As I'm reminded to be Mario, the diplomaed bricklayer from another story I share with you. My family consists of my parents and three sisters, Andrea, Silvana, Mariela; I'm the youngest, my old man is a career military officer and as strict as they come, even when it comes to picking up after himself. Being the only son of a military family, you'd think your destiny was set in stone, but I decided not to attend military school and instead study a career at university, which my old man didn't take kindly to. So, I enrolled in the local public university to study computer science, but by mid-year, I knew it wasn't for me. When I announced my decision to drop out, things got ugly; my old man was already disappointed, and we had a huge fight, with some harsh words exchanged. My mom and sisters were crying, I grabbed a backpack with some clothes and a few belongings, some savings, and hit the streets in June, with a chilly wind biting at me. In my unjustified anger, I recalled my old man's words during our heated discussion: You think you're so grown up, arguing with the one who feeds you, the one who gives you a warm bed, the one who pays for your education... we'll see if you can handle it for a week on your own. My wounded pride, in an irrational mood, more like my old man than I'd care to admit, decided to show him that I could handle it. I ended up in the neighboring province, working as a bricklayer's assistant, digging wells and collecting rubble; I was hungry, cold, dirty, and sometimes my clothes were torn. It took some time before I could sleep in a warm bed again... at the mercy of life's beatings, which my old man didn't give me and which I so rightly deserved. I learned to appreciate a mango in my pocket, a plate of food, but not as much as salami with thick slices and berreta. account that pride is good, but when it drives you, I continued to irrationally be angry with my old man, when all the mistakes were mine.
It was November of that year, and I already worked as a semi-official bricklayer in a company, renting a room with a private bathroom, almost a pigsty, but with much care and arrangements, it seemed habitable and easily five months had passed since I hadn't cleaned it... every time I think about it... I would arrive dead from work, take a bath, and sleep, and around that time I would wake up with my underwear half-hard and the typical stain, involuntarily some nights goats would escape, and sometimes life... as the famous Catalan said, almost by regulation, I would make myself masturbate, I lived in a state of mental chastity that hurts to recount and is hard to believe, with that attitude I didn't even get hooked on the thick wool sweater, passing through a field with barbed wire fences, nor did I dream of facing a cutie.
But everything changed one day, at the boarding house where I ate, where the food was served by a tiny, veteran, sick woman who had been replaced by a delicious 18-year-old girl, short, dark-haired, plump-faced, with dimples forming on her cheeks when she smiled, a special tone, an immigrant, who almost seemed odious, serving us, wearing large blouses and polleras like hiding, at first impression seemed like a chubby girl, but I emphasize first impression and can't explain why, but what got me hot and capable of not believing was her feet, always in sandals, which looked like empanadas from a novice cook, big, wide, thick toes, two colors, dark brown on top and white on the bottom, What's sexy about that? No idea, but for me it was mortal. She would approach with the plates, always very serious, two or three phrases in that tone, I would look at her plump cheeks and those fat feet, and my cock would stop, as short as a breath, as simple as the story.
