May Story - Miami MILF (Chapter 9) (Patreon)

We all have an itch to scratch. People either can’t figure out what that itch is, or they get in trouble in their relationships cheating, but I think the big question is, “Was it an itch to scratch or something more?” For me, it was both. I spent so much time trying to find someone who was that balance of emotional and sexual connection. Usually, it was one or the other. Someone was too sexual and not very emotional, or even afraid of emotions. Another person was all about emotions but strayed from really kinky sexy stuff, and so I didn’t feel fulfilled.

When I woke up a couple hours later, it popped into my head that I was officially in love with Joan Braulio. There was no question about it. No more beating around the bush. No more euphemisms. I wanted to shout to the heavens, “I LOVE YOU!” It was the one thing I was holding back.

I faced her and admired her as she lay sleeping next to me.

I also felt a wave of satisfaction, like there were no more worries in the world. In that moment, stuff like COVID-19 or the war in Ukraine or whatever else was going on in the world meant nothing, as horrible as that sounds. It wasn’t like I wanted to ignore them or whatever. Rather, Joan had the power to take me away from everything.

She stirred awake a few minutes after me. She opened her eyes and yawned, looking straight up at me.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hi,” I replied, smirking.

“What time is it?”

“It’ssssss…6:15 PM.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Wow. You know how to make a woman pass out.”

“You know how to make a guy cum.”

She stared up at the ceiling, and then narrowed her eyes as she thought about something.

“What is it?” I asked.

“How come you wanted me to burp?”

I had completely forgotten about that, almost like I was in some drunken stupor and forgot I ever said it. I scratched my neck and mumbled incoherently. I even got up to put my clothes back on.

“Wait, come here,” she said smiling. “Come back to bed. What is it?”

“Shouldn’t we get dinner or something?’

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Uff.”

“It’s okay, Lucas. I won’t judge.”

“I may or may not uh…” Mutter, mutter.

“What?”

More muttering. My cheeks felt red hot. I had gone through this numerous times with other exes but saying it out loud was always embarrassing. I also really cared about Joan and didn’t want to freak her out or disgust her.

She shrugged innocently. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I was just curious.” She got up to get dressed too, but then snuck up behind me and whispered, “But if you don’t tell me what turns you on, then I may never do it again.”

I turned to her. “Wait what? Really?”

She didn’t answer, just shrugged with a devilish grin and went to her closet to dress up. “I know a good cheap place we can go to. La Carreta. It’s a--”

“Oh, I love that place!” I interjected. “That Cuban chain restaurant.”

My family and I used to go there all the time. Gosh, it had been so long since I last went there. It was a small chain restaurant in Miami-Dade County that specialized in Cuban food. Everything tasted crisp and fresh, and relatively cheap too. Just thinking about it watered my mouth and made my stomach growl.

We drove inland to get to the nearest one in a town called Hialeah. The sun had set but since the sky was clear you still caught rays from the horizon. I thought about the drive back from the club the previous night.

“Are you going to live here from now on?” I asked.

Joan nodded, gazing out the open window. “I hope so. Who wouldn’t? I’ve got savings built up. Even if Morgan does take most of everything, I should have enough to be on my own here. I think I have one more school in me. After that it’ll just be me and the beach.”

La Carreta was a two-storied establishment with elaborate murals inside. Every sign was in Spanish – that’s when you know you are legit in Miami.

We sat in a booth away from everyone. Right away, Joan ordered a million things. Croquetas de jamón, yuca fries, and a jumbo bowl of black bean soup for an appetizer. I always loved their skirt steak, known as a churrasco. She went with “ropa vieja”, shredded beef with onions and peppers. No good Cuban meal is good without the famous yerba mate soda, Materva.

When we received our appetizer, I stared at her as she gobbled down her black bean soup. The best way to eat a traditional black bean soup is to fill it with white rice. She moaned with pleasure as she gobbled up her soup.

“So good,” she murmured.

She slurped loudly towards the end. Her lips dripped with black sauce. She snickered and wiped it off.

