Mrs. Sanchez

Luckily, when my wife found a well paying job we found a wonderful woman that “watched” children in her home on a quiet cul de sac. I say watched rather than operated a daycare because in this city you need a license to do the latter. Mrs. Sanchez didn’t want or need a license. We live two blocks from her home, on the edge of the area of the city where the markets become mercados. I normally pick my son up in the late afternoon on my way home from my job as a pastry cook in Julienne’s Bakery and Treats.

“Brian, your dad is here,” Connie called out when I walked through the door.

“Daddy!” Brian ran to me, his four year old legs springing him into my arms.

“Hey, Tiger, how was your day?” I love best, the hugs my son gives me. There is a point in one’s life where people stop hugging with their heart. I dread the day when that happens to him.

Connie stood their watching us, her brown eyes smiling, her hand covering her mouth. I noticed one day that one of her front teeth was chipped. Something that must have happened years ago because it did not seem to hurt her, merely make her self-conscious. For all her shyness she was not an unattractive young woman. Black hair cut stylishly below her ears, large lovely brown eyes, full bodied but not in an unappealing way.

Her elder version came around the corner in a swirl of floral skirt concealing lively wide hips. Mrs. Sanchez was a few inches over 5 feet but not much, with full breasts the size of ripe honeydew melons. Her lustrous hair was always done in a thick ebony rope of a French braid. She greeted me warmly, shaking my hand.

“I always enjoy seeing you, Mr. Jakes. You fill the house with the smell of fresh bread and cakes.”

“It’s good that I am not a pig farmer or I would fill the house with the scent of swine and you would not like me so well,” I said.

“Es verdad,” she laughed out loud. Connie faded back to the group of children playing in the den. “Can I ask of you a favor, Mr. Jakes?

“Certainly,” I let Brian down to get his shoes from the line of children’s shoes against the wall.

“I am putting boxes on shelves in the bathroom and I cannot reach. If you would not mind.”

“Not a problem.” I followed her wide swinging hips through the living room as she took Brian by the hand and led him back to the group of children. Then I followed her to the back of the house where we went through the laundry room into a large bathroom. There was a long mirror over the sink counter that covered one wall. Boxes were stacked at the far end of the bathroom. I rolled up my sleeves and under her direction commenced shelving the cardboard boxes.

“These are all things that my sister Maria sent me from Los Angeles. My mother died last month, as you know.”

“Yes, I am sorry for your loss. My mother died three years ago and I still miss her,” I touched her elbow, one motherless child to another, even though we were adults.

“You are a good man, Mr. Jakes.” She brushed her own hand over mine. “Strong too,” she laughed grasping my bicep. To which I replied by flexing my muscles.

“Grr, a real he-man,” I laughed, which started her laughing as well. There we stood, laughing, sharing a moment alone. Our reflection in the wall length mirror made it a party of laughing men and women. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Umm yes there is. But I do not know how to ask this of you.”

“Well, the only thing to do is come right out and ask. We’ve known you for a year now. You have taken excellent care of my son. What can I help you with?” I was wondering if she was going to ask for a loan or an increase in here fee.

“You are a handsome man, Mr. Jakes and well,” she looked me over carefully, “I can see that you are a well endowed man. I would like to know if you would help me by fucking me in the ass.”

To say my jaw dropped, would be an understatement. But one part of me that did not drop was my cock. It steadily rose, which caused her to smile with a promise of wickedness. She gave my hardening shaft a squeeze through my pants and hurried through the door. Quickly reappearing, she locked the door.

“I told Connie that you were helping me with the leak in the sink and to keep the children occupied.” She locked the door.

“Mrs. Sanchez,” I stammered, “Despite my dick’s response I did not say that I would do this.”

“Oh, I am terribly sorry. You are a married man after all.” She blushed mightily and turned to unlock the door.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t either,” I laid my hand on her ample butt and laughed.

“Es verdad. Do you need to see the merchandise first, senor Jakes?” She turned to face the mirror. Smiling back at my reflection she slowly raised the back of her skirt.

From somewhere I had picked up a frog and it was now stuck in my throat, as I followed the direction of my pointing cock. It hurt keeping it confined to my pants. Naturally I opened them and allowed it to bounce around freely. Like a compass needle it pointed straight at Mrs. Sanchez smooth round ass that reminded me of nothing as much as it did a Beefeater Tomato. It was so large firm and ripe for the picking.

“Do you like?”

“Very much,” I knelt behind her, my hands stroking up the inside of her satiny legs, and curving over her ass. She gathered her skirt in front of her and bent over the counter, thrusting her ass at my face.

Heat and the scent of her pussy rolled over my face in an orgiastic wave. I cupped her cunt and stroked her slowly as she sighed. Her legs open wider and I slid my other hand inside the crack of her ass. She backed up to meet me. I found my face buried in one cheek, my tongue licking her. Sucking on the round firm flesh, my fingers found her not so secret opening.

“Use this,” she waved a tube of lube behind her. I laid it on her back, open her cheeks and buried my face between them. My tongue went wild licking the rim of her asshole, probing the delights of that gate. My hand grasped my cock hard, squeezing and stroking to the sounds of whispered Spanish. Her hips rolled, gently at first but with more agitation as my tongue slowly fucked her.

“More. More,” she complained. I stood up and squeezed lube on my cock then over her asshole, gently pushing some inside her. She was tight around my finger at first but she relaxed slowly. I could see her face in the mirror, eyes half open, pink tongue gliding over wet lips, her face deeply flushed.

I laid the head of my cock against her, guiding myself with one and grasping her hip with the other. I pressed forward, while she leaned back. My cock entered. I sighed. I don’t know what kind of sound she made but it made me want to fuck her all the more.

“Aie dios mia,” she began rocking back to me. Watching her in the mirror was almost better than actually being inside her. Seeing her with her eyes closed, neck straining as she tilted her head back sent a wave through my body and I began fucking her in earnest. She started moaning louder, opened her eyes, looked around and grabbed a washcloth to use as a gag. Then it was eyes closed, and she let loose moaning around the gag.

I grabbed the ebony rope of her hair and used that to pull her onto my raging cock. I watched her slide a hand between her legs. She started to slam back into me faster and harder so I wrapped her hair around my fist and pulled as I thrust for all I was worth.

I could feel lava rising up from my ankles and knew that when it reached my balls I would be done for but I didn’t care. I wanted, needed that explosion to burst forth from my body. I let go of her hair and sank my fingers into her fleshy hips. I rode the rising tide of lava up my legs, slamming into her ass, until it burst forth in a torrent through my cock. I bit my hand trying to keep from making more sound than the harsh breathing that was whip-lashing through my nose. She kept fucking me until I felt her shudder under me moments later. She collapsed on the counter, while I fell against the wall.

We cleaned up as quickly as we could recover. At the door she pulled my head down to her and kissed me very sweetly

“Thank you so very much, I needed that for so long.” She opened the door before I could respond. We went forth into the living room, where Brian pounced on me like Tigger.

What took you so long, Daddy? You were gone forever.”

I bent over, telling him that I was helping Mrs. Sanchez.

“Oh. Can we go now?”

“Say good-bye to everyone.” He ran and gave hugs to everyone there while I grasped Mrs. Sanchez’ hand, “thank you, too.”

We left and went to the ice cream shop bought two cones for us and a pint to bring home for my wife Sabrina.