Ron's Journal 05B

Armed soldiers stood on every street corner and midway down every block. I felt very safe from street crime. I wandered into many little shops and eateries and practiced my student Spanish with shopkeepers and their kids practicing their student English with me. Sometimes we practiced other tongues, too.

-----

I wandered the neighborhood around big sunken circular Insurgentes Plaza the day I left Norma's.

"Hello, how can I help you?" smiled the girl behind the counter of the small photography store.

"Hola, I need ten 36-shot rolls each of Panatomic, Plus-X, Tri-X, and Kodachrome, and four big shielded film mailers, por favor." It was time to mail my exposed film back home, not carry it around.

I completed the purchase, then reached in my bag for my two classic compact German cameras to reload. I had an ancient Nagel Retina for the B&W films, and a much newer Zeiss Ikon for color work. I loaded the Retina with slow almost-grainless Panatomic for some well-lit shots I had in mind.

"Wow, we don't see many cameras like those here! Where are you from? By the way, my name is Magdalena."

"Mucho gusto, Magdalena, I am Ron, and I'm mostly from California and New York. But I travel a lot."

"You do much photography? You must, with all the film you're buying."

"I've been photographing since I was a little kid. I just about grew up in my dad's darkroom. But I've only gotten really serious lately, like an old addiction that's snuck up on me. I'm mostly a guitarist."

"Oh, you're a musician? I'll tell you what, Ron, I'm just about to close the shop for lunch and siesta. Would you like something to eat, and maybe make some music? And you can tell us about your travels."

Us? Magdalena drew the blinds, flipped the sign from ABIERTO to CERRADO, and led me through a door in the back of the shop. We climbed stairs to the apartment above.

"Juanita! We have a guest!" Magdalena called out. "She's my sister. We run our parents' shop. They're in Cuernavaca for a few days. We can do what we want here," she confided.

Magdalena led me into a small kitchen where another girl was assembling sandwiches. I was introduced. We munched the tortas, and chatted, then adjourned to the parlor.

Magdalena was almost a foot shorter than my 6"5' elevation. Juanita was a few inches taller and bustier than her little sister. Both seemed in their early twenties, had oval faces, black eyes, almond skin, long black hair in ponytails, and bodies nicely displayed under loose white blouses and colorful short skirts. No bras were in evidence.

Yes, they could do what they wanted when their parents were away. What they wanted first was music, but that didn't last long. Getting naked was next, then slurping, then the usual. They helped each other, too.

"Hey little sister, this long loco gringo boy uses his fingers rather well on the charango and cuatro. And his mouth works pretty good on that harmonica, too. Let's see how he does with other instruments. Can you play my concha, Ron?"

Juanita pulled her skirt off and sat on the edge of the couch, her legs spread. No panties. I looked at her dark muff and exposed pink slit appraisingly. She reached down and spread her labia. A faint sheen of moisture was visible.

"Hmmm, that looks like it might be playable. But I'd better see if it's in tune."

I knelt between Juanita's legs and gently stroked her thighs inside and out. My hands circled her vulva. She purred.

"That doesn't sound quite at the right pitch. Let me tune you up a little."

I raised her arms and pulled her blouse over her head. She was naked before me. I massaged her firm breasts, boobs that needed no bra for support. She hummed louder. I ran the fingers of my right hand just outside her labia while brushing a nipple with my left hand.

"Still not quite in tune. Magdalena, help me fine-tune your sister, please."

Magdalena grinned, sat cross-legged beside Juanita, and smoothed her big sister's other breast. Juanita groaned a little.

"OK, I think you are at concert pitch. It's time to play a few notes."

I fingered Juanita's pussy more actively, circling faster, probing, avoiding her clit. I leaned forward and kissed her inner thighs, dragged my tongue around her mons, then licked up the length of her slit. She moaned louder.

"Yes, this is playing well. Now I'll perform a traditional melody."

