The long hot days of boredom spent inside thick masonry walls felt too much like a Texas state prison. Our three day delay turned into a week, then ten days. Some Mexican provincial judge was holding up our construction permit, the company wasn’t willing to meet his bribe demands, I guess. Anyway, we were four gringos stuck in this coastal town that never heard of air conditioning and had damn little refrigeration. Our own money ran thin pretty quick, mostly lost in the casino to a crooked wheel and a cheating blackjack dealer. We ran a tab for the hotel bill and food. The company better come up with some paychecks pretty soon or we were gonna get tossed out of here. Nobody was in a good mood, but nobody was pissed. It was just too damn hot to get mad. Afternoons, the whole town shut down. Siesta time was a necessity, to survive the tropical sun. We got put out of the dining room and headed back up to our room. Pretty big room for a cheap hotel. Two wide sagging beds and a little balcony overlooking the back courtyard and a private bathroom with a giant tub. No hot water, of course, who needed it in this heat? We began stripping off wet shirts before we even got inside. Farley was from Utah, the heat was worse on him. He dropped his pants and kicked them off while I unlocked the door. We didn’t have much modesty left after ten days of being cooped up in this oven. First few days, we all kept our pants on in daylight. Davis and Logan even slept in their pants a couple of nights, because we had to share beds and nobody really knew each other. The heat melted all pretense of privacy and now clothing was an irritant, a sweat collector. White boxer shorts were the uniform of the day, less on the darkest nights. Again, just like prison. Davis had a deck of faded limp cards, he and Logan went right back to their continuous game of rummy. Farley sat on our bed and fiddled with the little plastic radio that leaked thin Latin music and a chatter of crackling static. The balcony was my retreat, shaded by a sagging canvas awning and catching what little breeze came in from the Pacific, a half mile away. I liked the view of the courtyard, below. Often just watched the hotel workers dragging through their chores, or I could look right into several windows and open doors, try and figure out the balance of various relationships between my observed subjects. Kind of like TV, or live theater, but carried on in a language I hardly understood. I knew the thick bodied woman in the corner room on our floor had a different man in her room every day for siesta. Not hard to figure out what her plot line was. There was a young man who cleaned out the kitchen after meals, right under our room. His name was Ruis, I heard somebody call to him and remembered. He seemed more animated and cheerful that most of the staff. He usually napped on the bench in the shade of my balcony during the afternoons. He’d take off his shirt and unbutton the top of his white pants and lay back with arms behind his head. Funny, I had three almost naked men in my room and yet I got a kick out of spying on this boy in his thin white trousers. His chest was burnt deep mahogany but where his pants gapped a narrow vee, a stream of black hairs disappeared into a surprisingly pale skinned cavern. I built fantasies about his possible ivory buttocks and the long firm ridge that sometimes swelled his fly. I secretly anticipated the day when his pants might open an inch more and the hard, sleeping tool might manage to peep out at the vee and show it’s dark hooded head. Farley came out beside me, dragging a blanket. “Move your chair and let’s spread this and nap outside, maybe catch a breeze, huh?” “Yeah, sure.” The balcony was small, maybe smaller than our bed. I wondered if he realized how close we’d be laying. He was always reserved and closed. If my arm or leg touched him during the night, he moved quickly away. As an interested observer of the male animal, I’d been noticing how Davis and Logan, both obviously unimaginative and narrow minded in their choice of sexual objects, were completely at ease with their bodies and each other. I’d often seen them sleeping in close contact, a couple of times Logan’s head rested in the hollow of Davis’ shoulder. They stripped off shorts and slept hip to naked hip, compared morning hard-ons with a grin and a joke like innocent boys. Yet Farley was not so relaxed, possibly because he sensed my