by Lou Cameron
The pretty but rather hard-looking Dulcenia shrugged and replied, “Like yourself, we wished for to get out of the hot sun and perhaps have a little fun while the owners of this old house are away. How did you get so steenky, Deek? You smell as if you just crawled out of a cesspool!”
“Close enough. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
She laughed and said, “Oh, this is Anita. I told her about us.”
Anita, who was maybe five years younger and not as shop worn as the ready-for-anything Dulcenia, wasn’t staring at the naked American’s face as she said, with a Mona Lisa smile, “Si, I thought she was just boasting when she complained of internal injuries. Do you always run around naked with your deadly weapons exposed, señor?”
He grinned down at her and said, “Don’t be scared. Neither one is pointing at you right now.” Then he turned back to the older and tougher Dulcenia to ask in a more serious tone, “Why were you two trying to break in and, more important, who were you planning to meet here?”
“Deek, are you accusing me of being unfaithful to you?”
“Why not? I don’t recall us exchanging vows the other night. It was you who told me about this property being vacant when I picked you up at El Paseo. I’m not being jealous. I just have to know if you girls planned to let some other guys in once you made sure the coast was clear, see?”
“Do you see any hombres with us, Deek? I told you, we just wished for to, ah, look around.”
“Yeah, I noticed a lot of the furnishings were still here. Okay, come on in the kitchen and meet the gang.”
He didn’t lead them, he herded them into the kitchen, where Sanchez still had his shitty pants on and Gaston was wearing nothing but his own .38 and a bemused smile.
Gaston had already wiped his old hide clean with a damp rag and tossed another to Captain Gringo as the somewhat awkward introductions were made. Captain Gringo wiped himself with the clammy cloth, at least where he needed to most, as Gaston questioned the girls in his own way about their sudden interest in real estate. He got about the same answers, smiled crookedly, and told Captain Gringo, “They don’t look like lesbians to me. So it’s burglary. Front door?”
Captain Gringo shrugged and said, “No way to get a wagon in through that narrow alley gate. Nothing left in the house one could cart off any other way. So, yeah, a bold-as-brass approach during La Siesta might work, should anyone bothering to look notice the front entrance opened from inside by someone who looks like a housemaid. Where did you get that black dress and apron, Dulcenia?”
“Oh, Deek, what are you accusing me of? I told you the last time we, ah, met that I worked in a cantina, remember?”
“Yeah, and you were wearing your cantina girl’s flamenco skirt and off-the shoulder campesina blouse from work, too. Gaston, did you ever have the feeling a lady was fibbing to you?”
“Oui, the first time I was fool enough to pay the rent in my trés misspent youth. It was most annoying as well as difficult to understand when the virgin who said she’d run away from a convent gave me my first dose of clap.”
Gaston took Dulcenia by the arm as he added, “We’ll cover the back from upstairs. You two will naturally want to keep an eye out front, hein?”
Dulcenia protested, “Hey, I thought I was with Deek!” as the wiry little Frenchman led her out of the kitchen, whether she wanted to go with him or not. Captain Gringo ignored Anita for the moment to tell Sanchez, “Find a broom handle or something and give all those duds in the sink a good churning. Put your own pants in, too, for God’s sake, and change the water a couple of times. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”
“Wait,” protested Sanchez, “I have no weapon! What if someone else tries to break in down here?”
“That’s why Gaston and me are covering both entrances, of course. Nobody’s about to get in either way without a battering ram and a steel skull. Meanwhile, the sooner you rinse out those duds and spread them to dry, the sooner we’ll be able to see you home. So do it!”
“Where do I spread them to dry, on the grass out back?”
“Jesus, haven’t you ever hidden out before, Sanchez? You spread ’em in front of that beehive fireplace in that corner and light a charcoal fire, see?”
“Build a fire in this kitchen, as hot as it already is this late in the day?”
“You’re learning. Our linens will dry in no time and the next-door neighbors won’t wonder what they’re doing in the pateo of a house that’s supposed to be empty. If it gets too hot in here, go in the living room or, hell, come on upstairs and join the fun.”
