Date: Wed, 22 Sep 2010 14:30:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jan None <janmay696@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mexican Neighbor (lesbian/adult youth, oral anal. g/FF)

Warning:

This story is a work of fiction and contains
descriptions of explicit sexual acts between a girl
and two older women.  If this type of content
offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not
read it.

Author's Note:

This story is the property of the author. It can be
downloaded for personal reading, pleasure, or
sending to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them
on your own site, please contact the author for
permission.

Copyright 2010 Jan, All rights reserved

Please mail to janmay696@yahoo.com if you have
any suggestions for future stories.


                 Our Mexican Neighbor
                         By
                        Jan

	I grew up near the City of Fresno, California.
That is a farm community in the Central Valley.  It
had been mostly dry land farming until the State
Water Project made water available for better
irrigation.  Being a farm community, it has a strong
tradition of very conservative Republican values.
The depression brought a lot of dust bowl refugees
to the area.  You find two and three generations
that still maintain the accents of Arkies, Okies, and
Texans.  They brought with them their bias against
Mexicans.

	I was one of those fourth generation Okies.
Our family was just an average working group.  We
had worked our way from the fields to jobs in the
agribusiness industry where we earned an average
living.  Even with all of the prejudice against Blacks
and Mexicans we lived in a mixed neighborhood.  We
were even friendly with our Mexican neighbors.  It
was as if my family looked upon them as if they were
not even Mexicans.

	I even learned a little conversational Spanish
from the woman next door.  I developed a crush on
her.  Her name was Izel, a very stunning woman.  Her
hair was a very dark brown that had plenty of
natural curl and hung down to the small of her back.
Her eyes were very expressive, and as brown as cows
eyes.  Her figure was to die for.  Her body was
petite but a Playboy Bunny wannabe would pay a
fortune for such a body.  She made Wrangler jeans
look good.  She would turn male's heads and women
would stare at her with admiration or envy.  I saw
men hitting on her even though she had a baby in a
stroller.

	One time a guy would not take no for an answer
he continued pressing against her body and making
suggestive proposals.  I was surprised by how quickly
she took control.  She stuck her hand into her big
purse and rammed the purse against the crotch of
his jeans and told him, "KEEP IT UP AND MY
TWO FRIENDS 'Smith and Wesson' WILL
MAKE SURE YOU NEVER HAVE ANOTHER
HARD-ON!"  The guy practically stumbled
getting away.  I asked her if she was bluffing.
She pulled a nickel plated revolver out of her
purse.  The guy really made a fast exit when he
saw the gun.

	I was just turning twelve-years-old and Izel
was about ten years older than me.  Her husband
and my father worked hard and long hours to
support their families.  That meant that the women
folk and children were alone most of the time.  I
spent a lot of time at her house.  She was a
marvelous cook and taught me to enjoy Mexican
food.

	Her son was an infant.  I watched her breast
feed him many times.  Just the sight of her breasts
was enough to make my panties wet.  They were so
nice looking and the sight of her brown areolas and
fat nipples made me envy the baby.

	One of those hot summer mornings I had put
on my normal attire.  During the summer I lived in
cut off jeans and T-shirts.  The only time I put
shoes on was when I knew I was going to be walking
on hot pavement.  I was next door before the sun
peeked over the top of the Sierra Nevada
Mountains.  I was following Izel around the house.  I
loved babysitting the baby while she did her thing.

	Just before noon she stopped work to breast
feed the baby but he would not suckle.  She
eventually gave up and put him in his crib.  She
complained that she was going to have to milk her
tits.  She gathered up her breast pump and attached
bottles to them.  She sat down on the sofa and
pulled out both of her tits.  She picked up one of the
pumps and held the tit up and was about to attach it
to her tit when she looked at my face.  She got a
malicious expression on her face before she smiled
and asked, "Would you like to suck my tits for me?"

	I had no memory of ever being breast fed and
the idea of getting to taste her milk was enough to
make my pussy stinking wet.  "What should I do?"

