I was on a work trip in Manzanillo, a small city on the Pacific Ocean in Mexico. It was a relatively safe part of the country and I was never worried walking anywhere, day or night. There was a tourist zone on the bay at the north end with a few resorts, but it was not a major destination.
After supper on Saturday night with some work colleagues and a few drinks, everyone went back to their rooms. But I was horny. So, I hailed a cab and showed him a slip of paper with the address that I wanted to go to, a gay bar that I had googled the week before. The taxi driver was shocked when he recognized the address, a bit disgusted and he tried to talk me out of going there. I insisted and he reluctantly drove me to the bar, halfway between the downtown and the tourist zone, on the main road in an area that was all locals.
The bar was in an unassuming two storey building with nothing to indicate a bar and no hints of anything gay. I found the door with the street number and there was a bouncer who was as friendly and ushered me in with smiles and handshakes. He spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish. I climbed the stairs.
The bar was a long, very dark, dingy room with a small stage at one end that had all the lighting and a bar and some toilets at the other. There were tables and chairs scattered around a small dance floor and there was a disco ball and some blaring Mexican pop music. It was nearly empty except for a small group of drag queens and very femmy gays near the stage. I ordered a Sol and sat alone at a table on the side to nurse it for a bit.
Every once in a while, one of the drag queens would get up and sing a song and her friends would all cheer at the end. None of them interested me. I used the toilet once to piss, which was dirty and reminded me of the filthiest toilet in Scotland from the movie Trainspotting.
After a bit, I noticed a Mexican guy sitting by himself a few tables away. I hadn't seen him when I came in, so he must have arrived while I was watching the singing on stage. I was a bit drunk, which also didn't help my powers of observation in a very dark room. He must have been watching me, as we made eye contact as soon as I noticed him. He smiled, I smiled and nodded back.
The other guy was hard to age, but I'd say he was late twenties (like me) or maybe early thirties. He wasn't classically attractive, but he had a masculine appeal. He was big and burly, with a large bucket head, big nose, deep set eyes, dark curly hair, and a relatively dark complexion. He was wearing jeans and a plaid cowboy shirt.
I was a bit nervous in this strange place where I didn't speak the language, so I looked away and watched the stage, even though nothing was happening. When I looked back at him, he was still looking at me. He smiled again and nodded. I did likewise. I knew it was on. He beckoned me over to his table with a head tilt and so I went.
He seemed a bit surprised I spoke no Spanish, but there you have it. He spoke almost no English either, so there was no conversation of any substance. We struggled through some introductions; his name was Jesus. Up close I could see his hairy forearms and chest hair at the collar of his shirt. He wasn't my usual type, but I was horny, there were no other options and, as I said, he had an appealing masculinity. I rubbed his thigh under the table, gestured to suggest we should go, and he quickly agreed.
I think he wanted to go back to my place, but I knew I couldn't do that without facing questions. I said no. He was stymied. I said let's get a hotel. He was confused, then reluctant, but I insisted, and he gave in. We got in his car and he started driving. I felt up his cock through his jeans, which he definitely liked. We drove to a local motel and he negotiated a room for $30. I tried to pay but he wouldn't let me. The hotel clerk knew the score and maintained a poker face, which was somewhat unfriendly in its opaque neutrality.
The room was spartan and white, with harsh overhead fluorescent lighting. I don't know why we didn't turn it down, but we closed the blinds and started making out on the bed in the glaring, bright light. I pulled open the snaps of his shirt to feel his hairy chest and then fumbled with his belt and dome to get into his jeans. He wore classic white jockey shorts. He pulled at my clothes too and I stripped for him.
He was a big guy - taller than me (and I'm six foot even), broad shouldered, on the husky side. He had a hairy chest and stomach, with an average sized but very hard uncut cock, an untamed bush and unshaven balls. I got to work on his tool, which leaked some pre-cum. He swiveled around and we 69ed.
He took me by the hand and led me to the shower, where we made out and groped and washed each other. He paid particular attention to my crack and then knelt down and started rimming me and fingering me. I spread my legs and bent over.
When we toweled off and went back to the bed, I got on all fours and he rimmed me some more, before I could feel his cock probing my ass. He entered me slowly and gently.
We didn't have condoms or even lube except spit, but I was past caring. It hurt as he started to fuck me, but it felt good too and, more than ever before in my life, I craved to be fucked. Usually, I was a top, but not that night. I submitted.
He fucked me gently, but I could tell he was into it from his moans and increasing urgency. He got closer and closer. I stroked my own boner but being careful not to let myself cum too early. He gave a flurry jackrabbit thrusts and came inside me. That was my cue to bring myself off and I shot a huge load all over the bedspread.
He pulled out and we both collapsed into the mess I had made, giggling and kissing and touching in the afterglow. Eventually I got up and we showered together for the second time, this time just to get clean. We still played a little grab ass.
I think he would have preferred we sleep together for the night and get off again in the morning, but I needed to be up early and so I insisted on leaving. He drove me back and before he let me out of the car, he gave me a Hotmail address and we kissed one last time. After I got out of the car, I looked back and waved.
I never emailed him, as he was so far away from where I lived, although maybe I should have. It's still a great memory of what was a very hot hookup.