CHAPTER 1Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah...
Yolanda erupted in a laugh at the last animalada of her friend Verónica, the small-peached girl with flushed cheeks, white skin and curly brown hair that always made her laugh since they studied together at ADE.
Come on girl don't tell me it's not true.
Veronica insisted on her comment.
Yes, yes, yes, maybe, maybe, baby, maybe, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Yolanda was answering while laughing out loud.
I'm telling you again that what's in Mercedes' head is her husband's pubic hair, which his hairstylist told me, it's so black and curly, it can't be from anywhere else.
Repeating happily Vera whispering on the patio of that bar.
Yes, yes, yes, yes...for little girl...that makes me laugh to death....yes, yes, yes.
Yolanda answered between laughs that were choking her.
Okay, okay, you're right they look like pubic hair but don't say it so much that she'll get mad when she finds out, ha ha ha.
Yolanda smiled as always.
Yolanda had a cheerful and jovial character, always giving you a smile whenever she could. It was very hard to catch her in a bad mood or with a depressed state of mind, and her smile was one of her best attractions. A perfect smile with white and shiny teeth, perfectly aligned, wide and precious, a smile between that of a flirtatious woman and an intelligent woman very aware of her beauty.
Because Yolanda was a woman with a flag, a thickset one, a tall woman of 1.71 meters in height, she had played volleyball in adolescence, but her body was more like voluptuous, with firm curves where they slipped from the parents to the referees.
She was pretty enough to drive you mad, but outside the canons of models with angelic faces and blue eyes, she was a brunette Mediterranean beauty, perfect in every way, who could go unnoticed in a Mediterranean country, especially if she wasn't made up and didn't catch your eye, with a slightly oval face, finished off by a rounded and pointed chin, delicious menton, perfect strawberry lips and appetizing, with that sly smile of a precious little tart, two perfect cheekbones, an harmonic nose, narrow on the sides, rounded, puffy and small at the tip, very dark brown eyes, lively and bright, very expressive, black thin and fine eyebrows, long and extremely fine eyelashes.
She had dark chestnut hair that sometimes turned intense black, soft, smooth, shiny, long, with ends exceeding half the back, coming from a middle line on her head and falling over her shoulders and back after making a slight curve over her forehead. It was smooth, shiny, and soft, but if it wasn't ironed extra, the hair was 80% straight but tended to wavy at the ends.
Tall and slender, with beautiful Greek feet, perfectly cared for, and hairy, with long legs of twins and full and dark thighs, a natural divine ass, bouncing and round like a target, that only with an open hand completely from a man could hold each cheek, each turgid, soft and fleshy cheek, which Yolanda maintained without a millimeter of cellulite or orange peel, pounding it daily for two hours on the elliptical machine she had at home, doing five hundred abdominal exercises every day and a thousand on weekends, which gave her a firm and defined belly, whose navel adorned occasionally with a piercing.
Wonderful rounded hips, profiled in a narrow waist, a balanced body, with well-defined arms, ending in delicate hands, with fine and precious fingers, with short nails, painted to match her clothes and makeup or French manicure. And perfect and wonderful natural breasts of size E, like two Galia melons, which fell in the shape of tears towards the sides, leaving a large channel in the center, rounded with two large and rugose dark areolas in the center and two enormous brown nipples, enormous, larger than normal, on the left next to it a tiny sexy wart, almost impossible to conceal even with bras and wonderbras.
Her skin was white, but with a wonderful brownish-gray tone, and as soon as she started taking sun, she would bronze intensely, like a good Mediterranean goddess, when she wanted to, knew how to move graciously, like an antelope, extremely feminine and sexy.
- And what about it, are you already sleeping apart like retired couples, Vicente and you?
I Ask True with a Ringing.
So if yes, I already told you that sleep apnea, that infernal machine, is impossible to sleep together, so he's in his room and I'm in mine.
Yolanda responded serene and smiling.
