I learned of the inevitability of fate in the year 1638. I had not intended to travel to the New World like my brother or my father, (I had, in fact, given up hope that my father was even alive somewhere in the New World at all) however my career under the British crown pushed me into serving as an foreign agent to the Spaniards. By fate though, my desires went directly opposed when I was assigned to Spanish Mexico that very year. It wasn’t a surprising decision- I’ve been an adept Spanish speaker and the royal military of Spain seemed to prefer me to all the others in the British embassy. I was also in my physical prime, tall strong and handsome, though not as beefy as my father or older brother, I was an extremely fit 23-year-old young man.
I must admit, I liked the Spaniards. They knew how to keep a colony under tight control, which I saw first hand as a low ranking officer in Mexico City. Only problem we really faced were Aztec rebels, filthy natives who didn’t respond to civilization well, still living in the woods like animals occasionally raiding settlements and yelling about the white man. I hoped to never meet. Once again, fate proved me wrong.
It was my least favorite month, July, the hottest of the year. Mexico often got over 100°, making my English senses highly displeased. In spite of this, mostly due to my lack of fondness to my compatriots who lived in the city, I took jobs prospecting nearby areas. This kept me away from both my fellow officers and from the distasteful mixed-race people of the city’s lower-class areas, which low-ranks like me got to patrol. Still, even in the sweltering jungle in the middle of the summer, I made no moves that would endanger my duty to the Crown of England, even if it benefited me.
That week was memorable. I cut my hair short, as to better work in the thick rainforest, leaving my long blond curls, which were honestly more trouble to keep up then they were worth, in my quarters. I wore a white undershirt and brown pants- humble clothing, the kind I wore to avoid attention. My mistake was that it only avoided attention from the Spanish.
It was early evening when it happened, atop a forested hill that overlooked the city, as I had just completed my topography of said hill. I had to get back to civilization before night’s dangers emerged, but that was never an issue. At least, I didn’t think so. There were obviously suspicious ruffles of leaves and underbrush behind me, but my overconfident ears failed to discern it until too late.
That dress of mine? Perfect for blending in with civilization, but in the jungle, I stuck out like a sore thumb to the natives who still claimed it. And that’s exactly what happened.
“Hiyyaaa!” Yelled a feminine voice from behind me, breaking through the tough leaves of her arboreal cover. My body reacted instantly, reflexes turning me around and jumping back, barely out of the way of what I soon saw was my attacker’s stone knife, but I wasn’t fast enough to totally avoid it. The razor-sharp tip of it sliced though the brown fabric of my pants, leaving a bloody cut right above my knee.
“Agh! Holy shit!” I yelled, saying my first English in months as I looked at my attacker- a native woman, face painted with white and red lines, animal hides hanging over her womanly parts. She was muscular, but not to an absurd degree, leaving supple flesh on every inch of her exposed, savage body. Her breasts were bare, covered only by white paint smeared on her perky teats, each boob symmetrically round and bouncy. Even her face was pretty, despite an ugly black eye color and the typical angular Aztec nose.
My exclamation puzzled her, “That wasn’t spanish, white man,” she said in clear, albeit accented spanish, “What are you?” She held her knife to my neck.
“I am English, serving as a foreigner among the Spanish,” I growled.
She let her guard down, “I am Xochil of the Aztec resistance,” she said, clearly unable to speak any other language I’d understand, “if you aren’t one of the Españolas, can you aid in our people’s struggle?”
“Why do you trust me?” I ask, “I’m still a white man,” I stand up straight, realizing she’s nearly a full foot shorter than me.
“Because your good looks and strong form seem blessed by the gods more than any other men I’ve met.”
“How many have you?”
“That is of no concern!” She fumed, pointing her knife back at me, “now, are you willing to help or not?”
Help a savage? “Hell no,” I replied, lunging at her, only barely missing the knife as I dove down beside her to knock her smaller body over. She still swung that knife, going for my legs. I dodged, but she once again snagged my pants on the knife, this time both legs at once. When I rolled away, the entire garment peeled off.
We both got up, a tall blonde white man fighting this nimble little savage in a forest clearing. Now, as her painted breasts hung off her beating chest, my manhood hung down from my loins. I cursed my misfortune- the size of it would surely impede my fighting capabilities. But I was a soldier. I’d carry on.
