Arranged Marriage-Casamento Arranjado
by
Little Dan
I am Seu (Don or Sir) Antonio Chaves Barcellos. I am
happily married to my beautiful wife of twenty-two years,
Dona Silvia Chaves Barcellos. We live on the grandest
fazenda (hacienda) in the whole district of Serra Mansa in a
remote part of the country of Brazil. Being Brazilians, our
natural language is a dialect of Portuguese, and though I am
struggling to tell you this story in a language other than
my own, I will from time to time feel it necessary to revert
to my mother tongue, and I will try to give you translations
in English or Spanish of whatever terms that I use.
Living in a place far distant from the rest of the country,
and indeed the world, our ways have never changed. We still
live in the manner that our ancestors lived their lives more
than a hundred years ago. We have no radios, we have no
televisions, we have no phones, we have no electricity---you
get the idea. And we have no automobiles. We still travel
from farm to farm and into town as our great-grandparents
traveled. In horse drawn carriages.
Our women still dress in the beautiful feminine garments
that ladies of old had worn. Floor length skirts and gowns.
And they carry beautiful multicolored parasols to protect
their delicate skin from the rays of the hot Brazilian sun.
The men in Serra Mansa dress as I do. In white silk suits
with vests. high leather boots, and white wide-brimmed
chapeus (sombreros, hats), and we wear a brightly colored
band tied around our shirt collars. I usually wear a red
tie.
My wife, Dona Silvia, and I are blessed with three beautiful
young daughters.
Ana, Sara and Maria. I can’t believe that my beautiful Ana
is already nineteen years old, while Sara is eighteen and
Maria, the youngest is about to celebrate her seventeenth
birthday, and there is a big festa (fiesta, party) planned.
We had invited all the other aristocratic families in the
area to be our guests at the fazenda for this grand
occasion, and they came from their own farms many miles away
in their horse-drawn vehicles to commemorate the occasion.
Our servants had been cooking for days many local
delicacies, which were being stored in the ice house, and
would be heated on the fire when the guests had all arrived.
My daughters were excited. They shimmered in waves of
perfume and lace. Dona Silvia wore her bright scarlet gown
with a matching ribbon in her hair, and her beautiful new
fan was a contrasting white. The three young girls had
gowns in different shades of pink, more modest than the red
their mother wore.
As the guests arrived, Dona Silvia and I greeted them at the
bottom of the garden. Then they walked around the garden
chatting with the other visitors, or sat on the comfortable
garden sofas we had provided. So many families I had not
seen for such a very long time. It was good to see all my
neighbors again. Perhaps Dona Silvia and I should not keep
to ourselves so much. They were coming with grown children
whom I had last seen as gangly teenagers. I hardly
recognized most of them.
Over sixty families were in the garden when the Alcantara
family arrived. “Seu Antonio. Dona Silvia,” said Seu
Claudio bowing to us at the gate. How nice of you to invite
us. You remember my wife, Dona Helena?” Dona Helena greeted
us, and kissed Dona Silvia on the cheek. “And this is my
son, Jose. Do you remember Jose?”
I turned toward Jose, and I froze where I was standing.
There before me stood a tall slender twenty-one year old
young man. The most beautiful young man I had ever seen in
my life. His shocking straight black hair and eyelashes
contrasted with the palest whitest skin I had ever
contemplated. The texture of his skin was like a sheet of
fine writing paper, smooth and delicate. His black eyes
twinkled, and his gaze almost seemed seductive. Pity any
young woman who would look into those eyes. She was lost.
I took Jose’s hand and shook it, and suddenly realized that
the palm of my own hand had become sweaty.
“Jose,” I smiled, patting him on the back. “The last time I
saw you, you were a skinny gangly fifteen year old. Unruly
and none too clean. And look at you now. In your beautiful
white silk suit, and green tie. Every hair in place.
Cleanly shaved. I can hardly believe my eyes. I wouldn’t
have recognized you.”
Jose laughed and beamed his smile on me, displaying his
dazzling perfect even teeth. “Don Antonio, I must say that
you haven’t changed a bit. You’re exactly as a remember
you. The tallest man in all of Serra Mansa, with the same
curly black hair, and bigode (moustache) and barbado
(beard). He was right. I hadn’t changed. My hair hadn’t
yet turned grey, and I had curly black hair all over my face
and my body, on my powerful long arms and legs, on my chest,
on my bottom. I looked again at that magnificent boy and a
thought flashed into my head.
“Come. You must meet my daughters. You must meet my oldest
girl, my beautiful Ana.” I led him across the garden where
I saw Ana chatting with some school friends and introduced
them. His eyes admired my beautiful slim porcelain skinned
daughter. Thank goodness all my girl’s took after their
petite, delicate mother, and not after their big-boned hairy
father. She looked at him and immediately her eyes melted.
Of course. They would be perfect together. I would have to
talk to Seu Claudio.
You see in our district, as I told you, everything is like
the olden days. A young man and a young woman don’t decide
to get married. Everything is left to the parents. We
practice the ‘casamento arranjado’. The arranged wedding.
My daughter was nineteen now and I should have already been
thinking of this. But fortunately, I had done nothing---
because now I had found the perfect husband for Ana, and the
perfect son-in-law for Dona Silvia and myself---the handsome
young Jose, son of a fine wealthy family, the Alcantaras.
