Martina

The Latina hands me my fee. “I’m Martina de Souza, and I’m your next client. My boyfriend and I have been together since we were twelve, and we’re each other’s first and only, so I know I’m clean. Is somebody else using the room, or can we go right now?”

I smile at her eagerness and say, “Right now would be lovely.”

“Good,” she replies, “’cause I’m really horny, and really wet.”

The taller girl reaches out to touch my hand. “I’m Rielle Bishop, and I’ll be your next client after that, if you make Martina happy.” She turns to her friend. “Remember, I want to hear about him as soon as you’re done.”

“If you’re in that much of a hurry,” I say with a sly smirk, “we could call you when we get to the bedroom and set the phone next to the bed. You could listen in.”

Both girls flush again, but something in Rielle’s face tells me she’d agree in a shot if she thought Martina would be OK with it. Instead, she says, “No, afterward will be fine.”

Almost bouncing in her eagerness, Martina says, “Let’s go.”

I lead her into the sorority house and down into the basement bedroom; I turn on the light in the corner and close the door behind us. I turn back from the door to find Martina taking off her skirt. “Aren’t you going to let me do that?” I ask.

“Like I said, I’m really horny,” she responds. “I just want you to eat my pussy, and then I’ll go.”

“My dear, we have time,” I say coaxingly, “and I want to give you the greatest pleasure I can; and I want to see your beautiful body.”

“I don’t want to be unfaithful to my boyfriend,” Martina counters, though a little less certainly. “He does everything else for me, he just won’t go down on me, so—”

“I understand,” I reply soothingly. I reach out to unbutton her blouse. She looks like she’s not sure she should let me, but she doesn’t stop me. “I won’t kiss you, or touch you in any way that’s just emotionally intimate. But I am going to pleasure you with my hands and my mouth, and so I need to be able to kiss and touch your main pleasure zones.” Her bra is a front clasp, and it opens easily, revealing her tits to my avid eyes. They’re medium-sized and nicely perky, with fairly small sepia nipples and large areolae. “That way,” I tell her as I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties, “your pleasure will be much greater, and you’ll want to come back for more; and also,” I add, reaching out to cup her sweet curves in my fingers, “you’ll have that much more glowing a report for your friend Rielle, and she’ll be all the more eager to see me. And I suspect she’ll want a bit more from me than you do.”

“Mmmmmmm,” Martina hums; her hazel eyes are half-lidded in her round face as she watches me gently caressing her tits with my fingertips. “Yeah,” she pants, “I dunno if she’ll keep her boyfriend or not. She might decide she wants to fuck you instead, I dunno.”

“If so, I have no objection. But right now, I just want to think about you, and your sweet tits, and your hungry little pussy.” Martina moans as I say that. When I cup the outsides of her boobs with my palms and gently thumb her nipples, she moans louder.

“I shouldn’t—” Martina gasps. “I shouldn’t be letting you— But your hands feel so good.” I play with her breasts that way for a while, running my palms over them and teasing her nipples with my thumbs. I decide not to get any rougher with her nipples than that; she’s enjoying what I’m already doing a great deal. She might like having them pinched, but that’s something her boyfriend knows and I don’t, so best leave it to him.

Instead, I say, “This will feel even better.” I push Martina gently down on the bed; as usual, a soft towel is spread over the comforter, and there’s a small cushion on the floor beside it. I kneel down on the cushion and bend my head to caress her nipple with my lips. I reach my displaced hand down and slip a finger just inside her slit, with the palm of my hand resting on her pubic mound. She wasn’t kidding—she’s as wet as any woman I’ve ever felt, and really hot.

I kiss her nipple and stroke it with my tongue, rubbing the other with my thumb and moving it around like a tiny joystick. I caress the edges of her inner lips, then dip my finger down between them and rub it along their inner surfaces. I tease her opening, slipping my fingertip just inside and moving it in circles. Martina starts to boil under the combined attention. “I shouldn’t—” she pants. “I want you—you’re making me feel so good. I need—I need—I need—”

“Don’t worry,” I say gently, lifting my head from her tit as I slip my finger into her cunt to the second knuckle. Martina gasps and bucks her hips into my hand. “You’re not being unfaithful to your boyfriend. You only love him, not me, and that’s what matters,” I tell her as I start rubbing her G-spot, making her moan hungrily. “You’re just taking a little pleasure from me that he won’t give you. Now lay back and spread your legs more.” She does as I say, and I slip a second finger into her hotbox; she arches her back and moans. With my free hand, I spread open her sopping pussy and bend to breathe her in.

