Mark And Claudia Ch 1

Mexico

Mark and Claudia had been going out since their freshman year. They moved in together in the middle of their sophomore year. They were both at a small mid-Western college. Mark was majoring in computer science, Claudia in economics. Both were serious about the relationship from the beginning; they decided early on that they would get married the summer after graduation. The wedding was in June; their friends stayed after graduation for their wedding ceremony. Claudia took Mark's last name: Mark and Claudia Pinter. They were both 22.

They planned to move to San Francisco in the fall. They had already spent the last two summers there, Mark working for a software research company, and Claudia for a major California bank. Their summer jobs had worked out, and each had a job offer to start in September. They hoped to find a house in August; they had agreed that it would be more romantic to start looking for a house once they were husband and wife. But first they planned a two-month honeymoon trip through Central and South America.

The object of the trip was to spend time alone together. They had worked hard all through college. Their friends had gone to Florida for spring break, and to Europe in the summer. Mark and Claudia had spent the time working. But now the hard work had paid off, and they had good jobs waiting for them. They would spend the next two months alone together. They had told their friends and families only that they would be in San Franciso by August 15th, and that if they were lucky they might get a postcard from someplace exotic.

Mark and Claudia hoped to explore Latin America's pre-Columbian past, and to see some of the area's spectacular flora and fauna. It was Mark who was most interested in ruins. While he had never taken an archaeology course, he had always been fascinated by the idea that there were complex civilizations in the Americas before the European explorers arrived. Claudia was more interested in nature.

Their flight from the States took them to Mexico City. Mark's parents had given them a weekend in a suite at the Four Seasons Mexico as a wedding present. They were both very excited. They had been busy over the last four years; they had never been able to spend this much time alone together, just the two of them. As they came in over Mexico City, the pilot pointed out the two snow-capped volcanoes, Popcatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, visible above the smog. Mark leaned across to look out the window, putting his arm around Claudia. They looked together at the volcanoes, the snow pale orange from the reflected light of the setting sun. Then the plane banked away from the volcanoes as they began their final approach to the airport. His arm still around her, Mark murmured into Claudia's ear,

"Are you looking forward to the first night of your honeymoon, Mrs. Pinter?"

Claudia had not been married long enough for the thrill of being called "Mrs. Pinter" to have worn off. She felt a shiver up and down her body.

"Oh, Mark. I've been waiting for this for a long time."

Claudia and Mark had starting sleeping together within the first two months of their relationship. They had taken a practical attitude toward sex: they were in love, so why shouldn't they sleep together? Neither of them had been virgins -- they had both had relationships in high school. Their sex life together was, if nothing else, regular: they made love an average of twice a week. They seldom made love much more or less than this.

While they had made love many times before, and had made love several times since the wedding, they both felt that this first night of their honeymoon was special. As a special honeymoon surprise for Mark, Claudia had bought black lace panties and a matching bra, which she was wearing under her dress.

The plane taxied up to the terminal. After the inevitable wait while the passengers in front of them collected all their carry-on luggage, Mark and Claudia were out in the terminal. They knew almost no Spanish. Claudia had taken one course in college, but she had forgotten just about everything. She could remember scarcely more than "buenos dias." Not much good for getting around. But Claudia was confident that people would speak enough English for them to get by. As a last resort, she had a small phrase book with her -- given enough time, she thought she could say just about anything she needed to say.

They came up to the immigration counter. "Welcome to Mexico. Passports, please." No problem. This was easy. They picked up their bags (practical bags with hidden backpack straps if they needed them), sailed through customs with a green light, and in a moment were in a taxi at the curb. Mark leaned forward, "Four Seasons Hotel, please."

The taxi took off into the city. By now, it was dark. Holding hands, Mark and Claudia watched the lights of the strange city as the taxi drove along. They marveled at the signs with the messages they couldn't understand, and laughed at the ones that were the same: Coca-Cola. Marlboro. Levi's. They thought about the night ahead of them.

The taxi ride was taking a long time. There were no longer as many lights, and there were fewer and fewer people on the street as they drove by. Mark leaned forward again.