“You’ll excuse me,” I said to Jose, bowing. “I must borrow
Ana for a moment. You stay here and talk to these nice
young people.” He nodded his head. “Ana, please come with
me.” I took Ana by the hand and made my way across the
garden to where Seu Claudio and Dona Helena were standing as
they chatted with another couple.
“Seu Claudio, Dona Helena. May I present to you my eldest
daughter, Ana.”
Dona Helena took Ana’s small hand. “I’m so happy to meet
you, my dear.”
“Ana, this is Seu Claudio and Dona Helena. The mother and
father of Jose, the young man you just met.”
“And I’m very happy to meet you,” said Ana. “Muito Feliz.”
“Seu Antonio,” said Dona Helena. “Your daughter is just
charming.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I have three charming daughters. But
Ana is my eldest. And she is lovely isn’t she?”
“You certainly are, my dear,” said Seu Claudio taking her
hand and bringing it to his lips where he kissed it.
“Seu Antonio, you must come visit us at our fazenda very
soon with Dona Silvia and Ana and your two younger
daughters. We would be so happy to have you.”
“What a lovely thought, Dona Helena,” I answered. “We would
be most happy to.”
“Would next Saturday be all right?” asked Dona Helena.
“It would,” I answered, knowing that Dona Silvia would have
nothing else planned. We didn’t have a busy social life.
We preferred to stay at home with the family.
“Then, it’s settled,” pronounced Dona Helena. Please come
around two and stay for dinner. We’ll dine at seven.”
“That would be perfect,” I bowed again and taking Ana by the
hand brought her back to the young people and Jose.
Afterwards, I returned to Dona Silvia who was greeting the
last few guests by the gate.
On Saturday we left the house a little after one. Everyone
was dressed as for a formal occasion. Nothing had been said
to Ana, but it was fairly obvious that she was not entirely
unaware of the purpose of our visit to the Alcantaras. I
dare say she would not be unhappy if I were able to arrange
a casamento between her and the handsome young Jose with
those searing eyes.
Dona Silvia sat beside me in the carriage, and I took the
reigns and guided the three majestic horses, Branco, Preto,
and Castanho. Ana, Sara and Maria sat behind us in the back
seat, their hands primly folded.
“What a lovely day,” observed Ana, looking out the window at
the beautiful lush countryside as we drove along.
“Is it very far, pai? Sara asked me. (pai is Portuguese for
father. Pai. Not Pau. Pau is Portuguese for the male sexual
organ, so one must be careful in speaking and spelling).
“The Alcantara fazenda lies to the west, just about an
hour’s distance from our own.” I looked around and smiled
at Sara. She smiled back at me. She was just as lovely as
her sister. And so was Maria. I was a lucky man. I would
always be grateful to my father and to Seu Diego, Dona
Silvia’s father, for my own casamento arranjado twenty-two
years ago. Yes. I was indeed a lucky man.
When we got to the Alcantara fazenda, the servants helped
Dona Silvia and the three girls down from the vehicle. I
stepped down myself. Seu Claudio was there to greet me and
take my hand. He threw an embracing arm around my wide
shoulders.
“Seu Antonio. How wonderful it is to have you here,” Seu
Claudio said bowing.
My wife and daughters spent the afternoon in the garden with
Dona Helena, while Don Claudio and young Jose took me on a
tour of their vast and beautiful fazenda (second only to my
own). If Jose and Ana didn’t want a place just for
themselves, there was certainly a lot of room for them on
the Alcantara fazenda—or even on mine, for that matter. I
would certainly love to have them with me always.
Seu Claudio had even more cattle and horses than I, if that
were possible. And there were acres and acres of fields
planted with vegetables, bananas and other fruits and nuts;
and surrounding them were vast forests of coffee trees. It
was an idyllic landscape.
We had a lovely two-family dinner. I couldn’t help noticing
the furtive looks exchanged between Jose and Ana. I
chuckled to myself. Of course he would want Ana. She was
like a beautiful living doll. And as for Jose. Just to
look in those burning fiery eyes would be too much for any
woman. I had never seen such a penetrating gaze. When he
fixed his smoldering eyes on you, you almost flushed from
embarrassment after a moment or two, and had to look away.
After dinner we had banana cake, and fine Brazilian coffee.
The ladies in their long dresses retired to the drawing
room, along with young Jose. Seu Claudio and I went into
his study, where he offered me an excellent cigar, which I
gladly accepted. The two of us lit up as we sat in two
facing armchairs.
“You probably realize, Seu Claudio,” I said, “that my Ana
and your Jose might make a good couple.”
“I knew that’s what you were thinking, Seu Antonio. I must
say, your daughter, Ana is a great beauty. And she seems
like a well-educated, properly-brought-up young woman as
well.
“As is your son, Jose,” I answered. “I remember him as
being a wild unruly boy. And now I see a fine, well-
mannered, handsome youth.”
“Yes, he was a little wild in his younger years,” Seu
Claudio admitted, nodding his head. “But he’s really shaped
up very nicely. He’s warm, kind, caring, affectionate,
everything I could ever ask for in a son.”
“How wonderful to hear you say that,” I said. “It reassures
me a great deal.”
“And, of course, you don’t have to worry about his
prospects. I have only one child. When I die, Jose will
inherit everything. This whole great fazenda will be his.”
“I see. That is comforting to know. Perhaps we should
arranjar um casamento (arrange a wedding),” I suggested none
too subtly.
“I would be most happy to have Seu Antonio as my son’s sogro
(father-in law).”
