Bare Behind Bars / Isabella Gets Nailed / Stuck in the Window: 3 Stories of Interracial Infidelity in Dangerous Situations

by Felicity Fleming

  Miguel howled with laughter; and this did not please Isabella.

  “What the fuck are you laughing about?” She screamed. “When I get out of here, I’m calling the cops! Immigration! I’m suing your ass!” She struggled to get free, to no avail. “I’m going to make sure they send you back to Mexico on that fucking door you floated in on!”

  Slap! Miguel’s palm impacted with Isabella’s ass a second time. Harder.

  “I told you, you fucking bitch,” he snapped. “I’m from El Salvador.”

  “Like I give a fuck!” Isabella kicked her legs out, trying to strike him with the heel of her stilettos. “El Salvador? Mexico? Who gives a crap?” She kicked her legs again. “You’re just a fucking greaseball, and if you think you’re getting a fucking penny out of me, you’ve got another think coming.”

  When he heard that, Miguel started laughing again.

  “Aww, Chica,” his big hand rubbed her ass menacingly. “You are a rich, sexy woman – but you sure ain’t smart.” And then his hand slid down, until it touched the bare skin of her thighs. “I’m gonna get my money’s worth one way or another.”

  He asked her one last time: “Do we have a deal, or not?”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  And then Miguel started laughing again.

  But this time, it was a deep and menacing laugh. The laugh of a guy who was going to do something truly despicable.

  “Hey, boys!”

  His voice echoed through the garden. Isabella could hear it clearly, even through the wood of the door she was stuck inside.

  “Hey, boys! Ven aca!” Miguel was repeating. And then Isabella heard some muffled cat calls and voices as Miguel’s work crew came around to the back of the house.

  Her cheeks burned.

  Those dirty Mexican scumbags would be discovering her ass, sticking out of the doggy door – like a moose head mounted on the wall. It was humiliating.

  “Hey, boys,” Miguel called out to what she only assumed was a semi-circled group of itinerant workers. “Remember what Ms. Scalia here told us earlier?”

  Isabella whimpered as she heard some grunting and comments she couldn’t quite understand through the door.

  This was killing her. How many people were out there? And were they all staring at her ass? Sticking out of the doggy door.

  Miguel continued:

  “Earlier today, this stuck up bitch told us if we wanted our money, we’d have to take it out of her ass.” And the Miguel slapped Isabella’s backside again with the palm of his hand. Smack!

  “Aiiiie!” Isabella screamed.

  Miguel rubbed her stinging cheeks lovingly.

  “Well, conveniently for us,” the foreman purred, in a menacingly deep voice, “her ass is right here waiting for us.”

  On the other side of the door, Isabella’s eyes widened.

  Had she just heard what she thought she’d heard?

  There was a loud cheer from the assembled crowd – the crowd Isabella couldn’t even see.

  Oh, shit, she thought. What was happening?

  And then she felt it.

  Miguel’s hand had slid down her backside, and along her thigh, until his fingers reached the hem of her skirt. And then he started to lift it up.

  Isabella felt the cool air on her bare thighs as he exposed inch after inch of leg.

  “No!” She screamed. “Stop! Stop that!”

  But he didn’t.

  Miguel kept pulling her skirt higher until Isabella felt the cool air on her backside; and realized he’d pulled it up over her hips and bared her thong panties to everybody.

  There was a loud cheer from behind her, muffled through the door.

  Her cheeks burned. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  Ten dirty construction workers were staring at her, stuck there in her panties!

  “Wooo!” Miguel whooped, and slapped her ass. “Check it out! I never would have figured Ms. Scalia for a thong kinda girl!” And then there was another slap! Miguel’s spanks impacted against the bare skin of her exposed ass.

  Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

  “No!” She sobbed. “No, please! No!”

  But Miguel wasn’t listening.

  He was rubbing his hands on the round cheeks of her ass. And then, sliding his hand up, he hooked his fingers into the lacy waistband of her thong.

  “No!” Isabella sobbed. “No!”

  Miguel started pulling it down.

  “Check it out, boys!” He roared to the assembled crowd. “This stuck up bitch got caught with her panties down!”

  And the assembled group whooped and cat-called and hollered.

