Latina's Husband

Second Installment in the "Latina" Series of Erotic Tales

I am lucky enough to be married to the passionate Mexican lady whose story, "Latina," is the first story in this series. After telling her story, she thought I should tell you about our first time from the male perspective. As my wife has taken on the pen name Latina after her Mexican-American heritage, I have chosen the pen name Frank for myself, because this name shares both its first and last letter with the first and last letter of one of our favorite indoor (and outdoor) activities, as you will see from my story.

I have not always been as lucky in relationships as I am in my marriage. Although I am reasonably good looking, I do not fit the Hollywood image of a hunk. But I have something better going for me: I really care about the women in my relationships.

To hear the media tell it, every woman wants a committed relationship, and every man is scared of commitment. I can't speak for other men, but in past relationships, the opposite was true. Like the girl in high school who invited me to a dance, then showed up with another date. Or the coed I fell in love with in college, who began drinking and became abusive after her grandfather died. Or the coworker who was afraid of commitment because her ex-husband had dumped her for his secretary.

It is supposed to be every man's dream to date a model type. Well, I tried that once, too. This woman was tall, very nicely proportioned, with the reddest and most inviting lips, and gorgeous hair you just wanted to run your fingers through. She could easily have leaped out of the pages of any glamorous magazine. And I'll admit, at first, it was exciting to have a "trophy date" to show off. But after two or three dates, I realized that this was all she was, a trophy, all golden and shiny facade on the outside, but cheap, hollow, and plastic inside.

I would try to engage her in intelligent conversation about her personal philosophies in life, or about current events in the news. But she did not watch TV news or listen to news radio, much less ever read a newspaper. She would always turn the conversation to her hair, makeup, and clothing, the only topics she seemed to know anything about. She would never offer to share the expenses of our dates, and she had expensive tastes, so it started to feel like she was a gold-digger. The trouble was, although I am solidly middle-class, I didn't and don't have much gold for a woman to dig. And although she LOOKED like a model, she didn't have the confident air of success nor the refinement one usually associates with glamorous women.

I started to realize that her shimmering hair came from a shampoo bottle, and her red lips from a cosmetics tube, and there wasn't much of a real person underneath those cosmetic enhancements. She would spend much of our date criticizing my appearance and my personality, and she would even hand me written lists of things she wanted me to change about myself, such as dying my hair blond, covering my small bald spot with a toupee, and talking like a California surfer dude, which she found sexy. Rather than becoming interested in who I was, or finding a man who fit her image, she wanted to change me into her image of the ideal man. She would rant and ramble on like this until I was completely turned-off by her, and then at the end of our dates, she'd try to put the romantic moves on me, by which time I simply wasn't interested. After a few such dates, I wanted to scream from the sheer boredom of it all! I couldn't even stand to face her in person one last time, and I took the cowardly way out by breaking-up with her over the phone and hanging up.

I was raised to believe that sex is better in a caring, committed relationship. So as corny as it may sound, I saved myself for marriage. Sure, some relationships had involved heavy petting and oral sex (usually me eating her out, which I have always loved to do, although it was sometimes reciprocal). But without the deep caring for each other, these actions seemed somehow empty. And I had never yet "gone all the way" to intercourse.

After these experiences, I joined a dating service. There, you can read a written profile of the person's background and interests, and view a video interview, to see if there is something of interest BEFORE you start dating. Much more effective than pick-ups at a bar or a community dance. And the membership cost was high enough that only those seriously looking for a long-term, committed relationship would pay the fees.

After two years in this dating service, I had met some interesting prospects, but I had also been turned down for a lot of dates. I attended a seminar about defining what you MUST have, would LIKE TO have, and absolutely will NOT accept, in a relationship. After that seminar, I realized I had been willing to accept a lot of losers just to have female companionship, and I then wrote down my rules. I decided to become much more selective.