There was no way to face her, not even a little bit of chat with at least 25 bricklayers eating, not even thinking about leaving, the thing is that one Saturday, end of pay period, I got paid, with some mangoes in my pocket, I went to eat, never went on a Saturday because like you finish work at noon and everyone goes home or sits down in a corner to spend their paycheck, left my bike at the entrance, didn't even tie it up, I'd say bici but that was just a piece of iron with two wheels, the seat was wood and I put a rag on it so it wouldn't hurt my butt and braked by leaning against the building's door in the street, had it like that on purpose, if you dared to put your handbrake on, they'd take it away. So we were sitting there, three crazy cats at a long table where thirty people sit, when she approached, looking different, smiling, and said -Don't leave your bike unattended, they'll take it away. That tone and that special way of talking, so captivating -I think the one who takes it away is the loser. And I got my first smile, two dimples on my cheeks, white teeth like cum, narrowed eyes that seemed to get even smaller -And don't be offended, but your bike is really ugly. -I'm not offended, I think you're just being nice by saying it's ugly, and you're being very good about it. And she gave me another wider smile while serving the menu, lentil stew with meat, soup with broth, and an orange, we chatted in a hurry as if we were going to never see each other again, told me her name was Marta, from Tarija, Bolivia, that she and her mom and older sister had come to work at a factory making clothes, and for now only her mom could work... she told me with desire to tell me, to get to know her, she'd smile at any silly thing I said. From my mental laziness of chastity, I turned into a fierce wolf capable of eating even the grandmothers, like in the story, between her tone and her chat, her feet warming me up, had the cock bonner and hadn't... neither touched, invite her to take an ice cream, taking advantage of the fact that in the last chat I told you she loves them beautifully without hesitation, accept, but she was just getting free at 16:30 hours, it was 13:30 hours - no matter, I'll wait for you. And in that unique and beautiful simplicity, I give her that excited smile, so special, that at least I think I know, that women often give us and if you know how to look at it, they've said everything. Those three hours seemed like three days, sitting on the front sidewalk waiting until she came, had taken off her apron and was wearing those wide polleras with multiple colors and a white blouse, well dressed, sat down on the bike rack and we were laughing, zigzagging with the bike, heading to the ice cream shop, with our legs open like a loom weaving, pedaling, first time so close to Marta, brushing against my legs her buttocks, supporting my chest on her back, a special smell, black hair like coal, long and tied in a wide braid that almost reached her waist, at the ice cream shop she ordered the smallest cup, I forced her to order one with two flavors and we sat down on a bench in a square, watching her eat and enjoy that ice cream as if it were a real banquet, I remember it like a caress to my soul and those conversations came and she was finding out about me, asking accusingly - what did you tell your wife so you're late today? - because you say it like that, if you think I have a woman, why did you leave with me today? - because I'm a fool, because it's going to be... And we laughed and at six o'clock in the evening we headed back to the room, taking advantage of just accusing me to find out about me, she would show me where I lived, in her game she was leading me to the slaughterhouse or letting herself be led, who knows jajaja doesn't matter, the topic was getting her into the room, then another topic. I remember again with enormous nostalgia and emotion, her sitting on the bike rack, me pedaling like a spider with diarrhea, of course and as it should be, the piece of bachelor, it was a mess of those, when we entered tried to hide, quickly arranging what could be, there was nothing dirty, in that sense quiet, but the bed unmade, clothes piled up on a chair having a wardrobe, that ridiculously had empty, the one with empty hangers and doors always open, she asked me to enter the bathroom and take advantage of adjusting things a bit more, when she came out, she started folding my clothes from the chair and putting them away in the empty wardrobe, I tried to refuse -men are all alike disorganized... -I invited some mates and she said she didn't drink, that's for gauchos was her phrase, but asked me to show her, put the kettle on, washed cups, plates, and other things piled up in the sink, while she almost ironed my clothes with her hands when folding and putting them away in order in my wardrobe, without even asking me where each thing went, afterwards she made the bed properly and sat down on it, while I was sitting in the chair, starting to teach her how to take mates. -your mom and sister are working? -they just got out of work on monday because they have to deliver a package on monday -but they sleep, eat, and work all day -yes, or else the boss gets angry -she said with resignation, even with a certain conformity, that's how slaves of this time think, trash of the world. -and what about you, staying alone until monday, (taking her hand) -yes, I answered, we live in a place similar to this