What's a Little Breeding?

"Then, seriously, call me 'Mario,' because I won't have my fiancee calling me 'Mr. Mancini,' seriously. You've sold me. Just know that there will be an engagement period and if you can't back up your talk with action, we regress to friends with benefits. Are we clear? I'm going to introduce you to my mother, too. Dad's deceased. Mom's a widow and has been for many years. But I think that she'd be tickled pink to meet you.

"This is a hell of a short courtship, or whatever, but you've impressed me a lot in just a short time, and as long as you can walk the walk as well as talk the talk, I see us getting hitched once your immigration status is a bit more secure. I imagine that our first baby will do that for us, the anchor baby, if you will. Just understand this. Despite all of my scary words and rants, as long as you're the kind of wife that I can respect and who respects me back, doesn't see herself as my superior or some other such nonsense, I will spoil you rotten, and you can take that to the bank. More wine?" I offered Carly, who beamed and nodded.

"I guess I kinda sold myself to you, much like some ancient Greeks sold themselves to Romans, but it's worth it. It's my body, anyway. All those feminists who speak of self-empowerment and women's liberation and emancipation, etc., of making our own choices and doing with our bodies as we please...I get that, sure, but that means that I have the right to do with my body as I wish, too, and what I choose to do with it is offer it to you. Funny how they only respect my rights if I exercise them as they wish, huh?

"Not knocking all feminists, granted, just the idiots who want to dictate my life to me, as you said. I won't be a pushover to the point of letting you abuse me, of course, but you'd never do that, anyway. In every other way, though, I'm happy to be the submissive wife, emphasis on submissive. As long as you understand that submission doesn't mean inferiority, of course. The submissive has the real, final say, anyway, doesn't she, or he, if he's male," Carly told me while drinking her wine appreciatively.

"Very true. I will never rape or abuse you. I will accept your submission with pride and joy, treasuring it as a sign of your respect and affection for me. At no time will I treat you as some kind of mindless object with no thoughts or feelings of your own. That being said, you ready to start working on that anchor baby?" I winked at Carly, who practically leaped on me and nearly knocked over my beer.

"I thought that you'd never ask!" Carly replied, almost tearing off my clothes so that she could get to her prize: my cock, "sorry, babe, but I just kept looking at that bulge, and damn it, it's all I could do to push that out of my mind to have a serious discussion with you! I kept staring at it and trying not to be too obvious with my big cock lust. Sorry, guess I should have warned you that I can be a size queen at times. Not a complete one. But it is a definite draw for me, partly because I'm so petite and the idea of big cock plowing me and stretching me...Painful and pleasurable at once. I kinda like it rough and painful at times. I like it when a man's cock hurts and stretches me!"

It wasn't much longer before my dick was planted deep inside her already soaked pussy, my hips pushing me in and out of her wonderful twat. I could certainly get used to fucking this sweetheart, this Mexican cutie, who was tougher than she let on, but could also be very vulnerable, very soft, very adorable, and even girlish at times. Her being a pain slut didn't hurt, either, as she welcomed my swats on her buns while I drove to her depths from behind. She pushed back at me with enough enthusiasm that I knew that she wasn't hurting too bad, just the right amount to arouse her. She wasn't a freak, just a masochist, and I could appreciate that as I buried my cock inside her slippery cunt.

"This was your fantasy, wasn't it? It wasn't just about your immigration, was it? You wanted me," I stated it baldly, not asking, but affirming it.

"Yes, I've...been attracted to you and this is both survival and a dream come true. I've always had a weakness for Italian guys, anyway," Carly whimpered as she took me deeper inside her dripping wet snatch.

"You have a crush on me!" I confronted her as I pumped in and out of her twat, enjoying its warm, wet depths.

"Yes, papi, I do! I can't help it! You're so...dark and intense, such a brooding kind of guy, so willful and assertive, too," Carly confessed that she was attracted to my proud, stubborn, and ruthless side was well as my more playful, gregarious traits.

"Well, just wait until Bobbie and Eric get to know you! They're gonna love you to death, I believe!" I told Carly as I kept thrusting in and out of her delightful pussy.

"I sure hope so, since I also hope that they attend our wedding!" Carly panted as I pumped her and spilled inside her at last, "she can be matron of honor or something like that and he can be best man, right?"

"You probably have a few bridesmaids picked out, too. By the way, I want to help your parents with their situation as best I can, though I don't know how other than a bit of money and a good lawyer to get them legal status somehow. Stereotypical marriage jokes aside, I don't want my in-laws deported. It will be interesting to pick out who I think would make decent groomsmen for me.

"If you have any male relations to consider for that, go ahead. Dad died when I was rather young and Mom never remarried, which I still think was crazy, given that she had plenty of good years, so I was an only child, never had siblings. I have some cousins, though, male and female, and perhaps they can find a niche in our wedding if they don't fuck up, that is.

