Chapter 10
When Anna didn't show up the second day, Jeff still didn't feel worried, but he did feel a shade of resentment. He didn't actually believe her implied story about checking out an Indian village for social research. Anna had already shown quite clearly that social research was a poor excuse for being in Mexico. Other things were stimulating her. He jhut it out of his mind. Don't sweat it, Cal had advised him.
He left a note for Concha, telling her he wouldn't be back until late, and lest she might think his passion for her had cooled, he added an endearing line, telling her he would see her again without fail. She would know what he meant by "seeing" her. Then he tucked his largest sketch pad under his arm and shoved several crayons in his shirt pocket and caught a small inter-village bus down to TIayacapam, a village even smaller than San Tomas. He roamed around the plaza, sketching the shifting scenes taking place in this center of activity against a background of the ancient church with its disproportionately tall belfry tower.
At midday he ambled over to an open-air restawante for a bottle of Bohemia beer and a couple of enchiladas. He chatted with the men lounging about at nearby tables, and his better than passable Spanish earned their friendly curiosity. After showing them his sketches, he wandered on down to the lakeside. The inevitable women were washing clothes; a few fishermen were hanging their nets, wet from the early morning's work, on high poles to dry; and dogs and children and goats and pigs ran everywhere.
He sat on a broken wall against the gravelly beach and half-rheartedly began to sketch a weed-invaded shambles of what must have been at one time a magnificent villa. Down here he was away from the village, concealed by a thick mango tree, and the only sound he heard was the buzzing of bees ravishing the flowers that bloomed in profusion among the weeds.
He heard a giggle not far away, and he looked around, expecting to see some children watching him. Instead, he saw two young girls in sandals and thin frocks coming down a ragged stone ramp that sloped into the lake a short distance away. They were too busy talking and giggling to each other to see him. Silently he watched them approach and pass by him only a few yards away.
They were very pretty mestizos with thick glossy-black hair and mahogany skin as smooth as fine leather, and their slim-waisted but fully-developed bodies showed that they had not yet borne children. Jeff thought of Concha, and immediately his cock stiffened a trifle. He ought to go right on back to the casa and make love to her again. This time maybe he could get in her without really paining her.
"What if a man comes?" one of the girls asked the other.
The other glanced about rapidly, and Jeff froze, holding his breath while the dazzling black eyes swept past his place of concealment. "There's nobody here," she answered firmly. "Give me the soap."
The first girl handed a bar of soap to the second, who jumped off the ramp into the lapping water. She splashed down to stand on the bottom, with the water up to her waist.
"Come on in," she urged.
Cautiously, Jeff turned to a blank page in his sketch pad and began to draw quick lines. For once he wished he had a camera instead, but this would have to do.
Having satisfied themselves that no one was around, the girls became carelessly indifferent, and their chatter was laced with sexy fantasies that made Jeff grin. The one with the soap placed the bar on the ramp and they both paddled out into the lake a short way, then turned back, coming in until their hips were out of the water and moulded by the dripping thin frocks. Apparently they had nothing on under the frocks. It was the time-honored way for peasant women to bathe in the lake.
Their mounds protruded plainly against the clinging fabric, and the dark aureolas surrounding their water-stiffened nipples were easily visible. They lathered their bare arms and armpits, then calmly raised their wet frocks and proceeded to soap their black-bushed crotches.
"Ramon's 'dove' would get lost in that brush," one laughed, pointing at the other's white-lathered pussy.
"It's tight enough to bite off his dove's head," the other retorted. "I don't know about yours."
"I'm no puta," the other giggled, and splashed water on her friend. "I've still got my jewel."
They lowered themselves in the water until it came to their necks, and Jeff could see their arms moving vigorously as they hand-washed themselves. One stood up again, and the bottom hem of her frock had caught and hung over the high arch of her young breasts. Her companion reached over and tweaked a stimulated nipple which was sticking out like a dark olive.
