Gone Fishing

Today was the day Chico and I were going to go fishing. Or so I thought. It is hard to know exactly what we agreed on, or if we were agreeing to the same thing at all. But as I understood it we would meet at ten after working out and go down to the beach where he would show me how to fish.

At ten he was nowhere to be seen and I figured we had gotten our wires crossed. Not speaking the same language was beginning to seem a formidable barrier to hooking up. So I went home and jumped on the computer to translate a text message into Spanish: Where are you? I thought you were going to catch a big fish for me and cook me dinner. Meet you at 11 at the Y?

Then I turned around and drove back to the Y. As I pulled into the parking lot he pulled in behind me. I got out and we both started laughing, him babbling on in Spanish and me in English and both of us having no clue what the other was saying. I asked him if he wanted to go fishing still and he pointed to the sky and made his fingers wiggle like rain falling. I guess fish don't bite in the rain. I guess. Or he is sneakier than I give him credit for. But I insisted the rain wouldn't bother us so we got in his car and headed toward the beach.

On the way he asked where I lived and I indicated just around the corner from the beach. "Do you want to see my place?" I asked. He shot me look of am-I-understanding-you-correctly and said "yes." So we detoured a few blocks over and went around to my house.

Inside I gave him the tour and then I showed him how I translate from English to Spanish on the internet. We messed around with that for a while and I was able to get some of my questions answered. He's 44. He moved here from Mexico because it was too hard to make ends meet at home. Now he works in a large factory here making donuts. As we passed the laptop back and forth he would rest his hand on my leg, or my arm, or my shoulder. And it felt nice. He has a son who is in his twenties and two grandchildren who live here as well. The mother of his children is still in Mexico. I didn't find out any more details about her. Anyway, it became tiring typing our conversation back and forth, and frustrating how poorly the translation program really works so we stood up and awkwardly gathered our things to leave. After some small debate in my head I decided what the fuck and just leaned in and kissed him.

He was a tentative kisser who seemed to nibble my lips more then kiss. He had sharp ragged little teeth that, along with his scratchy face, made it feel like an animal was biting at my neck. He took his small hands and held my head back a bit and chewed on my ears, then, turning me around, he nibbled on the back of my neck while his hand almost covered my mouth, but not quite. His hands wandered down my neck until he was grabbing my breasts and mumbling something about my heart. I laughed and moved his hand up and towards the center of my chest so he could feel my heart beat.

I really wasn't planning on fucking him. I just wanted a kiss. And to go fishing. But as soon as he started to be the slightest bit controlling I changed my mind. I took his hand and led him back to my bedroom.

He pretty much immediately dropped his jeans and motioned for me to sit on the edge of the bed. We kissed some more, still those funny nibbly little kisses, and then I pulled him on top of me. I could feel his hard on pressing into me through my jeans. We kissed some more and then I pushed him off so I could take my pants off and grab a condom.

He pulled me back to the edge of the bed and lifted my legs in the air so he could take my panties off. Next thing I knew he was rubbing my clit with his fingers and getting down on his knees to go down on me. He began licking long slow strokes from my cunt to my clit. But somehow, despite being slow, he still managed to be rushed and hurried. Then he abruptly stood up with his cock in his hand and was handing me the condom. I'm really not all that skilled at putting those things on but I obliged anyway. He stood at the edge of the bed and entered me and fucked me like he hadn't fucked in years. Our bodies slapped together and he panted from the exertion. I teased him since I regulalry do an hour of cardio while he just spends the whole time lifting weights. He came quickly, very quickly, and quietly, and then pulled out and stood straight up. He had my juice all over his face and he wiped it off on his shirt. I handed him a towel, which he used to wipe off his cock. Then he put on his jeans and went to the bathroom.

Huh, I thought. That was it? After all that lead up? Oh well. Maybe we really should have gone fishing.