Guatemalan Blend Pt. 03

Third installment of the series, and you all have been very patient. It has been a slow build to the payoff, and I hope it has been worth the wait.

Enjoy.

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The next several days were a flurry of activity... for everyone in my household.

Thomas was busy packing and coordinating his move while working with Carlos to do a sort of new-hire orientation.

Marisol was cleaning the "Servants' Wing" as Thomas started calling it, and getting it ready for her brother and sister to move in. And when she wasn't she was packing and moving her family's belongings.

Maria was scrambling to finish the last few activities of high school AND move.

And I was busy staying out of their way.

Nero seemed to be the only one unphased. He kept cooking as normal, though he had two more people to feed.

Carlos paid off the sharks, and the family celebrated with Nero preparing a welcome dinner using one of the recipes Marisol provided. Marisol said they loved it, which made me happy.

I ate dinner alone.

I know--cue the pity party. But in that moment, I felt it. Maybe the inner asshole was getting too uppity, and I was listening to him a bit too much.

But I never regretted my decision. I was glad I was able to help Thomas get settled in Illinois. I was glad Carlos was no longer under the thumb of the sharks. I was glad that Maria was excited for her new job. And I was glad to see Marisol's face full of joy and gratitude when Carlos and Maria arrived, bags and boxes in hand, to move in. Hell, I even helped them carry stuff.

It wasn't much and only took two or three trips with everyone pitching in. I left them to get settled in their rooms and went back to my "wing" to enjoy a glass of wine on the patio. I sat in the shade and listened to the laughter and hustle-and-bustle of Marisol's family as they unpacked. Again, it made me happy. The laughter drifting in from the other wing didn't belong to me. But I let it fill the silence.

After a few minutes, I saw Marisol exit the house and walk quickly over to me, more tears in her eyes, a smile on her face, and a nervous fidget in her hands. I stood up as she approached, wondering if something else was the matter. Without saying anything, Marisol wrapped me up in a hug, tender and warm.

"Gracias, Mister Mike," she whispered in my ear.

I stood there and held her. Oh god, she felt good. She was the perfect height to rest her head on my shoulder as she fought to hold back her tears of gratitude. Her thin, strong body pressed up against me, and I could feel every curve and contour of her shoulders, chest and hips. I inhaled the scent of her hair and skin, the muskiness of hard work mingled with the lavender aroma of her lotion.

We held each other for only a handful of seconds, but I was able to take all of her in. Eventually, she broke the hug and looked up at me with the sweetest expression of embarrassment and appreciation. She held my hands and looked into my eyes.

"Gracias," she whispered again and moved as if she was leaving. Instead, she changed her mind, stood on her toes, and softly kissed me on the lips. The touch was quick and light--like the warmth of a sunrise after a sleepless night--and filled with a myriad of emotions toward me, toward her family, and for the hope this new future gives to them.

Without looking at me, she turned and walked briskly away, her kiss still tingling on my lips. I watched her walk away, neither of us saying anything more. When she disappeared inside, I inhaled deeply, realizing I had been holding my breath. It was my turn to collapse in a chair, and I sat there thinking about what just happened.

And about how I felt holding her.

And about how good she felt pressed up against me.

And about how I wanted her.

And another thought, clearly NOT from my inner asshole. I considered how wonderful it would be... to fall in love with her.

I didn't sleep much that night.

The next morning, I got up and went to my study to work. I was starting to get a bit frustrated because I didn't get an answer this morning from my e-mails I sent out the previous afternoon. Why wasn't anyone answering me? Where was everyone?

Then I realized... It was Saturday. How could I have forgotten? The world, unlike me, hadn't skipped a beat.

Easy, my inner asshole answered. You're thinking about soft lips and lavender.

Since it was Saturday, I decided to start enjoying my weekend. I returned to my bedroom, changed into swim trunks, then swam laps in the pool. After working out what I hoped were all my frustrations, I got out and relaxed on a lounge chair, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the sun for a while.