She continued to eat noisily throughout our dinner, all while talking to me about life. She was also one of those people who moaned a little when they ate food they really liked. It was weird at first, then amusing, then sexy.

Joan smacked her lips after eating a croqueta. She let slip a burp and said, “So where are you going to go now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your archaeology digs.”

I blanked out. During my entire spring break, I had completely forgotten about my calling in life. It took me a hot moment to figure out what to say. “Well. Right now, I’m finishing my PhD. I might teach in the future. That would be my fallback plan when I get older. But I also have to finish my thesis.”

“What are you thinking of writing about?”

“I don’t know yet. I just started. But…”

I zoned out to a fantasy that played in my mind. Joan and I would live together in Miami. Mexico wasn’t far away at all. I had already visited Chichén Itzá and other Mayan ruins in the past, mostly for pleasure. I could go and come back. Even better. I’d let Joan tag along too. I became amused at the thought of her complaining about walking in the jungle.

“What is it?” she said.

I didn’t realize that I had chuckled out loud.

“Nothing. Just something funny. I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

At the end of our dinner, Joan had eaten enough for two people. She leaned back and patted her belly going, “Uff!” She stifled a burp, and there was a seductive gleam in her eye when she did so. “Comí mucho.”

I paid for the check. She could hardly get up from the booth when we left. Her struggle turned me on. She acted pregnant, holding her bloated belly trying to get up. On our way out, Joan slid her arm through mine and said, “So, we are going on dates now?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

She checked her watch. “The night is still young. Want to go downtown?”

“Sure.”

By the time we reached downtown, night had fallen. This was the first time I really entered the city of Miami. The view was quite spectacular as we approached it. Thousands of pretty lights dotted the skyline. Something about it looked unreal, like in a video game or something. I had no idea until then that they even had a monorail. It snaked through the streets, around skyscrapers, above us.

Joan directed me to a parking lot near Bayside Marketplace. It brimmed with activity, and the Ferris wheel shone. From there we walked across a park taking in the night air. We stared across the water and spotted some large fish in the water. A few kids had congregated to take pictures of it and wondered out loud what they were. Joan told me a story about how she got in trouble once jumping into the water here.

“It was my first time, so I was used to Puerto Rico,” she said. “You can just swim wherever there. I saw some dolphins and wanted to greet them, but the cops came and were all ‘What are you doing?’ That’s the thing about America. All these rules.”

Ironic, really.

The Ferris wheel loomed over us as we approached it. The line wasn’t too long, so I nodded towards it saying we should hitch a ride.

I paid for her again, and she tightened her arm around mine and whispered in my ear, “I like a man who takes charge and treats me.” I blushed as we waited for our cabin. She continued, “I can treat you back.”

We stepped into the cabin. I was used to the more rickety, slightly uncomfortable Ferris wheels. It had been ages since I went on one, what with Six Flags Great Adventure being expensive as fuck now for the average person. The cabins in the Bayside Marketplace Ferris wheel were enclosed all around with windows, equipped with air conditioning and comfortable seats.

“Wow,” I murmured, toggling the air conditioning and looking out the windows.

There’s always that sudden jerk at the pit of my stomach when I go up a Ferris wheel, although it only lasts for a moment.

Over the roar of the air conditioning, I heard a loud gurgle. Joan was sitting across from me, and she clutched her belly.

“Oof. I ate too much,” she said.

I shifted in my seat, already getting a boner. I found that I could indeed lower the air conditioning. I did so in order to hear her better.

Her belly was bulging out of her dress. She was relaxed now, so everything hung out in all its glory. Her stomach kept gurgling and I closed my legs.

“What’s wrong?” she said, noticing that I had closed my legs. She smirked. “Something the matter?”

“No, nothing.”

The cabin reached the peak of the Ferris wheel. We stopped there for a few minutes.

Joan leaned over to the window to look out at the bay, the MacArthur Causeway, and all the islands along the way. The bridge looked a lot longer from a view like this than when you actually drove across.

Joan raised a buttcheek as she leaned over to take in the view below, and then a loud PRRRUT emitted from her sphincter, short but bassy. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

“Ay, Dios! Perdoname!”

