Chapter 7

We drove through Mexico City. Not exactly tourist, but it let me see the diversity of the huge and hugely populated metropolis.

Driving past the have-nots, we arrived at the haves, just outside the city. Huge mansions with walls and gates. Our destination seemed to be the largest. The heavy wrought iron gate opened automatically for us. She had called as soon as we got the fancy Lincoln she rented to give someone the description and the license plate number.

A tall, tanned, handsome middle-aged man of European Spanish extraction met us in the huge lobby of the hacienda. He hugged Joy and barely shook my hand. “Excuse us Joe,” Joy said, and the man led her up the stairs.

A set of French doors opened, and a gorgeous Native American woman emerged wearing comfortable satin, which did interesting things against her body when she slinked to me, all smiles.

“Follow me,” she said, taking my hand in her petite one. She was short and all curves. She led me through the doors where a bevy of similarly clad women, diverse and all beautiful beckoned me to a settee. A harem. They stripped me and stripped themselves. Bodies rubbed against me. Hands rubbed. Mouths enclosed nipples and cock. Pussies claimed my mouth and my cock. My hands teased nipples and clits. Everything done eerily quietly. Just breaths. No fake panting or shouts of passion. Despite everything, it took a while. When I came, my hurried thrusts signaling it, the pussy I had been fucking quickly lifted off, the condom I has barely noticed quickly removed and I entered a throat. The black beauty smiled with her eyes despite having her throat filled and my cock throbbing out ejaculations. They did tear up a little. And she ended things as soon as my spurts lessened, taking a welcome breath while a brown eyed deeply tanned blonde finished things up. She winked at me.

“Uhm, thanks,” I said, watching the ladies dress. “Any of you know Julio?”

They laughed. The blonde smiled. “Very well,” she said, “If briefly.”

She sounded Southern Californian.

“Similar to me?” I asked.

“A bit longer time with him. We did get a chance to get to know the lovely man.”

“Recently?”

They giggled again. “Very,” the blonde said.

For some reason it clicked. I laughed. “Sailors?” I asked.

The dark skinned fellatrix answered, her accent British, London sophisticate if I had my guess, “Rodrigo thinks meeting ladies instead of thugs makes trade better. Mostly legit.”

“I’m not going to pry,” I smiled.

“Isn’t that your job?” the blonde asked.

I shrugged. “Rodrigo’s business isn’t mine. I’m just glad Julio could have such a pleasant voyage.”

“Us too,” a lovely Latina giggled.

“One question?” I asked.

They shrugged.

“Replacing thugs sounds like things could get dangerous.”

“We can protect ourselves,” said the lovely native woman who escorted me. Her look of determination made me imagine her wearing a Bandelier and carrying an AK 47. Sexy and scary.

“Girls?” I heard behind me.

Weirdly, these strong, beautiful women stood and bowed to the woman behind me and quietly left the room through the French doors. Only then did the woman stand in front of me.

Naked. Lithe body, endless, slim legs and small high breasts of a supermodel, with the face for it too. She looked like a mix of everything. Her thick long brunette hair had a subtle tint of red, and with her greenish hazel eyes, her Northern European influence became clear. But she had eyes shaped like an East Asian and a somewhat flattened African nose. Her accent sounded Russian.

“I’m Sonya,” she told me, straddling my hips and placing a silver tray on my chest, luckily with cloth beneath it.

“Joe Solomon,” I said.

“I know. I’m not feeding you. Drink this.” She handed me a shot glass. The heat of the tequila left an awesome taste. “Good?”

“Amazing.”

She smiled. I grabbed a small soft taco, also amazing. Each taco had a different meat. Beef. Chicken. Fish. Something else.

“Tongue,” she said, removing the tray. I had to grab the dark beer for one last sip. She took it. Then she took my hand and led me to a furry rug with unexpected padding.

Once more on my back, she straddled my face. Close up, I noticed her round little butt had less firmness or elasticity than I expected. I had first estimated mid-thirties. I added another decade. She lowered and I entered her slit with my tongue. I felt her wetness against my groin before. I found more abundance of it than expected. A few laps and a suck on her pronounced clit, seeming even bigger in contrast to her small, almost girlish pussy, made her convulse in orgasm, her fluids filling my mouth.

Recovering, her fist and occasional tongue worked to get me hard. Succeeding, she slid off me and pressed her tits to the rug/pad, her fine ass high. “Mount me, stud,” she purred.

I did, easing into her tightness. It expanded reluctantly. The tightness felt intense, for her as well. “Fuck,” she moaned.

She wanted it slow, and I preferred it as well. Savoring it. Reaching around I took hold of her squishy tits. Again age had decreased their resilience, but they still felt great. For her as well.

Her hips began moving much swifter. I began banging my pelvis against her ass. Not long after, she came, and I fucked even harder through it, driving her when it tapered off to another one. And another. Fuck she was a great fuck. Usually I would last longer, especially having cum recently. I let the overwhelming moment overwhelm me, cumming deep, semen and sperm spraying directly against her cervix. I felt the pulses of her last orgasm surround my throbbing cock.

“Sonya,” I murmured.

“Hmm?”

“That was amazing.”

“Me as well.”

We sank to the rug. She lay her body over me. She kissed me.

“Tell me your story?” I asked.

