Jungle Boy By Mitchell Conner
El congla. The jungle. It could've been the all encompassing buzzing noise of the not-too-remote-from populated-PuertoVallarta-jungle that obscured the sound of the man who walked past us, his presence known only as he was at our side. A combination of sounds: birds singing, wind blowing through the thick forest, and water flowing down a rocky creek drowned out the din of civilization and replaced them with nature's white noise. We'd followed that rocky creek bed a half a mile into the jungle from the highway leading out of Puerto Vallarta. The short Aztec looking man who made an embarrassed gap-tooth smile at the two of us had followed our same path then continued on. But, then, how do you react to the sight of naked and lean Latin boy butt fucking a naked and muscular white man?
After the Aztec walked past us, I noticed he took off his green nylon shorts and kept walking up the creek bed. He held the shorts in his left hand using it for balance as he stepped from rock to rock, his right elbow moving in time with his steps.
Chorizo. Sausage. Less than tasteful slang for cock. But say it out loud in Spanish and it rolls around your mouth much like the real thing.
Moments before, I'd finally tasted Ramses chorizo. It was about six inches long, with a slight clockwise corkscrew curve to it. Certainly adequate to uncork passion, as it were. It was uncut, and nestled in a small, triangular patch of soft, black, short hair. Above it, a wonderful lightly rippled stomach and small, defined pecs covered with milky brown skin. Below it, balls contracted so compactly in their smooth wrinkled sac you could hardly separate the two... with your tongue.
An hour before, at the beach, Ramses had taken off his shirt. His loose fitting jeans had hung low on his waist, the gray waistband of his underwear proudly proclaiming "Jockey." But could he be persuaded to ride me? He went down to the surf line and splashed water on himself. His wet hair curled slightly, and when he turned towards me the rivulets of water running down his chest collected in dark stains on that waistband. Ramses looked at me with that contrary combination of boyish innocence and knowing ability that has reduced men to buggery for centuries.
A day before I had met him at a local club. He was one of the boys serving cocktails. As rumor had it, many of those boys served a lot more. As I came to know him, I realized that rumor is founded in the vanity of men who would rather fantasize than act.
The service at this particular bar was that afforded ancient warriors returning from battle. A Hero's Welcome, as it were. Greeted at the door. Ogled regardless of the need for ogling. A hug and kiss if it were your second visit. Or third. Or hundredth judging by some of the customers there, those old guard Americano PV pensioners who stretch their dollar and libido by living it up, and out, in Mexico.
"You want to dance?" Ramses asked.
I smiled a "Yes" and we moved to the dance floor.
Gee I wish I'd have been able to channel Jennifer Beals in Flashdance right then, but she's not dead and they used a double for her anyway. It didn't matter, as we were both smiling at each other and gyrating closer and closer as the song progressed.
When Ramses had to return to work he led me over to the corner near the bathrooms.
"Where's my kiss?" Ramses asked.
I didn't hesitate, not for a moment. Lips gave way to tongues followed by hands gripping asses in a wet, hot, intertwined embrace. They say that in Mexico time passes slowly, which is exasperating when you're hungry, but damn fortunate if you're this lucky.
The kiss sealed more than our lips. We each had to have more.
"Can you meet me tomorrow?" Ramses asked.
"Si," I replied, using exactly one-tenth of my known Spanish vocabulary.
And so it was that I found myself in that creek bed, naked, getting jungle-fucked in a foreign country in the sight of a stranger.
As soon as we'd stepped off the highway we'd stopped and had our first real kiss of the day. A deep, satisfying, tongue dance of a kiss that added fuel to the fire of passion left unquenched in the sixteen hours since we'd met.
"Follow me," Ramses said. And with that we'd started up the creek bed.
"I've come here before," Ramses said.
Seeing my look, he added, "to be alone with my thoughts, not for this."
Feeling that the intended act was thus suitably virginal, even if I wasn't, I smiled and took off my shirt. Ramses reciprocated and I started to tongue his chest and nipples. If they could have used the salty taste created by the ocean water and Ramses' sweat as garnish on the edge of a margarita glass I swear to God the whole country would be on a drinking binge and tequila would be rationed.
Intoxicated by the taste, I got religious, going down on my knees so I could go down on Ramses. I opened his jeans and slowly pulled the gray Jockey's down over, and around his swollen chorizo. I added his cock to my mouth as quickly as I'd added that word to my vocabulary. I decided right then that when I flunked Spanish in grade school it was obviously due to a lack of motivational instruction.
As I pulled back the foreskin of Ramses uncut cock it exposed a clean, pink head that I tongued as I fondled his balls. Smooth balls, drawn up tightly in excitement.