  Isabella’s cheeks were burning with shame – so hot, she thought the fat tears rolling down them would sizzle into steam.

  God, it was so humiliating. All those dirty fucking bastards, staring at her bare ass.

  But it was going to get a lot worse than that, she feared.

  “Whoooo!” Miguel’s calloused fingers slipped between her thighs, and started rubbing the outside of her pussy. “Looks like Ms. Scalia needs to trim the hedges!”

  She squeezed shut her eyes. Since her husband had left, she’d stopped bothering to trim her pubes.

  His fingers parted the lips of her cunt, and started rubbing up and down her clit.

  Oh, God, Isabella moaned. It had been months since she’d been touched by a man, and despite the humiliation of the situation – and the fact that it was this arrogant bastard violating her – she couldn’t stop her body responding to his touch.

  And it didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Ooooh, boys,” Miguel called out. “This bitch is wet.” And to Isabella’s shame, she realized her pussy was responding to the stimulation; growing moist as Miguel roughly stroked her clitoris. “I think she likes this.”

  She wished that nothing could be further from the truth – but while Isabella was terrified and ashamed, she was also getting breathless at the touch of a man on her body. It had been so long.

  She hung her head in shame, and moaned – as she tried to stop her body responding to Miguel’s rough fingers.

  “You do you like this,” Miguel’s voice was directed at her this time; soft and menacing. “You like me touching you, don’t you, Chica?”

  “Y-you’re a pig,” Isabella shouted through the door. “You’re a fucking filthy pig.”

  Miguel laughed, and started caressing her ass with one hand, while he rubbed her clit and her pussy with the other.

  “You’re such a pretty bitch, lady,” he purred, as he stroked her most intimate of places. “But why you gotta act like a bitch all the time?” It seemed like a genuine question; and Isabella’s cheeks burned as she realized she didn’t know the answer.

  “Maybe if you’d be nicer to people,” Miguel continued, “they’d be nicer to you.”

  Experimentally, he pressed the tip of his thumb against the entrance to Isabella’s pussy; and she moaned as she felt her cunt threaten to open up at the pressure.

  “You know what I figure, Chica?” Miguel growled hungrily, as he teased her clit. “I reckon girls like you – the real hard-nosed bitches? I reckon all you bitches need is one good fucking.” Again, he pressed his thumb against Isabella’s pussy, and it practically blossomed.

  When Miguel pressed the tip of a second finger against the lips of her pussy, Isabella moaned in shame.

  “Tell you what, Chica,” he purred. “Me and the boys here? We’re going to take what you owe me exactly like you said – out of your ass.”

  Isabella sobbed.

  “But first? First I’m going to make you beg for it.”

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, Isabella yelled through the door: “That’ll never happen, you pig.”

  “Want to bet?” Miguel growled.

  She groaned. The foreman began to rub her clit faster in response, until Isabella could no longer control herself. She squirmed her hips in pleasurable discomfort.

  Miguel chuckled as he felt her pressing her hips
back against his hand. He kept his fingers rigid, and when Isabella pushed back against his hand, she suddenly impaled herself on his fingers.

  “Uuuuuungh!” On the other side of the door, Isabella grunted as she felt herself filled and stretched by Miguel’s thick, calloused fingers.

  “Aww, Chica,” Miguel chuckled. “You’re fucking wet now.” With two fingers buried inside of her, he continued rubbing her clit. “I told you I’m going to make you beg for it,” he purred.

  “D-do your worst, you bastard,” she growled in response.

  And so he did.

  His calloused fingers worked like magic; coaxing her clitoris into a throbbing, red nub and opening her pussy like it was a flower blossoming in the summer sunshine.

  “Nnnnnngh,” Isabella tried to resist the inexorable pleasure between her legs. She squirmed, making the doggy door rattle. She lifted one hand so she could sink her teeth into her fist.

  “Awwww,” Miguel purred, as he fucked her with his fingers. “Is this stuck up little blanquito having trouble staying so stern and focused?”

  “F-fuck you,” Isabella hissed.

  “Was that an invitation?”

  “N-no,” She spat. “Hell no. You know what I…. oh my God!”

