© Copyright 2004 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior
express written permission of the author.
A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are
not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then
again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you
should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments.
Enjoy.
It seemed to be a good idea -- spend a week vacationing in Mexico while the painters took over my house. It would be warmer, I could work on my book, and I might meet some people, right?
I met them on a sightseeing trip to Chichen Itza, getting on the tour bus at our resort early Tuesday morning. I hadn’t seen the three of them at the resort before, but it’s a big place.
I was sitting alone in a bus seat; two of them behind me, and the third one across the aisle from her friends.
Our tour guide was a character, doing things like pointing to cemeteries by the side of the road and calling out, “Time-share.” He gave us a little of the history of Chichen Itza, the timing for the day, and then told us he’d shut up until we got close to our destination. Smart guy.
The three women behind me jabbered along in Spanish. They were in Cancún unwinding for a week after spending a month in Brazil. Okay, that’s where the occasional Portuguese came from. They were very happy with air conditioning, hot water, being able to wash their hair, dry it, not worry about bugs, leeches, snakes, and lecherous men.
They started gossiping about other people on the bus. They started talking about me, assuming I couldn’t understand them! The one on the other side of the aisle thought I was cute; she liked the way I dressed, the gray streaks in my hair, the silver pony tail tie I used.
They dissed some of the fat pigs they’d seen at the resort. They laughed about one they’d seen by the pool, big belly hanging over a Speedo swimsuit. One of the ones behind me wondered what I’d look like in a swimsuit? She wondered if I was going on the grotto tour Thursday.
I was about to answer affirmatively when the other one behind me wondered aloud if I was available for dinner.
“¿Cuándo?” I replied, “¿Esta noche o mañana?” When? Tonight or tomorrow?
Silence behind me. One of them giggled. “Oops,” said another. They’re only about twenty years younger than me.
I turned around and looked at them. Mid to late twenties, good looking, well tanned.
“Roberto Tomás Serrano, at your service. My friends call me Bob,” I introduced myself.
They exchanged glances. “Gloria,” the one behind me by the window said. “Andrea,” her neighbor told me. “And I’m Kaye,” their younger neighbor across the aisle said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Andrea shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think...”
Kaye interrupted with, “You sure didn’t!”
I laughed, and they laughed along with me.
“Not a problem. I’m from Seattle, which explains the pale skin and moss on one side. But my grandfather fought in the Spanish-American War, for the Spanish, and when it was over, he moved to New Mexico and married a Pueblo Indian Bruja. My dad is the color of mahogany in the middle of winter. His sisters say I look like his father. So what were three lovely ladies such as yourselves doing off in the wilds of Brazil?”
Kaye filled me in. They were grad students and had been on a research trip. Kaye was an ethnobotanist, Andrea the anthropologist, and Gloria the linguist. The seats across from me in the bus were empty; Kaye moved up sitting across from me.
We talked more about the week. I was here to warm up and unwind. They were cooling off and unwinding. Where did they go to school? A small school in Eastern Massachusetts.
What did I do? I told them I was a teacher -- physics, mathematics, and yoga. They thought that was an interesting combination. I told them yoga kept me in balance and in touch with what was important. That got some smiles, and Andrea moved up and sat next to Kaye. Gloria made a noise, got up, picked up my bag from the seat next to me, and took a seat!
She had short, brown hair, brown eyes, and a clear complexion. Some Asian influence? Not a pronounced epicanthal fold, but not Western eyes, either. Her bust line was non-Asian in its delicious prominence. All of us were dressed casually, and for walking in warm weather.
As we got closer, our guide started talking about the history of the area. Andrea and Gloria both disagreed with him on some pronunciation details.
I was wearing a lightweight long-sleeved shirt, and pants which converted to shorts. I excused myself to visit the loo in the back of the bus, and change to my T-shirt and shorts.
When I returned, the ladies seemed to quiet a bit, Andrea folding up some notes she had.
They were interested in the silver ring I wear on my right hand, the earring in my left ear; both are sterling silver with an opal. Gloria wanted a closer look at the ring; I took it off.
“Very pretty,” she said, examining it. “Where did you find it?”
