“Beer and wine” was emblazoned in large letters across the side of the small brick building that housed a small store across the street from a run-down apartment community called the “Spanish Villas.”
She was standing outside the “C’ convenience store, wearing tight little short-shorts and a much-too-small t-shirt that accentuated her model-like figure. She had long black hair that curled at the ends, that reached to the middle of her back. Her bronze-colored skin told me she was probably not from this country, but an immigrant. There was a line of about six or seven guys sitting on the side of the building, on the ground, migrant workers, looking for work, no doubt. She stood alone and apart from them, and they seemed to pay her very little attention.
It was a warm day. The temps were near one hundred degrees. This was Texas and it was summer.
I made a U-turn to check out the lovely. She gazed in my direction as I pulled up to the light and stopped. I made a right turn and headed down a side street, the circled back through the neighborhood of single story framed houses with fenced-in front yards. As luck would have it, she was nowhere to be seen by the time I made it around the block.
“Definitely a hooker,” I thought to myself. Still, I was curious. But then again, I argued with myself in silence, street girls just don’t look that nice.
I pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store and stepped into the store. I figured I might as well buy me a six-pack of beer, as long as I was in the area.
I grabbed a six-pack from the cooler and as I stood at the register, waiting to pay, I became acutely aware that I was not alone. I glanced over my shoulder and saw my lovely, who was even more attractive up close than I could have even possibly imagined, standing right behind me. Our eyes met, for only a brief second, when the clerk said, “Next.”
“Will that be all?” the clerk inquired.
I turned and looked at my lovely and said,
“I’ve got hers as well.”
She looked shocked, standing behind me with an unopened bottle of water. When she didn’t respond, the clerk told her, in Spanish,
“Esta pagando por ti,”which translated meant I was offering to pay for her water.
She sat the water bottle on the counter, proffering a “Gracias.”
“Deberia ir con el, el tiene cerveza,” she said. I don’t speak much Spanish, but I do understand a little.
The clerk smiled.
“Vamanos,” I replied in Spanish (“Let’s go!”)
“Te habla espanol?” she asked. (Do you speak Spanish?)
“Poquito,” I replied. I grabbed the bottle of water and placed it in the paper sack along with my beer.
“Te habla Inglis?” I asked. (Do you speak English)
“I know a leetle,” she replied with a strong accent.
Once in the car, I introduced myself and she said her name was Claudia.
“Te gusta Claudia,” I replied. (I like Claudia)
She beamed a beautiful white-toothed smile as I dug out a beer and handed it to her. She popped open the silver tab and took a gulp as I did the same thing. She then unceremoniously wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Saludos!” she toasted.
“Saludos,” I replied.
“Do you need a ride home?” I asked.
“No,” she replied. “I am looking for work.”
“What do you do?” I inquired.
“Anything and everything,” she replied in broken English. “Puedo limpiar.” (Meaning, “I clean”)
“Entiendo,” I replied, to indicate I understood.
“Your Spanish is gud,” she replied.
“Lo intendo,” I replied. I took another sip of my beer.
I could tell she was nervous. Beads of sweat had formed on her temple and her brow.
“Es caliente,” I noted. (It is hot)
“Si,” she acknowledged.
“Eres tu caliente,” I noted. (You are hot)
“No mucho,” she replied.
“..y sexy,” I quickly added to gage her reaction.
She flipped her soft long brown hair backwards and over her shoulder.
“No mucho,” she softly replied.
“Si,” I argued. “Veo los ojos te siguen.” (The eyes, they follow you)
“Si,” she replied, “Pendejos.”
“Am I a pendejos?” I asked.
“No,’ she replied, speaking in English, “You are a nice man. You share your beer with me.”
“You speak good English,” I replied.
“I know a leetle,” she replied, “so I try.”
“Do you want to go for a drive?” I asked.
She looked confused. I placed my hands on the steering wheel of my sports utility vehicle and moved them back and forth.
“Vamanos?” I asked.
“Si,” she replied.
She pulled out a second beer and popped open the tab.
“Do you want one?” she asked.
“No,” I replied. “I am driving.”
“Can we go to the park?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “Donde?”
“I show you,” she replied in her broken English. “Turn here.”
I followed her directions and within a few minutes were driving into a small park about a mile from the convenience store where we had met. The park road was a small black top drive and it took us into a wooded area with a large parking lot. I pulled into the lot and stopped under a shade tree.
‘Do you want a beer?” she asked as I turned off the engine.
“Si,” I replied. She popped open the top and handed it to me.
“Saludos!” I toasted before taking a gulp.
“I like you,” Claudia said softly as I looked out across the park.
“You just met me,” I replied.
“But you are a nice man, I can tell,” she quickly shot back.
She slipped her hand across the seat divider and on to my arm.
“Do you think I am sexy?” she inquired.
“Yes,” I replied.
“My boobies are too big,” she replied, cupping them in her hands and teasingly thumbing her nipples through the thin cotton fabric of her t-shirt. It was clearly obvious she was not wearing a bra.
“They look good to me,” I replied.
She took my hand in hers and placed my hand onto her left breast, squeezing my hand in the process.
“Do you like them?” she pressed as she held my hand in place on her covered left breast.
“Si,” I replied in Spanish.
Claudia pushed my hand up under the edge of her form-fitting t-shirt and onto her boob. She continued to squeeze my hand, forcing me to feel the tenderness of her luscious and firm all-natural globe.
I stayed quiet, letting her take the lead.
“Do you like?” she pressed in broken English.