"You're taking us to the Four Seasons, right?"

The taxi driver either did not understand what Mark had just said, or he chose to ignore it. He kept driving. Mark enunciated his words carefully.

"Take...us...to...the...Four...Seasons...Hotel."

After a pause, the taxi driver nodded. "Si señor, por supuesto que si."

Mark leaned back in his seat. In spite of the fact that the taxi driver appeared to have understood, this did not look like the hotel district. On either side of the road were abandoned, decaying buildings, with small makeshift wooden shacks spread between them. Some of the shacks looked empty; in others candles or lanterns flickered briefly as they drove past. Claudia clutched Mark's hand tightly. She was getting frightened. Mark squeezed her hand, trying to be reassuring, although he was becoming increasingly alarmed himself.

The road turned sharply, and they found themselves in the midst of what was clearly a huge garbage dump. Piles of smoldering rubbish surrounded the car. Through the smoke, patches of flame were visible, casting an eerie reddish glow over the scene. The taxi pulled to a stop. The driver turned off the ignition. In the sudden silence, Claudia and Mark could hear the crackling of the burning garbage. A putrid smell was beginning to seep into the car. The newly-wed couple were terrified. This was clearly not the Four Seasons hotel.

The driver turned around to face them. In his hand, pointing at them, was a revolver.

"Out. Get outside."

The driver motioned with the gun for them to get out of the car. His English was heavily accented, but he could speak it. Mark opened the car door. He got out, still holding Claudia's hand. Claudia was shaking with fear. Mark helped her to her feet, and they stood beside the car.

"Put the money on the ground."

Mark took his wallet out of his pants' pocket. He put it slowly down in front of him.

"You. Walk that way."

The driver motioned with the gun for Mark to walk away from the car. Mark started to walk, still holding Claudia's hand. Claudia began to follow him.

"No. She stays. You walk."

Mark let go of Claudia's hand, and backed slowly away. This situation was getting steadily worse. Claudia was shaking uncontrollably, unable to think of anything but that she was almost certainly about to die. Mark tried to think of something to do. But he was powerless. The Mexican had a gun.

The Mexican walked up to Claudia. He pointed the gun to point at her face. The end of the barrel was only inches from Claudia's face. Mark tensed himself to spring, although he knew that by the time he heard the shot, Claudia would already be dead.

"I don't think I shoot you yet. I think you have money."

With his left hand, the Mexican reached for Claudia's dress. With a swift motion, he ripped the front of the dress open, pulling it down over Claudia's shoulder. In the dim reddish light, the top of Claudia's black lace bra was clearly visible.

"Very pretty. I think I look more."

The Mexican pulled again. The strap of Claudia's bra snapped. With a rough motion, the Mexican pulled the dress and bra down to fully expose Claudia's left breast. Even in the dim light, the Mexican could see that Claudia had a very attractive body. Her breast was full and firm; her upper body was slim and toned. Claudia was not thinking about being in shape at the moment, however. She was too terrified to think of anything but the gun pointed at her.

"Very pretty."

With his left hand, the Mexican felt the fullness of Claudia's breast.

Suddenly, the scene was flooded with blinding white light. As the Mexican turned, a single shot rang out. The Mexican fell to the ground, a dark blood stain spreading silently over his motionless chest.

**********

A police officer had noticed the taxi heading in the wrong direction, with two tourists in the back seat, and had followed them. He had arrived just in time. As the English-speaking tourist policeman explained to the still very shaken couple several hours later at the main police station, they had gotten into an unlicensed taxi at the airport. Most of the time, the worst that would have happened to them would be to be overcharged. But the man who had picked them up was a member of a ring of violent criminals, which had been robbing and killing people for the last several weeks. If their taxi had not been spotted, they would certainly now be dead.

The tourist police were very kind to the young couple. After taking statements from them, they drove them to the Four Seasons. The police officer must have explained what had happened to the hotel staff, because when the police left, Mark and Claudia found themselves in the penthouse suite of the hotel, with a magnificent view over the entire city.