"You have titties like my married sister," she teased. "She has suckled three babies already."
"I still have my jewel," the other protested, and they both giggled again.
"What is that bump on my cola?" The speaker lifted her skirt and turned her plump buttocks for the other to see.
"It is but a grano, a pimple," she replied, after bending and examining it. "You should not lie on the ground so much-under Chuy."
Protesting, the bare-assed one lunged and hooked her curved hand in the other's crotch. "I'll fuck you!" she threatened. "I'll get your jewel with my fingers!"
Chuckling silently, Jeff did several more quick sketches, bare outlines of their different poses and positions, then he put the pad down and simply watched them as they bared each other's body in their hilarious game of grab-ass. What hot little creatures, he marveled. Sex seemed to be their main preoccupation, for all their protests of virginity. Again he thought of Concha, and wished he were back in the casa, in bed naked with the lovely maid.
There was no way, he knew, of trying to entice the girls over to him. They might talk and act raffishly, but if they even suspected that a man was watching them they would be out of the water and running like panicked deer. He had too much respect for them to simply get up, say something like "thanks for the show, girls," and walk away. But he didn't want to wait forever, either.
After what seemed hours, during which time they soaped themselves and rinsed at least half a dozen times, his problem was finally solved. Far down the beach a youth rode his horse to the water's edge, turned, and trotted along the sand toward the girls. They saw him while he was still more than a hundred yards away, and with a great splashing and squealing they hurried out of the water. Sliding their wet feet into their sandals, they darted away, back toward the village.
Jeff got back to the casa just as Concha was leaving. He stopped her inside the gate, and dropping his sketch pad he took her in his arms. She moulded her body to him willingly, lifting her lips for his impatient kiss.
"Come back in, querida," he urged. "I want you so much."
"No, Jeff," she refused softly, pulling away from him. "I cannot. I am expected at home."
"Then come back tonight," he begged, reaching for her again, but she pushed his hands aside, not angrily but firmly.
"That I cannot," she said. "In this town-" She rolled her black eyes meaningfully. She raised up on her toes and lifted her lips for another short kiss. "I will see you tomorrow. I promise." Her strange, fascinating eyes opened wide, flashing him more promises, then she turned swiftly and hurried out the gate.
"Another goddam stone-ache," Jeff groaned, and went into the house to make himself a drink.
He slept badly that night, even getting up once in the early hours before dawn to pace about outside on the dew-moist lawn. What am I so antsy about? he wondered irritably. He missed Anna; they had been sleeping together for a year or more, and although they were frequently apart, this time it was different, somehow.
He went back into the house and poured himself three fingers of rum in a glass and drank it down. Then he went into the bedroom again and sat down on the edge of the bed. Get her out of Mexico, Cal had advised. What did Cal know that he didn't know? Finishing his drink, he clicked out the bedside light and lay down again. The rum helped and he managed to fall asleep again, but his sleep was fitful, troubled by strange, incoherent dream-fragments. Sometimes it was Anna he saw, and sometimes it was Concha, her reticence gone and her ripe lips smiling invitingly.
He was concentrating so deeply on his watercolors of the previous afternoon's sketches that he didn't hear the soft tread of Concha behind him on the tiles of the patio when she arrived next morning.
"Maravilloso!" she exclaimed, sincere wonderment in her voice.
He whirled around, startled, but recognizing her voice even as he looked up into her lambent eyes. "Do you like it?" he asked. Before she could answer he reached a long arm around her hips and pulled her in front of him, then down to sit on his lap.
Her miniskirt flipped up with her movement and he dropped his hand on top of her bare thigh even as he drew her head down for a long kiss. She cuddled against him, her brassiefed tit nudging his chest and her arm squeezing his neck.
"Fresh as honey," he breathed, reluctantly taking his lips from hers. "You're so sweet."
She murmured something very softly that he failed to translate, then she sat up straight and said with feigned sternness, "Now, where did you find those girls?"
