Chiche in the MorningbyAJFaber©
Business is good, Sgt. Pole thought to himself as he woke up. And then he realized he was naked, alone, and in bed back at the penthouse. This was a problem, because he had clearly gone to bed with the Colombian woman the night before and she wasn't lying next to him right now.
Coffee had led to dinner, and dinner had led to drinks. Briefly, they discussed the cat fight on the stage. But that was just an ice breaker. They talked about her family. They talked about his good time in the Marines. School, music, places to go and things to see In Country. Somehow it came out that they were both single, hadn't found the right person, and were not in a hurry looking. It was obvious they were desperately horny, but no one would admit it. The conversation was easy. Chiche was actually very funny. She had quick comebacks that caught Sgt. Pole off guard. When she talked fast, he couldn't keep up with her Spanish accent, but it really didn't matter. He melted in her words, stared at her lips, and snuck glances at her figure when she went to the restroom. Half the time he didn't know what she was saying. Half the time he didn't care. He just wanted more of her.
Her cheek swelled up slightly, but it had no real effect on the evening. His cock swelled when she touched his forearm during dinner, and he had one goal that night.
She seemed interested. She fanned her eyelids, and thrust out her tits when he gave her the eye. He put his arm around her as they moved out of the restaurant, and she seemed to bend her body around his. Later, she leaned across the bar they were at and Sgt. Pole swore it was so she could tease him with her ass. She complimented his uniform, his taste, the confidence with which he carried himself.
Thank God for the Marines, he thought. Thank God for Crazy Uncle Joe. And thank God for the infinity pool. "You have to see the condo," he extolled to her. "There's this pool, nine stories up." She was game.
It took five minutes of skinny dipping and two minutes of groping in the water. The city burned brightly around them in the darkness. They made it to bed and set up camp. It was like two mongooses fighting in a sack. Exciting and dangerous and blistering. She came easily and coaxed him to completion. Then utter, restful bliss.
Sgt. Pole heard the toilet in the guest bathroom flush down the hall. In a minute Chiche was standing in the doorway. She was wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned, and nothing else. "Did you sleep well?" she asked padding into the bedroom.
"I did," he said smiling. His eyes devoured her, from her toes to her shoulder length dark hair. "You?"
"I woke up hungry," she said coming to the side of the bed. She was standing directly in front of him as he lay on his side. He had one arm crooked beneath a pillow. He looked up at her.
"I can make a mean omelet," he said trying to appease her.
"In a minute," she smiled down at him. She ran a slim hand through his hair, brushing at his bangs. She stroked his tattooed bicep and shoulder. " Tenia hambre...I'm hungry for something else."
He ran a hand along her bare hip, at the edge of the dress shirt. She shivered, and he liked the effect he had over her. She didn't move from the side of the bed, so he traced a finger along her hip bone, to the cleft below her left butt cheek. It was amazingly taunt, yet smooth and round. The finger galloped back along her pelvic bone, along her inner thigh, and back up her leg to her sex. She was bare except for a thin strip of bacon that made a nice landing strip to her clit. Her lips were closed, but when he pried them open they turned moist and warm.
"Tell me," he said.
She leaned over and kissed him. Chiche was a good kisser. Her tongue alternately darted into his mouth and danced along his lips. When he kissed her she purred. He tried to pull her onto his chest. Her legs straddled him and he felt moisture on his abs. He pulled her down to him and they kissed some more. He pecked kisses on her chin, and down to her chest. Her breasts were just the right combination of a perfect handful. She had dark pointed nipples.
She sucked in a sharp breath when he settled on the right one and began sucking like a newborn baby. She rubbed herself along his stomach, smearing herself all over him.
He went to her ears, her neck, and then they swapped. He felt her licking his jaw line, stroking his neck. She tongued his ear, and he groaned. It drove him wild. He was hard as rock. She said something in breathy Spanish that he guessed was her breakfast order. He figured he was the menu.
When he couldn't take it any more. He grabbed her roughly by the hips and pulled her waist towards his head. She resisted but couldn't fight his grip, and after all, what was the point? His hands fit perfectly on her hip bones. She wiggled and positioned herself above him, as he brought her pussy to his face. He was careful not touch her sex. He wanted to drive her crazy so he tongued one thigh and then the other. She moaned loudly, and so he stopped, just long enough to get his bearings.
He saw the spot he wanted while he was trying to avoid actually touching her lips. His cheek became wet when he used the tip of his tongue to ever so lightly lick the junction where her thigh met her public area. This was the good spot.
"Fuck, baybee," she said above him. He'd been her baby since the pool last night, and he kind of liked it. She arched against the headboard of the king bed, splayed open on his face.
