Dexterous Dexter 06

I raised my body on my knees, my cock dangling. I rolled Marina on her back and blatantly stuck my head between her thighs, my chest diagonal across her belly. Marina raised and spread her legs. Celia scooted under my crotch and slurped my cock. I was happy with these preliminaries. Follow-ups were even better.

We had a great few days. But I could not stay, and she could not leave. It was fun while it lasted.

Marina and Celia were not my only Taxco acquaintances. Daniel was a lanky guy, born in Taxco, raised in Texas. He said that learning Spanish was easy because he grew up with Spanglish. He had worked as a phone company tech for twenty years and retired early when he inherited his family's vertical Taxco house, at the arch next to the parrochia.

Daniel married cute Rosita, a local cook. She ran the house's downstairs café. His sister Anna ran a gift shop in front of the café. Olive-skinned Daniel mostly sat around drinking mucho cervesa (lots of beer) and supervising the busy womenfolk's work, his black eyes peering down his aquiline nose.

Rosita's Café attracted the gringo expat community. The tables were usually filled with wanderers and fugitives sucking coffee or beer and swapping tips on avoiding trouble and responsibility.

"There's no problem in Mexico that a good bribe won't cure," said effeminate George from Atlanta, sipping his good Chiapas coffee laced with Mitla mescal.

Burly bear Greg from Montana saluted with his Corona bottle, "Fuckin'-A, bro. Play and pay. Down here, an honest cop or judge is one who stays bought."

Big blond Surfer Joe from Malibu chimed in, "And fresh I.D. is cheap." He slugged down some red wine, then toked deeply on a spliff and crossed his eyes.

Expats or exiles? You decide.

---

Taxco was beautiful and fun, but it was time to move on.

I doubted I had time to do Mexico City justice so I skipped around it. I headed west to Lake Chapala and Guadalajara and the distillery town of Tequila, of course. Alas, Tequila was rather a grubby place. Ah, but it is true -- tequila DOES make the drinker horny. Until they pass out, of course.

I rode east again through Mexico's central highlands and landed in incredible Guanajuato (WHA-nah-WHA-toe).

Imagine a one-tenth-scale model of Yosemite Valley. Fill the valley with a Spanish colonial city. Put a road along the valley's rim, strung with villages and overlooks. Dig a maze of tubes under the city for traffic. (These were old mine tunnels and underground waterways.) Tie together the underground, surface, and valley-top roads with a seemingly random set of ramps. That is Guanajuato. There is more. Look it up.

This small state capitol and university town hosts the Cervantes Festival, claimed to be the greatest literary-cultural gathering in the Spanish-speaking world. It also houses caverns filled with mummies. And it is home to the usual assortment of horny students.

HOW TO PICK UP SEX PARTNERS:

1: Go to a public place

2: Look and/or act exotic

3: Answer and ask questions

4: Make sure they laugh

I stopped my loaded motorbike at Jardin de la Union, the zocalo near the university. I sat on a low pillar next to the bike. I played wailing bluesy jazz on my bamboo sax. I waited for passersby to notice the C.A. license plates and my devilish good looks and musical genius, ha. I did not have to wait long.

A girl in a yellow sundress and university book-bag stopped, listening to me finish an intense riff of HARLEM NOCTURNE. Her looks: medium height, curvy figure, strong legs, black hair in a long ponytail, round glasses, a half-smile on her cute face, her head cocked to one side.

"Nice playing. Where is your hat? I should throw a few pesos into your hat."

"What, I need a hat? No, I just play for pleasure, not for money, not now."

"You're from Guatemala? What brings you here? By the way, I am Natalia."

"Call me Dextro. And I'm just traveling. I'm heading to California now."

"Wow, California! What's in California for you?"

"School, music, art, love. What else is there?"

I leaned back and honked out a couple verses of SUMMERTIME BLUES. Natalia laughed. That's almost first base, right there. A happy laugh is the first step to a kiss, the first step to a fuck. Go for laughs.

"So what are you studying here, Natalia?"

"I'm starting off with philosophy and law. I don't really want to be a philosopher or a lawyer, but those seem like good subjects to start with."

Damn, she just opened the door for my perfect setup, my most effective line. This will not take long.

"Ah, philosophy and law! Do you explore deep human problems, foibles of existence, that sort of stuff?"

"Oh yes! These are all about what it means to be human, and how relationships are built and regulated."

"I'm always curious about this, because everyone sees it differently. What do you think about incest?"