“Si,” I replied.
“Don’t be nervous,” Claudia intoned. “I will not bite you.”
“Don’t be nervous.” I couldn’t help but be nervous. I didn’t know where things were going to go. I was alone in a park with a girl I just met, and I just knew she was going to pull a knife or a gun on me and rob me. I had heard the stories. I quickly surveyed for a possible escape route. I made a mental note that my cell phone was still laying on the console between us.
“I like you,” Claudia repeated.
“I like you too,” I replied.
“Quieres tener sexo?” she asked. (Do you want to have sex)
“No tendo dinero,” I replied. (I don’t have money)
“Es no problemo,” she replied. “Tengo cerveza.” (I have beer)
I chuckled.
“Condun?” I asked.
“I am married, but we do not have sex,” Claudia replied.
“Not have sex?” I shot back. “What kind of idiot are you married to?”
“I give him a blow job, but nothing else,” Claudia replied. “He is not a good guy. He does not deserve a reward. He is an asshole.”
I was floored. This girl was astoundingly beautiful.
“I am horny,” she declared, crossing her arms in front of her and pulling her form-fitting, way-too-small t-shirt over her head, fully exposing her 38D-cup all-natural breasts to me. Her nipples were perched perfectly on top of her breasts and centered in the middle of dark areolas.
She arched her buttocks from off of the cabin seat next to me and silently stripped out of her tiny shorts. She slipped her long slender fingers down to her crotch and worked a lone middle finger into her womanhood, as she bit down on her lower lip.
The sweet musky smell of a woman in lust filled my nostrils.
Her abdomen was flat and chiseled. She sported a very thin, closely cropped line of pubic hair that pointed the way to her love box.
“Do you think I am sexy?” she asked, looking over at me.
“Duh.”
Without saying a word, she turned in the cabin seat and faced me. I stripped out of my polo shirt and unfastened my belt. I toe-to-heel kicked off my tennis shoes and then I shimmied out of my jeans, leaving on my bikini briefs which barely covered my massive erection at this point.
She reached across the seat divider and placed her hand on my tool, feeling my tool.
“I like deese,” she remarked softly.
I reached across the divide and fondled her left breast, teasingly pinching the nipple.
“I like this,” I replied.
She smiled and leaned in closer to where I was seated next to her. She licked her lips and smiled. I leaned in closer and our lips met; softly at first, then suddenly with wild abandon; the passion of lust was uncontrollable. She grabbed my head and I hers, as we thrust our tongues deep into each other’s oral cavities.
Oh my God! This girl was uncontrollable. We found our way into the back seats. She pressed her naked body against mine and pushed my bikini briefs down my legs, stripping me of any remaining dignity. She pushed the door open and repositioned herself so she could go down on me. I was in heaven.
“I am going to cum,” I exclaimed after only a few seconds of her very stimulating fellatio skills.
“No!” she cried out. “Put it in me!”
She stepped out of the van and I followed. She spun around and bent forward, grabbing the armrest of the middle seat of chairs in the van, her ass pointing in my direction. I slapped her small ass with one hand, which made her jump. Beads of moisture had formed on the dark-colored folds of her vagina. I slipped a lone finger into her womanhood as she shuddered. I could see her hands balled up into clenched fists.
I slipped my nine-inch circumcised steel rod up to her buttocks and gently worked the tip end of it around the folds of her vagina.
“Fuck me, poppy” she begged.
I slipped my cock into her vagina. It was a tight fit, so I had to go slowly. I could feel the channel of her womanhood opening up and then clamping down on the shaft of my tool. I pushed forward until I couldn’t go any further. I worked my hips back and forth, my tool slip-sliding back and forth in her vagina. She pulled her long hair forward and over her shoulders. I held on to her hips for the longest time and then I leaned in and grabbed her by the shoulders, just as I unloaded deep inside of her.
Her grunts and “aye” calls told me I had hit a home run. She shuddered and beat on the cabin chair as I unloaded.
Suddenly, she turned and faced me, my semi-erect cock just hanging there. We kissed and then she dropped into a squatting position directly in front of me, to orally clean up a few things.
Oh my God! This was totally unexpected.
We took up seats in the middle row of my van and finished off the beer as we chatted about her marriage.
“I like gringos,” Claudia remarked.
“So, you have been with other gringos,” I questioned.
“No,’ she replied, “Tu es primero.”
You said “gringos” I noted.
“I am sorry for my English,” Claudia replied. “You are my first gringo.”
I told her I felt like I should pay her.
“No,” Claudia insisted. “I am not a hooker. I only fuck if I want to.”
We dressed and as we did, Claudia told me she was going to divorce her husband. I asked why.
“He is an asshole,” Claudia repeated. “I will marry you.”
Hold up. Marry me? Did she just say “marry’?
Claudia giggled.
“You have a big tool,” Claudia intoned. “Jose, I cannot find his.”
I laughed.
“There is more to life than cerveza and sex,” I replied.
“I know,” Claudia replied. “Pero, cerveza y sex is muy bueno.”
I dropped Claudia back off at the “C” Store. The day laborers were still situated in the very same spaces, where I had seen them before, sitting on the shadow side of the convenience store. Claudia exited my van and readjusted her shorts. She peered back at me, winked and said,
“Come see me again. Pudeo trabajar para ti, manana!” (I can start work for you tomorrow)
I watched as she walked past the migrant workers.
“Claudia!” one of them said, “Eres sexy, casate conmigo!” (Marry me).
She just kept right on walking. . . . . .