one, the three of us, and since I can't work with them, I have to stay there. -and if you stay with me and let me take care of you -(moving closer) -no se -And I kissed her, like all first kisses, mix of fear, desire, tenderness, when embracing her, I couldn't help but say, that I was stunned, it was just clothes, when I felt her breasts on my chest, please, export melons, starting to undress her was like walking through a labyrinth, the blouse she had with a white fabric lining, hidden buttons, the colorful skirt wasn't one, they were three In one, when in my kisses and my clumsiness I could take everything out of her and see her in those old and big corsets and bombachas, it wasn't the chubby girl one thought, she was exuberant, the curves of her hips couldn't be explained, the little waist, a generous round ass like a well-placed coin, large melon-like breasts, dark skin almost brown, like when you get burned several times at the sun on vacation. She asked me to wait a second for the job to finish so she could untangle her hair, revealing an enormous mane that I don't know why seemed so beautiful to me. She took off the old corset, leaving her two enormous breasts in the air, unaware of the law of gravity, the dark and large aureoles of her nipples and large erect nipples, when she took off the bombachas almost too late, pussy well-hairy, black and long hairs like on her head, when I did all that, it wasn't a provocative attitude, it was like submissive, delivered... Sometimes in conversations, masons refer to them as easy, simple-minded, these beautiful women, when they choose you, zero hysterical and I said it right, it's not easy for them to choose. No idea how or when she undressed me, when I went to bed with her, she says in her simplicity, with that tone, with that special way of speaking they have... -Don't make a baby, not yet. I died of love, I died of her simplicity, I died of tenderness, revived by the heat, started kissing her from the neck, it's little wonder, I got excited by that wild woman smell, that skin that never knew creams or other herbs, had its skin a salty flavor and as I went along, it would get goosebumps with my grown beard and slightly rough tongue, when I grabbed her breasts, my jaw hurt from sucking so much, she just looked at me possessing her, I'd withdraw when in my clumsiness I made her hurt, she was like quiet, submissive, letting herself be possessed. arrive at the word: pussy hidden in that thick black hair forest, juicy like few, with almost black lips and put a blow job on the hot beast, there I would feel her moaning with desire, she liked being sucked, she liked having her labia bitten by my cock, she liked it when I passed my tongue over them, Marta was groaning loudly, she opened my legs wide and let me do what I wanted, what I wanted, what I wanted and wonderfully my cock in her feet, those feet that warmed me up so much, started caressing my cock, I don't know how to say it, mortal!!!!!! - already leave Mario, already leave, don't do it, come inside mine That tone, that way of speaking, when I penetrate her once, her pussy is tight, well hot, well moist, listening to her moan, feeling her warm body, her women-in-heat smell, her surrender, telling them to make it last... lie, five months since I didn't put it in, I think it wasn't more than five bombs, desperate I pulled my cock out of her pussy and ended with thick shots on her belly, in her black hair, something spilled over the side of her tits, I fell dead beside her, took her hand and kissed her, she stayed until Monday, they don't know and neither do I, how much I loved that woman.Munahuanquichu asks for Marta's woman.
It was November of that year, and I already worked as a semi-official bricklayer in a company, renting a room with a private bathroom, almost a pigsty, but with much care and arrangements, it seemed habitable and easily five months had passed since I hadn't cleaned it... every time I think about it... I would arrive dead from work, take a bath, and sleep, and around that time I would wake up with my underwear half-hard and the typical stain, involuntarily some nights goats would escape, and sometimes life... as the famous Catalan said, almost by regulation, I would make myself masturbate, I lived in a state of mental chastity that hurts to recount and is hard to believe, with that attitude I didn't even get hooked on the thick wool sweater, passing through a field with barbed wire fences, nor did I dream of facing a cutie.
But everything changed one day, at the boarding house where I ate, where the food was served by a tiny, veteran, sick woman who had been replaced by a delicious 18-year-old girl, short, dark-haired, plump-faced, with dimples forming on her cheeks when she smiled, a special tone, an immigrant, who almost seemed odious, serving us, wearing large blouses and polleras like hiding, at first impression seemed like a chubby girl, but I emphasize first impression and can't explain why, but what got me hot and capable of not believing was her feet, always in sandals, which looked like empanadas from a novice cook, big, wide, thick toes, two colors, dark brown on top and white on the bottom, What's sexy about that? No idea, but for me it was mortal. She would approach with the plates, always very serious, two or three phrases in that tone, I would look at her plump cheeks and those fat feet, and my cock would stop, as short as a breath, as simple as the story.
