Rosa'a New Life

Hello, my name is Cleo and I'm a sex relationships councilor. If you type the name "Cleo" into the search engine of this site you will see several case studies I've reported on earlier. I've received numerous positive responses on my series called Awakenings 1 thru 5, Betrayal 1 thru 4, and I watched My Wife With An Older Man 1 thru 4.

I only write about the cases my patients give me permission to do. I tell them what this site is all about and stress that in order for their story to gain attention, it has to be true and be told in the naughtiest, most detailed manner possible. Why "naughtiest"? Because that is what apparently holds this audience's interest.

My clients must agree to these conditions and sign a consent form first. I tape their story just as they tell it and then try to write it correctly. I cannot validate every detail in each story is absolutely true, but based upon our numerous therapy sessions I believe they are very close to being accurate. Even if their story is not entirely true, there is much to be gained from it because it is their fantasy and therefore important to my understanding their problem.

The following case study is an unusual one. It's about a young woman named Rosa who completely changed her life, and maybe not for the better. She continues trying to adjust. As with all my clients in all the stories presented here, any interested persons can contact Rosa by including her name in the subject box and sending mail to my mail box here, and I will forward them on to her.

She has read this narrative and with only minor changes, has approved it for my use and possible publication. Although I suspect Rosa may have exaggerated some aspects of her story, this is as near to stating her experiences, as possible:

This is Rosa's Story:

I'm a 26 year-old married woman and my life has turned out in a very different way than I could ever imagine. My first name is Rosa – my last name is unimportant. I have long dark brown hair, gray eyes and been blessed with a beautiful creamy skin thanks to my heritage. I am small and slender, have slightly above average breasts that don't sag, and have been told all my life that I am very pretty.

I'm a Mexican Nationalist who is a naturalized US citizen. My husband was born in Arizona. His parents are first generation US citizens from the southern region of Mexico. I tell you this because attitude concerning sex and marriage among the Mexican community is much different than it is with other U.S ethnic groups.

My husband is a mason by trade; working with concrete, pavers or anything stone, he is a master craftsman. He makes a good living and we own an older style very modest house in the suburbs, in a nice quiet neighborhood. Every month, we send money to his grandparents back in Mexico; therefore, things are tight for us at the end of each month. I work part time for a wealthy retired businessman who lives in a large estate about a mile from our house. Most Mexican men frown upon their wives working, but as I said, things are tight for us financially.

My employer of one year, Mr. Diaz, is probably in his late fifties or early sixties. I say probably because it's difficult to tell precisely. He plays tennis and golf, and appears to be in good physical condition. His black hair is still thick and bushy, but has some gray at the temples. I'd say that when he was young, he was a handsome man. He had never been anything but a gentleman around me until a couple months ago. From the first day I went to work for him I could see Mr. Diaz's wife Mary, was very ill. Over the last six or eight months, she became bed-ridden, and gradually weaker. She seldom leaves her bed now.

The only other person living on the premises is Tito, who came to Arizona on a work permit from Nogales. He's the gardener and handyman, and drives Mr. Diaz sometimes. Tito lives in a small basement apartment and I seldom see him. When I do, he gives me the creeps the way he stares at me. On more than one occasion he plainly had an erection as he watched me work around the large house, once even rubbing it through his trousers while watching me.

Tito has never attempted to hide his lewd actions from me. He looks like a fat, ugly troll with way-too-long hairy arms. He shaves his over-sized head and his ears stick out, too. I hate him. He wears one of those "wife-beater" undershirts that some Mexican men favor and it's always dirty, his belly bulging beneath it, hanging over his belt. I always feel like I need a bath after being near him.

Except for playing something akin to what Americans call "post office" with a neighborhood boy when I was nine or ten, my husband is the only man I've ever slept with. He travels to jobs all over the state and I suspect he has slept with other women when he's away. What Mexican man hasn't? As for me, sex is okay, but I don't need it so much that I'd cheat on him. Once a week sex, or maybe even ten days, is fine with me. When I do climax, it's only like a small firecracker going off, and then it's gone.

Most times I don't even do that. About six months ago our sex-life dried up to about once a month and I did miss it a little, mostly the cuddling afterward. It seemed he was always "too tired", or he had to "get up early", or he'd just jump on, bang away and climax, hopping off before I even finished. I always think of it as "rabbit sex." But that's what husbands do sometimes, so I could live with that.

