The House Of Robles Ch. 29

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When Foes Collide II

A familiar, red SUV pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot, and luckily, found an empty spot in the guest parking stalls. The driver was none other than Carmela Diaz-Robles. With the eyes of a hawk, the Latina scanned the entirety of the vehicles sitting in the day’s dwindling sunlight. A moment later, she spotted her sister-in-law’s car, but her husband’s vehicle was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it, he’s not here!” She grumbled.

Despite the setback, Carmela was not a woman who would allow her self to be deterred. Not any more. The bronze-skinned beauty was absolutely certain that Frankie had gotten the news about what she’d done recently. That had been her most recent infidelity, when Frankie’s cheating slut of a wife had not only sucked off his boss, but had also gotten her ass stuffed by one of his coworkers. The cunning woman had no idea of how her husband had reacted to her indiscretions, because her husband had never called her and said a word about it. Carmela had planned for and expected a confrontation with Frankie. It was crucial that her husband do that, because that’s when she was going to lay her secret trap on him. That’s when she was going to snare him into her clutches once again. But it hadn’t happened. Frankie had left her out in the cold yet again.

She could still get him back, Carmela thought, before she corrected herself. She would get him back, no matter what the cost. The next item on the woman’s master plan had been to show up randomly at the places Frankie frequented the most. Driving back to his workplace was now out of the question. It would be too easy for Frankie to cause a commotion there, and for his colleagues to get into the middle of their domestic squabble. Already Carmela had gone to his parents’ house a few times, with no luck. Now, she’d come here to his sister’s apartment.

And she wanted Frankie. She needed him, bad. Really bad!

Ever since Not-So-Hairy Jerry had introduced her to the joys of anal intercourse, Carmela had developed an unwavering fixation on it. She’d started small; with her middle finger first, but she’d since then she’d matured into using the rounded end of her hairbrush. The stupid brush had poked and stung at her thighs, Carmela recalled, and its end was rough against her flesh until she’d started coating the damned thing with disinfectant jelly. After that, she’d been able to shove that thing far enough into herself that the bristles were jabbing at her asshole.

That hadn’t been enough. The brush was barely thicker than her finger, prompting her to start prowling around the house and looking for something even larger to play with. Something that would increase her pleasure far more than that stupid little brush could. And not too long after that, she’d found it.

Carmela was vacuuming the apartment one day, shuffling back and forth across her bedroom floor, when the usual erotic thoughts began occupying her mind. She started to wish that Frankie were there, even if he was still angry with her, because she knew exactly how to make him forget all of that. Within moments, she would have gotten him to drop his pants and push her onto the bed, where he would most definitely fuck the shit out of her until she decided she had enough.

Absently, on that day she’d gripped the handle of her vacuum cleaner. As she glanced down at the handle, she noticed the thick, black piece of plastic in an entirely new light. The grip was ergonomically contoured to fit into a human hand, with a small rounded end, followed by a slight narrowing. Past this, it bulged out at the point where her fingers wrapped around it. She estimated the length of the handle to be at about five or six inches, before it curved down at an angle and widened into something… unmanageable.

Carmela had shut the vacuum off and walked over to the bed with it. Once she’d taken a seat, she leaned forward to study the handle closer. On a lark, she’d opened her mouth wide enough to see how much of it would fit into her mouth. That was when she’d discovered that the handle was only a teeny bit narrower than her husband’s cock.

Carmela stood the vacuum upright and she stared wonderingly at it. Then, she thought of how that long piece of plastic might feel if she stuck it into the place that was giving her all these cravings. Carmela felt her body anticipating the encounter, as eagerly as it had anticipated all of her other previous sexual adventures.

“Mr. Hoover, I’m feeling a little naughty right now.” Carmela nearly salivated as she imagined her newest fantasy. “How would you like to go up my ass?”

When the vacuum didn’t decline, she made her move on it. Half a dozen regular pillows, body pillows and cushions went on the floor, followed by the falling vacuum. She placed the vacuum on its front, with its handle up in the air and secured by the various pillows under it. When she felt everything was in position, she took the final step. This was to coat the plastic handle with jelly, and to smear an additional finger of the stuff up her butt.

