The following story is not for the faint of heart and is NOT intended for those under the age of 18! Consider yourself forewarned!
A Days Labor
I recently moved DC, and I have a recurring fantasy about a Day Laborer who waits in a parking lot of a shopping plaza every day and whom I pass each morning on the way home from work. He stands out from the rest, because he is considerably taller –about 6’ and he is well built and he dresses in worn out jeans and a faded tank top that shows off his broad shoulders and golden tanned skin. His hair has a slight curl to it and his smile is flawless. But his most striking feature has got to be his eyes –they’re hazel –light brown in the middle with a jade green color near the edges.
I stop at the traffic light and he knocks on the passenger window. Using the power locks I unwind it, and he pops his head in the open window and asks if he can mow my lawn, rake some leaves or clean out my garage. He knows enough English for me to understand him.
“How much to you charge per hour?” I ask inquisitively.
He hesitates then speaks. “Seven, maybe ten...depends on work.” My mind starts wandering.
“How much to have you for the whole day?” I am almost embarrassed to ask because I feel more like a john soliciting sex, than a business women negotiating the price of a days work.
“For you...hmmm, eighty dollars.” He smiles as do I.
On the ride home, I find out that his name is Hector and that he is single, but supporting his mother in
. We arrive at my suburban home and pull into
the garage. I show him the gardening
tools and indicate what needs to be done.
He starts in the backyard, trimming the hedges. Perfect. Mexico
I undress, and then dress in the skimpiest bikini I own –a black string bikini with the matching thong, and slip on a pair of stilettos. I head poolside to catch some early morning sun. Hector is wearing nothing but his jeans, boots and a pair of work gloves. He is bear-chested and sweat streams down his body.
As I sit in a lounge chair, I catch his attention, but I pretend not to notice. Removing the bikini top, I hear the motor stop. I begin lotioning myself with sunblock –squeezing each one before I start to fondle my breasts.
I reach for the sunblock again and can’t find it. It is at that moment I feel a pair of rough masculine hands, with palms covered with tanning lotion, caress my shoulders. My chest rises and falls with each rub he administers and I lean my head back onto his chest. Hector sits behind me, with his work boots planted on the deck.
The sweet-pungent odor of sweat surrounds me, and I feel wetness escape from my vagina and become absorbed in the tiny strip of fabric between my legs. Hector’s palms slide down my chest and over my breasts. He massages them, occasionally pulling each nipple between his thumbs and forefingers.
I turn to face Hector. As I kneel at the end of the lounger, I slowly slip off my bikini bottoms and crawl towards him along the chair. I rub myself along the smooth, sleek lines of his abdomen and chest. I straddle his legs and can feel him through his jeans.
We lean in to kiss each other and I taste him –cool and refreshing, like spearmint gum. Our tongues play for a few moments longer before I pull away. My lower lips are dying to take a bite out of the giant enchilada in his pants.
I unbutton then unzip his jeans –he isn’t wearing any underwear.
Follow the link to What's Her Fantasy? to find out what happens next!
Baci a tutti!
Day 231: Wednesday Augurst 1st, 2012
Designer: Tribeca, A Kenneth Cole Production
Name: The Winner
Style: Platform Wedge Slide
Heel: 4 inches (10.16 cm), Platform: 1 inch (2.54 cm)
Material: Leather Upper with an interwoven strappy vamp and metal studs along mid-sole of cork wedge
Beautiful in an color,
Here are some collages from the pictures taken at today's photo shoot...enjoy!