Daughter, and when do you want to get fucked, like the old kings, the master visits your bedroom...hahaha.
I mockingly question Veronica.
Okay, so yes, one out of every four days, it comes and sucks my tits and jerks off in less than a minute, panting like a fish out of water, and then I jerk off with a vibrator in the shower.
I respond as Yolanda, smiling between sarcastic and playful.
Damn daughter and I thought I was bad.
Veronica responded skeptically.
Well, it's not that bad, could be worse, I live in a big house with a pool, drive a nice car, have an amazing pension plan, a golden visa, there's no whim I can't satisfy, for example, my taste for collecting expensive lingerie or jewelry. What more can I ask for, besides who has screwed more than me.
Yolanda returned with a response, smiling with her marvelous and seductive smile.
Yes, yes, you're going to tell me, if I was always with you, eating your crumbs...hahaha.
She responded with a smirk, Veronica.
Because you were the queen of the night, haha, I still dream sometimes about how many times I could find the car where you were screwing, by the screams you were yelling, foxy girl, ha, ha, ha...
I'm going to exclaim next with laughter, Veró.
Ah, ah, ah...what a bitch, how do you like me putting it in your face bad pig...hahahaha.
Yolanda responded with a smile between laughs, although a tone of melancholy was drawn in her eyes.
The truth is that Yolanda had been a horny and promiscuous slut without control until she married Vicente about three years ago.
After catching her boyfriend of her whole life cheating on him one night, a year after graduating from college, Yolanda had renounced romantic love, she said to herself. From a working-class family, in a provincial city on the Mediterranean coast, after graduating from college she started working for an insurance company as a saleswoman, a hard job, you sell so much, you earn so much.
So she always tried to have boyfriends with good pockets, it didn't cost her much, she was expert at showing off her seductive attributes, which combined with her charm and outgoing and open character made her irresistible. Her rich boyfriends complemented her salary and allowed her to pay for her whims. But as soon as she could, she would go out with Veronica, her university friend who always had no boyfriend and a very loose morality, she would drink two or three cubatas, and give anyone the opportunity to fuck with her, she had a very low threshold, all she asked was that they make her laugh and not have prejudices, even if they were the ugliest men in the world, thus going out with her discovered her fondness for threesomes, and if she could fuck four guys at once, better.
It was a teacher moving her hips during penetrations, dilating her ass, she loved submitting men to her pleasure with her long and detailed fellatio, and with her outgoing, fun, and friendly character, making the men lose their shyness and fuck her mercilessly, devouring her tits, with her clitoris being the most sensitive point of her body, there wasn't a guy who could resist sucking and licking them and getting a good Cuban with them.
Moreover, she had a unique and supersexy physical anomaly, if you managed to excite and stimulate her nipples with lips and hands, they would slightly swell and give sweet and warm cum, it only lasted for 24 hours and had no secondary or harmful effects, but it gave Yolanda an spectacular pleasure that made them milk and suck her cum, and her lovers went crazy with lust.
This way, when her boyfriend left her because he was tired of her excuses or caught her cheating, she would look for another young guy and keep up the hedonistic pace. But time passed, and even Veronica had gotten a formal boyfriend, and stopped fucking like a madwoman, being close to thirty and although she was better looking and curvier than when she was twenty years old, single rich kids started to be too young and didn't get it. She wasn't doing badly as an insurance agent, never mixing sex with work, something her colleagues and clients regretted because dressed in a suit with tube skirts, fitted blouses, silk shirts, slit skirts, transparent silk stockings with laces, and high heels, she was a spectacle, if you added her smile and charming nature, open, positive, and extroverted, everyone went crazy to screw her. But for her that was an inviolable border.