“And I would be overjoyed to have you, Seu Claudio as my
daughter’s sogro. But, of course, I would want to spend a
week with Jose first to make sure he is proper husband
material, and would be a good partner for my Ana.”
“Of course, Seu Antonio. That is always how arrangements
proceed in our part of the world. Where and when would you
like to meet with Jose?”
“I was thinking that next Friday we could drive off to my
mountain home. I have one servant there, my old Marta, who
would be able to minister to our needs. She lives in a
small cabin in the back all year long, just awaiting our
visits.”
“I know where your mountain home is located. Such a
picturesque location. To look out at the beautiful snow
peaks from your windows. I know Jose will be thrilled to be
there. When would you return?” he asked.
“I think the following Friday. And if all goes well and
everything is agreed to, we can post the bans on the
following Sunday.”
“Wonderful,” he puffed deeply on his cigar. “I’m very
excited,” he said.
“As am I,” I assured him.
“But be gentle with my boy, when you begin your instructions
on marital relationships.”
“I will be very gentle,” I assured him.
In our part of the world, it fell to the sogro to make sure
his daughter’s husband would be a gentle, loving mate. The
sogro would explain to the young man all the ways to love
and to please a young woman. This was a duty handed down
from generation to generation, from sogro to sogro. Every
man knew what would be expected of him. The women? I think
they viewed it as like an interview for a business position.
But casamento was a lifetime commitment. A lot more than a
job. The week I would spend with young Jose would be
crucial. If he should fail in any way, I would certainly
not allow a casamento arranjado to proceed.
I remained seated in the study, puffing on my cigar, while
Seu Claudio went into the drawing room to find Jose and
bring him back. Jose entered the room, and Seu Claudio
motioned for him to sit in a third chair. Seu Claudio
closed the door of the study, and the three of us sat facing
each other. I could tell Jose was a little anxious.
“We’ve been discussing the possibility of a casamento
arranjado between you and Seu Antonio’s beautiful daughter,
Ana,” said Seu Claudio.
Jose nodded thoughtfully. “I thought that perhaps you
were,” he said.
“What would you say to that?” asked his father. He
certainly would never go against his dear son’s wishes.
“I think Ana is the most beautiful, gracious young lady I
have ever seen. I would be deeply honored to be her
husband, if I am allowed to be,” Jose said passionately
fixing me with his scorching desperate gaze.
“Seu Antonio has suggested that perhaps you and he could go
away for a week or so to his mountain home, so that he could
get to know you a little better, and reassure himself
regarding what kind of a husband you would be to his beloved
daughter,” explained Seu Claudio.
“I understand perfectly,” said Jose. “He only wants the
best for his daughter. And I hope that I am the best for
her. I would be most happy to accompany Seu Antonio to his
mountain home, for whatever length of time he deems
necessary to make his determination. And I hope that I will
be chosen.”
“I like your son, Seu Claudio,” I pronounced. “Never has a
young man spoken more beautifully to his sogro. Jose. I
am proposing that we leave for the mountains next Friday. I
will pick you up in my small one horse carriage around two
in the afternoon,”
“I will be ready and anxiously awaiting you,” said Jose,
bowing his head.
We left the study and returned to the drawing room for more
coffee. We explained to the women what had transpired, and
that Seu Claudio and I had thought it fit to arrange a
casamento arranjado, and that the following Friday Jose and
I would be going to the mountain home for a while, where I
could best evaluate his character, before posting the bans.
A small smile twinkled at the corner of Ana’s mouth. She
was delighted. She looked at her sisters and they both gave
her broad happy smiles. Dona Silvia just nodded her head.
She was not surprised. She knew me too well. She had
already presumed that I was considering young Jose as a son-
in-law.
A half hour later they brought my carriage around, and we
drove back to our own fazenda. On the way home, I decided
that I would use Castanho, the brown one, to pull the one-
horse carriage on Friday. He was a strong brave horse.
That night I held Dona Silvia in my arms and we made warm
pleasurable love. I still enjoyed feeling the walls of her
vagina closing around my pau which was still, even now,
after all these years, and after three children, a little
too big for her. But once she accustomed herself, she
always enjoyed our lovemaking, and responded passionately,
throwing her legs around me and making throaty sounds, and
crying sim, sim, sim. (yes, yes yes.) We could be proud of
the way we had raised our daughters. All three of them.
The next Friday I had Castanho attached to the small
carriage, and drove off to pick up Jose. He was ready with
a small suitcase packed. The personal things he would need
for a week’s stay in the mountains. He was gleaming in his
freshly pressed white suit with which his jet black hair and
long eyelashes contrasted brilliantly. He climbed into the
seat next to me and we drove off, with Seu Claudio and Dona
Helena waving good-bye.
The drive took several hours, and we chatted about family
and local affairs. Marta heard the carriage in the distance
and was ready to greet us when we pulled up to the front
door. She welcomed us into the house and brought Castanho
around to the stable. She returned and busied herself in
the kitchen preparing a grand meal, which would probably not
be ready before nine. Yes. If we had telephones in our
district, I could have warned her of my arrival in advance,
but even so, I knew she would manage. She had been managing
for years.
We sat across a small table at dinnertime. Marta had placed
a vase of long stemmed red roses in the center of the table,
as I had instructed her to, to promote an air of romance.
