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No sex in Mexico - sex story


No sex in Mexico


I spend a want not holiday in Mexico for two weeks. A friend of mine
and I had left our dull routine in Southern California, and headed
down to the border. It took sixteen hours to get to.

"Why did we leave again?" I wasn't too sure about this when we
left.

"Because it's Mexico and we weren't going anywhere back there."

"And what's in Mexico?" She had told what's in Mexico many, many
times. It's been said repeat something enough, it'll come true.

"It's dusty, dry and dirty. It's got tequilla, locals, coyotes. It's
close to the U.S., it's a stop to Columbia, and it's got personal
locals." She's gotten it down. She doesn't need to wrack her brain for
these facts, these might as well be tattooed on her back. We spent
most of the time in silence. I'd ask her to repeat these to me every
so often, and she'd get frisky and flirtacious and goofy, then blank
out, and let her brain talk for a while. I liked her.

The border was easy to pass. 2 passports, 35 dollars and letting what
the cop say what he had to say. "Business or pleasure?" "Pleasure."
"Where ya headed?" "Tijuauna." Some more stupid questions about fruit
and dogs and large amounts of cash. All no. He shruged, we paid, he
gave us our passports, and we drove off. There was the local border
town, with lot of hotels and gift shops and the dazzly tourist traps,
with all the bars in the hotels. We only stopped for a quick lunch,
gas and directions from helpful old men on rocking chairs. From what I
remember, the road to San Jose, pop. 35 give or take, wasn't that much
of a road. It was the just the hardened earth, expect no plants grew
on it, and there were some tire treads barely scarring the path. It
was a short ride, really. Only an hour or so into town. No bar, but a
vacancy sign on one of the four two story buildings gathered around
the corner of 1st and Main. Parking was behind the vagrants motel.

We pulled out our suitcases and walked inside. Room for two, yes, we
don't know how long, no, a couple days, I imagine. 15 bucks a night,
American, no maid service, you must clean, no restaurant, but diner
across the street open early, close late, very good food. Check it
out.

Amanda, my friend by the way, gave me her suitcase and told me she'd
meet me in the room. Running to the store real quick. Okay, I said,
and went upstairs. Amanda came back when I was done unpacking with a
paper sack in her hand, and beaming smile on her face.

"There's no bar in town, but the local store sells liquor!" She
laughed. "2 bucks a bottle, Rich! 2 bucks! Can you imagine that?" I
just shook my head, dumbly. "That's neat. I take it we're getting
drunk." "Rich! Yes, of course! That's what we're here for!" She became
perky nonstop sense we got into San Jose. America was boring, that
border town was an insult and the desert was boring all over again.
San Jose, however was good ol' Mexico, her livelong
dream.

"I also got some lemons," she said. "Bit of a chaser." I normally
didn't drink tequilla, and thought it was disgusting, but she
insisted, reminding me of some things she didn't like we did, but grew
to like it. "And besides," she said, whispering in my ear, "I've
always wanted to get piss drunk and fuck." She handed me a full shot
glass, and put a lemon in her mouth and held out a hand with a line of
salt licked on. I complied. Yes, the tequilla was gross, but I think
the body shots made up for it. I had some, she had more and we woke up
12 hours later naked and sticky, with her body half off the bed and
our legs tangled together. It was now 6pm, and we were both too
hungover to eat right away. Two hours later, asprin and some time
spent hugging the bowl, and we we hungry. We showered, dressed and and
considered staying in a little whiler longer, now that we both smelled
nice and looked better, but we were more hungry than horny.

The restaurant was a greasy spoon, and the smell made my heart cramp.
We ate anyhow, seeing how alternatives were slim. She had a burrito,
stuffed high with rice, beef, cheese, lettuce and onions and I had the
same. They were greasy, but man were they good. We ate fast and
nosily, each one of us managing to choke on a unchewed size swallow
too soon. People stared at us, some mildy amused, some angry for some
reason, and some embarassed for us. We didn't care and suck down beers
to help it down faster. I doubt we pay much attention to them, I a
little longer than Amanda. And she only took notice briefly when I
mentioned it as she dragged me out, back to the motel. Again, she
broke out the shotglasses and lime and salt and poured out the
tequilla, this time lining up five glasses apart. She said it's a
race, and the winner gets a slave for an hour, and winked. I won, only
because the second shot made her dizzy and toppled off the bed. I took
my oppurtunity and ran with it. I don't remember what I told her to
do, but she
took it in good graces, and seemed to enjoy it almost. She won easily
the second time, and I spent the next hour on my hands and knees a
lot. I puked, so did she and I believe we passed out soon after that,
but I could've been mistaken. We did this for two weeks, on and off.
When we were on, days at a time were spent going nowhere, just
drinking and fucking. Games were few, and it was nasty in there. She
has a couple permanent scars on her back and other places and I had
some on the inside of my legs and a small one on my penis. After three
days at the most, we'd break from the that routine and eat like
maniacs, filling
our empty and lean bodies. We got skinner everyday, but got stronger
as well. I was lean to begin with, but I looked like a freak when we
left, but I could pick up Amanda over my head. She loved that.

Somewhere down the line, we fell in love, but not the fairy book kind,
but a throbbing lust kinda way. Of course, we didn't fuck all the
time. Right before going to bed, and shortly after waking up, we had
our little talks, from the shallow to the deep. Myself, I liked the
deep, but sometimes, Amanda was stuck on commenting on me and my
little quirks she thought was cute. Pretty soon, the money ran out,
and I'm pretty sure we wore out our welcome. It didn't matter, though.
I had my fill of tequilla, and Amanda was anxious to get home. She was
excited to move in with me, for some reason. I was happy, don't get me
wrong.

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