A Late Night Call Delivers Pleasure and Promises

One night in Mexico wasn’t nearly enough for Juanita and me.

The sing-song chirp of a bird’s call echoed off the walls of my silent room. “Tweetoo-twitee-cheep-cheep-cheep,” the little birdsong repeated, reflecting off the windows until they skipped over my ears and woke me from my slumber.

Rolling onto my back, I reached in the darkness, my fingers splayed and smacking the dresser top searching for my phone. In the fog of waking, my brain failed to identify the specific ringtone, but the illuminated flat screen of the device guided my hand.

The caller ID showed, “la flor de abajo.”

Heavy fingers rubbed sleepy eyes. I failed to make a connection, and my Spanish required Google translate. I was always cautious; I ignored the summons and waited patiently for the chirping bird to recede to its nest. Finally, I set the phone down and rolled back into my sleeping position on my left side, my body facing the center of the bed.

“An empty bed,” my mind reminded me annoyingly. “Do you see what your bed looks like when you get up in the morning?” Stimulated by the late-night phone call, my mind was set on torturing me.

“The other half of the bed is undisturbed. Not a wrinkle in the bedding. Not a crease in the mattress. It’s as though something so fragile lies beside you that you dare not encroach on its boundary. I’d worry about that if I were you,” its quiet but intrusive voice poked at me.

“I sleep soundly. Without a worry in the world and a clean conscience. That’s a gift, not a concern.” I answered no one but myself, “and that didn’t come easily-I paid for my peace.”

“And when is the last time you rewarded yourself? When is the last time this bed held the weight of another body?” Relentless, my mind won. I was awake.

I rolled over, reached up, and flicked the reading light switch. “It isn’t true that no one else occupies this bed,” I stated flatly, determined to defeat the intrusive, uninvited voice. Then, looking left of my pillow, I reached for one of six or seven hardcover novels sitting piled where another pillow should be.

“I have loads of company with me,” I said with satisfaction, knowing that once I fell in with a story and its characters, the voice would be suffocated. But, before I made it through the first paragraph, that voice fought back with one more volley. “And do any of those characters kiss like…”

“Juanita!” The match finally struck, and the torch ignited. That little bird was Juanita, and I knew I was right when her Mexican name left my lips.

As I pulled myself up with elbows and pressed my back against the cool oak of the headboard, I realized the rest of my body knew it was Juanita as well. My loins stirred with the still-warm embers from her touch. I closed my eyes and moaned as I breathed in her sun-soaked scent.

I drew my finger across my lip, still tasting the saltwater tang of her sweaty skin. My throat went dry as I swallowed, feeling the fullness of her breasts pressed into my mouth. The electrified kiss of her erect nipples sprang against my tongue. A bead of perspiration touched my forehead. I recalled the lucid memory of her flower below, the shape of her sex. Her warmth, softness, and dewy kiss to my lips.

“The flower below...” I whispered it with one hand already reaching for the phone, the other momentarily occupied with a memory of its own. My fingers swiped and typed, and the translator told no lies. “la flor de Abajo-the flower below.”

I stood from the bed and moved the window shade down to look into a star-filled sky; my thumb stroked down the screen and swiped my caller list up. I tapped redial with a smile on my face. Intrigued and flattered, I walked to the bathroom and drew a glass of water while I waited, silently counting the rings from the phone.

“¿Estás muy molesto por haberte despertado?” Juanita’s sugary voice answered after the fourth chime.

“Mmm, Juanita,” I answered her, the ability to mask my joy vanished. I knew she knew that I was smiling.

“I do believe you could tell me to jump into a volcano, and I would stiffen and melt simultaneously. You have a marvelous voice, and the words, even though I don’t know what you said, sound very sexy.”

“Oh, ustedes son tan fáciles,” she said with a sigh and soft laugh.

“Now stop that and tell me what you’re saying,” I demanded in faux frustration.

“No! That one is for me, and I don’t want to say.” Juanita toyed with me, “But the first I will tell you. I asked you if you were very upset that I called and woke you from sleep.”

“No. Not at all. I’m very awake and happy for it.” I replied.

“Good!” Juanita said most happily. “And you discovered from where your little bird flew! You are a smart boy, Slevin!”

“Thank you, Juanita. Just smart enough, it seems but a boy I’m not.” I responded, matching her mischievousness.

A moan reverberated through the phone. “Mmm, no, you are certainly not a boy. A big, bad, starving man, I think. But you are right-not, a boy.” The quick cut of the English words with her accent, Juanita’s voice stroked across my mind like a pianist slipping fingertips over the keys.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“In my room. In my home, of course.” I replied without returning a question of my own. Juanita called me. She had taken the lead, and I wanted to be played with. I waited.

