Amusement Park RidebySir Galahad©
The scene changed. Now the brown-skinned slut, naked except for a pair of black patent leather stilettos, was on her knees before the Anglo stud, sucking his cock. Her head bobbed up and down, her moans mixing with his groans as she fellated him, pausing every 10 seconds or so to stroke his massive erection while she caught her breath. Paloma didn't move, transfixed by the scene of a Hispanic woman having sex with a muscular white male.
I came up behind her and took her in my arms. She turned her head and kissed me hard, her mouth hot and seeking as she brought an arm behind my head and pulled it to her. My hands fumbled with the brooches and undid them, the towels falling to the floor. She moaned against my mouth and turned in my arms. She reached down, unfastened the brooch holding up my towel kilt, and tossed it aside. Dropping to her knees, she stroked my cock lightly with her nails and took me into her mouth like the starlet on the tube.
Paloma was a much better cock-sucker than that actress. She had mastered the trick of rotary breathing. That meant she could suck me without having to stop, remove my prick from her mouth and masturbate me until she had enough wind back to suck it some more. I stood at the foot of the bed, watching her move it in and out, wet with her saliva as she gave me the best blowjob I'd ever had. I could feel her tongue lashing the frenum as she paused with just my cockhead in her mouth before moving back down the shaft, her cheek hollowing as she sucked. With each stroke she gained a little more, until finally she had her nose buried in my pubic hairs and the head of my cock in her throat. She hummed and I almost lost it right there. She looked up at me and I saw her eyes smile before she resumed her steady movement up and down my shaft. Her eyes shifted to look past me at the picture over the bed, where she could see a reflection of the TV screen.
On the TV, the fellatio scene faded to something new. The Hispanic pornstar was standing and holding onto the edge of a bed. The white actor who was hung like a horse was fucking her from behind. A close-up showed his thick rod moving in and out of her cunt with such force her breasts swung back and forth while she cried out, loving it. Paloma pulled all the way back, my cock coming free of her mouth, got to her feet and grabbed the edge of the low bureau the TV sat on. She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes burning with lust, and waggled her butt at me, her legs already parted to show her pink, wet pussy. I didn't need a second hint. Stepping behind her, I took hold of her hips and pressed forward. My cock slipped between her pussy lips and sank home like a hot knife through butter. She sighed at the feeling in her cooze and began to fuck me back.
"Give it to me hard, Dick! Fuck me like he's fucking her! Pretend I'm her and fuck me like a porn star!" she ordered.
I slapped her ass with a snap like a pistol shot. "I don't need to pretend you're a porn star! You're a better lay than she'll ever be, Paloma! I'll fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked! But if it will make it better for you, I'll do you that way. Fuck me, bitch! Fuck me like you mean it! Show me what you can do, slut!"
Sensing she didn't want to be screwed slowly and lovingly, I played her game. I fucked her hard and rough, hearing her tits slap against the bureau while I kept an eye on the screen. When the porn actor yanked his partner's hair, I did too. When he smacked her butt to urge her on and she screamed as she came, I spanked Paloma so hard I left red imprints of my hand on her asscheeks. When he reached around to find the Hispanic girl's clit, I did the same. Locating her clitoris by feel, I gathered up some of her dew on my fingertips and took the shaft between fingers and thumb, rubbing it as it if it were a tiny penis. She shook with the pleasure-shock as she orgasmed from that, moaning in harmony with the gal in the movie. I could see her face in the mirror behind the TV. Her eyes were shut tight as she lost herself in the moment, only the sex mattering to her.
Her eyes flew open as she felt my cockhead probe at her anus. Before she could protest, it yielded and I was in her ass, working my way deeper with every stroke.
"What are you doing?" she snapped.
"What you asked for, baby! Look at the TV!"
The actor was firmly embedded in the actress's ass, that huge penis sawing in and out of her as she raised her head and moaned passionately. Her face squeezed tight and then relaxed as she cried out, obviously cumming from the intruder in her rectum.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No! Do me like her! Fuck my ass! Fuck me like a slut! Don't hold back! Use me like her!" she begged. "Give it to me, Dick! Give me your cock in my ass!"
I pulled her cheeks apart so I had a good view of her rosebud. My well-marinated cock was a tight fit; it was clear she didn't do this every day. But as she accustomed herself to the feel of my dick in her butt, she began to move against me and we worked together in harmony. I saw her eyes close in the mirror as my own prick sawed in and out of Paloma's ass like the couple in the movie. I reached around and found her clit again. She moaned as I resumed masturbating her while I fucked her ass. Sweat broke out on her skin as I continued screwing and rubbing her. She gasped and began moving her rounded globes in a figure-eight as I thrust in and out.