A niggling at the back of my neck told me I was being watched. I opened my eyes and looked around. Maria stood at her window, blinds open and looking out at the pool area. She tried to be nonchalant, but even I could tell she had been looking at me and trying not to look like she was. She wore a light pink tank top and even from this distance I could see the dark brown of her nipples... and they were pointed under the fabric of her shirt. Was she... aroused?

A bit nervous, I gave her a friendly wave, and she waved back, blushing as she closed her blinds. I'm not sure why I was embarrassed, I wasn't the one standing by an open window with my nips poking out my tank top. But for whatever reason, I was embarrassed.

The thought of her watching me as I lay here in my swim trunks was rather... sexy. I felt my cock stir as I thought about it. If she was watching, I didn't want her to see me pop a boner right here, so I quickly got up and went back into the house to shower and get cleaned up.

In the shower... I may or may not have rubbed one out thinking of dark, aroused nipples under a pink tank top.

Marisol was cleaning the kitchen when I walked in after the shower. I wished her a good morning, and she reciprocated. We danced around that kiss in silence, neither of us mentioning it. But something unspoken was still there, hovering like steam above the coffee. We went about the routine, her cleaning and me just putting together a small lunch. I stood at the window, looked out at the pool area, and got an idea.

"Marisol?" She looked over at me, expecting a request to clean something... like a good (or asshole) employer should. "You and your family deserve a day to celebrate. So, tomorrow I'm going to fire up the grill and cook for you, Maria, and Carlos. You three can have a day by the pool with no work. I will do it all and take care of everything. Steaks okay? And what is your drink of choice? I'll get soda for Maria, of course, but if you and Carlos want something in particular, I'll go pick it up." I guess I just rattled off the ideas as they came to me, because Marisol tried to answer my questions as I said them, but I didn't give her a chance. Finally, I stopped blathering and let her answer.

"Y-yes, Mister Mike. That would be wonderful. Thank you. All of that sounds great. Whatever you have will be fine."

"I insist. I'll make sure to have a variety. I usually go for wine or brandy," I said. "But I'll grab some Crown, Don Julio, Coronas... maybe even Bacardi. Sound good?"

Marisol shrugged, but that sparkle of happiness began to shine in her eyes once again.

"Thank you, Mister Mike. Those will be fine. I mean... Don't go to all that trouble. I know Carlos likes Corona, but I'm sure he would appreciate something stronger. I'm... good with wine... like you."

I nodded. "Okay, then. I'll go get everything this afternoon. Let the others know. I'll come out later and tidy up the pool area if it needs it. I know Thomas did it right before he left."

This wasn't just hospitality. It was me, trying--awkwardly, sincerely--to give them something that felt like celebration.

Marisol didn't say anything, but nodded her agreement, and left to tell the others of the plan. As she walked away, I tried not to think about the feel of her body against mine, the tingle of her lips... or the image of her and Maria... in bikinis.

To keep the asshole at bay, I grabbed my keys and walked out the door.

The next morning, I got up early to get everything ready. The morning was quiet, bright, and purposeful. I moved through the pool area like a man on a mission--clearing the debris, calibrating the water, and tuning the air to celebration. By early afternoon, the scene was set. The drinks were chilled, music queued, and sunlight spilling like promise across the deck.

About 1 o'clock Marisol and Maria emerged from the "Servants' Wing."

The inner asshole and I knew today would be a good day. Both Marisol and Maria sported matching bikini's in different colors, Marisol's a bright red while Marias was navy blue. Both had ties on sides and revealed just enough cleavage and ass to tantalize any viewer. I gave them a friendly wave as they selected loungers, applied suntan lotion, and lay back to enjoy the warm, spring sun.

