What I Discovered in Cartagena I Told No One

Marcos had been in Cartagena de Indias for three days and was starting to suspect he had made the wrong trip. The recommendations from the group of friends — that the seafront was full of willing girls, that with two hundred dollars one could buy a whole week of company — had turned out to be a little misleading. Every night he found one who seemed perfect, and every night he discovered behind the tight dress some detail he hadn’t expected.

That fourth afternoon he decided to change tactics. He went out early, with the sun still high, and walked into a bar with a terrace by the sea. He ordered a cold beer and a plate of grilled octopus for less than what a coffee cost him in his neighborhood. He was eating quietly, watching the swell, when she came in.

She was nothing like the others. She was a little taller, with real curves under a T-shirt that fit her tightly in all the right places. Shoulder-length black hair, cinnamon skin, full lips with no makeup. She sat two tables away, ordered a mango juice, and scanned the place with the calm of someone who knows she’s going to be looked at.

Marcos waited five minutes before approaching with a drink.

—Can I buy you one?

—Of course, handsome —she replied with a smile that already promised things.

Her name was Yamila. They talked nonsense for a while, about tourists, the heat, until Marcos carefully asked whether she was free that afternoon. Yamila didn’t beat around the bush.

—Depends on what you want. Front, ten. Back, eighteen. A full hour.

Marcos smiled, but after the earlier surprises he wasn’t going to risk it again.

—Before anything else, I need to check something. I want to see with my own eyes that you’re a real girl.

Yamila laughed softly, took him by the hand, and led him to the back bathroom. She closed the door, slowly raised her short skirt, and stood there looking at him. What she had underneath left no room for doubt: carefully shaved, lush lips, everything in its place. Marcos felt his mouth go dry.

—Fuck. This is what I came for.

Yamila lowered her skirt, still smiling.

—Then decide quickly. An hour? The afternoon? The whole night?

—How much for the whole day and night?

She looked him up and down, calculating.

—Three hundred. And I’m warning you now: you won’t have enough money or stamina to pay for what you really deserve.

Marcos laughed. The idea lit him up inside.

—How much, really?

—One fifty. All yours. No limits.

He didn’t think twice. He paid the bill and took her straight to the hotel. For the first time since landing, he walked into his room with a woman who was exactly what he had imagined.

***

As soon as he closed the door, Marcos hurriedly stripped off his clothes. Yamila watched him with mischief as he dropped the bills on the table.

—At least you’ve got size —she said, moving closer slowly—. We’ll see about the stamina.

Marcos lay back on the bed and told her to show him the goods. Yamila put on soft music on her phone and began to take off her clothes with a slow sway, first the skirt, then the blouse, letting her breasts fall free. She stayed in just her thong and a short T-shirt that outlined her nipples.

She knelt between his legs and started licking him from base to tip, unhurried, looking him in the eyes. Marcos, impatient, grabbed her head with both hands and pushed her all the way down. Yamila took him without resisting, eyes shining, and began to move fast, sucking with technique, without gagging.

After a couple of minutes, she pulled back for an instant and whispered:

—Relax. We’ve got the whole afternoon and the whole night. If you keep going like that, you’ll be done in half an hour.

She took him all the way down again and kept going. Marcos closed his eyes. At last, the trip had been worth it.

***

He turned her over on the bed, spread her legs, and lowered his head between her thighs. He licked slowly at first, parting her lips with his fingers, tracing everything with his tongue. Then he moved up to her clit and sucked hard on it, alternating with gentle nibbles. Yamila started moaning loudly, clutching the sheets, pushing her hips toward his mouth.

—No one has ever eaten me out like that —she gasped, her voice broken.

Marcos didn’t answer. He spread her ass cheeks, ran his tongue to the other hole, and started alternating between one and the other, without mercy. Yamila came before he could anticipate it, a long cry and a tremor that ran through her legs.

—Bastard —she muttered once she caught her breath—. I wasn’t expecting that.

He made her climb on top. Yamila pushed the thong aside and sat down slowly, sinking all the way in with a single motion. She started moving, first gently, then harder. Marcos slid his hands up under her T-shirt, grabbed her breasts viciously, and squeezed until her nipples hardened like stones.

She rode him as if her life depended on it, dropping her full weight, twisting her hips with each thrust. Marcos held her by the hips, helping set the rhythm. Yamila came again on top of him, this time letting herself fall forward, her breasts crushed against his torso.

—Fuck, that’s three already and you haven’t even once —she protested between gasps—. What kind of man are you?

—One with patience. Keep moving.

When he finally flipped her face down and slid his tongue between her ass cheeks, Yamila didn’t complain anymore. Marcos spat on the hole and entered slowly, centimeter by centimeter, all the way in. She let out a long moan and relaxed. He alternated deep thrusts with short movements, feeling her opening more and more every time.

Yamila had another orgasm —the fourth, he’d already lost count— before he allowed himself to come inside. When he pulled out, she stayed lying face down, breathing as if she’d run a marathon.

—You’ve wrecked me —she murmured without lifting her face from the pillow.

***

The next morning, Yamila showered, dressed, and left the one hundred and fifty dollars on the nightstand.

—I underestimated you. You’re too much for me. Keep the money, you earned it.

Marcos laughed and handed the bills back to her.

—Keep it. But do me a favor: send me someone who can keep up. A good friend, someone who can handle it.

