by Lou Cameron
The guy over there tried to move the woman on to the mattress. But she suddenly pulled coyly away and turned from him, facing the window stark and spectacular for a moment as the candlelight illuminated her heroic breasts from below. And then the dirty teasing bitch leaned forward and snuffed out the light.
“You did that on purpose,” Captain Gringo muttered with a wry grin. He knew the joke was on him and anyone else peeking out of other windows, and what the hell, it sure paid to advertise.
He was about to move back from the window when he heard heel clicks from below. He craned for a better view of the street. It was the whore he’d seen before. She was walking back to the doorway he’d last spotted her in. As she lit a cigarette and lounged against the jamb, he glanced over at the now-dark window across the way and thought, “No, nobody is that fast.” So the woman across the way was somebody else. He felt a wry satisfaction in having his worldly judgment confirmed. He’d thought the one across the way moved pretty slow for a streetwalker.
He tried to judge the time the one down there in the doorway had been gone. He gave it up as a pointless exercise. At the most optimistic, it had been maybe ten minutes from the moment some poor hard-up bastard had spoken to her in the doorway until she was fully dressed and back there waiting for the next. It didn’t matter what she looked like. A gal in that much of a hurry wasn’t selling mock romance. She was asking guys to pay for downright hostility!
A couple of guys walked down the street going the other way. The whore called out to them softly, and they didn’t glance her way. Captain Gringo noticed they didn’t glance toward the hotel entrance either. He decided to write them off as a couple of guys heading for the cantina.
He was about to go back to the bed and warm his chilled hide when he heard the soft snick of a key turning ever so gently in a lock. His lock!
He moved quietly on the balls of his bare feet, heart pounding as he cursed himself for leaving the gun under the mattress a million miles away on the far side of the door. He knew the door hinges were on his side. He flattened against the wall just as the door began to open, slowly and ever so quietly. The party on the other side wasn’t packing a light. So they were both playing kitty cat and Captain Gringo had at least the advantage of eyes accustomed to the dark and a knowledge of the layout. He knew where he was. The other probably thought he was in the bed. From there on, things went rapidly downhill. The other probably had the only gun in the game.
Captain Gringo tensed to spring as the mysterious intruder moved into the room. He could see only that it was somebody a lot shorter than himself, and probably alone. To make sure of this, he let the intruder clear the door, then slammed it shut as he dove forward. He crashed into the dark figure and his momentum carried them both over to and across the empty bed, with Captain Gringo on top and groping for wrists and/or weapons as they crashed down together. The whoever gasped in surprise and fear as he got the right wrist and twisted it up into the small of his victim’s back, using his superior weight to pin whomsoever down. He got his other hand against the nape of a neck and shoved his victim’s face into the mattress as, at the same time, he became aware that it seemed to be wearing a skirt and that his nude pelvis had the other’s hips pinned against the edge of the bed with its knees on the rug and one round hemisphere of buttock on either side of his semi-erection.
He growled, “¿Quien es?” as the obviously female derrière gripped his growing interest between cloth-covered trembling fanny muscles. She answered, face buried in the mattress, “Have you gone mad, señor? It is I, Vanessa.”
He had no idea who on earth Vanessa might be, but he allowed her to raise her head from the mattress enough to breathe freely and speak more clearly. So naturally she said something dumb like, “Let me go. You are hurting me.”
The hard-on between her cheeks didn’t seem to bother her all that much, so he stayed put but eased off the pressure on her elbow as he said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Vanessa. But I don’t remember ringing for room service.”
“I was afraid you might be cold, señor. I only came for to see if I could make you more comfortable.”
“With a passkey, in your bare feet? How come you didn’t knock?”
“Please get off me, señor. I did not wish for to disturb other guests and, well, people say wicked things about a woman who knocks on a man’s door late at night. I thought, if you were already asleep, I would simply put the extra covers I brought over you and tiptoe away without disturbing you.”
