Dexterous Dexter 04

I had my standards. Not too young, not too old, and not too plain, although that last parameter could be waived if I was horny enough. I made sure that a shower (with actual hot water) was available, and that the girls and I used it. Clean sex is fun sex. And kissing makes the sex even more fun.

These girls are not very inhibited -- meaning, they took it anywhere with anyone. I had much fun. I made sure they did too. A happy fuck is a long juicy repeated fuck. Oh yes, half of the girls were named Maria.

You may be shocked at the prices. Remember, this was 1972, and those are 1972 dollars. A cheap pack of cigarettes in California cost a quarter then, half as much as a girl here. The OPEC embargo would soon drive USA gas prices to over a buck a gallon, more than an overnight girl. And the Mexican economy was such that even thirty years later, a tire repair might cost as much as three bucks. Living on the local economy was and remains pretty damn cheap.

I also did not pay the Gringo surcharge. Walk into any Mexican marketplace speaking Anglish or with a strong accent, and prices triple or more. I had swapped my California license plates for C.A. (Central America) tags back at Saltillo. With my well-tutored Guatemalan accent, thanks to years of love-talking with Rosalita, and my dark hair and eyes, I could fairly well pass as a big dumb hidalgo kid from Antigua Guatemala, a panza verde.

('Panza verde' means 'green belly' and refers to the vast quantity of avocados devoured by the residents of La Antigua, the world's guacamole center and the old cultural capitol of Central America.)

---

Besides being a power center, Xalapa is also a university town. That means students. Horny students.

I had just rolled into central Xalapa. I stopped at the little zocalo, the town plaza on a hilltop overlooking the city, and stabilized my loaded bike behind a concrete park bench. I got a big cup of lechero (creamy coffee) from a nearby vendor's stand and sat back on the bench to enjoy the view.

A couple of cute college girls walked past. They noticed my bike's C.A. plates. They sat flanking me on the bench and started chatting with me.

My impersonation of a panza verde did not last too long. Tall curvy Theresa was a local, and bought my act. Shorter thinner Inez had come all the way from Mexicali, Baja California Norte, to attend school here. She recognized my underlying accent. She spoke good San Diego-type Anglish.

"Hey dude, are you really from Guatemala? You sound pretty Californio to me," Inez said teasingly.

"Busted!" I admitted. "Yeah, I'm from around L.A. One of my girlfriends there is Guatemalan and she's been tutoring me for years." I ain't really a cowboy, I just bought the hat -- as the song goes.

"ONE of your girls? What, you got muchas tortas, many chicks up there?" Inez shook her lovely head.

"Well, I have a few really close friends, sure. But a gentleman doesn't discuss such private matters."

"Oh, so now you're a gentleman?" Theresa giggled.

"Yes, I am usually a very gentle person. See?"

I started massaging Theresa's shoulders through her thin blue tee. She was wearing an equally thin white barely-there bra. She tensed at first, then relaxed. Her nipples stiffened visibly. She started humming. I dug my fingers in deeper. She started swaying. I worked gently on the neck-and-shoulder junctures, those spots that greatly stimulate women when kissed or bitten or thumbed properly. She started moaning.

Theresa shook, and murmured, "Oh, oh, oh, ohhh..." and slumped into me, puddling.

Inez was stunned. "Holy fuck Theresa, did you just cum?" Theresa nodded slightly.

"What the fuck did you do to her, guy? Are you a fucking sorcerer or something?"

I shrugged. "I practice." Yeah, that's the secret of life: Practicar, practicar, practicar.

"Well, how about you practicar on me a little?" Inez turned toward me with an evil grin.

I repeated my sorcery on Inez. She took a little more effort and time to cum, but she did.

I sat back on the bench with girls nestled into me on both sides, arms around each other's waists, copping a few butt-feels. Passersby glared at us jealously. I smiled a small smile of calm satisfaction.