After an excellent meal we climbed the long wide staircase
up to the second floor of the lodge, and I escorted Jose
into the master bedroom, and showed him the luxurious wide
bed with the silk sheets and pillow cases.
“We shall sleep in here, Jose,” I announced gesturing toward
the bed.
“It’s very beautiful, Seu Antonio. It seems most
comfortable.”
“We will be very comfortable in this bed. Can you imagine
what this evening is going to be like?” I asked him.
“My father gave me some idea,” he answered. “And I am
prepared. No. Not prepared. I am looking forward to it
with intense anticipation.” He fixed his piercing black
eyes on me and I became almost week in the knees.
“This will be like a rehearsal for your wedding night. So
that when that night comes, you will do nothing wrong.
There will be no faux pas committed which could come between
you and Ana in the coming years.”
“I understand,” he said. “I’m anxious to learn. Please
feel free to teach me everything, because, as you probably
have guessed, I have had absolutely no experience in affairs
of amor (love).
“In a week, you will leave this room a veritable Casanova.
I promise you.”
Seu Antonio. I am so grateful that you are taking your time
to advise me in affairs of the heart,” he said modestly.
“Now. Let us retire to the matrimonial bed,” I suggested,
as I loosened my tie and began to unbutton my shirt. Jose
followed my actions. I sat down on the side of the big bed
and asked Jose to pull off my tall boots for me. He knelt
on the floor and gently eased off both boots, and then I did
the same for him. Eventually we both took our trousers off
and stood there in our cuecas (underpants).
He was peludo (hairy). A soft black matting covered the
white flesh of his arms and legs, and he had tufts of wiry
black hair on his well-muscled chest. His back, though, was
fairly smooth. He was assessing me as well. Looking at my
own body full of curly black hair: arms, legs, chest, and
yes even my back.
“When we are in our marriage bed,” I explained, “We shall
address each other as meu amor (my love),”
“Sim, meu amor,” he answered. He was way ahead of me.
We both lowered our cuecas and stepped out of them, I stood
there completely nude now, my heavy balls dangling under my
long thick pau. I looked across at Jose. His pau was also
very long and very thick. How wonderful for my Ana. She
would enjoy the husband I had picked for her. I noticed
that Jose’s pau was getting even longer and thicker as he
stared in fascination at my own.
“Come, meu amor. Let us get into our bed,” I invited him.
I climbed in and slid over, giving him room to move in
beside me, which he did. I could feel his warm thighs
against my own, and my own pau was starting to engorge with
blood and stiffen.
I put my great arm around his shoulders and pressed him to
me. With my other hand, I touched his chin and turned his
face towards mine. “The first lesson must be to learn how
to kiss a young woman properly. Do you have any idea how
this is done?”
“I have only a very general idea. I would need to be taught
the finer points,” he admitted.
“Very well, meu amor. I shall teach you how to kiss,” and
with that I placed my lips on his and began what was to be a
long passionate kiss. He lay in my arms, receptive to all
my intentions. I sucked at his sweet young lips, and then I
eased my tongue inside his mouth. He gasped with pleasure.
I began to lick at his teeth and tongue. He sucked on my
tongue and then plunged his own tongue into my mouth where I
sucked on the delicious morsel. “Oh, meu amor, meu amor,”
he moaned, thrashing in my arms. His pau had stiffened out
like a coffee tree trunk, but at the top of the tree was not
green foliage, but an angry red knob, leaking liquid. I
took hold of his trunk tenderly as I continued to kiss his
demanding mouth, and his body kept thrashing in desire on
the bed. He slid his beautiful nadegas (asscheeks) back and
forth on the cool, shiny silk sheets.
“Meu amor,” I breathed. “My beautiful husband. What can I
do to make my husband happy?” He just wrapped his fingers
in my curly hair and continued sucking my mouth. I eased
my lips away from him and moved down on the bed, holding his
treetrunk in my hand. I bent over him and eased my lips
over the angry knob, and then I swept my tongue around it.
“Ayayay,” he screamed, and again wrapped his fingers in my
curls, but now he was working my mouth around his pau. “Oh,
meu amor. What are you doing to me? What are you doing to
me? Don’t stop. Don’t stop. I love it. I love you, meu
amor. Suck on my pau, Ayyyy, that’s so nice, so nice. You
are really pleasing your husband. Your husband loves this.”
He was in seventh heaven.
I felt around his balls as I sucked, which drove him into an
even higher heaven. I began to stroke the smooth area of
skin between the bottoms of his balls, and his cu (ass). As
I sucked, I tenderly began massaging the firm yet pliant
spheres of his bottom. What nadegas! Then I gulped each
bola (ball) and bathed it in the warmth of my mouth, His ass
continued to roll around the sheets like crazy. He was
tremendously responsive and passionate. My Ana was going to
have a lot of years of pleasure with this boy. He would
just have to guide her in how to please him, and he was now
discovering everything that pleased him.
I lowered my mouth to the tight puckered ring of flesh
between his nadegas and lapped at it. He was going crazy. I
couldn’t wait to see his reaction when next I pressed my
hard now-pointed tongue at that spot and felt it entering
his hot cu (ass).
“Meu amor. Meu amor,” he screamed, twisting the silk sheets
in his hands and crushing them. “Ay, meu amor. You know
how to please your husband. Sim. Sim.”
He was thrashing so much that my tongue was slipping out of
his cu, and running over the insides of his hard hairy
nadegas, which I continued manipulating. Finally, I sank
back on the pillows breathing raggedly. “Now it is your
turn, meu amor. It is your turn to please your Ana.”