It turned out, though, that I didn’t much have to. She gazed upon my naked lower half, eyes wide open and jaw slack, even her grip on the knife loosened. “What… is tha-“
I took advantage of that, swinging my leg around and kicking her in the side, sending her to the soft dirt and the knife down the hill into the underbrush somewhere.
I put my foot down on top of her chest. “Wait!” She gasped, “what- what is that thing!?” She asked, pointing at the pale white dick that hung down towards her. Her finger grazed the tip accidentally.
“It’s my cock,” I growl at the stupid Aztec, “never seen one before?”
“I have but- it’s- so huge! That is far too big to be a penis!”
I scoffed. Sure, I was well above average, but her wide-eyed response was unneeded at best.
“I’m serious!” she insisted, grating my ears with that Spanish, “how’d you get that?”
“What do you have to compare it to?” I ask, moving my boot up to her throat, scraping the soft skin between her tits.
“Th-the men of my village! My husband and my brothers- I’ve seen them all, but are you sure there’s nothing wrong with what you have there?” It was very, very obvious that she knew more than she led on.
“You have a husband?” I scoffed at the insinuation.
“Well- he’s our village leader, and I’m in his harem! I’ve never slept with him though!”
“Why did I need to know that?”
She froze, lips going limp, “Heh heh…”
“Hell, why did you wait for me to speak before you attacked? And why do you know such good Spanish, if you hate them enough to trust and Englishman?”
“If you want the truth- I hesitated because I found you- erm- highly attractive.”
“Is that it?” I glare at her, not accepting excuses.
“Yes!” She pleased, “I don’t want to harm any natural beauty! It would offend the gods!”
I rolled my eyes at that, but noticed something else- a distinct drop of moisture shimmering between her thighs, where her loincloth was soaked. I knew enough colonists with native wives or mistresses to know what was going on.
“You’re wet.”
She froze. “N-no. Well, yes. There was a puddle!”
“Don’t lie to me, idiot. You loved the sight of this, didn’t you?” I took my boot off her and shook my cock, feeling it begin to swell.
“N-no!” she got up and backed away, and was visibly very shaky, “It was an accident- I wanted to cut your legs so you couldn’t walk! I- I- I don’t want to see that thing! I don’t want to sleep with a white man! Stay away!”
I calmly walked towards the frantic, unarmed young woman, unafraid, “I never said anything about sleeping with me- that was your idea.”
“No! Go away, white devil!” She cried, still staring at my dick.
“Why? You wanted to kill me, so I think whatever I do will be justified- oh, and you’re getting wetter.”
“No!” she whimpered, “My body betrays me, but my heart will not! I will never betray the Aztec people by defiling my body with a white man!” She backed up against a tree
“So this-” I shake my cock, “Doesn’t turn you on? I wonder, if you’re not one of the harem girls who sleeps with your husband, have you ever had sex?”
“My sister-wives p-pleasure me! I don’t need that- that- that ugly white thing!”
I walked up to her, grabbing her arms, looking right into her scared eyes, “Once again, I never mentioned that. Why would you think something like that?” I breathed, not even inches from her brown little face.
She just whimpered again. I pushed up against her, letting my cock cleave her sweet thighs apart. She didn’t protest.
“I-I hate white men…” she stammered, but despite herself, she tugged at the string of her tanned hide loincloth and allowed it to fall to the ground. She was completely naked. My cock wrestled against her clenching thighs, winning the prize of her wet, surprisingly pink pussy.
“Do you really?” I asked.
“Yes- Tezcatlipocas forgive me,” She closed her eyes tight and brought her legs up on me, to which I replied in turn by pulling her up. As much as I didn’t act like it, this was my first time too, and I was eager to break in this uppity Aztec. I brought her down on her cock, and in the little clearing in the massive Mexican jungle, she screamed her heart out.
“It’s- so big!” I rolled my eyes. She wasn’t very original, was she? Still very tight though, but easy for my manhood to burrow deep into. “Ah! Too deep! Too deep!” She cried, tears welling up above her red facepaint. I let up slightly, pulling off from the tree and landing on the soft earth.
“You’re so big- so strong,” She crossed her feet behind me, almost pulling my weight more onto her, “You’re so different from pleasure from a woman. You’re big and rough and- oooh,” I started thrusting, slamming her back into the damp dirt. Nature smelled sweet, and so did her juices flowing onto my shaft, dripping onto the ground.
“Bigger than any of your men, I’m sure.”