He gave her his tongue and she opened up and settled onto him.
They both moaned. Her because he had pierced her pussy hole and she was now stuck on his tongue. Him because she was slightly sweet, slightly salty, and warm and inviting. He probed her for only a second and started then working her folds. Up one lip and then down the other, pressing against her slick track, all around her and over her, but never staying anywhere too long. Chiche had an amazing pussy and he ate her like a piece of fruit.
A hand came down and gripped his hair. He put his hands on her ass and showed her how to move against him. When she figured out she could control the where and the when, he just kept his head still and offered his tongue. He couldn't see anything but her caramel thighs and the pink. His hands fanned out across her backside, along her crack, up her spine and across her flanks until he lightly settled on her nipples beneath the open dress shirt. He was like a blind man, learning her sex manual by brail.
She fed him her pussy. She stroked herself along his face. She started shaking when he settled his tongue flat against her clit. She bucked her little bead on his tongue.
"Fuck," he breathed onto her. His warm breath made her shudder and she increased her pace. He teased her and backed off, tormented her and pushed on. She settled onto him, trying to recapture his tongue. He avoided her, as she rained down on him.
He had to laugh when she got frustrated so easily. Chiche stripped off the shirt and then put her hand on his forehead and pushed him into the pillow. In a second she had swung a leg over his head and repositioned herself so she was facing his cock. Her hands clutched his legs, and she settled back onto his tongue. He ate her clit and she immediately reached out and grabbed his meat. He wouldn't go back to her lips until she put the head in her mouth. And she wouldn't stroke him until he went back to tongue fucking her. Sgt. Pole liked to think he was teaching her to suck to get what she wanted. But in reality, who was to say who was eating who.
"Aye, baby—" she gasped taking him out of her mouth. It took only a second for her to start kissing his base while she fondled his balls. Because he was curious, he pulled her forward enough so he could see her puckered asshole. On the down stroke it winked.
"Babby..." She swallowed him whole and he nibbled on her bud. The bucking began anew, while he sucked her button, clutching her waist with arms that were almost crossed across her backside. She couldn't move. He sucked harder.
"I'm gonna cum..." she squeaked and popped him out of her mouth.
"Do it." She forgot about his dick completely and held him loosely in her hands. He held her down on his face and drove the point home. "Do it now."
"Oh my god..." She came in a slick mess of saliva and pussy juice, shaking on top of him, struggling to pull her vagina away from his lips.
Sgt. Pole gave her only a second to collect herself, while he pushed her towards the end of the bed and crawled onto his knees. She flopped over into her back and spread her legs. She felt her wetness with two fingers as she smiled up at him.
"I need that," she said reaching for his cock. He hadn't bothered with a condom the night before. He'd simply pulled out on the sheets. He was woefully unprepared as usual, but charged ahead anyway.
He teased her, then gave it to her. He was like a kid on a playground slide, riding all the way to the bottom. They kissed when he was seated. He fit perfectly inside her, and her legs closed around his back. The night before he had learned many things about her. She looked small and dainty, but she fucked like a muscled animal. She was demanding, yet wanting to be demanded. Half the time he felt he was fighting her. The other half, she was fighting him. Fighting for what he had no idea. Control? Maybe only the illusion.
He started moving in her. Now he was the beast. No one said anything for a long while. They watched each other in silence as he drove into her and she took it. Eyes locked in expectation. Mouths slack jawed. Kisses between thrusts.
For him it was a slow steady building. For her it was a crashing tidal wave.
"I'm gonna cum."
"Oh my God." She came briefly.
"Oh, please..." That voice she made urged him on. Last night he had screwed her repeatedly just to hear that voice.
He drove harder, pushing her legs in front of him. He could open her up like a gymnast or bend her in half like a fortune cookie. She didn't seem to care one way or the other. She just kept moaning. He was breathing heavily and starting to sweat. Her brow was furrowed as she fought for it. "I-I'm cumming again."
He ground into her. He heard squeaks and squeals, and then silence, and sucked air.
It took him two more strokes, and a third, with her legs shoved open in a leggy v-shape. He pulsed inside her. She stared at him. Her mouth was open. His orgasm poured up and through his shaft. He exhaled. "Fuuck mee."
They watched each other as he emptied himself. Each wondering what the other was thinking. And then he slipped out of her and fell onto his back while she lay opened and spent before him. Sgt. Pole was breathing heavy. He felt sleepy again. She played with her vulva while he tried to catch his breath. Sgt. Pole snaked a hand around her ankle, and tugged on her, wanting to hold her. She resisted, only long enough, so she could part her lips and show him his seed dripping onto the bed sheets.