Dorita lived in a one room shed built into the el of two high walls facing a crooked alley. The interior was clean and as luxurious as her meager salary plus tips could make it. The walls had been painted a rather shocking pink and covered with pasted-up pictures cut from magazines. Aside from the usual brace of saints, Dorita had cut out fashion plates from a Sears Roebuck catalogue and a French magazine for women. A gruesomely realistic crucifix hung over the head of the battered brass bedstead in one corner. The other furniture was improvised from shipping crates, painted a tasteful fire engine red.
A beehive fireplace occupied another corner, along with a work shelf covered with pots and pans. As Dorita barred the door behind them, she said, “The fire is out, of course. I will light another to take the chill from the air. Meanwhile, why do you not remove that dripping poncho?”
He said, “Uh, I’m not wearing anything under it.”
She laughed incredulously. Then she said, “No. Don’t explain. I doubt if I’d believe it, anyway.”
Then she said, “You’re going to be sick if you don’t get out of that wet wool.”
She removed her own damp tarp and hat, hanging them on a nail. Then, as she turned in her blouse and skirt to find him still standing there as he was, she sighed and said, “Would it make you less shy if I was naked, too?”
He blinked and replied, “I think it would help a lot. But weren’t you just on your way to church?”
She frowned and asked, “What has religion to do with avoiding a cold?”
Then she started to unfasten her blouse. She stopped just before removing it to ask, “Uh, don’t you think we should be properly introduced, Señor? I told you I am called Dorita.”
“I’m Dick Walker, Dorita.”
“Deek.” She nodded, satisfied. Then she took off her blouse with the innocent attitude of a child undressing to go swimming.
Captain Gringo’s breath caught as he caught sight of her firm breasts. For all her impassive expression, the nipples were at full attention. It made him feel less shy about his own erection as he stepped over to the bed, turned his back, and removed the wet poncho.
He took off the gun belt and hung it on a bedpost. Then he sat down facing her, legs up and close together.
Dorita had taken off the skirt and was coming across the room. Nobody had ever had a figure like that. He knew he was still hotter than hell from the frustrated and drugged orgy with Tina the night before.
He expected her to sit beside him. But Dorita sank to her knees near the head of the bed, crossed herself, and began to pray.
He stared down, bemused, at the part of her humbly bent head as Dorita said her prayers. He waited, respectfully, until she finished, smiled up at him, and said, “There. Now we can fuck.”
As she climbed roguishly atop the bedspread at his side and rolled on her back, he laughed and asked, “Do you always say your prayers before you do this sort of thing?”
She seemed genuinely puzzled as she replied, “One must pray before one goes to bed. I don’t think I like that remark about this sort of thing. What do you take me for, a bad girl?”
He said, “I think you’re an angel of mercy,” as he rolled over on his side, put a hand on one breast, and started to kiss her.
But Dorita said, “Wait. I do not want you to think I am a puta. If you think I invited you here because of the money you gave me—”
“Hey, friends don’t have to explain, right?”
“I’ll have you know I am most particular. I do not go to bed with every man I meet, you know.”
He said, “Sure,” and, since her mouth was busy, started kissing his way down her throat. He’d never figured out why so many women seemed to think these last minute protestations were expected of them, but he’d learned the best way to deal with them. He kissed her nipples as his hand deserted them to explore more interesting fields of action, and as his fingers ploughed through the thatch between her brown thighs, Dorita spread them and arched her spine, saying, “I don’t know if we should be doing this. I only brought you here because I didn’t want the guardsmen to shoot you.”
He rose and rolled atop her, stopping her weak protests with a kiss as she helped him get it in. He gasped in pleasure as her warm clean flesh enveloped his. He really had been frustrated by the last woman he’d been with and Dorita rolled her head aside to plead, “Easy! I have not been with a man for months and … Oh, you have not been with a woman, either!”
She locked her ankles over his upper spine and for the next few marvelous minutes Dorita had nothing further to say. They made love with the innocent hunger of healthy young animals and if the bedsprings broke, they broke.
But, despite their best efforts, the bedstead stood up to the punishment until he’d climaxed twice and, from the sounds she made, Dorita had come at least three times. As he slowed to rest and get his breath back, she sighed and said, “That was lovely. Don’t take it out. Don’t ever take it out.”
He laughed and said, “I can’t go anywhere until Monday, remember?”
She lowered her eyes and murmured, “I have been most wicked. That is why I prayed for forgiveness to Santa Maria.”
He kissed her eyelids and said, “Come on, we’ve established that you only do this with your best friends, Dorita.”