androgyny? Was it me made him conscious of his privacy? Heat and constant exposure were eroding whatever barricades he had left. I made it a point to never threaten him with a stare or an interested glance. I avoided the touch of skin he found repellent. And so, the balcony being narrow, I stretched out beside his recumbent figure and lay face down, a bare half inch separating our thighs and damp shorts. Farley pillowed his head on raised arms, just like Ruis below us. With a turn of my face, I could look down on Ruis or to the side at my bed companion. Both of them beautiful young men and delicious to observe, both protected from my actual touch and my secret lust. Ruis, safe behind the distance of a cultural gulf and a gap of language; Farley, secured behind his reserve and his declared isolation. Davis and Logan deserted their card game, sprawled on their bed in a harmony of muted snores. I could feel the entire town slow and pause, wait for the sun’s bright zenith to dim. I may be the only waking mind for miles, I pondered. My thoughts the only disturbance to ripple the thick air of glittering sun and enveloping shade. Ruis entered quickly into his erotic dream scape and the now familiar ridge grew to form a network of wrinkles fanning outward from it’s hard length. Each breath he took, each easy swell of his chest, gave a slightly wider hint of the pale skin below his open waist. Beside me, Farley’s sheen of perspiration soaked his underwear and made the thin fabric translucent. The shadow of his dark pubic bush was clearly apparent, the shape of soft cock and circumcised head were only slightly blurred by moist cotton. His eye lids fluttered, in dreams or in near wakefulness, I couldn’t say. The sweat beneath my chest ran in trickles, I raised to a propped up elbow to let air vent the heated skin. Farley stirred. The hair along his thigh tickled mine, his legs moved apart a spare inch. I could almost see the heat between his thighs push them apart. His face twitched, his leg pressed against me, unconscious. I turned more on my side, to open the space between us, again. He was dreaming, I could watch his eyes dart beneath the thin lids, the rapid movement that scientist associate with dream state. In a fascinating, slow motion ballet, his cock uncurled, lengthened down the inside leg and lifted the milky fabric. I was entranced. A nerve pulsed in his throat, a jaw muscle clenched. His cock fought the light restriction, reared to the side in a mild thrust and the depression of the single eye pressed tight on the high curve of helmet shape. His chest rippled with a rhythmic rise and ebb, droplets of sweat ran in sparkling trails down the sprawl of clinging hairs to spill into the cup of upturned arm pit, to the tangle of black curls and pale skin. His cock seeped a drop of moisture, a tear that penetrated the cotton and beaded, exposed and naked. The shaft lurched, again, shifted and pulsed in a seductive demand. My own shorts bulged towards it, like a magnetic attraction. My lap sprung a tented pole that reached longingly across the narrow gap between us. With just a slight movement of my hips, I let my extension touch his bare thigh. The brush of sensitive tip was exquisite. His leg seemed to be pressed outward, now, by his stiff cock. He moved firmly against me, giving a satisfying press to my throbbing member. More stimulation than I could maintain, I crushed my cock beneath me, let my leg push back on his, turned my face from the vision of denied pleasures ... and gasped a muted sob. Below me, Ruis’ pants had slipped another button and his brown hard dick lay centered in the exposed notch, reaching almost to his navel. I squeezed my eyes shut, the wished for sight was too much, too painfully stirring. I rose quickly from my narrow pallet and glanced back only once at the figure of Farley in his aroused state. I must get to the tub, a cool shower of water, a drench of reality. I held my erection against my belly as I passed close by the bed where Davis and Logan snored. Another image I did not need to have revealed. Logan slept with his head in the bend of Davis’ elbow. His leg was crossed over his friend’s at the ankle and the back of his out flung hand rested in the lap of white shorts, unbuttoned, with Davis’ reddened dick twitching at his fingertips. Their faces hidden in sleep, bodies searched for unspoken pleasures and release. I crept on toward the tiled