	Izel told me to sit on the sofa and place my
head on her lap.  I sat down and turned my body so
that my feet were resting on the arm of the sofa
and my head was resting on her lap.  I turned
slightly to my right and wrapped my arms around her
waist.  She lifted up her right tit and positioned her
nipple against my lips.  I started sucking on the
nipple.  It was a strange feeling when the warm milk
started squirting into my mouth.  I had seen her milk
her tits into baby bottles enough to know that
mother's milk was thinner than cow's milk but I had
no idea what it would taste like.  There is no way I
can describe what it tasted like.  It may have been
waterier than cow's milk but I swear it was sweeter.
While I was sucking on one tit I started feeling the
other tit.  It was starting to leak and as the milk
dried on my fingers and got sticky.

	Izel used her right hand to pull my T-shirt out
of my cut-offs.  She placed her hand on my tummy
and started rubbing me.  At 12 I hardly had bumps
for tits.  They were starting to swell and were
sensitive to the touch.  Her fingers were driving me
crazy.  I was sucking on her so hard that she had to
caution me to be careful.  I loved the feeling of her
hand on my little tits.  When her right tit was dry I
moved my body over her body more to switch to the
left tit.  That was when Izel went for my pussy.

	The way I cut my old Levi jeans off, the
bottom of the front pockets showed below the
frayed legs.  The jeans were always the oldest pair
so they fit me so tight that the seam crept up the
crack of my ass.  They were always the old
traditional Levi's with the copper 5 button ones with
copper brads at the stress points.  That way they
shrank to fit.  When Izel pulled at the top button of
the jeans, all five buttons popped open.  Even with all
of the buttons open the jeans were still wedged
tightly against my little cunt.

	When I wore these jeans I always selected
tight little hip hugger panties that were light blue
because it took a lot of washing before the indigo
blue threads in Levi's to fade enough not to dye
panties blue.  It was a tight fit for Izel to get her
fingers under my panties and the tight fitting jeans.
I was just starting to grow light brown pubic hairs.
I could almost count every hair at the time.

	Her finger tips found my little clit and started
rubbing me while I sucked on her left tit.  I'm sure
she could feel just how wet I was down there.  It
even embarrassed me when she pulled her hand out
of my panties and smelled her fingers and sucked on
them.  By the time I emptied her tit I was in love
with her.  I would have done anything she asked.

	I regretted it when she covered up those
magnificent breasts.  Resting my head on her lap
allowed me to feel the heat of her crotch and I
could smell her pussy.  Just smelling her pussy was
enough to bring me to the edge of a climax.  It was
delicious torture.

	Izel lifted me up and turned me around to face
her so that she could kiss me on the mouth.  I was
left breathless and light headed.  She asked, "Would
you like to suck my pussy for me honey?"

	I was so empowered that I said, "I would suck
you ass if you asked!"

	She said, "Hummmmm that might come later,
baby!"

	With that she lifted her butt up and with both
hands she swiftly whipped her panties down.  When
she sat back down she lifted her legs up and pulled
the little black panties free of her feet.  The next
thing she did was lift her house dress up to expose
her beautiful naked lower half.

	A lot of fashionable women shave their pussies
leaving just a narrow landing strip above their
pussies, not Izel.  Her pussy was covered with a
thick mat of dark pubic hair.  I had always been
fascinated with the sight of her pussy whenever I
got a look at it while she was changing clothes.
Seeing those golden brown legs calling to me I had to
get on the floor between them.  When she spread
her legs I was able to see just how much of her labia
and clit was visible.  The ridge leading from her
crack to the hooded clit was amazing to look at.  I
placed my hands on the insides of her warm thighs
and put my face close enough to be able to inhale
the fragrance of her cunt.

