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Are You Available
Mitch
“Are you available?” Chas asked a Linda Darnel look-alike. She was the spitting image of one of the movie star’s Latina characters. Beautiful, bronzed, busty, and draped in a burgundy dress designed to emphasize her figure and draw attention to her cleavage.
Smiling, she took his hand, said, “Sí,” and then led him toward a counter where an older lady was sitting. With only a hint of an accent, the older lady said, “Linda doesn’t speak English well so you need to talk with me. She’s one of our best and costs ten dollars. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” he said, reaching for his wallet.
Chas was in a Juárez bordello, San Miguel’s, with three of his army buddies. It was the middle of February 1953; they had spent the past four weeks training on the M55 mount and the 90-millimeter cannon at Fort Bliss and were enjoying a weekend pass in Mexico. After entering, they had a drink and decided to go their separate ways, find a lady, and meet again about eleven o’clock.
He handed her a ten.
“Follow Linda down the hall. There’s a room where you’ll be checked for VD and given a condom. Kissing is against the rules and Linda’s tatas are off limits. If every Juan who sees her used them, she’d be too sore to work. Is that clear?” she asked sternly, but with an understanding gaze.
With a nod, he returned her look.
“Have a nice time,” she said as he turned.
He was directed to a room where a woman in her sixties or seventies had him drop his khakis. She grabbed his penis with a gloved hand and gave him two quick jerks. He didn’t emit any fluid, indicating he was free of clap. Handing him a condom, she shooed him away.
Linda stood in front of a door and stepped inside as he waddled down the hall, struggling with his pants. Entering the room, Chas saw a flash of red falling to a chair and Linda crawling into a single, metal bed sitting low to the floor. She had a beautiful face, long black hair, light brown skin, dangling mammary glands, pubic hair glistening from recently applied lubricant, and long shapely legs.
She lay with her head on several pillows, her legs bent and spread wide. Chas undressed and rolled the condom the length of his erection. Watching emotionlessly, she gestured and said in heavily accented English, “Come on.”
She wants me to hurry, he thought. For her this was business—for him, however, it was an event he had been looking forward to ever since he had screwed Marti on Christmas in New York.
Crouching between her legs, he advanced toward her slick pussy while devouring her breasts with his eyes—even in the back and down position, they were marvelous. Penetration went smoothly, but before he was fully seated she exploded, moving her body in all directions at the same time. Shocked, Chas had never experienced such motion; he guessed her frenetic actions were an attempt to cause him to cum quickly. The faster he finished, the sooner she could entertain another customer. This method probably worked most of the time because her customers were usually horny, drunk, or both.
Chas hadn’t had a piece of ass in over a month, and he maintained control because there had been no foreplay. Up and down, side to side, back and forth Linda’s cunt gyrated swiftly around his shaft. His full weight settling on her body forced her to slow. Chas rested on his haunches and enjoyed the ride. His long, thick cock was being bombarded beyond belief, but he retained his load, a gift he couldn’t explain.
Linda opened her eyes, astonished because this handsome, muscular, young gringo had her impaled and nearly powerless. His striking features and powerful body gave him an authority that countered her plan.
“Come on!” she commanded.
His body mass caused her to slow further. Looking at him defiantly, she gathered her strength, placed her legs around his waist, and energetically propelled her puka against him. Chas rode her like a bronco buster and beamed at her stunned glare. Finally tired and breathing heavily, she stopped, grabbed him by the ass, and repeated, “Come on.”
As an alpha male, he thwarted her attempt to control him. He dropped to his forearms and rested above her heaving, perspiration-covered breasts. It was his turn. Rocking back and forth inside her slippery channel, he increased his movements until he was firing on all cylinders, like a 50-caliber machine gun. Concentrating and massaging her with long powerful strokes, he stared into her now-accepting eyes and said sarcastically, “Come on.”
She enthusiastically lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. He continued plunging into her. With one last shove that looked and felt like the recoil of a 90-millimeter canon, she climaxed and screamed, “¡Sí! ¡Sí! ¡Sí!”
Chas enjoyed the delicious flow of fluids from his throbbing cock. She sighed and tightened her grip under his continuing spasms. He held her securely and didn’t let go until his secondary eruptions ceased.
“Come on,” she whispered quietly. “Come on. Please?”
His sexual energy spent, he rolled onto his side and she scurried away, leaving behind the odor of sex and a vision of bouncing buns. Who said you could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make a hormone? Apparently he had done just that.
The lady at the desk stopped him as he left. “Linda said you were El Toro in there,” she said with a wise smile and a hint of admiration in her voice. “She suggests you return on a Wednesday or Thursday when she’s less busy. You’ll get a reduced rate and be able to spend more time with her.”
“Please tell her I’ve never had a female so active. Her body and movements gave me great pleasure. She was worth the price.”
“Come again soon,” the madam cooed. “We appreciate your business.”
Chas went to the bar, ordered a Seven and Seven, paid scant attention to the sound of the mariachi band, but he liked the floor show, especially the scantly clad ladies wandering in, around, and between tables.
“Chas!” a loud voice called to him. “Come over here and sit down. We’ve been wondering what happened to you. Did you get laid?” Mark asked.
“I’ve been standing at the bar, sipping my drink and watching the floor show.”