"Hmmm, incest, that's a tough one. Law and philosophy say it's wrong, but not always for well-grounded reasons. I guess if I think about it, I'd say that it's wrong if it's forced, but not if it's voluntary."

Her mouth was almost upon the bait. Would she swallow it? Would she bite down on the hook?

"So you would be OK with voluntary incest then? Well, Natalia, will you be my sister?"

I gave her my most earnest and innocent expression. She started, then hummed, then roared with laughter.

"Ha! Aren't you the sly bastard! Well, except for the sex, why the hell should I be your sister?"

Now it was my turn to start, and look surprised. They usually just say yes or no. Nobody had ever asked me that! I told her so.

"Why? Because we deserve each other! You are a genius! Never before has anyone asked me why! You must stay with me and teach me how to think. Marry me, and we can rule the world! As brother and sister! Marry me!"

"What, it's not enough to be your incestuous sister? Now you want to marry your sister too? What kind of weird pervert are you? And what the hell could you offer me? What's in it for me? And how many other girls have you asked this? How many sisters do you have?" Natalia's words were harsh but her face was smiling.

"Oh, very good, Natalia! Give him hell!" said a voice from the side.

I had not noticed another university girl walk up. She was a little taller and thinner than Natalia, with a light blue blouse and skirt, black hair falling to her shoulders, an animated face, a book-bag.

"This avocado-eater sure has the nerve, Zenia! But at least he knows how to make music. And how to weave webs. Sure, Dextro, I could be your sister, but you'd better be pretty rich if you want to marry me."

"Well, maybe not get married, but at least we could practice, right, oh my sister?"

"Oh sure, practice, why not? But how could you take me with you to California? Not on this thing!" Natalia gestured at my motorbike.

"I could stay here. With you! Forever!"

Both girls were laughing now.

"Watch out, girl. You've already agreed to screw him. Now he's about to move in with us," Zenia warned.

"Oh, you live together? How wonderful! Zenia, will you be my sister too? And do you believe in incest?"

"Well fuck me, so *that's* how you got to this! OK, let's get real. What's in it for me?" Zenia demanded.

I raised my bamboo sax and ripped out a fast riff of FLIGHT OF THE BUMBLEBEE.

"As you can see and hear, I am very good with my mouth and fingers. They play other instruments too, of flesh and bone, instruments that sing when they are played right. Will you ladies be my orchestra?"

"So you think you play well, do you? I think I need an audition."

Zenia came up to me, grabbed my head, placed her full lips against mine, and gave me a deep toe-curdling kiss, her tongue trying to reach my tonsils, her hands digging into my hair. I responded well, and long, my hands stroking her sides. Several minutes passed before we came up for air.

"Whew, Natalia, I can tell you that this guy is no second fiddle. You should try him out."

"I guess I must," Natalia said. She wrapped her arms around me and dove for my epiglottis. I was still sitting on the low pillar. She pressed in between my legs, pressed her body into mine, pressed her high firm breasts against my chest, pressed our mouths together, and counted my teeth from the inside. Wow.

Natalia pushed away some time later.

"Oh my, the oral exam certainly went well. But now we must try him on the casting couch," Natalia gasped. "Zenia, take my book bag. We'll meet you at the room. Come on, caballero, let's ride, in that direction," she said, climbing onto the back of my bike and pointing out a side road.

I stashed my bamboo sax and we putted off. It was a short ride. Natalia unlocked a courtyard gate, then her casita door. She dragged me to a long sofa.

"Now where were we?" Natalia asked, shoving me onto the sofa and climbing atop me. Her tongue went down my throat again. Such a *friendly* tongue!

The door opened again a few minutes later. "Hey, save some for me," Zenia said.

Zenia came over and pulled my boots off. "I just want to make sure you don't get away, mister incest."

Zenia reached between my and Natalia's bellies and unbuckled my pants belt. "That should keep him here."

Zenia pulled Natalia off me. "We are all very overdressed. The casting couch requires skin."

Natalia tugged my pants off me. "Yes, way overdressed. Fix that." She pulled her dress over her head.

I slipped my tee off. Zenia dropped her blouse and skirt. We were all down to our skivvies, me in black briefs, the girls in tight bras and thin panties that matched their yellow and baby blue outerwear.

"Still overdressed," Natalia said, unsnapping Zenia's bra from behind and loosing her savage breasts. "Do me," she told Zenia, turning around. Zenia freed Natalia's tits to sway freely.

I stood. "OK, it's my turn to give stage directions. From here on, we only use our mouths."