Sim, my Ana, meu amor. He crawled between my legs and
looked into my eyes, not quite sure what to do next. I
doubled my legs so that my ankles were touching my nadegas
and lifted my rabo (ass) slightly off the bed.
“You must kiss your novia’s (fiancee’s) beautiful tight
xaninha (yes-that’s right—pretty little cunt.) He lowered
his head and began to give my own cuzinho (pretty little
asshole) the same delight that I had given his. But I was
not a novice being driven out of his mind by his first taste
of pleasure. I contained myself. I did not thrash all
around the bed. But I was still enjoying it a lot.
Naturally, this was a pleasure that Dona Silvia did not care
to offer me, so I was enjoying myself to the utmost. “Ay,
sim, meu amor, E muito bom. (It’s very good.) Get my
buceta (cunt) ready for your big thick red pica (prick).
I let him lubricate me a little while longer, than I raised
my rabo as an invitation. “Sim, meu amor. Agora (now) I
want your pica inside my cuzinho (dear little ass). Put it
in me, meu amor.”
“Sim,” he breathed in great anticipation and moved up over
me, placing my legs over his strong shoulders, and he
brought the questing tip of his pica into contact with my
puckered ring. I reached around behind his body and cupped
his nadegas in my strong hands, as I guided him slowly
forward. I felt the hard pica moving through the tight ring
and down my long hungry asshole. This was another pleasure
that I did not enjoy in my marital relationship with Dona
Silvia. This was feeling so good. “Fode me (fuck me), meu
amor, I cried.
“Sim, sim, meu amor. I am fucking you. Fudendo. Fudendo.
Fudendo, (fucking, fucking, fucking,” he crowed.
I threw my legs around his nadegas and held him deep within
my body as he vibrated back and forth, stirring up the porra
(cum, load) that would soon pour out. “Ay, sim, sim,” he
laughed hysterically moving his big pica up and down inside
my ticklish asshole, meu cu. “Never have I felt anything
like this. I have always dreamed of one day putting my pica
inside a deep dark hole which would close itself around my
flesh and suckle the sweet white juices from my balls. What
a xaninha you have, meu amor. Fode me. Fode me. I can feel
my porra building in my balls, and soon you are going to
have it, meu amor. It is going to flood into your hot tight
bucetinha (sweet little cunt). Ayyyyy. Ayyyyyy. Ayyyyyyy.”
He was screaming and breathing like a steam engine on top of
me as he plugged away and brought himself to completion.
His sweet sweat was dripping down on my face and body. Meu
amor’s sweet sweat.
“I’m coming,” he screamed, and I worked my cu hole around
his frantically stabbing pau, trying to help him work the
porra out. And then it began to shoot out. Then more shot
out. Then more shot out. I think there were ten volleys of
hot porra which had flooded into my happy womb. Jose’s
precious baby juice. The juice that would soon give me my
grandchildren, when he pumped a similar copious load into my
Ana’s sweet bucetinha.
He collapsed on top of my chest, and wrapped his strong arms
around my back. I continued to cuddle him in my arms and
long legs. All still wrapped around him, as he tried to
regain a normal rate of breathing. I ran my hands tenderly
around his back and nadegas. Patting him. Fondling him.
“Ay, meu amor. You were so wonderful. You are such a
wonderful lover.”
“I am?” he asked, needing more reassurance. I laughed.
“There has never been a husband like you. What a pica. What
a technique. Que belo menino! What a beautiful boy!”
He lowered his mouth to mine and we kissed again. This time
more in gratitude and satisfaction than in excitement and
anticipation. My sweet boy. I had never had a son. But
now it was as if I had my own son. My beautiful handsome
son. Meu filho (my son). Meu filinho. My sweet little son
(the affectionate form).
I reached over and blew out the kerosene lamp next to the
bed and pulled the covers over us. Jose lay face up on the
pillows at my side. As we dozed off into sleep, he cuddled
closer and pressed his face against my shoulder. Finally I
turned around so that we were facing, and let him rest his
head against my chest until morning.
The next morning Marta made us breakfast, and we sat in the
library reading novels, and looking through the big picture
window at the mountainscape across the valley. We decided
to take a picnic lunch and hike the mountain paths in the
fresh outdoors. Marta packed a nice box lunch and I
carried a blanket for us to sit on while we ate.
The woods were glorious. The trees were in full foliage and
the birds chattered flying from one branch to another. A
little after noon we decided we were hungry and found a
scenic spot to roll out the blanket and have our lunch.
After we had eaten, we lay down and looked up at the vast
blue sky beyond the treetops. The birds were singing now.
Suddenly I felt a gentle hand touching my left nadega. I
smiled. Jose was feeling horny. His touching became more
and more needful.
“Meu amor,” he said. “My pica is so hard. My pica needs to
hide itself in your tight hot bucetinha (again, if you
forgot, sweet little pussy).
“Sim, meu amor,” I answered, my own pica rising. I
unclasped my belt and began to roll my pants and my cuecas
down my legs, not pulling them off entirely, but letting
them bunch around my ankles. I turned over on my tummy,
letting my balloon-like firm hairy naldegas face the sky. I
pulled them apart, so that the rays of sunshine could warm
my little cuzinho. Jose was lowering his own pants and
cuecas to his ankles, and raising his shirt so that his big
pica had free access. He climbed on top of me. He spit
quite a bit of saliva into his hand and coated his pica with
it. Then he bent down and spit several times into the hole,
which I was holding open. I could feel the liquid dripping
into my anxious cuzinho. I was ready. I wanted that big
pica in me now. “Agora (now), meu amor. Stick it into me.”
