1. Culture Shock


    Date: 2/22/2016, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, First Time, Latina, Male/Teen Female, Teen, Virginity, Author: DaSpark, Rating: 92.9, Source: sexstories.com

    ​ When the wheels touched down and I felt the bump, I knew I was back home. Back with the rules and regulations and norms that had not been a part of my life for the last 18 months. I was just coming back from Guatemala, where I had spent most of my time with a group of people who were frighteningly poor, decedents of the Inca, and whom observed a very different culture. After the experience, I had awoken a beast inside me I didn't know was there before, and I hoped I could keep the beast at bay for the rest of my days . . . . I hoped. I worried about if before I got off the plane as I saw a young teen Hispanic girl with her family. She must have been early high school age, decently developed, great skin. Just seeing her I felt my cock beginning to engorge. She wasn't available or offered to me, but after spending so much time in a culture that acted so different, it was hard to turn my mind back off of the most primal evolutionary urges that had been unlocked. As I stood in the aisle of the plane, I watched her jet black hair reflecting the pale lights of the plane. That young, robust, healthy female . . . it made me think back to how it all got started. I am 41, a photographer, about 5 foot 9, dark brown hair and hazed eyes, mostly Portuguese heritage. I had a very normal middle class up bringing, dated a bit in high school but was always a bit of a nerd so not much happened till college. I met my wife in freshman year and we married three years later. We decided when we ...
    were 27 that we should have kids. She ended up being unable to conceive children, and though it was not that important to me, it was to her, and it seemed to make her feel like less of a woman. Long sad story made short, she fell into depression and the next 13 years were an emotional roller coaster. I was often out on assignment for one nature magazine or another, and when I would return home I often wanted to leave again. Sex had become a painful reminder to her that she could never carry a child or be a nurturer. So sex was rare, crying and moodiness were common. Then 2 years ago I got the call I had dreaded. I was informed that my wife had slit her wrists in the bathtub, and I needed to come home. I was pulled out of memory lane as the line of the plane started to move. We exited the vehicle and once inside the tarmac it was brutal. First I watched the young Hispanic girl and her family walking away. She already had heft to her breasts and her shorts showed her tanned and brown skin, so soft and fresh. She wasn't really all that pretty, but the hunger to spread my seed seemed to care of nothing but volume and fertility. As I rode the automatic walkway I noticed almost every young woman on the way. They all looked so tantalizing and tasty after what had happened. Again I worried I would not be able to cage the beast. My mind drifted again when I got on the intra-terminal tram. After I came home and buried my wife I myself got depressed for a bit. We were not much for lovers ...
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