It’s a simple ring, flowing, presenting the opal yet protecting it. “I made it, and the earring,” I told them. And I made the talisman on the silver chain around my neck. It had an opal as well, in the center of a five-pointed star. Thursday I’d have it pinned securely to the inside pocket of my swimsuit.
“What’s it say on the inside?” Gloria asked, passing my ring to Kaye and Andrea.
What the hell, do it. “An it harm none, do what thou will ,” I said, surprised at the emotion in my voice.
Ah well, that got the weird looks I expected. Andrea handed back my ring. Gloria gave me a curious look with a slight smile. “Interesting line for a physics and math teacher,” she said.
I had to chuckle.
But Kaye got defensive. “Are you making fun of us?”
Where had that come from? “I am most certainly not!” I told them. “If I’ve offended any of you, I apologize. I was looking forward to exploring Chichen Itza with you...” had I innocently scratched a closet Baptist?
But just as suddenly, they were falling over each other apologizing, wanting to know if I’d walk with them, talking about the grotto trip Thursday, looking forward to doing that with me, with clear sexual undertones... Weird!
We arrived and received our final instructions before departing the bus -- be back on time, or it’s a long, very expensive cab ride back!
Most of the people on the bus were from our resort, forty or so, with a few, less than ten I’d guess, from another Cancún hotel. The four of us hung back a bit, letting the crowd stream through.
The area is quite flat; that part of the continent is quite flat. Seeing the ancient stone structures rise out of the dense green was quite a sight.
Watching some of them stream by, I shook my head.
“What is it?” Andrea asked. “Something wrong?”
I pointed to one group, pulling beer cans out of a backpack. “They are on sacred ground...” I could feel the strength, the power of this place.
“Sunscreen!” announced Kaye, pulling us to a wooden picnic table.
“Right,” I agreed, digging my Tilley hat from my bag, and a bottle of combined sunscreen and bug repellant.
“I told you he was smart,” Gloria said, taking the bottle from my hand and waving it at her companions.
With a smile, she asked, “Do the back of my neck, and I’ll do yours?”
My, the dance is moving quickly! “Of course,” I told her. I slipped off my sandals and put another light coat of goo on the tops of my feet; I’d given myself one coat before I got on the bus. I put a little more goo on my hands and told her, “Turn around, please...” She turned and tilted her head forward.
Short, dark hair, a very attractive neck -- images of biting her neck while we... I took a breath and touched her. Her cotton top had sort of a boat neck, showing some skin. I pulled it down a bit so I could protect the exposed areas.
Don’t know why, habit perhaps, but as I smoothed on the goo, I pressed lightly, massaging her neck and the tops of her shoulders.
“Ooh, that’s great... Do you do massages?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied, leading the dance along, “And I’m very good with feet...”
That elicited the chorus of “Oohs,” I expected. When I stopped working on her neck, she gave me a pouting sigh and turned with a look of, “Is that all?” I chuckled and spread a little more on the backs of my hands. “I did my arms and legs this morning before getting dressed,” I told them.
“Let’s take care of your neck,” Gloria said with a smile. Andrea took one of my hands, leading me to sitting at the table, facing out. She stood in front of me, leaning my head forward, leaning against her. Mmm -- very nice, her hands on the sides of my head.
Her touch -- so soft, so comforting, drifting, floating.
A touch on the back of my neck, cool... I was drifting, floating, enveloped in touch, in voices. Touch to the back of my neck, to my palms, the backs of my hands, the soles and tops of my feet. Soft words from the distance, my eyes closed.
“There! All done. Shall we go?”
I blinked my eyes open. The three of them stood in front of me. Gloria held my hat and sunglasses out to me; I put them on, then stood and picked up my backpack. It seemed cooler somehow. My vision seemed sharper as well.
“Where to first?” I asked.
Another surprise -- Andrea was holding a portable GPS receiver, and a hand-drawn map.
“Let’s set the mark so I can find it,” she muttered. She looked at me and smiled, a surprisingly intense look. “We’re looking for a particular spot, where a building once stood. We know from their records where it is in relation to a corner of the ball court. I think I’ve got a good fix for that, but we’ll see.”