Carlos emerged a bit later sporting Bermuda-type swim trunks and immediately cannonballed the pool, splashing cool water over his sisters. That's when the party started. I hit 'play' on the music and the entire pool area was filled with the sound of steel drums and reggae. Still laughing in the pool, Carlos got his Corona with a splash of lime, Marisol got the same with a quiet smile. Maria, underage, got a Diet Coke and an amused glance from her siblings when she tried and failed to sneak a beer instead.

I set out trays of chips, veggies, and other finger foods, just to let them snack as they went along. Eventually, both Maria and Marisol took turns in the pool, and I tried not to notice the water dripping from their lean, curvy bodies when they emerged.

My inner asshole couldn't help but tally the perks: sunshine, alcohol, and beautiful company. For once, I didn't argue with him.

I kept the drinks and food coming, eventually grilling the steaks and bringing out the baked potatoes. I sat back and let the breeze carry their voices. Today wasn't about me. That felt... right. I worked quietly... and enjoyed the view.

Marisol's bikini showed off her curves and cleavage, giving me a tantalizing view of her forbidden areas. At one point during the preparations, I realized that the edge of her brown nipple was showing under her bikini top, and she had no idea. She continued to laugh and lean back, totally unaware of the "wardrobe malfunction."

Maria knew precisely how to wear her bikini to maximum effect, pulling the strings high on her hips so it cut more into her ass to show off more of her own youthful curves. She lay on the lounger, her legs uncrossed and spread just enough to see the hint of camel toe under her bikini bottoms, and she would often adjust the top, so her breasts pushed together to enhance her cleavage. She, of course, caught me admiring both her and her sister, sometimes giving me a wave as if to say, 'I see you.'

Unfortunately, the inner asshole prevented me from being discreet about watching them, and I ogled them openly. Even Marisol noticed me "enjoying the view" as she climbed out of the pool. She didn't seem to mind, though, and smiled ruefully as she returned to her place at the lounger. Every now and then, I caught her gaze flick toward me. Not invitation exactly--more like acknowledgment. Familiarity. Maybe even trust.

Like I said, it was a good day.

Carlos drank several beers and fell asleep while floating in one of the inflatable recliners I placed in the pool. He seemed comfortable so I let him be, but I'd be sure and wake him up in a bit, so he didn't burn. Marisol and Maria both lay face down on the pool lounger's working on their tan. They both had untied their bikini tops and relaxed in the sun's rays. From my vantage point at the grill, I could see their feet and up between their legs, their curvaceous asses on full display.

Did I mention it was a good day? Somehow, I managed to NOT burn the steaks.

Maria's laughter cracked the sunlit hush, pulling my gaze to where she was undoing Marisol's bikini bottom strings, Marisol scolding her in Spanish.

"What?" Maria replied innocently. "You don't want tan lines, right?"

Marisol muttered a few more words in Spanish but lay back down ignoring her sister.

A few minutes later, I announced the steaks were ready. And being male... and with the inner asshole raging... I watched the two sisters maneuver themselves into an upright position while maintaining their modesty. Marisol, apparently, forgot about the untied bikini bottoms, so when she shifted her weight, the back portion slid off her round ass and fell between her legs... giving me a great view of her naked ass... and a portion of her shaved pussy.

At that point, I was grateful for two things... THREE things. First, sunglasses, to help hide how wide my eyes got at this display. Second, the grill which hid my tenting swim trunks. Third, bikini ties. I think my inner asshole was the one grateful for #3.

Marisol shrieked in surprise at her predicament, and Maria, being the supportive sister, laughed hysterically, clutching her untied bikini top to her chest as she rocked on her hips, laughing. More Spanish issued from Marisol, which made Maria laugh harder, especially as she watched Marisol struggle between trying to hold up her top while trying to arrange her bottom and tie it with one hand. Maria eventually relented, and, still laughing, helped Marisol tie up both her bottoms and top.

Marisol, of course, was embarrassed and retaliated in the best way she knew how. She grabbed her younger sister by the shoulders, dragged her the few feet to the pool, and threw her in but not before pulling Maria's bikini top completely off. Since Maria's back was to me as she went in, I did not get even a glimpse of her bare breasts... dammit.