She didn’t process the question for a moment, too caught up and glassy-eyed in her not-so-virginal-anymore pleasure to properly respond. “Y-yes,” she concluded, sucking some drool back into her mouth, “Tall and strong… but… this isn’t right. I- I can’t be with a white man!”
“If I’m that much bigger and rougher, why stop now? No matter what, every other time you have sex in your life, you’ll compare it to this one. Do you want regrets?” I knew it was wrong too- race mixing, fornication, disgusting, wet acts, but it felt so good. She clearly loved it too.
“Fuck! Fuck me!” She moaned, then screaming out some Nahuatl obscenities I didn’t understand, but got what she wanted to convey. It was like she totally forgot my question. Better that way. I pushed down her shoulders feeling her supple breasts, not quite as full or creamy as well-fed white women’s, but they’d do for this wild woman, painted face and tits looking out of control as they were given the ride of their life.
Her insides were just as wild as she looked. This pussy would be wasted on a lesser man, a blazing hot, bumpy, clenching furnace that cried out with lewd sounds thrist after thrust. Her heat was almost too much- almost. But clearly my dick was already too much for her primitive little mind to handle, so I wasn’t going to lose mine like my member between her primitive little hips. Though I wouldn’t mind. Just looking at how I made her white-streaked belly bugle up with every inch I pumped into her.
I could feel her wetness gathering around him and the walls of her pussy shuddered and squeezed. I plowed her (more literally than was usually said) into the dirt, my entire cock inside her. She growled like an animal, but mostly just panted like a dog.
She made attempts to do things like lick her fingers, or get that wetness on her reddish-brown rock-hard little nipples, but the way her body shook and bounced didn’t let her. Just how she couldn’t resist her body’s desire for my nude white form, she was so overloaded with hot, violent pleasure that she couldn’t do anything to even increase it. I was totally in control of her. And by the look on her face, in her steamy, small, smiling mouth to her half-shut, tear streaked eyes, she loved the way I controlled her.
It was becoming a little clear she didn’t actually hate white men.
I grabbed her, pulled her up to me from underneath, grabbing at her vulnerable back, feeling her dirty skin, covered in soil as fertile as she felt with those gyrating hips desperate to milk every pleasure my loins could give her. Leaves were in her hair, her paint was smudged, and she wanted more.
Her ass, feeling the bounce of my balls as I slammed into her nonstop, got a nice firm squeeze. Her cheeks were somewhat underdeveloped, firm and fleshy but not quite child bearing. I didn’t anticipate having children with her- another way fate would prove me wrong.
I sat up, impressed by the divot I carved into the dirt with her eager body. As the sun dipped below her horizon, she sucked on my collarbone, curled up with only the tiniest little whimpers coming from the mouth that twenty minutes ago hurled hatred at me. I just held on tight to her buttcheecks as I let her ride me.
I threw my head back as I felt I was cumming, giving Xochil an invitation to suck on my neck as well. Her eyes were more focused now, more clearly and unashamedly lusting than before. The widened as they felt something new- a recurring theme. This time, it was a rush of my cum shooting into her stretched-out pussy.
Immediately, I felt every spot, every pumping vessel and broken-in bit of her cunt squeezing tight, swallowing up my thick sperm, some even shooting out from under her clit. Her eyes were fluttering and her lips were slack- this was her body, and not her. By now though, she’d learned to listen to her body’s most taboo desires. She came with me.
“Do you still hate white men?” I asked, looking at her face as she collapsed in the ground.
She simply shook her head with a smile, most of her facepaint replaced with spit, sweat, and semen.
I left her there, panting and defeated, in the dirt, my cum dripping from her warm, used slit. I felt the power of conquest right then and there, walking home through the twilight of the jungle as I finally understood why colonization was so popular. I didn’t look back.
I found the knife at the bottom of the hill, taking it with me in one hand, while I held up the modesty cloth that used to be my pants that I tied around my waist with the other. I threw the weapon in the lake as I went home to my room above the barracks. I didn’t eat dinner, but slept well knowing I had fed Xochil the best meal of her life.
In the middle of the night, the breeze of the moonlight air through my window felt a little too noticeable. I was sure I closed it before I went to bed. Before I got up, though, I heard my floorboards creak. Looking up, I saw a figure in the shadows.
“Who’s there? Show yourself.” I demanded.
Out stepped Xochil.
“You think I couldn’t find you, white man? I could smell my scent on you,” she walked towards me. I began to regret leaving her there.
