'Oooooohhh!' she cried 'Ooooohhh, yessss, I'm cummmmmiiinnng… ooooooohhhh! I'm cuummmmiinnng!' With a deep-throated groan her body stiffened and began vibrating uncontrollably, wet white cum gushing from the throbbing passage and drowning Roberto's hugely impaling member with its slippery heat.
Then Roberto went berserk as she grunted out her mind-shattering cum against his heated cock, her body jerking spasmodically up against him.
His harshly kneading hands pulled the widespread cheeks of her trembling ass hard up against his grinding pelvis and he rammed his exploding hardness all the way to the hilt into the depths of her wildly sucking cunt. Isabella thought her insides were about to split as she felt the head of the deep-sunk prick flex and flare into a hugeness that threatened to tear into her belly.
Then, suddenly, he erupted, his thick hot liquid shooting deep up into her wildly stretched womb, mixing deliciously with her own pussy juices. Her mind whirled in a seemingly endless cum as the burning, powerful gushes surged deep inside her, filling her to overflowing with its hot slick whiteness. The hot, drenched walls of her cunt clasped and unclasped around it, working and milking his rod as though trying to milk him dry. Cum juice flowed wetly out around his still fucking cock, flooding wetly over his balls and the base of his prick as he fucked relentlessly up into her.
Brilliant flashes of light filled Isabella's head as she breathed in short, desperate gasps, their mingled juices flowing in unchecked spurts down between her writhing legs. Reaching frantically back between her thighs with both hands to milk desperately at his lewdly dancing balls, she felt the giant cock still continuing to throb and flex, jerking its completion in hot white spurts, filling her womb and further soaking the cum-drenched pussy hair it was buried in.
'Ooooohhh… feels… so… gooooooodddd…!' she screamed.
The starving inner folds of her cunt sucked fiercely at the lurching cock until it finally gave one last spasmodic jerk and lay limp inside her nakedly quivering belly.
The exhausted man collapsed across her body, feeling her insides still gushing forth around his rapidly deflating prick. At last, she too gave a final jerk and trembled to stillness. Her firm, perfectly sculpted body felt drained of everything, her belly filled to the bursting point with their hot slippery cum juices.
Roberto lay still for a moment, trying to recover his strength, then slowly pulled his softened cock out of her totally sated pussy. He could see the soaking wet slit of her cunt glistening wetly, the insides of her thighs heavily smeared with the white hot juice that dripped in tiny rivulets out of her pussy to form a wet, lewd pool beneath her.
The old man sighed as the memory faded. That was so long ago, the old man thought, and they were all dead now, Roberto and Isabella. Dead but not forgotten; he would never forget the one great love of his life.
Things might have been so different for him here in the United States if she had not died in Cuba, life would have been better. This old worn house that he called his home would have been a castle if she had lived. The woman he had married had been a good woman, and he had loved her in his own special way, as much as he could love any woman other than Isabella. But his wife had been different, she had been born in the United States, and she had been brought up differently, more like the American women who were too liberated for his liking. Their two sons were much like her, strong, defiant. He was not yet sure if he liked the way they had become, it was almost as though they meant to be what their tough exteriors made them out to be.
The old man turned his head into the pillow. He had no right to criticize his sons that way, they were only doing what they thought was right. If they did not run his gang, the Morros, as he thought it should be run, then perhaps they were right. They were young men and he was old, they knew the times that they lived in and he no longer did.
If being cruel the way that they were was the only way to survive, then he could understand their actions, but just once let him catch them misusing their power, and he would tan their hides!
Chapter 2
'So, Bernardo, now that my youngest son is home from New York we will have no peace around this house, will we, Salvador?'
Leonardo Mendosa reached out affectionately and rumpled the dark thatch of curly black hair on his youngest son's head as he would a child.
'Sure, Dad, and Salvador isn't wild at all,' he replied, reaching into a pocket of his black leather jacket with the Morros insignia on the back for his comb and nervously rearranged his rumpled hair. He hated his father when he rumpled his hair that way. That was for boys and small children, not for a man such as he. He hated the fact that he could not tell him to stop doing it. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have told him not to do it anymore, but now, with him so ill, he could say nothing.
He was alarmed at how much he'd changed, just since the beginning of the summer, but he'd quickly put the thought out of his mind. Old people were always getting sick, weren't they? It couldn't really be serious. All he had to do was cheer him up a little, like he had ever since he was small, and he'd let him get away with anything he wanted.
'Look at him, Salvador,' the bedridden older man laughed, turning to his elder son, his thin face wreathed in smiles. 'Not a hair can be out of place. But you make me proud of you. I have heard from my cousin in New York and they are all well pleased to have you marry their daughter. She too, is pleased to have you as her husband. You did well in New York. We have done well through your actions.'
'I am glad. She will make a good wife,' he said. 'It will be a long wait for me until she is old enough to be married. How many years will it be? Three? Four? Whatever, I will look forward to it anxiously.'
Looking from one to the other, Leonardo Mendosa spoke, his voice trembling with intensity. 'For a father,' he said, 'all the medicines in the world don't do as much as having two sons as fine as you two are. Sometimes this summer, when I was really bad, I didn't think I'd live to see tomorrow. But now, today, I feel like I could live forever.
And even if I don't, just seeing my youngest son fulfilling my dream of reuniting my family that was so cruelly separated in Cuba, makes all things fine.'
'And you will be there at the wedding!' Salvador added, his high forehead furrowing into an angry frown. 'You're talking like you won't be here to see the wedding, but you will be, you must be!'
'I hope so,' he insisted. 'No matter what, I can meet Saint Peter with a pure heart because I know I have done my best to bring our family together again. I am so proud of my two good sons!'
Leonardo settled back on the pillow and smiled weakly. 'It is good to have you home again. We have missed you. I'm tired now. I have to sleep.'
A few moments later, Bernardo and his brother were making their way down the hall from their fathers bedroom, both silently worried about their father's condition but neither speaking of it to the other.
It seemed to the older brother that his life was full of problems lately. Not only was there tension in the Morros gang over how to defend their turf from rival gangs, he was also faced with the total exposure of his gang and its activities by the biggest newspaper in Miami. For months now there had been newspaper articles in all the local papers about street gangs in Miami, making it hot for all of them, for everything they did was subject to investigation. Sensing the issue's vote-getting potential, the mayor had personally instructed the police commissioner to launch an all-out war on the most powerful of the gangs to break them up, destroy them. At first, Salvador hadn't thought too much about it. The Morros had ridden out these things before. All you had to do was lie low for a while, and lay off the heavy crime and soon the media and the police would almost forget they were even alive. That was the way it normally worked, and would have worked this time too, but for one man, one stupid, idiot reporter who had taken more than a passing interest in the Morros. He had gone after them like a holy cause, writing article upon article about them, as though he wanted to see them all in the grave. He had come pretty close to doing just that too. He had made life so hot for the Morros that they could hardly walk down the street without being followed by cops or by the reporter himself. Hell, the guy, Rick Taggart was his name, seemed to know as much about them, their history, and what they were doing as they did. Somehow or another, they were going to have to shut the guy up, but how?
They had three choices on how to get rid of the guy, each one posing its own particular problems. The whole