They were still much too shaken to take in the splendor of their surroundings. Claudia could not stop shaking. Mark could think of nothing but his helplessness as he watched his wife being assaulted. Surely there was something he could have done? But every time he went through the scene again, he came to the same conclusion: there was nothing he could have done.

Silently, they undressed and climbed into bed. They hugged one another tightly.

"I love you, Claudia."

"I love you too, Mark."

There was nothing else they could say. Comforted by the familiar warmth of one another's embrace, and exhausted after the events of the evening, they quickly fell asleep.

*********

The sun streaming in through the French doors woke them. Having slept soundly, Claudia felt much better. In the bright light of morning, the events of the night before seemed far away. Mark felt better, too. He could remember the helplessness that had obsessed him last night, but it no longer seemed so important.

During the night, the covers had come off them. The sight of Mark's naked body reminded Claudia of their original plans for the evening.

"Mark, do you know what day it is?"

Claudia nuzzled Mark's neck with her lips.

"It's coming back to me. I'm lying in bed with a newly married woman, aren't I?"

Claudia did not say anything in reply. Instead, she ran her hand slowly down his chest, and over his stomach. When she reached his cock, Mark was already getting hard. Gently, Claudia began to stroke it. Mark was now very hard. Claudia took him in her mouth. Mark moaned as she bobbed her head up and down on his cock. Mark could feel that he was going to come if Claudia kept this up. He pulled her head off his cock. Claudia positioned herself on top of Mark, and guided his cock inside her. Claudia could see from Mark's expression that he was close to coming. She quickened her pace. Mark came quickly, and she came shortly afterwards.

They lay in each other's arms on the bed.

"I love you, Claudia."

"I love you, Mark."

"You know, I think we should just forget what happened last night. We can start our honeymoon today. No one else ever needs to know about what happened last night."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Claudia answered. "We've been looking forward to this honeymoon for a long time. I don't think we should let what happened last night spoil it for us."

"Let's have breakfast and get started!"

Claudia and Mark spent the next three days seeing the sights of Mexico City. They went to the Museum of Anthropology, and were amazed by the richness of pre-Columbian Mexico. They admired the Diego Rivera murals in the Palacio de Bellas Artes. They took a day trip to the pyramids at Teotihuacan, racing each other to the top of the pyramids of the sun and moon, laughing. They enjoyed Mexican food, and went out dancing together in the evenings. And they made love, more often than their customary twice a week.

Claudia woke up each morning at six. She did not need an alarm clock; she got up every day at the same time back home to go to the gym. Here, she put on the tights and leotard she had brought with her, and went down to the hotel gym to work out for forty-five minutes, while Mark slept. She knew that she would not always have the luxury of a hotel gym during their trip, but she planned to do everything she could to stay in shape. Claudia's routine was to spend twenty five minutes doing push-ups, sit-ups, leg lifts, and working with weights, and then twenty minutes on the Stairmaster.

Back home, Mark worked out in the gym with Claudia only occasionally. He did usually accompany her on her twice-weekly runs. They had agreed that it was not a good idea to go running in Mexico City -- the streets were dangerous, and besides they had been told it was best not to exercise outdoors because of the pollution.

There was only one thing wrong. Claudia found herself thinking more and more about the scene in the garbage dump. At the time, all she had been able to think about was that she was about to die. But now she found herself returning again and again to the details of the scene.

Once more, she felt her dress being ripped. Over and over again, she felt the Mexican's rough hand caressing her breast. The more Claudia thought about it, the more excited she became. She tried to put the scene out of her mind, to concentrate on being with Mark, but she couldn't. She thought again of the Mexican staring at her exposed breast in the dim light, saying "very pretty."

The first time she began to think about the scene, she was in the Aztec hall of the Museum of Anthropology. There was something about the fantastic and gruesome stone sculptures that returned her to the garbage dump. That time, she was able to put the scene out of her mind. The next time, they had stopped at their hotel to pick up rain gear for a thunderstorm. Claudia was in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror. She imagined the Mexican roughly ripped her dress to expose both breasts. Claudia pulled her dress down over her shoulders, and watched in the mirror as her hands caressed her breasts. Claudia felt herself getting wet as she imagined they were the Mexican's hands. She imagined the Mexican leering at her, ogling her body. Guiltily, Claudia caught herself. She pulled her dress back up. She flushed the toilet and unlocked the bathroom door, promising herself that she would not think of the scene again.

