grunted, his cock throbbing mercilessly within the hot, wet folds of her pussy. She squeezed him, gripping his meat-shaft with her cunt-muscles, wanting his tasty Mexican Chili Con Queso all to herself.

"That's it, baby," Dorothy groaned, his fat prick growing to almost double its size inside her, "let me eat your cum!"

Carlos withdrew from her sopping cunt, his cock sticky, glistening from a layer of her honey. He pulled on his member, his fist gripping his shaft tightly. Through gritted teeth he watched Dorothy spin round and sink to her knees before him, she squeezing her half-cupped breasts together for a visual treat. She reached for his balls, fingering them, tickling them, all the while gazing wantonly at the Mexican landscaper stud, she licking her lips, stretching out her tongue invitingly to him.

"Cum on my face!" she hissed, as Carlos stepped into her, his hand pulling frantically on his cock. Staring into his dark brown eyes, listening to his heavy, distinct panting she recognized each and every time he came, Dorothy felt a sudden torrent of hot, salty male-cum splatter her left cheek, then her right, another shooting across her forehead and into her hair before a deluge emptied into her mouth. She sucked upon his shooting prick as his copious ejaculation flooded the back of her throat, she gulping greedily, her tongue licking beneath his cock lavishly before she spat him out, his seed spilling from her full red lips. "I love your cum," she smiled.

Carlos shook his spent cock onto her, last drops of silver cum sprinkling her already cum-coated face. "Sucio prostituta," he sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

Dorothy giggled, licking her fingers clean. She loved his funny language.

Beside them, resting quietly on the kitchen counter sat the phone Dorothy had spoken to her husband with. Though she assumed she turned it off, she had not. And on the other end, her husband, who had heard everything, silently contemplated ...

Fin