The following is a true story

In the year 1996 spring has come and with it came a new computer and mobile phone company in the city. My husband said to go to the interview.
I put on my high-heeled black shoes with a very short mini skirt with three buttons on the left thigh and a slit on the same side, a vest with a bareback, deeply low-cut in front, only with three buttons in front.

I looked in the mirror and said I should be hired, right? Still, something was missing. Aaaa….I found it. A small black bow tie around my neck. Now everything was perfect. I put on beautiful makeup and looked in the mirror again.

They must hire me what the hell I said. I took my fake fur coat but very elegant, long. I came out of the block of flats on the boulevard where a taxi was supposed to be waiting for me. I was waiting quietly on the sidewalk when a well-made man with muscles on him passed me and then stopped, smiled at me, and asked me if I have a lighter. He was brown with a black mustache and olive skin. The white shirt was unbuttoned at the chest and had a thick gold chain around its neck. He was a gypsy, but a gypsy who smelled nice was well built and could be seen to have money.

I searched my purse and found the lighter. I wanted to give it to him but he motioned for me to light his cigarette, which I did. He held my hand as I lit his cigarette and then pulled me lightly towards him and kissed me passionately on the mouth. His cigarette-free hand was tucked into my fur coat and he was stroking my bare back, I could feel his muscles in his shirt, his mouth seemed to be trying to eat me. I opened my mouth in surprise but in fact as an invitation for his tongue that penetrated deep into my throat. It was noon, it was people passing on the sidewalk.

An older woman walked past us and said, "You two are beautiful together."

A younger man whistled with admiration, and another older man said, "Fuck her, she's damn good."

When he stopped, he smiled at me with perfect, very white teeth. “You're a cookie”, he told me.


I smiled at him with all my teeth and I laughed. “I told you I was a little dumb at the time”.

“Where do you go so beautifully dressed”? I said I had an interview for a job as a secretary.

“I'll take you to the company”, he said. I got in the car, of course luxurious, and went to the interview.

On the way, he took care to caress my bare thigh. “I'm waiting for you, right? I invite you to a coffee after that”.

“Of course”, I answered. I was really stupid, wasn't I?

At the interview, everything went perfectly. The three men kept looking at my hips and my decollete all the time. They said at the end that the branch manager would call me.

I got out and got in the car of the muscular gypsy who was waiting for me with a wide smile on his face. I went to the neighbourhood where he lived, he said that there is a small and quiet bar with excellent coffee. On the way, I passed a concrete fence like a wall, full of graffiti. Behind the wall, you could see some unsanitary buildings as if they had been abandoned, but you could hear gypsy music and all kinds of noises as if it were a boiling hive.

“What's in there”? I asked.

“It's the gypsy ghetto, sugar. You'll see him one day if you want”. The muscular man told me.

“Aha, maybe” I answered laughing.

The bar was really small and chic. Inside the predominant colour was red. The coffee was really good. With a lot of rum in it. Then only rum. We drank together until he managed to get me really drunk. Did he take my fur coat on my arm and me on his waist and say I take you home?

“You're a sweet” I said.

On the way, we passed the concrete wall. It was already dark.

"Do you want to see what's on the wall?" He said.
“Yes, I want. Why did I say that”? Of course, I was too drunk to be rational.

We entered through a hole as wide as a gate. Children were playing, one about eight years old was hitting a wooden hammer in the wall, he pointed his finger at me. I chuckled like a fool. The buildings looked depressingly miserable, like after the war.

“Do people live here”? I asked even though it was obvious.

“Only gypsies”. My new friend answered.

He parked the car next to an apartment building that looks horrible.
I looked around curiously, and I was amazed at what I saw. The Cloth, I found out as his friends called him, deftly untied the three buttons on my vest, and the three on my skirt. He threw my clothes on the back seat next to my fur coat. He left the chair where I was sitting on and left me on my back.

“I want to see”, I revolted.

“Okay”, and he slipped into my place and put me on top of him.

He took off my panties and stuck me in the already steel dick. I didn't understand why the light was on in the car, anyone could see us. I started waltzing in his healthy cock and I didn't care about anything anymore. Alcohol had a decisive effect. I was just a drunken bitch dancing on a gypsy's cock in their ghetto. Nothing special, right? I raised my hands and put my palms on the roof of the car so that I could dig as deep as I could into the gypsy's cock. It was dark all around and I could see almost nothing but I could feel dozens of eyes looking at me and I got even more excited. I started to type pleasure as I spun in his cock. I heard clogged discussions around the car and I could saw some cigarette lights.

This bitch is gorgeous.

“Yes, it's made despite the cock”.

“She should stay here”.

“We'll talk to The Cloth to sell it to us”.

And I was more excited and I was dancing in the hard cock of The Cloth.
The door of the car opened and a giant gypsy took me from the car.

to be continued ....