The Girl With the Guns and Roses Tattoo
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2015 by Tony Sorrentino

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - My sudden trip to Colombia was prompted by a misunderstanding between my Puerto Rican friends and the Cuban wise guys who ran things down in Little Havana. Now I was stuck to Rosita like glue and loving every minute of it.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Spanking   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   Group Sex   Orgy   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Squirting   Water Sports   Cream Pie   Spitting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Tit-Fucking   Analingus   Big Breasts   Public Sex   Violent   Prostitution   Nudism  

She was one of those nubile females that made a living showing her body on video camera for perverts all over the world to ogle and bully if they could get away with it. It was a hard way to make a living and the disgrace that went along with it in the small town was enough to make her a creature to be avoided because she was a follower of the devil. It didn't seem like she and her friends could be making much money at it because most of the watchers just went along for a free ride and kept quiet in the shadows without tipping the girls to encourage them to do kinky acts that are much too depraved to recount in this story.

It seemed strange to me that girls would expose themselves to such humiliation willingly but I had the sense that it was completely voluntary and in many cases the girls were happy at their work unless the viewers were in a nasty mood and made things difficult for them.

Of course a lot of the things such girls say can be taken as mostly fiction and the rest distorted views of reality. Her name was Rosita and she spoke Spanish better than English but understood enough to shake down the clients for maximum tips.

Rosita told me that she had recently given birth to a daughter who she called Angel. I thought that there was some truth in that because she was able to lactate at the drop of a hat or a request with enough of a tip to make it worthwhile. One of the things that she excelled at was the ability to make her pucker star almost dance on command and express her willingness to take it up the ass with her girlfriend's finger, her own fingers or one of the dildos that seemed to be available in every direction in the filming room. I wondered if the girls kept their own personal dildo for hygienic reasons or if they used them interchangeably without such niceties to guide them.

I was in Colombia on an extended stay because I was no longer welcome in my hometown stomping grounds of Miami, Florida. My name is Donnie Ambrusco and I had been brought to Florida by my escaping parents from Havana, Cuba when I was only eight years old. I was fortunate enough to be bilingual and my travels to Central and South America were made easy because of my ability to understand the lingo and fit in with the masses. Of course, my Cuban and Miami accent made me stick out in social circles but down in those places the residents from the city sounded strange to the people out in the countryside. I grew up in Little Havana and spent time in juvenile detention for some silly shit with firecrackers and the fact I had a small knife in my back pocket when the rookie cop patted me down. My mama was distraught when they paraded me handcuffed into the courtroom and I have to admit I was more pissed than fearful. They gave me the boot from the Sheriff's camp on my eighteenth birthday and I got hooked up with the Puerto Rican gang that was starting to make inroads into the Miami Beach and South Beach scene with the "pill" business and the all-night raves that attracted the cock-hungry pussies from up north. Making a long story short, I got caught out trying to steal some product from the local Cuban guys and my new Puerto Rican buddies were quick to give me up to keep their territory safe. Faced with threats from both the Cubans and the Puerto Ricans, I found that an extended trip to visit my suppliers in Colombia was the lessor of two poor choices and I hopped a flight that set down in Bogota in the middle of the night. It left me sitting in the airport waiting for daybreak because I hadn't arranged for any sleeping arrangements due to my recent troubles that caused me to be overly cautious.

I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be sitting in a strange country like this with a reputation for violence and not being able to speak the language. It almost gave me a headache just to think about it. About 6AM a couple of shady looking characters slunk in the automated doors and made eye contact. I figured this was the welcoming committee from the small organization my Uncle Charlie had set up for the importation of "flowers" from the Colombian countryside. He lived in a mansion up in Boca Raton so I guess the "flower" business was booming. I never got into that kind of business being strictly a "pill" guy even though I was only hooked on twenty year old scotch.

The younger one with the serious eye twitch picked up my flight bag and I thought that was a generous move unless he was planning on stealing it. Their Spanish was a bit slang driven and slurred but I could understand them just fine and tried my best to imitate their style. It must have worked because we all headed out to the crown vic. in the parking area and barreled our way through the still sleepy city out to the section that they were nice enough to find for me away from the cops and any other interested parties looking for a bounty.

The villa was old but well-maintained and filled with assorted characters that made me look like an altar boy. Directly across from my little patio balcony was a red clay building with a sign over the front door that advertised "Businessmen's Massage". There was little doubt in my mind what the house was being used for because the opposite pair of balconies was crammed with clotheslines of fancy panties and thongs and delicate bras of all sizes. It looked like the uniform of a full time whore rather than a professional masseuse.

