Getting Sofia

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Matt’s trip to the States had been very successful. While he hated to be separated from Sofia for even a day, the trip had been unavoidable and Sofia would have been miserable had she accompanied him. With this latest business deal finalized, Matt expected be able to stay close to home for a while, close to the woman who had changed his life.

As he lay in bed gazing at her beautiful body, naked as the day she was born, Matt couldn’t help but marvel at how fortunate he was to have Sofia as his wife and lover. It started very innocently. They had been acquaintances of a sort, but nothing more than that.

In the interim Matt had moved to the States for a couple of years to take care of some of his business interests, but he longed to return to Mexico. When he did, Matt returned alone to begin a new phase of my life. While he was gone, Sofia’s life was turned upside down as well and she found herself in a similar state… single and unattached for the first time since her early twenties. Like Matt, Sofia took advantage of her new found freedom and engaged in sex with many lovers, experiencing new highs in her quest for the ultimate orgasm. Although they later agreed to never share the details of their respective trysts during that phase of their lives, it became apparent from that very first day together that there was practically no limit to how far they would go to help each other achieve the joys of carnal pleasure.

Matt’s and Sofi’s getting together happened quite innocently at, of all places, Starbucks in San Miguel de Allende. Ordinarily, Matt avoided the place because he was a true coffee purist. Among his many business interests was a relatively small but fairly lucrative coffee plantation located in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas, practically within spitting distance of the Guatemalan border. His finca had been in his Mother’s family for several generations and produced one of the finest flavored coffee beans in all of Latin America. Matt despised Starbucks because of their snobbish attitude, particularly among their stores’ baristas who likely wouldn’t know the difference between a real coffee bean and a soybean. But he had recently been approached by a coffee buyer from Starbucks in Seattle, his adopted U.S. hometown, about supplying them with some of his specialty beans and before doing the deal Matt wanted to be assured they were worthy of them.

Sitting in the corner of the store with his iPad to entertain him as he watched the baristas, Matt couldn’t help but notice the stunningly beautiful woman who entered the store and placed her order. Tall, blonde and with a slightly athletic build, she was wearing a white sundress that complemented her tan quite nicely. At first Matt assumed she must have been one of the many Americans who had discovered his beautiful home city and chose to migrate there, and then he heard her speak. Her Spanish was flawless and Matt immediately made the connection. She was Sofia Fuentes, wife of a doctor who had died tragically in a private plane crash while Matt had been away living in the States. Pablo Fuentes, a gynecologist, had been a member of one of the country clubs Matt was a member of and he recalled having met Pablo’s wife at a golf banquet of some sort years before.

As she stood at the end of the counter facing Matt while waiting for her order to be prepared, he could see that the sunlight shining in the window from behind made her white sundress practically transparent. Matt could clearly see the outline of her waist and thighs. Sofi’s legs were parted slightly and Matt was treated to two of the longest legs he had ever had the pleasure of fantasizing about. The thin material of the dress and its snugness around her hips further revealed that there was no visible panty line. She could be wearing a thong, he realized, but as his gaze moved up her body, he noticed that her nipples were very hard, poking through the thin fabric of the dress’ bodice. It was then that Matt glanced up and noticed that Sofia was looking directly back at him. He was busted, but she was smiling.

Picking up her large cup of whatever concoction she ordered, the widow Fuentes strode toward Matt, continuing to smile. She had a confident, classy walk and with each step her breasts, obviously unrestrained, swayed from side to side. Her breasts were not large, but perfectly proportioned for her body. On a smaller woman they would appear huge, but on her tall frame they were perfect. As she got closer Matt could even make out the faint outline of her areola, also perfectly proportioned with the size of her breasts and her nipples. When she was within a few feet of him she extended her free hand and spoke to Matt, in flawless English so none of the other locals around them would be able to understand.

“Do you like what you see? I don’t think I have ever been undressed so sensuously in all my life,” she said as their hands touched, literally sending shivers up and down Mat’s spine. “I’m Sofia Fuentes and you look awfully familiar, bahis firmaları but I can’t place you. Have we met before?,” she asked as she proceeded to sit down at Matt’s table in the chair adjacent to his.