“I want to see you.” It was a command more than a request. It was the inflection in her voice-confidence, and I found it very arousing.

“I’ll call you back on video,” I answered. I felt compelled to do anything Juanita asked.

“Thank you, darling. You are very accommodating!” Juanita said. Now I knew she was smiling.

When the screen lit up, I saw the alabaster walls of Juanita’s bedroom, but no Juanita. I moved my head to the right and left as though it were physically possible to see past the corners of the screen.

“Juanita? Do you enjoy teasing me like this?” I said out loud.

“Very much, Slevin. I enjoy teasing you very much indeed.” Her voice came through the screen, followed by her lovely face a moment later. Wearing dark-framed glasses, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her bangs cut short hung just above her rich brows. Juanita looked devastating, wearing no makeup, no lipstick with her ears and neck naked from adornments.

I leaned back against the counter of the bathroom sink and sighed. Juanita’s dark brown eyes stared back at me.

She smiled a small smile. “You like to look at me,” she said.

“I do,” I replied. It occurred to me then that while Juanita could rise from bed and look this unintentionally gorgeous, I, on the other hand, probably looked like a half-blind owl caught in a windstorm.

“Shoot,” I exclaimed, “Juanita, you look even more beautiful than I remember. I didn’t even think to wash up. I’m sorry if I look disheveled, but to be fair, you did just summon me from sleep.”

“Summoned you,” Juanita replied. “I like that, Slevin. That I can summon you.” Juanita purred with her intoxicating accent. “And tell me, my dear Slevin. Did you rise for me?”

A smile curled at the corner of my mouth. “He remembers you very fondly.”

“Slevin,” she said, “I want you to kiss me. I want you to put your lips here,” A slender finger rose to her neck, the tip softly touched just below her ear. “And here.” My eyes followed her finger as it skipped the middle of her throat. “And here.” Juanita stood back from the screen. I swallowed as I watched her lovely fingers undo the buttons from the center of her breasts to their end. The last button was painfully undone just below her navel.

The way Juanita bent her arms up, graceful, moving through the air like the wings of a sparrow. Her wrists bent like lilies bent in over in the shade and how delicately her fingertips touched the fabric resting on her shoulders.

It was seeing the essence of beauty personified. When the shirt fell away from her body, her bare breasts exposed, the cinnamon shade of her skin and her nipples like buds of chocolate, I moaned, exhaled, and the sudden rise in my body heat made me briefly dizzy.

“God-uhhh. Mmmm, you are so gorgeous.” I said with a deep and long exhale.

Juanita smiled, “I like how you look at me, Slevin. I like watching you look at me.”

My legs flexed, a hand dropped below, softly cupping and wrapping around my growing cock.

“And here,” Juanita continued, “I want your mouth here,” her fingers making large, slow circles around one breast. “And here too, baby,” her pale fingernails walked across to the other, a single finger did a lap around her breast and skipped off her protruding, dark, gorgeous nipple.

“But mostly, my darling,” Juanita moved to the phone, took it in her hand, and I watched the screen shake and turn until I was staring at her ceiling. “I want you to kiss me here.” Her voice was a waterfall of syrup, slow and thick, flowing to my ears with the heat of lava. Juanita moved over the screen; her bare, beautiful, deliciously dark labia hovered above the phone. Her lips quivered.

My hand reflexively squeezed my cock harder, the warm softness now a burning, throbbing staff of steel. Her fingers appeared, spread in a V, and splayed on either side of her pussy. Rubbing up and down, I watched the hood over her clit pull back, teasing me with the sight of her swelling bud and watching as her honey droplets gathered at the entrance to her sex.

“Mmm-hmmm,” I moaned louder, “You have such a beautiful pussy, Juanita. She’s glorious.”

Juanita’s fingers drummed around her clit, spread her lips open wider, then finally, she allowed one fingertip to dip inside.

“Tell me what you want, Slevin.” Her voice came from above the screen, and though I couldn’t see her lips move, I saw them sucked in and licked.

“I want you in my bed,” I answered. “I want to taste every inch of your body.”

“Mmm, that’s nice, baby.” Her voice answered from above as I continued watching her single fingertip slip inside her pussy to its knuckle before being withdrawn, slick, and glistening, then rubbed across her lips and clit.

“Now,” her inflection rising again, “TELL ME WHAT YOU REALLY WANT.” Juanita’s final words were delivered with a precise level of dominance.

