Sex Tourist Ch. 30-31

Chapter 30.

Trevor gives Boxi a Cluster-Fuck. Boxi takes Thirty-Two Scalps.

A night's sound rest revived him and he set off for the Flying Club, flashed his certificate, hired a micro-light, and took off on his first unsupervised flight. He returned pumped up and relishing the prospect of Boxi's companionship.

She was on stage dancing when he entered Niftys, and flounced down to sit with him, giving him her customary hug and kiss.

"Do you enjoy your break?"

"Yes. I'm now an aviator. I've got my certificate."

"Do you bar-fine some girls?"

"Yes. I bar-fined a girl."

"I see you in Camelot. But you do not see me."

"So you've been out on bar-fine?"

"Yes."

"Every night?"

"Yes."

"Busy girl. I just had one bar-fine one night. You've had more fun than me."

"But it is boring with those guys. I like to go bar-fine with you."

Trevor grinned. "And I'll give you 10,000 pesos."

Boxi leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Anything you like ... I do it."

"I'd like to make a movie," he suggested.

"A bold movie?"

"Very bold. A cluster-fuck."

Boxi recoiled. "How many guys?"

Trevor laughed. "I don't know. I don't have any guys ... and I don't have a camera."

Boxi cocked her head thoughtfully. "Give me ... 20,000 pesos ... and all your guys use a condom."

"I'll think about it. Maybe I'll buy a camera tomorrow."

"And when you go home?" she asked.

"Sunday."

She frowned and wiped away an invisible tear. "Saturday night we can have a big party ... and you bring your friends."

"Mmmmmmm..." said Trevor, "... that's an idea. Maybe we can do something with that."

Boxi leaned towards him again, and whispered, "OK ... Tell me ... What is your plan for me tonight?"

"First, you tell me what you got up to with your bar-fines this week. Anything you particularly enjoyed?"

"My customer on Tuesday have a vibrator. I like that."

"Good. Then we'll go and buy some vibrators ... and, I think, some dancing boots ... and tonight I'll take photos."

They bar-hopped down Perimeter Road to Fields Avenue, where they shopped in Nawty-but-Nice.

"Choose three. They're gifts for you," Trevor invited.

Boxi took her time making her selection, shooting questions at the two bakla behind the counter. Large, gnarled and colourful were her preferences. In addition, Trevor bought an inflatable anal probe, and plenty of batteries. They carried their bags down to a fashion shop exhibiting dancing boots in its window, and he bought her a shiny, black, knee-length pair, and a micro-kini. They walked to Kokomos to eat.

"If we go in Niftys, can you dance in your boots?" asked Trevor.

"Just my boots"

"Boots and mikro-kini, if possible."

"It is possible."

At Niftys, while Boxi changed, he received a text.

'why u fuk my frend. Cos u like 2 hurt me. I do not luv u nomore. I giv bak ur gifts. I do not want remembrance of u. Giv 2 ur puta in niftys. C is a bad girl c like only ur money c do not care 4 u'

He suppressed the temptation to send a taunting response.

'Bloody Allyza. She doesn't want me. But she doesn't want me to have anyone else. '

The magic of the moment was lost, and as he gazed at Boxi writhing on the stage, the tiny cups of her micro-kini un-centred, her pointy, brown nipples exposed, he seethed.

By the time they returned to the hotel, he had calmed down.

"Sir, a lady leave this for you." The receptionist handed him a plastic bag with his key.

He looked inside to see Allyza's glittering necklace lying on her soft lingerie. He felt very sad. On the way to his room, he decided not to pass them to Boxi. He composed a text.

'I will keep ur presents 4 u, only u will wear dem, luv Trevor'

Boxi was keen to try the vibrators, and her excitement and enthusiasm soon distracted him from morbid brooding over Allyza. With Boxi lying back hugging her knees to her shoulders, he was able to insert the inflatable probe into her rectum, and all three vibrators into her pussy. Trevor got his shots and they settled down to sex play. He had never used a vibrator before, so he experimented, playing it over his body to experience the sensation, finding it pleasing and relaxing.

"Show me what your customer did ... that you liked so much?"

"Like this," said Boxi, and holding Trevor's hand, she played the tip over her pussy, pressing hard against her clitoris.

"OK. You can let go. I've got the idea. Is it better than having your pussy eaten?"

"You can eat my pussy also, but first the vibrator."

The vibrator buzzed, and Boxi closed her eyes then sighed for ten minutes before she tensed, grunted and sagged as she allowed herself a lazy orgasm.

"Here, I'll give you a vibro-masage."

