When at last Efraín let Ken’s balls go for good and began once again to rub his slippery tongue up the shaft of Ken’s cock, Ken thought he’d go out of his mind with lust. He had to pull his mouth off Efraín’s erection in order to catch his breath. They remained lying on the truck bed in their sixty-nine position, but side by side now, and Ken raised himself a bit on one elbow.
“You’re so hot,” Ken whispered. “You’re such a hot, sexy man.”
“Thank you. I like you too.” Efraín held on to Ken’s penis, his fingers encircling the veined shaft, as he continued to lick the head, teasing it with his tongue. “I like to suck your cock,” Efraín added, before he used the very tip of his tongue to tickle the slit in Ken’s cockhead. Ken’s dick pulsed so fiercely in response to the tickling that he was afraid he was going to come.
“Let me have yours again,” he pleaded. “Let me suck it.”
“Be my guest,” Efraín said. “Suck on that caña of mine.”
Efraín had just referred to his cock as a stick of sugar cane, and Ken had to admit it was an apt simile. It was stiff and sweet-tasting, and he loved to suck it. He lowered his head again.
If he’d been hot for it before, now Ken was famished for that cock, driven half-insane with a wild, irrational hunger for its bulk and heat and potency. Cock whore? He was a cock whore, and damned proud of it. He wanted that cock in his mouth, down his throat, fucking his face, spurting its hot, salty fluid into him, more than he wanted anything else in the world. His whole being was straining to accommodate that hard, stud prick that was reaming out his throat. He could feel his mouth watering around it, his tongue struggling madly like some trapped animal in its determination to lick it everywhere at once.
“Suck it, maricón!” Efraín pleaded. Abandoning his momentary passivity, he pushed his cock into Ken’s throat and drove it deeply in and out, reaching down with both hands to grab Ken’s head and hold it in place as he pushed the blond man’s face more firmly into his crotch, fucking Ken’s mouth and throat with brutal, rapacious lust.
Ken loved it. The rough treatment excited him as he’d rarely been aroused before. He stuffed that throbbing prick all the way into his mouth, not caring if he choked on it or not. His lips brushed through the black silk of Efraín’s sweaty pubic hair, wanting to swallow up more dick than even Efraín had to offer to a cocksucker. Ken sucked him with an oral fury. He swallowed the cowboy’s cockshaft completely, and he did gag when he took too much of it at once. But he held on and continued to suck. The lust swelled and boiled within him, inspiring him to heroic oral efforts, making him crave more cock each time his mouth went down on the other man.
“Are you ready to get fucked?” Efraín finally asked.
Ken pulled his lips away from the Mexican’s prick. “I was born ready,” he boasted. “Get it in me.”
Efraín put on a condom and gave himself a light coating of lube. “I want you to sit on it, you pretty blond gabacho. I want you to ride my cock.”
“Just let me get in the saddle, cowboy.” Even as he spoke, Ken was shifting his position, squatting over Efraín’s groin with his buttocks spread.
He descended with a recklessness born of violent sexual need, and the two men’s bodies were suddenly locked together in the most intimate way possible. The full length of Efraín’s sheathed dick was inserted in Ken’s ass. Grunting, resting his hands on Ken’s knees to steady him, Efraín began to thrust.
“Oh, you’re going in deep,” Ken exulted.
“Ride me, gabacho. Ride that cock.”
“Shove the motherfucker right up into me, man. I like it rough.”
Efraín reached down, seized Ken’s parted buttocks in his hands, and gripped them hard, holding Ken steady on top of him in fucking position. Then he began to jackhammer the full length of his dick in and out of Ken’s ass with astonishing rapidity, really reaming Ken out.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” Ken kept babbling, although he could scarcely draw a full breath, let alone utter coherent speech.
“Beat off,” Efraín told him. “Jerk yourself. Shoot your cum all over me. I’m not going to come in your ass until you come first.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever you want.”