There was no way to face her, not even a little bit of chat with at least 25 bricklayers eating, not even thinking about leaving, the thing is that one Saturday, end of pay period, I got paid, with some mangoes in my pocket, I went to eat, never went on a Saturday because like you finish work at noon and everyone goes home or sits down in a corner to spend their paycheck, left my bike at the entrance, didn't even tie it up, I'd say bici but that was just a piece of iron with two wheels, the seat was wood and I put a rag on it so it wouldn't hurt my butt and braked by leaning against the building's door in the street, had it like that on purpose, if you dared to put your handbrake on, they'd take it away. So we were sitting there, three crazy cats at a long table where thirty people sit, when she approached, looking different, smiling, and said -Don't leave your bike unattended, they'll take it away. That tone and that special way of talking, so captivating -I think the one who takes it away is the loser. And I got my first smile, two dimples on my cheeks, white teeth like cum, narrowed eyes that seemed to get even smaller -And don't be offended, but your bike is really ugly. -I'm not offended, I think you're just being nice by saying it's ugly, and you're being very good about it. And she gave me another wider smile while serving the menu, lentil stew with meat, soup with broth, and an orange, we chatted in a hurry as if we were going to never see each other again, told me her name was Marta, from Tarija, Bolivia, that she and her mom and older sister had come to work at a factory making clothes, and for now only her mom could work... she told me with desire to tell me, to get to know her, she'd smile at any silly thing I said. From my mental laziness of chastity, I turned into a fierce wolf capable of eating even the grandmothers, like in the story, between her tone and her chat, her feet warming me up, had the cock bonner and hadn't... neither touched, invite her to take an ice cream, taking advantage of the fact that in the last chat I told you she loves them beautifully without hesitation, accept, but she was just getting free at 16:30 hours, it was 13:30 hours - no matter, I'll wait for you. And in that unique and beautiful simplicity, I give her that excited smile, so special, that at least I think I know, that women often give us and if you know how to look at it, they've said everything. Those three hours seemed like three days, sitting on the front sidewalk waiting until she came, had taken off her apron and was wearing those wide polleras with multiple colors and a white blouse, well dressed, sat down on the bike rack and we were laughing, zigzagging with the bike, heading to the ice cream shop, with our legs open like a loom weaving, pedaling, first time so close to Marta, brushing against my legs her buttocks, supporting my chest on her back, a special smell, black hair like coal, long and tied in a wide braid that almost reached her waist, at the ice cream shop she ordered the smallest cup, I forced her to order one with two flavors and we sat down on a bench in a square, watching her eat and enjoy that ice cream as if it were a real banquet, I remember it like a caress to my soul and those conversations came and she was finding out about me, asking accusingly - what did you tell your wife so you're late today? - because you say it like that, if you think I have a woman, why did you leave with me today? - because I'm a fool, because it's going to be... And we laughed and at six o'clock in the evening we headed back to the room, taking advantage of just accusing me to find out about me, she would show me where I lived, in her game she was leading me to the slaughterhouse or letting herself be led, who knows jajaja doesn't matter, the topic was getting her into the room, then another topic. I remember again with enormous nostalgia and emotion, her sitting on the bike rack, me pedaling like a spider with diarrhea, of course and as it should be, the piece of bachelor, it was a mess of those, when we entered tried to hide, quickly arranging what could be, there was nothing dirty, in that sense quiet, but the bed unmade, clothes piled up on a chair having a wardrobe, that ridiculously had empty, the one with empty hangers and doors always open, she asked me to enter the bathroom and take advantage of adjusting things a bit more, when she came out, she started folding my clothes from the chair and putting them away in the empty wardrobe, I tried to refuse -men are all alike disorganized... -I invited some mates and she said