Page 32 of Punished

“Your dick is so big; I want you to rip me apart. I want to come all over your dick.” Damn, this girl has a filthy mouth. I love that she is owning her sexual desires,reigning over them like the divine goddess she is. Nothing is as beautiful as the view in front of me. Sweat trickling down her neck. Her breasts bouncing with her movement. It makes me ravenous. It makes me want to be her God and her my equal. The only thing I bow to, the only thing I give into.

She’s on the edge, and I slam my dick into her, filling her with my cum. She screams out my name, and I can feel the hot liquid as she squirts all over my dick. I can’t help but laugh at the horror on her face.

“I… ugh… I’m so sorry. I think I peed on you,” she says as she gets up to try to run to the bathroom. I hold her hips down on me.

“That’s called squirting, and don’t worry, I loved every second of it.”

She collapses onto me, her forehead to mine. I pull her face to me and kiss her, feeling her knuckles brush the stubble of hair on the back of my head. Then the words that will damn us both fall from her lips.

“I love you.”

I’m with Alma at Mr. Friborg’s, her favorite Mexican Botanica. There’s a large wall with natural medicines and herbal teas. My tia Vicky used to buy the Chupa Panza Tea, a pineapple, ginger, and flaxseed tea, that she swore was the natural equivalent of a BBL. My tia got real witchy when it came to her belief in herbal teas. But who am I to judge, since apparently, I am a squirter now. I spent thirty minutes googling the whole prospect of squirting, and I’m shocked that, as a nurse, I was unaware of this.

I scan over the different natural medicines. If only there was a tea here for bitches who say I love you too soon. If only I could go back and not have said that. My brain was in a trance from the orgasm and my emotions were high. Adrian had been kind enough to not make me feel any stupider than I already did after the words flew out.He had kissed my forehead and carried me to the shower, where we cleaned up.

The sound of the door chime pulls me from my thoughts. Three young girls walk in and head straight to the candle section. Normally, I avoid coming here with Alma, because it creeps me out. Alma and Thalia love to have their cards read and dissect everything they were told together. When anything significant happens, they say, “This is exactly what Mr. Friborg said would happen.” I don’t want to know my future. My anxiety wouldn’t allow for it. I have enough anxiety not knowing what the future holds, and my heart would shatter if I were told Adrian wouldn’t be in it with me.

Alma, however, is in the back room getting her quarterly tarot reading while I scan the candle section.

Ven A Mi– to find love

Ven Dinero– to make money

I keep scanning until I see the candle I’m looking for. Santa Muerte.Holy Death. The female reaper matches the tattoo on Adrian’s back. I want to take it to his house later. I noticed he had set up a small altar with her statue, flowers, and other offerings in the spare room.

“Does she call to you?” I jump at the voice, and turn to see Mr. Friborg behind me. The man is blindingly handsome. It’s always hard to make eye contact with him.

“I… ugh… no, it’s for my boy… it’s for a friend.”

“Hmmm. Well, might I suggest a bracelet then, for your friend?” He walks to grab a red stringed bracelet, and Alma looks at me and shrugs.

When he returns, he grabs my hand and slides the bracelet onto my wrist. Right above the gold bracelet Adrian had given me. He smiles at me, and I look down to examine it. It’s a simple red string with a silver figure of the saint tied into the middle.

“For your friend, of course.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, and an odd chill slithers down my spine.

Alma and I leave after we pay for the items we grabbed. We catch up at our favorite taco truck, as we both avoid any conversation about Thalia. She tells me all about her card reading and how her true love is just around the corner. We walk around and visit the different shops. She stops in a local bookshop to pick up another fairy book to add to her collection. I find a small shop with Mexican household items and pick up a San Marcos blanket with a tiger on the front to take with me to Adrian’s house. I noticed he doesn’t have one, and no self-respecting Mexican man can survive long without one.

Alma and I both have checked out a bit.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling her attention back tome.

“This week will be 10 years since she passed.”

Alma rarely speaks about her mother, but she had passed away when Alma was thirteen. She had no other family and was put into foster care. She tried several times to do an ancestry DNA test to find her biological father, but every time, something would happen to her samples. They either got lost or destroyed in the mail. She gave up after the third try, trusting the universe did not want her to know him. Maybe it was for the best. I know Adrian and Thalia would much rather have never known their biological father.

“Mr. Friborg told me my father was close by. That when the moment was right, he would find me.”

“You think he’s here? In Houston?”

“I think I need to try another route. Maybe try and dig into my mom’s past and figure out what I can. I already know she lied to me about a lot of her stories. My foster family couldn’t even find any evidence of who she was when they adopted me.”

It sounded weird, but I am the last person to question her mother’s motives. Not when my own mother was plotting something.

“I’m going to ask Patricio to help me.”

“Do you think he will?”

---