Tequila Ch. 02

"Damn, I need a shower after all that," Fernando chuckled.

"Ung, me too," Trisha panted.

He pulled her from the bed and carried her into his bathroom. Inside of his shower, he adjusted the taps, then pinned her to the wall. The hot water pummeled down their bodies as they kissed.

"Ugh, no, oh God," Trisha cried out as she felt Fernando's renewed erection at the entrance to her ass.

"Ung," they both cried out as Fernando's cock easily slid into Trisha's slimy rectum.

He held her off the shower floor, pinned against the wall as he hammered her sore ass. They kissed while he fucked her.

"I love you," Trisha cried out in orgasm.

"Love you too," Fernando grunted, close to his own climax.

"Ung, oh my God," Trisha cried out.

"Ung, yes," Fernando hissed and began spraying his semen into her again.

After catching their breath, they did shower. Sponging his sister's raw pussy and red, raw looking anus did give Fernando another erection. Trisha knelt on the floor of his shower and sucked his cock, claiming her pussy and her ass needed a little break.

"Damn, how big's that water tank?" Trisha asked after swallowing the few spurts Fernando's cock offered.

"Tankless water heater," Fernando said, pulling her to her feet. "We could stay in her all day and never run out."

Stepping into the bedroom, toweling off, Trisha was assaulted with the smells of sex. Raw or not, her pussy responded to the scents.

She found her suitcase and pulled out the simple top and blue jeans she'd packed. Fernando removed the items from her hands and pulled her, still nude from the bedroom.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Shit! I'm starving," Trisha realized.

He made a simple lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches with some chips. He also fixed a few drinks for them.

Trisha could taste the alcohol in her drink and giggled. Fernando looked over at her, smiling.

"Don't need get me drunk, you know," Trisha said.

After lunch, Fernando made Trisha lie down on the leather couch. She was slightly puzzled when he produced the tube of lavender scented lotion.

He dribbled a goodly amount of the lotion onto her large breasts, then had her push the two melons together with her hands.

"Called a titty fuck," Fernando explained as he pushed his hard cock through the very tight tunnel her breasts created.

"Oh," Trisha said in understanding.

Truthfully, Trisha found the act not very exciting. There was no stimulation for her as his cock slid in and out of her breast tunnel.

Then, when Fernando ejaculated, it went from being slightly boring to very disgusting. Her chin, her throat and the tops of her breasts were now coated in his semen. As she lay on his couch, the semen began trickling into her long hair.

"Well, thank God you got that endless hot water heater thing," Trisha said when Fernando finally wiggled off of her.

Sunday was a repeat of Saturday. Trisha found herself being fucked in her three holes, as well as having her breasts used to masturbate Fernando's rampant cock. Just when she was about to declare she'd had enough, Fernando would give her another drink. After consuming her drink, the sexual play would continue.

Monday morning, Trisha was still slightly drunk when Fernando roused her. Her slight drunkenness slid into full blown hangover when he did not provide a Tequila Sunrise for her. He had her dress in the shameful, slutty outfit she'd been wearing when he'd plucked her from in front of the Pack A Sack, then hustled her to his cruiser.

Trisha's head hurt, her mouth was dry, and her breath was horrible. She was also sweating profusely, despite the air conditioner in Fernando's car blowing directly onto her bare flesh.

Trisha looked up when they came to a stop and realized, with dread that they were in front of her house.

"Oh no," Trisha moaned, seeing her father's Mercedes-Benz in the driveway.

"Oh no," Trisha moaned, looking down at her vulgar, shameful outfit.

"Come on, get it over with," Fernando said, opening his door.

"Oh Fernando, why?" Trisha moaned.

The look on her father's face said it all. Trisha started bawling as she, Fernando, her mother and her father stood in the small foyer of the home.

"Go to your room," Franklin said, voice barely above a whisper.

Trisha's tears fell in earnest now. She reached out, trying to hug her father but he shoved her arms away.

"Go. To. Your. Room," he grunted, voice tight.

"Daddy, i..." Trisha tried to say, then turned and ran up the stairs to her room.

"Sir?" Fernando said to his father. "I uh, had an interesting traffic stop the other night."

Franklin wrinkled his brow in confusion, trying to make sense of his son's words. He did not hear Stacy's gasp. He did not see the look of dread on his wife's face.

With one last glance up the stairs toward his daughter's room, Franklin nodded and led the way to his den. Stacy glared white hot hatred as Fernando smirked at her.

Stacy had not looked at the police officer that had pulled them over. She had resolutely stared out the passenger window as the police officer lectured the driver of the small sports car on his erratic driving.

"And uh, Mr. Wurtz? Next time you want your little friend there to perform oral sex on you? Do it while you're in 'Park,' hmm?" the officer had said, causing Stacy's face to flame bright red.

Now, standing in the foyer, looking at the closed door of her husband's den, Stacy knew whom had pulled them over. If she had not been so busy trying to tune the officer out, tune Vernon Wurtz out, tune her own mortification out, she would have realized she knew the police officer.

Inside of the den, Fernando refused the bottle of whiskey his father held out. He smiled and indicated his uniform.

"Roll call's in forty minutes, Sir," Fernando said. "Last thing I need is to have whiskey on my breath."

"Why don't you ever call me 'Dad' or 'Pop' like Maria or Michelle?" Franklin sighed heavily as he downed his own shot of whiskey.

"You've never asked me to," Fernando replied.

"Call me Pop, hmm?" Franklin said, debating with himself about having a second shot.

There was this sweet little Ferrari right in front of me? Weaving back and forth, driver was having some real trouble shifting through the gears, so I hit my lights," Fernando said.

Franklin smiled tightly when Fernando called him 'Pop.' He pushed the whiskey bottle away.

