Rancho Paloma Blanca

Amparo and I took a suite in another hotel. Senora Alvarez's exhibition of lust had put us both in the mood and we fucked our way into the siesta hour. There was no finesse this time. The woman just mounted and rode me. As we went into the home stretch she hammered me with her heels like some crazed jockey driving a Triple Crown winner to the wire. When she finally toppled off me, we lay atop the sheets, waiting in vain for the lazy ceiling fan to cool our sweat-drenched bodies. On my back, I was staring up through the spinning blades when Amparo reached out and stroked my brow.

"I miss them already." She said.

"You mustn't allow yourself to become attached to them." I reminded her.

"Oh, I don't miss them in that way. I mean I miss having the power over someone. How soon can we go and capture some more?" she asked eagerly.

"As a matter of fact I have been negotiating with a new client over the past week and we have come to terms. He wants an oriental girl. Preferably Chinese and no older than 18."

" This is wonderful! When can we start?"

"We will fly up to Mexico tomorrow and begin trolling the tourist beaches. It may take some time to locate exactly what we are looking for." I told her.

"It will be like an un-married honeymoon." She enthused.

I had to admit to myself that it would be fun. My life up until now would probably be considered exciting by the uninitiated. In point of fact it had often been a lonely and tedious affair.

The following morning we took off from La Aurora airport. It was just over 800 kilometers to Tulum, Mexico, on the Yucatan coast. We would begin our search there and work our way north toward Cancun. This stretch of coast is known as the Mayan Riviera. There are a dozen small resorts along the way. At any one of them we might find the perfect girl. The brawny 160 H.P. Lycoming under the Cessna's cowling had us cruising at 110 knots in clear weather. Even so it would be a four-hour flight.

Out of the mountains and over the coastal plain until I could follow the Caribbean Coast. It was a beautiful route. All the filth, bugs and sweat down below, were invisible from 2000 feet. I dropped down on the final leg to allow Amparo to enjoy the scenery. The emerald verdure of the jungle stretched off into infinity on our left. Directly below us a turquoise sea hurled lazy white ropes onto the sand and rocks along the shore. Off to our right the aqua deepened to a sapphire blue, strewn with billions of sun diamonds all the way to the horizon. We flew in silence. Idle conversation would have been an insult to the splendor of the view.

This time I rented a car. I took it for a month so that I could return it at my convenience. We checked into a room and set up on the beach like a typical couple on vacation. There were all manner of attractive young girls and women frolicking in the surf and sand but over two days we saw not a single oriental.

Amparo became slightly frustrated but I had warned her that this part of the business was often time consuming. Patience was a primary tool of the trade. On the third day we moved up the coast to Akumal and repeated the process.

Shortly after we arrived there we had a moment's excitement but it was a false start. The Orientals we came across turned out to be Japanese. The typical Japanese leg, it seemed, was not deemed shapely by the respectable Herr Hoffman's standards. In a certain mood, I had often enjoyed the plump, dimpled limbs that had been parted for me by the women of Japan.

Even if we had wanted to take one, it would have been difficult. They hovered together like a tour group. Isolating one would have been like trying to pluck a baby gazelle from the shelter of the herd without causing a stampede. We gave up on Akumal and moved all the way up to Playa del Carmen, opposite the island of Cozumel.

This was a larger resort and it catered to a younger crowd. I felt optimistic as soon as I saw the place and the feeling was soon justified. We were grabbing a bite at one of the taquerias along the beach when we saw a girl who just might fill the bill. A slender thing she was, and quite tall for an Asian. I could not be certain that she was Chinese. She did have the high cheekbones and defined features associated with the northern provinces of China though, so I was hopeful.

She spread a towel on the sand and settled down with a book. We kept our distance and moved off to one side. I located us just behind her peripheral vision and swept casually back and forth along the beach with my binoculars. Without seeming to pause on her I was able to get a closer look. The first thing I noticed was that her book was in English. That would simplify matters. She had a head of long, straight black hair. It was so fine that even the light breeze kept floating strands of it across her eyes. It was interrupting her reading and after a few tosses of her head she gave up on the book and began oiling herself. Her smooth skin had tanned to a toasted saffron shade.

Amparo, who also had been surreptitiously studying our prey, leaned close to my ear.

"I want her." She growled.

"Patience, mis pequenos tigress." I murmured.

She lay back under a sheen of coconut oil and it was easy to see why Amparo was so aroused. A very brief chocolate colored bikini gave an illusion of nakedness. Her breasts were almost non-existent but her nipples were prominent through the material of her top. The rise and fall of her ribcage sloped down to a flat belly, where a tiny ornament of some sort winked from her navel. Her hipbones pulled her thong taut over a nicely rounded pubic mound.

After a bit she turned over and unknowingly allowed us to appreciate her backside. The shallow valley between her shoulder blades led my eyes down the length of her back. The rise of her rump was firm and inviting. As I watched, she bent her shapely legs and folded them back until her heels rested on her buttocks and then extended them again. She idly repeated this little exercise and I wondered if the young minx might not be rubbing her little pussy against the sand.

When at last she gathered up her stuff, we followed her, making sure that she took no notice of us. She led us to a strip of run down motels, all of which seemed to be packed with young people. The rush of Spring break had passed but there was always a raft of students who hung on into the summer.

The place she was staying at was full up. Amparo told the desk clerk that every place was full and she was desperate for a room. No amount of guile or pleading on her part swayed him. He had heard too many hard luck stories. A fifty-dollar bribe, however, got someone's reservation misplaced and secured her a room there.

Back at our own hotel, we devised our strategy. We would use the Mayan Air Charter ploy again but Amparo would make the contact while I stayed in the background. Amparo packed her valise and took a taxi back to her new room. She would observe things there and learn what she could about our target.