“I believe we have, Sofia, but it would have been a number of years ago. I’m Mateo Hermann. I used to be a member at Club de Golf Pedregal en el D.F. and I may have met you and your late husband at an event there years ago. I was so very sorry to have learned of his accident while I was living in the States. Please accept my sincere regrets on your loss…” he stammered, suddenly embarrassed that only moments earlier she had accused him — correctly — of undressing her with his eyes.

“Thank you, Mateo,” Sofia said softly as she reached out to cover Matt’s hand with hers in a reassuring way. “When Pablo died I was crushed. He was the first and only man I had ever been with and I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to continue without him. It’s been over three years since the accident and I am well over the hurt and pain of the accident. I moved out of Mexico City to San Miguel where I have put it all behind me. Very few people here know about my past, not that I care anymore,” she said. “Now tell me about you, Mateo…”

“Please, call me Matt,” he said. “If we are going to speak English you may as well use my American name. That’s how most of my friends and business associates know me anyway.” For the next few minutes he told her about his background and how his parents had met and how he had grown up in San Miguel before leaving to attend college at the University of Washington. “I met a girl there and we got married and I brought her back here to live. But despite frequent trips back to the States and eventually setting up an import-export business to justify having homes here and there, we finally decided that we weren’t meant to be together. We never had time for any children so we decided to go our separate ways, quite amicably, and I understand she recently married someone she had gone to High School with. And here I am.”

About that time, the late morning and early noon crowd started coming in along with a large group of rather boisterous expatriates for some sort of conversational Spanish instruction class. “Sofia, I realize this may be somewhat forward, but I am thoroughly enjoying this conversation and would love to continue it. My town home is right around the corner and I have a lovely courtyard. I can assure you that my maid can make you a much better cup of cafe than they serve here. Would you care to join me?” Matt said, reaching for her hand as he stared directly into her beautiful blue eyes.

“Mateo… I mean Matt, I think that is a delightful idea,” Sofi said as she slipped her arm inside his as they proceeded out the door and down the street.

Just as Sofia and Matt exited Starbucks to begin the two block walk to his home, they felt the first drops of rain. Summer showers in San Miguel were not uncommon but had a tendency to come up quickly and unexpectedly. “We better hurry,” Matt said to Sofia as he reached for her hand and began walking briskly down the cobble stoned sidewalk. Looking down he noticed that she was wearing thin sandals, not the best thing for running if they had to make a break for it.

They were halfway down the first block when the skies opened up completely. Matt picked up their pace but Sofia was having trouble keeping up with him and the last thing he wanted to happen would be for her to sprain an ankle on the wet cobblestones. “How far away did you say your place is, Matt?” Sofia shouted as they heard the first loud roar of thunder.

“At the end of this block we turn right and it’s about two thirds of the way down on the other side,” Matt shouted back as he tried to pick up the pace. But Matt could see that Sofia was just as concerned about spraining her ankle as he was. The only thing more treacherous than trying to run on cobblestones was trying to run on wet cobblestones. As Matt glanced back at her, he noticed that Sofia’s white sun dress was becoming almost transparent in spots where the water had splashed against it. He also noticed that her nipples, which had become relaxed as they chatted back at Starbucks, had become quite pronounced again.

By now it was obvious that it was futile for them to try to beat the rain. Fortunately, they had turned the corner and had begun to make their way up the steep hill to Matt’s town home. “We’re almost there. That’s my place up on the left with the blue shutters,” he said, pointing to a three-story structure with a dark stone facade and massive double oak wood doors that looked like they had been there for a couple hundred years, which they had.

Standing on the top step Matt pressed the buzzer to let his maid, Concha, know to open the door for them, but when she failed to do so immediately he rapidly punched the security code in the box mounted on the wall and the door clicked open. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Matt turned kaçak iddaa back to Sofi and pulled her inside out of the rain.

The first thing Sofi saw upon entering Matt’s house was the large open air courtyard in the center, brimming with colorful plants surrounding a large stone fountain. Rain was coming down in buckets there too. Looking past the bright bougainvillea on the balcony railing overlooking the courtyard, Sofia saw several doors that led to Matt’s suite and to his office. Glancing to her left, however, she saw her reflection in the tall, wide mirror that flanked the front door. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, discovering what Matt had already noticed.

