This is chapter 6, part 1 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here.
Chapter 6 – Part 1, The Politician Rides María
The gym is where he discovered her, a politician from Sacramento whose district was the east bay. He was black, almost handsome, well dressed, well educated, single, and expertly adept at spending taxpayers’ money for his personal pleasure.
María said she noticed him watching her from another exercise machine, then suddenly he was right there, introducing himself. He invited her to a fruit malt, and smoothly drew out her story without hitting on her. He found her accent as exotic and charming as I had.
Then he made his pitch, “I’m a state senator in Sacramento and I need a Latina escort for public appearances in various neighborhoods. You are perfect – beautiful, bilingual, and classy. I have a group of classy escorts, Asian, black, and white, depending on the constituency, but I need an escort for my Hispanic voters.”
María brushed him off, “Sorry, I’m married.”
“That doesn’t matter, all of the escorts are married and use alias names. It’s not exactly a paid position. I’ll pay for your evening gowns and other clothes, and for coiffure, manicures, and so on. You can keep all the clothes, and you’ll get new clothes for each event. For most events, you have to be dressed to kill. You’ll get a private limo for transportation, and you’ll meet some extremely important and powerful people. If you make a good impression, this could help you a lot in your career.”
María said she was merely curious about his intentions, “Sounds a little iffy, what does an escort do?”
“There will be 2-4 events per month, and I’ll send a limousine to pick you up and drop you off. A typical event starts with a cocktail, two or three boring speeches lasting 20-30 minutes, hob-nobbing with the rich and famous for an hour. Then I’ll take you out for dinner and drinks with some of the politicians and their wives or escorts.”
“That sounds kinda dull – that’s it?”
“It is dull unless you’re a politician or lobbyist, but afterward comes the fun part. I take to you my apartment or an hotel, and I will ride you all night, sending you home the next morning.”
María wasn’t sure of what she heard, “What do you mean, ‘ride’?”
“If you don’t know what that is, you’re not the right woman for this. If you accept, you have to be on The Pill, and get checked for venereal diseases.”
“María said she was stunned. It was the confidence with which he said it: “I. will. ride. you. all. night.” She believed him, that he could actually do it. And she was absolutely willing to be ridden for a whole night. By any man, for that matter, but since she already had a pre-disposition for black men from our Guatemalan days, that clinched the deal in her mind. She stuttered, “I’m not sure, I’m married, I’d have to think about it…”
He offered her his phone number in case she was interested. When she stood up, she felt wetness in her vulva, and saw him admiring the large dark spot on her yoga pants. Her hand trembled as she took his business card. She was mortified – he had already corralled and broken her. All that was left were the logistics of getting María from the gym to her first ride.
María was excited and wanted to do it, but she wanted my opinion. I said I’d think about it for a few days, I’d need some time to check him out. I asked around at work and received an extreme range of opinions from ‘the next messiah’ to a ‘slick willie’ to a ‘slime ball’. I went to the library on my lunch break to look at the newspaper archives. I decided that ‘slick willie’ was gross flattery, and he was not the type of man I wanted ‘riding’ my Maria. I’d tell Maria ‘no’.
I decided too late. When I arrived home that afternoon, Maria, all dressed up, waited by the door to go out. His credit card and shopping instructions had arrived that afternoon. She had exaggerated the importance of my opinion. She had called the politician within minutes of his proposition and accepted. She just wanted my rubber stamp. This was for real. I hoped none of his slime would stick to her.
She had problems pronouncing his name correctly, so we nicknamed him the Pol.
We went to the specialty store, where they had the most elegant women’s dress I had ever seen. The manager was expecting her, and quickly picked-out a black, slinky, floor length gown, matching shoes, belt, purse, and other accessories including what looked like real gold jewelry. And, of course, thigh-high hosiery, garter belt and bra. She tried out the gown, shoes and accessories for me, and got my hormones surging. Then she went in the back to look at panties and try on the lingerie. None of the items had a price tag, and no prices were mentioned. Still hormonal, I took her home and ‘rode’ her until I played out, about 50 minutes. She went to a clinic for a VD test, but did not start again on the Pill – she wanted to get pregnant but was already infertile.