I knew by the tone in her voice that she was playing around. I was getting mighty horny, and then my stomach lurched as the Ferris wheel descended.

“This better not be one go-around,” I murmured. At $28, going on the wheel was a pretty steep price. I had better get my damn money’s worth with a woman like this.

Joan paused her flirtation as we passed by the ground. Once we ascended to the top, she rubbed her belly and then stifled a belch. The low rumble puffed up her cheeks. She moaned, then let off another closed-mouth belch. And another. They sounded like gurgling tremors. She patted her chest and said, “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten over me.”

She then leaned back and very slowly spread open her legs, put pretending as if it were nothing and she was just stretching.

She wasn’t wearing any panties. I smirked and shook my head.

“What?” she said, biting her lip innocently. “Is something wrong?”

Her next fart surprised me. It was a loud and long trumpet blast that sputtered at the end. She said, “Is that too much for you? Maybe you don’t like that sort of thing?”

“N-no! I do.”

She snickered. “Good then.”

Once we were approaching the top again, she got up and sat on my lap.

I actually got worried. My heartbeat quickened as I looked around making sure no other person in any cabin could see us. They wouldn’t put security cameras on this thing, would they? Well, if they did, the person watching would have one hell of a show.

“W-what are you doing?” I said.

“Nothing. I’m just sitting.”

She reached underneath and unzipped my shorts. My cock was already rock solid, so she had no trouble freeing it from my boxers. She lifted up her dress and slammed her pussy right on top of it.

We both shared ecstatic sighs, like we had been eagerly waiting this moment for a couple hours now. I honestly didn’t think I’d get to go again that day. I came so much when we fucked earlier in the day. But this woman really stirred something in me. I was locked and loaded again.

Between gasps, she said, “I feel…another fart…is that okay?”

I was on the verge of cumming, and had trouble responding.

“Is it okay?” she gasped.

“Y-yes.”

Her ass slammed on my lap at the perfect pace. I got to feel the full power of her ass on my lap. Honestly, even if she didn’t fart, I would have came. The enticement of such a dirty, public fucking was enough to make me squirt.

“I want…” she said, “your river of cum inside me….jodame!”

She stopped pumping me and let off the gnarliest fart I had ever heard. That shit was rancid as fuck. I caught whiff of a deep organic smell. The sound reverberated against the glass walls of the cabin, like you were in a bathroom.

“Fuuuuck,” she moaned. “That was the black beans. Augh! I feel like I lost ten pounds!”

The sound of her fart coupled with her expression of relief was what did it for me.

I moaned aloud and gripped the edges of my seat, then reached out and held her tight. I gripped her sides and then her thighs. She laughed, almost manically, as I came inside of her. She thrusted herself on me a few more times to really pump out every ounce of semen left in me.

“Jesus, Joan….” I said, eyes heavy.

“You didn’t last long this time,” she said, grinning.

Her thrusting made a squishing sound now. Hearing that satisfied the both of us.

I snapped out of my stupor when I realized we were descending, and almost close to the ground. I gasped and got her off of me. She cleared her throat and adjusted her hair. I took a couple more seconds to compose myself before zipping up and sitting up straight.

When we stopped, the attendant opened our cabin. Joan was about to get off when I whipped out a $30 in cash and handed it to him.

“Otra vez,” I said.

He stared at the cash for a split second, and then pocketed it without saying anything. He continued moving the cabins.

“Lucas?” Joan said, surprised. I loved surprising her. Joan tended to be the more dominant one, the go-getter. But I loved it when I could surprise her with dominance of my own.

I smirked. “It’s your turn.”

Joan gasped a little. For a moment she looked as shocked as though I was asking her to marry me. Her eyes widened and began to tear up. I cocked my head to the side, wondering if I did or said something wrong.

“Joan?” I said.

Joan appeared gentler than ever, which was…strange. Her smile was more genuine than ever, with her eyes creasing and her chuckle shaky. “Sorry. I just. Lucas. Are you sure?”

We ascended, and I bent down to approach her pussy. I opened her legs for her.

“You’re worth every dime.”