02-Dreamers vs. Doers

Tijuana Orphanage

Chapter Two

Dreamers vs. Doers. In with both feet… and cock!

Not having much sleep the night before, men awoke to the alluring scent of bacon frying in large frying pans and stored in silver buffet chafing dishes. Breakfast as being cooked by two chefs at the poolside terrace and, in addition to the delicious smelling bacon, included sausages, scrambled eggs, pancakes and lots of toast.

A motley crew of tired men and kids began to filter from the rooms shielding their eyes from the glare of the radiating sun. Almost all naked, they lined either side of the long tables like zombies in the sweltering heat. Many of the wide-eyed children seldom experienced anything more than porridge and toast for breakfast. They gorged themselves in the feast by hand, no utensils, sitting on the ground while the men took places at palapa covered tables complete with linen tablecloths, silver cutlery, carafes of coffee and jugs of various juices.

A pompous British man who, the day before introduced himself as, “Sir Winston Prescott,” yes… “Knighted by Her Majesty, the Queen for valor in the Balkans war,” he added with pride, although nobody really gave a damn, had a boy of about eleven tethered to a leash sitting at his feet to whom he randomly tossed food at as he told his tales of heroism during the war to everybody’s boredom.

Mike was infuriated with the self-described hero’s testimonials, as well as, his treatment of the boy. He could not resist the opportunity to deflate the man’s ego by saying, “Strange… those tiny balls of your’s don’t live up to a man who supposedly has big balls!”

Sir Prescott did in fact have tiny testicles and a rather small-stubby cock. The man turned red at the insult caught momentarily at a loss for words.

Jerry, picking up on Mike’s comment, added insult to injury, “Your DOG seems to have more manly genitals than you do,” he then stressed, “SIR!”

The other four men at the table roared in laughter at Sir Prescott’s expense. The man rose from the table in a huff, snapped the puppy-boy’s collar and dragged the kid away on hands and knees. Everyone noticed that the poor boy, who’d been thrown his food on the floor like a dog, wasn’t finished eating.

James McMaster, owner of a nationwide chain of gyms, happened to be walking by and heard the exchange. He swooped down and scooped up the boy in his strong arms, unfastened the leather collar and tossed at it the stunned, scared looking Prescott. Looking at the man with disgust, he said, “There’s a time and a place for S&M role playing, you fucking idiot! Let the boy alone to have his breakfast with the other kids in peace.” That said, James adjusted the boy to perch in one of his muscular arms and proceed to the buffet table. The boy held his plate with both hands while James loaded it with food and then set him down with the other kids.

Another man said in order to demean Prescott further, “Now there’s a true hero of a man without a fancy title. –However, I hereby appoint him ‘Sir James’ for the rest of our stay!”

Men all around, distracted by the unusual disturbance, stood from their breakfast tables and applauded. As there may be honor among thieves, there was honor among perverts and pedophiles and all maintained a certain respect for the children, regardless of their own perversions.

Just then, a Mexican Federal Police Captain entered the terrace from the motel tucking his shirt tails into his open trousers. At his side was Gabriel, the missing boy who stood staring at the food tables. The captain motioned him to eat and Gabriel didn’t waste a second running over to load a plate before squatting amongst his peers.

There was no doubt who Gabriel spent the night with. Jerry explained to Mike, “The policia often come around and are supplied with a boy or a girl for as long as they want at the expense of the guests ‘bought and paid for chicken’. –Mostly, they want the little girls.” Mike tried not to show his ignorance.

Jerry explained that Senora Cortez threw in another cheaper priced boy and a free girl to them for that very reason. “They’re  for her brother Philippe to barter, if necessary, not if but when the federalies came around on the pretence of investigating fictitious complaints. These types of ill repute places are plentiful around here. Everyone including the government orphanage managers… most of whom  are essentially pimps and madams, are on the take.” Looking over at the Police Captain, Jerry put Mike’s concerns to rest, “Don’t worry about the captain’s presence… he can be very useful, as well.”

Jerry could not have been more correct. The fat man, gun belt slung over his shoulder and struggling to do up his uniform trousers, asked in broken English, “Der is a problema, senors? I ‘ear mucho noise.”

Not getting a response, he shrugged and helped himself to the buffet and, for whatever reason, plopped himself down beside Elfonzo, the dog boy, and chatted him up. It was clear to everyone that the policeman had witnessed the event and rescue by McMaster when he looked over and scowled at the Brit. Sir Prescott turned literally pale as chalk and was visibly shaking. Without any comment, he got up and retreated into the motel. After completing his breakfast and making sure the boys had also eaten, the police captain left with both Gabriel and dog-boy Elfonzo in tow to places unknown. Neither the captain nor the boys were seen again that weekend, neither was Sir Prescott who was rumored to have packed his bags and checked out.

