Tit for Tat

I looked out the small window of the kitchen area at them. They were mostly Mexican, mostly unshaven, sweaty and more than anything else...burly and rough looking. Dangerous even. Were they even working under their real names?

I looked over at Barocca. She was looking at me, hands on her hips. She had a glint to her eyes, one eyebrow slightly raised, and pointing one hip in my direction.

The yells from outside were gutteral, animalistic. Maybe my mind was causing them to seem that way, but I swear they were barbaric cravings of lust. Fierce, vicious promises of terrible violence. I could not understand the language, but the hunger in the words, seemed a dark oath to rip her legs off her body, and rip away her arms, and pull and tear her tits off.

My wife didn't speak Spanish either, but she smiled broadly at the horde of monsters outside the glass. She turned her shoulders slightly, so that I could see the front of her body. Her ab muscles were trembling. And when I looked down at her clean shaved pussy, I saw her juices flowing out from between her lips. Barocca's girl lubricant ran in rivulets down the insides of both her legs.

You might ask the precise moment my cock sprung forth like a jack in the box. Of course it couldn't straighten out, not in that small tight confine of the cage. All it could do was throw itself onto the barbs surrounding it. So fiercely my dick jerked that the needles stabbed to its very core.

What sight was it, that last vision as I was falling to the floor, darkness closing over my eyes like an inky curtain dropping as I passed out from pain?

My chocolate hot wife stepping to the door, and sliding it open.