Yamila agreed. Before noon, there was a knock on the door. She showed up with three girls, all from Cartagena, all with bodies that begged to be looked at.

—I brought you the best ones. I’ll pay half of what they charge, as compensation.

Marcos let them in and sat in the armchair like a king. He watched all three as they took off their clothes one by one, and chose the one in the middle: big natural breasts, a round firm ass, lush lips that promised a workout. Her name was Camila.

The other two got dressed and left with Yamila. Camila stayed standing in the middle of the room, naked, with that half-smile of someone who knows exactly what’s going to happen.

—Come closer. Let’s see if you can last longer than your friend.

***

Camila knelt in front of him and began with a technique Marcos had never tried before: one hand at the base squeezing slowly, the other massaging his balls with firm pressure, while her mouth went up and down with a vacuum-like suction that made him see stars. In less than a minute, he felt everything about to slip out of him.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her away.

—Slow down. If you keep that up, it’ll be over in two minutes and the whole day’s still ahead.

Camila laughed, her lips shining.

—All right, handsome. Let’s change the game.

Marcos lay back and mounted her on top. She sank all the way down and started moving with a slow rhythm that kept building heat. Her cunt burned, literally, a temperature unlike anything he remembered feeling. After a few minutes he had to stop her with two gentle taps on the thighs.

—Stop. Your pussy is so hot I’m going to come right now.

He turned her face down, spread her ass cheeks, and shoved it in from behind in one thrust. And then Camila did something he had never felt before: she began contracting her muscles in waves, sucking from the inside, as if she had another mouth working him from the hole. Every movement of Marcos was met with a rhythmic squeeze that drove him crazy.

—Fuck, you’ve got skill —he growled—. Where did you learn that?

Camila didn’t answer, just kept contracting. He didn’t last long. Marcos drove in all the way and came with a long roar, spilling inside her while she kept squeezing, milking him to the last drop.

After eating something in the room and sleeping a couple of hours, they talked about the rest of the trip.

—Stay with me until I leave. Five days. I’ll pay you one hundred and fifty a day.

—Deal. You’re the best client I’ve had in years.

***

That night they went out to dinner at a restaurant overlooking the sea and then ended up in one of those bars with neon lights where the music makes it impossible to hear anything. Camila stuck to his body, kissed his neck, slid her hand under his shirt.

That was where the other one came over. Taller, almost five foot seven, a magazine-cover body. Huge breasts that barely fit in her top, long legs, red-painted lips. Her name was Daniela. She brushed Marcos’s arm discreetly and looked at Camila with a smile of complicity.

—I can see you’ve got good company. Will you let me join? I do things she doesn’t know how to do.

Camila laughed and left the decision to him. Daniela leaned in, whispered a reasonable price in his ear, and bit his earlobe. Marcos, already hard just from hearing her, didn’t take two seconds to agree.

The three of them went back to the hotel kissing along the way. Camila and Daniela kissed each other too, laughing, promising him with their looks everything that was about to happen.

***

Marcos lay on his back in the middle of the bed. Camila settled against his side, massaging his chest with hands that knew exactly what they were doing. Daniela sat at his feet and looked at him with the same wickedness he already knew.

—Has anyone ever done it to you before? From behind, I mean?

—Never —Marcos answered, a little nervous, a little curious—. My ass is virgin.

Daniela let out a low chuckle.

—Then get ready, handsome. Because I’m going to show you something you won’t forget.

Camila took the chance to straddle his face. She pressed her pussy right over his mouth and ordered him, with a smile, to lick her deep while Daniela worked on her end.

Marcos opened his mouth and began to eat her, flat tongue, tongue inside, sucking on her lips. Meanwhile, Daniela rubbed saliva between his thighs patiently, all the way to the hole. She started with one finger, just the tip at first, circling slowly.

—Breathe deep. Let me in.

Little by little, the finger went all the way in. Daniela curled it upward, searching for a precise spot. When she found it, Marcos felt an electric shock shoot up his spine. It was different from anything he had felt before: a deep, dense pleasure coming from a place he didn’t even know existed.

Daniela began massaging that spot with circular motions while she took his cock in her mouth and started sucking slowly. Camila, on his face, rubbed herself against his tongue, moaning louder and louder.

When Daniela added the second finger, Marcos thought he was going to faint. The pressure was exact, rhythmic, as if she were milking something from inside him. Her mouth going up and down on his cock, her fingers massaging his prostate, and Camila’s pussy flattened against his mouth: three points of pleasure working at once.

Camila came first, a hot gush that bathed his chin and neck. Marcos kept licking, swallowing, while Daniela’s fingers sped up inside him.

And then it happened.

It wasn’t a normal orgasm. It wasn’t short spurts. It was as if a dam had given way inside him. The release rose from somewhere deep, passed through the prostate like a current, and came out in a continuous explosion. Thick, abundant, long.

More cum than he remembered ever spilling in his life. His legs trembled uncontrollably, his body arched on its own, and a guttural sound escaped him against Camila’s cunt.

Daniela kept sucking until he stopped releasing. Then she slowly pulled the fingers out, cleaned his cock with her mouth, and climbed up beside him, licking her lips.

—Your first prostate orgasm, handsome. It won’t be the last.

Camila let herself fall on the other side, kissed him softly, and tasted her own cum on his lips.

Marcos closed his eyes, speechless, feeling his body still vibrating minutes later.

That trip, he thought, had just changed category. And he still had five nights left.