From The Moment I Saw Him - I Loved Him

By Chrissy

I am a whore.

I was born of a whore and I was raised in a whorehouse. It's all I know. It's my life. It's not such a bad life. Actually I quite enjoy it. But, then, I have been lucky. Thanks to Luis. Luis Vargas.

Ahhh - Luis. I can still remember the first time I saw him.

He was a boy of 18 years that day he came bounding into the whorehouse. He had his father's permission and a pocketful of coins. I remember how he leapt up the stairs three at a time eager to experience a woman and lose his virginity. I remember how his gaze went up and down my body and, despite my great experience with men; I felt the hot blood rise in my neck and face. It was his eighteenth birthday that day, and Luis had reached complete physical maturity. There had long since ceased to be anything adolescent about him.

I knew he would choose me. I was the youngest and the prettiest. I was a girl of just 15 years and had been working as a whore since I was 12.

He did choose me. His amber eyes roved over us all. But he picked me. Just as I knew he would. He smiled the warmest smile I have ever seen and took my hand with a polite nod of his head. I led him into the bedchamber that was my home and my life. I pulled the curtain and turned to face him.

A strikingly, almost aggressively beautiful man stood looking back at me. His features were engaging and attractive, but it was his eyes that struck me the most. Those eyes. Clear, speckled amber surrounded by thick black lashes. Eyes that revealed a window into his heart and soul for they spoke even more certainly than the words that formed in his mouth. There was about Luis a manner of warm luxuriance, something immediately suggestive but something for which he was not responsible and something of which he was not even aware.

My God! I still remember the powerful longing that went through me. I could not wait to show this young man the ways of love. I would guide him from virginity to maturity.

But it was Luis who taught me. He was an innocent, yes, yet he instinctively knew about seduction. Men who visit prostitutes are takers. They do not pay their money to spend the time giving pleasure to their whore. Except for Luis. Luis would stroke and lick me and take genuine enjoyment in my squirming rapture. When we lay together we became true lovers.

But I am rambling. I want to tell you about Luis. About what happened.

Luis was born the son of a wealthy coffee merchant. But the reins of the business were not simply handed down to him by his father. No. Luis had to earn the right to prosper in his father's coffee house. He worked hard and long. He worked his way to the top. He managed to do this without ever compromising his decency and gracious ways. Luis is a fine, fine man. I admire him for the man he is and for the way in which he conducts his life. He is a noble gentleman.

But, again, dear reader, I digress.

I was a young girl of 15 with the fresh bloom of youth still warm on my cheek. This life can sour women. But I hadn't soured yet. I was young and keen and attractive. Men paid extra to be with me and the additional money bought me a nicer chamber in the brothel. Soon I had a room with a window and balcony. It was small, of course, with no proper door - only a torn damask curtain, but it was a fine room in which to entertain the handsome Luis.

Oh, I remember everything as if it were yesterday. He came to stand behind me, his hands on my breasts, his head bent so that his mouth touched the nape of my neck. He lifted my hair and kissed my shoulder. Shivers went through me. I remember how he took my hand and gently pulled me down onto the bed.

"What is your name?" he asked softly.

I stared back surprised. No man had ever asked my name before. "Melina," I replied, somewhat mystified.

"Melina," he murmured pushing back hair so that he might see my face. "How fair you are." He smiled, looking into my eyes with a tenderness I'd never seen on a man's face before. I remember how he tipped his head to meet my mouth and how both strong arms slid gently around my waist pulling me to him. He opened his mouth and his tongue met mine caressing as desire mounted. His teeth nipped softly on my lips and my eyes opened to see his amber gaze playful and direct looking right back at me.

Together we rolled back onto the bed and I was glad that I had placed clean muslin sheets on the mattress that very morning. They smelled of sweetness and sunshine. Luis continued kissing me as he gently moved his body alongside mine. A warm palm slid along my thigh to the edge of my bloomers. "Shall we disrobe?" I asked, my breathing thick and spurred on by increasing desire.

"No. I want to undress you, Melina," he whispered back. "Is that all right?"

"Of course," I replied, my voice obliging. Men did what they wanted to a whore. They never asked permission.

Slowly he unlaced my busk, kissing each scrap of skin as it was bared. "Your corsets redden you, " he commented softly, leaning down to touch his lips to my inflamed flesh.

"It is the price women must pay for fashion" I smiled back. "The whale bones prick and dig me, but at least my waist is squeezed fashionably small and my breasts forced high."

"But you are slim and shapely. You do not need corsets," he argued seriously. "Don't wear them next time. I don't want to see pinched skin."

I smiled inwardly. Next time! He had been with me only minutes yet already he spoke of the next time. The thought that we would come together again thrilled me.

