What Happened on That Trip with Two Hippies

I was nineteen when we traveled south to play a tournament with the university team. We were a bunch of guys who barely knew the city, staying in a modest hotel with yellow-painted walls and a receptionist who treated us like we were her nephews. Of that whole trip, what really stuck with me wasn’t basketball. It was what came afterward.

On Friday we had the toughest match: the home team, on its own court, with the whole crowd against us. At first every basket we scored was met with whistles. But that pressure, instead of crushing us, lit us up. We started pulling off plays we couldn’t even manage in practice, and little by little the stands came over to our side. By the last quarter, half the crowd was chanting our names. We won by six points and came out ecstatic.

The coach, in a good mood after the win, let us celebrate. A group of girls who had improvised themselves into a cheer squad invited us to one of their houses. We danced, drank something sweet and cheap, and everything promised more than it delivered in the end: all that happened was clumsy kissing and hands stopping just in time. Rodrigo, my best friend on the team, laughed afterward in the street.

—Much ado about nothing —he said.

We got back to the hotel after midnight, still wanting something we didn’t know how to name. The next day there was a trip to a weaving workshop that, of course, we missed by sleeping in. We went down to reception midmorning, with no one in particular to look for, and ended up chatting with the woman at the desk. That was when they came in.

***

The guy looked about twenty-five, with shoulder-length hair and a shoulder bag slung across his chest. He was accompanied by two girls, and I admit I stopped listening to the receptionist as soon as I saw them. One was wearing a leather vest with nothing underneath, her nipples showing against the leather every time she breathed, and a miniskirt so short you could glimpse the crease of her ass when she walked; the other had jeans tight around her hips that outlined her pussy and a low-cut blouse embroidered with bright colors through which her tits kept slipping out. They both wore huaraches and walked as if the whole world belonged to them.

—Don’t you guys have anything? —he asked, coming closer with an easy smile.

—Not for drugs —Rodrigo said curtly.

—They’re not drugs, they’re mushrooms —one of them said, moving closer to us than to her own companion. She had big eyes and a way of looking that didn’t ask permission—. We’re going to a town nearby, to see Doña Tomasa, a famous healer. Have you heard of her?

—A little —I said—. But we can’t, we’re waiting for the others.

—They’re the guys from the capital who came to play —the receptionist explained, proud of us.

The guy took a handful of beaded necklaces and bracelets out of his bag.

—Buy us something, so we can raise money for the trip. Have you eaten yet?

—Not yet —I said, looking at the one in the embroidered blouse—. We’re going to the market for lunch. If you want, come with us.

***

We walked toward the market and they followed us. On the way I found out their names were Marisol and Paola. Marisol, the one in the vest, was the guy’s girlfriend, although also his maternal cousin. Paola was his sister. The two of them had run away from home looking for adventure, met some hippies from a commune in the mountains, and stayed to live there, making flower headbands, bracelets, and necklaces to sell in the villages.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Marisol, and she knew it. She smiled, talked to me about the commune, and let her hand fall close to mine on the wooden table. Her boyfriend, oblivious or complicit, kept showing his wares to Rodrigo and the receptionist, who had joined us. At one point I lowered my hand and rested it on Marisol’s thigh. She turned to look at me. I made as if to pull it away and, smiling, she held it where it was, guiding it a little higher, until my fingertips brushed the edge of her panties beneath the miniskirt. She was warm, and I could already feel the dampness marking the fabric.

—Careful —she whispered in my ear, biting my earlobe—, because if you keep going you’ll have to finish the job.

When she got up to go to the bathroom, I watched the movement of her hips and the shadow of her ass showing below the hem. Her boyfriend noticed.

—She’s hot, isn’t she? —he said, without bitterness.

I looked at him, waiting for the catch. There wasn’t one.

—No problem, man. If she likes you, go ahead. Life is short and love isn’t exclusive. I need to go see Doña Tomasa, that’s my thing. And I’ll warn you: Marisol loves fucking the guys she likes until they’re dry. Hang on tight.

We finished lunch. I’d bought a couple of necklaces, and when I handed him a bill and told him to keep the change, Marisol gave me two bracelets from her own wrist. On the way back to the hotel, the guy said goodbye.

—I’m heading to the commune ahead of you. See you later —he said, and walked off as if he were leaving us a gift.

***

The four of us stayed in front of the hotel entrance. Marisol put her arm around my waist and slipped her hand under my T-shirt, barely scratching the skin of my belly, and without saying anything more we went up. Rodrigo hesitated for a second at reception, but Paola took his hand and pressed his palm straight against the bulge in his pants.

—Are you just going to stand there? —she said, laughing—. It’s obvious you’ve got a stiff one, let’s not waste it.