A couple months ago I was dusting the furniture at work and walked into Mister Diaz's office unaware he was even there. He was at his desk, doing whatever rich men do with paperwork. He looked up and smiled as I entered.

"Rosa! How nice! Just when I needed help, too. Come," he said pushing a footstool over for me to sit beside him. Beside it, he placed a cardboard file box. "When I say a name, look through this index and find the file for me."

I dropped down on the footstool and we'd only gone through about a dozen names, when things got really weird. I glanced up to find Mr. Diaz had turned his chair toward me and pulled down his sweat pants, his genitals swinging right in front of my face. Stunned, I froze with my hand outstretched holding a file, unbelieving of what I was seeing. He suddenly grasped my wrist with his left hand, taking the file from me with his right.

As I said, I simply froze – like a rabbit confronted by a deadly snake. Most Mexican women are not prudes, so I suppose I was also gasping at his manhood. My husband's cock is average sized, about five inches long – maybe even six on a good day. This one was easily twice that size, thick and meaty as my wrist.

His sacs looked like oranges! Altogether, it was very intimidating. I suddenly became aware that he was pushing my hand downward toward that enormous thing. With my body turned the way I was setting, the pressure on my wrist kept me from even rising to my feet.

"What . . .?"

"Be quiet."

"Mr. Diaz . . ."

"Shut up!"

His eyes looked so fierce, I was petrified into silence. Suddenly, he was rubbing the back of my hand, my knuckles, slowly up and down his hard penis. Using his other hand he persistently forced my fist open, turned my palm around and wrapped my fingers around his rigid shaft. It felt like a piece of marble under a soft velvet cover. Covering my hand with his much larger and stronger one, he slowly worked my hand up and down his meaty cock.

"Please . . ." I muttered, scared to death. "Please let me go, Mr. Diaz. I'm not . . . like that."

"Yes you are," he said softly, his eyes now closed, enjoying my touch.

Mister Diaz . ."

His eyes snapped open, fierce and demanding once again. "Do not talk!" Then he smiled as he took my free hand, also forcing it around his cock. He was in effect, masturbating himself using both my hands.

My mind spinning, I sped through my options. I could scream, but who would hear me? Mrs. Diaz was upstairs sleeping and Tito was in the back garden. I didn't want that dirty old man to see me like this, anyway. No telling how he'd react. Probably want the same done to him. The neighbors were too far away to notice, or even care. If I could turn around more I might kick him on the leg. What then? My job would be gone and I'd never find another job paying half as well. What would my husband think? I couldn't tell him the real reason I'd lost my job. My Mexican husband would never be able to except the fact I'd touched another man's penis, even if forced to.

I decided that with his wife so ill, he probably never had sex anymore and was simply desperate. All Mister Diaz wanted was a quick hand-job and considering my choices, I could do that. My options limited, I had little choice. I'd just have to grit my teeth and do it, then afterward I'd never let myself be alone with him again. This time I'd do what he wanted because I had to, but if anything else happened after this I'd quit and go home.

Forcing myself to think of other things, I let him manipulate my hands the way he wanted, determined to dodge his discharge when he ejaculated. When it was over I'd go home, take a long hot bath and forget it ever happened. That was my only option. He released one of my hands but I didn't remove it – just kept slowly stroking his hard, but velvet-soft, penis. The sooner it was over, the better I decided.

I felt his free hand pressing slightly on my spine and then slowly moving downward across my buttocks. I attempted pulling back, twisting as far as I could, but it went under the hem of my skirt, coming to rest cupping my entire vagina. I stiffened my legs, trying to evade his hand. It did no good.

Through my panties, a finger slid along the outer lips of my vagina, circling it several times as I moved my butt to escape his touch. Struggling, I tried pulling away, but he held my hand tight around his cock and eventually I just gave up. What was the use? He was just too strong.

"Please," I attempted once more to reason with him.

"You're wet," he said.

"I am not!" My face flaming with embarrassment, I wanted to die.