Slowly, ever so slowly he removed my cotton bodice and pulled the starched petticoats over my head. Soon I was naked except for an elastic garter and white silk stockings. His eyes roved over me. "Leave them on," he whispered, his voice revealing increasing desire. "I want to take you in silk stockings and nothing else."

"But what about you, sir?" I asked.

"Me?" he laughed, "silk stockings would not suit me at all, I'm afraid!"

"No, no," A delightful smile crossed my features. Luis was proving to be something so unique, so very special. "I meant that you are still fully dressed."

"Not for long," he grinned, pulling off his jacket.

Then, with a mischievous smile, he put a hand into the inside pocket and pulled out a cigar. "And when we are finished, I will smoke this," he stated, placing the cigar on the table by the bed. "It will be my first cigar."

"I wonder which you will enjoy the most," I smiled, feeling so comfortable and happy in the presence of this gorgeous young man. "Your first woman or your first cigar."

"Ahh! The pleasures of adulthood," he grinned, "I will enjoy them all." He stood up from the bed and unbuttoned his embroidered vest and full-sleeved white linen shirt.

I saw right away that his body was not that of a youth. He was strong, his physique magnificent with a look of robust good health and animal strength. Black hairs sprouted on a firm chest, muscles flexed on arms that were thick and strong. But my eyes lingered when he removed his breeches. His swelled cock was dripping with enthusiasm.

I felt almost intoxicated and light headed. I had never felt this way with any man before. A craving for him filled me.

Stretching back on the bed I opened my legs, my eyes challenging his. He gave a low whistle. "Holy Jesus!" he hissed softly. "It's really going to happen! Christ! My heart is pounding."

With a sudden fervor, he fell onto the bed and rolled atop me. Some men fumble and loose their way, but not Luis. With a cry he guided his hardness into me at once and I was filled to capacity. There is nothing in this world as rigid as the excited cock of a youth of 18.

Grunting and gripping my body close to his, he moved himself up and down, in and out. My legs opened wide and I tucked them around his heaving ass. I gasped, surprised at the sensation within me. What was happening? Other men did not cause me to feel like this. He was stroking against something inside me, something that saturated my loins in honeyed pleasure. I cannot explain the feeling; I can only say that I had never felt it before.

Then, to my surprise, he clutched me tight in a close embrace and rolled in the bed so that his body lay beneath me. I was now on top and his hands fell to kneading my ass so that I rode back and forth in great agitation upon his erection. His eyes were open and looking directly at me. The tawny gaze glowed with tormented passion.

"Christ! I'm going to erupt within you," he cried, his voice throaty and urgent.

"I am of the same outcome, Luis," I returned, my blood hot, my voice just as hoarse.

It may come as a surprise to you, but in my three years of whoring, I had never reached a climax. This was new to me. I didn't quite know what to expect. I can only describe it as a mounting feeling of such intense pleasure that one would seek to experience the sensation over and over again.

The release hit us both at the same time. My whole being tensed, every muscle strained for one pleasurable moment in time. Then a discharge of acute ecstasy filled me and I flopped helplessly forward onto his sweating chest, my hot face buried in his neck. It had never happened to me before. I thought it was only men who experienced climax.

Our energy spent we both took many minutes to recover.

Finally, I looked up at his face, pushing my heavy hair from my wet cheek. "Now you will smoke your first cigar?" I asked, reaching for the matches.

He smiled down at me and kissed the tip of my nose. "Christ no! I want to make love again. And again. And again," he cried exhilarated. "To hell with smoking a cigar! I have never enjoyed anything as much. I have climaxed by my own hand many times, but inside a woman is considerably more enjoyable."

We fornicated lustily many times throughout that first evening. Luis was a vigorous man. A very vigorous man. A man with an insatiable appetite for the joys of the flesh. When I lowered my mouth down his lean body and took his great cock inside my moist confines of tight tongue and warm spittle he groaned his delight. "Women do this to men?" he gasped, somewhat shocked.

"Not all women," I replied, licking my lips. He really did taste so very good. "Only whores."

He pondered my words, "Then I will lay only with whores," I heard him mumble as I went back to work on his shaft. "Because this feeling is sheer heaven." I knew exactly what to do. I knew what thrilled men and I knew what drove them over the edge of desire.

He came in my mouth and I swallowed every drop. I usually spat the mouthful out onto the floor, but everything about Luis was extraordinary. He was a fine young man. Much finer than the likes of those men with whom I had usual acquaintance.

He slumped back among the cushions of my bed. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and gazed down at him. As he lay, with his eyes closed, he appeared so serenely satisfied and content. He was the most beautiful being I had ever encountered. Filled with a sudden affection and tenderness, I reached out and ran my fingers through the ebony masses of curls about his head. His amber eyes opened and he looked up at me, his face moist and flushed, "My darling," he murmured, his voice lingered over the word and he raised a hand to stroke my cheek. A look passed between us and at that moment in time I fell in love with Luis Vargas.

