Social Security Numbers

Wanting to be sure I could get a parking space and not have to wait in a long line, I quickly grabbed up my paperwork, hopped into my car and hurried down to the Social Security Office. The early morning traffic was light and I pulled into an empty space a full thirty minutes before they opened. I grabbed my papers, locked up my car and walked up to the front door.

Even that early there were about ten people in front of me so I slipped into line and waited. Fortunately the morning was cool and there wasn't much humidity in the air, so I was comfortable standing there. As the line continued to build, I looked over the variety of people in line immediately noticing my pale complexion had me marked in a definite minority that morning.

Before I could really work out any geo-political reasoning behind the multiracial group waiting outside the building the front door opened and we slowly filed in. Two women in uniform efficiently worked the large group of people into chairs and continued herding the extras to one side of the room as two other women quickly passed out numbers. The best I could tell, it looked like my plan to get there early worked out nicely as my number put me about eleventh in line. If everything went well I'd be out of there and back into work before anyone noticed I was gone.

Two numbers were quickly called and the people hopped up and headed to windows. I watched them walk up to their windows and then settle into their chairs. Only then did I glance back at the people standing against the back wall, waiting for a place to sit.

Just as I heard two more numbers called I couldn't help but notice an attractive Hispanic woman standing in line. While most of the other people there were in pretty beat up clothes, torn jeans and dirty tee shirts, she was wearing a very stylish yellow blouse with an expensive pair of designer jeans. I guess I stared at her a bit too long because I noticed her quickly swivel her hips and then begin walking right at me.

I immediately looked away but she continued walking in my direction and before I knew it she was standing in front of me. "Don't you try and look away like that, I saw you staring at me. Tell me, what you staring at?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Of course you meant to stare. Now why are you staring?"

"It's just that what you're wearing, it's so much nicer than..."

"What I'm wearing... what I'm wearing?" She reached down, grabbed my hand and pulled me up saying, "Look, you come over here and talk to me."

Not wanting to create any more of a scene, I stood up and followed her. When we were off to the side near a long hallway she stopped and turned. I found myself gazing into her dark eyes, unable to keep from appreciating her light brown skin and curly black hair.

"There you go again staring. Now don't you lie to me," she said in stern whisper. She grabbed the front of my shirt and hissed, "Tell me you don't want to fuck me."

"Excuse me," I replied.

"Come on, tell the truth, you're like every white guy in there. You want to fuck me, not a soft fuck like you would do your girlfriend or wife, no you want to fuck me hard."

"No, I just..."

Still holding my shirt, she began walking, pulling me along behind her. I followed as she shoved open the mens room door, drug me past two men standing at the urinals and pushed me into one of the stalls. Locking the door, she moved her hand to my crotch and finding my cock, worked it slowly until I got hard.

Tilting her head to the right she whispered, "See."

I shrugged, not sure what to do.

"Well, today's your lucky day. All you have to do is give me your ticket and I'll give you mine."

I quickly handed her my ticket and then watched as she shoved hers into my shirt pocket. She then reached down, unfastened her jeans and pushed them down to the floor. Stepping out of them, she leaned over, placed her hands on the toilet seat and spread her legs.

She turned her head back to me and said, "There you go, come fuck this chica hard."

Her tight little ass was incredible. Her dark skin was just slightly lighter along her bikini line and as I reached out and ran man hand over the skin it felt so smooth. Unfastening my pants, I let them fall to the floor and as I leaned forward I let my cock rub over her ass. She then reached up, took firm hold of me and while pulling her pussy lips apart with one hand, she guided me into her with the other.

She was surprising wet already so my cock slipped in easily. Pushing deep, I watched as my pubic hair pressed against her ass. Savoring the feeling, I slowly backed out and then pushed in once again, feeling her wet warmth envelop me.

Suddenly I felt her wiggle her ass as she hissed impatiently, "Come on, fuck me hard gringo."

I reached out, took firm hold of her hips and eased backwards until I nearly slipped out of her. With my fingers squeezing her hips I pulled her back to me as I thrust forward, feeling and hearing our bodies slap together. I felt my balls bounce off her pussy as I quickly withdrew and plunged into her again.

Well, any hope of holding out for her, perhaps making her come quickly slipped from my mind as we crashed together again and again. I mean just the thought of fucking such a beautiful, tight Latina was such a fantasy for me, but wow to actually have it happen, to actually feel her pussy around me, to squeeze her ass, to hear her telling me to fuck her hard was more than I could take. I felt my balls tighten and then the pleasure jolted up my cock as I arched my back and came, spurting my cum deep into her Latina pussy.

"Damn, damn, damn that was good," I moaned holding her tight against me. She remained bent over until my cock slipped from her.

"There you go," she said as she turned and pulled up her panties and jeans. "Next time you stare at a Latina you'll know just how good we really are." She then reached up, pinched my cheeks, gave me a quick kiss on the mouth and walked out of the stall.

I pulled on my pants and got myself straightened up before following her out of the bathroom and then up the hall into the waiting area. No sooner than I stepped into the large room I heard my old number called out. I then stared as she walked slowly up to the front and disappeared through an open door.

Finding an empty seat, I sat down and then pulled the number she gave me out of my shirt pocket. "Damn," I whispered, doing the quick math and figuring I now was something like number one hundred twenty in line. Shaking my head I looked over the crowd of people in front of me. I then turned to look at some of the people behind me in line.

Suddenly this attractive black woman gave me a look and called out, "What you looking at white boy?"

I jerked my head around and looked at the floor, wondering what was going to happen now. After a few moments I could hear her heels clicking on the hard floor as she walked toward me.