A TRIBUTE to the KING

The Painted Ladies Sit Just There...

In my bed in the dark I can’t sleep… Los Tambos…tightly bordering verdurous jungle…tirelessly sprawling sun-splashed slum. I’m still trying to decipher this joint. Tired gringos and young tourists nurse beers in the brothel below. It’s all going to work out. Maybe there’ll even be an odd Romance or two.

If I want pussy I’ll have to stumble over and ask for it politely. I’m in the minority among males in this room,
and the girls focus on the more important clients: British soldier boys planted for a year's service here in the jungle. They regard it an easy tour, though not the greatest.

Lots of guys but too few girls…a bawled half-sentence in rich Cockney…laughter…the giggling start of a reply in slangy Spanish…lustful hand reaches into tank-top, squeezes and pulls out young, full breast…hand is slapped away…Marietta jumps up, her bottom flounces into darkness…but the soldier jumps up also and follows…catches up to her…

I think about Dragana and get hard. I haven’t come for a month. With prick in hand, I peel down Cecelia’s tank-top, and place my swollen cock between her soft brown tits...glistening, oily, warm. I come in my hand and wipe it on the far side of the bed so I won’t have to sleep in a wet spot.