I raised my ass higher to give him a good clear easy shot.
He hit it on the first try and was inside me. I felt the
head breaking through my tight muscle and sinking down in my
black tunnel. “Uunnngggghhh.” What a feeling. I’d better
enjoy this now, because it would be a long time before I got
it again. “Fode me! Fode me!” I screamed, pressing my ass
back against the scratchy hair around his pica and feeling
his large juicy balls slapping against my thighs and
nadegas. Oh, delicious. Delicious boy. (Que delicia. Que
delicia.)
Again I felt his spectacular climax building, and I reached
under myself and began jacking my own cock, as he fucked
into me. We were both screeching with joy. This time as
ten gushes of cum splattered into me, I felt my own load
scorching out through my tickling tube onto the picnic
blanket. “AAAyyyyy!” we both screamed. I would have to
sneak this blanket into the wash before Marta saw it.
I fondly remembered my own experiences as a young groom. My
parents had seen my Silvia and fell immediately in love with
her. They approached her parents , Seu Diego, and Dona
Gloria, and before long a casamento was arranjado. My
father explained to me that Seu Diego would be taking me
away to his cabin in the woods for a week, to instruct me in
the ways of being a proper husband to his lovely daughter.
I knew what to expect and I was even looking forward to it.
Seu Diego was a strong handsome man. I had always respected
and admired him. And now that he was to be my sogro. Well.
What more could a young man ask for? And Silvia had always
been the love of my life. I had always secretly prayed that
she would be the one chosen for me. I had even made several
daring hints to my parents, which they could have ignored,
if they had not agreed with me that Silvia was indeed the
girl for me.
Seu Diego picked me up in his horse wagon and we drove out
into the woods to his cabin. There was no maid. We would
have to do for ourselves. Once there, we gathered wood, and
I helped Seu Diego build a roaring fire in the big
fireplace. The flames flickered in our faces, as we ate the
meat we had just roasted in that fire. After dinner, Seu
Diego led me to the big bedroom with the large double bed,
and we undressed. I was much thinner then than I am now. I
looked more like Jose in those times. Seu Diego was the big
powerful full-grown man that I one day hoped to become. His
beard and fully body hair glowed in the lamplight from the
kerosene lamp. We both got into the big bed, and he turned
to me and enfolded me in his mighty arms. I felt like a
little boy again. I rested my head on his powerful chest.
“Suck on my titties, meu amor. Make your Silvia feel good.
Make your Silvia feel like an adored woman.” I pressed my
mouth over his hairy male nipple, and began to lick and
suck. “Ay, sim, meu amor,” he said. “That is so good.
Keep sucking on my titties. Don’t forget the other one.” I
moved my head to the other side to make sure they both got
equal attention. Then he moved down on the bed and began
sucking on my raging hard-on, moving his liquid mouth up and
down on it, creating a fierce suction. It was incredible.
Nothing like this had ever happened to me. He licked my
balls sloppily, enjoying them. First the left, then the
right, then the left, then the right. Then the crevice
between the two balls. Then he moved lower and licked the
flesh between my balls and my cu, and he was giving me
little wet bites on each nadega. I felt my little cuzinho
quivering around his tongue. This continued for about a
half hour. He was a devoted instructor. He wanted to make
sure I had the whole technique down before we moved along to
something else. Finally, he moved away and lay on his
stomach next to me with his prominent twin orbs facing up.
“Have you ever fucked a bucetinha (dear little pussy)” he
asked me.
“No,” I admitted.
“Well, move down on the bed and get my bucetinha nice and
wet with your tongue, and then get some spit on your hand
and make your pica nice and wet. And when it’s good and
hard, ease it slowly and easily into my bucetinha.
I did as he said, and felt my long hot cock entering his
clinging asshole. Ayyy. This was wonderful. Never had I
felt anything like this. I had always wanted a hot tunnel
to surround my pulsating pica, and cling to it, and suck on
it, and treasure it. And now I had Seu Diego’s cuzinho.
And after that I would have Silvia’s bucetinha for the rest
of my life. I had it made.
“”Ay, meu amor,” groaned Seu Diego passionately, moving his
ass against and around my big pau, “You fuck so
beautifully. It’s hard to believe you never fucked before.
Your are a natural. A natural fucker. Ayyy. Sim. Fode me!
Fode me!” I complied with his command and fucked him like a
trooper. I loved the wet splatting sound of my hips hitting
his fleshy nadegas. I closed my eyes and just listened to
the music of the slaps, and the music of his sighs, and then
I knew I was going to shoot out my porra into his hungry
bucetinha. “ Aaayyyyy.” I yelled, and so did he, and I
blasted my baby seed into his gut.
“I can feel my grandchildren swimming around in my cuzinho,”
he smiled, moving his ass around my softening cock. “ After
this week, no one but my beautiful Silvia can ever have that
wonderful pica inside her. It belongs to her and to her
alone. But this week, it is mine to train. It is mine to
enjoy, and I shall make the most of it, meu filinho ( my
dear little son).”
