Something New

'What do you mean stale?' Isabella shouted across the bedroom. She emerged from the bathroom, tying up her thick black hair with the ferocity someone might use to load a shotgun. Michael kept his bright, cool eyes on Isabella's, such a dark brown they nearly looked black against her pupils. He spoke in his slow, measured way, as Isabella changed into scuffy pyjamas, the nice underwear she was planning on wearing, discarded to the en suite floor.

'Honey-bunny....' He started, before, with a hiss of breath, Isabella raised an index finger, 'Don't you use pet names on me!'

Michael waited a beat, and then continued, 'It's not you. I just want to try something new, something different.'

Isabella had been tightly wound, ready to respond to any personal attack, but as usual, Michael's careful, easy responses disarmed her anger, and left her feeling rather foolish. She moved forward in silence and sat on the edge of their bed. Michael couldn't help but gaze, even with her hair tied back with a bright purple scrunchie, her usually elaborate makeup removed, and dressed in an old T-shirt and some shorts, she still radiated beauty and warmth.

Isabella was the daughter of a first generation immigrant family, who had come to the states from across the border to live the American dream. Isabella was the first to go to College, where the two had met, and their personalities, despite their differences, worked well for each other. Isabella was fiery, outspoken, quick to anger and forgive, and Michael was cool headed, stoic and took his time with nearly everything. Their relationship blossomed, and they were happy.

Isabella sniffled, her big doe eyes were looking at the floor, and Michael's arm smoothed over her shoulder and across her chest. He pulled her against him, his skin looking even paler than normal against her own, deep brown. She leaned back into his touch, her voice was quieter now, and she toyed with the sheets underneath her, plucking and twisting them.

'You still find me sexy, right?'

Michael chuckled, and Isabella was about to launch into another tirade, when he took her chin, turned her head, and kissed her adoringly. She melted into the touch of the man she loved, her pear shaped figure relaxing into him.

They drew back from the kiss, Michael's eyes soft, Isabella's were dreamy, and her plump lips hung slightly open. He kissed her forehead, which made her smile.

'Of course I do.' He said softly, hand moving down to squeeze one wide hip, 'How could I not?'

She smirked to herself and flicked his nose, 'So, something new?'

Michael, in a move very much out of character, hesitated. This only increased Isabella's curiosity. She shifted to face him, as her usually unshakable partner fiddled nervously with his hands, eyes casting around the room.

Eventually, with gentle encouragement, and steady patience as Michael fumbled and struggled to find the words, the truth came out. As Michael explained what he wanted to try, and it was a fair few steps away from what most couples would call "spicing up the bedroom", Isabella's meticulously styled eyebrows rose steadily up her forehead. When Michael had finally finished, there was an achingly long silence. He had expected her to laugh, or give a firm no, but silence was far from unusual for her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she nodded. 'I'll think about it.' And with that, she kissed his cheek, and fell onto her side of the bed.

The next day it was as if nothing had happened. Isabella was her normal, grouchy morning self, not willing to budge until the coffee was done and she had an acceptable amount of time to stay wrapped up in blankets and glare at her clock.

They shared their usual pre-work kiss before setting off to their separate jobs, Isabella taking the bus, and Michael driving. He couldn't get her reaction out of his mind, and even now, the ambiguity plagued him.

As the week progressed, and the weekend drew nearer, he was tempted to ask again, but he knew Isabella wasn't one to just let a topic disappear. If she said she was thinking about it, she was thinking about it.

Friday night had finally come, Michael drove home, weary and looking forward to a quiet night in, and just as he pulled onto the kerb outside their apartment, his phone buzzed. He checked it, expecting a message from Isabella saying her bus was going to be late, or what she wanted for dinner, but what he couldn't have anticipated, was directions to a bar he didn't recognise.

Frowning at the glowing light of his phone in the darkness of his car, Michael felt something inside of him thrum with excitement. Without messaging her to ask for some context, he turned the car's engine over, and pulled out onto the road.

The city welcomed him back inside its neon lit bosom, as Michael turned up and around unfamiliar streets. The bar turned out to be a pool and snooker setup, announcing its existence in large, flickering letters.

He stepped into the murky room, despite its seed appearance, it was a welcoming atmosphere. It was loud too, with the sounds of the jukebox and speakers drowned out by multiple conversations and people yelling over the space. Michael peered over the top of the crowd, and spied Isabella from afar. She was sitting at the counter, he could only see her side-profile, but she seemed to be nursing a low glass.