Boxi gave passive assent.

He straddled her hips, and started by stroking the vibrating tip across her hairline. Her diaphragm gently heaved against his erection, but there was no sound save the vibrator's hypnotic buzz. Trevor loved to consume her body with his eyes, and now had the opportunity to examine her in detail. Wielding the vibrator like a paintbrush, he reverently traced her features, etching them, indelibly, in his mind.

Boxi was not Allyza, but, tolerant proximity, and, common purpose, gave birth to friendship; she was a soul-mate, to whom he would be grateful for ever, and he wanted to memorise her features, her odour, and the rhythms of her body, to retain them as a consolation in the coming years of his decline, when he could no longer enjoy sensual pleasure. He tenderly caressed her tiny forehead, eye-sockets, nose, ears, cheeks, and chin, and gave special attention to her lips. These were blow-job lips. They had the shape and colour of blow-job lips: plump and soft rubies which had encircled his penis in playful caress, a caress he wanted to remember for ever.

He took her hair in his hand, and breathed in its scent before moving to her slender neck, her fragile pectoral girdle and shoulders. One by one, he lifted her arms and leaned to inhale her armpits, impressing his rigid penis into her soft belly as he did so. He worked down her arms to her hands, which again struck him as incredibly small. He lingered over her breasts and nipples, before tracing the ladder of her ribs down to her belly. Next, he shuffled down to her feet, and worked his way back up. Starting with her toes, he left no detail untouched and unmemorised.

Arriving between her thighs, he spread her legs, pressed his nose to her vagina and breathed her in, before proceeding to outline her pussy. Then, rolling her over, he repeated this process on her flip side, culminating in the cleavage of her buttocks. He was thrilled when, at the touch of the vibrator, her crinkly anus turned smooth and pouted. With his penis twitching, he sat back against the headboard, satisfied he had acquired a memory of lasting value, a memory which few people, especially, few of his colleagues at home, would ever treasure.

After a few minutes Boxi stirred. "Maraming salamat," she said, and reached over to grasp his erection. She smiled. "For me?"

"Bend over," Trevor instructed.

Boxi raised her buttocks doggie-style. He took the anal probe and slid it into her dilating anus, and pumped. Then, he gently pulled, and the bulging probe popped out, leaving her anus agape for a few seconds. He reinserted, and pumped longer. This time he had to pull harder to dislodge it. The probe was now girthier and left Boxi's anus gaping wider than before. Twice more he increased its diameter, giving up when the probe could only be disgorged with difficulty. Satisfied her anus was dilated to its maximum, Trevor pushed his fingers in, and pressed back the walls of her rectum. This revealed the 'elastic arsehole' he so desired. It had clung hungrily to his penis, and was an orifice he wanted to be able to visualise, when only the memory of its voluptuous grasp, remained.

Finally, he applied lubricant to his penis, and pressed into her. He built to an unhurried climax, and ejaculated into her rectum.

Lying back beside her, he leaned over and whispered, "Thank YOU."

"You are welcome, Sir," she murmured.

Trevor snuggled up against her, and they drifted into sleep.

Next morning when he woke, Trevor at first, basked in the afterglow of the previous night. On this holiday, he had enjoyed blow-job lips, he had invaded an elastic arse, and become an aviator, however, a sense of anticlimax soon followed when he realised that few of his mornings would dawn like this.

Tonight was his last in Angeles. The prospect of waking on Monday morning, to London and work, filled him with dread, and, for a moment, he panicked.

'One last day. Probably, my last day with Boxi. Possibly, my last day, ever, with a girl like Boxi. How can I bring my holiday to a grand finale?'

He conjured up a scene, and the panic passed. Bold pursuit of his desires, and bald statement of his demands, were the only way.

When Boxi woke, he told her, "I'll take you to Thi-Hi this afternoon, and, tonight, we'll have a party."

As they entered Thi-Hi, they were recognised; calls of greeting, and an expectant murmur, filled the bar. Alma appeared, to greet them, and the Saturday afternoon regulars whom they had befriended the previous week, were there.

"Can we do the same as last week?" asked Trevor, and minutes later Alma and Boxi emerged from the back, clad only in the sheer lingerie that rendered their nudity so enticing.

After exchanging greetings and desultory banter with a few customers, Trevor said to Boxi, "I've got some shopping to do. Here's some money, I'll pick you up later."

With difficulty, he explained to the trike driver what he wanted, and after a disorientating drive through dense traffic, the trike drew up outside a mall. The driver waved towards the entrance; Trevor signalled him to wait, and entered. He found a camera shop, perused the display of camcorders, made a purchase and returned to Thi-Hi pausing only at Kokomos to buy two boxes of expensive western condoms.