*  *  *

The children played in the swimming pool as the adults lazed in loungers, some fast asleep, others retiring to their rooms alone to nurse a hangover and recharge for later day and evening activities. Mike opted for his bed and decided to take the twelve year-old boy along for his amusement. As he took the boys hand, the boy took a gander over his shoulder envious at his peers frolicking in play. Mike was like a kid in a candy store determined he was going to get his money’s worth and more that weekend.

Riccardo had a beautiful long cock and grape-size orbs housed in a loose satin sack. Mike craved boy-cum like a junky craved another fix hoping that Senora Cortez hadn’t duped him by claiming the hairless boy was virile enough to give Mike his fix when he wasn’t. On closer inspection of Riccardo’s groin, the light touch of a finger verified the stubbles of what had to be shaved pubes to keep him younger looking. It wasn’t a large shaven bush, just a patch above his cock that Mike wished Senora Cortez had saved from the obviously dull, used razor which a small nick scab attested to.

Mike held the boy’s bent legs upward until his pink rectum was easily accessible to be tongue basted. He wished he could penetrate the hole as deep as he had when he’d been eating cum from the little girl’s twat. He rimmed the boy a good while debating on if he would have the energy to fuck him as well. Mike lowered Riccardo’s legs, took the cock in his mouth for a few seconds before looking up to meet Riccardo’s dark eyes, hand masturbating a finger in mime and bad English and Spanish, asked “You cum for me?… Squirtez?… Bolas vacias?… Orgasmo?”

The boy finally understood, smiled, and replied, “Si Senor… I cum.”

“Good… you…cum…in…my…mouth, comprendez?” he said pointing to his mouth.

“Riccardo giggled, and replied, “Si, Senor.”

Mike went down on the kid savoring the full length of the shaft after toying with the piss-slit between the heavy foreskin of the semi-erect cock that he could bury half his tongue into. In no time, Riccardo filled out in girth and length enjoying the man’s attention.

The boy winced in a second of pain when Mike took both testicles in his mouth to roll his tongue over relishing in the smoothness. A finger entered the boy who winced again, his anal muscles finally surrendered to the pressure and not long afterward, Mike saw the white knuckles grasping the sheets, his body tremble and cock twitch releasing several volleys of warm fluid over Mike’s tongue. It wasn’t a great deal, but enough to savor before swallowing it.

Mike was over the edge, ready to blow holding back just long enough to position Riccardo between his legs holding the boy’s head down on his cock. He gyrated his hips until ten-seconds of bliss overcame reality and the minutes of recuperation brought it all back. Mike waved the boy away to go out and play and fell into a deep sleep.

*  *  *

Mike awoke several hours later to a clamor coming from the other bed. He squeezed his eyes tight, rubbed them, then looked again. It was Jerry and he was fucking one of the very cute waiter boys… actually the teenager was riding Jerry’s cock, Jerry having very little to do with anything except jerking the kid off. The bed springs complained, the headboard beat the wall, and joining  the melody was the teen with his head reared back howling like a wolf at the moon loving every second of being in control of his own pleasure. Mike watched as several ivory white ropes flew in every direction. The banshee’s cock was pointed at Jerry’s black hairy torso as he rode Jerry fast and furious. Jerry said something to the boy in Spanish who settled between his thick thighs and engulfed the large cock despite where it had just been.

Mike arose and walked out into the late afternoon sun. He had slept longer than he thought, the chefs were setting up to prepare dinner. Dante, the gardener, was lying on his back on stage getting a blowjob from a boy of around six. Where this kid came from was anyone’s guess. Mike took a seat at the bar and ordered a cerzasa from the cute bartender who was no older than fourteen. The young bartender smiled and showed his pearly whites, leaned over the bar and whispered into Mike’s ear, “You have nice cock, Senor. Sixty-dolla you fuck me on stage, yes?”

Mike was rather taken aback by the offer. He was never one to stand out in a crowd. He always kept a low profile even at house parties. He chuckled and replied, “I don’t think so, amigo. As much as I would like to fuck you… not with an audience watching.” he shyly replied.

The boy appeared disappointed, then his eyes lit up and said, “Tirty-dolla in your room?”