Michael slid, pushed and ducked through the busy pool tables and people jolly with drink and the knowledge that the next two days were their own to waste. He finally reached Maria, and went to speak when he finally saw what she was wearing, and the words caught in his throat.

In the artificial light of the bar, she looked like the picture of sinful, urban temptation. She wore denim jeans so short that the pockets stuck out against her thighs, a bright pink thong rose from the back, and she wore a crop top to finish the piece, something he hadn't seen since their party days. He was struck by how much of her figure was on show, she had always been bottom heavy, and now it looked like the tiny denim shorts were about to rip at the seams. Her makeup was also suitably dramatic, black eyeshadow made her eyes smoke in the low light, and brighter lipstick drew the eye to her soft, welcoming mouth. She had adorned herself in chunky bracelets and eye-catching ear studs, glittering in the dim. She caught his eye, smiled, in a way that made his suit pants feel far too tight, and beckoned him over. Next to her was a small, dark red clutch, one he recognised buying her for a birthday.

Michael couldn't believe it. He moved forward in a daze, she had actually indulged his fantasy, and gone above and beyond in doing so. He wanted to fling the shorter Latina over one shoulder and carry her back to the house, but he knew this was all part of the build. He took a steadying breath and sat down on the bar-stool next to her, trying to look as casual as possible.

Isabella's smile widened, and her eyes slowly roved over him, sizing him up. 'Hello there Handsome,' She touched his thigh, fluttering her long, thick eyelashes, 'Come here often?'

He shook his head, swallowing to try and relax his dry throat. Isabella laughed, God, she had even changed her laugh; it was louder, designed to flatter. 'What's the matter? I haven't scared you have I?'

She shuffled her stool a little closer, 'So, what's a good-looking guy like you doing all alone on a Friday night?'

Michael finally found his words. He shrugged one shoulder, leaning forward onto the sticky counter, 'I just came out, maybe make a friend.' He looked over to Isabella, or the person she was pretending to be at least, she bit her bottom lip, and gave him another smouldering look.

'I can be your friend.' She purred, leaning closer. She pressed her painted lips to his ear, whispering, making Michael's spine tingle with delight, 'I can be a lot more too, with the right...' She paused for the implication, 'persuasion.'

Michael looked over to her, catching her eyes. He hummed, as if considering it, 'How much?'

Isabella ran a hand over his chest, creasing the fabric of his shirt, 'So formal! I usually charge two hundred for the night, but for you baby....' She sighed and kissed his jaw, 'you can have me all night long for 150, and believe me, I'm worth every cent. Plus, if you pay a little more...' She took his hand, and placed it on her barely covered ass. 'I'll let you fuck me here.'

That was new. They had experimented, of course, but this was a bold move. He tried not to show his surprise, this wasn't Isabella after all. 'I'll pay.' He said, with a experimental squeeze. She swatted his hand away, 'Behave yourself! Let's get somewhere private, then you can grope me all you want.'

Michael was amazed to hear a frustrated, impatient grunt come from his lips. Isabella seemed impressed as well, as something about it made her shudder. 'Don't get grumpy.' She pressed her hand to his chest again, 'Come on, I don't want to get busted. Got a car?'

He took her hand, leading her out of the bar, as people watched them go, whispering and staring. Isabella practically sauntered beside him, swinging her wide hips, curled lovingly around his arm.

They left the bar into the cool of the night air, and, on instinct, Michael held open the door for Isabella. She smirked and slid into his seat, making a show of how she moved her smooth, beautiful legs. 'What a gentleman.' She touched Michael's shoulder as he sat in the driver's seat. 'Got a name Mister Tall, Dark and Handsome?'

'Michael.' He said, turning the engine on, 'You?'

'Izzy.' She settled in the seat, toying with the hem of her shirt, 'But you can call me whatever you want.'

Michael had to try really, really hard, not to break every traffic rule in the book. It didn't help that "Izzy" kept up the idle touches and long looks as he tried navigate the ever busy city traffic.

Once inside the house Michael realised Isabella had turned down all their couple photos. She must have left work early for this, he mused, as Izzy turned to face him, one hand on her hip. 'Shower?'