The splash reached Carlos and woke him up. He opened his eyes just in time to see his older sister throw Maria's top to her where she squatted in pool, keeping her body out of sight. He pointed and laughed at the younger sister. Marisol said a few more choice words to Maria, but with a playful smile on her face. She looked up and saw me watching the scene and then seemed to remember when she was. Her playful demeanor instantly fell, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

"She deserved it," I called out... which was precisely the wrong thing to say, because then Marisol KNEW that I had seen the whole show... which made her even more embarrassed. She walked away, wrapped herself in a towel, her laughter tucked away with it. Something shifted. And I wasn't sure if it was guilt or clarity that hit me harder. Her face still red, and her eyes downcast, Marisol walked over to me.

"I'm sorry, Mister Mike." She stood close enough for her voice to be heard but not enough to invite closeness. Her eyes stayed fixed on the tiles. "For Maria and for... everything just now."

I stayed behind the grill, performing the job like it was a craft I'd mastered. And anyway, it gave me a convenient excuse to hide... ahem... more than my insecurities. I shrugged and said, "You don't need to be. This is your day with your family. You guys were just having fun. Besides... I don't speak a word of Spanish, so you could have cursed her and all her children's children's children, and I would have no idea."

This gave her a laugh, and she smiled, though still blushing. "My grandmother used to say that one. If Maria's hair falls out under the next full moon, we'll know it worked."

My turn to laugh. "I look forward to it," I said, and I stepped out from behind the grill.

Marisol's downcast eyes went wide as I approached, and I quickly realized she was looking right at my crotch... the shorts still tenting. She gasped and looked quickly away, even more embarrassed. Not sure why SHE was embarrassed, I was the one walking around semi-erect. I quickly went to the table and sat down, placing the platter in front of me, hiding my predicament from everyone.

"Sorry, Marisol," I said clearing my throat. "I guess we're... even?"

Marisol circled around the table and sat opposite me, her eyes looking at the food, not at me. "Even," she whispered. She said it like a truce. But truce didn't mean peace, and it certainly didn't undo what had just passed between us. Her eyes flitted up to mine for the briefest of moments, and I saw a mass of emotions in them: shame and awkwardness, of course, but also curiosity, excitement... and I wanted to think... desire.

I quickly adjusted myself, stood up, and went to the kitchen busy myself there to give myself a few minutes to "lower the flagpole" and calm down from my embarrassment. I sort of hated myself right then. I felt like the cliché I never wanted to become--the aging bachelor with wandering eyes and misplaced intentions. I'd finish dinner, clean up, and disappear. Let them enjoy their day without the presence of the man who couldn't quite get out of his own head.

Maria and Carlos were sitting at the table when I returned. Maria, her bikini top replaced, still giggled and beamed enjoying the joke she played on her sister. Carlos, of course, chided Maria, but laughed while he did it. Apparently, he thought it was a great joke, too. After a few minutes of eating, they all relaxed, even Marisol.

Carlos looked around. "Mister Mike, why do you eat over there. Join us."

I demurred. "This is your time. No need for the old guy to spoil it."

"Oh, come on, Mister Mike," Maria said. "You're family today--sit down." She reached over and pulled out a chair inviting me to sit.

Reluctantly, I did, determined to be an unnoticed fly on the wall. I sat down with the Flores family during their celebration and joined their meal. Oh sure, I've been invited to several family dinners in the past with friends, girlfriends, whomever, but this one somehow seemed different. Maybe it was because they were all younger, and I was the "boomer." Maybe it was the fact that I was their employer, and for this brief time... I wasn't. Or maybe it was that they were the closest, tightest family I had ever witnessed.

Marisol, as the eldest, was willing to unspeakable lengths to help her brother. Carlos and Marisol worked to put Maria through school. Maria, being the fun one, kept everyone laughing and enjoying themselves. They had a bond, unbreakable and enduring, NOTHING like I had ever seen before.

