The is the third part of my trip to Mexico.
This is part 15 of my continuing story and I recommend you read the prior stories in order before reading this one.
All characters are well over the age of consent.
This is a work of fiction.
Enjoy!
* * * * *
It was the start of my first full day of my vacation.
I'd already bagged two ladies, Aurora and Elsa, and I hadn't been on the ground for 24 hours!
You might be thinking that I was worried about getting a STD.
Or getting someone pregnant.
Or that some woman I was fucking was married and her husband found out, caught us in bed and beat the shit out of me.
I wasn't.
Because this is a fictional story and fiction is far better than a shot of penicillin.
Still an early riser, despite the temptation of staying in bed for another round of sweating up the sheets with Elsa, my golf caddie from the previous afternoon, I quietly got up, used the restroom, threw on some gym clothes, and found the hotel workout room on a lower-level floor of the hotel, overlooking the calm Pacific Ocean.
There were a few nice-looking ladies also up early working out and we exchanged nods and smiles.
Nothing like tight tee shirts and hard nipples (pokies) with skintight yoga pants with no panties and plenty of camel toe to get my heart thumping.
I swear these hotties had assholes that were trying to eat the cloth, it was so tight it might have been a second skin.
One of the ladies had on a white cropped tee shirt, no bra, and white yoga pants, leaving nothing to the imagination.
I was pretty sure she didn't have a single hair south of her eyebrows.
Her sizable under boob was quite tantalizing. I hoped to see her out by the adults only pool later that day because I wanted to see her topless, and maybe nude.
Thank God my gym shorts were loose to hide my growing erection.
When you're 28, you get hard, as Eddie Murphy said in the movie 48 Hours, "When the wind blows."
And despite doing a lot of fucking since arriving in Mexico about 18 hours before, I was still getting hard at the sight of sexy women.
Maybe it was the Mexican version of Viagra I had taken, or maybe it was my testosterone going crazy being in a target rich environment of hot babes.
From this visit to the gym, I knew there was some potential in the hotel when I was ready to take advantage of it. And I knew where to find it too.
I could knock on the door next to my suite or pursue something from the workout room. Or maybe by the pool. Or in the hot tub. Or at the bar. Or the restaurant.
My original plan was to get up early, get a workout in, and with my buddies, get in 18 holes before it got too hot.
Still sweating, and sporting a semi, I made it back to the room in time to join Elsa in the shower where I took her from behind, depositing a potent load of swimmers deep inside of her, joining the other batches of man juice I had left there during the night.
She got dressed wearing the same clothes she had on the night before and left for home. I felt bad that she was doing the walk of shame so to speak.
She kissed me and said, "See you tonight."
I shaved, got dressed and I quickly picked up a pastry and coffee, jumping on the hotel courtesy shuttle with my golf bag.
Arriving at the second course we would play, I soon found out my friends weren't going to show.
My golfing buddies all had come down with Montezuma's Revenge and ended up in the local hospital sometime after leaving our dinner.
I wasn't pissed, but I had to question which head they were using to think yesterday.
We'd all been cautioned about drinking water and ice. We were even told not to eat salad or fruit unless it was cut or peeled right in front of us.
I made damn sure that the coffee I was drinking was made with filtered and bottled water.
I ended up playing golf with a couple of guys and of course, the hot female caddies but despite being tempted, I took my caddies cell number after a generous tip, with no promise to call her.
Still wringing wet from the heat and humidity, but not stinking, I went to the hospital to find my friends in beds with IVs stuck in their arms, but the pretty and professional nurses had everything under control and assured me that their recovery was coming along.
My buddies had decided that once they were well enough to leave the hospital, they were headed home. I told them I would visit them each day bringing them gifts, until they left.
While I was bummed that my buddies were stuck in the hospital trying to stop shitting long enough to get on a plane without having a diaper blowout, I decided that I was going to stick with my game plan of golf, maybe go fishing and just being a tourist.
So, I was on my own.
My plan was to spend my mornings golfing at the various courses nearby; the ones closer to the ocean were probably going to be more moderate temperature and humidity wise.
I tipped the concierge nicely to get me early tee times for the next few days. She was a little older, a little chubby, but friendly and helpful. No wedding ring and she signaled her availability. She was maybe a six, or seven. I tipped her heavily so she wouldn't forget me.