My first visitor was a well-dressed older guy who told me he was a friend of my Uncle Charlie and that this villa belonged to him as well as the house across the street. His name is not important because I am certain he was using an alias anyway. I have to admit he was a bit comical with his constant looking over his shoulder like he expected the devil himself to be showing up any minute. I thanked him for his hospitality and he indicated to me that he was glad to be of assistance and at the same time asked me for a favor in return.

"In the building across from you, I have a special friend called Rosita. She is a wild child and has no morals at all. That is not important. What is important is that her mother is my former mistress and I promised I would try to keep her out of trouble. I ask that you befriend her and make certain she does not do anything that would things hard for her with either the police or with the running dogs of the street gangs that like to prey on the girls who make their living on their back. I must stay aloof of involvement because of other business interests that prevent me from exercising my authority."

I listened to all this and wondered if the old guy was telling me the truth because it is hard to read those "old school" guys who are so devious that their own mothers never know what they are up to. Anyway, I agreed to do as he asked and promised to deliver to him via his messenger service a daily report on the girl's status too set his mind at rest. It was the least I could do to repay him for his hospitality and granting of sanctuary in a world turned upside down by greed and revenge.

Later that morning, I came out of the great little shower which was just as good as a five star hotel and wandered out to the balcony wearing only a modest towel to cover my private parts. I was fortunate with living near South Beach to have acquired a golden tan by swimming almost every day all year round even when the temps in the water were on the low side in the early morning hours. I was lucky enough to have good genes and my muscular physicality offset the fact that I had a broken nose and a pale white scar that never tanned running from my left ear to just under my eye socket. I was lucky on that one since the unruly customer with the blade was so high on something that he was just swinging wildly and I managed to get my face inside the range of his knife. Actually, he was a sort of friend of mine and was all apologies ever after. I made a joke out of it and told him.

"With a scar like that, guys think twice before they try anything so I owe you a debt of gratitude."

I saw the balcony directly opposite was occupied by two females. One was small and tightly packed with a bottom that would put ideas in a pious priest's mind regardless of his vows. The other one was a big-boned phony blonde with gigantic tits swinging loosely inside her sports bra that was almost like a pair of sails holding up her tempting bosom. Under normal circumstances I would be glued to the blonde but the small girl fit my benefactor's description perfectly and I was certain she was the Rosita in question. I could see the pair of them were scoping me out so I just settled down on the comfortable outdoor furniture and kicked my feet up on the opposite chair to study them a bit.

It was a narrow street so I had a great view of the blonde's tits and the petite girl's heart-shaped ass that certainly set my cock to attention just by its close proximity. The blonde lifted her tits just so I could see the outline of her pronounced nipples crowning each work of art with a stamp of approval. The little one was definitely Rosita because I heard the other female call her by that name as clear as a bell.

Rosita was a high-spirited thing because she flirtatiously turned away from me and with a graceful movement bent over so far that I could almost see the pubic hairs falling outside her thong and the hint of her brown eye peeking out in anticipation of some action in the near future. She tantalizingly looked over her shoulder to make certain I was watching and reached back and pulled her thong to cover some of the white-cheek territory exposing her tan line. I looked and thought it would be a lot of fun to cross that border any day just to get to the Promised Land.

I raised my small cup of espresso and saluted her ass showing I was entirely in favor of her choice of undies on a quiet morning in the middle of the week.

Another girl wandered out on their balcony and told them in a voice loud enough for me to hear every word.

"Rosita, you better get your ass down to the cam room. You have to work the Yankees for the next two hours because Carmelita is still so hung over from the party last night she can hardly stand much less talk and make sense."

The demure girl gave the finger to the other two and flounced back into the house for duties on the video cam that probably sent her sexy image to all corners of the world for perverts to get steamed up and conclude their business in private. I wondered if it was a better option than working shifts tending to clients looking for a quick massage during the nocturnal hours. I later found out from her that the cam business was a lot more profitable because the money was multiplied by back-up videos that looped and took in revenue around the clock.

I decided that I would make time that evening to head across the street and request a session with Rosita. I wanted to get better acquainted with my assignment and let her have a good look at what I was hiding under my towel. My fond hope was that she would be as interested in my assets as I was in her neat little package of goodies. Her interesting little smile promised the opportunity for the holy grail of elusive satisfaction. My thoughts until then would be focused on speculation about the tightness of her tiny channel.

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