But a few hours later, they came back to the hotel to change for dinner. Claudia was back in the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror, her dress down over her breasts, breathing heavily. This time, she imagined that it was the Mexican's hand running up the inside of her leg, and coming to rest against the crotch of her panties. She imagined that it was the Mexican who pulled the fabric roughly aside to feel her wetness with his finger.

She was too excited by the scene she was imagining even to think of Mark. She moaned slightly as she rubbed herself. She imagined the Mexican motioning her with his gun to climb on to the hood of the car.

"Spread your legs. Lift dress."

Claudia complied, lifting herself onto the hood. She spread her legs wide, and hitched her dress up over her hips. Even in the dim light, a large wet patch was clearly visible. Claudia leaned back on her elbows, breathing heavily. She was no longer wearing the sensible shoes she always wore. She was wearing spike black heels. She rested her heels on the edge of the hood of the car, spreading her legs wider.

The Mexican took in the sight of Claudia's crotch thrust toward him, of her full breasts standing out from her slim body.

"Pull aside. Slowly."

The Mexican motioned with his gun for Claudia to pull aside the crotch of her panties. Almost unable to bear her excitement, Claudia reached between her legs. She grasped the fabric, and slowly pulled it to the side.

Imagining the Mexican admiring her body, her legs spread wide open, her breasts heaving with her rapid breathing, almost made her come. But there was more. The Mexican dropped his pants, to expose a very hard, very thick cock. Claudia leaned back, and pulled the crotch of her panties as far to the side as she could. She felt the Mexican's rough hands on her thighs, and she gasped as his cock entered her. At this point, Claudia came.

The hotel bathroom came back into focus around her. She felt very guilty. Why was she thinking these thoughts? Wasn't Mark enough for her? She knew that she loved him very much. She was also allowing herself to be excited by a very racist stereotype of a Mexican. She told herself that she would not think of the scene again. She flushed the toilet and unlocked the door.

But she did think of the scene again. Many times. She told Mark that she had to go to the bathroom so much because of a stomach problem. But each time she would lock herself in a stall as the images came back and she rubbed herself furiously. Sometimes the scene was different. After the Mexican had ripped her dress to expose both breasts, he motioned with his gun for her to take off her dress.

"Take off dress."

Claudia complied, pulling the tattered remains of her dress over her head. She stood in front of him, the black bra ripped and hanging below her breasts. Again, she was wearing high black heels.

"I think you suck good, no?"

The Mexican motioned her over towards the car. He leaned back against the hood of the car, and undid his pants. His cock was just as thickas before, but now was even longer. There was a bead of come glistening on the exposed head of his cock.

"You suck."

The Mexican motioned for Claudia to bend over and take his cock into her mouth. Claudia bent over slowly, supporting herself with one hand on the hood of the car. She imagined the Mexican admiring her profile as she bent over -- her long legs, her tight ass, her slim stomach, her full breasts hanging down.

Claudia had never gone down on anybody but Mark. She had always pulled away before Mark came -- much as she tried, they thought of come in her mouth disgusted her.

But now she grasped the shaft of the Mexican's cock with one hand. Her hand didn't reach anywhere near all the way around. As she brought her face down onto his cock, her nostrils were filled with the pungent smell of his rancid, unwashed body. The smell nearly drove Claudia mad with lust.

"You lick first."

Claudia obeyed. First she licked up the bead of glistening cum on the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste. Then she ran her tongue down the long length of his shaft. She felt the roughness of his pubic hair with her tongue as she reached his balls.

"Now you suck."

Claudia opened her mouth wide to take in the huge cock. The Mexican grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and rammed his cock down her throat. She had never taken Mark's cock so deep into her throat. The sensation of the Mexican ramming his huge cock deep down her throat was incredibly exciting. The Mexican plunged his cock in and out of her mouth, grunting. Claudia imagined his come spurting down her throat, overflowing out her mouth and running down her chin.