This was how things were when she met Vicente, the owner of a motor company with an exclusive German patent for Spain, introduced to her by one of his clients, and Vicente, who was over twenty years older than her, started drooling over her scandalously, still married but Yolanda valued the situation coldly and screwed him in a restaurant bathroom on a work lunch date, giving him the best blow job of his life, but didn't let him come where he wanted or get inside. Vicente, bald, awkward, and standard-sized dick, went crazy but Yolanda didn't answer his phone for a week, and when she finally answered between tears, asked him not to call her again, saying she had fallen in love and he was married. What a liar, the very foxy, nice, and cheerful one.
The uncle kept insisting that he was also in love, but Yolanda saw him again once more, dressed spectacularly highlighting all the curves of her figure, but she didn't let him touch a single hair, the only way to have her was by divorcing and marrying her.
Said and done, express divorce from his wrinkled wife at the end of her forties, and he planted himself to marry Yolanda, who was already rubbing her hands when the wedding day arrived at the courthouse, Vicente's lawyer forced her to accept the separation of assets regime with a bunch of marital concessions, total if she was so in love, that would be an insignificant detail, this way she got a husband who would keep her, but exposing herself to a divorce with one hand behind and the other ahead, if they divorced due to her infidelity.
It had been a costly life insurance policy, especially for Yolanda's lifestyle and her overflowing and joyful sexual appetite.
More than three years had passed since then, of course, Vicente's pathetic limp was barely able to satisfy that Mediterranean goddess with impressive curves, even though he used to screw her day in, day out at first because she drove him crazy with desire, but never was a marvel, now over fifty years old and with apnea and other problems couldn't withstand half an assault.
Yolanda had just turned thirty-three and was better looking than ever, nature had been generous to her, adding her taste for sports, so her body remained well-maintained. But perhaps by reducing her sexual activity and watching the calendar leaves pass, Yoli started thinking about taking care of herself even more. She had managed to get Vicente to give up having children with her, she didn't interest him in the slightest, and besides he already had a daughter from his second wife.
The matter was that he had bought an elliptical trainer and put it in his house with pool and garden, and every day he would do two hours of it religiously, besides signing up for all the classes he could with Vero, pilates, spinning, zumba, to which he added his daily abdominal sessions and after toning his body, he would cover it with the best oils and creams on the market, so that his skin was smooth and firm like porcelain, without a single hair on his legs and a precious Brazilian wax in the shape of a triangle above his pubic area.
Well, it's time for you to come back with your twins, I'm sure Luis is going crazy. And I'll be coming home, because Belén, the silly one, is coming to spend this week with us.
Yolanda said with a neutral voice to the bartender at that nearby bar near her house where she usually went with friends or Vicente. - Oh for crying out loud, after more than three years, you're still like this with her, how can someone be so unbearable as that girl? The truth is, you're a saint, you've swallowed all the girl's adolescence, what a telitaaaa...and now at seventeen she's still a pain in the butt.
I'm Vero, gasping irritably at her friend's life.
It's nothing, dear. It's normal for the girl to blame me for her parents' breakup, besides, she has someone to imitate, if you add that she's a daddy's girl, spoiled and poorly raised, it can't be otherwise. Anyway, now she has a boyfriend and although she remains just as unbearable as always, at least she spends less time with us and more with her boyfriend.
Yolanda replied without stopping smiling.
So the little brat of a harpy has hooked up with someone, poor unfortunate guy in the hands of that girl...haha.
I exclaim with mockery Veronica.
Two coffees and a tonic, three with seventy-five.
A young waiter with dimples and sandy-blond hair brought the bill.
Come this time, I'll pay you what I owe you. Have a five-dollar bill, keep the change, thanks.
Yolanda responded by tossing her precious hair behind her ear in a sensual and feminine way, smiling at the waiter and extending with her delicate hand a five-dollar bill.
The boy was like frozen, smiling like a goofball, not moving a finger with his eyes fixed on the channel of Yolanda's tits, trying to see more of that succulent dish.