bathroom, stripped off my wet shorts and stepped under the lukewarm sprinkle of a rusted shower. Rather than relieve me, the water caressed me, ran fingers down my body. I lifted my face to the drizzle and grasped my cock in a tight fist, beat a frenzied, nerve jangled climax to the over stimulated organ and swayed my thrusting pelvis against air and fantasy. Still gasping, I turned, reached for the towel, caught Logan’s eyes in a startled shock of circles of white around his brown pupils. His cock, still gripped in his fist, spilled a dripping deluge of thick cum, gilting his fingers, his wrist, still spilling to the dark red tile floor. Our eyes locked in a panic bolt! Then smiles of embarrassment and confusion relaxed us. No words seemed to meet the situation. I turned my naked body fully to him and used my hand to sluice down the white residue that clung to my belly and thigh, let him watch the evidence of our conspiracy rinse away. I stepped out of the big tub, onto the tile beside him to dry off. He still clutched his juice coated dick . I looked down at it, then back at his still uncertain eyes. “Next for a shower? It’s little enough relief from all this heat, but better than nothing. Davis still asleep?” “Yeah, he sleeps like a log. I woke with a dream, had to get up.” “Farley was sleeping, too. But I was too hot to sleep, needed some .. relief.” “Know what you mean, exactly.” He grinned. “I better wash off.” I dried off as he dropped his shorts and stepped into the tub. I watched him a while, and his face acknowledged my inspection with approval. The heat, it was the heat melting away all reservations. On the following day, during lunch, Ruis came into the dining room and began clearing tables. We lingered, as usual, always the last patrons to leave. I thought the boy stared at me, but his eyes flicked away whenever I looked up. I went over to the side buffet near him, to refill my iced lemonade. He was aware. His eyes checked the table to see if any of my friends watched before he gave me a full smile and touched the buttons on his fly. Why, the sly devil, I thought, he knew I watched him nap. His face was always turned up to my balcony but I had mistaken a dumb innocence in him. I smiled back, spoke low. “Gracias, Ruis. Si, quatro, por favor?” I fished a folded peso note from my pocket and passed it discreetly to him. He grinned and whispered, “Four buttons, today.” “Englais? I mean, you speak English?” Logan had noted our low conversation. I raised my voice to more public level, “I didn’t think anyone here spoke English, I’m surprised.” “I come from El Norte Valley, the border. I work job in Texas, for rich man. Small English, I get.” From up close, Ruis was older than I thought. Not a boy, a young man of his twenties. His small bone build, his delicate heart shaped face were much like a boy, but the black eyes were worldly, mature. Tiny fissures of lines radiated from their outer corners. “We’re waiting for mail from California. Paychecks, payday? Comprende?” “Si, yes, you wait.” “The owner, senor Montez, I don’t think he understands. Will you ask him if we have any mail, any English letters?” Ruis raised an eyebrow. “Have you ask at the bank? For a letter of transfer?” “No, we didn’t check with the bank. We don’t speak your language, it is a problem.” “Montez, he say you have no money, he want to send you all away.” “Yes, we noticed his disapproval, in any language. Can you ask around for us?” “I will help you. I speak to the bank. You will have much money, then?” His smile was hopeful. “Yes, with our paychecks, we will have lots of money to pay our bill. And I will have money to give you, for your help. And money for beer and music and laughter. Please help us.” “Sure, no problemo!”, his wide grin was very American, in that it needed no translation. He was suddenly beautiful. He glanced around at my friends, all listening to our exchange, so he whispered in parting, “Quatro, for you. Today.” I wanted to protest, I wanted him to skip the siesta, go to the bank, the post office, whatever, but I realized they were all closed. All the town shut down and wouldn’t reopen until late afternoon. R uis took a full tray of dishes to the kitchen, I joined the guys, now leaving the dining room. “Carson, do you think the kid can find out anything?” Logan dropped back to walk beside me. “Donno, but worth a shot. I was sure they would send the money to the hotel. I’ve been