Her first event was several days away, and the date was good for her, right after her period finished. On event day, María went for a professional coiffure, manicure/pedicure, and makeup, the best available, all at taxpayer expense. Late afternoon, she dressed completely. The gown was slinky and clingy – it molded around her garter belt, hosiery straps, bra and panty. Anyone that saw her knew exactly what lingerie she was wearing. She wore Jungle Gardenia. My heart dropped onto the floor. Once again, I realized that my ‘guapa‘ was no longer – she had matured into a stunning elegant woman. And I wanted to fuck her on the spot, but she brushed me off and told me another rule: no other man could have her on the event day, and no other man could ever touch the panties he bought for her. I grabbed my camera and we did a quick session of her first political soirée, including her forbidden panties.
Our Nanny checked-in, and then the limousine whisked María away. I spent the night in agony, the knife in my groin became a huge sword and twisted all night. My testicles hurt and I frightened the nanny when I asked her to kick me in the testicles. When I asked her for a fuck, she was even more frightened – I didn’t sleep at all.
In the morning, I went to work as usual, and María called me when she returned around 11:00 AM – she said she was fine and was going to bed. I rushed home at 5:30 PM and she was up, but she was not fine. She was depressed. María knew and accepted that she was a slut by conventional moral standards, but now she was a paid-for slut. She was trying to work-out in her mind the difference between her and a whore and a prostitute. I didn’t see a good ending for this line of thought, so I distracted her by asking about her evening.
The evening had proceeded exactly as the politician had described. Boring speeches, pompous attendees, a nice dinner, then he ‘rode’ her the entire night.
The ride was all his – the all-night part came from cocaine – he introduced her to cocaine, of which they took a short line every 2-3 hours. It was her first time, and she said it kept her awake, gave her energy, made her sexually aggressive, and made the sexual sensations much more acute. She liked it, but said the after-effects were unpleasant, and she wouldn’t ever do it outside of that situation.
When they entered the hotel room for the ride, he insisted they begin with a shower together. He soaped her up, then pulled her legs up around his waist and kissed her deeply while he bounced her on his penis. He didn’t ejaculate then, and he was very controlled throughout the night. After the shower, he re-dressed her only with the lingerie, then he showed her how to inhale cocaine. And just before each subsequent cocaine dose, they showered together again. She loved the showers, that was when the skin color contrasts were most exciting, when they were wet.
The politician was an accomplished lover, with a big penis and the skin contrast that María loved. The cocaine must have affected her memory – she couldn’t remember all the positions they had tried. Or maybe there were too many positions to remember. There must have been some unusual positions because her muscles were sore all over her body.
The Pol dominated her, handled her, manhandled her body in impossible positions, pulling and stretching and bending her to fit his desire. She was sore in every muscles, bruised in the mouth and vagina and anus. As he had promised, he had rode her all night, and promised her much more of the same. And she desperately wanted it, right now. After just one night, he owned my wife. She told me the details while I gave her a two hour full-body massage.
He had kissed and caressed every inch of her body, including between her toes and her anus. She returned the favor to him, except for the toes. She discovered that if she ran her tongue along the crack of his buttocks, he went bonkers. Every time she felt satiated and ready to sleep, they showered, inhaled more coke and started anew.
As the last act, he anus-fucked her in a complicated position which she refused to describe to me; this was what he really meant when he said ‘ride’. She said she didn’t want to do it, but it was part of the deal, another rule she hadn’t told me about. He was very gentle about it. Covering his fingers with a condom and lots of lubricant, he opened her up with one, then two, then three fingers. Another condom and lube for his penis, and he was in. She said it hurt like hell at first, but he stayed in slow for a long time, and caressed her breasts and vulva as he gently stroked her. She said the anal sex was OK, but she would never volunteer for it.
They showered one last time around 9:00 AM, he physically shredded apart the single-man panty, they had breakfast, and the limo brought her home.
As he escorted her down to the limo, he said, “You’d make a perfect politician’s wife – if you want to leave your loser husband, I’ll take you, what do you think?”
“Well?” I asked.
“I told him I’d have to think about it. I was bothered by the cocaine, the anus-fuck, his lifestyle, and his stable of escorts, but YES, I would divorce you and marry him. But NO, I have a son that needs his father. And the politician doesn’t love me, he just wants a trophy wife. I didn’t tell him I have a child, and I doubt he’d accept that. But YES, if you stop me from seeing him, we’re divorced.”
I came that close to losing my wife-slut – thank the Sacred Whore Goddess Isis for gang-rapes!
End of book content.
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