Sanchez stared primly at the delicately blushing Anita and said, “Señor, I am a married man.”
Captain Gringo told him that was his problem and led Anita out. As they headed for the stairs, she protested, “Don’t I have anything to say about this, ah, Deek? I confess I am not a virgin who just escaped from a convent, but, damn it, you might at least say something romantico to a girl before you rape her!”
He herded her up the stairs, saying, “The rape part is optional. First we find a window overlooking the front entrance. Then we see if I trust you enough to get romantico, see?”
At the top of the stairs, he didn’t try to find out where Gaston and Dulcenia were. Old Gaston acted silly at times, but when he said he’d be guarding a post, nobody had to worry about it. He led Anita toward the front of the house, kicked open a door with his still booted foot, and sure enough it was a front bedroom.
Better yet, they’d left at least the bare mattress on the four-poster near the windows. The windows were French, though jalousied with slitted shutters from top to bottom. He cracked one open to see they led out onto a second-story balcony just large enough for a lady to stand on during a serenade, or to fire up and down the calle nicely from. He left the jalousies agape and told Anita to make herself comfortable as he hauled a heavy chest across the doorway to make it difficult for anyone to get in, or out, by surprise. When he turned around, gun in hand, he saw Anita had taken him at his word and was seated on the bed, removing her clothing.
Since she’d only arrived in a circle skirt, blouse, and sandals, there wasn’t all that much to remove. She lay back across the bare mattress in nothing but her bare brown complexion to sigh, “I wish they had left the pillows, but then, a pillow under me with a man like you could ruin me in any case, no?”
The weapon she seemed most interested in twitched with sudden interest despite the fact it was supposed to take orders from his brain. But Captain Gringo was alive at the moment because the rest of him took orders from his more sensible organ. He said, “Hold the thought” as he sat down beside her to cover the front entrance through the slit in the French windows near the head of the bed. Anita sighed and said to the ceiling, “Just my luck. I finally meet a man who’s hung right and he turns out to be some kind of a bird watcher. There is nothing out there, Deek. It is High Siesta and by now even the birds have gone home for to sleep, or at least for to have good fun in bed, no?”
He placed his free left hand in her fuzzy lap to comfort her as he said, “Si, si, un momento, querida. I hear a wagon coming along the calle. So somebody else must not know it’s La Siesta out. I wonder who on earth it could be.”
Anita placed both palms against the back of his hand and spread her lush tawny thighs to be finger fucked as she purred, “Who cares if some pobrecito is late getting home? Come home to Momma, querido!”
His old organ grinder must have thought it was a swell idea, from the way it was throbbing, fully erect, between his own bare thighs. But he put nothing but his free hand in old Anita’s throbbing love box as he held the gun in the other and listened with some interest as the wagon stopped out front and, sure enough, someone started pounding on the front door downstairs.
“You want to tell me about it, now?” he asked Anita, who just kept moving her hips in time with his finger strokes and moaned something dumb about wanting the real thing, now, por favor.
He said, “Bul
lshit. You and your boyfriends planned to loot this house. So, look, that seems fair, doll. My own pals and I didn’t bust in with engraved invitations from the owners and there can’t be five hundred colones’ worth of mighty heavy shit to carry off. I just want to know if those guys who came to strip the place are sensible guys or not, see?”
“I do not know what you are talking about! Oh, fuck me, por favor! I am almost there and I do not wish for to waste it on this kid stuff!”
Downstairs a gruff male voice called out, “Hey, Dulcenia? Open up, damn it. Are you in there, Dulcenia?”
The girl he was fingering froze, despite the rather undignified position she was in, and stared up at Captain Gringo with fear-filled eyes. He chuckled softly and said, “Perfidy, thy name is Woman.”
“On my mother’s grave,” she sobbed, “it was not my idea. Kill Dulcenia. Don’t kill me, querido! I love you too much for to ever betray you!”
