Chapter 36: _ Fuckable Rosario
Luis’s Point Of View~
After fucking the hell out of Rosario, I wiped the memory of our exploding sex off of her head. The trick was always in the details.
A flick of my wrist, a subtle rush of energy, and her mind was wiped clean—like a chalkboard after a rainstorm.
Rosario, poor poor Rosario, sat there on the floor with her skirt still slightly askew, her head lolling to the side. She looked like a drunk toddler who’d had one too many bottles of milk.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. The climax turned out even better than I had expected.
Turns out angry sex was the best after all. I zipped my zipper, enjoying the view of her fucked body.
I wheeled myself back into position, slumping into my chair as if gravity itself hated me. The illusion had to be perfect. Pathetic Luis, the crippled cousin – the man who couldn’t stand or move and had no hope.
Rosario stirred after a while, blinking her large, doe-like eyes.
She groaned softly, her hand pressing to her forehead. "Ay, Dios mío," she muttered, her voice groggy, "I must’ve fallen asleep again."
Oh, Rosario. Sweet, oblivious Rosario.
She adjusted her blouse, fumbling with the buttons I had so kindly left intact. The floral print shifted as she tugged it down over her curves, and I could see the faint blush creeping up her neck.