He grinned. "They never knew I was there." Briefly he told her about the girls bathing in the lake.
"I'm jealous," she said, bending her head to kiss him again. This time She tested her tonguetip against his lips, and he thrust back with his own, stabbing rapidly all over her soft lips until she quivered.
"Then I must reassure you," he said, standing up with her in his arms.
"No," she protested, "I must do my work first, Jeff." But her protests weren't very forceful, and as Jeff carried her through the house she pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder.
He put her down on the edge of the bed in a sitting position, then stripped off his clothes, down to his shorts, and lay back on the bed, his head propped on pillows.
"Now," he said, "take off your clothes while I watch you."
The blush which turned her cheeks and neck to glowing apricot couldn't have been faked, and as she turned away from him modestly to remove her blouse he saw that the flush went down over her shoulders as well. Yes, Concha was a virgin. But she was also an aroused, healthy young woman, alone in a bedroom with the man she loved.
Her blouse dropped to the floor, and then her bra dropped on top of it. Slowly she turned around, her head bowed and her long hair flowing over her shoulders and partly covering her high-tilted young breasts. The effect was completely delightful.
"My God but you're lovely!" Jeff exclaimed, his voice deep with emotion.
Encouraged, she raised her head and looked at him, shyly at first, then with growing confidence. She smiled, and in a natural reflex her hands came up to cup the golden, purple-tipped hills of flesh.
"Your tits are copas de oro," he said, naming the lovely cup-of-gold flower that bloomed all over San Tomas.
Her smile widened with pleasure. Hesitating no longer, she unsnapped the waist of her miniskirt and let it fall down her hips and legs to the floor. With her thumbs hooked in the elastic band at the top of her black nylon panties, she glanced at Jeff's shorts and paused a split second, then bent over and took them off. Then, with the ingenuous grace of a novice model she stood before him, her palms toward him and her arms extended a little.
"Come," he said huskily. He stared at her lithe naked grace as she approached the head of the bed and paused again, near enough now that he could reach out a hand and touch her. Lightly he traced his fingertips under her breasts and down across her stomach until they touched the upper curls of pubic hair.
Her eyelids fluttered and she gasped faintly. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and turning, stretched out beside him. As his arm went about her shoulders, she snuggled comfortably against his chest.
Jeff tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers, and their hot breath intermingled while their bodies slowly tensed and moved closer against one another. He was still on his back, and he felt her hand gliding across his chest in a hesitant caress. With his lips writhing against hers and his tongue thrusting urgently between her teeth, he encouraged her to continue caressing him with her hand.
In a moment it moved downward, still lightly, until it touched the elastic band of his shorts. There was a pause, and then he felt her fingers moving over the fabric toward his throbbing hard-on, confined under the shorts.
Would she touch it? Take it out? he wondered. The moment of hesitation was much longer this time, but at last a timid fingertip traced the bulging outline of his rigid tool. It jerked away, but went back again, and then her fingers slipped over the bulging muscle to partly grasp it Would she take it out?
He squeezed inward with the arm about her shoulders, mashing her firm tit against his chest. She obeyed his signal, thrusting her fingers through the opening of his shorts and grasping the hot shaft of his cock, slanted upward along his belly.
"It's too big, lover," she whispered, dragging her lips from his. "I'm afraid."
"I promised you I wouldn't hurt you," he said earnestly. He pulled away and bent down to strip the shorts off and fling them across the room. "Don't be afraid." He took her hand and put it on his cock again.
She held it without moving for a while, and then her fingers tightened about the thick muscular column and she slid the skin up and down. Jeff could tell she was getting more excited by the second from just handling his dong, for her breath came more hotly into his mouth, and her lips were more soft and pliant. He reached for one of her tits arid squeezed it a few times, then began to knead the pointed nipple into thick sensitivity.
"Too big," she murmured again, but her voice was passion-drugged and without conviction, and her hand was now pumping with swift knowledge, tugging the skin down tight from behind his bulging cockhead and sliding her firm grip all the way to the base of his pole.