The four of us went into the room. Without preamble, Paola unbuttoned her vest and Rodrigo went straight for her tits, not very big but firm, with dark, peaked nipples. He sucked them one after the other, tugging at them with his teeth until he drew a moan out of her.

—Easy —she told him, gently pushing him away and grabbing his hair—. We’ve got time. My brother isn’t back until tomorrow, at the earliest. I’m going to suck you real good, but first look.

She took Marisol by the hand and the two of them began moving slowly, as if dancing to music only they could hear. Rodrigo and I sat on the edge of the bed to watch them, already with our cocks pushing against the fabric of our pants. I started to unbutton myself, but Marisol stopped me with her voice.

—I’ll do that later. I want to pull it out with my mouth.

I left the button open and kept watching. They rubbed their tits against each other while kissing tongue-first, and between kisses they slowly undressed until they were left with tiny panties that revealed half an ass cheek and the bulge of their pussies pressed into the fabric. Marisol slipped two fingers over Paola’s panties, pressing her clit until she made her moan. Paola answered by bending down and biting one of Marisol’s nipples. The air in the room felt heavy. I could feel my pulse in my throat and my cock throbbing against my open fly.

They came over to us and took off our T-shirts while kissing our chests. They knelt between our legs, pulled our pants and underwear down in one yank, and tossed everything aside. When my cock sprang up in front of my face, Marisol gave a low laugh.

—Look what we’ve got here —she said, and gave it a long lick from the balls to the tip, without taking it in yet. Then she stood up.

The two of them started dancing again, this time with their backs pressed to our bodies, rubbing their naked asses against our hard cocks, sliding up and down slowly, letting the head sink between their cheeks for a moment before coming back out. It was delicious torture. I felt Marisol crouch just enough for the tip to settle against the entrance to her cunt over her soaked panties, then straighten up laughing.

***

Rodrigo couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved Paola onto the bed, tore off her panties, and drove his cock into her in one single thrust. She cried out and asked him to go easy between laughs, arching her back while he buried himself to the balls.

—Aahh, asshole, slower, you’re splitting me open —she told him, and he answered in her ear with things that made her laugh harder and spread her legs wider.

I barely registered them, because Marisol had already turned toward me. She kissed me, pushing her tongue all the way in while she grabbed my cock with her hand and squeezed it as if measuring it. When she let it go completely, she opened her eyes wide.

—Damn —she said softly—, what a surprise. With this thing you’re going to leave me wrecked.

She crouched down and took my cock in her mouth, pushing forward until the tip hit the back of her throat and made her swallow. I stroked her hair and shoulders while she moved up and down unhurriedly, her cheeks hollowed by the suction, alternating her tongue all over the shaft, stopping to suck my balls one by one and starting over again. She spit saliva over the head and spread it with her hand, jerking me off while taking me back down to the base. When I felt myself about to come, I lifted her gently.

—Not yet —I told her—. Get on your knees.

I arranged her on her knees on the bed, face into the pillow and ass high in the air, got behind her, and ran the head of my cock all along the slit of her cunt, soaking it in her wetness, before entering. She was so wet she swallowed me whole in one go, with the slightest resistance. I felt her tightening around my cock, squeezing me like a hot fist.

—Aahh, like that —she said, gripping the sheet with both hands—. Like that, slowly, feel me deep inside.

I held her by the hip and started moving slowly, savoring every inch, pulling almost all the way out until only the head stayed inside, then pushing back in to the hilt with a hard thrust that shook her ass. She raised her head and moaned with her face buried in the pillow, squeezing her cunt every time I hit bottom. I gave her a couple of swats on the ass and her skin turned red at once.

—Yeah, fuck me like that —she panted—, give it to me all, don’t hold back.

I sped up. The room filled with the wet sound of my cock sliding in and out of her cunt and the slap of my thighs against her ass. We stayed like that for a good while until I turned her onto her back, put her legs over my shoulders, and took her again, now face-to-face, folding her almost in half, kissing her neck and sucking her tits while I drove it deep. From that angle her belly bulged every time I hit bottom, and she watched herself with her mouth open, disbelieving.

—You’re getting all the way to my womb —she murmured, eyes glassy.

Then we shifted onto our sides, locked together, with one of her legs hanging over my hip so I could keep sliding into her slowly. All you could hear was her ragged breathing, mine, and the sloshing of her soaked cunt. Every time pleasure swelled inside her, she held me tighter and dug her nails into my back.

