Barry's Latin Bride Ch. 01bysailorstroke©
Plot: How an older swinging couple corrupt a younger couple that move in next door, as told in the words of each. Interracial, voyeuristic, swinger, mildly non-consensual. A sexually repressed, naive young Catholic woman is trained/converted into a wanton slut.
* Gordon, pale Anglo, age 38, twice divorced and now with his third wife. A welder and former sailor. Five children, all living with his two previous wives.
* Sylkie, a mulatto (half black, half white), age 31, a tavern waitress. No children, but she's had two abortions and one miscarriage. Gordon's wife for the last three years.
* Barry, age 23, an auto parts store counter sales rep. A repressed voyeur, has had sexual relationships with seven women prior to marrying his wife, Conchita.
* Conchita, age 20, a hotel front desk customer service rep. Married to Barry for 16 months when story begins.
He is the only man who she's ever had sex with. She comes from a politically middle of the road, Catholic family.
Rick, age 22, the hotel bellman
Alex, age 24, the hotel valet
Hector, age 29, Conchita's co-worker at the front desk
I'm a hound, okay! But Conchita didn't end up the way she did just because of me. Believe me, her husband puts on a good respectable citizen front, but he's a sick fuck bastard in his own way.
Barry and Conchita moved in next door two years ago tomorrow. I remember because it was the day before July the 4th, right where we're back to now. First time I see her, I'm telling myself, "Damn! That is one hot Mexican girl. I gots to try out her honey hole."
So I'm giving her the eye every time I see her, which ain't often. She works nights at some hotel, I work days in a fence assembly plant, welding flat bar steel.
But I talk her up, try to engage her in conversation. And I push my wife, Sylkie, for information. You should know right off, Sylkie's a cocksucking skank from way back. That's why I married her, because she's got a appetite stronger for sex then even I do. We got a rule in our marriage: "There ain't no rule about fucking."
Sylkie's not impressed with that girl Conchita. She tells me Conchita gets uncomfortable around her. They'll talk small talk pretty regular about the neighborhood, whatever. But when Sylkie steers the subject to husbands and sex, Conchita gets quiet and coughs out excuses about how she's got work to do.
I made more progress with Barry. He's neighborly and he likes to look at Sylkie. My wife is on the skinny side. She's a caramel belle, broadnosed, fat-lipped woman with a 5-foot, 6-inch frame. She's 120 pounds, which ain't much on that kind of height. Small tits, 30-A cup, a 28 waist and bottoming out with those 34 hips.
Sylkie started learning about sex when she was 13 and got rolled into a gang in her old neighborhood. She briefly prostituted in her late teens, but tells me she gave it up because it was beginning to feel too much like work. Yeah, my Sylkie loves a good fuck.
It took me all of three weeks to get Barry to come visit. He'd sit with us and have some beers. Sylkie was always walking around inside the house in her underwear - thong panties and a skimply little see-through top, usually. Just being her usual slutty self.
I let Barry's mind at ease, told him he could look all he wanted. He could even touch if he wanted. At first, he was alarmed. You could tell. It caught him off-guard, took his brain some time to wrap around that one.
But a few more weeks of him dropping by in the evenings, to drink, while his wife was out working, helped change his attitude.
Once I let it sink in, ( Gordon was "inviting me" to fuck his wife! ), I couldn't stop thinking about it. Oh, I told him up front I was happily married. And I thought it was. But still - knowing there was this hot slut next door, waiting for me, even expecting me to shove my hot, hard 7 inches of joystick into her wet, sweet pussy - how do you erase that image?
Mind you, Conchita is the hotter woman to look at. She's younger, prettier, has a better figure. I mean my wife "looks" hot. She's all of 5 feet, 4 inches, and curves! She's a 38-C - we're talking hooters that beg to be tit-fucked with puking pythons! - a 32 waist and 38-inches around that fine circumference of light brown latin ass!
What a fine ass. It slants out there and defies gravity. It's got a hypnotic sway that makes a man go BOING! But does she use it to its full potential? No! Hell, no.
It was so disappointing, our wedding night. I'd been with girls that suck cock, swallow cum, girls that beg for it up the ass. And my favorite, girls that will strip and dance and flash tits and pussy, even in public places. I just love voyeuristic situations. More than anything, I wanted my wife to dress slutty in public. I wanted to see her going down some other guy while I jacked off on her back. Better yet, see her suck three or four men while she's straddled on top of some guy humping like a girl on a pony ride. That's the kind of sick fantasy I keep playing out in my head.
Conchita was none of that. She liked fucking, in the missionary position. That was it. Wouldn't suck cock, wouldn't tolerate sodomy (Hey, I tried. She was furious with me.)
So there's Sylkie, and I'm sitting on the sofa, been taking her merciless, exhibitionist teasing for five freaking weeks, and her husband says, "I'm going out for some more beer, Barry. You want anything?" I smile and put my hand on his barely dressed wife's thigh and smile. He laughs and winks at me and leaves.
Barry's cute. I mean, Gordon is my man and he's better in bed. I didn't expect any miracles with Barry, but baby, he was fresh meat and young and cute and I been playing him long enough. He shoulda taken care of the situation weeks before he did but he's a cautious man. So many cautious mans is in this world! -----------------------
"Barry, I think you thinking it's time we gets to know each other better, hmmm? Am I right?"
He looked intently at her legs, eyes roving up her skin to her eyes, "Heh, heh, yeah." Nodding into her, slightly drunk, he traced his finger up her thigh and rubbed his growing cock with his right hand.
