Chapter 1

Right at my pussy, Paula thought, squirming uneasily. He's staring right at my pussy!

The shabby Mexican boy was about Paula's age, fourteen, kneeling at her feet, holding and applying polish to her loafer with little slaps and rubs, the Juarez sun beating down very hot on them that summer afternoon.

Paula regretted having stepped outside the leather-goods shop in which her parents were still browsing. She also regretted having worn her new short skirt. With her leg hiked up and the boy kneeling before her, she realized he could see everything! Of course she had panties on, and he couldn't actually see her blonde mound, but his hot gaze and amused grin unnerved her just the same. The dirty boy was seeing more of her than she'd ever shown her boy friend back home!

"Watch it!" she snapped. "You're getting polish on my ankle!"

He said he was sorry, but Paula doubted it from the way he chuckled. She wished she hadn't let him talk her into a shine, even though she did need one badly. What I don't need, she thought, is his big, brown eyes eating me up like they're doing! For a second she allowed herself the knowledge that the Mexican boy was darkly handsome, and during that second his gaze caressed her crotch quite pleasantly, actually starting her cunt on its automatic response and making it juice slightly.

But she stopped that nonsense by shutting her eyes and raising her pretty face so she wouldn't have to look at him. Tossing her long, blonde hair, Paula opened her eyes and glanced inside the shop. Her parents were dickering over price, the salesman talking fast as he pointed out the quality of the hand- tooled leather purse her mother wanted.

The sidewalk was teeming with other vacationing Americans. From three doors up music blared in spurts each time anyone entered or left the night club which seemed to be going full steam even though it was only the middle of the afternoon.

Shops and bars, thought Paula. That's all Juarez is.

She didn't like the border city. There was something about the looseness of both residents and visitors which threatened her. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was that made her uneasy, but it did affect her. She would be glad to leave in the morning and get back home to Tulsa.

"Senorita?"

"What?" Paula asked without looking down at the boy.

"You want souvenir of Juarez?"

"I already have a souvenir, thank you."

"Not this kind, senorita. Look... look what I got."

Reluctantly Paula glanced down He was handsome, despite his smug grin. She allowed a half-smile to cross her delicate face, showing her white teeth as her unpainted lips parted and curled almost warmly.

"Peechers," the boy said, reaching into his shirt pocket and coming out with an envelope, opening it and extracting a small stack of photographs. "Really good peechers, senorita. You want see them?"

Having no idea what kind of pictures the boy was going to show her, Paula nodded naively and held out her hand. "What are they of, the bullfights?"

"Much hotter than bullfights, senorita," he laughed. "You look. I sell them to you cheap. Ten dollars."

Paula scowled as she took the small stack of photographs. She knew she wasn't going to buy them at that price, but she had to see what he thought was worth so much money. When she turned the pictures over and got a look at the first one, the smile instantly vanished from her lovely face. She gasped audibly, her hands beginning to tremble and her knees feeling weak.

"You like, senorita?"

"No. It's obscene," she whispered, tearing her gaze from the photo and glancing nervously around as she pushed them at him.

But he was ignoring her, looking down at her shoe as he worked at it with a worn brush.

"Here. Take them back. I don't want them."

"They get better," he said without looking up. "Flip through them all. You'll see."

"No... I don't want to see," she protested, pulling the pictures close to her as a middle-aged couple and three children walked past.

The boy wouldn't take them. He kept working at her shoe, starting to whistle as he put his brush away and began using a polish-stained rag.

Not knowing what to do, Paula stood nervously with the pictures in her hand and her foot propped on the shine box. She had never seen anything like that awful picture, and her mind was still reeling from it. She thought of throwing the lewd pictures to the sidewalk and running back into the leather-goods shop. But she didn't. She merely stood there trembling, watching the boy finish her right shoe and letting him put her foot on the sidewalk and pull her left foot onto the box to shine her other shoe.

As the shock wore off, she realized the photo had also had another effect on her. Butterflies seemed to be darting around in her stomach-the same butterflies that always tried to fly out of her when her boy friend kissed her passionately and struggled to put his hand under her dress.

Feeling lightheaded and ashamed of herself, Paula brought the pictures up and furtively looked at the top one again. It was in color. A very dark Mexican man and a fair-skinned girl were lying on a bed, fondling one another's genitals as they kissed. Paula stared intently at what the girl held in her hand. Recently her boy friend had tried to put her hand on something very similar. She hadn't let him, of course, but it had excited her just brushing her skin through his trousers.