The finger pulled my damp panties aside and slowly slipped inside me. That was when I felt the dampness on my thighs and knew he'd been right. I was wet. I didn't want this. I was scared out of my wits, so how could I be wet? Closing my eyes, I attempted to breathe, willing my mind to be somewhere else. The finger touched my clitoris and I almost jumped out of my skin, crying out sharply. He let the finger slowly circle my slippery clit several times.

I whimpered softly, heard him chuckle at my unintended sound. He sounded so cruel in the empty room. Another finger joined the first, going deep. I groaned. This time it didn't sound like a protest even to me. The hand covering mine on his cock was removed, and I now felt it at the back of my head, grasping the bun at the nape of my neck, clinching tightly around it. He pulled my hair just enough to pinch. A thousand tiny pinpricks letting me know he was the one in control.

My heart was thumping wildly inside my chest and I gulped air, feeling as though I were having a heart attack. The insistent pressure on the back of my head forced me forward, closer to the awful monstrous thing I'd been stroking. I watched in terrified fascination as the clear liquid bubble at its very tip drew nearer. Only inches from my mouth, he stopped.

"Lick it," he whispered hoarsely.

I tried shaking my head, but it only pulled my hair more. He tightened his grip just enough to get me to comply.

"Lick it."

Accepting the fact that that I'd likely throw-up on him if I did as he commanded, the burning of my scalp finally became too much, and I did it. Tangy, sweet, a little salty, that's all. I didn't throw up, but I knew with certainty what he wanted now and I didn't know if I could do it – or if I could even live with myself if I did his bidding. I tried to draw back, but he held me firmly in place.

"Again," he instructed.

Trying not to think about where it came from, I tasted more of his clear fluid. Then he put even more pressure on the back of my head, forcing the entire crown of his cock between my lips. I tried fighting, but soon decided that what he wanted wasn't as bad as getting my hair pulled out by the roots.

"Use your tongue."

The fingers in my pussy were really producing a lot of results now. A third one had joined the other two, sawing in and out of my engorged vagina, slowly driving me up the wall. I realized I was sopping wet, my toes curling of their own accord! I finally did what he wanted, licking and swirling my tongue around the fat head of his cock.

That apparently wasn't enough though, because soon he pushed my head down on it even more and the meaty cock slowly disappeared inside my mouth. When it hit the back of my throat, I gagged, struggling fiercely to escape. This was all new to me. I was suffocating.

"Stop fighting me!" he said sternly. "Breathe through your nose."

I did it and that helped a lot. I breathed deeply through my nostrils, feeling that thick piece of meat lying quietly inside my mouth, pre-cum coating my tongue. I wondered what would happen if I bit it, but I feared the consequences of that action, so I just held it there and waited for whatever was to come next. After a while, he slowly began sliding it in and out of my mouth. This went on for several minutes before I realized I was pushing backward against his fingers, suddenly aware of my rapidly approaching climax.

My mind screamed "No, no!" My body said something else. His fingers glided around my slimy clit, cupping my entire vagina and then plunging back inside, the three thick fingers stretching my vagina walls more than my husband's cock ever had. I groaned around the thick cock.

"Baby likes that, huh?" he whispered hoarsely.

I hated him, but I was so close I couldn't let it end yet. His cock pushed against the opening of my throat and then entered it. Slipping past the initial resistance, it slid in and down until I finally felt his hairy balls against my chin. I couldn't breathe but I didn't fight anymore.

"Breathe through your nose," he said again, tapping my clit softly.

A tiny spark fired from my clit when he tapped it. Then again, harder, and more sparks flew. I squirmed urgently backward against his hand, moaning softly. He laughed. "Aw yes, I do believe baby is ready."

He pulled my mouth off his cock until only the large bulbous head remained inside, and then he shoved it in to the balls again. I quickly caught on, soon doing it for him by nodding my head up and down. It slowly dawned upon me that my suction was causing him to make certain sounds of intense pleasure, flooding my mouth with his seminal flow. For some reason, that also increased my own pleasure.

When I took his cock all the way in I found that if I worked my lips and throat muscles around his throbbing meat, he would groan softly, flooding my mouth. When I withdrew I would slid my tongue along the vane underneath it, and he would moan even louder, sometimes grunt while emitting more delicious per-cum. I loved the grunts!