I was more than willing to obey.

“I want to strap your wrists to the corners of my bed. I want you sitting your fucking gorgeous pussy on my face, and I WANT TO WORSHIP YOU.” My voice matched the gravity of her tone.

“Si, Cariño!” Juanita moaned, and my legs shook as I watched two of her fingers plunge deep inside her pussy.

“Tell me I’m beautiful, Slevin,” Juanita commanded.

“Juanita, you are so beautiful,” I replied.

“Tell me you want to make me cum.” She said, her breath becoming as rapid as the pace of her fingers stroking in and out of her pussy.

“I want to make you cum, Juanita,” I answered, stroking my throbbing cock in pace.

“On your face Slevin. Tell me you’re going to make me flood your mouth. Tell me you need me more than agua!” Juanita’s voice rose in octaves. Her pleasure was making me lightheaded. I pumped my cock hard and fast.

“I’m going to make you cum on my face, Juanita. I’ll die if I don’t have you wash over my lips. I need you to drown me.” I said with a desperate ache shaking my throat.

“Tell me I should be worshipped. Tell me you want to serve me your lust. Your hunger. Your ache. Your cock.” Panting, Juanita pressed a third finger inside her flowing pussy.

“Juanita.” My voice, firm and strong, “You are a Goddess. You are to be worshipped. I will be your servant. I will give you all my lust, passion, and power.”

Juanita’s silken black hair fell over her shoulder and swayed above the screen, moving quickly, her free hand joined at pleasuring herself. Her fingers held tight against one another like a paddle. Juanita fanned, smacked, and furiously rubbed her clit while she continued fucking herself with her fingers.

“I’m coming, baby! I’m coming!” Juanita’s pussy quivered, her legs buckled, and she rose straight above the phone. Her tits swayed and shook, their fullness overloading my visual senses. Her dark nipples poked hard into the air. Juanita shook, shivered, and smacked her fingers inside her pussy, sending showers of liquid orgasm blurring the screen.

Grasping the counter, I leaned back, my balls shaking, my cock head swollen and dark with the rush of blood, I called out to Juanita. “Ohhh, fuckkkk! Juanita! I’m going to come!!”

“Aiyyyiii!” Juanita howled, “Not yet, baby! I need to see it! I want to watch your cock erupt for me!”

Squeezing at the base of my cock hard, I held back, aching, needy, and desperate to cum. The screen jumped in a flurry of white, a napkin wiping off the lens. Then I saw Juanita again seated in a chair. Her legs spread wide, her free hand slowly rubbed her pussy.

“Now, Slevin,” she said. “Cum for me now. Show me your beautiful cum!”

I couldn’t have held out a second longer. I released my grip and pumped my cock hard. Driving my knuckles down to my balls, once, twice, and on the third stroke, braced the counter as strings of white, creamy cum shot from my cock. Losing my balance, I nearly fell to the floor, cum splashed across my chest stomach, and spilled over my knuckles.

“Mmm-hmmm. Sí, Cariño!” Juanita purred, then blew me a kiss and, with a beaming smile, applauded with her lovely hands. “Very good!! Thank you, Slevin. That was beautiful.”

Covered in sweat and cum, I rose to my feet, smiled, and managed a half graceful bow.

“Aiiyiii!” Juanita shrieked again. “You are so cute! Mmm-Hmm! Now Slevin,” Juanita went on with a rapturous smile, “I did not lie to you. I am coming.”

Smiling with equal elation, I asked, “To me?”

“Yes! To you!” Juanita confirmed with an adorable pointing of her finger at my face on the screen. “I have drawn my vacation time, and I can hardly believe it, but next week, I am coming north to you for a woman who hates to be cold! To Canada!” Juanita declared with playful enthusiasm. “That is, of course, if you will have me.”

With a glance at the undisturbed side of my bed, I answered.

“Have you? Oh, Juanita. I may never let you go back.”

Juanita brought the phone to her face, kissed it, then gave me an indulgently long look into her shimmering dark eyes. Then, finally, she said, “Go back to bed. Sleep well.” She waved her delicate fingers at me, then added, “And Mr. Kimberly, I expect to see you on the conference call tomorrow very attentive and focused!” Juanita smiled once more, blew me a kiss, and said good night.

After a quick rinse with a wet face towel, I walked into my office, opened my laptop, and signed in to my business calendar. Then, highlighting the blocks of the following week, I filled the days with three words for the duration-”No Time Available.”

The beginning of this couple’s story is can be found here.

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