Her dress was completely drenched. The thin fabric outlined every curve and crevice of her body. As she turned sideways to glance at her back, she saw how the wet cotton material accentuated her ass. The water had caused the fabric to be wedged between her crack and she attempted to pull it away from her skin, without success. In doing so, she only succeeded in leaving a bigger puddle on the floor of the entranceway where they stood.

Standing side by side Matt and Sofia looked in the mirror at each other’s reflections and simultaneously began to laugh. Besides being practically nude, Sofia’s eye makeup had begun to run down her face. Matt was wearing a white button downed collar dress shirt that was just as wet as Sofia’s dress. But it was his jeans that had drawn her attention. They were well worn and very faded, but you could clearly see the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric. And Sofia’s eyes were locked in on his bulge.

“Come with me, Sofia. I’m sure you would like to get out of those wet clothes,” Matt said. Leading her up the stairs, he couldn’t help wondering if she was checking out his ass. He knew that, if their positions were reversed and she was leading him, Matt would definitely have been checking out hers.

“Here you go, Sofi…” Matt said, as he opened the door to his bedroom suite. He pointed to the bathroom in the far corner of the large room as she took in the scene. A king sized, four poster bed faced a massive stone fireplace. Situated on a hand-knotted Indian rug in front of the fireplace was a dark leather couch and matching side chairs. “Feel free to get undressed and take a shower. Towels are in the bathroom and you will find a robe behind the door. While you’re doing that I’m going to go downstairs and ask Concha to make us that pot of coffee I promised.” As Matt pulled the door closed behind me, he heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down.

“Thank you, Mateo”, he heard Sofi say.

When Matt got to the kitchen he called out to Concha several times. He glanced down at the counter to see a crudely scrawled note from his elderly maid. “Hola Señor. Mi hija está enferma y su bebé también. Ya me voy. No se cuando regreso.” Concha had been with Matt for years and if her daughter and granddaughter were sick, it had to be serious. Being single, Matt didn’t really need a live-in maid anymore, but felt obligated to keep her on to help her support her family.

He grabbed the coffee out of the cupboard and proceeded to make a pot that he put on a tray with a couple of mugs. Scrounging around Matt even found some crackers and cheese that he organized best he could on a plate. Tray in hand, Matt made his way back upstairs to his suite. Pausing to listen at the door he couldn’t hear the shower running, but knocked on the door anyway to announce his arrival. “Hey, Sofi… are you decent?,” Matt asked.

“Sure… come on in, Matt,” Sofi replied. “I may not be decent but at least I’m finally covered up,” she laughed. Sofi was standing by the window looking out on the street below wearing Matt’s thick terrycloth robe that she found hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. The sleeves had been rolled up, but it was still obvious that the robe was at least two sizes too big. But standing there brushing her hair as the rain continued to pelt the window pane, Matt thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

“Apparently my maid was called home in an emergency and won’t be back for a few days. So I made the coffee myself. I hope you like it,” Matt said as he handed Sofia a cup that she grasped in both hands. “I’m feeling a bit, chilly… how about I start a fire?” Matt said and walked over to the fireplace to grab some kindling and logs and proceeded to arrange them in the only source of heat in the whole house. Striking a match and holding it to the seasoned wood, he soon had a roaring fire.

“You know, Matt, you might feel warmer if you got out of your wet clothes,” Sofia laughed. Matt turned around to see Sofi curled up on the leather couch, her feet tucked underneath her, coffee cup still clinched in both hands.

Matt laughed at Sofi’s comment. “You’re right, Sofia. I’ll be right back,” he said as he headed off in the direction of the bathroom. Before Matt could take two steps, Sofi stopped him.

“Hold kaçak bahis on, mister. Where do you think you are going?”

Matt looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

Sofi continued. “Back at Starbucks you practically undressed me with your eyes. And when we got back here soaked to the bone you saw every bit of me. So now it’s your turn, Mateo. Strip.”

“You’re not serious,” he laughed somewhat sarcastically. “You really want me to get naked in front of you. Here? Now?”