She said, “Pooh, I am not ashamed of fucking. Even Queen Victoria fucks. But it is wrong to lie.”
He felt his mouth go dry as he asked, cautiously, “Oh? You mean you made that up about your husband being shot by the government men?”
“Of course not. Do you think I would have brought you here if I was friendly with the army?”
“The thought crossed my mind. What did you lie about, if you’re really on my side?”
She said, “I will tell you later. You will despise me as a wicked woman and I am still feeling most amorous.”
“Hey, come on, don’t play games, Dorita. It makes me nervous as Hell. I thought I’d be safe, here.”
She said, “You are. Nobody ever comes here uninvited, and I assure you I have not invited anyone but you here, recently. Would you move it inside me some more? It feels so good and it’s been so long since I’ve had a real man.”
He said, “Let’s try it with you on your hands and knees. New tricks call for new muscles. But, first, I want you to tell me what you mean when you say you lied to me.”
She said, “Later. I want to come again.”
He started to argue. Then he got a better idea. He got off and stood by the bed as he rolled her over and raised her firm brown rump. She giggled and said, “Oh, this seems very naughty, in broad daylight.”
He noticed she had her tailbone tucked under as he took a buttock in each hand to mount her from behind. He said, “Arch your back the other way.”
But she protested, “No, you’ll see too much.”
He wet a finger and began to ream her bashful rectum with it as he soothed, “There, it’s out of sight. I can’t get in your pussy unless you loosen up.”
She suddenly arched her spine and thrust up at him, taking his finger to the second knuckle by surprise. He saw he hadn’t hurt her, so he left it in as he fumbled his semi-erection in place below it. He put it half way in and stopped.
Dorita wagged her rump like a happy puppy and pleaded, “More, I want it all.”
He said, “First you tell me what you lied about.”
“That’s not fair! You’re teasing me!”
“I know. That makes two of us. Tell me, Dorita. I swear I’ll take it out if you don’t tell me.”
She sobbed and said, “You’re a beast! It’s no wonder you rut like a bull from behind!”
“What did you lie about, honey?”
She tried to move up his shaft, gave up, and sighed, “All right, damn it. If you must know, the market is not closed on Sunday. It’s open right this minute.”
He laughed and asked, “Jesus, is that all?”
Then he thrust hard and hit bottom.
She gasped in pleased surprise and as he started pounding her she asked, “Oh, lovely! Am I forgiven, my marvelous bull?”
He said, “Shit, I knew the markets down here are open on Sunday. It’s the only time in the week the peones come to town from the surrounding countryside.”
“You knew, and yet you let me tempt you here? Oh, yes, just keep it moving straight while I twist.”
He said, “Hell, I was hoping you had this in mind, Dorita. I told you last night I wanted to see you after the cantina closed, remember?”
She started to answer, then she stiffened and started to fall forward as she climaxed. He followed her across the bed as best he could, but they lost contact on the way down and he was almost there himself. As she flattened on the bed, legs straight and slightly parted, he grasped his wet shaft and guided it between her quivering brown buttocks. It felt tight as hell as he got the head in, braced himself on his hands, and thrust. It was too tight to be true and he realized he was in the wrong hole as Dorita gasped, “Oh, God, you’re splitting me and I’m coming again!”
He knew he should take it out, but it was too late. . He thrust twice more and felt himself exploding inside her like a star shell. He stopped and said, “Just relax and let me take it out slow. It’ll hurt if you tighten up.”
But Dorita said, “Just stay that way for now, while I get myself down from heaven.”
“You like it that way?”
“Hush. I like it every way. Why do you think I brought you here, you glorious brute?”
So, after they’d washed themselves off and had a smoke, they spent the rest of the morning exploring each other.
Every time they changed positions Dorita protested that she didn’t usually do such things; then did them very well indeed. By now the sun was out and she still looked pretty, but after a time anything gets to be work. He asked her to go down on him and she said she couldn’t. Then she gave him a blow job that would have cost a week’s pay in any cow town back in the States. He comforted her by offering the same common courtesies and pointing out that some Frenchman had written a man has never really possessed a woman until he’s come in her all three ways. Dorita seemed to think if a French person had said it, it must be refined, after all.
By noon, even she was satisfied, for the moment. So they ate tortillas and fried plantana and he sent her out to buy him some clothes.
She was only gone about an hour, but it seemed more like a million years as Captain Gringo waited, gun in-hand, behind the barred door. He knew it was a dumb time to suddenly consider the possibility she’d betray him for the price on his head. But it was hard not to worry about it. Tina hadn’t been the first lady who’d set him up to be taken. If he lived long enough, he knew she wouldn’t be the last.