I moved my right hand from Juanita's pussy, reached under Magdalena's short skirt, and cupped her mons. She groaned and sucked her sister's right breast. My tongue delved into Juanita's tunnel, licked her slit from taint to clit, circled her clit, probed her depths again. I explored Magdalena's pussy from top to bottom with my fingers. Both sisters groaned louder and gasped.

"Ah, stereo music, a sonata for two voices, excellent."

I intensified my efforts. Magdalena was frantically sucking Juanita's right tit and rapidly pinching and twisting her left nipple. My left hand fingered Juanita's slit while I sucked and tongue-strummed her clit. Juanita came hard, squealing and squirting and squirming violently. Juanita's cunt grabbed my two thrusting fingers. I bit her clit and she screamed again. Her fingers grasped my hair hard, pulling my face into her delta.

I kept attacking Juanita's vulva until she pushed my head away, "no, no, no more, no..." I gently licked, soothed, cooled her down. Then I turned my attention to Magdalena.

I spread Magdalena's legs, moved between her knees, licked her thighs. Juanita pulled Magdalena's blouse off over her head, kissed her mouth, handled her breasts. I drove my tongue around and into Magdalena's pussy. I felt her shaking just before she screamed into her sister's mouth. My face became even wetter.

"The first movement of the sonata, the allegro, went very well. Now for the second movement, the largo."

I pulled Juanita up and bent her over the couch arm. I entered her from behind. Long, slow strokes, in slow largo tempo. Just continuous stroking, a steady rhythm, no pounding, more like long pulsing. The sisters kissed, groaning.

"And now for the final movement, the presto. Trade places, girls. Juanita, put your pussy in Magdalena's mouth. Are you ready? ?Listo? Very good, muy bien. A-one-and-a-two-and-a..."

I pounded Magdalena's pussy, hard, fast, pulling her bouncy butt against my groin. She gripped Juanita's thighs as she hungrily slurped her big sister. Juanita twisted her own nipples and cried. Magdalena cried. I roared and spewed liters of love into her loins. I continued to pound even after Magdalena's clutching cunt had drained me dry.

I staggered back. My softening cock popped from Magdalena's cunt. I pushed the sisters apart and plopped between them on the couch. Magdalena pulled me towards her and softly licked my wet willie. I ran my hand over Juanita's crotch. Juanita crawled around and laid her head on my thigh, licking out at my cock, sharing slurps and kisses with her sister. We all dripped.

"Oh Ron, that was pretty nice. Are you doing anything tonight?" Magdalena asked.

"I was just kicked out of my room. I was going to find another room for tonight."

"Oooh, I'd like to have you again. Juanita, would it be OK for Ron to stay here?"

"Well, Mama and Papa won't be back for a few days. Yes, Ron, will you be our guest?"

"I would be honored, dear ladies. I need to clean up and retrieve my stuff from storage."

"Wait till after siesta time. We could all use a rest now, I think," Juanita said, just before she swallowed my cock again. Some time passed before we actually rested.

-----

Magdalena re-opened the shop. I returned with my rucksack and guitar. After closing time, Juanita made dinner; we ate, and made music, and sucked and fucked again, and again. Eventually, I slept in the middle of the bed the sisters shared.

I wandered the city the next few days. I saw museums and fortresses, great parks, intriguing architecture, archaeological sites. I experienced the cacophony of Plaza Garibaldi. Dozens of competing mariachi and ranchero bands. Kids spewing gasoline from their mouths, blowing flames. The gaudiest of prostitutes. I didn't need the latter, not when I had Magdalena and Juanita.

I glanced into a cantina down a side street and saw a big gringo at the end of the bar. He saw me and waved me in. He bought me some pulque -- hmmm, that's definitely an acquired taste. He said he was Bishop Bob of the Free Baptist Church and that pulque was a sacrament. He put his hands on my shoulders.

"In the name of God and all the angels, I hereby ordain you as a minister of the Lord! Hallelujah!"

Then he fell forward onto the bar. He snored and drooled. I left, but now I was officially Reverend Ron.

Sometimes I was back at the sisters' shop for siesta. Sometimes I was too far afield, and I just napped someplace comfortable or not at all. But I was back in their bed every night.