"Walked up to the window and could see that the driver was trying put his cock back in his pants. Also saw his passenger was trying real hard not to be seen," Fernando continued.

He pulled out his cell phone and punched a few numbers. Fernando breathed out in impatience, then smiled.

"Know a uh, Vernon Wurtz?" Fernando asked.

"Wurtz, Wurtz, shit, its right there," Franklin admitted.

"This guy?" Fernando said, showing Franklin a cell phone photo of Vernon Wurtz, Vernon's Ferrari, and in the passenger seat, Franklin's wife, Stacy.

"Stacy's co-worker; works in the cubicle right next to hers," Franklin said through gritted teeth.

"Mm hmm," Fernando said, taking his cell phone from his father. "And always wondered, how two brown haired brown eyed people could have a beautiful little blonde with those amazing gray eyes?"

Franklin looked up sharply. Fernando punched in a few buttons, then turned the cell phone back to his father.

"Vernon Wurtz has a Facebook page," Fernando said. "And would you look at those eyes?"

Monday morning, after the spring break came to an end, Brandon Hollingsworth smiled when he spotted Trisha Nash standing with Angelle Redding outside of school. He had not seen Trisha since the first Friday of their spring break; she told Brandon her parents had grounded her because of their impromptu party.

"Hey, hey, hey," Brandon said and bent to kiss Trisha. "There's my girl."

Trisha deftly avoided Brandon's lips. She put her small hand on his chest to avoid another attempt.

"Not your girl," Trisha said flatly.

"Huh? What you mean you're not my girl?" Brandon asked.

"Means, I'm not your girl. I'm done with you," Trisha said. "Done with putting up with your stupid ass."

"Fine, bitch," Brandon snarled when his brain finally engaged. "Uh, won't take me but a minute replace you with someone ten times prettier than you."

"Uh huh, until she finds out how tiny your dick is," Trisha laughed.

The students that had been eavesdropping gasped at Trisha's announcement. Brandon flamed red, but common sense told him if he struck Trisha, he'd be expelled from Lloyd M. Bensen High School with graduation only a few weeks away.

"Well, hope your next boyfriend's got a dick big enough fill that canyon you got," Brandon snarled. "Tell him strap a two by four to his ass so he don't fall in, hmm?"

Trisha's mocking laugh caused a few other students to laugh at Brandon. He roughly pushed between Trisha and Angelle and entered the school.

Entering the building, Brandon saw Bobby East. He marched up and shoved the boy, hard into the row of lockers.

Bobby sneered and called Brandon a faggot. Brandon took a swing at Bobby's head, but instead of connecting with Bobby's jaw, Brandon punched a steel locker. He stared at his rapidly swelling hand, then lunged for the smirking Bobby.

Trisha watched as Bobby kicked Brandon's crotch, then put Brandon on the floor with a elbow strike to the back of Brandon's head. She'd felt somewhat guilty when Brandon had shoved Bobby; the boy had done nothing to incur Brandon's anger.

The guilt gave way to satisfaction; obviously Bobby East could handle himself. She watched as Mrs. Ortega, their Science teacher ordered Bobby to the principal's office. Trisha nodded her approval when Becky McMahon, an unpopular kid stuck up for Bobby.

"Anyway," Trisha said to Angelle, continuing the story Brandon had interrupted. "Somehow, my dad? Gets it in his head we all need to do one of those DNA Genealogy things you see on TV all the time? Supposed get the results soon."

"Oh cool! Oh! Knowing you, you'll probably wind up being some millionaire's last living relative or something, you lucky bitch," Angelle enthused.

"Whatever," Trisha laughed.

At ten minutes after three, Trisha stepped outside, into another brutally hot Texas afternoon. She smiled happily as she heard a brief blare of a police siren and looked over. Her pussy got wet as she saw Fernando sitting, waiting for her.

With a wave to Angelle, Trisha skipped over to the cruiser.

"Want a ride home?" Fernando smiled.

She climbed into the front seat and gave Fernando a passionate kiss. He pulled out of the school's parking lot and drove toward the Nash house.

"No. I want go to your house," Trisha pouted.

"Okay," Fernando smiled, and continued straight.

Upon entering the house, Trisha wasted no time. She dropped to her knees and unzipped Fernando's uniform trousers.

Just as Trisha's hot mouth enveloped Fernando's hard cock, Franklin Nash was slitting open the envelope that had the results of the DNA tests he'd submitted. Looking at the jumble of numbers, Franklin felt another one of his headaches beginning behind his eyes. He'd suffered from debilitating headaches for much of his adult life, but lately they seemed to come on more frequently. And the severity of these headaches seemed much worse.

"Need see a doctor," Yolanda, his personal assistant said, seeing her lover's face twisted in a grimace of pain.

While her husband was being comforted by his lover, Stacy Nash was looking at a text message on her phone. The number was one she did not recognize,

The cryptic message 'Your daughter in action' and a link to an attachment piqued her interest and Stacy clicked on the attachment.

Just as Stacy was looking at an image of her daughter's face, chin and lips coated in a spurt of semen, a cock spearing Trisha's mouth, Trisha was bent over the armrest of Fernando's couch, rectum wiggling to expel Fernando's thrusting cock.

THE END

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I do thank you sincerely for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my stories, and those that 'Favorite' my stories.

I do not read emails. I generally delete them without opening them.

Have a swell day. And some of you? Have a swollen day.

And, who sent those cell phone photographs to Stacy's phone? Most likely a pissed off Brandon Hollingsworth. Or maybe Maria had seen the images on Fernando's phone, and in a fit of jealous rage over Fernando's 'white bitch' lover forwarded the images to Stacy. Or... The list of suspects is long; Trisha Nash had stepped on more than one toe as she ascended to the top of her high school hierarchy.