Chapter 23

My employment issues continued to plague me as the agency contracted with new start-ups and dubious legal enterprises with the cunning of a neighborhood shylock.

I had no problems with my working colleagues in the lady’s fashion store. In fact, I was quite content with the fact that most of them were dark-skinned or of other minority demographics. One of them was a petite young female that wore a hood around her head as some sort of religious signal that she was of that faith.

Her name was Tamil and she confided in me in the stockroom that she had only been married for six months to a man that she had never met before. That piqued my interest, and I asked her how that had happened in this day and age.

Tamil looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was eavesdropping and whispered in my ear that his family had lent money to her father, and she was the reward for their generosity.

I patted her on her bare shoulder, and she placed her hand on top of mine.

“You are in America now, young lady, you should be getting married for love and not to pay a debt.”

She lifted her unveiled pretty face to mine and offered me her lips telling me that she was quite unhappy and that her new husband was constantly requiring her to “bend over” for him and he would stick his “big thing” up her poop hole with even asking her for her permission. He told her that it was her “duty” as a spouse to give him access to any hole he desired.

I kissed her right inside her mouth without hesitation because the temptation of her wetness was all I needed to spur me to risky behavior in the privacy of the closed door behind us. I admit that the sight of her headwrap hiding her beautiful hair and her long flowing dress that covered all her lower body flesh inspired me to take advantage of her obvious need for tender loving care.

Her face was uncovered, her arms and shoulders were bare and that was all it need for me to kiss her skin and lick her ears and neck with my sinful lips.

“Oh, Mister, that feels so good to Tamil. My husband never kisses me and only wants my dirt hole for his plaything. May I ask you to kiss me on my nipple and tell me you love me even if we both know it is only for fooling around and not true love.”

She opened her garment up high and pulled out a delicious looking boob that had a hardened purple nipple on the end that begged for proper attention. A wave of impulsive desire swept over me, and my erection was obvious to both of us. I sucked on her tit as she pulled my big boy out of its hiding place and wrapped her ruby red lips around it all the way down to the root like a well trained country girl with hungers deep inside where good girls keep them out of sight.

We heard some noise at the door and had to part unceremoniously to prevent laughter at our exposure as oversexed and underpaid workers.

When I exited the store that evening, I found her waiting for me on the sidewalk and she offered to give me a ride home in her SUV. I reached out with my excited hands to cup her yielding breasts as she backed into the alley nearby my house, and we started to steam up the glass windows with our panting breath. Somehow, I found my face was planted between her legs and she opened her feminine folds for me to lick and kiss with my enthusiastic welcoming of strange sex to my taste buds.

Tamil pressed my head and face up deep inside her pussy and she was crooning words in a foreign language that sounded more like a prayer to some God of lust rather than a romantic poem.

She lifted her hips up exposing her ass crack to my oral ministrations and I found she had not aversion to my rimming her sphincter with my devoted tongue telling me, “Please lick me inside Mister Harry, I need it so badly that I am ready to explode with my juices all over the place.”

It was just starting to get dark, and a soft rain was pattering down on the windshield like baby kisses in places that ladies considered prime territory for proper loving. I whispered in her ear to remove her head covering so I could see the radiant hair that she had underneath. I saw her blush at my urging, and she took off her covering and at the same time, she turned her backside to me and spread her ass cheeks telling me, “Please put it in my vagina, Mister Harry, I prefer it natural there and not in my sore bottom.”

Of course, I followed her instructions to the letter, because it was rare to have such offerings presented to me on a silver platter without wining and dining the young lady into a sensuous position.

Tamil told me it was quite all right because her husband would go straight for her brown eye as that was his favorite target. She could hold my creamy deposits inside her snatch with little danger of him discovering her betrayal of her wedding’s vows. We both laughed at that, and she milked my cock of every last drop of my passionate semen with frenzied circular motions that had me spurting out my load far earlier than I had planned.