Chapter 1

Renee couldn't take her eyes away. The girl's panties were around her ankles. She was squeezed in a human sandwich between two men. Behind her, the man was guiding his huge penis into her ass with his hand. His face was hideous, twisted. Renee didn't want to look. But she couldn't take her eyes away.

Dimly, in the background, she heard the whir of the movie projector, smelled the sweat and cologne that permeated the room. Inside she was sick. She'd never dreamed it would be anything like this. And still she couldn't stop looking.

On the flickering movie screen the girl's mouth was open. She was screaming, or saying something, or crying. Renee couldn't tell which since there was no sound with the movie. Slowly, the girl's butt caught the man's rhythm and jerked with it, cramming the huge prick in inch by inch.

The camera swept over her jolting hips and settled on the prick in front. The dark, swollen head nestled in her black pubic hair. It was still wet, shiny from the girl's mouth. She had been sucking it only moments earlier as the men stripped her.

Renee quivered. She'd never seen a cock that big. Her ass ached with sympathy for the girl in the movie, but her vagina held an unceasing itch that made her wiggle and squirm for relief.

The man guided his penis with his hand. The great head flared out like a dark, blood-filled mushroom pushing relentlessly against the girl's slit. She tried to pull away and succeeded only in driving the other man's large cock deeper into her asshole.

Behind her, the man said something, grinned, then grabbed the girl's hips with both hands and jerked her tight against him.

The girl's mouth snapped open. In her mind Renee imagined she heard the shrill cry of anguish. The agony of the probing prick. And then the man in front drove forward, pushing her cunt open like it was wet paper.

The girl was gasping. The two men had matched their cadence, driving in together, lifting her off her feet on their spearing pricks.

Up she went, her toes straining to touch the ground as they rammed into her. Down, and her knees sagged while the endless lengths of cock pulled out of her, shining in the movie lights.

Renee was sweating. Her own breath came in harsh gasps in empathy with the girl. What was she doing here? In a Mexican whorehouse watching a dirty movie? She tore her gaze from the screen and peeked at Fran's patrician profile outlined against the beam of light from the projector. It was Fran's idea. When that Mexican cab driver said he could take them to see some dirty movies, Fran jumped at the chance. "Don't be a virgin," Fran chided patronizingly when Renee had objected.

But it didn't take much chiding. Renee had to admit that. She was curious. She'd never seen a dirty movie. She'd never seen people making love and she'd wondered how it would affect her. So she had nodded and Fran told the taxi driver "yes!"

Renee's glance was drawn back to the pictures on the screen. She gasped.

One of the whores, a big-breasted brunette with the high, flat cheekbones of an Indian, was sitting on a man's lap. The woman had the front of his pants open and was pulling his penis into view while he watched the movie.

Hastily Renee looked away, focusing her eyes back on the screen where the two men were pounding their pricks into the poor girl at a furious rate. Her panties had slipped off her feet and her legs were splayed so that she was held up only by the vicious ramming.

Her mouth was working as the men made their last hard, desperate assaults and plunged deep into her as their sperm shot into her.

Renee looked into her eyes. They seemed to be staring straight at her from the screen. Tears ran down the girl's cheeks. But her hips still convulsed between the two, immobile men as they milked the intruding cocks for the last morsel of nourishment.

And the screen was blank white and the lights went on. Renee's eyes hurt from the sudden glare. She blinked, gingerly, afraid to really close her eyes in a place like this.

"Fran, let's go."

"Wait a minute." Fran was staring at something. Renee followed the direction of her gaze and blushed. A whore in a gaudy blue and white dress had the skirt around her waist showing the dark fur between her legs. One of her prospective customers was nuzzling her crotch, his tongue flicking wildly as it caressed her slit.

Renee shivered, imagining that hot, greedy tongue at her own crack. "Fran," she whispered. "Let's go."

"All right, Sissy." Fran picked up her purse and led the way across the room.

Renee tried not to look. But it was all around her. The men and prostitutes acting like animals. Ripping and tearing each other sexually.

"Going, girls?" The Mexican at the door leered as he opened it for them.

"What else is there to stay for?" Fran stopped to ask her question, half in and half out of the door.

"Oh," the Mexican winked. "There is mas... more. Maybe you come back later we have a mucho especial show tonight."

"When?"

"A las dos, senorita."

Renee could see Fran frowning mentally as she tried to convert dos into its numerical equivalent in English. "Two, Fran," she whispered. "Come on, let's go."

"All right." She smiled at the doorman. "A las dos, senor."

"Si, senorita," he leered. "You come back then, okay?"

"Okay!" Fran agreed. Then Renee pushed her outside and the door was closed behind them.

Fran straightened her hair. "Really, Renee, sometimes you act like a child."

Renee didn't pay any attention. She was happy taking deep breaths of fresh air untainted by the smell of stale sex and cigarettes. Fran would cool off after a while. The thing that counted was the fact that they were out of there.

When they had crossed the border at San Ysidro, Fran hadn't given the slightest hint she was interested in anything more than sight-seeing. It was thrilling enough for Renee. It was the first time she had ever been on foreign soil.

The fact that Tijuana was a border town with an international reputation as a hell hole of perversion lent spice to the experience, but Renee didn't have any desire to learn any of the perversions--or even see the inside of anything more licentious than the main street bars.

It would be enough to see the statues on the Avenida Revoluccion, trade some of her college Spanish with a waitress or two, and then get safely back to Eureka, Montana.

School teaching wasn't very adventurous, Renee thought ruefully. But adventure wasn't everything. Renee set her lips tightly. Maybe getting screwed in a snowbank by John Benter wasn't the most exciting thing possible, but it was safe and assured.

They had walked up the hill and crossed the main street when Fran suddenly grabbed her arm. "We're being followed, Renee!"

The fear Renee was holding in check got away from her and flooded through her body. Her knees felt weak. Blood drummed in her ears. She glanced hack and then was hurrying forward with Fran.

There were two men behind them. She couldn't swear to it, of course, but she thought she recognized one of them from the place they had left. All of the terrible fears that haunted her came to the surface: the fear of being a stranger in a strange place, fear of being in the dark, of rape and violence. Fear of fear itself. Blindly, Renee followed Fran's lead.

The streets were well lighted, but empty. A chill wind cut through the wool of Renee's sweater and stroked her breasts with cold hands. Skittering before the wind, a Mexican newspaper fluttered down the street to wrap itself around the tire of a parked car.

It waved blindly for help. A corner of the front page turned in the breeze, flapped for attention. Muerte, it said in huge, black type. Muerte. Death.

"We've got to get off the street, Fran."

Both women were breathing hard. Fran nodded. Along the buildings a huge electric sign spelled out the words "Brooklyn Bar." Fran almost ran through the doorway. Renee was only seconds behind her.

Inside it was black. Slowly their eyes adjusted to the gloom.

They were being jostled along a rail that ran parallel to the bar.

"What you have, ladies?"

A fat bartender leaned across the wood-topped bar and breathed halitosis and onions on the two women. "What you have, ladies?"