She smiled and kissed me. “Okay,” she said. “You are discrete, yes?”

“I can hardly hide a wire.”

She giggled adorably and caressed my spent penis. “I am trade, yes? Me and my twin. Identical. I marry Rodrigo and my sister make him babies. I cannot. My sister cannot too. She die.”

“I am sorry.”

“Long time ago. I run things. Girls.” She gestured towards the doors.

Having seen she was tough, tougher than she appeared to be at the moment, I asked instead “Russian mob?”

“Yes.”

“Cocaine?”

“Other things too. Legit. Real estate. Travel. Special ... uhm...”

“Excursions.”

“Yes.”

“The girls?”

“They do trade too. Keep them busy. Out of trouble.”

“Do you know Dulcinea?”

“Bitch.”

“But Joy...”

“Rodrigo wanted her. To recruit her. She say no. But he still like her.”

“She’s great, but you’re better,” I said.

She shrugged. “My cunt what you say old hat?”

“Your English...”

“Sorry. I speak Spanish better.”

“You ... you seemed more confident with it before.”

“For the girls. I relax, not work to get right. Okay?”

“It’s cute.”

She winked.

I shook my head and laughed. “You’re playing.”

“I’m a devious bitch.”

“I’m sure you are. Can I ask ... you’re so tight.”

“Rodrigo won’t let me fuck the help. Passing visitors are okay. The girls too, but I’m not interested. A little discipline sometimes, but they usually find I enjoy it more than them. Not usually. They’re good girls mostly. And,” she whispered, “Rodrigo’s a big man with a little cock.” She giggled. “Thanks for saying I’m better than her. But he prefers her. Men prefer her, I think. Why’s that do you think? She give good head?”

“Yes,” I told her.

“Well I don’t. Prefer to get some instead. More in control you know?”

“With Rodrigo?”

“He’s the exception. Like I said, it’s not a problem,” she smirked.

“So you don’t get any,” I nodded and shifted between her long lean legs and tasted her and me.

She moaned something Russian I thought. A primal reaction. I worked her. Teased her. Kept her at an extreme height of pleasure, where she practically began. I let her grab my hair. She wanted control. But I still managed to control things. And she didn’t really mind. She wanted to be at that crest. She didn’t demand nor beg for release. And when finally she said, “Please,” I moved over her and guided myself inside that incredible tightness, my fingers left to continue my careful play of her rigid clit. Something about her excited me. Her complexity. Her playfulness. Even her bitterness. Of course she was supermodel gorgeous, and she did have that incredibly tight cunt.

A few strokes later, hard and carving, I came with her. I joined the intensity. It left me limp as my cock, as if all tightness, all rigidity, pushed through the narrow channel of my cock into her sterile womb. I even had a momentary thought my sperm might hurt her, like they were hard crystals, manifestations of what had left me and left me bereft of structure, like a squashed worm.

“Whoa,” I muttered.

She giggled, but with a languidness that barely gave it shape. A sound as boneless as I felt. Moving, shifting, she managed to find my mouth with hers. The soft kiss brought connection. I felt thanks in it. Appreciation for my satisfying her. And maybe a little love.

It didn’t last that long. “Need to breath,” she said. I could see her languid smile, despite her lips remaining nearly touching mine.

I didn’t apologize when I rolled off her. It would show weakness to this strong woman, this captured snow leopard of the Urals with the genius to adapt to her luxurious cage and thrive. No animal this, despite the nature being there. Brilliantly human.

“Get dressed,” I heard growled somewhere nearby. Two figures stood in proximity, but they seemed bound in a haze. Only my Russian seemed clear to me.

“You were busy,” she muttered, angry, petulant, hiding fear.

“Payment,” Rodrigo bellowed. “The girls were to entertain him.”

“They weren’t very entertaining.”

“Not your concern.”

“Yes. Yes they are.”

“I’ll protect you,” I told her.

She smiled and kissed me. “Thanks, Joe,” she said. “But I will be fine.”

“Will you?” the man bellowed.

I saw the wince, but the smile returned, and the kiss. “Don’t worry, Joe. He needs me.”

“He’ll hurt you.”

“And I will survive.”

“Joe?” I heard Joy say. “Something wrong with you?”

“Drugged,” I smiled.

“A little cactus and an ancient Mayan aphrodisiac,” my Russian shrugged.

“Peyote?” I asked.

“Not a lot.”

“We have to go,” Joy insisted. I heard her worry.

“Whitemans?” I asked.

“Not yet, but somethings going on at the bordello.”

“A john?” I guessed.

“He says things are weird. Like Dulcie’s slowing the intake of johns.”

I nodded at my Russian. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. “I have to go,” I said. “But I’ll be back.”

“Like hell,” Rodrigo bellowed.

“I will see you,” she promised, kissing me. I believed her.

Sitting up proved easier than I thought. It also gave me another angle to gaze at her. Standing did too. “You should dress,” Joy reminded me.

I looked at her. Still fuzzy. “I should,” I said and did. Slowly.

“Hey!” I said when Rodrigo grabbed my Russian’s arm and squeezed, but she took control, kicking him hard in the nuts and muttering something Russian I presumed meant the accompanying appendage and perhaps its diminutive size. She ran off naked through a side door. Things got a little clearer then, as if her leaving took some of the distortion with her.