Life was good. And it would get better. Inez and Theresa shared a studio casita (garden apartment) with auburn-haired Loreta from Guadalajara. Loreta liked being massaged, and much more. I had little difficulty persuading these girls to slurp each other as well as me. We went through all the usual two- and three- and four-way contortions, and then some. I had a fun couple of days in Xalapa. Good food and coffee, too.

---

I stayed overnight in the funky beach resort village of Chachalacas (CHA-cha-LAW-kas) downhill from Xalapa on the Veracruz coast. I had just one girl at the posada that night. One girl was enough. THIS one girl. I met her in the nearly empty bar downstairs. A drink, a dance, then upstairs together.

She looked like an Aztec goddess, one of the most spectacularly beautiful women I have ever seen, a few years older than me, a few inches shorter with long clear black hair. She tasted incredibly good. I licked and kissed every round inch of her. She reciprocated. Her mouth was marvelous; feet and legs and pussy and belly and breasts were glorious. Her toes were tingly. I wanted to worship her supernatural presence.

Her name was Marina. That is a very significant name in Mexican history. Look it up. I asked why she was there. She said that this was how she had fun on vacation. Yes, a sex tourist!

I kissed her forehead, nose, her mouth lightly, her chin, neck, the valley between her superb breasts, her navel, her mons -- and then I slid down. She trembled. I worked my way up from her right side: toes, feet, splendid tight calves, sexy knees, magnificent thighs, her mons again -- and then down her left side, to her wriggling tingly toes. Then her left hand, sucking each finger carefully, and her strong lower and upper arms, her shoulder, scapula, neck again -- and down the right side, finishing at fingers. She was rubbing my head and body whenever I was within reach.

I kissed her mouth, not so lightly this time, deeper, passionate, my hands feeling her breasts, her hands around my back, digging in. I took my mouth to her breasts. She held my head and moaned. I think she came.

I teased down her belly, to her navel, her mons, her inner thighs. Then I stopped teasing. I dove into her luscious cunt. Slit licked. Labia slurped. Vagina violated. Clit sucked. And again.

I was brutal. I was determined to get as much juice and ecstasy as I could, as soon as possible. Marina screamed, and again, shaking like an epileptic, compressing my skull between her strong thighs. My tongue kept working until Marina finally pushed my head away.

"No more, no more, nada mas, wait a minute, yes..." she gasped, then caught her second wind.

Marina shoved me onto my back, straddled my hips, descended onto my stiff cock, impaled herself. We both groaned with palpable pleasure. Oh shit, her pussy was hot, fiery, a blazing tube of molten lava! She moved slowly at first, tits just waving slightly, thighs flexing. Then faster. My right hand clipped her nipples, the other brushed her clitoris. She yelled again, slowed down, then increased her pace until her next monstrous wet orgasm, when she collapsed on my chest. I was near, very near.

I rolled her over for a missionary lesson. I pounded her like a preacher. My sermon was short and sweet and sacred. My closing prayer was loud, HOT FUCKING DAMN!! She bit my nipples as I delivered my offering unto her holy of holies. The choir sang, our voices chanting hallelujah. The gods of sex smiled upon us.

We chatted when we were not fucking. She lived in Taxco, a silver-working town south of Mexico City. Her family's shop sold silver jewelry. Taxco is a very vertical place. She walked up and down hundreds of steep steps every day, liaising between her shop and banks and artisan's ateliers and other merchants. This exercise accounted for her superb body tone, but did not explain why she was such a divine person.

I told her my story, my real story, some of it anyway. My Los Angeles to Panama and back bike ride. My Guatemalan girlfriend and language coach. Some of my sexual incidents. My experience in a family business. My pals' and my own adventures and aspirations, if any. My and Wendy's escapades. Marina laughed a lot.

She gave me her address and phone info and told me to stop in Taxco on my ride back north. We kissed good-bye. Then we slurped good-bye. Then we fucked good-bye. I eventually rode off, dreaming.

---

I rode south from Veracruz into Los Tuxtlas, a small mountain cluster containing the world's northernmost tropical rainforest, and (reputedly) much magic, along with Mexico's oldest civilized culture.