Instead of attacking me though, she got on her knees before me. “I want that scent to be on you every day and night,” she grabbed at my bulge.
I smiled. “So, are you leaving your people?”
Her answer surprised me- she simply pulled down my pants, and, as my cock swung against her face, said, “Yes I am.”
I must admit, I liked the Spaniards. They knew how to keep a colony under tight control, which I saw first hand as a low ranking officer in Mexico City. Only problem we really faced were Aztec rebels, filthy natives who didn’t respond to civilization well, still living in the woods like animals occasionally raiding settlements and yelling about the white man. I hoped to never meet. Once again, fate proved me wrong.
It was my least favorite month, July, the hottest of the year. Mexico often got over 100°, making my English senses highly displeased. In spite of this, mostly due to my lack of fondness to my compatriots who lived in the city, I took jobs prospecting nearby areas. This kept me away from both my fellow officers and from the distasteful mixed-race people of the city’s lower-class areas, which low-ranks like me got to patrol. Still, even in the sweltering jungle in the middle of the summer, I made no moves that would endanger my duty to the Crown of England, even if it benefited me.
That week was memorable. I cut my hair short, as to better work in the thick rainforest, leaving my long blond curls, which were honestly more trouble to keep up then they were worth, in my quarters. I wore a white undershirt and brown pants- humble clothing, the kind I wore to avoid attention. My mistake was that it only avoided attention from the Spanish.
It was early evening when it happened, atop a forested hill that overlooked the city, as I had just completed my topography of said hill. I had to get back to civilization before night’s dangers emerged, but that was never an issue. At least, I didn’t think so. There were obviously suspicious ruffles of leaves and underbrush behind me, but my overconfident ears failed to discern it until too late.
That dress of mine? Perfect for blending in with civilization, but in the jungle, I stuck out like a sore thumb to the natives who still claimed it. And that’s exactly what happened.
“Hiyyaaa!” Yelled a feminine voice from behind me, breaking through the tough leaves of her arboreal cover. My body reacted instantly, reflexes turning me around and jumping back, barely out of the way of what I soon saw was my attacker’s stone knife, but I wasn’t fast enough to totally avoid it. The razor-sharp tip of it sliced though the brown fabric of my pants, leaving a bloody cut right above my knee.
“Agh! Holy shit!” I yelled, saying my first English in months as I looked at my attacker- a native woman, face painted with white and red lines, animal hides hanging over her womanly parts. She was muscular, but not to an absurd degree, leaving supple flesh on every inch of her exposed, savage body. Her breasts were bare, covered only by white paint smeared on her perky teats, each boob symmetrically round and bouncy. Even her face was pretty, despite an ugly black eye color and the typical angular Aztec nose.
My exclamation puzzled her, “That wasn’t spanish, white man,” she said in clear, albeit accented spanish, “What are you?” She held her knife to my neck.
“I am English, serving as a foreigner among the Spanish,” I growled.
She let her guard down, “I am Xochil of the Aztec resistance,” she said, clearly unable to speak any other language I’d understand, “if you aren’t one of the Españolas, can you aid in our people’s struggle?”
“Why do you trust me?” I ask, “I’m still a white man,” I stand up straight, realizing she’s nearly a full foot shorter than me.
“Because your good looks and strong form seem blessed by the gods more than any other men I’ve met.”
“How many have you?”
“That is of no concern!” She fumed, pointing her knife back at me, “now, are you willing to help or not?”
Help a savage? “Hell no,” I replied, lunging at her, only barely missing the knife as I dove down beside her to knock her smaller body over. She still swung that knife, going for my legs. I dodged, but she once again snagged my pants on the knife, this time both legs at once. When I rolled away, the entire garment peeled off.
We both got up, a tall blonde white man fighting this nimble little savage in a forest clearing. Now, as her painted breasts hung off her beating chest, my manhood hung down from my loins. I cursed my misfortune- the size of it would surely impede my fighting capabilities. But I was a soldier. I’d carry on.
It turned out, though, that I didn’t much have to. She gazed upon my naked lower half, eyes wide open and jaw slack, even her grip on the knife loosened. “What… is tha-“
I took advantage of that, swinging my leg around and kicking her in the side, sending her to the soft dirt and the knife down the hill into the underbrush somewhere.
I put my foot down on top of her chest. “Wait!” She gasped, “what- what is that thing!?” She asked, pointing at the pale white dick that hung down towards her. Her finger grazed the tip accidentally.