she didn't drink, that's for gauchos was her phrase, but asked me to show her, put the kettle on, washed cups, plates, and other things piled up in the sink, while she almost ironed my clothes with her hands when folding and putting them away in order in my wardrobe, without even asking me where each thing went, afterwards she made the bed properly and sat down on it, while I was sitting in the chair, starting to teach her how to take mates. -your mom and sister are working? -they just got out of work on monday because they have to deliver a package on monday -but they sleep, eat, and work all day -yes, or else the boss gets angry -she said with resignation, even with a certain conformity, that's how slaves of this time think, trash of the world. -and what about you, staying alone until monday, (taking her hand) -yes, I answered, we live in a place similar to this one, the three of us, and since I can't work with them, I have to stay there. -and if you stay with me and let me take care of you -(moving closer) -no se -And I kissed her, like all first kisses, mix of fear, desire, tenderness, when embracing her, I couldn't help but say, that I was stunned, it was just clothes, when I felt her breasts on my chest, please, export melons, starting to undress her was like walking through a labyrinth, the blouse she had with a white fabric lining, hidden buttons, the colorful skirt wasn't one, they were three In one, when in my kisses and my clumsiness I could take everything out of her and see her in those old and big corsets and bombachas, it wasn't the chubby girl one thought, she was exuberant, the curves of her hips couldn't be explained, the little waist, a generous round ass like a well-placed coin, large melon-like breasts, dark skin almost brown, like when you get burned several times at the sun on vacation. She asked me to wait a second for the job to finish so she could untangle her hair, revealing an enormous mane that I don't know why seemed so beautiful to me. She took off the old corset, leaving her two enormous breasts in the air, unaware of the law of gravity, the dark and large aureoles of her nipples and large erect nipples, when she took off the bombachas almost too late, pussy well-hairy, black and long hairs like on her head, when I did all that, it wasn't a provocative attitude, it was like submissive, delivered... Sometimes in conversations, masons refer to them as easy, simple-minded, these beautiful women, when they choose you, zero hysterical and I said it right, it's not easy for them to choose. No idea how or when she undressed me, when I went to bed with her, she says in her simplicity, with that tone, with that special way of speaking they have... -Don't make a baby, not yet. I died of love, I died of her simplicity, I died of tenderness, revived by the heat, started kissing her from the neck, it's little wonder, I got excited by that wild woman smell, that skin that never knew creams or other herbs, had its skin a salty flavor and as I went along, it would get goosebumps with my grown beard and slightly rough tongue, when I grabbed her breasts, my jaw hurt from sucking so much, she just looked at me possessing her, I'd withdraw when in my clumsiness I made her hurt, she was like quiet, submissive, letting herself be possessed. arrive at the word: pussy hidden in that thick black hair forest, juicy like few, with almost black lips and put a blow job on the hot beast, there I would feel her moaning with desire, she liked being sucked, she liked having her labia bitten by my cock, she liked it when I passed my tongue over them, Marta was groaning loudly, she opened my legs wide and let me do what I wanted, what I wanted, what I wanted and wonderfully my cock in her feet, those feet that warmed me up so much, started caressing my cock, I don't know how to say it, mortal!!!!!! - already leave Mario, already leave, don't do it, come inside mine That tone, that way of speaking, when I penetrate her once, her pussy is tight, well hot, well moist, listening to her moan, feeling her warm body, her women-in-heat smell, her surrender, telling them to make it last... lie, five months since I didn't put it in, I think it wasn't more than five bombs, desperate I pulled my cock out of her pussy and ended with thick shots on her belly, in her black hair, something spilled over the side of her tits, I fell dead beside her, took her hand and kissed her, she stayed until Monday, they don't know and neither do I, how much I loved that woman.Munahuanquichu asks for Marta's woman.
1 comentários - Cuentos para un albañil, Marta.