thinking Montez may be sitting on it. There’s a phone in the police station. The boss used it before he left. Tomorrow, I’m calling LA. This game is running out. Where’s the nearest American consulate, we may need to get help to get home.” “Down in Acapulco, I guess. Not too far, we could catch a ride on one of the farm trucks. I still have a few bucks stashed back, don’t tell Davis. I told him I was broke. He just gambles it all away.” “Yeah, got you.” We’d come to the room and the daily schedule had Farley yawning. Cooler, I thought. More breeze stirring. High clouds dusted the sky, but still hot. Boots hit the floor and shirts scattered, floating to chairs. Four zippers purred and pants dropped. The sights and sounds of imminent sexual encounters played false on my ears, stirred fancy and dreams. Logan kicked off his shorts, too, with a flicker of eye contact with me. The last bastions of social reserve were crumbling. Davis followed Logan’s lead, his moist boxers tossed to the floor. They lay naked across the bed and Logan shuffled the cards. Who was I to pretend a modesty? I hung my shorts on the rail at the foot of the bed. Even Farley, with a glance around, sighed and shed his sticky underwear. He yawned, again, and flopped on the bed, belly down, legs spread wide. A new image for my fantasies. Logan glanced up and grinned at me. I shook my head in a resigned, slow regret. I stayed at the foot of the bed, at a loss for movement. That I stared at Farley’s ass was no longer a thing to hide. I rather, invited intrusion into my private thoughts. “Hey, Carson. Come on, sit in on a hand of stud poker. We’re pretty sick of gin.” Davis’ expression was understanding, compassionate. I glanced back once at the haunting vista of fat nut sac pressed below a dark hollow of desire, then dragged a straight back chair to the side of their bed. “Sure, deal me in.” I sat down, legs spread wide. My cock plumped with a semi-erection. Davis, too, was stirred. He looked past my shoulder at the display of Farley’s ass, muttered low, “He don’t realize ...?” “Deal!”, it was Logan. Jealous? I wondered. “We may all need a cool shower, today”, I glanced at Logan. Received a tight grin. “What’s the stakes?”, I asked Davis. “It’s a bit late for strip poker.” He leered, “We could play penalty poker, loser kisses the winner’s ass.” His cock twitched, jumped to full erection. Mine caught the scent of lust, extended and lifted between my legs. Logan, too. We each glanced at the others, no shyness left about our close examination. They didn’t break into juvenile jokes or embarrassed laughter. Logan was first to fondle himself, spread his legs and begin a stroking, serious masturbation. Davis and me followed, both watching Logan flush with pink up his chest, his nipples stiffened and tightened. The two men locked their eyes together and Logan licked his lips, his breath quickened. They were like lovers, just finding the other, ready to embrace. I was an interloper, an intrusion. I stood, “I need some air.” Davis colored with shame, he glanced across at Farley, still and sleeping, then he looked into my face, seeking accusation, judgment. “I wish I were you.” I said, gave him the approval, the nod. He almost leapt across the bed to Logan. I couldn’t watch, I caught up my shorts as I passed the bed and stepped out onto the balcony with the small cover at my crotch. The clouds were smothering the bright sun, a gray mist hung off to the west. I’d not seen rain since we’d been here. Ruis was dragging a bag of garbage to the alley. He looked up and saw me, waved. I lifted a hand in return. He looked back, a longer gaze. He just noted my shorts wadded at my cock, I thought. He smiled. Maybe laughed. I watched him dash back inside the kitchen, in a few minutes he was sweeping out the last of the dirt, brushing off the entryway. He looked up and held an outstretched finger. “Uno momento.” I read his lips. He went back inside, to finish whatever tasks he was assigned. When he came out, again, his apron was gone and he stripped his tee shirt over his head. I felt the first drops of rain as he began unbuttoning his waistband. He looked at the sky, startled, then at me disappointed that our game was delayed. I moved my shorts to the side, exposed my still rampant cock. His face went slack, lips open. Rain drops hit the dust around him. I cupped my hand, wriggled my fingers in a beckoning motion. He leapt for the