He nodded and gestured towards their bedroom, 'Just in there, take all the time you need.'

Izzy grinned, 'Oh, don't worry stud, I won't keep you waiting.' She walked away, peeling off her top as she did so, and Michael could see she hadn't bothered to wear a bra. 'And by the way!' She called back from the bedroom, 'My safe word is diamond.'

Michael stared at her, and his fingers twitched. He wanted to take her now, throw her down on the floor and use her, but he waited, it would make it all the better. He stepped into the bedroom once he heard the water running, and began to undress.

He wasn't sure where his fetish for prostitution had come from. Maybe being raised in a conservative, well-off family gave it a sense of the exotic, of danger, the sweet taste of forbidden fruit. Now that he was here, acting this out with the woman he loved, he felt excited, his heart felt like it might burst from his chest, but in a darker, more animal part of his mind, something primal burned. She was all his, that was part of the game, and maybe he should start acting like it.

He had just finished this train of thought when he heard a whistle from behind him; he turned, and suddenly had very few questions about how he should treat Izzy. She only wore her new, sheer thong, her figure framed by the light from the bathroom behind her.

She walked towards him hungrily, eyes half lidded, the dim light of the room only served to make her skin darker, to make her eyes draw him in even more. 'So, stud' She breathed, running a hand around the back of his neck, 'how do you want to-'

Michael grabbed her wrist and pulled it down to his crotch, Izzy's eyes went wide as she felt his thickness over the thin fabric of his boxers. 'Is this all for me?', she asked sweetly. Slowly, she began to stroke his aching cock, teasing it, squeezing it, running her fingers over the bulbous head. She licked her lips and gazed into his eyes. Michael's own closed, and he shuddered before he spoke.

'Suck my cock.' It wasn't a request, it was an order, and it sent a rush of power through him.

Izzy was quick to obey. She dropped to her knees as Michael sat back on the bed, yanking down his boxers hungrily. His hot, engorged cock sprung out, she sighed and took the base in her hand, letting it rest over her mouth and nose, the head touching her hairline. 'What a pretty cock.' She said adoringly, eyes crossed.

'Hurry up.' Another order, Michael looked down at her.

Izzy pouted and slapped the head against her lips a couple of times, 'You're paying Mister.'

She opened up her mouth and took the head inside, moaning as the familiar weight and heat touched her tongue. What she didn't expect, was for Michael to grab her head with both hands, and pull her down. She closed her eyes as her nose pressed against Michael's dark pubes, gagging and choking as her throat was filled with his shaft. She risked a look up, and saw something possessive in those eyes.

She felt her eyes start to water, and Michael released his grip, long enough for Isabella to get her safety word out, if she so wanted. But Izzy made no complaint, and instead took the cock with both hands, stroking and milking it with wanton abandon, slurping and massaging the sensitive head with her full lips, and long, wet tongue. Drool ran down her chin, she moved one hand to rub and squeeze his balls, losing herself in the moment. She swirled her tongue around the shaft, released the head and dragged her it up the side, lipstick staining the thick cock, her makeup wet and running.

'Feel good Mister?' She asked, giggling, before another couple of loud slurps on his rod, 'get your money's worth out of this cheap whore.'

Her filthy language made Michael's cock throb, he grabbed her chin, and snarled, 'Get back to work, slut.'

Izzy grinned obediently, and did just that, resuming her messy worship of his cock and balls.

Michael stared down at Izzy, degrading herself for him. She had shifted into a deep squat; her legs spread wide, one hand now down the front of her thong, furiously masturbating her clit. She had now moved her lips to his balls, her eye-makeup was streaming, her lipstick smeared, and her hair was messy and ruffled. She took one of his balls into her mouth and sucked adoringly, pumping his slick, hard cock with her hand. She popped her lips off and moved to its partner, and all the while, Michael's cock pumped and throbbed, pre-cum running down the head.

He felt his orgasm building, burning behind his stomach, the tops of his thighs, his chest tightening, and breathing getting ragged. With a growl of frustration he pulled her off by her hair. She pouted up at him, 'What's wrong Mister?'

'I'm not going to cum in your mouth,' he paused, 'not yet anyway. I want that...' He swallowed, 'I want that thick latina ass first.'