Ken abandoned himself to the pleasure that Efraín was giving him. He flexed his internal muscles to increase the pressure that thick cock was exerting, deep inside his ass. He heard Efraín grunt with surprise and satisfaction when Ken’s ass tightened around him like that and held on to him possessively, making Efraín have to work harder at thrusting in and out of him. And all the while, Ken massaged his own desperately excited prick with his fist, trying to soothe it, but knowing that only an ejaculation could give him the relief he craved.
It didn’t take long for Ken to explode. His balls tightened even more in warning, right before he began to shoot. His sphincter clenched and spasmed around the bulk of the cockshaft that was jammed through it. His semen sprayed onto Efraín’s dark-skinned, hard-muscled torso. Grunting, the Mexican went right on fucking him. It seemed like an eternity before he finally climaxed as well, his load safely contained inside the reservoir tip of the rubber.
“Ah, you fucking whore!” Efraín bellowed. “You fucking asshole. Take it, you little fuck. Take my cum!”
Ken never wanted the fuck to end. For one thing, the way Efraín kept spewing obscenities was providing Ken with a crash course in dirty Mexican slang. For another, his asshole was spasming furiously around the bulk of Efraín’s cockshaft. He had rarely enjoyed being screwed so much. And to his delight, Efraín turned out to be the kind of man who didn’t stop fucking just because he had ejaculated. The tough young ranch hand continued to hump Ken, reaming out his ass with his thick, hard dick until at last both men admitted defeat and succumbed to their mutual postorgasmic fatigue. Their sweaty bodies collapsed in a heap and they lay together on the blanket on the bed of the truck, struggling to get their breath back.
Efraín grabbed Ken’s head between his hands and kissed him.
“Very nice,” Efraín murmured. “You are a very nice fuck.”
“And you’re one hell of a stud. Damn. My asshole is still burning.”
Efraín laughed. “I must go turn off the water.”
Reluctantly the two men separated so that Efraín could get dressed while Ken retrieved his shorts.
“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?” Ken suggested.
“Do you make decent coffee?”
“The best.”
“Then I’ll stay.” Efraín grinned. “I never turn down an invitation from a handsome man.”
“Neither do I. Obviously.”
The sun was rising. Efraín went to shut off the water while Ken got breakfast started. Efraín returned, and helped him with his cooking chores.
Perhaps attracted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, Rick came staggering out of the tent. He was nude except for his T-shirt, and thus presented quite a sight as he stretched and yawned.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
“We have company,” Ken pointed out.
“Jesus! So I see. I’m not dressed.”
“So we see,” Ken retorted.
“Don’t concern yourself on my account,” Efraín said easily.
Nevertheless, Rick excused himself long enough to get dressed. When he emerged from the tent again and joined the other two men, Ken made the introductions. Breakfast turned out to be convivial affair, with Efraín chatting away about what life was like on the ranch, and about what attractions lay ahead in the two Americans’ itinerary.
Rick volunteered to pack up the tent, which gave Ken a chance to say good-bye to Efraín one-on-one. The two men kissed and exchanged their personal information, including mailing and e-mail addresses, which they wrote down for each other.
“I am glad we met,” Efraín told Ken. “You are a bombón, and so is your friend.”
“Bombón? What’s that? I’ve never heard that word before.”
Efraín smiled. “It means a very sexy m
an.”
“I see. Well, it describes you perfectly too,”
“Thank you. If you ever come back this way, make sure you look me up,” Efraín said. “You can stay overnight at the ranch. More than one night, I hope.”
“And if you ever travel north of the border, you’ve got a place to stay with me.”
As they parted, Efraín shook first Ken’s hand, then Rick’s, now bidding Ken farewell with a polite formality that struck Ken as slightly incongruous, given the circumstances. After all, Efraín had just fucked him silly. No doubt the Mexican thought he had to be circumspect for Rick’s sake.
But Rick also seemed to find the situation amusing. After Efraín had gone and they were breaking camp and loading the pickup, Rick kept smirking to himself.