Seu Diego and I spent a wonderful romantic week together,
and he instructed me in all the ways of amor. How to make a
woman feel wonderful. He told me I was making him feel
wonderful. Like a woman feels wonderful when her man makes
love to her, and strokes her everywhere with his big pica.
I ground my bolas (balls) against Seu Diego’s nadegas many
times that beautiful week. And when we returned to town,
the bans were posted, and Silvia and I were wed.
We moved into my family fazenda, which became mine on the
death of my father. A couple of years after we were
married, Silvia’s belly began to swell. My hot white seed
had been planted in Silvia’s fertile soil. And we had our
first child. Our beautiful daughter, Ana, who would soon be
the wife of this handsome man lying next to me, the
magnificent young bull, Jose. The birth of Sara soon
followed. And then Maria. I had always hoped that we would
have a son, but that was not to be. Maria was our last.
But now I finally had a son, if not by birth, than by
marriage. Jose was now my dear filinho. I moved my lips to
Jose’s and kissed him wantonly. I think he figured that I
wanted another fuck, and I did, so he lay on his back and
moved me to a sitting position over his stiff-again pica. I
eased myself down onto it with no trouble since my cuzinho
was still wet from our last fuck. I raised and lowered
myself lovingly on his hard rod, enjoying the feel of it
running up and down my inner alley. “Meu amor,” I gasped.
“You are splitting me in half.”
“No. Now you are splitting yourself in half with my pica,”
he joked. We both laughed and I continued to fuck myself up
and down on his hard pole. “Que delicia. Que delicia. Ay,
mey amor,” I murmered and began stroking my own hard cock as
he scratched my itchy ass tunnel with his long thick
straight ass-scratcher.
He was starting to breathe heavily again and raising his
bottom high to pound his knob into my hole. I rose and sat
and rose and sat as fast as I possibly could, squeezing
myself down on him, trying to work his hot porra into my
thirsty asshole. Then he made some indescribable throaty
sounds, which meant the blast was coming—and then more hot
spurts of leite (milk) coated my rectal walls. “Oh, how Ana
is going to love this fantastic pica,” I cried. “And from
next week on, it will be hers for the rest of her life. No
one else can ever have this wonderful pica except my Ana,” I
told him. “But this week, it is mine to exercise and teach.
And we will have another lesson as soon as your pica rests,”
I assured him.
We packed up the picnic basket, folded the soiled blanket,
and began walking back to the house. The rest of the week
went in a similar fashion, and I must admit that it was one
of the best weeks of my entire life. To have nothing to do
all day, but lie there and be fucked. What kind of a great
life is that? Why couldn’t that kind of thing last forever?
The last night before we were to return home, we were lying
naked in the big bed, and I turned to Jose. “You have one
more lesson to learn,” I told him.
He was surprised and looked at me questioningly.
“You still don’t know how it feels to be fucked. How the
woman is going to feel with your big pica deep inside her
bucetinha. You have to experience that before you can
really be a first-class husband.” He nodded.
“I would like to learn that,” he said. “I would like to
have your big pica inside me and know what it feels like.
To know what the woman is feeling.”
I kissed him. Then I turned him over on his stomach and
crawled down, and wetly kissed his hot hole. Got gobs of
spit up into it. Then I got spit all over my hard pau, and
began pushing it into his hole. He groaned, so I eased back
a moment. Then I pressed forward again and felt the head
squeezing through the tight elastic band. I pressed
forward, until I was lying flat on top of him. He started
exercising his ass around my pica, taking the measurement of
it, savoring the feeling of penetration. “Oh, I like it,
Seu Antonio,” he groaned. “It feels so good. It feels so--
filling. So this is what my Ana is going to feel when I
stick my big pica into her little bucetinha. Oh. It feels
so great, I almost envy her. I think maybe it feels even
better to be a woman than to be a man. “ He continued to
twist his tight ass around my dick. And did that ever feel
soooo good. Dona Silvia’s bucetinha was still very tight,
but this was more like a suction machine. This machine
under me was actively pumping away, pulling on my long spout
to get the hot leite (milk) out of me.
“Aayyy,” shoot your leite into my bucetina, pai,” He yelled,
raising his neck and twisting it around crazily and he
raised his ass into me. “Ayyy. Give it to me. My pussy
wants to drink your leite. Feed me. Feed me.” He sounded
out of his head and desperate. And that incomparable
feeling was building up in my loins as I pounded down into
his perfect cu. My male udder was about to expel its sweet
cream. My leite was coming. He was going to get my leite.
He was going to get my leite. Ayyy. Sim. Now he was
getting my leite. One squirt. Now a second. Now a third.
Two or three more small expulsions and I fell exhausted on
his slender back.
“Ay, sim, pai,” he said softly, moving his nadegas gently,
treasuring the liquid feeding my softening pica had just
given his thirsty cu. “Meu pai. Meu pai. Te amo (I love
you),” he said. And I loved him also. But from Friday on
he could be no more than my filinho. He was Ana’s and his
pica would be Ana’s for the rest of their lives. My loss.
Her gain. But I was glad to do this for my daughter.
That’s how much I loved her.
When we returned from the mountains, I drove him to the
family fazenda and told Seu Claudio that he had passed the
test with flying colors. He had succeeded beyond my wildest
imagination. Seu Claudio was absolutely thrilled at my
news, and we hurried into town to post the bans.
