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  I don't know how long she was there, but I do know my cock swelled in Victoria's mouth when I did notice the raincoated beauty, her innocent face a picture of confused astonishment.

  'We have company,' David said what I was unable to, clearly unperturbed at being watched.

  Victoria didn't respond immediately - not even when the astounded girl asked what was going on, speaking gingerly with an accent every bit as highbrow as Victoria's.

  Eventually, though, she did slide my cock from her mouth - with some reluctance, I like to think - and turned to her friend. 'Amanda,' she panted enthusiastically, 'these boys are giving me the best time of my life.'

  The girl momentarily looked disgusted and took a retrograde step, but she didn't disappear altogether.

  'Oh, Amanda,' Victoria cooed, 'it's fantastic! Come here. Look how red my bottom is. What a spanking they gave me!'

  Amanda stayed where she was, but her wide-eyed gaze flickered surreptitiously down to my rigid cock as Victoria gripped it in her fist. It lurched proudly under the furtive inspection.

  'Come here...' Victoria coaxed. 'Come on, they won't bite - well, maybe a little.'

  Amanda hesitated as the three of us watched her, and then advanced one uncertain step. From the contours of the raincoat I could tell it contained a pair of large firm breasts, a narrow waist, and shapely hips.

  'Jonathan...' whispered Victoria, conspiratorially, 'go and say hello to Amanda.'

  I let go of Victoria's luscious breasts and clambered off the bed. Amanda didn't move. She didn't leave. Her mouth remained open, her moist red lips inviting beyond belief. I was hesitant, not believing that Amanda would welcome any attention from me, not wanting to scare her off. It seemed so preposterous; me standing there totally naked and Amanda fully clothed in her raincoat, still buttoned and belted at the waist.

  She still did not move, but stared at me with her large eyes, conveying a whole melange of feelings: excitement, fear, amazement, desire.

  I could smell the alluring aroma of her perfume. Carefully, I reached out and unbuttoned the top button of her raincoat. She did nothing to object. My cock stiffened even more as I realised the innocent beauty was submitting to my advances. I freed the next button... and then the next. Her hair was a little wet; she must have been caught in a summer shower. The belt was unbuckled and swung free, the last few buttons yielded, and then the coat fell open with a sexy rustle. Underneath she wore a tight black skirt that confirmed my previous assessment of her curvaceous hips, and a white blouse, the top few buttons of which were undone to show a deep and inviting cleavage. Her breasts were indeed large, and looked deliciously firm.

  She didn't stop me as I slipped the coat from her shoulders and let it slither to the floor. Barely able to control my excited fingers, but trying desperately to maintain an air of confident control, I quickly opened her blouse and feasted upon the sight of her soft smooth breasts bursting over a lacy red bra.

  Still she said nothing, but watched what I was doing with innocent intensity. I undid the front-fastening bra and her fantastic breasts spilled forth. I cupped them, kneaded them. They were soft and silky smooth to my touch. Her eyes closed and her lashes fluttered prettily: the first sign of carnal interest. I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply. My tongue slipped between her pouting lips without encountering any resistance; her lipstick tasted wonderful. Her breasts squashed against my chest as I cupped her lovely bottom through the skirt and squeezed her close. Her firm belly squirmed against my erection and I almost had a very embarrassing crisis. Behind me, I could hear the bed creaking rhythmically and David and Victoria encouraging each other to orgasm.

  I pulled Amanda onto the bed beside them, then entwined my legs around her body, my cock prodding her midriff. I slid her a little further down so I could watch Victoria in the last throes of her climax as I did what I wanted. I grasped Amanda's breasts in both hands and slid my cock between them, then moved her head so that when I pushed my cock up, her mouth met the tip.

  I could not believe this girl: so luscious, her eyes staring into mine. She was passive and unresisting. I was screwing the breasts of an irresistible girl and I had barely said a word to her.

  David and Victoria were still going strong. He was now fucking her doggy-fashion, and both of them were watching me as I continued to push and pull my cock between Amanda's fulsome breasts.