“It’s my cock,” I growl at the stupid Aztec, “never seen one before?”
“I have but- it’s- so huge! That is far too big to be a penis!”
I scoffed. Sure, I was well above average, but her wide-eyed response was unneeded at best.
“I’m serious!” she insisted, grating my ears with that Spanish, “how’d you get that?”
“What do you have to compare it to?” I ask, moving my boot up to her throat, scraping the soft skin between her tits.
“Th-the men of my village! My husband and my brothers- I’ve seen them all, but are you sure there’s nothing wrong with what you have there?” It was very, very obvious that she knew more than she led on.
“You have a husband?” I scoffed at the insinuation.
“Well- he’s our village leader, and I’m in his harem! I’ve never slept with him though!”
“Why did I need to know that?”
She froze, lips going limp, “Heh heh…”
“Hell, why did you wait for me to speak before you attacked? And why do you know such good Spanish, if you hate them enough to trust and Englishman?”
“If you want the truth- I hesitated because I found you- erm- highly attractive.”
“Is that it?” I glare at her, not accepting excuses.
“Yes!” She pleased, “I don’t want to harm any natural beauty! It would offend the gods!”
I rolled my eyes at that, but noticed something else- a distinct drop of moisture shimmering between her thighs, where her loincloth was soaked. I knew enough colonists with native wives or mistresses to know what was going on.
“You’re wet.”
She froze. “N-no. Well, yes. There was a puddle!”
“Don’t lie to me, idiot. You loved the sight of this, didn’t you?” I took my boot off her and shook my cock, feeling it begin to swell.
“N-no!” she got up and backed away, and was visibly very shaky, “It was an accident- I wanted to cut your legs so you couldn’t walk! I- I- I don’t want to see that thing! I don’t want to sleep with a white man! Stay away!”
I calmly walked towards the frantic, unarmed young woman, unafraid, “I never said anything about sleeping with me- that was your idea.”
“No! Go away, white devil!” She cried, still staring at my dick.
“Why? You wanted to kill me, so I think whatever I do will be justified- oh, and you’re getting wetter.”
“No!” she whimpered, “My body betrays me, but my heart will not! I will never betray the Aztec people by defiling my body with a white man!” She backed up against a tree
“So this-” I shake my cock, “Doesn’t turn you on? I wonder, if you’re not one of the harem girls who sleeps with your husband, have you ever had sex?”
“My sister-wives p-pleasure me! I don’t need that- that- that ugly white thing!”
I walked up to her, grabbing her arms, looking right into her scared eyes, “Once again, I never mentioned that. Why would you think something like that?” I breathed, not even inches from her brown little face.
She just whimpered again. I pushed up against her, letting my cock cleave her sweet thighs apart. She didn’t protest.
“I-I hate white men…” she stammered, but despite herself, she tugged at the string of her tanned hide loincloth and allowed it to fall to the ground. She was completely naked. My cock wrestled against her clenching thighs, winning the prize of her wet, surprisingly pink pussy.
“Do you really?” I asked.
“Yes- Tezcatlipocas forgive me,” She closed her eyes tight and brought her legs up on me, to which I replied in turn by pulling her up. As much as I didn’t act like it, this was my first time too, and I was eager to break in this uppity Aztec. I brought her down on her cock, and in the little clearing in the massive Mexican jungle, she screamed her heart out.
“It’s- so big!” I rolled my eyes. She wasn’t very original, was she? Still very tight though, but easy for my manhood to burrow deep into. “Ah! Too deep! Too deep!” She cried, tears welling up above her red facepaint. I let up slightly, pulling off from the tree and landing on the soft earth.
“You’re so big- so strong,” She crossed her feet behind me, almost pulling my weight more onto her, “You’re so different from pleasure from a woman. You’re big and rough and- oooh,” I started thrusting, slamming her back into the damp dirt. Nature smelled sweet, and so did her juices flowing onto my shaft, dripping onto the ground.
“Bigger than any of your men, I’m sure.”
She didn’t process the question for a moment, too caught up and glassy-eyed in her not-so-virginal-anymore pleasure to properly respond. “Y-yes,” she concluded, sucking some drool back into her mouth, “Tall and strong… but… this isn’t right. I- I can’t be with a white man!”