A male index finger tugged at the blood red thong to reveal a patch of vulva. "MMmm, pussy."
"Yeah, baby. That's my pussy. You wanna stick yo finger up in my snatch, Barry? Go on, baby, finger my slit, it's all ready for you."
Barry giggled and, face etched with lascivious intent, jammed his finger into the hot box as Sylkie, as if a machine obediently opening to the push of a button, swing her legs wide. Sylkie reached across and expertly flipped open Barry's belt buckle, snapping open his pants and purring to the sound made by his zipper coming undone. Her pussying alternately clamped onto his two fingers, her mouth arching open with lewd joy.
"Uh huh, baby. Sssssssssssssssss, work it, Barry. Mmm, thazzzzzz it, get my hole all sticky for yo big dicky!"
"Sylkie, you such a hot bitch," Barry said as his right hand and Sylkie's left hand shared the task of massaging his cock, their fingers intertwined around its stiffening girth.
He hooked his fingers deep inside Sylkie, pressing at her G spot, tugging at her, as if pulling in a fish.
"Come here, slut. Get that hole over my lap and stick your hot hole on my hard cock, bitch!"
"Oh, baby, oh yeah. I wanted that dick for a while now. MMmm."
She stretched over him, easing herself down, quickly opening her mucousy pink chamber with the shaft of the husband of the latin lady next door, the latin girl who was busy checking in guests at a hotel 14 miles away. "Heh, heh," Sylkie mumbled.
Her hip-rocking fuck motion thrilled Barry almost to a point beyond his control. He momentarily feared getting too excited. But Sylkie's motion was smooth, experienced. She was controlled and a thoroughly enjoyable fuck, obviously in no hurry to finish him soon.
"Heeeeeee eee - yahhhhhh!" Barry exulted. "Fuck-in-yeah. You know a lot more about pleasing a man than my lame-oh wife, Sylkie. Ohhhhhh, you're a fine ass fuck, slut!"
Sylkie heaved her chest out and pressed a nipple into Barry's face. "Shut up and suck it, boy!"
It all became one thing then. Sucking, fucking, rocking, nibbling, tongues lashing, kissing, flesh-on-flesh rubbing, sweating, sluts grunting, grinning, spit preceeding nasty curses, hearts beating, the anger of lust unleashed, two strong wills, their passions inflamed, trying to outdo the other, fueling the fires, reaching toward the all-consuming moment.
"Cum on, baby," Barry coaxed. "That all you got, slut? Fuck faster! Move your fucking body, bitch. Fuck! Fucking move! Work that pussy, you hot horny slut! You want my cum to go off up in you or not, whore!"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yessssssss!" moaned that delirious, fuck-frenzied Sylkie. "Uhhhhh, uhhhh, shit," her body and shaking, driving, flesh-slapping contorted undone spectacle of sexual madness.
"Jam the joystick up your hole, bitch. I'm so close. Yesssssss. Fuck on that cock, bitch!"
Sylkie's spasmodic wave came. She fucked on, her breathing getting ragged, his cock still hard, his cock so good, so very good, her pussy loving the constant, tortious friction. And then another spasm of boiling insanity, and another!
"Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhh goddamm! Oh, oh, OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Barry sensing his own moment, slapped her ass with all his might. "Shake that body, whore! Fucking move it up and down now. NOWW!"
She sped up, up to her physical limit. Her pace like a racing piston chamber on a human piston. He spurted semen at her cervix with a grunt, "FuGGGGGG! ... Un! ... Un, ohhhhhhhhh ... bitch!"
They rested on each other, Sylkie satisfied, Barry in a haze of spent emotion.
I see very early that I am not like my neighbors. This Gordon, he is look at my breast, he is look at my behind. He is touching himself between his legs when I am in backyard and he is on his back porch. He come over to fence and say to me, "Ay! You so sexy, neighbor. Come here and talk to me. Hey, baby, you papa ain't home. Let's us have some fun!"
He is show me no respect. He is pig!
And his wife! What kind person is this, she is always try talking, talking to me about how good her husband is to fucking. She talk like that - "fucking, fucking, fucking." She is bad words use it all the time. She is of no morals.
She is 'zorra,' a skunk. This what men of my culture would say. She is 'zorra.' We call like this the woman like her his fuck so much she is have the wide stripe of the white semen painted from the crack of her nasty, stinking behind to the top of her stupid head!
And Barry! What is happening these months, I don't like. He is idiota! I tell him, "Don't be friendly with them. They are bad people."
Still, he visits. He say to me, "They are my friend. They are not like you think."
What can I think? He come from there, he is smell of alcohol. They drink, they drink more. We have fight.
You were there again. You stink. You smell of alcohol. Don't touch me! No, don't touch me! What kind of husband you think you are. I tell you to no go there. You go there. You can have sex with your hand and your beer bottle. Go! Get out the bedroom. You sleep on the sofa.
So after Barry started fucking my wife, I laid it out for him. Barry, you holding out on me. That Conchita sure is a fine piece of ass. He says, "Shit, Gordon. You don't know what you're asking for. If you think you can get in her drawers, you go right ahead. But she's not much in bed. I been trying to loosen her up, but she's a fucking bitch. And I don't mean that in a good way."
I smiled, told Barry don't you worry. If I've got your permission, I'll see if we can get her an attitude adjustment.
So I called up the hotel where she works and booked myself a room for a weekend two weeks off. Then me and Barry had us a talk. I said, "Barry, I got a plan."