At that time, I was just starting to date a Filipino nurse who was short, dark complexion, looked terrific in tight shorts (which she wore often). She was highly intelligent, and we had great conversations. She knew exactly how to talk very sexy. She would call me up and say she was lying in bed wishing I were there beside her, naked, warm, and loving in her arms. But when we were together, she wouldn't even let me kiss her, and we never got beyond her removing those tight shorts to teasingly show me her skimpy panties (she was strictly look but don't touch).

Sometimes she told me that she wanted to get closer, and at other times she said she was scared to enter a committed relationship. She drove me CRAZY with this, and after that seminar, I realized that once more I had been settling for SO much less than I wanted, needed, and deserved. I asked her flat out to decide whether or not she wanted a relationship with ANY man, and whether she wanted a relationship with me. When she couldn't decide yes or no on either question, I told her I wanted a long-term, serious, committed relationship, and I wasn't going to wait for her to decide whether that was what she wanted, too. So I split up with her, and I decided to continue the search for my life partner, my soulmate.

Soon after this seminar and this break-up, I read "Latina's" profile. We share an interest in history, and in ballroom dancing. We were both adoptive single parents (I had adopted my brother's daughter, and she had adopted a child during her first marriage). We spoke on the phone all night every night, about each other's philosophies, raising children, our childhood, past relationships, our jobs, anything and everything. I found her to be smart, charming, and funny, and a very compatible personality to my own. She seemed to be a very open and giving personality, yet she told me that when someone crossed her, she would and did "chew them up and spit them out". This sounded terrific to me: warm, loving, and giving when it was reciprocal, and able to stand up for himself and not get pushed around by life and the jerks so often encountered in life.

I liked that she took a genuine interest in what I had to say, and I enjoyed listening to every detail of what she told me about herself and her life. I found myself racing home from work every evening, because I could hardly wait to get home and start one of our all-night conversations. Talking with her was the highlight of my day each and every day. I had never felt this strongly about a woman before, and we had yet to meet in person! After two months of this, we finally did meet in person, and by then it was as if we had known each other all our lives.

For our first date, Latina invited me and my niece (whom I had adopted as my daughter), to meet her at a park with a swimming pool. I had looked-up a photo of her face at the dating service, so I would recognize her when we met. I recognized her leaning against a tree, with her dark and lovely legs stretched invitingly out in front of her, and reading a book. Her face was much prettier than in her photo. At 5'2" tall, her legs were not especially long, but they were sleek and slender, and her shorts and sandals nicely showed off the dark complexion of her well-sculpted legs and cute little feet. I really enjoyed looking down at her stretched out flat before me, wearing her skimpy shorts, form- fitting T-shirt, and very little else.

She was maybe 5 to 10 pound overweight, but I have always preferred that look to the rail-thin model type. I have always preferred brunettes to blondes, and the darker the hair, the better. My very first crush, at about the age of 10, was an Italian-American with nearly-black hair. My college girlfriend had long brown hair cascading halfway down her back. And now here was Latina, with nearly-black shoulder-length hair. All in all, I was pleasantly surprised by the beauty of her face and figure, and by the sexy skimpiness of the outfit she chose to wore on our very first date; without being trashy, it left little to the imagination (although my own, now-VERY active imagination, was easily picturing her lying against that very tree, wearing even less and showing me even more of her own obvious charms). I tried not to stare too blatantly as I stood before her and talked and imagined what was beneath her skimpy outfit.

I was even more stunned by her beauty when she stood up and we walked to a nearby bench, where we shared a picnic lunch. There was something absolutely mesmerizing about watching my brunette beauty, walking around the great outdoors in her skimpy shorts.

On our second date, Latina and I, my adopted daughter and her adopted son, plus one of my daughter's school friends, spent the day together at the beach. The kids went off exploring, while my date and I lay on the beach, talked, and gazed fondly at each other's stretched-out forms in our skimpy bathing suits.