kitchen. I stepped back into the room, Davis and Logan were entwined, oblivious to any onlookers. Davis still plastered to Logan’s ass by post coital adhesion. They faced away, seemed drugged, inert. Farley still lay in the middle of our bed. I went to the door and opened it just as Ruis topped the stairs. He slipped inside the dim room reaching for, finding my cock. I drew his shoulders to me, his chest to my chest and kissed him, melted into that cauldron of lustful entreaty. I drew him to the warm wooden floor, between the beds, in front of the balcony doors. Cool moist air caressed us. His pants melted away, effortlessly, his brown hard cock writhed in my grip and his ass was a fine, ripe melon of sweet pulp and sticky wet delight. His mouth eagerly traversed my belly in a downward journey. I raised to my knees, he, prone and worshipful .. sucked masterfully. Pawed my thighs and hips, fondled my tight filled balls. I arched my neck up in a vast intake of gasped breath. They watched, all my room-mates. Davis and Logan lay facing us with hands exploring their bodies, kisses falling to any available skin. Farley was raised to his elbows, slack jawed at the pageant of sexual fury. I leaned forward to grapple the twin mounds of pale flesh below Ruis’ shining back. He moaned as I gripped the ass tighter and forced my cock deep into his throat, burying my root to his spread lips. Aw! Enough of stimulation, I needed release! With an unaccustomed rough manner, I pulled the boy’s face from me and shoved him around, lifted that tempestuous butt to my lips and drooled copious wet kisses down the hot crack, inserted a finger and probed for elasticity, moisture, the thrill of making him squirm. His whimpered gasps became words, “Aye, yes, Si, si .. ‘ favor, please!” I penetrated him in a single thrust, a brutal shove that entered, seared it’s way to the bottom, slapped my balls, “splat!”, against his ass. “Ayeee, ahh!” His knees split wide, his pelvis jerked back against me, ramming for the intense impalement. How long had the boy hungered for this? Was he as pent with need as me? Up, I raised up on my stroke, backed my hips away and slammed back inside! He went forward , almost fell on his chest, his sweat slick palms keening on the wooden floor. I had no spare emotion for his comfort, I was driven, obsessed. I slammed the rhythm in a powerful bucking and searing crescendo. One thought, one need, one reason for my heart to beat! Lungs hurt from the dry gasps, sweat leapt from my hair with the whip of my head, my spine coursed with twisted muscles, gnarled with sprung tension. Rain spit at me on the gusts of storm winds, thunder rolled in deep grumbling threats! Face lifted and grimaced above my writhing, aching shoulders, I spasmed with a chilling shiver, a floodgate burst, a canon shot, exploded from my innards! “Aawwah! Awe!”, I panted, a total frame shaking release, “God, yes, oh.” Little ripples of pleasure followed, echoes of eruption. Muscles quivered in weak chills. I couldn’t stay upright. I clasped one arm under Ruis’ dripping chest, the other hand cupped his sticky and still spewing cock. I fell sideways, rolling him up and onto my body. His arms flayed out, his face turned against my throat. We melted, flowed into the afterburner of expended exertion. We lay in the path of sweeping rain, we were lit by flashes of strobic lightening. Rain on metal and tile and hard stucco roared like the sound in my ears, muffled the outside world. We were world enough. Someone spread a blanket over us, dried my face. “Up, come on. Get him on the bed. You’ll sleep a while.” It was Farley. He lifted Ruis like a child, wrapped in the blanket, laid him on our bed. The boy was exhausted, near unconscious. I climbed up to curl against him. Tender, now that my lust was sated. Sated and loosed from it’s secret cavern. Farley could hate me, I thought, for exposing him to this rampage of the flesh. But when he had shut and latched the balcony doors, he came to lay by me, reached an arm across me to touch Ruis’ shoulder. I drifted off. The engineering crew hit town next day. A new superintendent passed out back wages. The project had a big time “Go”. We moved off to the beach location by truck, set up a tent camp. Davis and Logan bunked in with the new guys. Farley stayed with me in a small, private tent. Ruis came with us. He’s with me, still. ..................................................