The Pendik Escort grip looked like a little black cock, Carmela considered, as she carefully descended her lower half onto it. It prodded at her butt-crack, until she’d adjusted both the vacuum and her body into a more sensual alignment. The little knob end slipped into her, making her shiver with the sheer audacity of what she was doing. Once Carmela had gotten comfortable enough, she was fucking it. Her fingers rubbed furiously at her pussy while she was doing this. Too quickly, she found her lean, shapely frame building up to orgasm. Carmela came, more excitedly and more prolonged than she normally would. Her expulsion was tremendous, leaking out all over and drenching her fingers.

It was so unexpectedly gratifying, Carmela thought, as she removed herself from the molded piece of plastic and began to inspect it. She’d have to clean the stupid thing, she knew, walking away to grab the window cleaner and an old towel. The sultry woman went on to wipe away any trace of what she had just done. Then, she put the vacuum into the closet and went on with her daily business.

But that was only the first time. Since then, she’d brought Mr. Hoover out to play whenever she’d been feeling that special itch. After a few minutes of careful preparation, that ready handle went up her ass again.

The last time, Carmela recalled, she’d leaned over on the edge of the bed and slid her tight butt onto that harsh plastic handle. Over her shoulder she watched what she was doing in the full-size mirror. Carmela got turned on in an overwhelming way, every time she would witness the vacuum penetrating her like this, every time she saw the way the long handle pushed into her and disappeared into her asshole. The result was that each and every one of her orgasms felt better than the last one.

Her next fantasy involved having a real man do this to her. That man, she resolved, was going to be none other than her husband, the elusive Frankie Robles. And now, she was in the parking lot by his sister’s apartment, determined to find her man.

As was her habit, Carmela glanced at her face in the SUV’s mirror, finding absolutely nothing wrong with it. She looked down at her attire next. That morning, she was wearing a tee shirt colored in heather gray, with a high-low hem and the shoulders cut out. Her lower half was adorned with form-hugging white jeans.

With her sexy appraisal done, Carmela arrogantly stepped out of her vehicle. Employing the haughty walk of a runway model, she approached the security door that blocked the parking section from the rest of the complex. A temporary roadblock halted the woman’s progress because she didn’t have a key to this one bastard door. Luckily a couple of kids were playing ball nearby. Carmela enticed one of them to come over and open it.

Full of confidence and fire, Carmela strode through the complex. She found the door to Melinda’s apartment cracked open. Brazenly, she pushed at it and walked inside as if she owned the place. Carmela had hardly taken two steps inside, when Melinda’s curious face appeared from around a corner of the apartment’s tiny kitchen. Frankie’s sibling was wearing a tee shirt in white with gray three-quarter sleeves, and the words ‘designated kisser’ emblazoned over the chest. Fading and distressed cut-off shorts covered her lower half. The shorts were in such a bad state that the legs were all frayed. The always fashion-conscious Carmela winced at the other woman’s drab assortment of clothing.

“Bitch, you don’t just walk into somebody’s home, you knock first.” Melinda snapped at her, instantly irritated by the other woman’s obvious bad vibe.

“Where’s Frankie?” Carmela countered.

“He’s not here.”

“I know that, because his car isn’t in the parking lot. Where is he?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Melinda barked. A second later, a smug look crossed the stripper’s face. “Maybe he’s getting laid right now, with somebody who doesn’t cheat on him!”

Carmela’s impatience got hold of her. “Tell me where he is, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m going to make you tell me!” She threatened.

If there was one thing a bully like Melinda couldn’t tolerate, it was being bullied around by somebody else. She disappeared into the kitchen, but only for a quick moment, as if she had to finish something up or put something away. Once that was taken care of, she strolled back into the living room and set her hands defiantly on her hips.

“Why don’t you get the fuck out of my apartment?” Melinda menaced.

The air between them became as icy as frozen tundra.

The two angry women sized themselves up.

Carmela stood at five-eight, with not an ounce of fat on her body. She was a workout fanatic, and could dependably be found at the gym three to four days out of every seven. She was one hundred and fifteen pounds of lean, toned muscle, with an emphasis on high intensity cardio. Because she was an alpha female, she was not about to be denied by a woman whom she thought was leagues below Kurtköy Escort her lofty standards.