My car's water pump broke coming back from the beach. I feared that I might be at the receiving end of the "chewing up and spitting out" she had described. But she stayed calm, didn't yell or blame for my car being unreliable, and worked with me to get us all safely home. After warning me not to read anything into it, she sat on my lap the whole 50 miles home in the tow truck. I fought hard to keep from thinking about the fact that only the thin fabric of her and my shorts separated my cock from the beautifully curvaceous ass now leaning against my love rod. It took every ounce of my willpower to focus on something else, anything else, so as not to gain an erection. I feared that if she felt my cock get hard against her butt, I would be embarrassed and she might be angry.

We took my car to her favorite repair shop, not far from where I stored the antique car I own. We walked to the storage garage I was renting, I picked up my antique car and drove her home in it. She genuinely seemed to enjoy the ride, and she later told me that she bragged about this ride to her co-workers. I liked that she was a woman who could share my interests, rather than trying to get me to give up my hobbies. I realized that i had found a very special lady, one who was as beautiful on the inside where it counts, as she was on the outside. Before I drove home from this second date, I kissed her to show her how much I was already starting to care about her. To my surprise and delight, she returned my passion and affection with some tongue play of her own, as she melted into my arms. I didn't sleep much that night, dreaming about her, about our budding romance, and about what I hoped was becoming a long-term committed relationship (OK, you're right, I admit it, I was also just too HORNY to sleep).

Our third date was dinner and a movie. I paid for dinner, and she paid for the movie. Unlike the model type I mentioned earlier, she did not expect me to pay for everything all the time. She genuinely wanted to be a full and equal contributing partner in this relationship. I admired and respected her for this, because I have long felt that a good and successful relationship was about give- and-take, not all giving or all taking. At the restaurant, I was pleased to discover that she enjoyed many of the same foods as I did. Later, at the theatre, she even laughed and cried at the same parts of the movie as I did. By the end of the evening, I was feeling pretty close to her, a real soul connection. I was sorry to see the date end, but I knew that we were both starting to like each other enough, that there would definitely be more dates.

What I did not know at the end of that third date, was that our very next date would culminate in my losing my 40-year-old virginity to her, after saving myself for marriage all those years. I hate that term, LOSING your virginity; I don't feel that I lost anything that evening, but I gained a loving, caring, trusting, passionate, safe, compatible, comfortable, deeply-committed, and sexually-charged relationship with my true soulmate and life partner. No, there was definitely no sense of LOSS about it!

I was 40, and she 45, at that time. We had been out dancing that Friday night, and then we went to my house (her idea), to talk more, as we had on the phone on so many nights before. We sat on my couch and talked, while soft, soothing, mellow jazz played quietly on my stereo.

I don't recall who kissed whom first that night, but soon we moved beyond kissing, when she slowly, invitingly, seductively unbuttoned her sheer, silky- white and ruffled-lace blouse, and I began kissing, licking, and nibbling her beautiful 38-C breasts. I think that areolas, that dark area around the nipples, are very beautiful and sexy, and hers were very dark and very wide, just how I always dreamed they would be on my one true love in my life. As I licked, sucked, and gently nibbled, I discovered that her areolas were every bit as sensitive as her thick, hard nipples. I could tell that throughout our relationship, we were both going to enjoy a lot of my attention on her beautiful, shapely, and oh-so- sensitive breasts. I loved the sexy, feminine way her shapely body squirmed and writhed in delighted response to my attentions on her sensitive chest area.

She muttered something about it not being fair that I had her breasts exposed but I had yet to show her MY chest. With that, she unbuttoned and removed my shirt in near-record time.

After she removed my shirt, I couldn't wait to play with her pussy. I wanted to experience her innermost secret pleasure spots with my fingers and my tongue. But before I could remove her skirt, we led each other to my bedroom. I hesitated for only a moment: I had never gone all the way with a woman before. But I already felt that this was THE right relationship, the one I had been seeking all of my adult life, and for the first time in my life, I knew that I had found the woman with whom I wanted to share EVERYTHING, including intimacy. I relaxed and started to enjoy the moment.

