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When the last of the men descended the ladder, she voiced her fear. “I hope that doesn’t fall,” she said in Spanish.
“Don’t worry,” the handyman replied. “It has a steel support beam and extra support. The house would have to collapse before it fell. Plus, the chandelier is made of iron. You could get three people on that chandelier and it wouldn’t even splinter.” He pointed to the ladder. “Go up there and sit on it. See for yourself.”
At first, Marisela looked at him like he’d lost his mind, but then decided what the heck. The man followed close behind her. She knew he was getting a nice look at her bare derriere, underneath her floral skirt. She wore no panties in her ongoing attempt to entice Javier. But with this man looking, it was just creepy. She hurried up the steps until she reached the chandelier.
“See!”
He joined her up on one of the chandelier posts. The clearing of someone’s throat made them both look down. It was Javier. The handyman got nervous, descended the steps, and Javier escorted him out of the house.
After shutting the double doors, Javier looked up at Marisela perched on the chandelier. He could not stand to see her huddled next to another man in his house. Her short, low-cut floral dress sent him over the edge. The predator in him was released. He knew she wore no panties; she never did. She looked so small, fragile, and fuckable. To hell with it. He could no longer take it. He had to have her more than his next breath. He stalked up the long ladder like a jaguar seeking his prey. His gaze never wavered from hers. When he reached the final step, he joined her on the chandelier. He said nothing, simply pulled his steel rod out of his pants, grabbed her waist, and settled her on top of him. They both let out a contented sigh.
Damn, she was tight. He held his arm around her waist, supporting her on his lap. He pumped into her three times before deciding to take full advantage of their surroundings and change positions. He turned and straddled her body on the chandelier posts, face toward the floor, which was very far below. It was a large, hanging chandelier that spread out, so there was plenty of room to lie. He then adjusted his position, so he could easily grab her ass and smack it into his pulsing member. Once comfortable, the journey began. He leaned his body over her, supporting most of his weight on the chandelier stems, and lifted both of their midsections for deeper penetration. He had to touch her. He took one hand and massaged her breasts. Her head rolled back toward him. He bent to suckle her ear. His balls smacked against her sex, coating them with her wetness.
“Ooh, right there! Don’t stop!”
Her command took him over the edge. He dove into her hard and fast, trying to keep balance and not look down.
He was huge. She already knew it from when she had taken him into her mouth. From his back-entry penetration, she could feel all of him deep inside her. There was no beginning or end. They were one. His rigid shaft moved in and out of her, massaging her inner walls, touching her pleasure spots. The chandelier began to sway gently with the force of their copulation. Marisela held on to the chandelier bars for support. Her head rolled down. She noticed how far up they were. Her heartbeat sped up. The fear of falling only intensified the sweet torture Javier created in her body. The air brushed her clit, tickled her pussy, and plumped her already swollen lips. All of her senses were alive. The dick that massaged her insides gave her the most explosive orgasm she had ever experienced. She screamed, “Oh God!” and her cum slid down her leg, and journeyed toward the floor.
What the fuck was that? Francine wondered as something wet hit her smack in the face. She wiped the drop of moisture from her cheek and bent her head upward to see from where the noise and the moisture originated. What she saw brought bile to her throat, tears to her eyes, and caused her heart to ache. Her husband was swinging on a chandelier, banging into Marisela, and grunting, “I’m coming.”
Francine yelled, “What the hell is
going on?”
Javier came, Marisela laughed, and Francine cried. Vengeance had been served.
Alibi
CB Potts
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Alvarez. Our school district is too small. We’re simply not prepared to take on a student that doesn’t speak English.” Donald Altari rubbed the side of his temple with one aching hand. “It’s not that we don’t want to. Christian would be more than welcome. It’s that we can’t provide the education that the state says we must.”
Luisa smiled. “But you must understand my position, Mr. Altari. Christian must go to school somewhere. If he cannot go here, and he can’t go to Willsboro, and he can’t go to Lake Placid, where can he go?” She shook her head, her short black curls fanning over her shoulders. “Plattsburgh is over an hour and a half away by bus. That is unacceptable.”
“That is a long ride.” Donald tapped a few computer keys. “Maybe we could find a Spanish-speaking tutor who could homeschool Christian.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. He is a very social boy, and I think a year of being isolated from all the other children would not be in his best interests.” Luisa leaned forward. “Maybe if the tutor could come with him to the classroom, and translate—”
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Altari?” Glenn Rabideau, a short, stocky man leaned into the office. He handled language arts for the campus—largely French.
“Yes,” Donald replied. “Glenn, this is Mrs. Alvarez. Mrs. Alvarez, Glenn Rabideau. He turned toward the teacher, thankful for once that the man was not reeking of aftershave. “Mrs. Alvarez’s son doesn’t speak English, and we’re trying to come up with some way to teach him.”
Glenn smiled. It was a thin, narrow grimace, the type you see on well-fed weasels. “Well, maybe she should have him swim back to wherever they came from. I bet they speak plenty of good Spanish there.”
Donald’s jaw dropped so hard his cheeks hurt.
“Mr. Rabideau,” Luisa said, whirling to face Glenn in one fluid motion. “Let me assure you that while my son speaks no English, my command of the language is more than adequate. Your presence at this meeting is no longer required.”
Face flaming, Glenn looked to Donald. Hurriedly, Donald shut his gaping mouth, and nodded.
He’d barely left when Luisa continued. “Is this the attitude I am to expect from your school? Is this the environment I should send my child into? I think not!” She grabbed her purse from the floor and headed to the door.
Donald scrambled after her. “Mrs. Alvarez! Please, stop!” He caught her above the elbow, and found himself facing furious black eyes. “I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Mr. Rabideau will be reprimanded. I do not allow, nor do I tolerate, that kind of behavior on my campus.”
Time froze for a moment. Luisa held perfectly still, not moving for the space of a dozen heartbeats. Her eyes never left Donald’s. And then she smiled.
“Well, then, Mr. Altari, perhaps we can discuss how we will arrange Christian’s class schedule.”