Sure, Dorita had told him he was fantastic in bed, but he’d lied when he told her she was the best he’d ever had, too. The person you were screwing at the moment was always the best. Things looked different after you’d cooled down and started to think. Had he told her about the rewards posted by the U.S. Army, Mexico, and probably Colombia by now?
He didn’t think so. He’d gotten pretty good about what he told people drunk or sober, in or out of bed, since he’d been on the run.
But if Dorita only knew, or even guessed, she stood to make more than most people down here would ever see, simply by dropping by the U.S. Consulate on her way to market and … Wait, the Consulate would be up in Managua in the first place, and closed for the weekend in the second.
If she knew that, it was small wonder she wanted to keep him here until Monday. Yeah, right now she could be slipping the word to a friend, who could hop the next steamboat to Managua and …
“Easy,” he warned himself. He knew the fine line a man in his position had to draw between suspicion and trust. He’d made a study of the subject since taking it up for a living. Many a man had been betrayed to the law by friends he’d trusted. On the other hand, Jesse James had died after nearly twenty years of methodical banditry because he’d gotten too suspicious. The Ford boys hadn’t killed him for the reward, or because they were the “Dirty little cowards” of the legend. In his last days James had turned on the kith and kin who’d been hiding him for years. He’d savagely beaten Bob Ford’s uncle because of some fancied betrayal. Then had been chump enough to invite Bob Ford for dinner!
Being on the run could twist a man’s soul. You couldn’t trust anyone, but you couldn’t start frothing at the mouth at everyone, either. You had to take each day as it came, and try to keep cool.
So where was that damned girl and what was the cool thing to do if she didn’t get back pretty soon?
He couldn’t go out in the crowded streets without any clothes on. Not in broad daylight. He wouldn’t get a block without attracting attention.
On the other hand, if Dorita had ratted on him, or been picked up, he’d be trapped here when they came for him. There wasn’t even a back door, for Chris-sake!
Okay, why would they pick her up? Easy. They’d picked her up once before. They knew she was the widow of a man they thought was a rebel, at least. If they were looking for rebels or gunrunners in town, the logical step would be to round up everyone they had on file and ...
“Half an hour more,” he decided. You could walk through the whole damned town and back in less than two hours. How the hell long did it take to buy a few things?
He waited the half hour and decided to sweat out another ten minutes. Dorita came back in five. She knocked and called softly to him through the door. He had his gun out as he opened it, but she was alone.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, as she placed her shopping basket on the shelf. She added, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
He said, “It goes with the business I’m in. How did you make out at the market?”
She smiled and said, “I was most careful. I bought each thing at a separate shop or stall. Nobody asked any questions. By the way, I met your friend, the Frenchman, near the church.”
“Gaston’s there now?” he gasped, moving over to the basket and putting the gun down.
Dorita said, “Wait. He won’t be there, now. He asked me if I’d seen you. I said I might have, and he said he’d be at the paseo around the plaza, tonight. He said he’d circle the square counterclockwise and that you should circle clockwise, just after dark.”
Captain Gringo frowned and asked, “Why didn’t you bring him here?”
“Do you think I’m crazy? The last time the army questioned me they beat me and raped me for three days and nights.”
“But you brought me here.”
“True. I wanted for to fuck you more than I wanted for to live, but your friend is not my type. Besides, he did not ask me to take him to you. Your friend has a wise look above his innocent smile. I do not think he is inclined to follow strange women anywhere he is not sure about.”
Captain Gringo smiled thinly and said, “That sounds like Gaston, all right. What have we got, here?”
She said, “Mosquito boots and the sort of cotton twill a plantation foreman wears, as you suggested. I got you one of those planter’s hats most of you gringos wear. Nobody you meet will ever take you for a peon in any case, but, as you know, there are many Americanos here in Nicaragua and the government discourages shooting at them.”
He took the khaki twill shirt from the basket and said, “Perfect. Let’s see if it fits.”
But Dorita said, “Don’t get dressed, yet. The walk has restored my desire. You don’t have to meet your friend for many hours, yet.”
Before he could answer, she’d started peeling her own clothes off and added, “I know they will fit you, my bull. I have measured your body well with my eyes as well as other things.”
He laughed and said, “I’d say I could buy you the right size of drawers, too. I guess they’ll have to do, whether they fit or not. I don’t want to sweat out another couple of hours alone in here.”
Dorita went over to the bed, lay down, and spread her thighs in invitation as she purred, “You are not alone, my bull. I am her with you, all of me. And I am so hot I can taste it.”