—Don’t stop —she begged against my ear, her voice broken—, don’t stop, babe, I’m coming, I’m coming, come inside me, no, not inside, keep going, keep going…

I stayed with her slowly while she came, feeling her cunt clench around my cock in waves, feeling the wetness run down her thighs onto the sheet. Then she pushed me by the shoulder, made me roll onto my back, and climbed on top, with my cock buried to the hilt and her hands resting on my chest. She started riding me, setting the rhythm herself, rising up to the tip and dropping all her weight down, her tits bouncing with every downward stroke, until another orgasm left her trembling, bent over me, her hair falling across her face.

***

We rested for a moment without pulling out. I stroked her ass with an open palm and slid my finger along the outline of her hole; she answered by tightening her sphincter and arching slightly, purring.

—You like it like this? —I asked, pressing my fingertip against her pucker.

She shrugged with a half-smile that meant yes, and lowered herself onto my finger until she swallowed it to the knuckle.

—Take it in slowly —she said, not looking at me, biting her lip—, it’s been a while since anyone fucked me there.

I took some cream from the nightstand, smeared her ass generously, and coated my cock until it shone. I spread her cheeks with both hands and set the head against the hole. I pushed slowly, feeling the ring give way millimeter by millimeter, pausing at the first sign, backing off, moving forward again. She breathed deeply, loosening up, searching for the angle.

—There, there, put it all in —she panted at last.

When she finally gave way completely and I buried my cock to the balls, I stayed still for a few seconds, feeling the heat squeezed tight around me. Then she was the one who started moving, pushing her ass back against my hip, setting the rhythm again, taking me along with her. She slipped her fingers into her cunt and fingered herself while I fucked her from behind, and I could feel her fingers moving through the thin wall that separated the two holes.

—Aahh, asshole, like that, tear my ass open —she moaned—, harder, harder.

I glanced to the other side of the bed for a moment. Rodrigo had Paola on all fours and was driving into her with long thrusts, just as lost as we were, her ass marked by his fingers. For a moment the four of us matched the same beat, and the whole room seemed to hold its breath between the sloshing, the moans, and the creaking of the bed.

Marisol asked for a change. I pulled out of her ass with a small wet sound and she turned around and mounted me again, this time facing away, guiding me back into her cunt with her hand, and started riding me while looking toward the door. I felt fingers playing with mine on Marisol’s hips. I looked at the wardrobe mirror: it was Paola, kneeling behind her cousin, one breast in her mouth and her fingers also sunk into Marisol’s cunt, accompanying my thrusts, while her brother slept face down, defeated, his cock still shining. The two of them were laughing quietly, conspiratorial, as if all of it were part of a game they already knew by heart.

—And Rodrigo? —I managed to ask.

—Asleep —Marisol answered without stopping—. It’s our turn to share.

Paola bent down and licked my balls while my cock went in and out of her cousin’s cunt. Then she pulled me out, took my cock into her mouth to taste Marisol, put it back where it belonged, and shoved it in herself with her hand. I finished with Marisol on top, squeezing my cock to milk me, both of us panting, and I came with a roar, spilling everything deep inside while she came for the third time, trembling all over. We collapsed tangled together on the rumpled bed, semen dripping down our thighs.

Paola came over, kissed my shoulder, and, without asking for a turn, took her cousin’s place for a while longer. She sat on my face and made me lick her until she came twice on my tongue, pressing my mouth against her cunt with both hands. By then I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began; I only knew I didn’t want that afternoon to end.

***

Later I got into the shower. Marisol was there, under the water, working up foam with a tiny bar of soap. She washed me slowly, stopping to lather my cock with both hands until it was hard again, and I returned the favor, running my hands along her back, her hip, and slipping my soapy fingers between her cheeks and into her cunt. I pressed her face-first against the cold tiles, spread her legs with my knee, and fucked her from behind again, watching her brace her crushed tits against the wall.

—Don’t finish inside, please —she asked in a weak voice, her hands against the wall, moving her ass back to take me in—. You already filled me up plenty before.

I did as she asked. I drove into her for a good while, her coming again with her forehead against the tile, until at last I pulled out in time and she knelt under the spray to finish sucking me until I emptied her mouth completely. She swallowed what she could and laughed with shining lips when the rest dripped down her chin. We came out of the shower with wrinkled skin and a stupid laugh we couldn’t shake off.

The four of us ate at a market diner as if none of it had happened, as if we were old friends meeting again. At dusk, Marisol and Paola said goodbye to catch up with the guy at the mountain commune. Marisol left me a blue-bead necklace in my hands and a kiss that tasted like goodbye.

—Life is short —she told me, repeating her boyfriend—. Remember us.

I never saw them again. The team went back to the capital on Sunday and routine swallowed everything else. But even now, when I put on that necklace and feel the cold beads against my chest, I go back for a moment to that yellow-walled room down south, to being nineteen, and to the two girls who taught me that some afternoons are worth an entire lifetime.