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My target was seated on a stool at the far end of the counter, surrounded by his boys. Conversation ceased as I strode the entire length of the restaurant to get to him, the only sounds the clack of my heels on the dirty floor and staticky salsa squeezed from an ancient radio. A dozen pairs of eyes followed my every step, but I didn’t give a damn—I’m used to the stares. At forty years old, I still look good. I might be thick, but I work out for two hours every day, my double-d breasts are still firm and impressive, and thousands of hours of step classes ensure that you can bounce a quarter off my ass. My tanned skin sets off my dark hair and eyes, those unmistakable Puerto Rican features inherited from mi mamá. It didn’t hurt that the dress I was wearing almost fit me like a second skin or that I hadn’t bothered to wear either panties or a bra.
I approached him and in two minutes, we were in my car. I didn’t get his name. I only wanted one thing, so name, rank, and serial number were unnecessary. Ten minutes after that we were parked in the alley, and I was naked and riding his long, hard dick and getting it exactly the way I liked it—hard and rough! I would be bruised all over my body tomorrow, for sure. Miguel almost never noticed my “souvenirs” even though I made sure to flaunt them in front of him. On the rare occasion he did notice, I told him they were from my kickboxing classes, and he actually believed that lame excuse. ¡Idioto! I’ve never taken a kickboxing class in my life.
The thug squeezed my left nipple hard. My eyes watered from the pain, but I loved it. That sensation, combined with the feeling of the head of his monster dick grinding against my cervix, was powerful. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of gunshots rang out. They were close, a block or two away, from the sound of it. The thug heard them, too, and lifted his head up, instantly alert. I wasn’t about to put up with any distractions, not even gunshots, so I grabbed his hair and forced his face between my sweat-slicked breasts. He refocused his attention, regained his rhythm, and stroked me violently, biting my nipples so hard it felt as if he were trying to make me pay for daring to be forceful with him. I ground down on him harder, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair, and forced his head back and bit his neck, leaving a livid red bruise. If he had a girlfriend, he was going to have some explaining to do tomorrow. In return he grasped my long hair with one hand and now it was my turn for my head to be painfully wrenched back. He took a firm hold of my neck and squeezed. My air was restricted and it was harder and harder to breathe, but I didn’t stop riding his dick. As spots danced before my eyes, I screamed in ecstasy.
“Ohhhh, Papi! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’mcumming! I’mcumming! I’mcumming! I’mcumming!”
Even as the orgasm took over and made my body shake and buck like a marionette on a string, he didn’t stop, and continued pounding away as surge after surge of pleasure flowed throughout my entire body, finally ending with a flood of cum gushing like a waterfall from my pussy, saturating his dick and balls and the leather upholstery.
I collapsed, spent, on the thug’s chest, trying to catch my breath, but he wasn’t having it.
“Yo, wake the fuck up, bitch,” the thug said. “Come suck my dick.”
I don’t take shit from anybody in this world, but his words turned me on more than I would have thought possible. Instantly, my pussy became soaking wet again.
“Sí, Papi,” I said, and rose up off the thug’s dick, unlocked the car door, and led him outside. After the relative comfort of expensive German air-conditioning, the humidity was like a physical force bearing down on us.
I pushed the thug down onto the hood of the car. He lay there, his pene standing up and at attention. Thick veins ran up and down its length, still slick from my juices. I removed the condom, threw it to the rats, and stroked him slowly, feeling his dick become even harder by my attention. A single tiny droplet of pre-cum oozed from the tip and I bent over to taste it, then put the head in my mouth, savoring the flavor of our combined essences. His balls also got attention from my skilled tongue, swirling around them before I put his entire huge sac in my mouth and sucked gently.
His moans became louder and lights flickered on in the windows of the apartments that overlooked the alley. If the residents were watching, they were getting an eyeful of me, naked except for heels, bent over with a mouthful of dick.
