Vamos! Day of the Fucking Dead

Author's note: The following incidents are probably mostly fictional. All sex involves living humans aged 18+. Themes include incestuous and bisexual groups and some supernatural horror. If you object, then stop reading. Views expressed are not necessarily the author's, who probably munged the descriptions of Mayan-Ladino spirituality. This is an entry in the 2014 Hallowe'en contest. If you like this, join the 1%ers and VOTE!

*****

Vamos! Day of the Fucking Dead
(Our family Hallowe'ens in Guatemala)

*****

Dad called a family meeting the day after Easter 2004.

We gathered around the dining table, each with a cold beer -- not quite legal for us kids, but who would bust us at home? Dad sat at the head of the table, as always, with Mom at his side. As the eldest, I had the foot of the table; the twins sat together opposite Mom. All in our usual spots, even in this unfamiliar dining room, in a new house, a new suburb.

Dad started us off.

"We have a decision to make, and since you're all involved, it's up for a vote. Here it is: You know we sold the old house for a good pile of money. There's lots left over after buying this new place. So the question is, what to do with the surplus?

"You kids have college funds already. You're already spending yours, Dixie; and Eddy and Fiona are set for their first years. Mom and I have talked about three options.

"One: We can invest it all, fatten-up the retirement nest-egg for me and your mom. That would be prudent, don't you agree?"

He looked at us with an expressionless face. We all nodded slightly. We did not look overjoyed.

"Two: We can make another sort of investment, one that boosts the property value here. How? We'll get a swimming pool installed, with a pool house, perfect for parties. That would be fun, right?"

He smiled now. So did we. Yes, summers here in Sacramento were hot enough to justify a pool. But we waited for Dad to drop the next shoe.

"Three: This is more complicated. I have a lot of vacation time saved, and I can extend that with a leave of absence. We can all take a trip -- a very long trip. Like, for an entire semester, and more. So Eddy and Fiona won't start junior college till January, and Dixie delays re-entry till then."

He looked at us blankly again.

I broke the silence with the obvious question. "And just where is this very long trip to, and how is it worth interrupting our education?"

The twins nodded. Mom smiled gently. Dad only grinned.

"To Central America. By car. A big new convertible. From the first of July all the way through to New Year's. With plenty of budget for buying souvenirs and eating well and seeing every damn thing that's worth seeing, including as many festivals and fiestas as possible. It's just too bad we can't take a year off, so we could see Easter in Guatemala. They're supposed to do it best."

Now we were all grinning and nodding and voicing assent.

"Wow, that sounds great!"

"Hey, lots of fun, yeah"

"A half-year vacation? Wow!"

"What kind of car?"

"But what about...?"

Dad broke in. "Yes, a whole half-year. Yes, a BIG car. I'm buying a 1964 Lincoln Continental, completely modernized. It's a white convertible with red upholstery -- a real eyeball-grabber, about the size of a small battleship. You want to see and be seen? There's nothing better!"

Eddy raised an obvious concern. "1964? You want to take a forty-year-old car across wild country?"

"Don't worry. It'll be just like a new car, only huge. It's got updated power train, suspension, climate control, sound and navigation electronics, safety, everything. You know Georges does custom limos. Not just new ones, but restorations of classics, too. That's what this is, a classic presidential-quality rebuild. And with bulletproof glass and kevlar shielding everywhere, just in case. Georges built this for an oil sheikh whose helicopter was shot down.

"Änd wild country? No, it's not like we'll be driving on burro tracks; there are good highways all the way to Panama. If the Darien had a road, I'd take a year off and drive us all the way to Tierra del Fuego. Now THAT would be a helluva trip!" Dad licked his lips.

"And I'd just love it," Mom said. "An adventure together! Oh well, I'll just have to get by with six months of you all."

Mom's blonde pageboy shimmered when she shook her head. An ironic smile touched her full lips. She looked happy.

I agreed to the trip but my enthusiasm was tempered a little by thoughts of my boyfriend, Russ. We got along well together... when we WERE together. Lately, he had been 'busy' a lot, too busy to bring me to screaming orgasms with his tongue often enough. Should I stay behind and try to make something with him, rebuild our relationship? Or was it time to say adios and move on?

I played my decision-making trick. I flipped a quarter -- heads I go, tails I stay -- and before the coin landed, I visualized which side I preferred. The coin and I agreed. Heads.

"Okay, I'm in," I announced.