“Shut up,” Ken finally said.
“I didn’t say a word,” Rick protested.
“Yeah, but you were thinking a blue streak.”
“I’m sorry to have broken up the budding bromance,” Rick said as he and Ken got into the pickup and drove off.
Still savoring the afterglow of sex, Ken was invulnerable to needling. He smiled sweetly. “Sometimes chance encounters like that can be among the best ones.”
“I wouldn’t be in any position to know. That Efraín did seem to be a nice guy, though.”
“He was.”
“Come on, tell me. Did you really make out with him?”
“Make out? Hell. We fucked like jackrabbits,” Ken bragged. “The bed of his truck was a-rocking. The earth moved.”
“You’re kidding me, Ken, aren’t you? You didn’t really have sex with that cowboy, did you?”
“Ask my pucker, man. It’s still throbbing from the way Efraín reamed it out.” Ken looked at Rick, and smiled. “You aren’t jealous, are you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t blame you for getting your rocks off. I just can’t believe I slept through the whole thing.”
“You were out, all right.”
“The next time, you’re going to have to wake me up so I can watch.”
Ken found it interesting that Rick seemed to take for granted there would be a next time. “The next time, you’re going to have to join in.”
“Whoa. I hadn’t thought quite that far ahead. I’ll have to give that some thought. Let’s not go too far too fast, okay?”
“Okay.” Ken settled back in his seat and concentrated on his driving.
They talked about inconsequential things, mostly commenting on the scenery they passed. It was after a lull in the conversation that Rick finally spoke the three words Ken had been expecting to hear all along.
“About last night….”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“You don’t think I, ah, took advantage of you, do you?”
This was about the last thing Ken had anticipated hearing. He burst out laughing. “No, not at all.”
“I can’t help thinking that I sort of used you to get off.”
“Efraín more than made up for it. I will say for future reference that when a guy helps you out—you know, gives you a hand job or a blow job—it’s usually considered polite to offer to reciprocate.”
“Sorry. I hadn’t thought of that. I think my mind was kind of befuddled by horniness last night.”
“No problem. I really liked giving you that hand job. I loved helping you come.”
“What a thing to say.”
“Why? Why should we be embarrassed to talk about it? We enjoyed that soak in the hot spring yesterday, didn’t we?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I certainly enjoyed what went on in the tent last night, and I’m pretty sure you did, too.”
“You don’t hear me denying it.”
“And I enjoyed what Efraín and I did. Just like I’m enjoying driving along and talking to you now.”
“Wait a minute. Are you equating carrying on a conversation with me to having sex with Efraín? If you are, I’m flattered.”
“It’s not like I’m assigning a separate value to every individual item. It’s all part of the Baja experience.”
“You have a remarkably freewheeling attitude toward everything.”
“I try to. Isn’t that the reason we decided to make this trip in the first place—to get away from the routine and the hassles back home and experience new things?”
“Once again, you aren’t going to get any argument from me.”
“Good. Now, break out the map and let’s take a look at coming attractions.”
Rick scrutinized the map. “We’ve gotten a nice early start,” he reported. “Despite whatever pre-dawn diversions we may have indulged in, either together or separately. In fact, we’re a couple of days ahead of schedule. At this rate, we should be able to reach the tip of the peninsula by this afternoon. According to the map, there are some nice campgrounds in the area. We can either check them out or try to find a decent motel.”
“What’s the matter? Are you getting tired of sharing your sleeping bag with me?”
“Not yet. But I am starting to miss some of the amenities of civilization, such as indoor plumbing and hot running water. I’m looking forward to the hotel in Cabo San Lucas. I’d better call them to confirm our reservation one more time, just to be on the safe side. We want to be sure we’ll have a bed waiting for us, when we want to take advantage of it.”
It seemed odd to see Rick rummage around in his bag in search of his cell phone, and then use it. After Rick concluded his brief conversation with the desk clerk at the hotel, Ken pointed out that this was the first time either of them had used his phone on the trip.