A big wedding was planned for September. Dona Silvia and I
would host an enormous wedding party at our fazenda. In the
meantime Jose would drive over in his small wagon every
evening and court my beautiful daughter. I would see them
on the front porch. Her eyes were glowing. And then he
would fix me with those piercing dark eyes of his, and I
felt shivers go through me. I knew what he was thinking. I
knew what he was remembering. And so was I. I would
remember it always. Meu Jose. Meu belo (handsome) Jose.
After the ceremony in the living room, we all headed out
into the vast gardens. Ana, in her white gown, holding her
wedding flowers which she tossed to her sister, Sara. Dona
Silvia and I smiled at each other. A job well done.
All the guests were drinking champagne and chatting with
each other in the garden. Across the lawn I spotted Seu
Jorge and his wife Dona Flora. The Costa Martins family. I
hadn’t seen them for several years. It was a disgrace that
I didn’t visit my neighbors more often. With them was a
tall handsome young blonde man. Then I remembered that they
had had a son. Pedro. A fat, really unattractive little
boy, who had blonde hair, and fat rosy cheeks. He had been
short and porcine looking. Like a little piglet. I had
always been repelled when I saw him. This tall handsome,
dazzling blonde god just couldn’t be Pedro, I thought.
There was no way.
I approached Seu Jorge and Dona Flora. “Seu Antonio,” said
Dona Flora. We haven’t seen you for such a long time. How
kind of you to invite us to your daughter’s wedding. Many
felicitations.”
“Thank you, Dona Flora,” I said. “Dona Silvia and I are so
glad that you could come.”
Dona Flora reached out her hand and wrapped it around the
arm of the dazzling tall handsome blonde man with shattering
icy blue eyes, firm square chin, sculptured jaw, and
glittering smile. “Do you remember our son, Pedro?” she
asked.
I was dumbfounded. This was Pedro. How could that
disgusting, repuslive little short blonde boy have turned
into this dazzling god? My tongue dried up in my mouth. I
unglued it and said not too clearly, “Very happy to see you
again, my boy.” And I grabbed his hand and shook it.
I stood there talking to Seu Jorge and Dona Flora for five
or ten minutes, probably not making too much sense, as my
attention was diverted to the face and body of their
incredible son. He was now tall and massive. In his tight
pants, I could see just how powerful his long legs were,
pressing against the smooth material. His firm, fleshy young
nadegas were straining against the white silk. They were so
pronounced that the cloth actually sank into the crack
between those two large protuberances, and your attention
was almost forced onto the delicious hidden cuzinho. And in
the front you could actually trace the outline of his
flaccid but long, thick, commanding pica
“What’s that, Dona Flora?” I asked. I had completely not
heard what she had just said. I felt that my face was
flushed.
“The ceremony was beautiful. And I don’t remember when I’ve
seen such a lavish banquet as you are providing in your lush
garden.”
“Thank you so much, Dona Flora,” I said. “Pedro. Why don’t
you come with me, my boy. There’s someone I’d like to
introduce you to.” I took his arm and we crossed the garden
to where I had seen my beautiful Sara talking to a group of
her friends.
“Pedro. I’d like to introduce you to my very beautiful
daughter, Sara.” He bowed his head to her. I could see
that she was taken with him, and that he was not entirely
unaffected by her charms.
“Sara. This is Pedro Costa Martins. His father and mother
are old friends of ours.”
“How do you do,” said Sara, and they took each other’s hand.
“Excuse me. I must see to some things.” I excused myself
and left them together. I busied myself running around the
garden seeing to all the guests, making sure that their
champagne glasses were always full, and that they had plenty
to eat. Finally it was time for Jose and Ana to leave for
the mountain house and their honeymoon. Marta would take
good care of them. And they would look at the peaks, and
walk along the mountain trails, or just stay up in the
bedroom and fuck, fuck, fuck. What a wonderful time it was
going to be for my Ana. For the very first time, getting
fucked by that handsome boy.
Before they went out the gate to the wagon, Ana kissed me on
both cheeks. “Pai,” she murmered. “Filha (daughter),” I
answered. Then Jose kissed me on both cheeks. “Sogro,” he
murmered. “Filho,” I answered. They said their goodbyes
and kissed Dona Silvia, and then Seu Claudio, and then Dona
Helena. Then they climbed into the wagon, and Jose took the
reigns, and they drove off. Dona Silvia and Dona Helena
were crying. Seu Claudio was laughing joyously. I was
laughing on the outside and crying on the inside, envious of
the many great fuckings my beautiful daughter was going to
experience with that gorgeous young man. I shook my head
sadly. Another chapter in my life had closed.
Then I looked up and there was my lovely daughter, Sara,
with that dazzling young blonde god, Pedro. Son of my old
friends, Seu Jorge and Dona Flora. I was still reminiscing
about my beautiful filinho, Jose, but here was this
unbelievable looking paragon of masculinity with those large
jiggling but yet firm nadegas. I looked at them in
wonderment, my mouth becoming dry once again. I took Sara
and Pedro by the hand and brought them over to Seu Jorge and
Dona Flora and introduced my daughter Sara to my old
friends. They studied her with admiration. A little later
they proposed that Dona Silvia and I, along with our two
unmarried daughter come for dinner the following week. I
looked at Pedro’s breathtaking nadegas one more time, and
nodded my head in anticipation. My mouth was no longer dry.
It was salivating. Soon I would have another new son-in-law
to train. I was certain of that. There would be another
arranged marriage. Another casamento arranjado. And my pica
was already twitching in anticipation inside my tight white
silk pants.