He moved a naked foot over toward the door and, sure enough, his toes felt the blankets on the rug where she’d dropped them. The new angle to his hips felt interesting as hell, too. She had a really nice little rump and his raging erection was lined up just right, if it hadn’t been for all those clothes she had on. He could feel she had no pantaloons on.
He moved his free hand down to hoist her smooth taffeta skirting as he smiled and said, “Well, as long as you came to comfort me, I wouldn’t want to send you away frustrated.”
As he felt the bareness of her thighs with his own naked legs she gasped and protested, “Oh, señor, I only came for to lay a blanket over you. What kind of a woman do you think I am?”
He replied, “That’s what I’m trying to find out. So far, I like what I feel.”
She struggled, not really too hard, as he got the skirting out from between them, and his turgid member popped into the moistness between her smooth, trembling thighs. He shoved the cloth above her waistline and caressed her firm but feminine rump as he moved his hand down to guide it to glory. She said, “This is most rude of you, señor. I never came here for to be raped.”
He laughed and said, “You don’t have to be so formal, Vanessa. You can call me Ricardo. We both know you’re not being raped.”
Then he had it in position, and as he thrust home with a sigh of pleasure she gasped and bleated, “Oh, Madre de Dios! What are you doing to me if that is not rape?”
“Let’s call it common courtesy, querida. I can see you needed some comforting, too. Your little box is hot and hungry. How long has it been since you’ve had some of this, muchachita?”
She sobbed, face down against the mattress, and thrust her tail bone up to grind it into his belly hairs as she moaned, “Oh, far too long, you lovely brute! Don’t tease me with your questions. Fuck me hard and deep!”
That seemed the most reasonable suggestion he’d heard all evening, so he did his best to oblige. He was already hot as a pistol, so he tried to hold back a bit, not wanting to leave her up in the air by coming too quickly. But apparently that was impossible. Vanessa chewed a mouthful of linen as she hissed like a mountain lion in heat and contracted on his questing shaft with repeated orgasms until, in less than three minutes, he exploded inside her with a pyrotechnic climax of his own.
She said, “Oh, I felt that. Is it all over so soon, alas?”
He said, “Querida, we are just getting started. I haven’t had anything this nice for a month of Sundays and if you weren’t ready to meet your maker you never should have started this.”
She giggled girlishly as he rolled off, turned her on her back, and undressed her, kissing her naked flesh as he exposed it to the cool night air. As his own had been, up to a minute ago, Vanessa’s slightly moist skin was covered with goosebumps to be soothed with warm lips. He nibbled a turgid nipple as he slid the last of her clothing out of the way and cupped her warm mons in his palm. She spread her thighs and crooned, “Oh, stop teasing and do it again, my great German bull.”
He mounted her and started to enjoy a nice old-fashioned rutting before that sank in. Vanessa, whoever the hell she was, made love like a sex-starved mink and kissed like the intake of a blast furnace. He’d told the dried-up old landlady he was a German, now that he thought about it. So Vanessa had to be her chambermaid, maybe her daughter, and just what in the hell had he started? If the old bat who owned the place found out how he’d responded to extra blankets she might act sort of frantic. A guy down her
e had to remember that Hispanics took a pretty narrow view on country matters. There were only supposed to be two kinds of Latin girls. Whores and madonnas. A lot of chambermaids put out, but only on the very sneaky Q.T.
He started to ask her if anyone downstairs knew she was up here with him, but Vanessa wrapped her legs around him and sobbed, “Don’t talk. Screw me. I go crazy so nice when you pound me hard!”
He was feeling crazy so nice, himself, so what the hell. The fat was in the fire and he’d worry about the landlady later. Vanessa’s firm breasts were moist and slippery now, as she slithered them back and forth against his heaving chest and, below the waist, she was moving up to meet him like a Arabian belly dancer in love. Her kissing was more French. She was great at that, too. As he felt her already tight vaginal muscles contracting in another orgasm she managed to somehow get her tongue almost deep enough to make him gag. He sucked it perversely as he shot as deep as he could get inside her. He collapsed atop her, trying for a well-earned rest, but she kept moving, pulsating with insatiable orgasmic desire, and even with no effort on his part, it felt like he was pounding her hot and heavy, so what the hell, in a little while he was.