  The cry came as Miguel jabbed his fingers even deeper into Isabella’s tight pussy, and then curled them to coax her g-spot. As his thumb pressed against her clitoris, Isabella realized the arrogant foreman was forcing her down the inexorable path to orgasm.

  Or so she thought.

  As Isabella felt the pressure begin to build between her legs, Miguel suddenly stopped.

  For a second, there was delicious relief from the humiliation.

  And then… a growing frustration. Need.

  She started squirming her hips, pressing her ass back against Miguel’s hand.

  He grinned. “Oh, I see, Chica. Not playing so hard to get now are you?”

  “Nnnnngh,” Isabella ground her hips back against his hand. She’d been on the brink of orgasm. How could he stop now, of all times? She hadn’t even wanted to touch him, but now how dare he stop!

  “K-keep going,” she stammered.

  “What’s that?” Miguel purred, and stroked Isabella’s clitoris. It almost made her head explode. She groaned wetly.

  Miguel began fingering her again – bringing her closer and closer to the brink of orgasm. But once again, just before she surrendered to the explosion of pleasure, he stopped.

  “W-why do you keep stopping?” Isabella wailed.

  “’Cos I want to hear it, Chica,” Miguel purred back. “I want to hear you beg.”

  And with that, he began expertly fingering her again – until she was once again about to explode in pleasure.

  And then he stopped – cruelly denying her at the last minute.

  “I want to hear you beg, bitch.”

  Miguel waited just long enough for the edge to wear off, and then start coaxing her towards an unfulfilled climax once again.

  It was too much.

  “D-don’t stop,” Isabella moaned, as she ground her hips back against Miguel’s hand. “For fuck’s sake, don’t stop.”

  So Miguel abruptly stopped.

  “I said d-don’t stop,” Isabella wailed. “Don’t stop.”

  Miguel laughed.

  “I knew it,” he growled. “I knew you were just a stuck up slut. All you need is good fucking.” He began fingering her again – just enough to balance her on the knife-edge of orgasm, and then leave her hanging. “You want me to fuck you, bitch?”

  “Uuuungh,” Isabella was humping her hips back onto his hand; grinding herself on his fingers. “Please, you fucking sadist. Please.”

  Miguel purred: “Please what?”

  “Please…” Isabella begged.

  “You want me to make you cum?” He asked.

  “Please…”

  “I can make you cum, blanquito,” Miguel promised. “I stick my big, fat dick in you, you’re going to cum like you’ve never cum before.”

  “Uuuuungh,” Isabella groaned.

  “But if you want me to make you cum, bitch,” Miguel insisted, fucking her with his fingers just enough to keep the pressure on. “You’re gonna have to beg.”

  “W-what do you mean?” She rolled her head back and forth in frustration.

  “Beg me to fuck you,” Miguel purred, and then he rubbed her clit, until she was right on the brink of orgasm again. “Beg me to fuck you, and then beg me to let the rest of my hermana fuck you like a common puta.”

  Just a second before she exploded, he stopped rubbing her clit, and repeated: “Beg me, bitch.”

  “O-okay,” Isabella groaned. “Oh, God. Whatever. Please. Just let me cum.”

  He left her hanging. “That’s not good enough.”

  “Nnnnnnngh,” Isabella moaned.

  “I want you to beg, bitch,” he insisted, fingers sliding in and out of her – keeping her on the brink of climax. “Go on – beg me.”

  “Oh, God,” Isabella moaned, surrendering. “Please. I beg you. Make me cum. I beg you.” She couldn’t believe she was saying it – but she needed to cum so badly.

  “Beg me to what, bitch?”

  “Fuck me,” Isabella rolled her eyes. “Oh, God – please. Please fuck me.”

  And as those degrading words left her mouth, she heard sounds she both dreaded, and absolutely craved.

  The jingle of a belt buckle. The zip of flies. The rustle of pants being pulled down.

  “Oh, God,” Isabella moaned. “Oh, please.”

  Miguel’s voice was soft and menacing.

  “Oh, I like to hear you beg,” he hissed. “You told us we’d have to take the money out of your ass? Well, you just begged for each of my crew to take what they’re owed.”

  And with that, she felt his hands on her naked hips, and the heat of his hairy thighs press against hers.