“And now I’m going to turn it off and put it away again,” Rick declared.
On the way back toward the town of Agua Caliente, they passed a herd of cattle in the road. The animals trudged along slowly, but they still managed to stir up a cloud of dust. Ken tapped the horn and waved to the two young cowboys on horseback who were in charge of the beasts, and the cowboys waved back. Ken wondered whether either of these guys could be Efraín’s lover.
“Down, boy,” Rick warned, although he, too, waved at the Mexicans.
“I’m just trying to be friendly. You know, get to know the locals and do my part to foster international relations.”
“Yeah. International carnal relations. Try to keep it in your pants at least until we get to Cabo. You’ll be able to exercise your charm there not only on the locals, but on an assortment of tourists from all over the world.”
“Sounds exciting. I can’t wait.”
Soon they were back on Highway 1, headed south toward San José del Cabo. Since they were so far ahead of schedule, they took a leisurely detour to visit a pair of towns with the uplifting names of Milagros and Los Santos. It was still too early for most of the shops in Milagros to be open, although they did pass a quaint-looking adobe coffee house with a grape arbor covering its patio area out front. A couple of the patrons had their laptop computers open as they drank their morning coffee. This place seemed surprisingly metropolitan for such a sleepy little town near the tip of the Baja peninsula. They might almost have been back home in Culver City. They drove through the town, idly checking it out, and then went back out to the highway without stopping.
Los Santos seemed livelier, if only because they arrived there later in the morning, shortly before noon. By then, the town’s inhabitants were stirring, and there was a good deal of activity on the streets and sidewalks.
They had lunch at a pleasant hole-in-the-wall restaurant that was highly recommended by Rick’s guidebook. There was a tiny indoor dining area, but Ken and Rick opted for the slightly larger outdoor patio space, which was protected from the sunlight by a pergola constructed of rough-hewn wooden beams. Bougainvillea vines, laden with dense masses of purplish-red flowers, clambered up the supports of the pergola to form a protective cloud of blossoms overhead. Their waiter was friendly, and the food was excellent. They ate tortillas filled with smoked chicken fajitas, and an egg dish called papadzul. All
this was washed down with mojitos followed by cups of strong, aromatic coffee.
As they finished their meal, the owner came over to their table and chatted for a while. He admitted that things tended to be slow at this time of year and that the majority of his business came during the winter, in the form of tour buses stopping by. Then, he was often so busy that he had to set out extra tables outside. He was very pleasant and wished them well on the rest of their travels in Baja. Then he excused himself and went to busy himself again in the kitchen.
“It’s decision time,” Rick said as they paid their bill. “Maybe we can find a motel room in one of these little towns. Or we could look at the campgrounds.”
“You decide. I’m easy.”
“Yeah, I know you are,” Rick retorted. “Personally, I don’t mind roughing it for the next couple of nights, if you don’t mind. I’ve gotten kind of used to the outdoors.”
“So have I.”
Driving down the narrow streets, Rick and Ken next found a little supermarket, where they were able to purchase some frozen fish fillets, which could be allowed to defrost naturally so that they would be ready for cooking in time for dinner later in the day.
After leaving the town, they continued along the coast. Late in the afternoon, they found a small, out-of-the-way campground that had well-maintained beach palapas and huts. It was separated from the noise of traffic on the highway by a large hill. The only disadvantages were that there were several other groups already using the campground and that they had to pay a fee. Ken and Rick had been spoiled during most of their trip, and now even the presence of one or two other campers nearby made the beach seem crowded. Philosophically, however, they reasoned that having neighbors would be a fair trade-off for not being kept awake during the night by the rumble of passing semitrucks.
They changed into their swimsuits and headed for the water. The afternoon winds were picking up, but Rick and Ken defied the wind and waves, getting thoroughly soaked. The water, though refreshing, couldn’t exactly be described as warm, so they eventually got out and devoted the rest of the afternoon to hanging out on the beach and relaxing.
Baja Honeymoon Page 16