The next time he came, he gasped, “Hey, time out for a smoke at least.”
“You are not pleased with my body anymore?”
“Your body is just great. My body is about to melt into the mattress. Just give me a chance to get my second wind, querida. You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”
“No, I can stay the night if you wish for it, my Ricardo.”
“I wish for it. You won’t get in trouble downstairs?”
“No. I will tell you a secret now. Nobody else knows I am here. I confess I am a wicked girl. I was hoping you would, ah, trifle with me.”
“Confession is good for the soul and I’m going to trifle you dog style in a minute. But let’s share a smoke, first. You do smoke, don’t you?”
She laughed archly and said, “You smoke what you like and I will smoke what I like.”
He didn’t get it until he stretched an arm out to fumble a cigar and a light from his shirt draped over a nearby chair. That was when he felt her long hair dragging across his overheated belly and as he lit up, back braced against a pillow, Vanessa took his limp shaft between her moist lips and began to “smoke” it.
He lit his Havana Perfecto and took a luxurious drag as he held the match for a moment, gazing fondly down at the woman crouched broadside to him on her knees as she bobbed her head over his supine lap. The little flickering flame was kind to the ivory perfection of her firm nude body. He still had only a hazy idea what she might look like, after exploring her so thoroughly by feel in the dark. So he stared with interest at the profile of the face he’d been kissing hell out of under the cloak of night. Vanessa was Frenching him with enthusiasm and hence didn’t glance his way as he studied her by match light. So, mercifully, she never caught the look of utter dismay in his eyes as he recognized her.
Vanessa wasn’t a young chambermaid working for the old bat who ran the place. Vanessa was the old bat who ran the place!
The match burned his fingers and he shook it out, but not before he’d seen the gray streaks in her hair and the little lines that time’s cruel shark had bitten into her once pretty little face. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he lay there, being sucked off by a woman old enough to be his mother. But he knew he didn’t want her to stop, so what the hell.
He lay in the dark, breathing funny as he smoked his cigar and she smoked him. The sudden surprise had cooled him off a bit and, of course, he’d been partly satisfied to begin with. So it took her longer than usual to erect his monument to Venus to its usual heroic height.
It felt sort of weird as he lolled there like a jaded pasha, enjoying the contrasting pleasures of tobacco and oral sex.
Once the light was out, Vanessa reverted to the harem cutie he’d been playing with in his imagination. Sort of. On the other hand, knowing now that she was an older, albeit salty widow added something to the spice of carefree sex.
In the darkness, Vanessa was saying, “Oh, I have it nice and hard now. But my little pussy is so jealous. She is feeling most left out.”
He reached out to snuff the cigar in an end table ashtray before he groped for her derriere in the darkness and soothed, “We wouldn’t want anyone to feel left out.”
Vanessa gasped in startled pleasure as she realized what the position he was moving them into might mean. She kissed the head of what she held in her hand and purred, “Oh, I was willing to get on top, but if you are really that considerate …” and then she almost shouted, “Oh, Jesus, Maria y Jose!” as he got two fingers in her and began to tongue her clit. She responded in kind by inhaling him to the root as they went sixty-nine, and he could tell she wanted to finish that way this time, so he decided he might as well. It was no more revolting to kiss a friendly twat than those pursed steel-trap lips he remembered shuddering at the first time he’d seen them!
After they’d enjoyed one another that way, and tried it dog style as a change of pace, they naturally wound up old-fashioned in each other’s arms and it only seemed polite to kiss the old bat while she was sobbing about coming some more. It was funny, but with the lights out, her lips did feel as soft and passionate as many a younger girl’s, and it did feel as if she was pretty when they lay quietly together in the lovely afterglow. It was no wonder the poor old bat went around looking so grim. The still healthy woman was starved for sex … or maybe more.