I knelt before Natalia, facing her navel, and caught the top of her yellow panties in my teeth. I pulled downward. I reached out to her hips, turned her sideways, caught another bit of the top elastic, and pulled. Another turn, and my nose was in her ass crack, her panties pulled below her chewy cheeks. Another turn, another pull, and her panties were on the floor. Another turn, and my nose was in her muff. I inhaled. "Aaaahhh..."

I stood and asked, "Who's next?"

Zenia knelt behind my ass and mouth-yanked my briefs down as far as they would go. She turned me right, and yanked again, then left for another yank-down. She spun me so my barely-covered cock pointed to her face. She bit the elastic band and slowly pulled it down, past the last obstruction. My briefs fell to the floor. My cock sprang up and whomped her chin and nose. She licked my dickhead, swallowed it, spit it out, sucked it again, then some more licking. She stood and smiled at me.

Natalia smiled and knelt by Zenia's right cheek. "You are so inefficient," she told me. Her teeth pulled Zenia's blue panties down to her cheek's limit. She turned Zenia and pulled the left side down just as far. She turned Zenia to face her belly, grabbed the elastic with her teeth, and pulled the panties down, to puddle on the floor. Natalia's tongue trailed from Zenia's navel down into her bush. "Mmmmm, nice. See, much less work."

Natalia's tongue brushed Zenia's upper thighs. Zenia shivered and spread her legs. Natalia licked the length of Zenia's slit. "Hmm, not quite moist enough yet." She slurped. "Much better."

Natalia pushed Zenia onto the couch and knelt between her knees. She slurped Zenia's pussy again.

"Hey mister performer, let's see how you improvise this scene," Natalia said, spreading her own legs.

I took the hint. I lay on the floor on my back and scooted myself up, my head straddled by Natalia's tight thighs. Her pussy lowered onto my tongue. I reached up for her breasts. My tongue mapped Natalia's sexual geography, opened her slit, traced her labia, probed her depths, ambushed her clit. My hands massaged and possessed Natalia's firm breasts and protruding nipples.

Judging by the sounds I managed to hear despite Natalia's thighs mashing my ears, she was giving Zenia a similar experience, but more practiced. I soon heard Zenia shouting, "Oh yes! Oh fuck! Right there! Oh! Oh!" Then she went silent.

I felt Natalia's weight shift; she leaned forward some more, bracing her elbows on the couch seat. Zenia's warm mouth engulfed my redwood-tall cock. I moaned, and kept munching on Natalia's tender twat. Then my dancing dick was devoured by Zenia's bearded clam, her voluptuous vulva pressed tight against my pubic bone. Oh, bliss!

Natalia sat more upright, forcing her pussy down even further on my tongue. I felt Zenia's hands rest upon mine as I abused Natalia's tits. I shifted my hands to Zenia's boobs. Natalia reached down and twisted my nipples. This was like kicking in an afterburner! I thrust into Zenia faster, harder, further, and sucked Natalia's crazed clit in a frenzy.

Natalia's body quaked as she yelled. My tongue invaded her undefended vagina. Her cunt muscles clamped down on my oral probe. Her juices nearly drowned me. This triggered my own orgasm. I spewed fiery torrents into Zenia, coating her waiting womb with heat and love. And that eruption drove Zenia to her own climax. Her cunt convulsed on my cock, milking me, draining me, leaving me half-hard and doubly alive.

Natalia climbed off me, then turned around to straddle my head again. I felt her lean forward. I could not see, because my eyes were buried under Natalia's thighs, but I could tell that the girls were kissing and holding each other while their pussies were penetrated by my tongue and my quickly-recovering cock. I kept pushing. They kept moaning. My head and crotch were soaking wet. I like the wet season.

They rose, released me, plopped onto the leather couch, dripping. I dropped between them and added my lotion to that surface. Sex juices, salivas, sweats, tears; we thoroughly marinated the leather.

"I think we can offer Dextro here a short-term contract," Zenia told Natalia, "but you can NOT keep him! Remember what I told you about pets. They are so hard to housebreak. And they only crush your heart when they go." Zenia looked into my eyes. "We'll do this day-to-day, OK? No promises, OK? OK."

"I promise to be good to you both, and not to void on the floor or furniture. Is that good enough?"

"Deal," said Natalia, and kissed me. A minute later, Zenia said, "Yeah, deal," and kissed me longer.

The girls were good to me. They did not throw me out when I played rude ukulele songs.

