-------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author 2008. --------------------------------------------------------
Espalda Humada by DBHenry
A family of illegals cross the border to begin a new life. This episode describes the electric attraction of two cousins in a migrant camp on the desert west of Phoenix. (MF-teens, reluc, 1st, rom, latina)
A collection of broken down cars, torn awnings, and several packing box hovels littered the scrub desert floor. Phoenix, the rich desert metropolis stood to the east, but was slowly spreading its urban tentacles toward this flat arid plain marked with brush lined arroyos. The only advantage of the site was its remote location along a dirt track. Little shade from the hot desert sun was found in the middle of the day from the mesquite and scrub cat claw lining the arroyo.
To this sad place walked the Armijo family from the spot on the Interstate where the coyote left them after sneaking them across the border in the stifling camper shell on the back of his pickup. Now their only transportation was their feet. In a plastic bag they brought their only belongings; a plastic milk jug of tepid sour smelling water and a dozen tortillas, now two days old.
Maria Armijo herded along her 20 year old son Francisco, her 19 year old niece Fermia. Maria had no husband, just a series of drunken good for nothing boyfriends who managed to disappear as quickly as they got her pregnant. She promised Fermia's mother, her sister, that she would look after Fermia. It was the only promise she could keep, as her sister lay dying of TB in the little infirmary across the border in Chuleta, Sonora.
The last of Maria's hard saved money went to hire the coyote, Rodrigo. At least he kept his part of the bargain and got them across the border without cheating them or getting them caught by La Migra.
The last time they tried to get across three years before they were caught by La Migra, the Bureau of Immigration and Naturalization, going through the fence. This time they made it to the camp on the arroyo with the lights of Phoenix lighting up the eastern horizon like a yellow curtain on the horizon.
As they sat in the waning heat of the June night, they were so tired and hungry, they couldn't speak. They just hung their weary heads and rested sitting under the Mesquite listening to the cicadas chirping in the clear desert night.
***
Fermia was nineteen, thin and lithe, with clearly defined muscles and a thin build but with firm high breasts her ragged dress could scarcely hide. Her hair was drab and brownish from the dust but once shampooed would shine clean and jet black. As she sat cross legged her panties drooped from her strong young thighs, the elastic long ago broken and limp. Between her legs a thick black thatch of pubic hair appeared as a shadow beneath the torn short hem of the skirt now drawn around her waist. All she could think about was cool water, to drink and to bathe in to make her feel sparkling clean again.
Across from her squatted Francisco and although just as tired, he could see the shadow between Fermia's legs and it gave him the demon thoughts.
Francisco was nineteen and the hard toil of scratching for a few pesos to keep his clan from starving made him strong and muscular. His one burning desire was to own his own car, a Mustang convertible. He dreamed of cruising down the boulevard showing off how important he was. Here he was in the Promised Land and he was going to get that car, no matter what.
Right now, beneath the grime and the dust all he could think about was the chica in the tattered dress so exhausted across from him sitting in the dust of the desert floor.
"Hey chica, wanna find some water and clean up." He asked hoping to get Fermia alone.
"I'm not a chica; I'm Fermia, for the hundredth time." She caught his gaze on her thighs and instinctively pulled her legs together.
Even if he was strong and macho and good looking, He was her primo, her cousin, and she knew what he was staring at. He'd been looking the whole trip, even tried to feel her breasts in the darkness of the close quarters of the camper shell.
"Besides I'm too cansado-tired. I just want to sleep." Fermia curled up on the ground and closed her eyes. the rest followed her example and were soon trying to make themselves comfortable.
***
As the first light began as a gray peach shade to the East, Fermia lay on her side and dreamed. She dreamed of a warm bath in a beautiful marble sunken tub. She luxuriated in bubbles and felt a warm massage as a hand with a soft sponge gently caressed her, bathed her, and anointed her with a fragrent soap. The sponge traveled across her shoulders and down her chest to caress her firm nipples and swirl about her areolae making them stiffen and tingle.
The sponge caressed the soft firm breasts and swept to her armpit gliding across her pectoral muscle to repeat the circular massage of her pointed erectile nipples. The sponge trailed down her abdomen stopping once to circle her belly button. It caressed her tummy and gently rubbed her thick pubic growth. In the dream it shrank and snaked down, gently parting her labia and caressing her clitoris. Round and round the tiny sponge rotated and stimulated creating the same erectile protuberation as with her nipples.
As the motion continued the feeling became heavenly. The nubbin began with a delicious throbbing increasing in intensity and urgency. As she lay in the warm suds she felt a wave of pleasure engulf her as the power of the intense feeling coursed through her groin. The wave of pleasure crested and she felt transported to another dimension of wonderful insistent pleasure. Finally, she began to feel relaxed and wonderfully relieved.