It was strange, walking along. We came to places where it felt as if I was passing through an invisible curtain. Almost-sounds and sensation passed through me at those points. After the first one, Kaye stepped to my side, putting an arm around my waist. Oh so long it had been -- I welcomed her company, her touch. Gloria stood on my other side, a hand on my shoulder. Andrea led the way. The successive passages were noticeable, but much easier.
We stood at the open end of the ball court. I looked around, taking a breath, letting it go, letting myself experience the place. I slipped out of my sandals, standing on bare ground.
Gloria’s voice, coming from far away, pulling me back, asking what I was doing...
“Smelling sweat and blood, hearing screams and cheers,” I told her.
Andrea said, “That’s it!” triumphantly. “It’s on the other side of the Temple.”
“Might as well go up,” I suggested.
The mighty Temple of Kukulkan... Mid-week, a very slow tourist season, not a lot of people. The steps are quite numerous, steep, and old. Our guide had reminded us that they look a lot more steep on the way down.
Yet as I went up them, I stood taller, letting the place into me again. Again? I’d never been here before. Yet... Yet I knew the layout of the chamber at the top.
A breeze passing by me; no, hands -- the ladies touching me, hugging me. I took a breath, holding them, reveling in the touch.
Gloria was a linguist? I asked her about the symbols surrounding us, pointing to one area.
As she spoke, in English, I could almost hear other voices reading from the walls. Other voices, other tongues.
Our land was hot and dry. I knew what I needed to do. Without sandals, hat, shirt; feet on the stone, stepping forward, I took the ceremonial twelve steps into the Sun.
I raised my arms, my head. Right leg back, a variation on Warrior. Hands open, eyes open, chakras open, I Called to them.
I Called, and their Answer poured through me, a torrent, a flood of energy. But I knew to relax into the intensity, anchored through feet, through legs, through breath, Calling, and accepting their Answer.
I collapsed forward, hands on rock, cool rock. Hand on me, touching, pulling, holding as we went back to the temple.
Kissing -- lips and a body giving themselves to me. I needed to take her, but not here.
More shimmering -- where was I?
We were making our way down the steps, stepping backwards, using the cables.
Uniformed men were rushing to the top, shouting. People on the ground were pointing to the sky. Dark clouds roiled overhead, menacing.
At the bottom, a man in a uniform wanted to know if we’d been up at the top. Kaye answered in English, not responding to his Spanish requests. Had we seen anything, he wanted to know? Just jungle, she replied. He shooed us away impatiently.
Andrea led us off to another area.
We followed her to a clearing amongst a group of trees. She was looking at her gadgets again.
“It’s right around here,” she said.
I stepped into the clearing, out of their grasp. I went through the doorway that wasn’t there, to my seat at the end of the room.
My women approached. I had called the Gods, and they Answered. I knew my women had been at my side. This was not the way I had been taught, but it felt right. They had been with me, part of me. After sundown, we would complete the ritual.
One of my women approached, baring her breasts. She held me, and I relaxed in her embrace. Her song, her nipple, her touch, her scent, all so comforting. I took a breath, raising the fire of the coiled serpent Kundalini -- I squeezed her to me as I devoured her, sharing my pleasure and passion. I felt her ecstasy as I sucked on her, feeling her. I would complete the ritual with her, here, now. The others could wait.
Her hands, her scent, squeezing me, comforting again. I let go to her, let go to her embrace, to her song, to being held and suckled in her arms.
I woke from a very strange dream. But as I awoke, I knew I was in the arms of a wonderful, delicious woman. I squeezed her and sucked on the delicious nipple in my mouth.
Rain! I was getting wet! What the hell was going on?
The girls -- from the bus -- were pulling me along with them, running through a downpour! Had it been a dream?
I was still confused as we made it to the bus, clambering aboard, collapsing into seats, Gloria on top of me and in my arms. My arms went around her, my head between her breasts, hearing and feeling her heart beating wildly. She held me and told me we were safe. Held to a breast again, I moaned.
I drifted in her embrace. I wanted skin, a nipple, but was satisfied where I was. We started moving again.
I moved some under her; she was partially on top of me.
I heard our guide over the intercom. “How many of you saw him?” he asked. Murmurs from the crowd. “I swear by my saintly Abuelita ,” our guide said, “I saw him, and I heard him! I saw the Golden One, standing on the steps of El Castillo, and heard him call out. I hope this is the answer he wanted. I know we need the rain, but por Dios , not all at once!”