“You’re damn right, Matt. Paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they? So get started. Take off your shirt.” With that Matt proceeded to yank out the tails of his white dress shirt from his jeans. “Wait a minute, Matt,” Sofi said, her voice a little firmer but still friendly. “I told you to strip. Not get undressed. This is for my benefit. Besides, the maid isn’t here and nobody’s in a rush to get your clothes back to you. So s-t-r-I-p for me.”

As Matt stared into Sofi’s eyes, he could see she was serious. Alright, then, he thought to himself, “If she wants me to strip, so be it. But I am going to enjoy it too.” Beginning with his cuffs, Matt unbuttoned one and then the other, never losing contact with Sofi’s eyes. She had a faint smile on her face as her eyes followed Matt’s hand movements as they moved from his sleeve to his neck. Slowly Matt unbuttoned the top button, and then the second, more slowly than the previous one.

When he was halfway down the front of his shirt, Sofi could clearly see the small white patch of hair in the center of Matt’s chest. From the center it spread up to his neck and out to the side, covering his nipples with light brown hair before forming a line that pointed down in the direction of his groin. Subconsciously, Sofi licked her lips.

With each successive button Matt could see how focused Sofi was on his task at hand. Matt had no idea what was in store, but he had begun to enjoy the sensation of stripping for this beautiful woman. What she didn’t know, but would soon discover with the absence of any tan lines, was that Matt was a naturist — a nudist. Inside his home, he rarely wore clothes.

Finally, Matt had the last shirt button undone and was able to pull the tails of his shirt slowly out of his worn jeans. He did so very deliberately, his gaze still fixed firmly on the beautiful woman seated on the couch in front of him. Matt slid the shirt down his back and, grabbing it by the collar before it fell to the floor, tossed it in the direction of the couch.

Without shifting his gaze away from her, Matt pulled on the braided leather belt flap and, in one swift motion, yanked it free of the clasp and proceeded to pull the leather strap through the loops before he tossed it onto the floor. Hands on his hips, Matt paused as Sofia took a nervous sip of her coffee while she gazed at his half naked body standing in front of her. She was tempted to ask him about the ugly scar on his stomach, but there would be time for that later. Right now, she just wanted him to finish the job.

Reading her mind, Matt unbuttoned the single metal button at his waistband and started to slowly slide down his zipper. Before it was halfway down, Sofi leaned forward for a closer look. Seeing black cloth poking through the fly, Sofi exclaimed, incredulously, “Are you wearing underwear, Matt???”

“Of course I am”, Matt laughed, “doesn’t everybody?”

“Hell, no!” Sofi laughed, “…but just keep going. I’m enjoying this.”

Matt slid his jeans down over his hips revealing his tight black Tommy John boxer briefs. ‘Fortunately they don’t have the Tommy John name on the waistband like some of the pairs I own do,’ he thought. Otherwise, he might never live it down.

As soon Matt’s jeans were down around his knees, Sofia moved into a sitting position, pulling her feet out from under her and placed them firmly on the floor. She stared at Matt’s semi-hard cock, just three feet away.

Looking up at Matt, Sofi said: “I can’t believe you’ve been able to hide that thing from me all this time. I saw the outline of it in the mirror downstairs and I thought it was huge then, but that was when I thought you were going commando. Now I can see that I was very, very wrong.

“Now, come closer…. “, Sofi motioned, as she shifted her gaze back at Matt’s bulge.

Matt shuffled over in front of Sofia, his jeans still bunched around his ankles. Sofi reached out and ran her fingers over the length of Matt’s cock through the soft, thin fabric. “Why, you’re not even hard yet!”, she exclaimed as she squeezed him. With that Sofia reached up to grasp the waistband of Matt’s briefs and yanked them down over his hips. Matt’s cock sprung out, pointing straight at her face. Though it was not yet erect, it was beginning to stiffen as Matt felt Sofi’s warm breath on it.

Sofi reached out and grabbed Matt’s cock with her right hand, right behind the bulbous head. Since the death of her husband, Sofi had been with and pleasured many men. In the dark, there wasn’t much difference in their cocks, nor the men attached to them she had discovered. Here in the light of day, with the added benefit of the roaring fireplace, Sofia was able to study and admire Matt’s penis.

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