Catalina
- 3 years ago
- 17
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Catalina Love free porn video
She stood only four feet nine to my six-foot four-inch self. I think that placed her head just under my right breast whenever we would casually hug. She probably weighted more than 98 pounds wet. I first met Catalina when she was the manager of a local eatery. She was from Guanajuato, Mexican and she was a ball of fire. She had been in the United States for almost twenty years and while she spoke English, she had not yet mastered the language, which didn't bother me in the least bit. Some things, transcend the language barrier.
When we first met, our greeting was very professional like- nothing personal. It was an informal greeting, as greetings go, and Catalina probably didn't pay much attention to me, since I was an older “gringo” and she was Mexican.
After a few visits to the restaurant, I learned Catalina had three kids. It didn't’t surprise me since she was strikingly beautiful and what guy wouldn't want to have a boat load of kids by a beautiful Latina? What really surprised me was finding out she was much closer to my middle thirties than I had suspected, especially since Catalina looked so young.
Catalina was married. Her husband was a warehouse worker and worked a second job at the local school district to help make ends meet. A lot of the money they made, they sent back to Mexico to help care for Catalina’s mother and three younger sisters.
Every time I visited the restaurant, I leaned something new about Catalina. One day, I mistakenly refereed to Catalina as “Cat.”
“I am Catalina,” she replied straight forwardly. “A cat is an animal. People call me a Pussy Cat. I am not a Pussy cat. I have a pussy, but I am a tiger.”
I quickly apologized.
Catalina smiled.
“I bet you never met a pussy that is like a tiger.”
Her broken English made me smile.
“Catalina,” I replied, “You know that the term ‘pussy’ has a sexual connotation, right?”
Catalina smiled and replied.
“Yes,” she replied. “I know.”
I still wasn't’ convinced she really understood what she had said, but I didn't feel like it was my place to try and set her straight, so I didn't’ press things.
About a week went by and after ordering a take-out meal at the restaurant, Catalina stepped over to the booth where I was seated, waiting on my takeout order to go. She slipped on to the bench seat next to me. The restaurant was empty, so I didn't’t think much about her joining me at the table.
“I saw you the other day,” Catalina said. “You were taking photos very close to where I live on Smith Street by the El Ranchero.”
I told her I had seen a tree I wanted to photograph for a photography class I was teaching at the local community college.
“Oh, I did not know you were a photographer,” Catalina replied. I showed her some of my phonography work on my cell phone.
“Can you take my picture?” she asked.
“Sure,” I replied. “Any time.”
“Come by my house on Smith on Thursday,” Catalina instructed. “You can take my photo.”
I didn't give much thought to Catalina’s request. People ask me all the time to take their picture when they find out I am a photographer. So, I didn't bother to follow up and stop by Catalina’s house.
The very next time I went into to grab a bite to eat, Catalina cornered me and demanded to know why I had stood her up. She stood with her hands on her hips, acting as though she was due an answer.
I apologized.
“Remember,” Catalina replied, “I am a pussy . . .and I am a tiger.”
I laughed.
“You laugh,” she replied. “But you must remember that.”
So, on the following Thursday, I pulled up to a small wood framed house on Smith Street and walked up the short sidewalk to the front door of a one-story frame house on the east side. I knocked on the door and Catalina appeared behind the screen door. She sported a mid-thigh length t-shirt and sandals. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail.
She cracked open the screen door and invited me in.
“I am so happy,” she began, “you did not forget me.”
She stretched out her arms and we hugged briefly- a tradition in Mexico, amongst family and friends, only Catalina lingered for a second or so longer than usual.
“You are a tall man,” Catalina remarked. She took a step back. “I should hug you like this…”
Catalina catapulted across the floor, flinging herself on to me, her arms grabbing my shoulders as she wrapped her legs around me.
“This is a better hug, no?” she asked.
I grabbed her buttocks and held on to her.
“Yes,” I replied. I lowered Catalina to the floor in front of me.