“If I’m that much bigger and rougher, why stop now? No matter what, every other time you have sex in your life, you’ll compare it to this one. Do you want regrets?” I knew it was wrong too- race mixing, fornication, disgusting, wet acts, but it felt so good. She clearly loved it too.
“Fuck! Fuck me!” She moaned, then screaming out some Nahuatl obscenities I didn’t understand, but got what she wanted to convey. It was like she totally forgot my question. Better that way. I pushed down her shoulders feeling her supple breasts, not quite as full or creamy as well-fed white women’s, but they’d do for this wild woman, painted face and tits looking out of control as they were given the ride of their life.
Her insides were just as wild as she looked. This pussy would be wasted on a lesser man, a blazing hot, bumpy, clenching furnace that cried out with lewd sounds thrist after thrust. Her heat was almost too much- almost. But clearly my dick was already too much for her primitive little mind to handle, so I wasn’t going to lose mine like my member between her primitive little hips. Though I wouldn’t mind. Just looking at how I made her white-streaked belly bugle up with every inch I pumped into her.
I could feel her wetness gathering around him and the walls of her pussy shuddered and squeezed. I plowed her (more literally than was usually said) into the dirt, my entire cock inside her. She growled like an animal, but mostly just panted like a dog.
She made attempts to do things like lick her fingers, or get that wetness on her reddish-brown rock-hard little nipples, but the way her body shook and bounced didn’t let her. Just how she couldn’t resist her body’s desire for my nude white form, she was so overloaded with hot, violent pleasure that she couldn’t do anything to even increase it. I was totally in control of her. And by the look on her face, in her steamy, small, smiling mouth to her half-shut, tear streaked eyes, she loved the way I controlled her.
It was becoming a little clear she didn’t actually hate white men.
I grabbed her, pulled her up to me from underneath, grabbing at her vulnerable back, feeling her dirty skin, covered in soil as fertile as she felt with those gyrating hips desperate to milk every pleasure my loins could give her. Leaves were in her hair, her paint was smudged, and she wanted more.
Her ass, feeling the bounce of my balls as I slammed into her nonstop, got a nice firm squeeze. Her cheeks were somewhat underdeveloped, firm and fleshy but not quite child bearing. I didn’t anticipate having children with her- another way fate would prove me wrong.
I sat up, impressed by the divot I carved into the dirt with her eager body. As the sun dipped below her horizon, she sucked on my collarbone, curled up with only the tiniest little whimpers coming from the mouth that twenty minutes ago hurled hatred at me. I just held on tight to her buttcheecks as I let her ride me.
I threw my head back as I felt I was cumming, giving Xochil an invitation to suck on my neck as well. Her eyes were more focused now, more clearly and unashamedly lusting than before. The widened as they felt something new- a recurring theme. This time, it was a rush of my cum shooting into her stretched-out pussy.
Immediately, I felt every spot, every pumping vessel and broken-in bit of her cunt squeezing tight, swallowing up my thick sperm, some even shooting out from under her clit. Her eyes were fluttering and her lips were slack- this was her body, and not her. By now though, she’d learned to listen to her body’s most taboo desires. She came with me.
“Do you still hate white men?” I asked, looking at her face as she collapsed in the ground.
She simply shook her head with a smile, most of her facepaint replaced with spit, sweat, and semen.
I left her there, panting and defeated, in the dirt, my cum dripping from her warm, used slit. I felt the power of conquest right then and there, walking home through the twilight of the jungle as I finally understood why colonization was so popular. I didn’t look back.
I found the knife at the bottom of the hill, taking it with me in one hand, while I held up the modesty cloth that used to be my pants that I tied around my waist with the other. I threw the weapon in the lake as I went home to my room above the barracks. I didn’t eat dinner, but slept well knowing I had fed Xochil the best meal of her life.
In the middle of the night, the breeze of the moonlight air through my window felt a little too noticeable. I was sure I closed it before I went to bed. Before I got up, though, I heard my floorboards creak. Looking up, I saw a figure in the shadows.
“Who’s there? Show yourself.” I demanded.
Out stepped Xochil.
“You think I couldn’t find you, white man? I could smell my scent on you,” she walked towards me. I began to regret leaving her there.
Instead of attacking me though, she got on her knees before me. “I want that scent to be on you every day and night,” she grabbed at my bulge.
I smiled. “So, are you leaving your people?”
Her answer surprised me- she simply pulled down my pants, and, as my cock swung against her face, said, “Yes I am.”