“Never mind whose idea it was. Who the hell are those guys you two agreed to let in, and try the truth for a change, damn it!”
She started to cry as she replied, “It is Dulcenia’s, you know, and my brother, Juan. They are not armed. They are only ladrónes, not really malo, see?”
“Okay, just keep quiet and let’s find out how serious they are about getting in. I’m not all that malo, myself. So don’t shout any silly warnings to your brother and that pimp if you want to keep this a friendly occasion!”
He strained his ear as he heard the men down in the street muttering in consultation. Obviously, had they intended to just break in and to hell with public opinion they wouldn’t have sent the girls around to the back, one of them disguised as a maid. So there was still some hope they’d just go away, figuring the girls hadn’t been able to pick the lock out back, which was reasonable when one thought about how clumsy Dulcenia could be with a hat pin.
The matter was decided in a manner Captain Gringo wasn’t expecting and wouldn’t have chosen, had it been up to him. Another male voice called out, “Hey, you two with the wagon. For why are you trying for to get in this house, eh?”
The one who’d been yelling for the girls to open up replied in the voice of sweet reason, “Is this not numero cinco cinco, officer?” and the cop of course replied, “Pero no. It is uno dos dos. Cinco cinco is a good six blocks from here. What’s up? For why are you searching for either address during La Siesta, eh?”
“We go where the boss tells us, and he is a slave driver who seems to think money is more important than our health, officer. He told us to pick up a sofa at this address. Or, that is, at cinco cinco, Calle de Rosas.”
The cop laughed and said, “Madre de Dios, you muchachos have been out in the sun too long! This is not Calle de Rosas and even if it was you are half a dozen blocks too far north! This house is empty. We are keeping an eye on it for the owners. Who in God’s name told you this was the place you were sent to, eh?”
“Damn,” replied the cool burglar in mock dismay, “I thought that kid we asked for directions looked sneaky. But for why would a boy wish for to give false directions to honest working men who had done him no injury, eh?”
The cop sighed and replied, “When you have pounded a beat as long as me, you will know what a wicked world we live in, muchachos. Wise-ass kids are the least of my worries. The little shit must have thought he was being funny. The calle you want is three calles west, and the address is a good six blocks south. Go with God, if you must, or take the advice of a friend and get out of this hot sun until La Siesta ends, boss or no boss. That is what I mean to do, as soon as I finish this round. On a day like this, even the crooks won’t be back on the streets until three, eh?”
Everyone out front laughed, and Captain Gringo allowed himself a modest chuckle as he heard the wagon drive off. He left the window agape but wedged the .38 between the mattress and the headboard as he told Anita, “All’s well that ends well. Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”
But as he started stroking Anita’s clit again she sobbed, “I wish for to go home! Let me up, por favor!”
He grinned down at her and said, “It’s a little late to change your mind, kiddo. It was your idea to start this, for whatever reason. Now that you have my undivided interest—”
“No, wait. I do not wish for to be divided by your interest! You scare me. You have eyes of ice and … Madre de Dios, what is that big hot thing you are trying to … No! No! It is too big and I am no longer in the mood and you are hurting me, and killing me, and Jesusssss! Forget what I just said, querido mio!”
He did, as Anita locked her long, smooth limbs around him to take everything he had to give her, to the roots, as she gritted her teeth, hissed in mingled discomfort and delight, then started moving in time with his thrusts, digging her nails in his bare buttocks as if to pull him deeper into her. He was willing. Aside from being a lot prettier than Dulcenia, whatever Dulcenia was doing at the moment, Anita was built smaller and nicer in every way. But knowing she was as tough a little street mutt as her tougher-looking pal, Captain Gringo didn’t worry about treating her gentle, and she loved it when he treated her rough, to hear her tell it.
She sobbed, “Si, si, si. ¡Pronto, pronto y profundo! Pound me deep and dirty, Deek!” So he did.