One night, we had another hot session on the couch. We exhausted ourselves. We lay sprawled, panting.

"That was quite amusing," said a contralto voice from the doorway. The sisters and I jumped.

"Tia Theresa, what are you doing here?" Magdalena cried, trying to conceal herself behind a couch cushion. Juanita and I didn't even bother to cover ourselves.

"Oh, I just thought I would see how my nieces are doing, all alone here. But you're not alone, are you? And you are certainly not bored. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Theresa was in her mid-thirties, maybe a decade older than I was, elegant in a tailored business suit that accentuated her splendid body. She was a little taller than Juanita, almost to my nose in her three-inch heels, with laughing black eyes, pursed red lips, prominent breasts, and a take-no-prisoners attitude.

I stood, naked. My deflated long cock nosed in her direction. I walked to Theresa and took her hand.

"Mucho gusto, miss Theresa, I am Ron, and you are beautiful."

Theresa looked at me, up and down. She laughed and started unbuttoning her jacket.

"Yes, I am beautiful, and you seem energetic. Let's let the girls rest."

She continued unbuttoning and removing clothes with one hand while she grabbed my stiffening cock with her other hand and led me to the girls' bedroom.

You want details? Sorry, it was a blur, a wet carnal blur. Sucking and fucking, right-side up and upside down and sideways and every which way. Theresa was very good at keeping me ramrod-stiff in her cunt, stiff enough for multiple orgasms for her, while keeping me from going over the edge. I was her sex toy. Maybe this was karmic revenge for the way I'd treated my first wife MariLyn.

Theresa sent me back to her nieces when she was done with me for the night. I lasted long enough to blast a load into Magdalena. I passed out on top of her. The efforts of all three women were needed to roll me off. I regained consciousness a few minutes later, covered with bodily secretions. Whew, what a smell!

Juanita and Magdalena dragged me up and shoved me into the shower with their Tia Theresa. We cleaned and dried each other. Juanita and Magdalena giggled and poured coffee for all of us. We drank naked.

"Girls, you caught a lively one here," Theresa said, fondling my now-limp cock. "My sister and your father will be back tomorrow. You can't keep him here. Ron, why don't you come stay at my place for a few days?"

"Will you still share him with us?" Magdalena asked. "We don't want to miss out on the fun."

They spoke and negotiated as if I wasn't there. I was just a piece of meat. Their conversations went a bit faster than I could follow, but I thought I heard Theresa talking about how her girlfriends would like me. I felt uneasy. I visualized myself chained to a bed in order to pleasure a cabal of MILFs.

And I'd had about enough of Mexico DF. I was nowhere near the end of my tourist visa, but I did need to get back stateside. I still had to arrange my enlistment.

I smiled and told Theresa, "I'll see you tomorrow." In the morning, I slipped out quietly with my guitar and rucksack and made my way to the central railroad station.

******************** 11C: Return to USA Babylon or whatever

The train ride to Arizona was fun. I rode first-class to Guadalajara. The seats were soft and the windows were sealed but air conditioning did not work. I rode second-class to Nogales. The seats were hard benches but the windows were open and moving air cooled us off. The car was full and boisterous and I was not the only guitarist aboard. We passed bottles of wine and mescal, made music, laughed, had a great time.

Mexico DF to Guadalajara was a mostly flat run across Mexico's high central plateau. Guadalajara to Tepic (near San Blas) was an amazing descent from a mile-and-a-half-high elevation down to sea level. The train coursed through a tropical jungle, almost Hawai'ian. Tepic northward to Mazatlan was fairly interesting, sometimes with jungle to the east and the Pacific Ocean to the west. North from Mazatlan to Nogales was mostly miserable, hot, dry, arid. At least second class had open windows for ventilation.

Vendors got on at one station, hawked their wares till the next station, then got off to ride back and try their luck again. Prices dropped as the turnaround neared. A kid tried to sell me a great handmade blanket for fifty bucks. Just before he got off, I bought it for four dollars.