Maria-Talia was another macaw girl, a two-macaw girl really, one on each nicely sculpted walnut shoulder of her tall, dark, beautiful body. I gave her and them a ride along a cliff-edge road overlooking the Gulf far below. She directed me to stop at a secluded scenic lookout. The macaws perched calmly on the bike's handlebars and stayed discreetly quiet while Maria-Talia and I got noisy and sweaty and happy.

"Hey Dextro, you fuck pretty good for a Guatemalan guy. You going back home now?" Maria-Talia lay back on the blanket we had spread out. Waves crashed on the rocks far below.

"Yeah, I'll stay in the old neighborhood for awhile," I prevaricated, "then go on to Panama before I head back to California for school." My head nestled between her generous breasts. Her long smooth toned legs wrapped around my back.

"What's in Panama for you?" She rubbed my shoulders as I nibbled her tasty tits.

"Family. Friends. And I've never been there." My tongue resumed circling her aureoles.

"Mmmm, that feel good. You got anything more to drink?" I reached for a bottle of cheap rum.

"So what do you do around here, beautiful lady? Besides improve the scenery."

She giggled. "This land we're on? This is my family's ranch. I help keep the books."

"Well, I hope your brothers don't ride up on horseback and find us like this."

She giggled again. "They're all in Veracruz this weekend, getting laid. They love big-city putas, whores."

She pushed my head down. "Go on, lick me again, I want to cum some more."

I resumed slurping her snatch. We fucked some more, then dressed, and I rode her and her macaws to the gate of her family hacienda. We agreed it would not be safe for me to come any closer.

I rode easterly along the southern edge of the Gulf of Mexico and into the Yucatan. I was in Maya country now. I was here for the ruins. I saw and climbed many pyramids, big and little, restored and decrepit. The national antiquities board owns these. Big restored pyramids attracted tourists like flies to pan dulces (sweet pastries). The little ruined sites were often more fun. The lone government caretaker was usually anxious to talk to the rare visitors. I enjoyed some of my best conversations in these remote places.

I stayed at Palenque and was absorbed by the pyramids there. This is an incredible place, the crown jewel of Mexican archeology, surrounded by dense jungle teeming with loud birds and bellowing howler monkeys.

On my second day at Maya Palenque, I climbed up the steep Temple of the Sun. I edged around to the backside of its peak, and found two girls, a blond and a redhead, sitting in the shade, gazing out into the boisterous jungle. They were maybe in their late twenties. They wore khaki cargo shorts and white expedition blouses that nicely displayed their toned legs and sumptuous curves. I was in my bike jeans and a tight Universidad de Xalapa tee that showed my runner's physique.

"Buenos dias, senoritas," I said politely, "com'sta?" How are you? (informal mode)

The blond looked a little panicked. "Er, my Spanish is very little," she stammered.

"Do you speak English then, nice ladies?" I asked with an exaggerated Mexican accent.

"Oh yes, thanks, it's good to talk to someone who can understand me. Are you local?"

"I'm from around Los Angeles, actually," I said, dropping back to my accustomed speech patterns. "I was just trying to blend in. I succeed sometimes. And from where have you beautiful girls descended?"

Blond ponytailed Daphne and cropped auburn Kate were vacationing from Toronto. They would have preferred a winter trip but their office schedules dictated otherwise. They had a rental car, and a few days left to see exotic sights and experience exotic sensations. They would stay in Palenque town tonight, then go on to Chichen Itza, then back to Cancun for some strapless tan-building sessions on the balmy beach.

"Would you like to see something really nifty?" They nodded. "Then follow me."

They took my offered hands as we climbed back down the vertiginous pyramid. I led them to a trail into the jungle that I had found the day before. The trail led up the neighboring hill, to a spot where we could look down onto most of the fabulous Maya Palenque complex and the landscape beyond, shading off to the Gulf coast many miles away.

I improvised cushions from a pile of very large leaves. We sat and beheld the stunning scene. I pulled my little bamboo sax from my waist pouch and played STRANGER ON THE SHORE.

Daphne leaned against me. "Thanks for bringing us up here. This is wonderful." She kissed my cheek.