Catalina apologized for being so short.
“Good things,” I replied, “come in small packages.”
“I am a good thing,” Catalina replied with a wry smile. She glanced at my crotch and then back up at me.
“You are a good thing, too, no?” she asked.
“You are a tease,” I replied.
“Nooo,” Catalina replied, drawing out her response and pulling at the rubber band that held her long black hair in place. Her hair fell softly across her shoulders. “I am not a tease.”
“Really,” I replied back, “Where are your shorts?”
Catalina blushed and turned red.
“Que?” she shot back, in Spanish, as she bunched up her over-sized t-shirt and tied it in a knot on her hip. “You don’t like my comfortable look?”
“Yes, I do,” I laughingly replied. “I’m just not used to seeing you so . . . very casually . . attired.”
“I am not tired,” Catalina replied.
“Attired,” I repeated.
“Nooooo,” Catalina replied, “I am not tired.”
“Where is your camera?” Catalina asked.
“I have my phone,” I told her. My iPhone was my camera of choice.
“Great!” Catalina. “Take my picture!”
I took out my iPhone and quickly snapped a photo.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Catalina exclaimed. “I want to pose and you take my photo.”
Catalina positioned herself on her couch, propping herself up with pillows and pulling her long black hair forward over her shoulder. I quickly snapped some photos as Catalina struck several different poses.
“Very sexy,” I told her.
“Sexy is good, no?” she asked.
“Yes,” I told her.
Catalina pulled on the knot to her t-shirt and bunched it up under her breasts, exposing her flat abdomen and her lower torso. She sported a lacy black pair of panties, which she quickly readjusted.
“Do you like them?” Catalina asked as she teasingly readjusted her panties.
“Yes,” I told her.
“Can I take them off?” she asked.
“Sure,” I replied.
She slipped out of her panties and tossed them on to the coffee table. Oh- MY-Gawd!
“I am happy that I shaved,” Catalina mused, as she rubbed her pubic region with her open palm. She then silently slipped her t-shirt over her head and tossed it on to the coffee table. She was now completely nude.
“So, what do you think?” Catalina asked as she pinched her nipples, which were perched on top of dark areolas on top of her small round perky breasts.
“Very sexy,” I replied.
Catalina pulled her long black hair forward on over her shoulders. She bit down on her lower lip and smiled. She had an aurora of sexiness that could not and would not be denied.
“Do you want to make love to me?” she demurely asked.
“I would love to,” I replied, pulling my shirt from my trousers. Catalina sprang to her feet and helped me to get undressed. She didn't’t disappoint in the least bit. She was incredibly sexy, lascivious and every bit the tiger she proclaimed to be.
We engaged in quite a bit of oral stimulation, which she seemed to really enjoy. Her tongue could do the most wicked things and she more than enjoyed my reciprocal touches. Her vagina was a work of art, sweet and fresh and very receptive to oral stimulation. She had to beg me to stop, because she couldn't’t hold back the inevitable.
When she finally mounted my pole, she rode me like a wild woman, totally uninhibited and unbridled. She exploded like a firecracker, with a passion that only a strong-willed Latina could bring to the table. I filled her with everything I had to give and then some.
As we lay on her bed, tired and exhausted, she confided that she had long thought about a day like this. We both were married, and both of us loved our spouses, no doubt, but for one, brief, moment, it was as through both of us had found a renewed appreciation for sex that neither of us had managed to find in our own unions.
I knew and she knew, that neither of us would ever leave our marriages, but we also knew, that having a little fun, on occasion, would probably make each of us have a deeper appreciation for what we had at home. She was completely right in that regard.
Love is a funny thing, and sometimes, it takes many different forms. Catalina and I only hooked up a few more times and we never told anyone about our short affair. Today, whenever we cross paths, our hugs are a genuine reflection of a true friendship, one that is not sexual in nature, but one that is derived out of a mutual respect for each other.
Marisol
- 04.11.2021
- 37
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- Cheating