She eased her half-naked body face-up atop my queen-size bed, wearing only her stockings, garters, and tiny panties. She gave me the most incredible, beautiful, smoldering look of desire as she stretched so sexily before me.

With her knees raised and her beautiful dark legs spread wide, I eased her silky black panties down her dark legs. With only her stockings and garters on now, I began playing with her thick triangle of brown hair. The woman I was falling so deeply and completely in love and lust with, now looked so cute and sexy, so downright irresistible lying naked on my bed, that any lingering reservations I might have still had about going all the way with her, now completely vanished. All I could think about now was how much I wanted to lovingly and selflessly give her the most exquisite pleasures possible. We already knew we were soulmates mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and philosophicaly, now I wanted to prove myself to be sexually worthy of this amazing and stunning Latina's love, too.

I slowly, gently, and eagerly slid my middle finger deep inside her, enjoying the feeling of the moisture already oozing along her inner walls as her hips slowly rocked up-and-down and side-to-side on the mattress. I was impressed that her little clit was already starting to arise out of hiding, and became very long and hard. To me, this meant that our soul connection extended to our sexual instincts as well, and that she had a tremendous capacity for sexual enjoyment. I loved feeling her hardening clit's excited and gently-throbbing pulsations against the underside of my knuckle, as my finger continued sliding in and out of her moist, juicy slit. Although this was my first time, I was not really nervous, maybe a little anxious that I would please her enough, but mostly just so full of love for this woman that I seemed to instinctively know just where to touch her. As her moans grew louder and her gyrations more frequent and frenzied, she began to beg me to lick her. On about her third such request, I decided to do as she asked.

My tongue slowly licked the outside of her pussy, then as my fingers held her lower lips open, I plunged my tongue deep inside, and I tasted the moistness lining her walls.

Soon, I focused my tongue and teeth on her pretty little love button, and I was rewarded with the most sumptuous taste of her sweet, heavenly nectar. In my humble opinion, there is simply no better or more-thrilling view than looking up into the wide-open pussy of the woman you love as it oozes sweet, creamy beads of love juice onto your tongue, up into your mouth, and down your throat, as she thrashes, moans, pants heavily, and screams in one orgasmic burst after another.

After she calmed down, she rolled me onto my back, and she began softly nibbling on my chest. Nobody had ever done that for me before, and I had no idea that a man's nipples could be as sensitive as a woman's. But in response to her nibbles on my chest, my rod was growing longer, thicker, and harder, and I was bucking my hips up and down with the pleasure of her kisses and nibbles on my chest.

Now she started kissing and licking her way down my body, stopping for a while to concentrate on my belly button, while my by-now-ACHING cock pulsed and throbbed just inches from her sweet, angelic face. I guess watching my cock throbbing at her, horny for her, proved too much of an irresistible temptation to her now, as she leaned over me and softly, sweetly kissed the very tip of my madly-gyrating cock. She then spent what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds, in exquisitely kissing and licking my swollen balls, before beginning the most amazingly-pleasurable slow, slow lick up my thick, hard shaft.

After kissing and licking my cock head with a great deal of loving attention, she slowly began to work my full 8 inches into her eager mouth. Once it was all the way in, she began moving her tongue around it while it was fully buried in her mouth, while gently cupping my balls in her palm. Her licking and sucking was so leisurely and comfortable, and she seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was.

I was about to come, but I really wanted it in her sweet pussy, not in her mouth. So just as I began a powerful, blasting explosion into her mouth, I pushed her away and stopped her sucking. I then rolled her onto her back, and I slowly sank my still-exploding shaft deep into her moistness. The tip was barely in when she started to moan, and by the time I was thrusting in and out of her, we were both crazy with desire. I had cut off my explosion in mid-orgasm, and that made me even harder and hornier, and I didn't mind at all when she moaned for me to stuff her completely full of cock. Her pussy was very slick and moist, and very tight, and as I thrust, I really did feel myself filling her up completely. My sweet, sexy Latina later told me that she felt that my cock had been custom-made to perfectly fit her grasping, squeezing pussy lips.