I put his hardness in my mouth again, sucking furiously. He responded, his hips rising to force more of his length down my throat. I let him, knowing he was close and I wanted it all, every last drop of him. His body twisted and levitated off the hood of the car and he grabbed two fistfuls of hair as he came, ramming his dick into my mouth and down my throat, gagging me. Waves of hot cum exploded down my throat and I swallowed as fast as I could, but still some of his cum escaped out of the sides of my mouth.
“You better swallow all of it, bitch. Don’t waste it!” he said, and I obeyed his order, licking his dick and balls to collect every drop of cum that had escaped my eager mouth.
After draining him dry, I removed a tube of lubrication and a condom from the Hermès purse Miguel bought me for my last birthday. I squeezed a healthy dab of the gel in my palm, put the condom on his dick, and lubed his erection well, spreading the gel over the shaft and the head before assuming the position on the hood of the car.
Naked and defenseless, lying ass up, facedown on the hood of an $85,000 luxury automobile in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city, I was at my most vulnerable but I felt the most alive. All my senses were in high gear. My skin tingled; I felt the heat from the still-warm hood and my asshole quivered in anticipation of what was to come. I felt the thug’s hands on my hips as he braced himself to ravage me. I heard the fearless Bronx rats still feeding in the dark and more windows from the apartments above opening, voyeurs preparing to witness my violation at the hands of the young thug.
“Damn, you a sexy bitch, you fuckin’ nasty puta!” the thug said, in awe of my shapely ass.
I felt the substantial weight of his dick as he used it to slap my ass. He positioned the head at my tender opening and gave an uncertain push, probably skeptical that my tight hole would accommodate his massive manhood.
Another push, harder this time, and the head slid in slowly. Aided by the lubrication, I felt myself opening to accommodate his width. His dick was well lubricated, but the pain was still unbelievable.
“You like that shit, bitch?” he asked.
“Sí, Papi, sí, sí, dame más, dame más!”
He rammed a few more inches into my ass and the world exploded in pure agony. I heard a scream, then realized it was coming from me.
I closed my eyes, but the tears managed to find a way past my eyelids and down my face. I cried, not only because of the thug’s huge tool was inside me, but because I wondered why it was that mi amor, would not, could not, make me feel a fraction of what this common street criminal could. I cried because I have everything a person could want, yet I was dead inside, only alive when I risked my life for cheap thrills.
The thug continued to stroke my ass; his entire dick was inside me now, stretching me wider open than I’d ever been before. My moans came louder, harder; I couldn’t help myself. His rhythm was perfect, pistonlike, steady, and not too slow or too fast, the perfect speed to allow me to feel and savor every last inch of his huge tool in my asshole.
I felt my body responding, the pain was now gone and the pleasure almost equally unbearable. I had thought that his whole length was inside me, but I was wrong. There was more, and my moans got louder still, almost screams, as more and more of him was forced inside me. I had never been penetrated this deeply before; my ass was on fire. I couldn’t move, paralyzed by my violation. Just when I felt as if it was impossible to endure any more of him inside me, I
felt his heavy balls slapping against my pussy as he stroked me and realized that he had finally managed to fit his entire cock inside me.
The sensation was indescribable, an almost out-of-body experience that caused a mammoth orgasm to rip through my entire body. My mouth opened wide, but no sound came out, and the tears flowed down my face to join the pool of sweat evaporating on the hood of the Mercedes. I blacked out for a few seconds, but came to my senses just in time to feel the thug’s cock throbbing inside of me, then a wet heat as he withdrew from my asshole, ripped the condom off and blasted a huge load of cum on my ass and back.
Depleted, I lay almost senseless on the car, my body shaking as the tears rolled softly down my face.
Minutes later I recovered enough to stand. I was sore and knew it was going to be much worse tomorrow, a painful reminder of my latest outing to el barrio. I got into the driver’s seat and started the car. The thug said something, but I tuned him out. He had served his purpose and I had no more use for him.
As I backed out of the alley, I pulled some bills from my purse and threw them out the window. I didn’t look back.
I was still naked but I didn’t care. My ass was sore but I didn’t care. My scalp tingled and ached where the thug had savagely pulled my hair. I didn’t care. I was numb. I drove like a robot, the smells of sex and new car mingled and the tears rolled down my face all the way home.