Even in the shaded bedroom it was getting hot and sticky as the tropic sun rose ever higher to bake the roof tiles of Limón. They were both soon slick with sweat as they rutted like pigs and, while he’d never thought of sex as dirty, he had to admit they were getting a bit gamey, for he’d just crawled through a sewer and Anita had apparently passed through a fish market in recent memory, judging by the way she smelled as he really warmed her up. But there was something to be said for honest human body odors, once one forgot one’s drawing room manners. So he found hers sort of sexy, until, after they’d come twice together, old-fashioned, she asked him if he’d ever gone sixty-nine with a sweetheart. He had, of course, with ladies he’d admired more and shared a shower with first. But he told her Americanos didn’t go in for such perverse Franco habits, and she told him he didn’t know what he’d been missing. He said he was game for Greek loving, if she was, but Anita blanched and asked, “Do you think I am loco en la cabeza? I won’t walk right for the rest of the week as it is! No woman could take that monster banana of yours up the ass and live! But let me up, I wish for to suck it, if only to have something to brag about when Dulcenia and I compare notes. She said you only screwed her in the grass out back three times, with all your clothes on. Es verdad?”
“I never kiss and tell. I don’t eat pussy, either.”
She laughed lewdly, and shoved him off and over on his back to crouch above him, wiping his shaft with the hem of her skirt as she said, “We shall see about that.”
He protested, “Maybe another time, after we’ve both had a bath.” But she didn’t answer. She couldn’t talk when her mouth was full. He closed his eyes and said, “Jeeee-zussss!” as her skilled, puckered lips slid up and down his reinspired shaft, tight and hot as the asshole she was probably lying about, too. He knew now he’d never in this world return the favor orally, now that he could see she’d had a lot of practice with oral sex, with a lot of guys he didn’t know well enough to follow with his nose.
But what she was doing with her mouth seemed to excite her, and when she cocked a tawny thigh across his chest to present her gaping crotch for his full inspection, he was a good enough sport to put his hands up and play with her pinkness as skillfully as he knew how. And from the way she moaned in pleasure and started bobbing her head faster, he could tell he was doing something right. She seemed to enjoy having him hold her vaginal lips open with one hand as he slid two fingers of the other in and out while massaging her clit with his thumb. She began to bump and grind her pelvis above him and raised her head just long enough to hiss, “¡Fantastico! Pero outrage my anus as well and put another finger in with the others, por favor!”
That sounded reasonable, and he found it sexually arousing as well to st
are up into her vaginal opening as he played doctor, opening it up as far as it would stretch to abuse her internally with four, not three fingers in her love box while he ran the index finger of the other hand in and out of her rectum like a little dong.
She was treating him even nicer, with her amazingly tight lips and, Jesus, tonsils? So he gasped, “We’d better switch back to the usual way if you don’t want a mouthful of lunchar, doll!”
But she hissed, “Come in my mouth! Make me come, too! I am almost there, if only you would fill me more, querido!”
He was running out of fingers. But a gent always tried to oblige a lady. So he moved all four fingers deeper, till the knuckles of his left hand filled the pink rim of her vagina and then, what the hell, maybe the thumb would make it, if he was careful about the nail.
It did, just. Anita gasped but seemed to be trying to open wider as she felt what he was doing. So he shoved harder and suddenly his whole hand was in her to the wrist. She raised her head to bay at the ceiling, “Oh, glorioso! I have never felt so full! Do it! Do it! It must feel like this for to fuck a horse!”
He wondered if she’d ever tried that. There seemed to be no end to the deceptively innocent-looking Anita’s sexual experimentation. But he found it oddly exciting to watch his wrist slide in and out of a woman like the shaft of a stallion as she madly sucked his own, while he sort of played Kitten on the Keys with his fingers inside her.
He came ahead of her, in her head. She didn’t seem to notice as she kept on sucking, moving her hips in time with his fist fucking until she suddenly clamped down on his hand and almost cracked his knuckles in a long, shuddering orgasm. He shuddered too, and said, “Jesus, let’s get back to normal before we kill each other.”
She didn’t answer. She’d fainted.