Martina’s aroma is of rich spices and dark sugar. Her eyes go wide as I pull my fingers out of her honeypot and suck them off; when I plunge them back in, she closes them and gasps, “¡Me coge con los dedos, papi! ¡Me encanta!” Papi!? That shocks me at first; then I realize what closing her eyes meant. She’s decided to deal with her uncertainty by fantasizing it’s her boyfriend between her legs. I hope he appreciates her delicate little pussy. It’s a little lighter in color than her nipples, but still a warm sepia. Her outer lips are small, and when I get a look at her inner lips, they’re on the small side as well, and seem fragile. From her reactions earlier, I’m pretty sure they’re really sensitive. Her clit’s quite long when erect, but not very thick; it’s much pinker than the rest of her, for whatever reason. I look up and tell her, “You have a beautiful pussy,” and she hums in pleasure.

I give her twat a good long lick back to front, lapping up her girl-honey, and Martina goes nuts. “¡Ahhhh, sí, papi!” she cries. “¡Lamer mi chocha! ¡Me haces mojada!” I lick back and forth, stroking the insides of her inner lips with the tip of my tongue, never quite touching her clit. She writhes underneath me and bucks her hips, but I keep my tongue just out of reach. “¡Me haces tan caliente, papi!” she moans. “Beso mi clítoris. Quiero chupar mi clítoris . . .”

I don’t know exactly what that means, but “clítoris” is pretty obvious. I swirl my tongue around it, then paint its tip with the flat; I flick it bottom to top with the tip of my tongue, then lick circles around it. “¡Coño!” Martina moans. “¡Se siente tan bien, papi! ¡Lamer mi clítoris! ¡Comer la chocha! ¡Dame más!” I wrap my lips around her pearl and start suckling rapidly; she writhes and squirms, moaning, “¡Ahhhh, papi, tu me vuelves loca! ¡Me encanta cuando come la chocha, papi! ¡Me encanta que me lo coman! ¡Dame más, papi! ¡Hazme vengo—dame más! Voy a venir!” I suck her button hard into my mouth, like I’m trying to suck it out by the roots; I slap it with my tongue, and at the same time, I press hard into her G-spot. “¡Voy a venir, papi!” she screams. “¡Me vengo en tu cara! ¡Coño!” She screams from the bottom of her lungs, and her entire body goes into spasms all at once. She thrashes and writhes and shakes, and her cunt seizes my fingers in a merciless velvet grip. I pull my head back so she doesn’t break my nose, but her orgasm doesn’t seem to notice.

When her body relaxes, I pull my fingers out of her cunt and thrust my tongue in; I capture her clit with my thumb and forefinger and pinch it very lightly. Martina just about bounces off the bed. “¡Hazme vengo, papi!” she yells. “¡Cógeme con tu lengua—frótame mi clítoris—comer la chocha! ¡Coño, papi, tu me vuelves loca!” I lap at her cunt walls and suck out her juices, making her moan and writhe. I caress her clit, tracing circles around it. I lick her G-spot, then flex my tongue in her pussy and rub the middle against her ridges, and she screams, “¡Me vengo en tu cara, papi! ¡Me vengo! ¡Coño! ¡Coño!” I wouldn’t have thought it possible for her to cum harder and longer than the first time, but she does.

This time, I let Martina cum all the way down from her climax. She shakes for a while, then her body stills. She lies quietly for a minute or two before her eyes open. “That was . . . amazing,” she says. She looks slightly embarrassed and continues, “I hope you don’t mind—I was fantasizing it was my boyfriend, not you.”

I grin at her and say, “That was pretty obvious. It was also really hot. No, I don’t mind at all.” Her face clears and she looks blissfully happy.

“Thank you,” Martina says softly. “I should get dressed and go, but—that was one of the best experiences of my life.” Catching sight of my cock straining at my jeans, her eyes open wide, and she adds, “And thank you for respecting me and not trying to fuck me. It has to be hard for you—” She stops and blushes at the unplanned double entendre, then continues, “You look really horny.”

“You came amazingly hard,” I tell her. “It was a real turn-on. Would you mind if I fantasized about you a little?”

Martina blushes. “I think—I think that would be fine,” she says shyly. “That’s kind of hot, actually.” She pauses a moment, then adds, “I will definitely be back. After I talk to Rielle, she’ll want to get on your schedule as soon as possible.”

“Are you sure she didn’t hear you?” I ask wryly.

Martina looks alarmed. “You didn’t have the phone on!” she protests, as if she’s afraid it’s actually a question.

“No,” I respond, and she relaxes. “You’re just the loudest screamer I’ve ever eaten.”

Martina blushes furiously, then turns away and starts gathering up her clothes, mumbling, “I gotta go now.” When her embarrassment fades, she looks over her shoulder to catch me checking out her sweet heart-shaped ass; she wiggles it as she gets dressed. Once she’s ready, she surprises me with a quick kiss, then heads out the door.