Joining the group to which Boxi had become attached, he unboxed the camcorder. With suggestions, advice, and some reference to the manual, he inserted the battery, loaded a tape, and recorded and played back a short movie.

Leaning over to Boxi, he whispered, "Cluster-fuck tonight?"

She leaned back, and whispered "20,000 peso?"

He smiled, and nodded.

When Boxi went to change, he sought his companions' attention. "I'm going home tomorrow. Tonight, I'm giving Boxi a cluster-fuck as her farewell present. It's open house. Anyone, who'd like a turn with her is welcome. It's condoms only. Room 21, Sunset Garden, seven to eight pm."

As they left, they heard several patrons call, "See you later."

At the hotel, Trevor's first concern was to ensure the camera battery was fully charged and that his tapes were blank and rewound to the start. Boxi showered, shaved herself, then sat in front of the mirror with tubes of creams, and wipes, and a small bag, from which she took weapons to pluck her eyebrows and trim her lashes.

When both had attended to their immediate concerns, Trevor said, "We'll go down to the bar and spread the word. I'd be disappointed if no one turned up."

"How many do you like," asked Boxi.

"It's only an hour. I'd be happy with three or four, but I've got twenty condoms. How many do YOU like?"

"For an hour ... ten is good."

At the horseshoe-shaped bar, where four or five guests, some with their girls, sat watching the TV, Trevor ordered drinks for everyone, and received their polite acknowledgement. This admitted him to the commentariat, expressing opinions on what passed on the screen, but addressed to the bar at large. About quarter to seven, two of the customers from Thi-Hi appeared, greeted Trevor and Boxi, and sat with them. Trevor bought them drinks, and told Boxi to go up, and prepare. When she left, one asked, "Everything still on for seven?"

"Yes. I'm not sure how many guests there'll be, but I'd be grateful if you could share the word with these guys." Trevor indicated the others at the bar.

"We can do that. And there are a couple more of our mates, who said they'd come."

"I'll go up and prepare. The door will be unlocked. Knock and enter. We'll be ready at seven."

Boxi was pacing up and down, arms crossed, naked apart from her suspender and stockings. She looked up, slightly startled, when Trevor entered.

"I'm nervuous."

"Don't worry. You'll soon be too busy to be nervous," Trevor assured her.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and he fiddled with the camcorder, confirming he could operate it. Shortly, approaching voices were audible from the landing.

"Quick, onto the bed," said Trevor.

Boxi rolled into the middle, and posed in recline, her upper body raised on an elbow.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," called Trevor.

The door eased open and, a grinning face, peeped through.

"Come in ... Come in." Trevor beckoned in the two guys from Thi-Hi.

"Hi Boxi," they called, and she waved. She knew them, and they had previously enjoyed her company in her present state of undress. "Alma says to wish you 'good luck.'"

They then paused, uncertain how to proceed. One asked Trevor, "How would you like this to go?"

Trevor thought briefly. He had not expected to be asked to initiate proceedings. "Uhhhh ... There are condoms on the table. Drop them in the waste basket when you've finished. Start with a blow-job ... and then ... whatever you like ... Boxi fights, 'no holes barred.'"

"I help you," said Boxi, and she slipped of the bed, took a couple of condoms, knelt in front of the two guests, and eased their semi-tumescent penises out of their shorts. She deftly brought them to erection, and slipped on the condoms. Trevor had paused to watch, and suddenly remembered that he should be recording. He lifted the camcorder to frame the shot and, as her mouth closed on the first penis, pressed 'Record.'

She was lifted onto the bed, and her guests pulled and manipulated her, to accommodate their probing penises. Two more guests arrived, and Trevor's attention was divided between recording the scene and organising an orderly queue. By half past seven there were eight guests, most of whom had disrobed, cooperating to ensure each received fair access to his preferred orifice. Boxi stretched and bent compliantly, admitting two and three penises at a time. Her small brown body convulsed at the centre of a cluster of bucking hips, clinging to her, and penetrating deeply from all directions.

Soon, Trevor's supply of condoms was exhausted, but her guests shared their own stock amongst themselves. Eventually, some flagged, and sat on the edge of the bed, or stood off, and started to dress. When the last two were sated, Boxi was abandoned on the mattress, where she lay limp, panting and glistening with perspiration.

Trevor checked his watch. It was quarter past eight. He pressed 'Stop' and ceased recording. A cough, and he raised his voice. "OK guys, we've overrun a little. Thank you for coming."