"¡Vamos! Let's go!" the twins chorused.

"A formal vote," Dad said. "All in favor, raise hands." Seven eager hands rose into the air. The damn twins cheated and voted twice, each shaking all their fingers and thumbs at us. "All opposed." No hands, no talk; no surprise.

Dad slapped his palm on the table.

"The motion is carried. We have two and a half months to get ready. Plan carefully. Don't take too much -- the trunk is only so big, and we can buy clothes along the way as needed. Anything extra we buy, we'll just ship home. Any questions?"

The twins started babbling at once -- about what you would expect from high school seniors who had just turned eighteen.

"Can we take laptops? And new cameras?"

"Do we have to cut back on the prom?"

"And what about graduation parties and stuff?"

"Our friends will hate us! Do we have to come back?"

"Does the car have smuggling compartments?"

Dad roared with laughter. "All right, one at a time! You can expect some nice electronic graduation presents, with the name Sony all over everything. The prom budget is still the same. Yes, we've got to return... probably. This is where my job is. And don't even ask about smuggling. What, did we raise scofflaws?" He grinned at Mom.

I noticed that he had not really answered that last question. A tricky fellow was our Dad, yes indeed.

*****

First things first. We kids got passports; Mom and Dad already had theirs. We girls got birth-control pill prescription renewals, to keep our periods regular, right. We all got SPANISH MADE EASY guides and MP3s so we could learn to communicate better. And we got vaccination panels and WHO certificates.

Nothing was secret. Mom and Dad's workmates knew. Our friends knew. We were going on a grand adventure, and everyone else was Left Behind. Deal with it, suckers.

"Fuck, Dix, you're so lucky!" My BFF Tabitha squeaked as she painted henna designs on the backs of her hands. "You get to go away for, like, forever, and I've got to stick here, and work, and study, and all that shit. Call me, right?"

"You've got to get all the shots and pills you can, Dixie; no never know what diseases are loose down there," Aunt Charlene warned me. "And everything's so dirty." She was always paranoid about germs. "I just know something awful will happen." Charlene constantly had vivid dreams of disaster. She never hesitated to share her ominous forebodings.

"Ooh, you going to LOVE Guanajuato, and Zacatecas, and Guadalajara, and Xalapa, and Puebla, and Morelia, and Oaxaca," my science project partner Rosalita told me. "You going to love those Mexican boys, too. Muy caliente, very hot!"

"Woh babe, I'll sure miss you while you're gone," my supposed boyfriend Ross told me while he poked and prodded my beautiful boobs. "You're gonna be, like, till next year, huh? Oh wow! I'll try to hold on that long." He was holding on pretty tight already. Ouch. I had to reconsider my options.

"Ms Carson, you'll want to keep a journal," my English Comp instructor Ms Pitt told me. "Details are so easy to forget. If you don't write it down, it never happened. Photos and music aren't enough. They float by. Words make it real."

Everybody had advice. I followed Ms Pitt's advice and wrote it all down while ignoring most of it. It will seem pretty funny some day.

I was worked-up a month before we left, by excitement, and relief, and irreversible change. The end of school: finals and goodbyes. It was more definitive for the twins; they would never again see many kids they had known for so long. For some, that's sad. For others, it's Good Riddance.

The take-off day arrived. The car was fully packed and papered. We kids were stuffed into the wide back seat, almost like a living-room sofa. Dad and Mom had us put the convertible top up for the day's freeway driving. Good thing. I sure did not need to eat bugs and get wind- and sun-burnt as we sped down the Central Valley.

"Dibs on the middle," Eddy said.

"I'll sit behind Mom," Fiona chimed in.

Damn. Dad needed his seat pushed back to accommodate his long legs, so I got stuck in the smallest backseat space. I should be more assertive. Good thing it was a big car.

"We'll change places whenever we stop, and that's that," I announced.

"Do whatever you want," Mom said, "just be quiet -- no roughhousing, don't bother you dad's driving, don't bother me, don't bother anyone. Read, look around, sleep, play nice games, whatever. We'll be jammed together like this for a long time, so get used to it and play nice."

We played nice. We switched around. We did not fight. Much.

*****

"Here's the plan," Dad said around his mouthful of mush.

We lunched at Andersen's in Los Baños, famous for Danish pea soup -- not bad when fresh.