She couldn't resist going on to the next photo, and it was even worse than the first. She heard herself gasp again as she gawked unblinkingly at the perverted act it depicted. The girl was on her knees, bending over the man, taking his big prick into her mouth! Paula felt a chill dart up her spine at the pleased expression on the girl's face. Feeling somewhat nauseated, she slipped the disgusting photo off and put it on the bottom of the stack.

She didn't want to look at the rest of them-not really. But she couldn't tear her eyes away. The man was returning the girl's favor in the next shot, his face pushed between her spread thighs and his tongue licking deep into her hairy cunt. Paula stared at that one, feeling the butterflies in her stomach go wild as she read the obvious bliss in the girl's face.

"Oh my God!" she muttered softly, ripping the picture eagerly off the top so she could see the next one.

The camera had been between their legs for this one, and it had captured every detail. Paula choked back a moan as she saw the man's purplish knob pushing into the girl. She flipped to the next picture and let the moan escape her tensed throat. The male's cock was gone from view, embedded in the girl, his large testicles resting in the crack of her widespread ass.

A sensation of whirling enveloped Paula as she hurriedly flipped through the rest of the photographs. And the last one was the lewdest of all. The man's cock was all shiny-wet, looking soft and red, poised just outside the girl's cunt. They'd finished, Paula realized, fighting the urge to scream as she stared in utter fascination at the semen trickling from the girl's open pussy.

"Ten dollars," the boy said, "take them home and show to your girl friends."

With a start Paula realized the boy was finished shining her shoes. "I don't want them!" she hissed, thrusting the pictures at him. "Here! Take them!"

"You liked them."

"I didn't!"

He grinned, pointing at her loins. "You liked them. I see you are wet. Okay... five dollars then."

"You nasty thing!" she blurted, dropping the pictures as she jerked her foot off his shine box.

While the boy was hastily picking up his dirty pictures, she dug a quarter from her purse and tossed it to the sidewalk, then spun around and stomped toward the door of the leather-goods shop. She'd never felt so insulted. Raging, she darted into the doorway only to bump into her parents coming out.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Nothing, Daddy. The heat, I guess. Can we go back to the motel now?"

"Let's stop at one more shop first," he said. "I want to get one of those black-velvet paintings with all the bright colors."

"For heaven's sake, Elliott," her mother snapped. "You can get your grotesque painting tonight. Look at Paula's face. Why, she's near heatstroke!"

"You are awfully red, sweetie," Elliott said. "Have you been standing right out in the sun? Stay here in the shade with her, Ruth. Let me get the air-conditioning going before you two get in the car."

When Elliott came from his shower, Ruth was standing beside the bed hooking her nylons to her garter belt. He stopped to watch the sensual scene. At thirty-five her body was even better than it had been when he'd married her sixteen years ago. And her face had mellowed rather than aged, making her a very beautiful woman indeed. Unlike most women her age, Ruth had no need for a bra. Elliott counted himself very fortunate to have married her, even though her sex drive was nowhere near as strong as his.

And his sex drive was beginning to make itself known. The light glinted off her very blonde and carefully coiffured hair as she bent to her task, her fingers popping the fasteners into place to hold her hose up snug around her long, shapely legs. In that position her pink-tipped breasts stood out from her body to best advantage, jiggling as she fussed to get everything just right.

All she had on at the moment was garter belt and hose. His cock coming to life, love for his beautiful wife welling up in his chest, Elliott sneaked up behind her. Being careful not to let his prick slip between her nude buttocks, because she didn't like that at all, he bent over her and cupped her tits, kissing her warm back and sighing.

She jerked, then ignored him and went on fixing her stockings to her garter belt.

"Ohh, how I love you!"

"I love you too, darling," she said coolly. "Get dressed."

"What's your rush? We've got all night. Come to bed and let's make love before we go out."

"I'm not in the mood, Elliott."

"It's been almost two weeks."

"I'm still not in the mood. This place upsets me. I don't like it here... and I don't like what we're going to do tonight."

Hurt, his cock wilting at once, he released her tits and stepped away. "You don't have to go with me, you know. Stay here if you'd rather."

"Oh, no," she sighed. "You'll be drinking much more than you're used to. I do have to go with you. I wouldn't want you doing anything foolish."

"Like what?" he asked tiredly, stepping into the fresh shorts she'd laid out for him.

"Hah!"

"Ruth, I'm a minister... remember?"

"You're also a man... remember? And booze and pretty young girls have a way of making some ministers we've known forget how to behave properly. Now I'm not saying you'd make an ass of yourself like George did, but with me along you're much less likely to get into anything you shouldn't."

"For crying out loud, Ruth!"