	How can I describe the fragrance of a hot
pussy on a hot summer's day in the middle of farm
community?  I could feel the heat of the dry air and
smell the fragrance of alfalfa carried on the light
breeze at the same time smell the odor of her wet
pussy.  Izel uses cologne with a light rose smell but
the natural fragrance of her pussy has that musky
odor.  I had to touch her pussy with my fingers and
feel her slippery flesh.  When I put my mouth on her
cunt it was like her skin was covered with mucus.  My
nose was pressed against her clit while I probed the
depth of her cunt with my tongue.  I must have been
pleasing her because she was moaning while she ran
her fingers through my hair.  There was no doubt
about when she climaxed because she virtually
locked her legs around my head and bucked her body
up and down.  We were both sweating all over.  When
I stood up I could feel sweat trickling down the
middle of my back.  My bangs were stuck to my
forehead.

	Izel sat me on the coffee table in front of her
before she pulled my T-shirt over my head.  Then
she laid me back so that she could pull my cut-offs
off of my legs.  The pants were so tight that when
she pulled them down my legs the tight little panties
were pulled half way down my butt.  When she
finished pulling them free of my feet she was able
to ball them up in one fist.  She knelt at the end of
the table to inspect my pussy.  She was thrilled to
find that my hymen was intact.  She could see the
ragged little holes where my first few periods
discharged my blood.

	No one had ever sucked my pussy before.  She
taught me more about pleasing a woman in that one
demonstration than I ever suspected was possible.
When I was finished quivering from the oral lesson
she had just laid on me and I got up, the glass top of
the coffee table had a wet imprint of my body down
to the wrinkles where my legs joined my butt.

	At that point her son woke up and started
crying for food.  She retrieved a bottle of her own
milk from the fridge.  She warmed it up and held him
while she fed him.  I was busy slipping my panties
back on and pulling up my cut-offs.  I had to
struggle to button them.  Next I pulled the T-shirt
over my head, and stuffed the shirt tail into the
pants.  I ran my fingers through my hair and shook
my head to allow my hair to find its own place.
There was nothing to do but go home and think
about my new relationship with my neighbor.

	Every day after that, I made a beeline next
door for more fun and games.  It was only a day or
two before Izel sat on my face so that I could find
out what it was like to taste and stick my tongue
into her brown asshole.  After that day anytime I
ate her pussy, I also lick her asshole.  One morning
when I arrived at her house she had not bothered
getting out of her baby doll nightgown.  She took me
directly to bed and when I ate her pussy, it was full
of gooey liquid.  When I was finished eating her
pussy she told me that her husband had fucked her
that morning before going to work.  My reward for
cleaning out her pussy was more mothers' milk from
the source.  I was practically her sex slave for
several years.  I wonder if my mother ever
suspected what was going on.

	It broke my heart when Izel's husband got a
job in Bakersfield and they moved away.  My desire
for sex with women was well established by that
time.  I suffered through a dry spell after Izel
moved.  It was a couple of years before I was
walking home from town when another neighbor
woman stopped and offered me a ride home.

	Mrs. Garrison was a gray haired woman that
must have been close to fifty years old.  She was a
widow.  We had to pass her house on the way home.
She offered me a Coke if I stopped at her house for
a visit.  I accepted her offer without even thinking
she was flirting with me.

	Her home was air-conditioned and felt
comfortable.  My parent's home was not, so I was
perfectly happy to linger at Mrs. Garrison's.  She
insisted on sitting next to me while we drank our
iced drinks.  She complimented me on how nice my
breasts looked.  I even blushed when I thanked her.
She reached out and felt my right tit.

	That was my first clue that she was flirting
with me.  She asked me if I minded her having a look
at them.  I said, "Mrs. Garrison, I don't mind letting
you see them."

	She said, "Please call me Barbra, dear!"  As she
was saying that she was sticking her hand into my
tank-top and pulling out my tits.  I only wore bras
when I absolutely had to.  Barb felt them up and
kneaded them like they were balls of bread dough.

	I was proud of what my breasts looked like.
They were not the golden brown of Izel's but they
definitely were nicely shaped 36-C's, if I must say so
myself.  Barb sure liked them too, judging from the
way she was playing with them.  Any pretence of
innocence vanished when she leaned over and sucked
on my nipples.

	There was a pregnant moment when she
paused, waiting to see if I would panic.  Instead I
pulled her gray head back down to my wet nipple.
While she was sucking on the nipple I reached down
the front of her dress to feel her big soft tit.

