#3212: Colombia
Original photo: slut.social
Beatriz works as a bartender in a club in the heart of Bogota. During work hours, she meets a woman, Emilia, who catches her eye. Their night together turns more heated than either of them could've imagined.
We’d really love your support on our mission to create ethical erotic audio. To help keep the stories cuming please visit ourPatreon link below, thanks for all your help, foxy friends 🦊
https://www.patreon.com/cumwithus
So Enjoy our Erotic Audio Stories and Cum With Us
Listen on:
Transcript
I walked through the streets of Bogota feeling alive. It's hard not to when your whole life is tied to a place so full of color that you feel the beat of it in every part of you, even just walking past the streets. As complicated as the story of my country is, I could never picture being anywhere else. Perseverance and strength are in our blood, and I always thought there was something to the way hard times still made something out of us, the country never losing its bright colors or its thirst for life, not even when things got tough.
Most of my family worked far more traditional jobs than I did—fiber craft, leather work, others I couldn't name. But like any family tradition, it was meant to be broken, and it happened to be me who broke it. Though if you really think about it, I continued it, just differently. I was always drawn to fun and showy things, so falling into the club culture that ran through the city felt like a natural move. Working nights was grueling at first, but I adapted fast and came to like the pulse of it, seeing so many people dancing and losing themselves every time I showed up. That night ended differently than they usually did for me, and I couldn't complain about it.
It started slow, as usual, most people not turning up until close to midnight, so I had time to talk with a few regulars before the drinks really started to flow. I was used to noticing the same faces over time, but I also caught a new one. A young woman sat at the counter with a sad expression. She didn't say anything, didn't call me for a drink, and I wondered what she was even doing in the club if she wasn't after any fun. Certainly not with that look on her face. But I tried not to overthink it and just did my job. I got closer, offered a smile first, then asked if she wanted a drink. She sighed, ordering only soda. That was unusual. People like her, the ones obviously carrying something, usually jumped at the first chance to drown it in a glass, but she was different. Maybe that's why I took a closer look and decided it might be worth getting to know her.
Even though I was busy that night, I made sure to come back and check on her. Through my questions, I learned her name—Emilia—and then her story. For a woman as beautiful as she was, Emilia sure was unlucky. And even though her shiny blonde hair and the eyes that went with it were the last thing I needed to be thinking about, it was hard to ignore how attractive she was. Especially in that tight, shiny dress that left more than enough of her on show to make me want to take it off.
I leaned in closer to listen, and she smiled wider the more attention I gave her. Her story was old as time—a loving fiancé who turned out to be a cheating scumbag, never interested in making her happy, only in reaping the benefits of being with a beautiful woman. It wasn't unusual, but Emilia's reaction was. I expected her to dance, to go find someone who'd help her forget, but she preferred to stay with me at the counter, and that made me hopeful she might see something else in me, something we could connect over.
I wasn't one to bring clients home, even though I knew plenty of bartenders were. It just wasn't my thing. But talking with Emilia felt different, different enough that I was willing to give the pull between us a chance. Mostly because I could tell she wanted it too. The way she looked at me, the way she'd brush my hand when I leaned closer, all of it left me weak and warm all over. I wanted to take her home and show her some real fun. It was the only thing on my mind, and maybe I didn't have to get rid of it.
Emilia didn't dance with anyone, even when she was asked. She didn't drink, didn't talk to anyone else. My hopefulness told me she was waiting for me, and by the end of the night I was sure of it. I took my chance and invited her back to my place. Her smile grew wider when she agreed, and once my shift ended, I walked her outside and we caught a taxi. Even in the back of the car, we couldn't keep apart. I felt her hands on me, constantly touching. She looked at me with that bright smile, and I could tell how much she wanted us alone, to finally give in to whatever had been stirring since I first looked at her.
The moment I opened my apartment door we stumbled inside, holding onto each other, grabbing for clothes and hair, feeling the heat between us as we pressed close. Her lips found mine and it felt right. I pulled her closer by the hips, a moan dying between us. She was getting to me in more ways than one, and I knew the night ahead would carry a heat I'd never felt before.
She rubbed against me slowly, wanting more, wanting anything I'd give her, and I was ready to show her how good a time we could have. Once we made it to my bedroom, I did the thing I'd wanted since I met her—got Emilia out of that sparkly dress and laid her on my bed, the heat plain in her eyes. There was nothing on her but black lace panties, and I ran my fingers over the wetness between her legs, rubbing against the fabric slowly. She let out a soft moan, her chest rising. I put my mouth to her nipple and sucked, listening to the sound she made. The whimpers and pleas were music to my ears as I worked her clit through the fabric, teasing her more and more, feeling how badly she wanted it. At some point it became too much, and she grabbed my hand, begging for release. I couldn't deny her that, not when I wanted to see it just as badly.
I got off the bed to shrug out of my clothes and feel the cool air on my skin. With the windows open, the breeze moved freely through the apartment, and I let it caress me. I hooked my thumbs under the elastic of Emilia's panties and pulled them down slowly, exposing her. She was as wet as I'd guessed, all that want written across her face. She looked almost desperate as I came closer, touched her clit, felt it throb against my fingers. She wanted it so badly her body was nearly begging, and I was going to give it to her fast.
I pulled a magic wand from my drawer and turned it on. Surprise crossed Emilia's face, but only for a moment. I smiled as I climbed on top of her and put the toy between our bodies, the buzz of it hitting us both. We kissed sloppily as pleasure spread through us, building hotter, pulsing, taking every thought that wasn't about how good this felt. Emilia moaned into my mouth, and when the jolt rushed through me it left me helpless and overstimulated. I could hear her, see her pleasure too, and I kept kissing her through it until I pulled the toy away, leaving us both breathless but barely satisfied. We both needed more, and I knew there was only one way to show her how much I wanted her.
I rolled onto my side and turned to her, and she turned to me, our eyes meeting. She was still as hungry as I was, and there was only one solution for it. I put my hand between her legs and found her aching and open. She shifted to let me in, but she wasn't just going to lie there and take it. Her hand reached for me too, fingertips probing my opening. I moaned as she entered me, just as I did the same to her. We kissed again, tongues moving in the same rhythm our fingers did. I whimpered, feeling her work inside me. I knew she wanted to feel the same, so I matched her, giving back what she was giving me. Soon we were both drowning, right at the edge, and I couldn't think past the feeling of her inside me, her hand at my breast, teasing slow and deliberate.
It was hot and pulsing, like the want in me that only grew as Emilia touched and gripped my body with her free hand. All I could feel was the wet heat of her against my fingers, already soaking my arm to the wrist, already wrecking me. The moment she went tight around my fingers, her pleasure finally taking her, I felt the same. Maybe it was her orgasm that pushed me over at the end.
But even after we both finished, we kept stroking each other, kept kissing, kept holding on. It felt too good to break apart. Once we finally separated for breath, I asked Emilia if she was still thinking about her fiancé. She only laughed and said it was the last thing on her mind with this much fun to be had.