I added her to my short list of potential bedmates. For her it would probably a call late at night if I couldn't do any better before then.
So, as I sat in the hotel restaurant, I decided that I was good with Aurora's three holes from 6pm to about 8pm; dinner and an overnight fuck with Elsa would be nice, which left me to find females holes to fill during the daylight hours.
If Elsa couldn't make it, the lady with the accent in the hotel room next door was available. For how long I didn't know. I needed to speak with her.
Fucking a female caddie would be okay but not before I finished the round because I wasn't going to risk being caught fucking in broad daylight. I had no desire to get arrested.
Assuming I could persuade a caddie to fuck (it didn't seem all that hard) I then had to find a place to fuck. I didn't want to bring anyone back to the hotel because Aurora would be on duty. And I didn't want to rent another place (a hotel room) for just a couple of hours.
So, while most of the town hid out from the hot sun during the siesta hours, I ventured into the "old town" to see what it was all about and to see if I could get my itch scratched.
* * * * *
It was fucking hot, and humid too. No wonder people were looking at me like I was an escaped convict from Folsom Prison lurking in the shadows.
I was also leery of being a crime victim, so I kept to the main street and side streets where enough people were walking to make me feel safe.
As I passed an alley on a quiet block, I noticed a small discrete sign, 'masaje.'
I looked around to see if anyone was looking at me, and when no one was, I took a few steps down the narrow alley, finding an old wooden door on the left.
I knocked lightly, and the door opened, just a crack, with an Asian lady looking at me, squinting out in the bright mid-day sunlight.
"Yes?" she asked. In English.
I replied "Massage?"
She opened the door, quickly looked up and down the alley to make sure no one was looking or following me, and pulled me in, closing and locking the door behind me.
"American?" she asked as my eyes adjusted to the dim room.
* * * * *
She was tall, standing about 5' 8", slender, I think, wearing one of those things that I used to call a moo moo.
You know, the one-piece dress for women that is shapeless that goes from your neck to the floor.
My experience was that these dresses hid a lot of flaws, meaning large grossly overweight ladies could safely wear them without being shamed, except anyone who saw that they were wearing it would automatically assume they were fat. But I could be wrong.
I think she was Thai. Maybe 40 to 45 years old.
She had a pretty face and a nice smile. She wore pearl earrings and a pearl necklace.
Her face was not fat, which was interesting considering what she was wearing.
Her hair was long, black and was in some sort of ponytail.
"Where does it hurt?" she asked me in her perfect English and with my right hand I pointed to my back, butt, and legs.
"Turn around!" she ordered me and when I did, she started examining me from behind with her hands over my polo shirt, getting a feel for my muscles, ligaments, and bones, starting at my neck and shoulders, and working down my back, all the while she was prodding and poking.
I guessed she was trying to figure out what was wrong with me and how long it would take to fix me.
And how much she was going to charge me.
* * * * *
Her name was Linda.
She had been in Mexico for more than a few years after living in Los Angeles and told me that she was renting space behind the restaurant out front.
Turns out she owned the restaurant out front. And the building. And all the other buildings on the block.
She didn't lie to me; she just didn't tell me the whole truth.
She'd partnered up in LA with a business consultant named Jack Colton, who rescued her failing rub and tug place and got her making some serious cash when he got her first upscale massage business off the ground.
Maybe you read about The Business Man. He's got some great stories on Literotica.
After Jack Colton exited the massage business they started together, Linda ran the company, expanded it to several locations, and then she decided she wanted to live on the beach and settled in Puerta Vallarta. She sold everything and moved south.
She'd lived in LA, and I lived in Sacramento, so we had some things in common. Like paying high taxes. Driving on crowded freeways and the occasional shaking of the ground.
During the afternoon siesta, and sometimes in the mornings, she offered massages for cash.
She also offered other things, which you shall read about. But not for everyone. Linda was very discrete.
Her little apartment aka studio was modern and clean, with a massage room, a bedroom, living room, small kitchen, and a very nice bathroom.
With a bedroom as part of the unit you'd wonder if all she did was massage. I did.
We settled on four sessions, one for each afternoon during the siesta and I paid up front.
She wanted dollars, and that's how I paid her.
In the US, we charge by the hour for massages.
Linda wasn't worried about the time, she wanted a satisfied customer, so she would work on a client until she felt significant progress had been made.
Once I paid, once we got that out of the way, she got quite friendly.