Jeff turned loose her orange-sized tit and reached down to put his hand over hers. He released her fingers from around his throbbing cock and placed them down around his balk.
"Gently," he whispered in her ear. "They're very delicate."
Realizing that he, too, could be hurt in love-play, Concha carefully handled the twin spheres in their hairy pouch, dangling them in the palm of her warm moist palm and fingering the swollen base of his rod where it emerged from his pelvis. Erotic curiosity was replacing any lingering fears she had, and her breath came even quicker with the excitement flaming through her.
Jeff felt the moisture on her forehead as she pressed it against his chest and looked down at the ruby-tipped flesh-pole she held in her slim hand. He hoped she'd go down on it. To feel those softly generous lips around his painfully turgid cockhead would be sheer bliss, but he didn't want to rush her into any fancy variations until he'd gotten her used to fucking.
And now was the time to begin that. Her thighs parted willingly under the pressure of his hand, and he rolled over and between her legs. Letting go his cock, she shifted her body into comfortable readiness, then put her arms about his shoulders.
"Draw your legs up a little," he whispered in her ear, and she slid her heels up along the bedspread until her knees rubbed past his thighs and rose above his hips. Her juicy slit was on a higher, more level plane now, more available to his questing cock.
Propping the bulk of his weight on his knees and an elbow as he had done before, he held his cock and guided it into the soft-lipped slit. Her crisp cunt hair stroked the flaring rim of his cockhead as he played it up and down the delicious crevice.
"Lover! Lover! Lover!" she murmured. "Oh, how I love you! Be good to me. Please be good to me!"
She was already so eager that she braced her heels hard into the steady mattress and shoved upward with her groin as if she would engulf the probing blunt instrument teasing her sensitive cunt.
Jeff stroked his cock against her rampant little clit a time or two, which excited her even more.
"Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhh!" she sighed as she heaved upward in an awkward rhythm.
Waiting no longer, he set the pointed tip of his marble-hard cock into the slippery, small-lipped orifice, and matching his movements to hers, but keeping his thrusts very short, he literally let her shove her pussy up and over his rigid pole. She was so excited and hot now that she hardly seemed to realize that she had driven her tight little cunt opening onto his cockhead until it was buried past the flanged rim.
More carefully yet, Jeff kept his hip movements coordinated with hers, allowing a tiny fraction of an inch at a time to be drawn into the unbelievably tight sheath. Her own movements became more rhythmical and fluid now as she fell into the most natural routine in the world.
Suddenly her eyes flew wide open and she stared unbelievingly up at Jeff. She had just realized that he was well into her, not deep but securely locked by the constricting embrace of her virginal cunt. The cluster of black glittered in each eye, the strange, club-shaped pupils dilated extraordinarily in the dimness of the cool room. Then she laughed, a throaty laugh of pure joy. She was fucking, loving, fucking, loving, fucking, and there had been no pain. Only an overwhelming, all-consuming fire of such ecstasy and bliss as she had only dreamed of before in her most fantastic dreams.
"I love you! I love you!" she babbled through her laughter. "Oh, fuck me, lover, fuck me!" Tears of joy trickled from the outer corners of her eyes and glided across her temples to be lost in her black hair spread on the pillow.
Laughter still shuddered through her passion-slack lips as she increased the range of her hip movements incorporating a swiveling action which came easily to her round, well-cushioned buttocks.
Wisely, Jeff still let her set the pace and regulate the depth of her thrusts, but all the while letting more and more of his cock sink into the reluctantly parting channel whose soft but muscle-ringed walls were slick with the juice flooding around the hard-nosed intruder.
Abruptly her smoothly hydraulic rhythm broke and Jeff knew that she was about to start coming. As hot as she was, it was small wonder that she'd get her cookies so quickly. He also felt something else at the supersensitive tip of his prick: a resisting membrane that vibrated like a dnunhead each time Concha shoved her starving pussy up onto his iron-hard cock. She was too excited to really notice, and now that she was about to come, she couldn't care less.