The guests pulled on their clothes, elaborately thanked Trevor and Boxi, and very soon had seeped away.

Trevor climbed on the bed beside Boxi and began to mop her body with a towel.

"Was that good?"

She stretched, contentedly. "Mmmmm ... eight guys."

"You were great. They all kept coming back for more. Are you tired?"

Boxi stretched her arms back towards the bed head. "Yesss. But, I shower in a minute."

"NO ... DON'T SHOWER. I want to fuck you while you're still freshly fucked."

She laughed. "I know ... Whatever you like."

"Did you ... really ... enjoy it?" asked Trevor, fishing to share her pleasure.

"It is really good," said Boxi, "having all those cocks in me. It is so exciting when so many guys like to fuck with you."

"Then we'll do it next time I'm here."

"I like that. Come back soon."

Trevor picked up the waste bin.

"Look. Our guests enjoyed it too."

He emptied the condoms onto a tray and sorted them. "Thirty two. It was your 'Happy Hour' thirty-two-for-one. You ARE a bundle of fun." The phrase, both Jake and Donald had used to describe Allyza, suddenly flashed into his head. "Sit up, and hold out your arms."

Trevor draped sixteen condoms over each arm. "This will be a record of your achievement. Thirty two shots in one hour."

He took his camera and captured the shot. 'This will be a sensation on the forum', he thought.

He knew his holiday had passed its climax, and all that was left was to suck the bones.

"I'm going at six in the morning. Tonight, I'm just going to fuck you all night, I want as much of you as I can eat."

"Come to bed. Enjoy," she invited.

Trevor hooked his camera to the TV and switched input. As his movie of her cluster-fuck played in the background, he took his pleasure, ploughing long and deep into every orifice. Even when he shot dry, he continued to penetrate Boxi until his buttocks threatened to cramp. Unable to prolong his holiday further, he collapsed beside her and the two sweaty bodies quickly fell asleep.

At five-o'clock in the morning his alarm sounded. Sleepily, he hurried to finish his packing, and Boxi staggered into the shower. When she came out, he went in. By half-five they were dressed and ready to leave.

Trevor examined his wallet. He slid onto the bed, and handed Boxi a wad of notes. She looked at him questioningly.

"25,000 pesos. I've given you a bonus."

Her face lit up with delight, she squealed and hugged him. "Thank you ... thank you."

They slumped back in an embrace to await Trevor's car, speaking little. Trevor's mood was flat, and he clung to Boxi's body for comfort.

Boxi budged, and he turned to meet her eyes. "Trevor, thank you for the twenty five. But, I also ask you to eat my pussy before you go."

Trevor's spirits rose a little. She wriggled out of her knickers, and presented herself. Trevor set to work, knowing this communion of spirits, constituted, their goodbye kiss. A knock on the door interrupted their farewell. Trevor dissuaded her from coming to the airport, and he last saw her, through the rear window, waving with one hand, holding a bag containing her sex-toys and fetish-wear in the other.

As his car turned the corner, she disappeared from his life; but he carried away her wraith, a treasured memory.

Chapter 31.

Networking on the Net. New Friends and their Slut-Wives.

Late Sunday evening, he arrived at Heathrow. At two-o'clock on Monday morning, he re-entered his Enfield home. At half-past-five his alarm sounded; at half-past-six he went out into the cold and dark, and at half-past-seven was in his air-conditioned office. His loneliness had begun when he left Boxi, and after thirty hours he was grateful to have company, albeit institutional and hierarchical. Word spread through the office that he had obtained a pilot's certificate.

"Only for micro-lights," he insisted, "there's still a long way to go."

But, for several hours he was the office celebrity.

He suffered through a day of jet-lag, and left the office promptly at four. At half-five he was home alone. His solitary pleasure was his computer, which he booted into life. After locating Grant's email address he scrolled through his digital images to find the photos of Alma and Boxi. He lingered on the pictures, warmed by the memory of freedom, beauty and companionship. This, he reflected, was the person he was when set free, and this was the world he created for himself when free. By contrast, the open prison in which he was now confined felt unbearably bleak.

By eight the photos were on his computer. He reduced them to email size and composed an email.

'Hi Grant,

You may remember me. I'm Trevor and we met in Thi-Hi last February. I had the pleasure of meeting Alma, and I so enjoyed the experience I brought my girl Boxi to spend an afternoon with her a couple of times. It went well, both girls were gorgeous, and the regulars at Thi-Hi enjoyed their company. Alma asked me to copy you some photos of the event, so here they are.