Across the living room, Melinda’s height measured up to five-four. She tipped the scales at about the same spot as her counterpart. This was a tough woman who made her living in exotic dancing, and who was constantly inventing new routines and regimens with which to sculpt her body and strengthen her legs. That dedication was coupled with a mean streak that had evolved from her being brought up on the streets of a rough and tumble neighborhood.

Melinda would not have minded at all getting into a tussle with this bold bitch that had just invaded her place of residence. She could bring Miss High And Mighty down a few notches, just to show Carmela that despite her fancy trappings and her little air of superiority, she was still just a bitch from the same part of town that Melinda came from.

“Did you want me to spell that out for you?” Melinda further taunted her adversary. “Get. The fuck. Out!”

Carmela swiveled on her designer sandals and stomped over to the front door. She slammed it shut, hard enough to knock Melinda’s clock off the wall and send it tumbling down to the carpet with a crash. She turned toward her nemesis and glared.

“No hair-pulling and no face shots.” Melinda started across the living room. “Can you handle that, you full-time slut?”

Carmela did not respond verbally. Instead, she marched directly and deliberately at Melinda. The pair of sexual titans met in the center of the living room. It could be said that Melinda fought like a man, as she held up her left forearm to block anything Carmela threw at her, while she punched out viciously with her right. Two of her hard strikes caught Carmela high on the shoulder and on the chest, hard enough to halt the other woman’s momentum.

Carmela countered the attack by slashing out a leg that caught Melinda’s middle. Successfully, Carmela had knocked the wind out of her nemesis. She slammed two hammer fists into Melinda’s back, before she shrieked in fury and pushed the stripper onto the coffee table.

Melinda went past the coffee table, and into the narrow space between that piece of furniture and the couch, just as Carmela had hoped. With Melinda’s thick frame partially pinned against the heavy couch, Carmela dove on top of her and started raining down blows, at least until Melinda got her arms up and started blocking her.

They wrestled there, in that confined space between the coffee table and the couch, until Melinda managed to get some leverage. Using the considerable strength of her legs, she pushed out against the couch, grinding Carmela’s frame against the table until she ended up on top of her. The sound of Carmela’s thirty-five dollar shirt ripping further enraged the classy woman. Her ensuing frenzy overtook her and made her reckless, serving to give the advantage to her enemy, but this lasted only a brief moment.

Melinda ended up with her lower body caught between the other woman’s legs. The fierce Carmela was also struggling to free herself, as Melinda managed to clamp her strong hands onto both of her wrists. They’d gotten themselves into a spot where neither one had the upper hand against the other. Melinda’s breaths were hot and heavy on Carmela’s face, and they were both glaring into one another’s eyes.

“You ripped my shirt, you bitch!” Carmela spat out. “You owe me a new one!”

“I don’t owe you anything; that’s what you get for storming into my apartment like you just did.” Melinda brought her face down closer. “What are you going to do now, huh? I’ve got you right where I want to!”

Carmela tried to free her arms by wrangling back and forth against Melinda, until the stripper managed to roll over. Although they were still pushing and pulling, Melinda successfully used her full body weight to keep her opponent pinned down.

“Get off of me!” Carmela demanded.

“I don’t think so.” Melinda replied, realizing she had Carmela in a bad spot. The stripper looked directly into the other woman’s eyes. “Let’s not fight anymore. You just say that I got the best of you, and I’ll let you go.”

“You did not get the best of me!” Carmela balked.

Roughly, Carmela began trying to squirm out of Melinda’s hold again. When she couldn’t, a lot of the frustration she had over her husband started welling up inside of her. Everything she tried kept blowing up in her face, and she was sick and tired of it! With her body going through anger, bitterness and frustration, Carmela’s only remaining option was to glower up at the woman holding her captive. Melinda didn’t look angry anymore, Carmela noticed. She looked… what was that in her face?

“Do you remember that one day, when we were playing volleyball in the pool?” Melinda asked, staring back at her. “I wanted to kick your ass that day, because you kept spiking the ball at me. You remember? You kept trying to show me up in front of all those guys that were in the pool with us. I kept asking myself later, why had I gotten so upset with you? I mean, Maltepe Escort there were like ten guys in the pool, so why should I care if you were trying to get some of them to give you attention? I know I can get plenty of guys on my own, so why did that bother me so much?”

Below her, Carmela’s arms went lax, finally, as she tried to comprehend what Melinda was getting at.