I did not tell the girls my true story, not all of it. They seemed to believe that I was a big guy from Guatemala with useful talents and a foreign scholarship. The girls were middle-class but sometimes echoed the upper-class negative attitude towards Yanks. Mexican elites generally send their kids to school in Europe, not the USA. Something about the USA invasions of Mexico and theft of half its land, I think.

I stayed with Natalia and Zenia for a few days. I explored Guanajuato and the region during their class times. I took day rides to Dolores Hidalgo, seat of one of the many revolutions, and San Miguel de Allende, home of a famous international school. Ah, more horny students! But only time for quickies, no longer than a half-hour each.

Tearful and lustful goodbyes. Then it was time to slap the California license plates back on, and roll.

---

I rode north to splendid Zacatecas. This state capitol is built in a high mountain bowl. The downtown, which looks like an Italian city except for the traditionally-clad Indians, is at 8500 feet. The suburbs rise a couple thousand feet higher. I could not jog very fast or far here.

Zacatecas is traversed by a funicular and filled with museums, classy establishments, and more horny students. The best places for trysts seem to be secluded corners and garden nooks of the old monasteries and convents that have been converted to museums. But fornication can be tiring when oxygen-deprived.

We were behind a planter in back of a huge church-cum-museum. Tina's serape was the groundcloth. Her firm tan legs were wrapped around me, her sandaled heels digging into my straining back. Her high round breasts were more than merely decorative. I pounded her like a well-oiled machine, but with a leaky valve. I did not let my wheezing deter my determination. Wham! Blam! Whew, I just about blew a piston there...

I stayed one night a half-hour from Zacatecas at 7000 feet, in Jerez, named for the Iberian sherry-exporting town. This village housed the offices of three different Gnostic societies. A Gnostic girl decided that I was worth knowing, gaining gnosis. I traced a kabalistic alphabet on her pussy with my trained tongue. My endurance at that elevation was much greater than when I was in thinner air. No mystery there.

I rode on through Durango. The capitol and state seem more connected to Texas than to Mexico City. This is a land of dry ranches, elaborate cowboy boots, and disco volante (flying saucer) barbeque. The latter is easy to make. Remove a yard-wide metal disc from the farm equipment. Weld legs to it. Build a fire under it. Roast food atop it, preferably beef and pork and lots of it. Enjoy.

I took the side road to the Copper Canyon region. I camped one night on a ridgetop. Awesome country, bad roads, maybe next time. Towns here in Chihuahua state are even more wild-west than Durango. Local women love to ride cowgirl style and they usually remove their boots and spurs before mounting a man. Usually.

I stayed at a mountain girl's log cabin. We showered naked under an icy cascada and screwed in a saddle mounted on a log: she in my lap, impaled on my cock, her arms around my neck, wriggling and clawing like a spastic wildcat. When I leaned her over the saddle and took her from behind, she howled like a coyote.

Rather than retrace my southbound route through Ciudad Chihuahua to the border, I cut west across the Sierra Madre Occidentale on Highway 16. This is a high lonesome mountain road running through unpeopled wilderness, one of the most remote regions of North America. Do not break down here. Do not run out of gas. The next vehicle may not pass for a day or more. Hungry cougars may find you first.

I stayed in a small town near the mountains' crest, 200 miles till the next gas station. Seemingly every posada and motel in town had fiestas going on in their courtyards. I snuck behind a brick oven with yet another Maria, a dark Ladina with gravity-defying breasts, iridescent butterfly-wing eyes, and a slightly screechy voice. She did not do oral but she sure could fuck like a bunny. I staggered back to my room.

I rode on to miserable broiling-hot Hermasillo, then north to Nogales. I was suddenly stateside again. My first stop after crossing the border was for a lousy but familiar Big Mac, to re-Americanize my gut.

I rolled into my sister's place in Tucson. I debriefed Melinda and Dan on my journey, censored of course. We agreed that, other than illness, I had done pretty well. I had not been shot, jailed, robbed, raped (well, only a little), drafted, deported, nor eaten by tarantulas. All was well.

I stopped in Yuma to see Marie and Doris again. They kidnapped and fed me for two nights. We fucked and sucked like insatiable insects. I promised to return on as many weekends as I could. Yuma was about a four hour ride from home, quicker if I sped. That was quite do-able. So were Marie and Doris. Do-able, I mean.

And then I was home. End of the journey. Not the end of the story, though.

---

Wendy had just returned from her full-circle USA+Canada observatory tour with Alma-Li and Kirk. Her next hot-tub party was in my honor. I was royally fucked by all our remaining local circle of friends. Whew!