And I was part of it. I'd meant to stay on the edges--to host, not belong. But somehow, I'd been swept in. And I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to leave. They included me in their banter, explained some of their inside jokes, and told embarrassing stories about each other to get the whole table laughing. It was a great time.

Being the good host, I made sure everyone had plenty to eat and drink. Being eighteen, Maria continued to try and sneak a Corona or two and even once tried to steal Marisol's wine glass. Her older siblings kept an eye on her, made sure she didn't completely succeed (she may have gotten a sip or two of wine before Marisol took it away), and gave her plenty of soda and water.

"I'll clean up," I said as dinner concluded. "This is your day. I'll take care of it."

There were a few protests, but eventually, I won out.

Carlos mentioned wanting to watch the Dodger's game, so he returned to his room, but not before taking the rest of the Coronas I offered.

Maria said she wanted to shower and read for a while, so she followed her brother, trying to procure one of the beers without his knowledge. She succeeded, and I said nothing. I looked and saw Marisol chucking and knew she saw it, too, but didn't say anything either.

"Kids will be kids," I said.

"I'll give her this triumph," Marisol replied. "For about three seconds, then I'll go take it from her. Make her think she's won but keep her honest in the end."

"Like a good big sister should." I looked at Marisol, who looked back, still smiling at her sister's antics. The laughter lit up her eyes, and her smile brightened her whole face. In that moment, she looked beautiful, every bit the goddess my inner asshole claimed she was.

We held each other's eyes for a moment before she stood up and followed her sister into the "Servants' Wing", no doubt to get the beer away from the under-age Maria.

I cleaned up dinner, put some leftovers in the fridge, made a mental note to give them to the Flores' in the morning, and went back out to finish cleaning the pool area. My intent was for them to have the pool and yard to themselves and withdraw myself from the remainder of their celebration, but I guess that changed.

It was about sunset when I finished, and I looked around at the yard with satisfaction. The sun dipped low, casting amber across the pool. The yard was quiet now, save for the last splashes of warmth. I breathed it in--this quiet, unexpected sense of belonging. It really was a good day... for everyone. A good family day. And I was glad I could provide it... and be a part of it in my own way.

I decided I deserved a bit of relaxation myself, so I refilled my wine glass and took it out to the hot tub. I sat there in the jets, lay my head back on the headrest, and just let myself be. After a few minutes, I heard a door close across the yard, opened my eyes and saw Marisol walking across the yard. She noticed me in the tub, smiled nervously, and walked over.

I'd meant to step back, give them space. But Marisol walking toward me with her empty glass... that changed things.

"Empty," she said holding up her wine glass. "Just returning it to your kitchen."

I gestured to the patio table. "You can have a refill if you would like."

"You don't mind?" I shook my head. She poured herself another small glass, then returned to stand by the jacuzzi. She held out her glass for a short toast, and we clinked glasses. "Thank you... for giving us this day, Mister Mike. It meant more than you know."

"You are welcome, Marisol. Glad to do it."

She took a sip and looked up at the sky, watching the stars coming out.

"W-would you..." I stammered, "... care to... to join me?"

Marisol didn't look at me but took another sip of wine still looking up at the stars. She seemed nervous and hesitant. I wasn't sure she'd accept the invitation. I half-hoped she wouldn't. But when she climbed in, every nerve I had decided to wake up. She took the seat opposite, likewise lay her head back, closed her eyes, and just relaxed. She breathed deeply and slowly, and I couldn't help noticing the way her breasts just seemed to float in the water, swaying with every breath and bubble from the jets. They were magnificent. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them.

Marisol's posture shifted slightly, and I realized she was looking right at me. She smiled wryly and closed her eyes again. "Boys," she said with a smirk, but not changing her posture and knowing her breasts were on full display again.

