Chapter 16

Mark followed the irresistible aroma of searing meat a short ways down the street, where he encountered a vendor manning a taco stand. He was grilling up some peppers and onions as well as beef, and the sizzling of the grill and the deliciously fragrant smoke made Mark's mouth water even more. Gary had assured him that he frequently consumed the food from these street vendors, and that the food was safe to eat, despite the warnings frequently given to tourists about the inconsistent quality of comestibles in Mexico. Famished as he was, Mark stepped forward and ordered a couple of beef tacos, though he'd have been quite reluctant to do so without Gary's stamp of approval.

While he was waiting for his food, Mark looked up and down the street. There were several bars within visual range, and Mark knew that they were also places where one could find girls for hire. However, Gary had advised him to stick with the Adelita Bar at first. "Those smaller bars are mostly for locals and more experienced guys," he'd told him. "While you're there on your own, at least at first, stick with Adelita or the Chicago Club, the place right across the street. They're more tourist-oriented. When I'm there later in the week, I'll give you a grand tour of the entire Zona." Mark decided to follow his advice, and keep his desire to roam in check.

He sank his teeth into the flour tortilla stuffed with meat and vegetables the second the vendor handed it to him. One more thing to like about the Zona, he told himself. Good food and beautiful, exotic women ... what more could any man want?

Finishing off both tacos, he washed them down with bottled water. His appetite for food thus quenched, he began his stroll back in the direction from which he came, towards Adelita, to quench the other urge that was beginning to reappear in full force.

Once back inside, he assumed his position next to the upper bar, which afforded a great panoramic view of the entire place. The strip show on the center stage had long since ended, and the stage was now occupied by a few couples, men paired up with working girls, who were doing a little impromptu slow-dancing.

He looked at his watch; it was about nine-thirty. He quickly formulated a game plan: choose one girl from the crowd, pursue and capture, buy her a drink, take her upstairs for a half hour and then catch a cab back to the border. He had a full day of meetings tomorrow, and he planned to be back here each evening, anyhow.

Looking around, he'd narrowed his choice down to just a few girls. But, as he'd soon learn, game plans in the Zona Norte sometimes had to be altered on the fly. Fate was about to pay him a visit, though he didn't realize it at the time.

A petite, diminutive lady suddenly appeared in front of him. On first glance, she didn't appear to be the type that would have immediately grabbed Mark's attention. But the more he looked at her, the more appealing she became.

She was no more than five feet tall. She had a heart-shaped face with unusual, exotic almond-shaped hazel-brown eyes and full lips that were adorned with bright red lipstick. Like Esperanza, though, she didn't use a great deal of makeup. Her long brown hair was full and thick but rather plainly styled. She wore a tight red mini-dress, the same color as her lipstick. Her long fingernails, also painted red, resided at the end of thin brown fingers. Each finger, save the two thumbs, was adorned with a thick silver-colored ring. She wore a necklace with a striking pendant attached to it; an image of the sun, with a smiling face on it, which appeared to be carved out of stone. Mark guessed her age to be similar to that of Esperanza, though it was perhaps a trifle more evident in the face of his new female pursuer.

She smiled impishly as she squeezed her tiny body between Mark's legs as he sat on the bar stool, forcing her knee up into his crotch. Finally, she spoke.

"What's your name?" she asked, in English. "I am Yadira."

"Mark," he replied. "Yadira ... that's a pretty name."

Unlike every woman he'd encountered so far in this bar, Yadira didn't immediately press him for a drink or a trip to the hotel. "Nice to meet you, Mark. Where are you from? San Diego?"

Mark was impressed with, among other things, her reasonable command of English, adorned with a very cute accent. He realized that extensive, meaningful conversation would be possible. "I'm not from San Diego ... I'm from Philadelphia."

"Philadelphia. You fly very far, I think."

Mark smiled and nodded. He told himself, Okay, maybe her English isn't perfect, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Yadira continued, "But you are staying in San Diego, no?"

"Yes ... I'm here on business."

"Beez-ness," she repeated. "Your beez-ness," she went on, pointing at her chest, "is my beez-ness."

Mark let loose with an enthusiastic laugh. I like this one, he said to himself. Out loud, he told her, "You're very nice. Come on. I'll buy you a drink."

The minute they settled into a booth, Yadira began to bounce up and down in the seat, pressing her little tush into Mark's, following the rhythm of the blaring music, making faces as she did so. She looked over at Mark, who was viewing her with inquisitive, curious eyes. She broke out into laughter, then threw her arms around Mark and whispered into his ear, "You don't know Yadira yet. But you will."

