THE CORRAL

"How do you feel about going back to the border?" asked Adela after I had confirmed my bus ticket to Matamoros.

"I have to go back," I answered. "I have to collect money from the politicians who are buying ads for my blog and Facebook."

"But do you feel uneasy about going back?"

"I have no other choice. I don't think about anything else besides my immediate responsibilities."

I've been Mexico City for four weeks. I have one more week until my return. Adela knows that life in Brownsville for me is a challenge, but she would collapse in horror if she knew all the details. Olivia appeared in a dream when I was napping. For a change, she wasn't accompanied by another man. I cannot eliminate her from my system. It has been close to a decade when she kicked me out of the house for kicking her dog after it tried to bite me. I should have kicked her, instead, she had left so many psychological marks on me, but she would have called the police.

I have never loved a woman more. But her filthy past, her sexual insults directed towards me, her lack of appreciation for all I did for her two children that I treated like my own and her penchant for libidinous behavior since our separation have been mortal wounds. This tornado of torment swirls in my mind sometimes as much as on an hourly basis. Anger courses through me. There isn't a day that doesn't go by that I don't scream at the sky, "Puta!"

When I met her she was 28. She had braces. Now she is 50 and her body has collapsed in its battle against gravity. Her tits hang to her belly and her butt has widened. She wears blouses with the tails covering her expanding derriere. One of the last times I fucked her I screwed her dog-style and all I could see was this lump of flabby flesh. We seldom coupled in this manner and I felt this was my expression of degradation as if I were sticking my dick in a hole in the wall.

She likes sex and the number of lovers in her life attests to her appetite. Her proclivity to give herself so easily has always exasperated me. I have never experienced a hate like the hate I feel burning my insides when I think of her. 

I am also going back to copious sex. There is 22-year-old Carolina who is studying to be a veterinarian. She is a lesbian. She pulls out her cell and shows me the different gals she has as part of her corral. They are beauties. Carolina says that she has only been with one man, her only boyfriend. She says she wants to settle down one day and have a family, but she boasts about her youth and she wants to experience life. She is cute and treats me with affection. I ejaculate inside her after having convinced her that I had had a vasectomy and there were no fears of pregnancy. She believes me.

"If you got pregnant, would you have the child or would you have an abortion?"

"I would have the child," she replied with the same enthusiasm that she revels in her youth. "If the father didn't want to help me, I would raise the child myself."

"If you were married, would you like to get together with other gals once in a while?"

"Yes," she smiled.

Que chula mamacita! I pay her $50 although on the open market she would easily fetch $200 to $300. There are times she'll request a $100 for a pressing bill or an emergency and I gladly reward her.

Then there is Karla. She is the 32-year-old mother of two and is studying to be a nurse. She also lives in Matamoros. She looks 25 and is stunning with a svelte body and upturned tits. There isn't a stretch mark on her body. She is married, but she and her husband have been separated for a year and she sees a fellow nursing student who thinks she is his faithful girlfriend.

Karla is one of those females who can experience two or three orgasms with minimal excitation, but she does compliment me on my performances. She loves the way I eat her. I remember when my father would wrestle me to the ground and grind his whiskers into my face. I was laughing and crying at the same time. Karla's experience is similar. After cumming, she drops like a boxer who has taken a right to the chin. She had an operation and I don't have to worry about closing the spigot to my hose. I slip her a C-note.

The rest of the lineup: There is Viva, a lusty, busty 25-year old who thinks of herself as an artist--$100. There is Elena, a woman in her late fifties or early sixties who at the supermarket you would mistake for a doting grandmother--$50. There is Rita. She is in her early fifties, but she is an exercise buff with fake tits--$75. There is Romana for those moments when there isn't anyone else or I'm short of cash--$20. There are others, but I can't think of them right now. Oh yeah, Noelia comes to mind. She'll leave a text that reads: "What's up?" If I'm in the mood, I'll give her the okay--$40. And there are the downtown prostitutes--$25 to $50--who occasionally catch my eye.