"Today we drive from Sacramento to San Diego. Tomorrow we'll layover there, see some sights, have a Friday night out. Saturday, we'll drive to Tucson. Sunday, the Fourth, we'll stay over and watch the fireworks. We go into Mexico on Monday. After that, it's a total improv. We'll do as much of our wish lists as we can."

Fiona looked up from her salad. "You've already told us this, Daddy. Got anything new?"

"Well, I think I have some new scrapes and scratches and bites from last night. Go easy on me, okay?" he teased Mom. She blushed.

"Too much information," I growled, and munched my Danish ham sandwich.

We rolled onward. The trip went well; it was great fun. I must tell you about it some time. But this story is about what happened after the first three months.

*****

Of course, a lot happened during the first three months. You don't need all the details -- those are for another story. But the synopsis is, everybody got laid, and the twins and I became friends. Really good friends.

It started in mountainous mile-high Hidalgo del Parral, Chihuahua, about two weeks into our trip.

Parral was once a major silver-mining town. Now, besides yet another Pancho Villa museum, they specialize in exquisite hand-tooled footwear, like the planet's most fabulous Western boots, and shoes to match the best Italian crafts. Strictly world-class stuff.

When folks first see you, you know how they look you up-and-down? Like with me; guys usually eyeball me with the tits-ankles-tits-face-tits scan. I'm pretty used to it.

But not in Parral. First place anyone looks is... down, at your feet. If your footwear is not acceptable, neither are you. Guys there looked at my Air Zooms and instantly dismissed me. I had to buy wild ostrich-hide cowgirl boots before guys would smile at me. Or maybe they smiled at my shapely calfs and not-too-knobby knees, hmm?

Anyway, there was a festival in town. Most rooms in hotels, motels, hostels and posadas were booked solid. Dad and Mom tried to get us connecting rooms or cheap suites with separate beds for Ed and Fi and me. Not here; not now. We did manage to get two non-adjacent rooms in one downtown hotel. Each room had only a king bed, and we were lucky there -- queens are the largest beds in most Mexican hostelries. But these rooms had no couches, so we three kids got to share one bed.

The time was late, only a couple hours till dawn, when we dragged ourselves in from doing the town. We had found side-by-side clubs, one for adultos, one for jóvenes, kids like us, with faster, louder, dirtier music. And sneakers were acceptable in the kids' club as long as they were clean Nikes.

Yeah, I danced with a bunch of guys; and dry-humped a few; and one guy, short, dark, and magnetic, even took me out back, and bent me over a car fender, and pushed my thong aside, and fucked me hard, fast and furious -- with a condom, of course. I am no dummy. He had more enthusiasm than technique. But it was fun.

We were all tired and sweaty when Mom and Dad came to collect us. They'd had fun, too -- probably less intimate fun that us kids. I saw the twins hot-dancing and disappearing with others -- they seemed entertained. I knew they carried condoms.

The night had to end. We crawled to our hotel rooms. The twins and I could barely wait for our turns in the shower. Or rather, they could barely wait, because I made sure I was in first. Seniority does have some benefits!

We slid into our usual nightwear and then into bed. Eddy took the middle, wearing his Speedos and a tired smile. Fiona and I wore tees, loose panties, and our own ambiguous expressions.

Even at over a mile elevation, the July night was pretty hot and the room A/C was pretty weak. I did not think our tees would last long, and I was right. Fiona's came off first after the light went out; mine soon followed. We sweated anyway.

Outside light crept dimly around the window curtains. I could see well enough.

Fiona leaned over Eddy to me. "Good-night, sis," she whispered, and kissed me lightly.

Then she turned to her twin and kissed him. Not lightly. Not briefly. Long and deep, and topless.

Pangs of... something... washed over me as I watched and felt them kiss. I felt myself getting wet. What were my siblings doing? How far would they go? How far would *I* go?

The answer came quickly, and so did Ed. I saw our sister slide his Speedos off and take his long cock into her mouth. Damn, was that hot! He groaned within a minute, and grunted not much afterward. Fuck, she had that down to a science!

Fi wiggled up and kissed me again, deep and wet, with tongue, a full tongue that pushed Ed's sperm into my mouth. She pulled back after a minute. "Good-night, sis," she whispered again, and rolled away to join Ed in sleep.

I listened to their soft snores. Was I frustrated? Did I frantically masturbate and soak the bed? What do you think!

*****

We were very good friends indeed, long before we reached Chiapas, and Guatemala beyond.