Armed troops in khaki uniforms and black moustaches patrolled the passenger cars every now and then. The pair I saw seemed like a stereotypical joke. There was the tall skinny guy with bandoleros strung across each shoulder and big pistols holstered on each hip. His partner was short, fat -- and he carried a fucking Thompson sub-machine gun, yes a Tommy Gun, careless waving it around at all the passengers.

I had previously ridden in first-class with a group of gringo college kids from Portland on vacation. We got along well, especially auburn-haired hourglass-shaped Elaine and her blonde friend Liz. They shared a private compartment. I snuck back into first-class at night to visit them. They were very friendly. The beds in the compartment were rather small, but we managed.

I knelt naked on the floor, a blanket padding my knees. Elaine and Liz sat naked side-by-side on the small bed. They kissed furiously, their legs spread, Elaine's thigh quivering atop Liz's. I tongued Elaine's pussy for a few minutes. I moved to Liz's pussy, then back. Liz mouthed Elaine's generous breasts as Elaine neared her next climax. As Elaine spasm'd, Liz swallowed her loud moans.

Elaine leaned into Liz. I concentrated on Liz's vulva with my tongue and the fingers of one hand while I rubbed Elaine's thighs with my other hand. Elaine's hands were busy with Liz's breasts. Liz grabbed my hair and pushed my head deeper into her pussy. Liz came again, wetly, screaming into Elaine's mouth.

I scooted up and sat between the two women. Elaine bent to swallow my momentous member. Liz kissed my face and neck and then started slurping and tweaking my nipples. I lasted for almost five minutes before giving Elaine a protein blast. Elaine happily sucked me dry. She sat up, kissed Liz, kissed me.

We sprawled on the little berth with our legs hanging off the edge, our feet playing together, our thighs twitching. We kissed and slowly fondled. Elaine threw a blanket over us. We huddled together, chatted.

"We'll be juniors at Reed next semester, Ron. What are your plans?" Elaine asked, cupping my testicles.

"I went to San Francisco City College," I said, only slightly shading the truth, "then an electronics school. I'll work as a radio engineer to make money to go to university. I have a good prospect already." Yes, only slightly untruthful. I didn't expect Reed College students to sympathize with my military plans.

"What do you think are the most important things you've done with your lives so far, guys?" Liz queried.

Elaine pondered. "Probably working as a lifeguard. I know I've helped save a couple people."

I frowned. Had I actually done anything important yet? I equivocated. "Let me think about that for a minute. What about you, Liz? Have you done anything significant?"

"Well, what I felt best about, was when I climbed Mt Hood. That was a personal achievement. Nothing really important in a big-picture sort of way though. C'mon Ron, what's your big thing?"

"This is a tough question. Hmmm... I know I've done all sorts of petty shit, negative shit. I've probably caused more pain than joy. I haven't really saved anyone. Maybe what I've done that's most important is to have loved some poeple more than I've hurt them. Maybe it's learning not to be selfish. Yeah, that's been hard, but it's important, I think.

"Elaine, your lifeguarding is very important. I think helping other people is what's really important. One of my favorite sayings came from a guy who wrote about keeping tools and minds sharp. He said, SERVICE TO OUR FELLOW HUMANS IS THE RENT WE PAY FOR OUR SPACE THIS PLANET. I think he got that right. What I've done in the past isn't as important as what I'll do next, and for the rest of my life."

Elaine and Liz both kissed me. Liz said, "That's pretty profound." Elaine swallowed my cock again.

The train reached Nogales, the end of the line. I left the station and stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of cheap Mezcal Gusano, the kind with the worm. I lugged my gear to the USA border checkpoint. The customs man checked my passport, then told me to open my rucksack. The collapsed top hat was on top. He picked it up and asked, "What's this?"

I grinned, popped it open, and set it on my head. He scowled and waved me on. I couldn't make out his muttered comment, but it was probably similar to what the Mexican customs guy said a couple weeks earlier.

I thumbed to San Francisco and beyond, and enlisted in the US Army. But those tales are for other chapters.

NEXT: Almost the last hitch-hiking adventure, almost.