"We are kind of all the same," I said sheepishly. "Sorry."

Marisol shrugged... which added a soft bounce to her floating mounds. Of course... I stared.

We sat in silence for a while as I tried--and failed--to stop looking at her tits. In the end, I forced myself to lay back and close my eyes. "It was a good day, wasn't it." Statement. My statement. "You have an amazing family, Marisol."

"I have a crazy family. Especially that Maria." She takes another sip of wine. "Sometimes... she's out of hand. I guess I get out of hand too, the way I threw her in the water. I'm sorry..."

I cut her off. "Don't apologize. You were all just having fun. I feel like today I got to see Marisol Flores, not Marisol the Maid. I got to see you, not the help, not the fixer. Just you... and I'm grateful."

"I'm afraid what you are really seeing is Marisol the Wino," she chuckles as she takes another sip of wine, trying to deflect the compliment. "It's very good, Mister Mike."

"You like it? I'll make sure to bring some over to the kitchen in the Servants' Wing. That way you can enjoy it whenever you'd like." I sipped from my own wine glass. "Though I suggest putting a lock on it to keep it away from Maria."

Marisol laughed... actually laughed, and my pulse quickened as it echoed through the yard. She closed her eyes, resting back in the bubbles, breathing slow and even. The steam rose around her, softening the evening air. I found myself watching her, not for her beauty, but the peace on her face.

"The Family Wing," I said after a while. Marisol opened her eyes and looked at me curiously. "Thomas started calling it the Servants' Wing as a joke. I'm renaming it. The Family Wing." I held up my glass to salute the Christening, and Marisol did the same. "To the Flores Family Wing. May it always feel like home." She smiled, and in that moment, it already did.

We drank our toast and lay back in our seats.

"We do, Mister Mike," Marisol whispered.

"What?"

"Feel at home. We were talking about it last night. This is the first time Maria felt she could truly breathe. Carlos doesn't walk around carrying the weight of failure anymore. Here, we're not just employed. We're safe... because of you."

"Maybe. But I think you made this home for each other. I just opened the door."

Marisol shakes her head. "No, Mister Mike. You gave us more than jobs. You gave us a place where I don't have to listen for sirens or worry about shadows outside the window."

"You were afraid at your old place?"

"Terrified. Gangs, crime, drugs, and that was just our apartment complex. The whole neighborhood. I feared for Maria every time she walked across the parking lot. But it was all..." She looked down and fidgeted with her hands.

"All you could afford?" I finished quietly.

Marisol nodded. "You don't know what it means to us... means to me... to have all of us here... away from all that... safe. What you have done for us... for me..."

"You're a good sister, Marisol. You hold your whole family together, Marisol. Not just with money or care--with belief."

Marisol lay back in her seat. This time, she wasn't so relaxed. Her breaths were shallow, and she kept fidgeting in her seat nervously. She sat up and drank more wine, a larger gulp this time. She placed her glass down carefully, almost ceremonially, and inched closer. Her eyes didn't flinch as they met mine, bright as embers in the soft twilight. Kneeling in front of me, she placed her hand on my knee and looked right into my eyes. Even in the dimming light, I could see the intense fire burning behind them.

"Marisol..." I whispered, trying to stop whatever she was doing, but she silenced me with a finger to my lips. On instinct and without thought, I gently kissed her fingertip without breaking eye contact.

"Mister Mike..." she began, but instead of saying anything more, she rushed forward and kissed me. Again on instinct, I enfolded her in my arms and pulled her close, returning the intense kiss with ferocious hunger. In my head, I screamed at my inner asshole and told him to stop doing this. It wasn't right! She was so young! She was my employee! This shouldn't happen!

That's when I realized... it wasn't him--the asshole--kissing her... it was me. It wasn't just impulse or deflection, it was need. Raw, vulnerable, and mine.