Yolanda was wearing a provocative outfit, as she liked to choose when and how to show her attractions. She wore a normal, non-adjustable cowboy pant, casual mid-heeled shoes that accentuated her perfect and turgid buttocks, drawing their shapes spectacularly on the jeans. On top, a blue cotton T-shirt with a round neckline that only showed the upper part of her cleavage. Her precious E-cup breasts were enhanced in a lycra blue wonderbra, preventing her extremely large nipples from marking the T-shirt. She wasn't even wearing makeup, but her perfect smile and that body would seduce Zeus himself.
Hey good-looking! ... Take my ticket or I'll leave making a 'sinpa', haha...
Yolanda responded with a cheerful and friendly smile as always, not stopping to smile while showing her teeth, at the same time moving her shoulders lightly, to provoke the boy with the swinging of her magnificent natural melons.
Ohh...yeah...yeah...sorry, sorry.
The boy responded by opening his eyes like plates, while taking the ticket and placing himself behind the table with a foolish face.
Hahaha...
Veronica was laughing at the boy.
While Yolanda slowly got up and walked one foot in front of the other, sensually as only she knew how, showing off her magnificent round ass to the boy.
Ha ha... who had, held... ha ha... tonight you'll be the dream of that boy's wanks...
Vero was twisting with malevolent laughter, accompanying Yolanda to the car.
Haha... genius and figure until the burial... haha
Yolanda responded with a cheerful and happy smile, throwing her head back, waving her precious and sensual mane of hair in the air.
To be with the kid was unbearable. At first it had been really terrible, the girl with custody divided between the father and mother, spending a week in each house, was a fury, the connecting link of the mother's hatred and resentment betrayed.
Yolanda understood it and her comprehension was extreme, due to her load of conscience and feeling of guilt, but this fury joined the stupidity and bad upbringing of the girl, who was the right eye of Vicente, who let her get away with everything.
So those years, Yolanda had agreed that he could call her 'lucky charm', 'dead of hunger' and even 'slut' when things got out of hand and she was only thirteen years old.
But although he had moderated the language, not so the treatment and lack of respect, and it was already a long time since Yolanda had lost the sense of guilt.
This food is crap, like everything you always cook, for being a servant family, you cook badly.
The little girl was saying that the cock sat at her stepmother's table.
Belén darling, this food, I didn't cook it myself, we ordered it through Deliveroo, and all professions are equally deserving.
Yolanda answered without stopping to show her most charming smile, filled with patience.
That's not true, as my dad says, the poor are poor because they deserve it, they're a scum that doesn't deserve anything, like the food you cook, it's scum.
The haughty and arrogant girl replied, filled with class hatred, spoiled by her conservative right-wing parents, as it couldn't be otherwise.
Yolanda preferred not to continue the conversation and laughed while looking away, as Vicente her husband, bald, ugly, old, and awkward, smiled dazedly at his daughter and let her insult and disrespect his wife once again.
Dad, truth.
The little girl was a cock and capricious.
If my daughter, those damn reds, dirty Spain, few people would have been taken care of by Franco, he should have cleaned this country of that scum and we would be without problems.
He responded with the same hatred, the wealthy right-winger.
Yolanda never lost her composure, nor her seductive and precious smile, having already decided to avoid letting the crap of others spoil her life the slightest bit for many years. But bearing that mountain of crap was becoming increasingly unbearable to her.
I had managed to get her and Vicente to sleep in separate rooms, amidst snoring and a greasy and foul-smelling skin, the cohabitation in the bedroom had been a torment for Yolanda, who had endured it with her good humor, but everything has its limit, besides the lack of sexual satisfaction, living with Vicente was repulsive, all because of that dirty status.
That was the best part of that convenience marriage, it had a complete room, which served as a closet. It had two six-drawer dressers, one of them completely full of expensive and precious jewelry, she loved wearing hoop earrings, eye-catching and sexy, rings, various bracelets, necklaces, and chains all matching, rings for the toes and ankle chains. The other dresser was filled with lingerie in its six drawers, it was a compulsive buyer of lingerie, only used Brazilian thongs and bras of all colors and patterns and above its Wonderbras matching E cup size, corsets of all types, transparent stockings, spectacular slips, mesh stockings, erotic lingerie sets, transparent bed jumps, an authentic dream, which unfortunately could only be shown off to her husband's crap, Vicente.