Mike looked over the boy dressed in a skimpier than skimpy white thong that exposed his pubic hair but not much else showed under the material, and topped with a tight white wife-beater cut-off just below his chest. Mike’s cock stirred at the thought of bedding the whore-boy. He said, “Let me think about it.”

He turned away only to see Dante shoving his cock in the little boy on all fours. An announcer came over the PA system sounding a lot like Philippe; however,  the English was too good. “Yes, yes, Senors. Pauki is a virgin boy borrowed from his home in Ensenada only this morning for your entertainment! …Give him a bravo as Dante takes him for the first time! …Then for eighty-dollars you can enjoy him too, right there on stage, treating your friends to a show… forty dollars for a blowjob while he gets fucked!”

The crowd clapped and whistled in support of Dante raping the young boy who was screaming unheard in the din of hoots, whistles and then beer bottles slamming table tops added to the noise. Mike wondered if the men did it purposely in order to drown out the child’s pleas. The feisty boy was being pushed like a wheelbarrow across the stage until the two waiter boys came to Dante’s aid and secured him in place. Mike was sickened by the age of the boy.

Jerry appeared at Mike’s side. “Don’t let it get to ya. buddy.” he said, as if sensing Mike’s thoughts. He ordered a cerveza for himself and Mike and bought one for the kid bartender, winking at him. “Mexico thrives on its tourist industry… and sex vacations make up a good part of that tourism. The government knows it… turns a blind eye at it.

Once in a while they close down brothels… to appease world pressure to clean up their nasty ways. They’ll make a big publicity campaign out of  how they are cracking down and busting prostitution rings while another one springs up.” Jerry sucked back his beer and continued,  “The boy-trade stays under the radar… non existent. All the world cares or knows about are young girls being abused. Maybe one day the do-gooders may realize that boys are just as popular as girls… if not getting more popular because they’re seen as safer commodity.”

“Are you saying that straight men are willing to give up girls for boys?”

Jerry chuckled, “A mouth is a mouth and a hole is a hole. And as a sailor would say, “Any port in storm!”

Mike laughed at his friend’s analogy. “Guess yer right. Never thought of it that way.”

“The whore masters, like Senora Cortez, find boys easier to handle. Boys are resilient… and they don’t get knocked up!”

Mike asked, “What do you mean by resilient?”

“Boys can take their lumps and get over it… they bounce back. Take that kid on stage; he’ll have a sore ass for a while –especially if more men use him tonight.” Jerry laughed. “But his parents are a little richer today; probably paid more for the services of their little boy than daddy makes in a month picking fruit.”

“Ya mean the parent’s know… I mean, sold him?” Mike asked aghast.

“Well ya don’t think he was kidnapped, do you? His parents –probably father– bartered his ass to Philippe’s pimps. They would never consider selling their daughters, though. Virginity is sacred to these people and they certainly don’t want to chance having another bambino to feed nine-months later!” Jerry then waved his hand around brushing it all off as a non issue, and said,  “Besides, he’ll be back home playing in the shanty-town trash heaps after the weekend.”

Mike thought out loud, “I don’t think I could fuck anything that young with a clear conscience.”

Just then, one of the guests knelt on stage and fed his cock to the sobbing boy. The crowd went wild again. One of the waiter boys, Alphonso, held the kid by the hair screaming something in his ear.

Jerry took him out of his trance pointing at Mike’s cock and said, “Hell, Mike, then why the boner if you’re turned off by the sight of it?”

Jerry was right, Mike hadn’t even realized he was erect watching the stage show from the corner of his eye.

Mike had to wonder what the outlandish stage entertainment was going to be later that night! In the mean time, the Adonis bartender who kept eying him was added to his room tab and after the kid had another boy-waiter take his place, he followed Mike who was being led by his hard cock to the room.

Mike swiped away whatever clutter lay on the table and bent the kid over it. He pulled down the kid’s thong, his leaking cock prodding and poked until the boy reached behind and spread his own cheeks for Mike to find the warm indent he was seeking. Although securely embedded by several inches well past the gated entry, he knew the boy had been well used in the past even though he was still tight.

The kid reared his head and screamed, “Fuck you me hard, Senor!”

And, Mike did. Reaching down to feel the boy’s genitals, he found a finger-size stiffy and two tiny balls as he had guessed but he really didn’t care. The table banged the wall as Mike merciless pounded away at the kid’s hole while the boy made purring throaty sounds. Mike was oh so ready, he pulled the boy down from the table onto his knees. Without any hesitation, his cock was sucked and pumped until he screamed out wondering for the first time what the kid’s name was!

to be continued …

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