  “Uuuugh!” Isabella moaned.

  She felt a hard, smooth object pressed against her thighs – sinking between them until it was nudging between the lips of her glistening pussy. Miguel’s cock.

  It felt impossibly huge and hard; but her pussy opened obediently as he thrust his hips forward. Inch by inch, she was stretched and filled by this stranger’s thick shaft.

  “Oooooooh,” Isabella wailed. She bit her bottom lip.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. When she’d got up this morning, she’d considered herself a tough and independent businesswoman. Now she was on her knees, with some dirty Mexican – okay, an El Salvadorian – fucking her like she was a bitch in heat.

  “Ooooh, chica,” Miguel groaned, as he bottomed out inside Isabella’s pussy, and his pubic hair tickled the smooth skin of her ass. “You are tight.” He slapped her ass, hard. “How long has it been, bitch?”

  Isabella gasped. She felt impossibly full.

  “A deal’s a deal,” Miguel began to thrust; his calloused hands gripping the soft skin of her hips. “You begged me to make you cum.” And then he began fucking her in earnest.

  “Oh, God,” Isabella groaned, as she was jostled backwards and forwards, making the doggy door rattle. The big, hard cock buried in her pussy pistoned in and out. On its deepest thrust – when Miguel sunk balls-deep inside of her – she could feel the swollen head of his shaft press against her g-spot.

  Fat tears of shame rolled down her cheek. What was happening to her?

  “Awww, baby,” Miguel’s rough hands yanked at her skirt, which was hiked up over Isabella’s waist. “Let’s get you out of this.” And then there was a riiiip! as Miguel tore her Donna Karen skirt clean off.

  Isabella wailed – both at the humiliation, and the expense.

  Now she was naked from the waist down, except for her panties, which were snagged around her knees. She’d never felt so exposed, or violated in her entire life; and yet the remorseless in-out, in-out of Miguel’s big cock was making her pussy quiver and pulsate.

  “Oh, yeah, baby,” Miguel groaned, and Isab
ella felt his cock swell and throb inside of her. “That’s it. You’re getting close, aren’t you, bitch?”

  “Uunnngh,” Isabella bit her bottom lip, and let her head hand limply. He was right.

  Each thrust was making his big, fat cock press against her g-spot; and each time it did it drove her closer to orgasm.

  “Oh, fuck,” she groaned. “No, no, no….”

  But she couldn’t help herself.

  Like a wave of pleasure crashing over her, she climaxed.

  “Ooooh, yeah,” Miguel continued fucking her, driving her orgasm longer and harder. “That’s it, blanquito. Cum for me, you little slut.”

  And then he sunk his cock as deep into Isabella’s spasming pussy as he could, and let out a deep, guttural moan.

  Isabella was still riding the coattails of her climax when she felt it – the swelling throb of Miguel’s cock as it spurted cum deep inside of her.

  She wailed.

  He wasn’t wearing a condom. Since her husband had left, she’d stopped taking birth control. Jesus, the dirty greaseball was probably knocking her up, right then and there!

  But each powerful spurt of semen seemed to impact her right on her g-spot; and that – combined with her body’s involuntary responses – tipped her over the edge into another gut-wrenching climax.

  “Oh, fuck, yes,” Isabella groaned, and her cheeks burned with shame.

  “Wow,” with a cheer, Miguel pulled his softening cock from Isabella’s pussy. It was followed by a deluge of hot, wet cum that rolled down her thighs. “See this bitch cum?” The stairs creaked as he stood up and turned to his assembled buddies. “Did you see the bitch cum, boys?”

  There was a roar of approval from all the assembled men that Isabella couldn’t see.

  “Come on up here, Juan,” Miguel called, and the stairs creaked again. “It’s your turn, hermano!”

  Isabella’s eyes widened.

  No. No, he couldn’t be serious. Could he?

  But the answer to that question was the sound of another belt buckle being undone, and then more rough, calloused hands on her bare ass.

  Rough fingers parted her thighs and pressed against her cum-filled pussy. Then she felt the hard, hot pressure of another cock against her cunt.

  “Nooooo,” Isabella wailed, as a faceless stranger sunk his dick inside her.