Another closet was only filled with shelves stacked with shoes, summer wedges, high-heeled summer and winter shoes, boots, ankle boots, sandals, sports socks, and low-heeled shoes.
In another closet he kept his perfect jacket suits, his silk blouses and shirts in different colors, elegant and sexy at the same time.
The climate on the Mediterranean coast was very favorable for light clothing, but Yolanda was particularly elegant, only until extreme heat arrived when she wore stockings and lightweight dresses, and at home, when expecting a visit or thinking of going out, good weather days usually went with beautiful one-piece dresses with the skirt part reaching above her knees on her beautiful and sculptural long legs, dresses with beautiful prints or single-color ones, in most cases with straps or short sleeves, with round necklines or V-necks, but always containing and accentuating her extraordinary and prominent breasts with large nipples. For colder days or for dressing more casually, she wore jeans, loose or fitted, leggings, tights, nice blouses, even loose shirts and sweatshirts.
It was Yolanda's pleasure to control where and who she would hint or show part of her spectacular and massive body with firm curves. So if she wanted to, she could dress in a way that her body wouldn't suggest or provoke at all, hiding her spectacular, defined, and firm curves under loose clothing.
Her clothes, her boyfriend, her current account, her air-conditioned pool and her garden at first seemed sufficient, at first. Now every day cost her more to bear her husband and her spoiled daughter, despite never seeing her in a bad mood and always wearing a beautiful smile and a kind word for the whole world, which multiplied by 100 the desire that Mediterranean goddess awakened.
When she could, she always avoided Belén, even talking to her, something very difficult especially living with her sometimes yes, sometimes no.
As two animals marking territory, Belén had forbidden the screams from entering her room or touching anything of hers, Yolanda had demanded such reciprocity. She had been waiting over three years for Vicente to notice that little girl, but it was always she who got scolded instead, the matter was easy for Vicente, she was his only daughter, and Yolanda never wanted to have children with him, and in fact Yoli took all the prescribed contraceptives. And with that argument, she saw her dignity systematically dragged through the mud by that teenage girl.
For the cheerful, pleasant, smiling, and positive temperament of Yolanda, it was almost impossible for her to hate him, but she detested the girl, and her husband Vicente only tolerated him.
With the arrival of that 'boyfriend', Yolanda had thought that things would relax, or at least Belén would spend more time with the guy, or that she would mature or you know what to say.
But he kept insulting and disrespecting Yolanda in any circumstance or place, even in front of the kid, who always tried to reconcile, smiling like an idiot and trying to downplay the comments from the disgusting little girl.
The boy was nineteen to twenty years old, Yolanda didn't care, neither how, nor where, nor when her stepdaughter had met him. His name was Sergio, he was a spoiled kid, who wanted to give the impression of being bad, with an earring and a tattoo, he was in his first year of law school, although he pretended not to have passed any exams, and also pretended to have a lot of sexual experience.
All these bravado acts weren't done in front of Yolanda's husband. Vicente had gotten very bad humor when he met the boy until he knew his family had some kind of business, despite this, he had set very strict rules for the relationship. Belén had to be home by midnight, no alcohol for Belén and always locatable, Vicente preferred that if they had to spend time together, they would do it in his house or at his mother's house when Belén was there, with Belén's room always open, of course... (That's what her ex agreed with Vicente on.)
In reality, to Vicente it seemed that Sergio was older, for Belen, Yolanda trusting that the boyfriend would make her mature, had defended the relationship from the beginning, then seeing that months were passing and Belen was still as detestable, she hadn't made the slightest effort in favor of the same, but Vicente already seemed resigned.
