Page 59 of Mile High Salvation


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“Fucking hot,” someone whispers in my ear.

I turn to see a guy about my age smiling at me. He’s got warm brown eyes and full lips that immediately draw my attention. He looks dapper in a black suit and gold-colored tie.

“Christa,” I introduce, my hand out.

“Rafael,” he responds. “Eras tan hermosa.”

My lips tip up at his compliment that he thinks I’m beautiful, and I respond to let him know I appreciate him. “Gracias, guapo.”

My Spanish sucks, my dad opting not to teach us to be fluent, but I took a few years in high school to learn the basics.

“You want to be fucked like that?” he asks, jutting his chin at the throuple.

I shrug and purse my lips. “I wouldn’t mind giving it a try.”

He runs his hand along my waist and down to my ass. “And I wouldn’t mind fucking your juicy pussy and ass.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Rafael spins me around and pulls me flush to him. “Yes, gorgeous. I’d love to taste every inch.” He runs his nose up my neck and then plants a small kiss at the base of my ear.

I stiffen at the use of the word “gorgeous” and pull away. Only one man gets to call me that—even if that man doesn’t want me.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Rafael asks.

“I... I need to go.”

I suddenly want to hide. I look at the area where the viewing rooms are, but decide to hit the gas tonight. I walk quickly to the DR rooms and ask the attendant which rooms are available.

“Single males in rooms three, ten, and thirteen. Single females in rooms two and seven.”

“Thanks.”

I slip into room three and am greeted by a man wearing a full hood over his face—like an executioner. I hear him gasp audibly when I enter the room and grin. I just need to get fucked. The room is dark, save for a small red light in the corner that allows me to see his hood. The rest of his body is obscured by the covers of the black sheets he hides under.

He whips the covers back and growls, “Get in here.”

I obey, crawling on top of him. I kiss his neck and his smell seems familiar. I die all over inside when I realize he wears the same cologne as Eric. I watch as he takes a remote and clicks off the red light—the only source of illumination—and we’re plunged into pitch-black darkness.

It’s better this way,I tell myself.

“Ride me,” he demands in a low voice, almost a whisper, as he shoves my dress up and groans when he feels I have no panties on. I hadn’t worn any. Why bother?

“Fuck,” he murmurs, sliding his thick finger along my slit. I shudder as I’m aroused by what he’s doing.

I feel his rock-hard dick underneath me, and I moan when he pulls my dress up higher to expose my braless tits. He twirls his fingers along my right one, flicking the piercing.

“Yes, pinch them,” I whimper, sliding along his hard length while his other hand plays with my clit. “Make me come, Daddy.”

I use the terminology I heard the couple I watched the last time I was here.

The guy freezes his ministrations. “Daddy?” he whispers.

“Yes,” I reply quickly. “Make me come, Daddy, please. Then you can fuck my pussy so hard.”

His fingers move quickly while I slide along his dick that lays against his stomach. My fists try to grab bunches of his chest as I get close to climax, but it’s so firm, I fail.

Faster and faster he swirls his finger on my clit.

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