The next time he suggested a smoke she lay quietly with her head on his shoulder and one thigh across his, toying with the hair on his chest with her free hand. As he lit the cigar she ducked her head, kissing his collarbone, and said, “I wish you would tell me when you are going to strike a match. I am ashamed for you to see me like this.”
He ran his own free hand over her soft, smooth skin and soothed, “There’s nothing I could see in the light that I don’t like pretty well in the dark, Vanessa.”
She sighed and said, “You are just being gallant. I know what I look like today. Would you believe me if I told you I was once considered a beautiful woman, Ricardo?”
“You’re still beautiful,” he lied, and for some reason that made the poor old broad start to cry. He didn’t comment as he felt a tear run off her cheek onto his chest. She got a few more out of her system before she said, “Thank you, my caballero. I wanted you so badly. I knew the moment I saw you that you were the kind of lover I need. But I was so afraid you would just be another big naughty boy. I feel so abased when a man I seduce has less tact than you about my, well, age. I wish there was a word less ugly than age. But there is nothing else wrong with me.”
He caressed her and said, “Hell, there’s nothing at all wrong with you. We all have to get older, sooner or later. I think you worry too much about it, Vanessa. What the hell, you can’t be much older than maybe thirty-nine or forty, right?”
“Oh, my God, you’re such a gallant liar, and I needed that. If you must know, I am nearly sixty.”
“I didn’t have to know, and I don’t believe you,” he fibbed kindly. Then he kissed the part in her hair to add, “Let’s forget about birthdays. I have no complaints to register about tonight. I needed you a lot more than you needed me, kitten.”
She giggled, and said, “I know. I felt so awkward, coming in, not knowing how I was going to approach you. And then you leaped on me like a beast and tore my clothes off. It was too good to be true.”
He chuckled back at her and held her closer as he took a drag of smoke. She began to walk her fingers shyly down his belly as she said, “Downstairs, when we were talking about your room earlier, I could see you were a most lusty man. I was happily married for many years to a lusty man. So I can tell when a man needs it. I was so foolish when I flustered around up here before. I wanted so for you to take me in your arms, but of course I knew you thought I was just a silly old woman.”
He said, “As a matter of fact, I no
ticed what a nice shape you had and I was feeling pretty silly, too. It was all I could do not to make a pass at you the moment I found myself alone with you.”
“Oh, Ricardo, is that the truth?”
It wasn’t, but he figured he owed it to her. He said, “Yes, if you hadn’t made a play for me, I’d have made one for you. But let’s not worry about it. Now that we’ve gotten past the awkward stages, we can just enjoy each other.”
“Oh, I am so happy, Ricardo. Are you really going to stay here with me?”
“I paid a month in advance, didn’t I?”
“Yes. But now I will have to give you back your money. It would not be right if I kept it. Only wicked women take money from the man they are sleeping with and—”
“Hey, back up,” he cut in. “I’m not paying you for your body, doll. I only rented the room! I could see right away you were a woman to be respected.”
That made her cry some more. Then she said, “The angels must have sent you to me, Ricardo. Would you believe I have not had any sex for over a year?”
“That sounds reasonable. Uh, how long have you been a widow?”
“Oh, my poor husband died many years ago. But, as you may have guessed, I am a woman of strong passions. I am afraid this has made me act the fool on more than one occasion. You see, I know I should look for a man closer to my own age, but …”
He grimaced and cut in with, “I understand.” She didn’t have to explain why she liked younger studs. Not many teenagers could keep up with old Vanessa as a steady bed-mate. He liked his women hot and horny, but it was probably just as well he wasn’t really intending to stay any back-breaking full month!
She said, “The last time I made a fool of myself like this I swore it would never happen again. I knew what you’d be like in bed the moment I saw you, but you younger men can be so cruel.”