So the boy spent many idle hours with them, especially on weekends.
As something had to do with Bethlehem, she had avoided relating to the boy in the slightest, the boy didn't awaken any interest in her, everything was just teenage bravado, that boy with a coarse face, scrawny legs and a flabby body, without apparent social skills, was of all things less attractive, but she couldn't help sharing some spaces of the house with them, the kitchen, living rooms with sofa and TV, the pool with the patio and garden.
By then, just a few weeks after his unbearable stepsister brought him home, Yoli realized that the boy was staring at her with hunger.
She clearly hadn't noticed at first. She would arrive home dressed in her work outfits, with her tube skirt hems grazing the edges of her knees, her fitted mini skirts leaving half of her firm and sculpted thighs visible, drawing attention to her perfect round butt, very high up, raised by her matching high heels, transparent silk stockings showcasing her extremely long and perfect legs, her Wonderbras accentuating her rounded breasts, through the rounded or pointed necklines of her satin blouses, her white blouses and short three-button jackets, and perfectly and irresistibly made-up, with precious earrings, bracelets, rings, chains, and her wonderful smile always on her lips, and the boy thought he was in front of an apparition, a Mediterranean Playboy goddess, a porn superstar.
After she would put on her elegant one-piece dresses to stay at home, with comfortable high heels that continued to accentuate her magnificent and prominent buttocks, gathering her melons and exalting them, as if offering them. She was so flirtatious that she never removed her makeup until she showered before going to bed (she usually showered before sleeping and when getting up in the morning) if she had to go out or receive someone, she always wanted to look stunning, with blush on her cheeks, curled and perfect eyelashes, straight and long mascara, a defect-free eyeliner line, dark shadows diffused in her eyes, and a moist and shiny red or magenta lip gloss. A sexy and monstrous appearance at the sight of any healthy male with active sexual appetite.
From the first day he saw her like that and was throwing dodgy glances of desire when his young girlfriend wasn't looking, observing with desire Yolanda's curves and trying to discover with anxiety more of that hot body that hinted at his girlfriend's stepmother.
Due to her extremely large and erect nipples, Yolanda used to wear cotton or another type of arrangement to conceal them, as neither Wonderbras could hide them and they were visible to the entire world, something that Yolanda was very meticulous about controlling.
That day there was a gray, humid, and somewhat cold sky; I hadn't expected to receive anyone or go anywhere, so Yolanda got comfortable, gathered her precious, shining, and long dark chestnut hair by folding it and pinning it with a hairpin, put on red Havaianas sandals on her delicate feet with painted red nails, each with a sexy silver ring on the second finger of the same hand, red fitted tights to match, a gray fitted top with short sleeves, without thinking much she took off her Wonderbra, leaving her large, spherical, prominent, and erect natural breasts that fell to the sides like tears in her shirt, with her extra-large nipples pointing forward like two arrow points.
At some point in the afternoon, she went into the living room with a magazine; the two boys were sitting on couches on one side of the room watching TV, Yolanda greeted them briefly and sat down on the sofa to her right, sitting with her legs folded over the sofa, endearingly sexy, stretching and contracting her long and sculptural legs, placing her hair in an arrestingly sensual way, with her fine and delicate short nails painted red, and with her enormous and wonderful globes drawing insinuatingly and clearly her enormous extra-large nipples.
The boy was good at hiding; it took Yolanda more than ten minutes to realize the anxiety he provoked and how he excused himself to get up, leave his teenage girlfriend, small-breasted, flat-chested, and rosy-skinned, and move around the room with his eyes fixed on Yolanda's nipples. Breasts she did with more subtlety, the boy was good, since the stupid and spoiled girl of Belén, I don't know had noticed...
CONTINUE
My stories are being deleted automatically I don't know why.
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stories of mother and son, milf, aunts, neighbors, mothers-in-law, voluptuous women. And every story keeps walking each month
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