“I figured it out.” Melinda revealed. “You’re hotter than I am. You’re prettier than I am, you have a better body than I do, and you probably could take all those guys away from me, if you really wanted to.”

Carmela was stunned. “I thought the same thing about you. That’s why I was trying so hard to get their attention away from you, so they could look at me instead. I hate being second-best to anybody.”

“That’s what makes you a bitch.” Melinda replied. “But that’s okay, because you know that I’m just as much a bitch as you are. I’m going to let go of your hands, but I want you to keep them exactly where I put them. Okay?”

Carmela’s first impression was that it was a trick. Guardedly, she allowed Melinda to slide her arms down past her chest and abdomen. When Carmela’s hands were down by her thighs, Melinda lifted them and put them squarely on her ass. Her big, thick ass, Carmela considered, her big, sexy ass.

Tenderly, Melinda’s hands came back up to Carmela’s face. Melinda ran her fingers over her capture’s cheeks, over her lips, and up to where they coursed through Carmela’s silky smooth hair.

“Tell me that you think I’m hotter than you.” Melinda requested, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I did think that.” Carmela admitted. “I’m thinking that right now.”

“So what happens when two hot women get together?” Melinda asked.

Carmela’s mind was reeling with confusion. She’d come here to get answers about her husband, and she’d armed herself with a black attitude and violence to make certain she wouldn’t leave without those answers. What the hell had just happened? Now, she was lying on the floor, and Frankie’s sister, whom she’d just been fighting with, was coming on to her! Melinda was a woman! She’d never even considered doing anything with a woman before, because she’d never thought a woman could possibly satisfy her in the same way that a man could.

“Tell me that I got the best of you.” Melinda said, but it didn’t sound like a taunt anymore. It sounded more like a flirt.

Carmela’s hands coursed over the curvy expanse of the stripper’s rear end. She’d been so jealous of that ass before, because it was so pronounced and perfect. It was a J-Lo type ass, guaranteed to make men’s mouths water, and to make the covers of the tabloids and the celebrity gossip shows. And now, she was lucky enough to hold it. Tentatively, Carmela gave that big, delicious ass a squeeze, and it felt so good to do it!

Above her, she observed that Melinda was squirming sensually, as if the stripper could barely control herself.

“Tell me.” Melinda insisted.

Carmela started wondering what it would be like with a woman. Although her pride would never admit to defeat, this once, just this once, she decided to acquiesce. “You got the best of me. You won, that’s why you’re on top right now.”

Melinda’s head lowered, until her mouth was resting against Carmela’s ear. Softly, she said, “You got the best of me, too. We both think we’re hot, but not as hot as the woman we’re holding. That makes us both even, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I can agree with that.”

“Tell me that you want me.” Melinda changed tactics.

Carmela thought this over, but it didn’t take her too long to say, “I’ve never been with a woman before, but I want you. I want you to be the first one.”

“Ever since that day at the pool, I’ve wanted you, too.” Melinda replied.

Carmela watched, as the other woman lifted her body up on all fours. She watched as Melinda reached for her middle and did two things. With a single hand, she popped the button on her shorts, and she undid the zipper. Then, Melinda settled her voluptuous body back on top of hers.

Carmela’s mouth opened up, as Melinda’s lips came down to greet it. The stripper’s lips were supple against hers, and her kisses tender. From the start, Carmela had decided to give as good as she got, so the kissing soon became mutual. Two brand new lovers became enthralled with one another, down on the carpet, in that narrow space between the couch and the table.

Carmela knew the reason why Melinda had undone the front of her shorts, too. She slid her enthusiastic hands back over the stripper’s fat butt, no longer gentle but really groping at it. Next, she went to the waistband, which was now loose and inviting. Carmela slipped her fingers past the coarse denim, and onto bare, seductive flesh.

Melinda reached behind her, drawing the shorts down to reveal her exemplary rear end, to expose it to Carmela and to the room, and to the entire world it seemed. Carmela wasted no time in grasping it, kneading the meaty globes, becoming intoxicated by the resultant moans that were coming out of Melinda’s mouth. Sometimes those moans were close enough to filter into her needy mouth. Carmela was holding another woman’s bare ass in her hands. Not only that, but this was a woman whom she felt was every bit her rival when it came to looks and figure.

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