I joined Amparo for breakfast the next morning. She informed me that the girl was down here with a girlfriend. This was a major complication. I asked if there would be any profit in taking them together. She said definitely not. The other girl had some sort of infirmity and was wearing a leg brace. It was obvious that Amparo would have to strike up a friendship with the girls if we were going to learn any more.

That afternoon Amparo trailed the pair of them to the beach and I followed behind her. Once they had ensconced themselves on the sand, Amparo strolled over and unrolled her towel near them. Paying them no heed, she stripped down to her bikini. I sat at the bar of a beach hut where I could see how things went.

Amparo began applying her suntan lotion and when she got to her back she pretended to be unable to reach the area between her shoulder blades. A casual request for help from the girls brought the Asian over to her. Amparo said something and the girl laughed. They must have invited her to join them, for she moved her stuff alongside theirs. Soon they were chattering and giggling together as if they had known each other their whole lives. I smiled and left for the comfort of the air-conditioned hotel bar.

In the evening, as arranged, I met with Amparo. It was a hurried briefing, as she had to rush back. She was going clubbing with her new girlfriends. I warned her not to draw any attention to herself over the course of the evening and to speak only English. On the off chance that questions were ever asked, I didn't want some bartender remembering her.

The good news was that the crippled girl was departing tomorrow. Our girl wanted to stay and was eager when Amparo had offered to switch rooms and save them both some money. The girl's name was Huang Mei Yan. She was American born of Chinese parents. She had grown up in San Francisco but was going to college in San Diego. I was going to order drinks but Amparo glanced at her watch and got up from the table. She gave me a quick kiss and departed

So far things were falling into place very nicely. Mei Yan it was a beautiful name. I thought how ironic it was that we had found Mei Yan on the Mayan Riviera. The Chinese always put the surname first. I looked up the chops for her name in the Text of Compiled Chinese Culture I had brought along. Huang translated as 'bright', Mei as pretty and Yan as sexy. Could we have asked for a better omen? I thought not.

The following day the friend was seen off at the airport and Mei Yan and Amparo spent the afternoon browsing through the Mercado Publico . Even though she was pretending to be on a student's budget, Amparo insisted on buying them matching skirts of native weave batiked with bright Indio designs. It was a devious little prod to the bonding process. I admired the Machiavellian machinations of Amparo's mind. She would have made a great con artist.

When we got together that evening, she assured me that she had Mei Yan eating out of her hand. I gave her some post cards and told her write several of them to imaginary friends and relatives and to get Mei Lei to do the same. Amparo should offer to post them the following morning but keep them instead. I would mail them from Mexico at later intervals to delay any alarm. By the time she was missed our trail would be colder than last winter.

It was time for me to play the part of charter pilot again. We decided that Amparo would 'win' two free tickets for a sight seeing flight. Amparo would get the girl to a bistro in one of the busier hotels for lunch where I would stage a drawing. It would be natural for her to ask Mei Yan to share her good fortune. I told her to be sure not to allow Mei Yan to mail anything or make any last minute phone calls before we got her in the car and on the way to the plane. She would have to stick to her like glue.

The following day I was circulating from table to table passing out tickets for a free drawing. I explained the freebie as an advertising ploy to stimulate business by word of mouth. They walked in and sat down at eleven a.m.. Right on time. What a girl, I thought, she made every thing so smooth. I gave my spiel and handed each of them half a ticket and palmed Amparo's number. Ten minutes later I made a big show of drawing a winner out of my aviator's cap. Amparo squealed and clapped her hands when I called out her number. I stopped by their table and informed Amparo that transportation to and from the plane was included for herself and whomever she chose to accompany her. I told her I would have a car waiting outside the hotel and that the flight was scheduled for one p.m..

"My goodness, I don't know. This is so sudden. How long would we be?" she questioned.

"We should have you back by four, Ma'am." I assured her courteously.

"What do you say, Mei Yan? Are you game?" she asked the girl.

"You want me to go too? Thank you, Amparo. I think it sounds cool."

Outside, I held the rear door for them and then got behind the wheel. I apologized for the fact that the car's a.c. was not working and we baked on the drive out to the airstrip. They were both so grateful when I offered them bottles of iced cold juice.

"I have one orange and one apple. Who wants which?" I asked.

"The apple please. I'm allergic to orange." Amparo answered quickly.

They downed the juice thirstily and passed back the bottles. We got to the plane and I soon had them belted in. I took my time going through my flight check. Mei Yan's head began to nod. I made some excuse about something I had forgotten in the car and climbed out of the plane.

Fifteen minutes later I stuck my head I stuck my head in and Amparo grinned at me.

"She's out. Huh?"

By way of answer Amparo grasped the unconscious girl's chin and moved it up and down, mimicking Mei Yan's voice, as if a ventriloquist's dummy was talking.

"Would Sir like Mei Yan to suck his cock?" the dummy asked.

We both burst out laughing and she rushed to give me a long congratulatory kiss.

My stuff was already packed but I had to I send Amparo back to gather up both their stuff and check them out of the motel. She was back with everything quickly and I was ready to take off. Before she would let us go, she insisted that I take a picture of her with her first capture. I humored her and got out my camera. Amparo took a fistful of the long, silky hair and used it to lift the girl's face. Smiling into the lens, like a crazed headhunter, she snaked out her tongue gave Mei Yan's cheek a long, wet lick.

With that bizarre scene duly recorded I was allowed to get us airborne. On the way back we had a tailwind, which I hoped might shorten the trip by an hour. We were both impatient to introduce Mei Yan to Rancho Paloma Blanca and her new life.