Bum. Butt. The English call it a bum as well, or arse in coarse slang. In Ramses' case it was more like two small cantaloupe halves that I could feel with my hands wrapped around his waist.
Ramses grabbed my head, started fucking my face and uttered a low moan. I may have flunked Spanish but I always got high marks in "Plays well with others."
The salty taste of his chest was replaced with the salty taste of precum as I moved my hands around from his ass to his stomach and chest, feeling the incredibly smooth brown skin.
"Let's get naked," Ramses said.
The process took about as long as it does for you to read this sentence.
I again kneeled, but turned Ramses around so that his ass was in my face. He leaned forward over the rock so that his cheeks were pointed up and his tight little butthole was exposed. His ass was wonderfully firm, barely a bubble. Like a majority of his body, it was also smooth, and I ran my tongue up and down his crack, ending at the base of his balls. Ramses shuddered and I heard him moan. I tongued his hole and stroked his cock as he fucked my hand. I felt the precum slide between my fingers as he gently rocked his ass into my face.
Ramses stood up and pulled me into an embrace, kissing deeply, sharing our tastes, our tongues, and our passion.
"Turn around," Ramses asked.
When I did, Ramses gently pushed me forward so I was bent at the waist, hands on a large rock, legs spread as I stood.
Then I felt his tongue start to play around my ass and balls.
"Ey!" Amazing how that word can convey "Oh My God" in only two letters. It's relation to "Oy vey" should be obvious.
I shuddered and let out a low moan. Ramses started to tongue my asshole, then moved his finger in to play deeper.
"I brought a condom," Ramses said.
"You want to fuck me?" I asked, doing my best to feign innocence.
Ramses looked at me and smiled, one eyebrow cocked, as he rustled through his backpack.
'That'll do for me,' I thought.
And then the realization. Ramses had come prepared. He had planned to take me out into the jungle and fuck my ass. This was not an accident of lust. This was a plan of passion.
Images of old Tarzan movies, that lucky "boy" wearing only a g-string, and smooth skinned "savages" dancing around tiedup white explorers lightning flashed around my mind. Fuck those old MGM musicals.
My own little picture show was then interrupted by a blunt pressure on my ass. I felt Ramses lubed finger gently play with my hole, then the head of his cock press against the opening. I concentrated on relaxing while standing in this semi-awkward position. Ramses slowly entered me, grabbing me by my hips as he drove his cock in deeper and deeper. I felt that small patch of fur at the base of his cock rub my ass as Ramses moaned. As he pulled back I rocked my hips slightly and felt the initial sting of being opened up fade, then turn into pleasure. Ramses bent forward and started driving his cock in and out of me, increasing the force each time. I felt his hands play with my nipples, my balls, and my cock as he fucked my ass.
Coitus interruptus. Latin for an interrupted fuck, and since Spanish is a Latin based language it seems an appropriate description of what happened when the Aztec walked by.
It was a momentary "interruptus" however, lasting only until the Aztec disappeared up the creek bed.
I swear that being discovered only made Ramses hornier, as he pounded my ass even harder. I could feel his cock growing even larger inside me as his thrusts grew faster and faster. His breath scorched my neck and ear, hotter than the humid jungle around us.
Ramses let out a low moan as he thrust hard into me one last time. I felt the white-hot cum he was shooting into the condom as he held me by the hips, the thrust mellowing into a grinding motion, the hair around his cock rubbing on my ass.
"Stay in me," I whispered hoarsely, as I stood, legs still spread, Ramses' chorizo still inside. My cock was dripping precum and pointing at the patches of sky visible through the canopy of trees above. Ramses grabbed my nipples and licked my neck as I stroked my cock.
The jungle images I'd unknowingly harbored in some kind of prepubescent sexual scrapbook flooded my mind again. Ramses and I were in some kind of gay porn version of a Tarzan movie and dammit I was ready for my fucking closeup.
I came hard. It felt like I'd never stop. As the orgasm danced around my body I could feel my ass tighten up on Ramses' stillhard cock. With him still inside me, I twisted around so that we could kiss, our tongues reaching for each other as he slowly slid out of me.
Ramses tugged off the condom, tossed it into the creek, and we embraced. It was deep, and sweet, and romantic, and passionate, and lustful, and sexy and I'm-gonna'-take-you home-to-meet-momma all at once, and I could only hear his breathing and heartbeat as we held each other.
As I looked over Ramses shoulder into the jungle, I saw the Aztec wearing only his gap-toothed smile as he turned and disappeared into the trees.