Kate moved in on my other side. "Yes, thanks, and it's really good talking to you." Her lips nipped and tasted my face.

"The company couldn't be better," I said, pulling them both close and alternately kissing their mouths while I rubbed their backs, not abstractly.

I felt a hand stroke my growing hardon. "Yes, you do seem to like our company just fine," Kate teased.

I brushed my hand against Kate's ample breast. I felt her nervous nipple stiffen and grow. "And are we feeling rather friendly?"

Daphne placed my other hand on her smaller breast. "I'm so friendly, I'll have to change my panties soon."

Daphne pulled of her shirt. Ah, nothing underneath but nice soft female flesh. Kate stripped off her shirt too, and the pale pink halter-top she wore under it, with nothing else between her skin and the limpid jungle air. Kate pulled us both to her. Daphne and I each took one of Kate's juicy nipples in our mouths.

"Oh yeah, that feels nice. Jeez, keep going, keep going..."

I unsnapped Kate's cargo shorts and reached inside. I stroked her flat belly and inset navel and bushy pubes. She was commando, no panties, maybe the best option in this humid tropical climate. I felt Daphne's hand join mine between Kate's taut thighs.

Kate picked her butt off the ground. Daphne worked Kate's shorts down while I ran a finger along Kate's excited slit. Daphne's hand joined mine again. Together, we teased Kate's lips and red bush. Our mouths were still glued to Kate's tits. Kate gasped almost continuously.

I felt Daphne's finger slide into Kate's tunnel. Kate groaned loudly. I brushed Kate's clit and she moaned and twitched. I pressed down and twiddled her clit with my forefinger. Then Daphne twisted her hand around and apparently hit a sensitive spot. Kate exploded like an early Atlas booster rocket.

"Oh shit oh shit, fuck me fuck me, oh oh oh... AHHH!! OHHH!" she shouted and wailed. Luckily, a host of howler monkeys chose that moment to roar, drowning Kate's screams. Or maybe they roared in response to her cries. Cause, or effect? Whatever.

"You deserve more," I told Kate. I eased her backward and settled my face between her smooth firm thighs. My tongue devastated her eager pussy. She came again, and again, without too much effort. My face was wet with fluids that would seemingly never evaporate.

"You deserve even more thanks," Daphne said. "Now lose your pants." She tugged at my belt, then slid her own shorts and steaming wet panties off her legs, over her sports shoes. I pulled off my bike boots and stripped off my jeans, leaving me totally naked in the jungle. I pushed my legs out straight, my cock pointing to the sky. Daphne engulfed my cock with her mouth, slurped me very nicely, loading me with her natural lubricant. She straddled my hips and lowered her dripping cunt straight onto me. We groaned.

"Oh fuck Dexter, this is great, oohhh..." Daphne moaned. I bent forward to kiss one breast. Kate took Daphne's other tit into her mouth. What goes around, comes around, right?

"Spread the shirts on the ground behind Daphne," I told Kate. I pushed Daphne back into the missionary pose. I fucked Daphne. I fucked her good. She shoved against me. I kissed her mouth, hard. She bit my tongue, softly. I felt one of Kate's hands tweaking Daphne's nipples and the other strumming her clit. Daphne howled. The monkeys howled too. Ah, jungle sounds...

I kept fucking Daphne until she came again, and again. I finally squirted great gooey gobs of creamy life deep into her. We both convulsed, almost petit mal seizures, almost. Then, quiet.

We dressed, and walked around and up the rest of the ruins for the rest of the day. I rode my bike behind their rental car to their posada in Palenque town and parked next to them in the secure area. We strolled around town together, hand in hand, the girls frequently changing sides. We ate pollo asado and chiles rellenos on a restaurant balcony overlooking the town plaza, and drank Cuba Libres (cola and cheap rum).

We went to their posada room. We shoved their single beds together. We fucked most of the night. We slept late. We fucked again. We finally left after sweet goodbyes. I have an invitation, if I'm ever in Toronto.

*

NEXT: To Guatemala and Panama(?) and back.