  She started to suck me more avidly, her lips awakening on my helmet. Levering my cock from her sumptuous chest, I edged closer to her mouth, my cock bobbing as I moved. She accepted it greedily, licking the head as her sharp nails dug into my buttocks. Then she slid her lips further until her mouth was full and her cute nose nestled into my pubic hair, before slowly and teasingly sliding back up, grazing her teeth against the skin, until she again reached the tip.

  I teased my cock from her mouth - she followed it, enchantingly reluctant to let it go - and urgently unzipping her skirt, I rolled it down past her knees and let it slip to the floor. I hooked my thumbs into her panties and sent them the same way as the skirt. I stared, transfixed by the exquisite sight of her lying before me.

  At the moment when Victoria and David climaxed, I pushed deep into Amanda's lovely tight pussy. She gasped again, but this time from excitement rather than shock.

  David and Victoria disentangled themselves and crouched over Amanda. David held her down by the shoulders and Victoria gently stroked her damp fringe from her perspiring forehead. They watched her reactions intently as I screwed her with fervour.

  'Go on, Jonathan, go on...' Victoria urged, drawing a groan from her beautiful flatmate by pinching one of her erect nipples.

  David was insatiable. He crouched over Amanda and pinned her arms down with his knees. He then cradled her head in his hands and fed his revitalised cock between her scarlet lips. Victoria leaned close to me and reached between my thighs to milk my balls, her eyes glazed as she watched me pistoning in and out of Amanda's wet sex.

  A sudden impulse hit me. I buried my fingers in Victoria's lustrous hair and pushed her face down. She needed no instruction, and I felt her tongue lap against the underside of my cock as it pumped in and out. Amanda groaned anew around the column of stiff flesh that stretched her lips wide, and rolled her head from side to side, and I guessed Victoria had found her clitoris. I stroked Victoria's back and raised silky buttocks, and then slipped a couple of fingers into her sopping pussy and matched them to the rhythm of my hips.

  This was utter heaven! This was beyond my wildest fantasies; probably beyond all of our wildest fantasies. David was a bloody hero for instigating it.

  I knew Amanda was close to coming. Her breasts rose as she breathed deeply around David's cock. It was no good, I could hold on no longer. I pulled out and immediately felt Victoria suck me in between her lips. Amanda whimpered deliriously as she came. David pulled free and furiously masturbated, his helmet resting on her glistening lips, and quickly shot his thick cream over her angelic face. The sight was too much for me, and Victoria had to swallow furiously as I drained myself in her skilful mouth.

  This was the David I had known. This was the friend I had got drunk with, shared women with. As I lay on my bed and dreamt of all the beautiful girls I might meet in Buenos Aires, I wondered what had happened to him. Could he really have become lost in his greed for money and power, and so disinterested in the joys of the flesh? Both of us seemed so far away now from the young men of those carefree days.

  Great sex was what we had wanted and what we had enjoyed. Five failed years of domesticity proved to me that it was what I still wanted. But what of David; what did he want? I no longer knew.

  Chapter 4

  Buenos Aires was amorphous to me, not only topographically, but existentially; the city spread out before me like my own uncertain future. I did not really know what Buenos Aires could mean to me or what it might do for me; whether I was on the cusp of some mighty signi
ficant change in my life, or whether, the fabulous Andrea aside, my time here would pass without consequence or event. I was in unknown territory.

  In truth I knew very little about Buenos Aires or even Argentina, little more than what anybody knows: all the tango and polo stuff, the risible generals and the football fanaticism, the attempt at democracy and the prevalence of corruption.

  In the next few days I was to learn so much more.

  So what did I discover? Well, maybe a more balanced man - a less obsessed man - may have noticed the ferocity of the traffic, the death-defying speed of the collectivos, or the occasional niceties of architecture. Perhaps he might have taken pleasant strolls around charming old Palermo or ambled around the more ostentatious streets in the Barrio Norte. He may have laboured with his guidebook in museums and cathedrals, in famous bars and parrillas. He may have ventured to Boca, been impressed by the brightly painted wooden shacks of La Camionetta, or studied the fervour of football, its ubiquitous presence in the life of porteños. He could have watched the tourists hunt for a bargain in the tat at the old antique markets, before watching the Sunday tango dances in San Telmo.