	Like so many of the country women in the area
she was dressed in a simple blue and fuchsia print
taffeta dress that buttoned down the front.  She
also didn't wear a bra so that big F sized breasts
sagged almost to her waist.  They were only hidden
by the simple white full slip she probably wore for
days at a time before changing to a fresh one just
like it.  They were as soft as pillows and unbelievably
warm.

	After she was assured that I was a willing
participant she grew bolder.  I still preferred cut-
offs but because I was walking from town I had on
Nike cross trainers, but not for long.  That woman
undressed me with the skill of a quick change artist.
She was a little more reluctant to allow me to take
off her clothes.  She was very conscious of the
flaws that come with age.  The skin is not as supple
as it was at her senior prom, wrinkles were deeper,
liver spots were making unwanted appearances and
even her pubic hair was turning from brown to gray.
There was no way I was going to allow her to take all
of my clothes off without reparation.  She finally
relented and allowed me to take all of her clothes
off too.

	Barb may have been a full figured woman but
everything was in the right place.  I found out that
day how appreciative an older woman can be for the
affections of a teenager.  Everything I did to her
she did to me.  Sucking on her breasts was a pure
pleasure.  Placing my face into one of her breasts
was like burying my face in a soft warm rose
perfumed pillow.  When I get between her legs there
was not a lot of pubic hair to deal with.  I would
have never guessed that as I grew older and my hair
would thin, that the pubic hair and hair on my legs
would thin too.

	Barb was a sweetheart when it was her turn to
suck tits and pussy.  She made my nipples so hard
they were painful to the touch.  When it came to
sucking pussy, if she had sucked any harder she
would have sucked my womb right through my cervix.

	I made it a practice of dropping by to visit her
after that.  It was fun visiting her.  There was
nothing we didn't do.  We even experimented with a
little bondage.  Until you have been restrained so
that you cannot prevent someone from stimulating
your body, you just can't understand how intense the
climax can be.  Both of us have passed out after
climaxing.  She has even talked to me about
introducing me to her canasta card club.

	Apparently she has three friends about her age
that have been friends from the time they were
girls.  She even showed me photograph albums of the
four of them dating back to the days they were
teenagers.  It was like looking at the real American
Graffiti.  I recognized the muscle cars in the
background and marveled at girls not unlike myself
frolicking on mountain lakes.  There were even
pictures of them holding posters of James Dean at
the purported location on Highway 33, where he was
killed in his Porsche Spider, near the junction of
Highway 58 back when there was nothing but a
rundown three pump gas station and a little general
store.  Anyone seeing the pictures would recognize
four friends just like themselves.  The four of them
apparently liked frolicking around naked in front of
the camera.

	Now at their age when I visited, they relished
sucking my pussy and having me take my time sucking
all of their pussies.  I was in heaven when the four
of them would make love t me.  It would make a
gothic picture.  One of the sweat old dears would
fuck my pussy with a dildo while another sweaty
would sit on my face.  The other two would wait
their turn by sucking on my tits.  Just the same I
had a taste for brown pussy.

	I sought out another Mexican woman that I
knew.  The dressed like a whore.  High heels
platform shoes laced up to the calves.  Her skirts
were so short that if she bent over thong of her
panties creeping up the crack of her ass would be
visible.  Her transparent blouses allowed anyone to
see the black laced bra.  Her long hair was tented a
little reddish.  She dressed that way to tease men.

	When I flirted with her, she was flattered and
pressed her body against mine while she grabbed the
front of my jeans.  She got off fucking a white
teenager with a strip-on dildo.  I loved the smell of
her pussy and even tongue fucked her asshole for
her.  Her breasts were even bigger than Izel but
there was no milk.  She even used her nipples to rub
my clit until I would climax.  I knew that when I
finished school I had to seek employment in San
Francisco.  I knew that I would be able to find
plenty of women to satisfy my desire for dark
skinned women to have sex with.




I hope you enjoyed the story, and if you have a
story you would like told, please send your mail to
janmay696@yahoo.com