Busy At Work 5 Mangoes, Rum, and Dominican Cum SeXStoRY

I waited for over an hour for Peter to bring a brand new battery and ample petrol for my Volvo. I sat in my car, wondering how I let the pretty car go. The winters had not been good to her and I sentenced her to a slow death bringing her to the North Country. My Harley stayed wrapped up for seven months last year, and without Mark, being in the Adirondacks just made no sense. The winters were getting longer and longer and thoughts of palm trees, mangoes and rum filled the cold and vacant space where my heart used to reside. I thought about the events of the day...Mr. Richards jerking off to the thought of me bending over and displaying my ass for his under-the-desk pleasure...the bus driver, who could have wrecked watching me taunt the horny devil in the back seat... and Poor Peter, who had to beg and pay for any attention and came in his hand within minutes of me flipping my tits out of a bra that they were dying for me to return to my less boobified roommate. I did discover that D cup titties stuffed into a B cup bra seems to do wonders for a variety of cock owners, which was doing wonders for my self esteem. For the first time, I felt in control of my sexuality. Being able to turn a cock on and off, even in public, made me feel like it was all about ME, instead of my “boyfreinds” cock. My thoughts turned to mangoes and tropical flora again, trying to remember the time I spent with Castillo, so I could eject the thoughts of Peter jacking off with his greasy hands. Normally the smell of grease and motorcycle parts strewn on the floor excited me, as winter in the past, had meant many days and nights of fucking and playing to stay warm. I missed Florida, I missed night walks on the beach and the warm sand between my toes. I miss my sweetest lover, a Dominican man that unfortunately belonged to someone else. Castillo was just too nice and it ( the beautiful nights of rum,sex, and sand) wasn't supposed to happen. I remember the way he kissed me, always making me feel like a goddess. So many nights we would walk on the beach after work and made love in the shadows of the fancy resort that emploted us but we could never afford to stay at ourselves. We talked about what if, as if, when we both know he had a c***d on the way with someone he didn't want to be with and I had a c***d with the Devil himself. He did the right thing and stayed with her and we did the wrong thing and fucked every night that we could in the sand. I was dripping at the thought of Castillo and the way he kissed my tits like they were some juicy fruit and he didn't want to waste any. I found myself with one hand discreetly on my breast, holding my nipple tight, and my other hand struggling to get under my skirt and in my panties without looking funny to the folks across the street who seemed to be looking my way. My fingers found my wet pussy and I could smell the horny remains of a day of cumming in my underpants. I thought about that beautiful man, and how we rolled in the sand effortlessly while his cock stayed hiding in my pussy until we were f***ed to go home to our self made prisons. I had a finger on my clit as I made little circles between my spread legs. I held my nipple tighter, trying not to get noticed, but needed more, as I imagined the way Castillo held my nipples in his mouth, not wanting to let go. I was a few gentle circles away from cumming when I heard Peters voice and the car door yank open. “What are ya doin” Mia?? I seen you rubbin that pussy...your thinkin' of me ain't chya?” he leaned over and I can tell that he had showered before exchanging his mechanic overalls for jeans and a sweatshirt. “I always knew you liked me Mia, your the only one who was really nice to me..your b*****rs don't like me, that's it right? Why ya don't want me ??” I thought about him desperately jerking off at the sight of my titties bouncing, and how I always felt sorry for him as the boys always teased him and he had a way with the girls that would make them run....”ya know Peter, I've had a rough day, and I'm kinda late... Let's just leave it be right now, OK?” My hand stunk of pussy and it surely wafted up his nose too. “Well, Mia, let me get this thing started and you can be on your way to breakin' hearts!” I suddenly felt sorry for Peter, thinking about the pain that Mark left me in, and the pain this man felt every time he got rejected or had to pay for anything remotely close to sex. I let Peter do his thing under the hood and silently rejoiced the moment he asked me to “turn it over!”. Unfortunate as it was, a diagnoses of a faulty alternater made me wonder what I would have to do to get my ride on the road … Peter sat down in the passenger seat and put his hand on my thigh . “Mia, I got that little Alfa Spider down there, I see ya looking at it..I'll put it on the road for ya...ya know this Volvo is just gonna start needin' shit left and right now...why don't chya let me do that for ya Mia? We can, ya know, try and work somethin' out?” I put my hand on his and let him down as gently as I could trying to protect the mans heart. “ Peter, I'm sorry but, I'm not over Mark, and maybe never will be, and now that Papa is gone I have no one too stay here for and I plan to move down to Florida, closer to my b*****rs.” His eyes were glued to my tits which were not staying in that bra. I wished I could click my heals together three times and be on that beach with that sweet Dominican cock making me forget the rest of the world. Mango juice, rum,, salt water, and Dominican cum. A cure for any ailment. Negotiations were made, Peter described his fantasies of having pictures of me, and I found myself bargaining for the little sports car. I knew Peter would resell the Volvo, and although it felt awful, I knew that he would do anything for me, with his foolish heart in the forefront. I was gonna get the Spider for a bunch of pictures and I car that was about to shit the bed... I already felt the cycle of betrayal coming around to bite me in the ass, which is what Peters first request for pictures was.... “I would like a 'poytrate' of ya ass Mia. I'm gonna frame it!” he blurted with a huge grin. I laughed at him as I imagined a framed portrait of my ass hanging over his bed while he stroked his cock, kneeling in prayer. “Oh Peter, you are such a funny guy...and I suppose you'll put my pictures in one of those photo albums?” I said, giggling. He leaned toward me and brushed his face on my tit and then looked right into my eyes and said “I'm gonna have to Mia, so I don't get cum on them every night....” There was something very wicked about the way he said it, and I reached for the door handle. “Your gonna do this for me Mia, right? Let me take pictures??” he said as he put his hand on my leg far enough to touch my panties and reach for some of the juice he was surely smelling. I firmly put my hand on his and pushed it on to his own leg and whispered in his ear “I'll let you take pictures, Peter, but if you ever touch me again, I will slit your throat in your sl**p.” We exchanged mutual Sicilian smiles and he knew his place. Peter knew I wasn't k**ding and that my families ties came with protection that stored it's victims at the bottom of the Hudson. In control again! I loved that Alfa and immediately put Castillo in the passenger seat and went home to hug my pillow and hump it. At that point, I lost the control that I thought I had, while dreaming of brown skin and sand... and a little more than fruit juice....