My right hand never left its grasp around his cock, my other had somehow found his large balls, and I was massaging them lovingly as I sucked. More and more clear liquid filled my mouth, but due to the pleasure his fingers were producing, it now tasted like ambrosia. It felt like sparks were continuously flying from my pussy! Groaning and wiggling I pushed backwards, frantically gyrating my ass against his magic fingers.

Suddenly, he stopped and removed his fingers from inside me, leaving my pussy feeling open and empty as cool air rushed inside that hot space. I moaned in protest, moving my ass around to recapture the pleasure he'd been giving me. Gone, was the good wife of a short time ago. In her place was this unidentifiable slut with a terrible inch, needing only fulfillment. He held my mouth covering the head of his throbbing cock and I worked my tongue as I tried understanding his words.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said hoarsely, with some difficulty. "I'm going to shoot my load inside your mouth and you're going to swallow every drop. After you do that I'll let you cum."

I didn't even slow down. I had to get relief or I'd die. I engulfed his cock again, letting my tongue slowly trail up the large vane beneath it and then drove my mouth back to the depts. I felt that huge head popping through the opening of my throat over and over, driving me crazy! The coolness against my crouch felt empty and wanting. Suddenly his body tensed as his thighs strained against my cheeks, He trembled violently, his breath catching in his throat. I knew for certain that for the first time in my life I was going to swallow a man's sperm.

I was past caring. I guess I actually wanted it. Maybe even needed it! Moaning and squirming with frustration, my wet thighs sliding against each other in an attempt to quell the burning between them, I redoubled my tongue's effort and tasted my first shot of cum as it hit the back of my throat.

Soon, it filled my mouth as I struggled to keep from strangling on the huge flow. Glob after slimy glob coated my tongue and mouth, sliding down my throat to pool somewhere deep inside my soft belly. Like a kitten getting its tummy full of warm cream, I continued to lick, suck and slowly milk his throbbing cock with my hand while massaging his balls, until the spurts stopped completely.

Feeling drained but strangely unfulfilled, I waited for his fingers to find my burning pussy, returning the pleasure I'd just given him. Wetness coated my inter-thighs as I spread them farther apart, anticipating the fullness of his fingers again.

As I nibbled on his deflating cock, he attempted to push my head away but I stubbornly resisted, trying to keep his thick meat inside my hungry mouth for just a moment longer. Finally, he roughly pushed me away, laughing as I whimpered softly in protest.

"Damn. You are one greedy bitch," he said quietly. Suddenly standing, he pulled me to my feet. He turned me around, facing toward the desk, and pushed between my shoulders until I fell forward across it. Holding me down with a hand in the middle of my back, he knelt between my wide-stretched legs. I felt his hot breath on my crouch, and then he was suddenly devouring my pussy with his mouth.

His face felt like it was completely buried in my crouch, slipping and sliding around inside it, licking and nibbling my clit, his tongue probing deeply inside me. If I'd thought his fingers were divine, his mouth drove me bonkers! The only orgasms I'd ever experienced were just a few tiny firecracker types. The one his mouth gave me was an explosion! A neutron bomb! The top of my head simply blew off, scrambling my mind and turning my bones to liquid. It went on forever as I gripped the desktop and tried to keep from flying off it – and into outer space.

When the room finally quit spinning, Mr. Diaz was softly licking my thighs and all around my hairy pussy lips. As the tenderness eventually went away, finally he sucked my clit once more. I quickly felt another explosion approaching. I'd never cum twice in one day in my entire life! But here I was, heading for another one. Just before it arrived, Diaz pulled me to my feet, led me to the couch, He sat down and pulled me into his lap facing him, that evil smile on his lips.

A cock of that size was never meant to penetrate a small female like me. I knew that for a fact, but by now I was determined to try. The "good respectable housewife" I'd always been, was gone now - replaced by this wanton whore practically salivating over the thick throbbing cock before her. Placing my hands against his hairy chest to keep from impaling myself on that massive fencepost,

I slid around on the soft crown for a minute trying to block out the burning pain as I lowered myself on it, forcing some of it inside. It seemed, all my nerve endings terminated in my burning cunt. I remained that way for a moment, letting my body adjust to the biggest thing I'd ever had inside it. When my legs began trembling due to the strain of hanging there, I simply let gravity do its thing, ignoring the pain until I was sitting flat on his stomach.