Then, giggling like a naughty child he sat up on the bed and placed the cigar in his mouth. I struck a match and he puffed hard to get the smoke started. The first few puffs caused an almost greenish tinge on his tanned face. "This is supposed to be enjoyable?" he asked me in honest bewilderment, choking on the effects of the smoke in his throat. I nodded with a laugh of playful glee. "Don't swallow it all," I chuckled, "Don't inhale so much."

"Well, I think I would prefer a whore any day!" he rolled over and crushed out the cigar in the glass ashtray by the bed.

I looked away quickly. I suddenly felt as if I had just been struck across the face. Luis didn't mean to hurt me, of course, but with his words he brought me back to earth. He reminded me so clearly of the difference in our stations. In his arms, in his tender embrace, for a mad moment I had been someone else. A lover, a sweetheart, maybe even a wife. But, of course, I would always be a whore. One day he would rise to become the owner of a prosperous coffee house. But I would always be a whore.

He stood to his feet and grabbed his wallet from his jacket. He pushed many paper bills into my hand accentuating the relationship between us.

"This is the money I received for my 18 birthday," he grinned happily. "And you may have it all, Melina. You are worth every damn penny."

He suddenly laughed loudly. "There! I said 'damn'! I can now curse like a real man! This has been a special day!"

He pulled on his clothes and turned back to me. "I will come to you on Sundays after church." Despite myself I smiled at the incongruous words. First he would visit church and then he would visit me? How bizarre!!

I looked forward to the following Sunday with all of my heart. It was just noon and half the brothel still in slumber when Luis bounded up the stairs brimming with keen energy. This time he had a gift for me. A box filled with sheer white silk stockings. "I want you to wear them when we make love," he said. He had also purchased handfuls of satin ribbons for my hair.

"You are so fair, Melina," he murmured, pushing back my hair. "I want to see ribbons in your lovely hair."

It's true. I am fair. I am not dark skinned like most of the women in Cuba. My hair is reddish brown, my eyes green. My skin is pale and spattered with freckles. I have been told I am very beautiful. My mother told me my father was an American. I don't know if it is true, but I do not look like others.

I remember that second time as if it were yesterday. We were familiar with each other now. We knew each other's body. We made love several times, our limbs tangled in mad passion as we thrashed about on the bed in a variety of positions. Sweating and breathless we fell apart, having copulated for the fourth time that particular Sunday. Luis lay relaxed, his breathing hard and loud.

"Melina?" he said, pulling me tight in his arms as we lay together, "When you take me in your mouth it is a wonderful experience."

"I'm glad," I yawned lazily, my eyes closed. I was warm and drowsy and marvelously content, my body only just becoming aware of the surrounding world. I felt I could not have moved even a finger. Sex with Luis was a drug for me. A drug of complete happiness.

"What if I did it to you?" he asked.

Surprised at his words, I opened my eyes and looked at him with a puzzled frown. "What? What did you say?"

His tawny eyes gazed back at me. "I want to lick you,"

I came up on one elbow, "What do you mean? I don't understand."

"I want to lick you down there, between your legs. I keep thinking about it."

Well, this was new territory for me. I was only 15, but I had been with dozens of men and I had done many uncommon and erotic acts. But a man wanting to lick my cunt was an experience I had never encountered.

He moved close and his mouth caressed mine. "Can I do it?" He was breathless and urging, pressing his body against mine. His cock was rigid hard once again.

"But I am not washed!" I protested.

"I don't care! It's only myself that has been within you today."

With these words his mouth left mine and he slid down my body until his face rested between my legs. I felt awkward and strange. This was a part of coupling I had never encountered. But the feathery warmth of his breath in the mound of soft curls between my legs was proving to be more than I could manage. My body jerked, my hips rose of their own accord and his mouth found the lips of my virgina. His tongue stroked at something that sent a shock through my system and I cried out almost hysterical with sudden desire.

His head came up and he looked at me. "Does it hurt?"

"Oh God No!" I cried, squirming uncontrollably. "It is most wonderful. Do it again, Luis"

That day Luis introduced me to the pleasure of repeated climax. The sensation came so strong and then it left and then it came again until I was thrashing about on the tangled sheets, sweating, mad cries coming from my throat, almost savage with passion.

"Suck me, too" Luis breathed and we arranged our bodies so that my mouth took his shaft just as his tongue whipped me into renewed frenzy.

Our cries of ecstasy were so deafening there were complaints from the other whores.