We settled into a pattern. At each posada or hotel, Mom and Dad got their room and we 'kids' had ours. In each town, we all spent our days together exploring as a connected family, and evenings separated in our age-appropriate clubs, and nights in whatever bed(s) seemed right. Mom and Dad did not seem to mind what we did as long as we caused no trouble, attracted no attention by the authorities. We 'kids' sometimes brought friends to our room. If Mom and Dad did also, they were discreet about it. So were we.

I learned much about my twin siblings, and myself, by the time we rolled over the Guatemala border on the Pan-American Highway. I learned we got along much better than we ever did at home -- less to fight over here. I learned we had similar sexual tastes -- omnivorous and polymorphously perverse. We learned to please each other, and how to train others to please us, singly or together. We had fun.

We also learned a lot of Spanish, real Spanish, street Spanish, not the high-school and language-tape lessons sort of formal Castilian or literary Spanish. Did you know Mexican Spanish has fifty-seven words for 'fuck''? Neither did we, at first.

*****

We drove into Guatemala up the long straight narrow canyon of a crocodile-laden river and landed in Huehuetenango (Hway-hway-ten-ANG-go) on a narrow plateau below craggy mountains. Gringos just call it Way-Way.

(Short language lesson: Tenango is a Nahuatl / Aztec suffix meaning "the place of". Gringotenango is where the gringos are. Quetzaltenango is where quetzal birds are. Huehuetenango is where the huehues are. Whatever huehues are. I dunno.)

I first heard of the place when I saw a dub of an old play by El Teatro Campesino called LAST TANGO IN HUEHUETENANGO. It made me think of other titles for plays or songs or stories:

Hot Spango in Quetzaltenango
Going Gulp-O in Acapulco
Feeling Shitty in Guatemala City
Chasing Sara In Guadalajara
Getting a Tan in the Yucutan
What the Hell in Cozumel
Lousy Vermin in Playa del Carmen

Yeah, those are all pretty lousy. So sue me.

We pulled into Way-Way late in the afternoon and found a posada not too far from the town plaza. It was clean, inexpensive, and our rooms were on different floors. The folks were upstairs. We 'kids' were down with the birds.

Like all decent layovers, this hostelry had secure parking. Dad rolled us through a narrow passageway to an inside yard lined with big cages filled with tropical birds: parrots, toucans, macaws, quetzals, I don't know what all. And they were loud. Ouch. They screeched at us as we hauled our luggage inside.

Our family walked through town. Mom picked an eatery from the LONELY PLANET guidebook. We had our usual sort of budget feast: spicy roasted chicken, marinated verduras (green veggies), beans and rice, all the little handmade maize corn tortillas (made by little hands) we could swallow, and gallons of fresh mulberry juice, all for around ten bucks American for the five of us.

We followed our after-dinner routine too, making sure our Nokia cellphones were charged before we headed to our age-appropriate entertainments. LONELY PLANET again guided the folks to enjoyment; we 'kids' just followed our noses.

We mixed with the localjovenes. We danced and chatted and sweated and kissed and danced more and finally, easily, enticed a few to our two-bed room. I found two cute guys, Jaime and Andreas; Eddy and Fiona brought a sweet young couple, Felipe and Constanza. We were all hot to trot.

Yes, everybody ate everybody, and all we girls were double-ended, and the sperm and condoms flowed like water. Just the usual fun.

Then it got weird.

I was hunched on Jaime sucking his tongue with his wrapped uncut cock in my pussy and Felipe's sheathed priest up my ass. Ed was missionary-fucking Constanza; next to them, on the same bed, Fi rode on Andreas, bouncing her tits in his face. We built to a crecendo. We all came simultaneously. Holy shit!

And a slow bolt of black energy flowed through everything. Winds howled; birds screamed; the Guatemalan kids' eyes glowed candy-apple green; the air felt heavy, hot, insane.

I levitated from the two cocks in me as if pulled away; I had a mental image of being picked up by the scruff of my neck. Eddy and Fiona also rose into the air. The Guatemalans shook and moaned as we gringos floated a yard above them.

The energy dissipated. We in the air descended -- not feather-slow, not gravity-fast, but somewhere in between, so we did not squash our guests when we landed.

Our guests were not reassured by our soft landings. The Guatemalans crossed themselves and made frantic hand gestures; they swore, and dressed hastily. Well, they were mostly dressed when they scrambled out the room door, muttering something about St Simón or Maximón or whatever.