She let her hand wander into his crotch, gauging his level of arousal. She found it to be substantial and increasing. "Mmm... mucho grande, " she said, giving him perhaps more credit for his physical endowment than he deserved, but Mark wasn't complaining. She grabbed his cock through his trousers, and made sudden upward, downward and sideways motions with her hand, simulating the operation of a manual stick shift. Mark, who was becoming more and more captivated by the spirit of this bubbly woman, outwardly continued to just look at her quizzically. She giggled once more at his reaction, and then relaxed, letting her head fall against his shoulder.

"Can I take you back home with me?" Mark said with a smile. "Actually," he went on, "I'd like to take you upstairs, to the hotel, for thirty minutes."

A few minutes later, Mark found himself once again being led down a corridor in the direction of a hotel room. This time, their assigned room was up one more flight of stairs. Yadira, a bit quieter now that they were upstairs, nonetheless smiled as she stepped into the room ahead of Mark. She immediately went to the Venetian blinds and moved the ropes up and down, making sure they were completely closed. "The talacheros," she explained, referring to the room custodians, "they crazy. They like to watch."

Mark got the picture; he had already questioned the wisdom of having a window facing inward toward the hallway. But it seemed to be a standard feature in every room.

Yadira flipped on the light in the bathroom, and then killed the main light in the room. Mark found this dim lighting to be quite erotic. He received another surprise as Yadira removed the wig she'd been wearing; her real hair was shorter and confined in a ponytail. Though it was hard to tell in the semi-darkness, it appeared to be about the same dark brown color as the wig. Mark was curious about the wig, and though he didn't want to disrupt the ambience by talking about it now, he made a mental note to ask her about it later.

She looked at Mark, who was already undressed and sitting on the bed. In one motion, she lifted the dress up over her head and was naked. She'd been wearing no underwear.

Yadira stepped directly in front of Mark, offering him a breast. He took it into his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed his hands all over her body. Her skin was uniformly soft and supple, her arms and legs firm and shapely. Mark deduced that she exercised regularly, and he vowed to ask her about that as well.

Pulling her breast away from Mark's mouth, she leaned slightly into him, implying that he lie back on the bed. No sooner had Mark done so than Yadira took him into her mouth. And no sooner had she taken him into her mouth than Mark realized, this woman has a rare gift.

Despite her small stature and tiny face, she took his entire length into her mouth and throat, bobbing up and down with unparalleled technique. Had Esperanza not taken care of him just a short while earlier, he'd have exploded down Yadira's throat. But he bore down, concentrated and held back. Eventually, she pulled back, sat up, and told Mark, "Watch this."

Taking the condom she'd picked up at the check-in desk, Yadira ripped open the wrapper. She unrolled the rubber and placed it over her lips. To Mark's astonishment, she inhaled sharply, causing the rubber to inflate into her mouth, with the ring at the base remaining firmly in place around her lips. She then descended down onto Mark's cock, taking in his full length once again, positioning the condom with her mouth. She drew back her lips and released the base, then pulled away, giving Mark no more than a sly grin. Mark, too, was silent; he was duly flabbergasted by Yadira's feat, the likes of which he'd never seen before.

She slid next to him on the bed, drawing him on top of her, yielding to his wanton thrusts. When Mark finally came, it felt like it would never end. He lay on top of her for a good five minutes, his sweaty cheek pressed against hers. Finally, Yadira giggled as she patted him on the back. "Come on, baby. I can't breathe. Let's take a shower."

The idea of showering together had not occurred to Mark; but the thought caused him to spring back to life. He followed her into the bathroom as she turned on the water and closed the sliding glass door. She handed him the soap and instructed him, "Wash me." Dutifully, Mark soaped up his hands, rubbing them all over her breasts, which he had tasted a few short minutes ago. He repeated the process, working up a good lather on his hands, then turned his attention to her pussy, taking the liberty of slipping a finger inside her as he did so. At that point, he began to regret only having thirty minutes with Yadira. He wanted to wash her scrupulously from head to toe, shampoo her hair, savor the experience...

The dreaded knock on the door, audible even through the jets of water spraying down over both of them, interrupted Mark's reverie. Yadira grabbed a towel, said to Mark, "Stay," and walked out to the entrance of the bathroom. She angrily shouted something in Spanish to the room attendant who was no doubt positioned right outside the room, then slipped back into the shower with a bright smile. Mark realized that she'd procured them a few extra minutes.

"My turn," she said devilishly as she fondled his cock with her now soap-covered hand. She gave his member a quick wash, and then noticed it was beginning to expand once again. "Ooh, baby," she said with a sultry leer. "Maybe you have more."

She knelt down in front of him, the water flowing down over her tiny body, and resumed deep-throating him. But Mark's well was dry at this point, and Yadira realized that. She stood up. "No more juice for me?" she said, curling up her lips in a mock pout.

"You do that very well," was the only reply Mark could come up with.