"Oh god - oh god - ohmigod - you're so big! I don't - I can't - oh - oh - oh YES!"
Paloma shuddered around my cock as she came again. I didn't stop my deep strokes while she shook in the throes of orgasm, but kept going. Her head came up and she looked at me in the mirror, smiling as she put her head back down and actively thrust back at me, savoring my invading dick, trying to milk it with her ass and get me off too. We fucked each other long after the porno flick with the Latina chick and the Anglo guy ended, with her cumming again, until at last I couldn't deny my own climax.
We came together, my cock jerking and my milky spunk shooting into her guts as she shook from the force of her orgasm and female juices coated the hand I was using to masturbate her. When it was over, I withdrew from her and walked to the bathroom to clean up. I returned with a hot washcloth to find Paloma sprawled on the bed, exhaling soft, sensuous groans. I sat on the edge of the bed and gently sponged her off. She looked at me with tenderness. When I was done, we cuddled together under the covers and drifted off to sleep.
Twice during the night we woke amorously. Once, she sucked me off until I shot my wad all over her face and those firm tits of hers. The other time, I woke her by going down on her and bringing her off with teeth, tongue and lips. I used her, she used me, and I could not remember a night I had passed with so skilled a lover, ever.
But the sun must eventually rise and end even a wonderful lovenight, and today was no exception. Paloma busied herself making coffee and setting out the remainder of the pastries I had brought while I hastily showered and used the courtesy razor provided by the management to shave. I poured the coffee and found an innocuous radio channel while she performed her ablutions. We were dressed for the street as we ate, touching hands frequently and stroking bare forearms with fingertips, but we didn't say much. I'm not a telepath and have never claimed to be; but I had the feeling Paloma didn't want this to end any more than I did.
Breakfast eaten and the trash disposed of, I stood in front of the television, unsure what to say or how to say it. She came to me and we held each other. She looked up at me.
"Do your travels in search of antiques ever take you as far south as Florida?"
"Funny you should ask. There's this old mansion way out past Weston, the Hazlitt Estate. You ever heard of it?"
She frowned as she searched her memory. "Yes! It's on Alligator Alley, off State Route 84, isn't it? Way out in the sticks? Big castle-looking place?"
"That's the one. It's on about 1500 acres of sawgrass. Joseph Hazlitt made his pile in chemicals and munitions during World War II. After the war, he went to Europe and bought up antiques and buildings at starvation prices. I think he was more than a touch eccentric; seriously influenced by Citizen Kane, if you get my drift. Anyway, he built his Xanadu there and retired to it in the late '50s, and he and his equally eccentric wife globetrotted and sent back all kinds of stuff from all around the world until they died in the late '80s. Their kids have been arguing about who gets how much of what ever since. The state wants its cut of the loot, and so does the IRS.
"Well, they finally got the will probated and came to a settlement early this year. No one's lived in that old mausoleum since Hazlitt and his wife passed away; it's just been moldering. They were like magpies, not serious collectors, so it's not like we're talking museum quality stuff here. As I heard it, the settlement is something like this. The state buys the property for a state park and waives taxes and death duties. One condition is it is not to be turned into a housing development or anything like that, ever. The Feds get their money from the heirs after the sale, and the state is holding the biggest private tag sale in the history of the State of Florida in three weeks to clean the place out and recoup some of what they waived."
"And you're planning to go?" she asked softly.
"It's the sort of sale that happens less than once in most lifetimes. I wouldn't miss it." I paused, trying to phrase what I wanted to say just so. "Would you mind if I came by your store and took you out to dinner while I'm in the area, Paloma?"
She responded by going to her purse and taking out a business card. She wrote something on the back of it and tucked it into my pocket as I fumbled out my wallet and handed her mine.
"I'll look forward to it. And don't worry about making a reservation at a motel when you come. My house has a spare bed - not that you'll need it." She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a long, lingering kiss. My hands wandered over her body, re-exploring her curves. At last she broke the kiss and looked into my eyes.
"You'd better be going. You still have a business to run. Call me."
"Of course," I agreed. Without looking back, I walked out the door and closed it behind me.
The sun was behind a cloud as I walked to my van. I took out the card and read what Paloma had written on the back. There was a phone number and a note:
"I like estate sales as much as dinner."
The sun broke out from behind the cloud, lighting up the parking lot, and I smiled.