Now, Jeff thought. Right now. He slid his hands underneath her perspiring shoulder blades and up to hook over the top of her shoulders, to give him complete control of her writhing, surging body.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" she gasped and grunted in staccato bursts. "Oh Jeff! Oh Jeff!" Her pelvis flipped higher and vibrated against and around his partially buried cock, and her joyous cry rang out in the quiet room. "Aiiiiiiiiiii!"
Even as the shrill ululation of soaring rapture burst from her straining throat, and her hips, out of control, surged up in spasmodic thrusts, Jeff rammed down and forward. He felt a brief resistance like a film of plastic parting before his driving prick, and Concha's joyful cries changed into a shriek of pain and shock as the bludgeoning pestle ripped through her maidenhood.
But the frenzied girl was riding the crest of her first real deep-cock climax, and the fleeting pain was nothing to the waves of mind-blowing delight washing through her entire body. Sensually aware of the new depths to which Jeff was plunging into her, she clawed at his back and renewed her strong upthrusts, rising on another orgasmic flight even before the first one had subsided.
What a wild ride, Jeff thought hazily. I sure turned the right key in this girl. Her hot wet tongue was thrusting into his ear and her teeth were biting the lobe, and her continual moans of bubbling joy seethed through her throat like a tidal wave. Perspiration sluiced between their joined bodies, and their bellies rubbing together created suction cups that smacked like lascivious kisses.
Even aided by Concha's strong uninhibited thrusts against him, Jeff felt an incredible resistance around his deep-driving cock, a strangle grip that only made the bulbous-headed tool swell even more. And the eager body of the strong young girl was in the throes of a series of climaxes that seemed endless, and her powerful undulations rode Jeff up and down as if he were floating on waves.
"Aaaaaaiiiiiiiiii!" she cried again as new convulsions seized her. "Oh Jeff, my lover, my strong sweet lover, I'm dying! Oh Mary Mother of God I'm dying! I love you! I love for you to fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
It was impossible to hold back his load any longer, not with his cock gripped in such a pussy-clutch by this sex-frenzied girl beneath him. Digging his toes into the mattress, Jeff drove harder into the padded valley, unafraid now of hurting Concha. She was past anything but delirious joy, and her sharp little cries assured him that she welcomed the entire length of his engorged prong. His balls slapped wetly against the juice-slicked surface of her uptilted buttocks, and her thighs rubbed like satiny pillars around his waist each time he slammed his hips forward, burying his swollen-veined shaft all the way inside her hot body.
"Take it, baby!" he grunted in English as the first charge of sperm pulsed through his aching dong and erupted inside her, right against the end of her snug sheath.
Her sensitive pussy felt the new throb in the massive pole tormenting her with delight, and her whole body seemed to squeze around Jeff even closer, locking him to her while he pumped his plentiful load of creamy liquid into her. He sagged, spent and gasping, and still the inner muscles of her plumbed channel squeezed and milked his cock, swollen and inflamed to unbearable, exquisite agony. like a mother folding her baby to her breast, Concha wrapped her arms about the relaxed man lying on her cushioning tits, and a contented smile curved her shapely lips. She shifted her body to a more comfortable position, stQl holding him between her spread legs. Her smile became brighter as she flexed her love-muscles lightly and felt the gradually softening bulk of Jeff's dick still wedged deep inside her.
He opened his eyes and looked into hers, just inches away. A luminous joy gleamed in the strange, dark depths. She slid her head along the pillow to touch her lips softly to his, then drew back, her teeth and eyes ahke shining in a happy smile of confidence and satisfa-tion.
"You're my first lover," she said, unnecessarily. She knew, as well as did Jeff, that when they finally got up there would be crimson stains mixed with the juice-spots on the bedspread. "No matter where you go, I will always love you."