The next program on the Mexican channel was less interesting, but she didn't bother to get up and switch to another station. Inside her mind another program was beginning to play, and it was like nothing TV had ever broadcast! One by one the obscene photographs she'd been so stunned by that afternoon kept flashing into her consciousness.
At first it was upsetting and she tried to drive the horrid mental images away. But they refused to go. The more she fought them the more vivid they became. Soon Paula gave up, sighing as she shut her eyes. She realized instantly that shutting her eyes and relaxing had been a mistake, because her mental images grew even more vivid and lifelike. They were still awful, but now she found them exciting as well. She knew she shouldn't find such obscene trash exciting, and she tried not to let it affect her.
It did affect her, though, and soon her pink nipples were turning hard and her stomach was literally full of those pleasant butterflies. The Mexican shine boy's face came before her, handsome and smug as he pointed at her crotch and said, "You liked them. I see you are wet." And she had been wet. When she'd undressed for a cool shower as soon as they'd returned to the motel, Paula had discovered her panty crotch was soaked with secretions.
And she was secreting again, she realized with a start, even more than in the afternoon. The juices were beginning to boil inside her loins just from thinking about it. Her virgin pussy felt strange all hot and hungry and itchy!
"What's happening to me?" she moaned softly. "Am I losing my mind?"
My mind, she thought. It's only in my mind. It can't hurt anything if it's only in my mind. I feel so strange! I wish – oh God, I really do wish I was the girl in those dirty pictures!
And she became the girl in her mind – not Paula Strickland, the minister's daughter, but a lustful worldly girl, taking great joy as she dove mentally into an orgy of sexual sinfulness. The man in the pictures became the shabby but handsome shine boy. They were lying together – this other girl, not Paula Strickland – kissing passionately and handling each other's sex organs. Then this other Paula – this total stranger – was kneeling over the dark boy's body and taking his hard cock eagerly into her mouth, sucking it wildly and moaning with lust.
The moans were real, Paula realized dimly. They were coming from her own throat. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and her young loins were threatening to burst into flames at any second. She reached quickly between her legs and cupped herself, moaning aloud at the thrilling contact, her fingers and palm feeling the wet, warm fluid which was oozing from her feverish cunt. She rubbed herself unashamedly, still thinking of her mouth – no, the other girl's mouth – on the hot male organ. She stuck two fingers into her mouth and sucked them loudly as her fingers worked under her soaked crotchband and began to trace the elliptical opening of her parting cunt lips.
Then she – no, the other Paula – was on her back and the boy was on top of her, pressing his hard cock into her as the man had done in the picture.
"I wish I'd bought the damned things," she muttered.
No! a voice inside her snapped. You wouldn't want anything like that. Think how terrible it would be if your parents found them!
"Right. I'm glad I didn't buy them, but I wish… I wish…"
Paula didn't know what she wished. Her mind was being bombarded by extremely powerful but totally new sensations, and she felt utterly confused by it all. She pushed her panties down her thighs and kicked them completely off the bed, then spread her legs wide and rubbed her hairy mound and her puffy lips, letting her finger slide inside part way and tickle her throbbing clitoris.
She abruptly changed hands, licking and sucking her own juice from her fingers as her spit-slick fingers began rubbing and dipping into her steaming cunt. She was careful not to damage her precious hymen. But she did press against it until she felt pain, imagining the pain was caused by the Mexican boy's hard cock entering her – and loving the sensation.
"Ohhh… oh, fuck me!" she panted, shocked at hearing such a dirty phrase rip from her mouth, but excited all the more by the lustful sound of it.
Paula kept changing hands, sucking and fingering, getting hotter and hotter as she saw the Mexican boy and the other Paula join together inside her mind. It was so real she could almost feel his big cock entering her own sweat-damp body.
"This is crazy," she moaned.
But it was terribly thrilling to think about, and she was only thinking about it! It can't hurt, she told her conscience. It isn't really happening! And her conscience, dulled by the lust which had overwhelmed her young body, gave up and went away.
It was all pleasure for Paula after that. She writhed and rubbed, sucked and groaned, secure in the knowledge that such a thing could never actually happen to her! And since she was alone no one could ever possibly know what she was thinking and doing to herself. It wasn't as if she hadn't touched herself there before. She had, but never this thrillingly, and never for this long.
"Good Lord!" she gasped, suddenly stiffening as an orgasm swept over her for the first time in her life.
The room spun dizzily as her body twitched and jerked. She panted for breath, whimpering and groaning as she bit her lower lip and tossed her head wildly from side to side, giving herself up entirely to the blinding joy of her first climax.
CHAPTER TWO
As they neared the downtown section of Juarez, Elliott reached across the seat of the taxi and took Ruth's hand. They'd decided it best to go by taxi and leave their car at the motel, thinking rightly there would be little available parking space during the early evening rush, and fearing possible theft of the clothing and cameras in their car, if not the car itself.
Feeling the tenseness in his pretty wife, Elliott suggested, "You can still go back to the motel, honey."
She pulled her hand from his. "We've already been over that. I'm going with you, and that's final."
"Where to?" the driver asked, turning onto the garishly lit main street.
"You want to get your velvet painting first?"
"Naw, forget it. You're right. Those things are grotesque."
"Well, I'm relieved. You would've had to hang it in your study, you know. I certainly wouldn't want one of those bright monstrosities in the house."
"Drop it, will you?"
"Where to?" the driver demanded. "We are downtown. Some particular place you want go?"
"No. Let us out here," Elliott said, taking out his wallet as the driver pulled his cab to the curb and stopped.
"You lookin' for fun?" the driver asked.
"Yes," Elliott said. "We're going to take in a few shows."
"I take you to best night club in Juarez… La Fiesta. Big names from your country entertain there. Very high-class place."
"No. That isn't exactly the kind of entertainment we have in mind," Elliott said.
The pudgy Mexican face smiled knowingly. "Just strippers and dancers here downtown. You want see a special show?"
"A special show?"
"You know, senor."
The tone of the man's voice made Elliott know. "Yes, I think I do know. But I don…"
"Anything you want see. I take you."
"I'm sure you can, bu…"
"Real dirty show. Live. Anything you want see."
"No!" Elliott snapped, handing the driver a five and waiting for his change.
"I'll be around if you change your mind," the driver called as Elliott climbed from the taxi and held the door for Ruth.