I moved more, opening my eyes to see Gloria looking at me. She nodded, and squeezed me once again. I closed my eyes and burrowed into her. I took a deep breath, feeling the visions again, remembering, feeling, reaching up, reaching out, Calling...
I forced my eyes open, holding her, putting my head between her breasts.
Soft touch, soft words -- I closed my eyes and relaxed, drifting again. Flashes of desire, of lust, relaxing again, relaxing but with dark clouds roiling in the distance, feeling my connection to those clouds.
I woke as the bus pulled up to our resort. We were in a semi-protected area, but the wind and rain were still fierce!
“Our room!” Kaye called out, leading us.
But their room was a mess. The ferocity of the storm had driven rain around the door and the windows -- water everywhere!
“My room is on the other side -- it should be sheltered,” I offered.
They gathered things quickly. We went up two flights of stairs and around to the other side to my room. Good luck -- the rain was still heavy, but the winds weren’t as bad.
Back in my room, realization started to hit. The violence, the ferocity, the destruction! I was standing, looking out the window -- downed trees, a section of someone’s roof traveling down the beach.
I don’t know what I said. I was scared. I’d done this -- I was responsible!
Kaye yelled at me! She and Gloria tried to explain that I was the conduit, not the cause.
The three of them around me, telling me they needed my help. How could I not help?
I was scared; I didn’t know what to do. They turned me to the window, to the storm. I felt their presence, and the presence of the storm. I raised my hands, reaching for it, letting it happen, knowing they were with me.
I looked to my women. I was sorry I’d frightened them, but the rain was needed. Now we bring it to a close. Mmm, such beauty, such devotion...
My protector, my fearless! A kitten willing to challenge the Gods! Kaye flew into my arms! I raised her need as she raised mine. I held her, squeezing her, and placed her on our altar. Starting my invocation, I felt her need. Her bravery called for her needs to be addressed. I guided, repaying her devotion. I went to one knee and repaid her more, enjoying her taste, her animation, her cries. Standing, I took her, plunging into her, bringing us to release what we had done. I picked her up and placed her to rest, kissing her once again.
I looked at brown hair, brown eyes like pools, seeing the Speaker, she who bound with softness. I reached and pulled her to me. Soft and full, I needed her bottom. I put her over the altar, taking her from behind, holding her waist, riding her deliciously. Her bottom felt so good, yet I needed her breasts so much. I held her, letting her feel my need. As I approached the precipice, I leaned forward to bite her neck, letting her know who she served.
Placing her by our protector, I felt her sadness as I withdrew. I shared it, but had duties still to perform.
Our sorceress -- I let desire fill me once more, and reached to her as I had reached for her sisters.
She smiled and undressed slowly. She would give herself to me, but on her terms. This will be a struggle, and it will be glorious! A struggle to drain us, and drain the storm! I moved the top pad from the altar to the floor to provide us a softer battleground.
She sat, inviting me. As I moved to sit by her, she touched me, a sorceress’s touch, seeking to cloud my mind with passion and pleasure. I drew her to me, touching her with my skill, watching her moan in response.
I pulled her to me, filling her, squeezing her. She moaned, and looking me in the eye she used her sorceress’s skill to nearly blank my mind with waves of pleasure.
Oh a glorious struggle! I tried to keep at least one of her hands away from me; she tried to draw me to her breasts. Oh, how delicious she looked, and I was so hungry for her! I would have her, I would taste her, but only when our battle was done!
A hand slipped free, the touch or the sorceress again! And as I struggled up from the bliss, other hands grasped me and pulled me to a breast. We all won as I gave myself to them, to our sorceress, to our speaker, devouring, holding, thrusting, coming. Our protector as well, whispering and thrusting her tongue into my ear! I felt the storm collapse even as I collapsed, giving myself fully to our struggle. We moved somehow to the bed; I found a nipple again, our speaker cradling me, peace spreading outside us, and between us.
Read the other side - Capturing the Eye of the Storm
Next - Staggering Through the Eye of the Storm
Phantasy in Progress
Rev 11/21/2004
Riding Out the Storm
By silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www