***

Luis would come to me every Sunday. He toiled long hours at the coffee house. From Monday to Saturday he worked fourteen-hour days. But on Sunday he was mine. His only day of relaxation he chose to spend with me.

I watched as his body developed strong and magnificent. Flagrantly handsome, yet always kind and tender, Luis was my dream lover. I loved him totally and passionately with all of my being.

He never came empty handed. He always brought gifts. Wonderful gifts. Beautiful gowns, cloaks, petticoats, smocks, shoes, gloves, fans and masks. All paraphernalia of a lady of quality and gifts which I could never utilize, but I cherished them nonetheless.

He brought me select coffee beans from his fields, which I would brew on the small stove in my room. We would drink coffee, sitting up in bed, sometimes and playing cards between making love. Sometimes Luis would bring business documents to read and he spent some time teaching me the art of reading. A skill I picked up with quick ease.

After sex, Luis would smoke his cigar and I would smoke the small, delicately rolled cigarettes made especially for ladies of quality that Luis would bring for me. I became quite addicted to the tiny cigarettes and found I could never quite leave them alone. He brought me imported chocolates and sweets. He purchased a pair of true gold hoops for my ears and one day took my hand and slid a beautiful ornate gold and pearl ring on my finger.

I loved him completely and when I was 17 years I gave birth to his son.

***

Whores have a technique for warding off pregnancy. An instrument would be filled with cold water, lemon juice, and vinegar. Following intercourse with a man, it would be inserted into the vagina and the fluid squirted within. It was supposed to work. Sometimes it did and sometimes it didn't for many of the girls fell with child.

Many of the girls didn't bother much with personal hygiene, but I kept myself clean. A pitcher of hot water was expensive, but I purchased hot water and bathed with the perfumed soap that Luis gave me. I washed myself clean and sweet after every man. After every man, that is, except Luis. I wanted the smell of him on me. I wanted the fluids of him. I wanted them inside me. I would clench my thighs together, holding in the semen. I didn't want to lose any of him. You see, I wanted his child.

When I was 17 years I fell with child. Living in a brothel, I was well enough acquainted with the early symptoms of pregnancy. My period stopped. My breasts felt stretched and sore as though pricked with a thousand pins. I had no doubt it was Luis's child. I knew it with a total certainty.

Luis noticed the swell of my belly. "I must stop bringing you chocolates" he smiled, his lips playing along my skin. "You are gaining weight."

I wanted to tell Luis, yet I was half scared for I guessed that he would not be pleased.

"Luis - what if I should get with child?"

"Do you think that you are?" he looked up at me.

I nodded feeling strangely embarrassed. "Don't be mad at me," I whispered. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him it was his child I carried. But the idea did not even seem to have entered his head.

"Why would I be mad?" he returned, placing a cigar in his mouth. "I will continue to come to you, Melina, you know that."

As my belly grew, we found different ways to make love. Sometimes we simply lay in each other's arms kissing and caressing. Sometimes he would massage coconut oil into my swollen belly, his slippery hands finding their way to my breasts and between my legs. Then we would laugh. It was pure delight to be with Luis.

One humid August night I gave birth to a squealing son. The other girls helped me in my struggle as I brought a strong healthy boy into the world. I named him Antonio because I had always liked the name and because I did not dare name him Luis for his father.

Luis brought gifts for the child and seemed quite taken with the newborn. I wondered if he had any idea that the child was his.

But Luis's own life was changing. His beloved father died suddenly and Luis inherited full control of the coffee house. His was incredibly busy and I did not see him for months.

When he did return to me, baby Antonio was six months and I had purchased the room next to mine as a nursery for the child.

Our first coupling was wild and filled with savage passion. "I have missed you terribly, Melina," Luis growled his enormous cock deep in me, his sweet round ass thrusting in and out with vigour. "My own hand is a paltry substitute for your tight cunt."

"I thought you had forgotten me," I gasped. Oh God! I was melting. No other man could do this to me. Why was it that only Luis could bring me to such physical eruption?

"I could never forget you, Melina." We climaxed together, sweating and heaving. Next door the baby began to cry.

"Are Sunday afternoons still mine?" Luis asked, as he climbed from the bed.

"Of course," I replied, somewhat mystified. Why was Luis going so soon? He had just arrived. "Why are you leaving?" I asked.

"Your baby is crying," he whispered. "Won't you go to him?"

"He's fine," I returned. "Do you want to see him?"

I brought the child into the bed with us. Luis became enchanted, cooing and gurgling, holding the bundle in his arms with fatherly tenderness.

Two years later I gave birth to another boy. I named him Jose. Once again I was convinced that Luis was the father.

I was a little surprised to find that Luis - who I half expected would be indifferent to babies - delighted in the children as much as I.

And so time passed by pleasantly. It was many years later when Luis told me he had sent to America for a bride.