I conveyed that craving into my kiss and gently probed her lips with my tongue. Her body melted into mine, wrapping her own arms around my neck and digging her fingers into my hair. She pulled me closer to her, our mouths open, and our tongues dancing and swirling between us. She straddled my lap, and I knew she could feel my rigid erection where she ground her pelvis against me. She gasped in surprise and arousal and said, "Mister Mike..." and returned to kissing me.

I caressed her back, her hair, her shoulders, wanting to feel every inch of her soft, smooth skin, eventually making my way to the round curves of her ass. I pulled her crotch even closer to me, and her grinding became more intense, fiercer, more... hungry.

She broke the kiss and leaned back, looking at me with a lustful desperation that mirrored my own. She reached between us and freed my erection from the confines of my swimming trunks. She smiled in appreciation as she gave it a few strokes.

"Oh god... Mister Mike," was all she said before she heatedly kissed me again, placed her hand on my shoulders, raised herself up, and placed her bikini-clad pussy entrance right over the tip, rubbing it through the fabric, teasing. "Please..."

My hand still cupping her ass, I reached under, moved the fabric of her bikini aside, and she slowly sank down, sheathing my rock-hard member into the soft folds of her exquisite womanhood.

God, I was in heaven. She slowly rocked her hips, and I felt my cock sink deeper and deeper into her pussy with each motion. She felt so tight, so sweet... and so right. We kissed and moaned our intense desire into each other's mouths as we rode the waves of sexual pleasure.

Between gasps and moans, I tried to convey the sheer magnitude of my yearning. "Marisol... god... you feel..." That was about all I got out. I wasn't very eloquent verbally, so I let my body speak for me. I matched the motions of her hips, thrusting up into her as she came down, her back arching as the orgasm inside her built. I could feel my own churning deep in my loins, as well. I kept thrusting, using my hands on her butt to leverage her movements, letting her feel my entire length with each bounce.

My lips found her tits, alternating kisses between them, then using my tongue to get to the stiff, sweet nipples hidden under her top. She pulled the fabric to give me full access to each tender bud, and I licked and sucked and bit each nipple in turn. The added sensations triggered her orgasm, and she screamed her pleasure in Spanish. The walls of her pussy clinched and tightened on my cock, and I released my own orgasm inside her. My dick spasmed and jerked as I spewed my cum, filling her womanhood with my seed.

Lost in post-orgasmic bliss, we held each other as we panted breathless in the hot tub. The stars shone overhead, the only witnesses to our moment of connection. She felt so good in my arms, her soft skin under my fingers, my face buried in her hair, her breath floating past my ear, my deflating manhood still deep inside her.

The realization of what we had done suddenly hit me, and my body tensed as I inhaled sharply. I felt everything in my chest--the thrill, the panic, the echo of her breath against my skin. I didn't know if it was shame or awe, but I knew it was real. Marisol sensed the change in me and cupped my chin in her hands as she looked at me. I tried in vain to speak, but my shock and fear left me silent.

"Shhhhhh... don't say anything, Mister Mike." She kissed me softly and reassuringly on the lips. "You are a kind-hearted, generous man, and you give so much to me and my family. You are also a very handsome man, and I have been attracted to you from the start. I want this... I want you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Marisol... wanted me? This must be a dream... or a trick. How could this be real. As if suspecting my confusion, she kissed me one more time, deeply and passionately, stirring my dick back to life. It twitched and flinched inside her, and Marisol gasped in response.

"Don't say anything," she whispered in my ear as she broke the kiss and embraced me once again. "Just... take me to bed... please." I held her tighter, clinging to her, keeping her against me, afraid that if I let go, she would disappear. "Take me to bed, Mister Mike. I need you."

Not wanting to break the spell by speaking, I nodded my head, and she kissed me again. She adjusted her bikini, covering herself once more and stood up. As she climbed out of the hot tub, I turned my head just in time to see the blinds in Maria's window sway. Not by wind--but by curiosity.

I guess the stars weren't the ONLY witnesses after all.