He could see Isabella's brain stir over his word choice, could see the familiar biting of the inside of her cheek, a move that heralded certain doom for anyone who invoked her wrath, but no thunder rocked the sky, and soon, Izzy was looking back at him again, looking all the prettier for her messy state.

'It'll cost you stud, but lucky for you, I come prepared.' She tapped his nose with her finger, and moved to her clutch, which she had left on the bedroom dresser. Michael watched, enjoying the view from behind, until she turned around, a bottle of lube in one hand, and a condom in the other.

'Non-negotiable.' She said sternly, tossing the lube towards him, the condom, she held between her lips.

Izzy sauntered onto the bed, stretching out like a cat on her front, her ass high up in the air, thong barely covering her.

'Be a gentleman, would you?' She looked back at him, eyes soft, and dream-like. He nodded silently, and yanked down the thong just enough to expose her tight rear. She shivered as cold air rushed over the sensitive spot, but breathed out deep, relaxing herself, and just in time too. Michael opened the bottle, and cool, thick lube dripped down her ass, and his thumb pressed against it, slowly rubbing and teasing her asshole. She breathed out a happy sigh, eyes fluttering closed, as alien sensations skipped through her. Her legs trembled and spread open a little wider for him, displaying herself, much to his delight.

Michael would always roll his eyes when his various guy friends would ask if it was true about latina girl asses, but even then, he'd smile knowingly. Isabella had a beautiful ass, full, perky, heart shaped, with enough jiggle to make it exciting. Now, with it lifted from the bed, waving back and forth in front of him as she exposed her most private areas, it had never looked more desirable.

Izzy was rocking her hips back in time with his touches now, his thumb slipping easily into her hole. She moaned and bit her brightly coloured bottom lip, 'Oh big guy, be gentle with me, hm? It'd to-' She squealed, as she felt Michael's large, wet tongue, drag over her asshole. 'What are you- Oh dios... ' She moaned and pushed her hips back into his face, as he swirled his tongue around her ass. 'Oh yes big guy, oh yes... You like how that latina ass tastes, hm?' She teased, shifting a little spread her cheeks open wider. She hummed and buried her face into their bed, feeling like a stranger in her own home. The anonymity this new identity gave her, how Michael was taking her, she loved it. Her face flushed and she gasped and groaned, cursing in her mother tongue, painted nails dragging at the sheets.

'Oh stud!' She sighed, 'Oh I should be paying you...' She glanced over her shoulder to see Michael lining his thick, condomed cock up with her hole. She stared at it, amazed by his power, and presence. She felt his hand take her hair and pull her neck back.

'Do it.' She breathed, when she felt him pause. 'I'm all yours.'

He nodded once, and slowly began to push himself deep inside her ass. Izzy's eyes rolled back, as she felt her body adapt and wrap itself around her client's thick member. Michael grunted as he thrust deeper inside her, nearly impossibly tight. He poured more lube onto his cock and thrust again, making a bolt of pleasure shoot through Izzy as she was stretched out. 'Oh! Slowly, slowly!' She pleaded, pushing her hips up a little more. They sighed and groaned, and Michael resisted every urge to just ravage her, until he was hilted deep inside her. Izzy was smiling dopely at the wall, eyes closed, 'Oh papi..' she giggled, 'You're so big...'

Michael took her hips and started to rock back and forth, her tight ass stroking and massaging his cock as he started to fuck her. Soon they were settled into a steady rhythm, Michael thrusting inside her, and Izzy's hand had disappeared into the soaked recesses of her thong, stroking and flicking her engorged clit. She moaned and cursed, giving him adoring looks or licking her lips enticingly as he fucked her, the wet sound of his lubed cock and hips slapping against her ass making her shudder with delight. A hard spank made her gasp out a desperate, 'Yes!' And more followed, covering her rear in a very pleasant burn. It felt wonderful, and dirty, and disgusting, and degrading, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. She wanted this, she wanted him to treat her like this, and Michael could feel her giving in. He fucked her harder, harder than he ever had before, squeezing and grabbing whatever he could reach. He felt her cum, saw her legs shake and give out, and he continued to pound her, her stomach pressed against the bed, as she grit her teeth, taking his thrusts.

He felt his climax start to burn in the pit of his stomach, spreading up his cock. Izzy felt it too, felt his cock throb and swell inside of her. She looked back to him, and opened her mouth, lifting her eyebrows suggestively.