"There might be a guy or two from Dad's ladder company, though. He...was a firefighter. Professional. That's how he died. In a fire. He inhaled flame," I fought back some tears at that memory, though I had thirty-five years to get used to it...I wasn't the five-year old boy who stared down at his father's corpse in the casket at the very Catholic, very Italian funeral.

"What was his name, papi?" Carly asked me as I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bed in my master bedroom.

"Salvatore Mancini. His brother, my Uncle Silvio, has still been alive all this time, but he's a retired state trooper. He did pretty well for himself there, as law enforcement careers go, of course. He's a happily married man with my Aunt Nancy, but he's been rumored to stray now and then. It hasn't gotten him divorced, of course, and if Aunt Nancy knows or cares, she hasn't done anything about it.

"My father had a similar reputation, so who knows if it was ethnic stereotypes instead at fault? You know, that Italian guys are womanizers, not that I'm judging if they were. If it didn't bother Mom or Aunt Nancy, and maybe it did, maybe it didn't, why should I mind?" I explained while making out with Carly and enjoying her arms around me.

"I kinda hope that stereotype is true, and it seems to be of you, anyway. I certainly don't mind, either. You know the same reputation is associated with Latino men, sometimes right, sometimes wrong. I suspect that Papa was unfaithful at least in the past, not so clear about now, given his aging. Mama, well, if she was an adulteress, she hid it extremely well, meaning that she was extra discreet. I doubt that she did it much. Maybe once or twice, as payback for Papa's indiscretions.

"Anyway, all this talk of fucking around makes me horny...Want to fuck again?" Carly gave me a truly touching pout as she teased me with her lovely buns.

"God, yes, woman!" I slapped her sweet brown ass and started kissing my way down her back to tantalize her further.

"Oh...fuck me, papi!" Carly both cussed and begged for more dick, as I plundered her once more, after flipping her over so that I could see her pretty face.

"Damn, girl!" I groaned as I had Carly's legs on my shoulders and pushed deeper inside her cunt.

"Woah, you're really hot stuff, aren't you? My stud!" Carly praised me, making me blush now.

"You like, huh?" I grunted as I pushed my cock back inside her and leaned over to kiss her sweet, soft lips.

"Si, papi!" Carly was so sincere now that she answered entirely in Spanish.

"That's my girl," I caressed her face and her breasts as I thrust in and out of my sweet Latina's delicious pussy.

"Yes, I'm YOUR girl! Yours!" Carly swore to me as we fucked, our bodies tangling splendidly on the sweaty bedsheets.

"Always mine," I reiterated with a smile as I took her yet again.

"Forever yours, papi! Forever yours! I don't care how many women you fuck, how many men I fuck, how many crazy things happen to us, I'm yours! I'll be the best wife ever!" Carly promised me.

"Just wait until we go on our honeymoon, dear, even if that will have to wait until your immigration issues are resolved. You'll learn more of what I have in mind for you. You'll see," I encouraged Carly as we fucked and embraced.

"AAHHHHH!" Carly screamed as she came at last, apparently from thinking ahead to that prospective honeymoon.

I soon thought of it, too, but what cinched it was when Carly asked, "So, do you want to invite Eric and Bobbie to join us for the honeymoon cruise?"

My answer was to cum rather messily, with what felt like buckets of my jizz filling her twat.

"Good, I'll take that as a yes," Carly laughed as she pulled me on top of herself and gave me the steamiest kiss that I had ever imagined in my life.

"Just for that, we're going to fuck until you have to wobble to the kitchen to make breakfast tomorrow morning," I taunted her.

"Promise?" Carly winked devilishly and licked her lips in response, "also, please know that from now on, the kitchen's my turf. I'll let you cook now and then, and you're the boss everywhere else, but I rule the kitchen. After all, I can't work without a green card, so what's left for me to be but a housewife?"

"So, does that mean no sex in the kitchen, then?" I teased her a little with a very eager kiss.

"No, it means that I'll get to demand sex there, the only place where I can make demands. Deal? I'm going to love being a domestic goddess," Carly stuck out her tongue at me.

"Somehow, I think that I can live with that, milady," I told her with a very sloppy French kiss.

"Good, because I'm looking forward to that almost as much as I look forward to serving you for the rest of my days," Carly grinned as she kissed me again.

"Lucky me," I coughed.

"No, lucky me...very, very lucky," Carly told me, "you're my idol and I will worship you with every last breath. You saved my life."

"Like I said, lucky me," I got the last word this time at least, as a very flattered and embarrassed Carly covered her face to hide her mile-wide grin and the dimples in her cheeks.

Damn, I thought, just wait until I tell Eric and Bobbie about this!