I paid a Colombian whore for the most expensive but most incredible fuck of my life

It was a steamy night in Cartagena, Colombia, and I had just finished my first margarita when I noticed her. She was a vision, her skin the color of rich cocoa, her curves in all the right places, accentuated perfectly by the tight red dress that clung to her body like a second skin. She caught my eye and sauntered over, hips swaying seductively.

“Hola, papi,” she purred, running a perfectly manicured nail along my jawline. “Looking for some company tonight?”

I can’t lie, the way her full, supple lips wrapped around those words made my heart race. I had heard about Colombian girls, their fiery passion and wild abandon, but this was my first taste. I scooped up my drink and followed her out onto the bustling street, the warm Caribbean air enveloping us.

We ended up back at her place, a small but neat apartment in the heart of the old city. She led me straight to the bedroom, her heels clicking excitedly on the tile floor. The room was dimly lit, the drapes drawn, the bed begging to be rumpled.

She turned to me, reaching behind her to slowly unzip her dress. It fell to the floor in a swish of silk, revealing a black lace bra and thong. Her body was even more breathtaking up close, her breasts full and round, her stomach flat and toned, her hips flaring out like the perfect hourglass.

She pushed me down onto the bed and climbed on top of me, her lips finding mine in a searing kiss. Her tongue was hot and eager in my mouth, plundering and exploring every inch. Her hands roamed my body, unbuttoning my shirt with deft fingers.

I couldn’t help but moan as she took out my cock, hard and ready. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly, teasingly, looking up at me with those bedroom eyes. “Fuck, papi, you’re so big,” she gasped, her voice husky with desire.

I reached up and unclasped her bra, freeing her gorgeous breasts. They bounced enticingly, the nipples already stiff and hard. I took one in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive bud, while my hand kneaded and squeezed her other breast. She arched her back, pressing herself into me, a low moan escaping her lips.

Then, without warning, she repositioned herself and took my cock deep into her hot, wet mouth. Her head bobbed up and down, her tongue swirling around the tip, her hands stroking my shaft. “Fuck, yes,” I groaned, tangling my fingers in her hair.

But I wasn’t ready for her to have all the fun. I pulled her off me and flipped her over onto her back. I stripped off my pants and boxers, finally freeing my throbbing cock. I could see the hunger in her eyes as she licked her lips.

I pushed her thighs apart and positioned myself between them. Her thong was soaked through, a testament to her arousal. I rubbed my cock against her, coating it in her juices, teasing her entrance. She bucked her hips, desperate for more.

But I was in charge. I grabbed her hips, holding her firmly in place, and slowly, inch by delicious inch, I entered her. She was tight, so fucking tight, but she took me in like she was made for me. She cried out, a mix of surprise and pleasure, as I filled her up.

I began to thrust, slowly at first, getting a feel for her body, letting her adjust to my size. But she was ready for more. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, urging me on. I obliged, picking up the pace, my hips slamming into hers with each thrust.

The room filled with the sounds of our moans and the slap of sweat-slicked skin. Her nails raked down my back, hard enough to leave marks, to hurt, but it only spurred me on. “Fuck, papi, harder,” she demanded. And like a good boy, I obliged, hammering into her with abandon.

I could feel her tightening around me, her body tensing as her orgasm approached. I reached down between us, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing firm circles. That was all it took. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she came, her body shaking, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vice.

The sight of her coming undone, the feel of her milking my cock, sent me over the edge. With one final, powerful thrust, I buried myself inside her and came, filling her up with my seed. I swear I saw stars as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

We collapsed together, panting, sweat-soaked, basking in the afterglow. She snuggled into my chest, her body soft and pliant. We stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the moment, the intimacy of the experience.

Finally, she propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at me. “That was amazing,” she said, her voice still shaky from her orgasm. “The best fuck of my life.”

I grinned. “I aim to please, mamacita.” And she smiled back, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Who said we can’t do it again? And again? And again?” And that was how my incredible night with a Colombian whore became the most expensive but most incredible fuck of my life. Worth every penny.