  I did notice much of this, but only in passing, as one notices a mild distraction: for what consumed my interest, as I gradually familiarised myself with the city streets, were women. The glorious wealth of female beauty that filled - nay, congested - the streets of the city. It was everywhere. The city seemed to vibrate on sex. So many types, so beautiful, wonderful combinations of race and age, colour and style. The place was rife with lust. Buenos Aires seemed to thrive on the heady aroma of sexual possibility.

  I walked around with my head constantly turned. My heart raced on buses and trains. I stared longingly at girls in bars and cafés. So many women, everywhere, a city choked on lasciviousness. How did these poor boys manage? How could they be blasé about it? I wasn't.

  David phoned me a couple of days after I arrived. He woke me from another mildly erotic dream about his wife.

  I staggered out of bed, disorientated, confused, melancholic at losing Andrea, even if it was only from the fantasy world of my sleeping imagination.

  'Hey, Jonathan. You're here.'

  'Hello, David.'

  'Things okay?'

  'Fine, thanks.' I was struggling to find my voice, to find any voice capable of answering simple questions on a telephone.

  'I'm ringing from Santiago. I'll be back in a couple of days. I'm sorry about all this.'

  'It's okay.'

  'I understand Andrea met you off the plane.'

  'Yes, no problem.' I felt like I should say something complimentary about his wife. The situation called for it: a sign of respect for his spouse's hospitality, or at least some comment showing my approval of his choice of partner. But from all the things that I could say about Andrea - and they were legion - none were suitable listening for her husband.

  'She said you got on well.'

  A vision again of Andrea, the plump, white cheeks of her bottom brightening red under the rough discipline of my hands, came to mind.

  'Yes. You're a lucky man, David.'

  'I know, I know.' He sounded sincere enough. 'She's going to ring you today. I spoke to her this morning. She wants to show you around town a little. She's been a little tied up.'

  I wondered whether David realised the literal plausibility of his last statement. 'No, that's all right. I understand. I don't want you or Andrea to go out of your way.' I wasn't so concerned about David diverting himself from his habitual path, but I wanted Andrea to go as far out of her way as was necessary to repeat our previous encounter.

  'Don't be so bloody stupid. I can't wait to see you. There's lots to talk about.'

  'Me too, David.'

  'When I get back, you have to come to my office. There are some things for us to sort out.'

  This sounded vague. What things could he mean? What needed sorting out? I was about to ask him.

  'Sorry, Jonathan, I'd like to chat, but I really have to go. See you soon, buster.'

  Maybe it was the 'I'd like to chat, but...' line, but this sounded like the same David from the last time we had met: too distracted by business, by making money, ringing me out of some sense of duty, some vaguely half-remembered tie that bound him to call me, out of obligation and civility. I suspected - despite his cheerfulness and all his expressions about wanting to meet me - that his desire to see me was not very strong. In truth, neither was mine to see him: not any more.

  Later in the evening, Andrea did call. I had stayed in all day waiting by the phone.

  'Hola! Como te va?' The voice was enough to stir me; so lush, so sexy.

  'Hello, Andrea.'

  'I owe the apology.'

  'For what?'

  'I did want to see you, Jonathan. I really wanted, but is some problems. I have been a little occupado. I call as soon as I can. I can meet tomorrow for a coffee, if you like. Remember, I have something to prove to you. I give a big surprise, promise.'

  I had a fair idea of what she had in mind, but I was disappointed that there wasn't any possibility of seeing her sooner. I craved her body.

  'Jonathan, I want to do so many things with you. I really, really cannot wait for the next time.'

  It was the last thing she said before hanging up.

  The next day, not having to wait for calls, and a couple of hours away from meeting Andrea, I decided to go in search of some of that feminine beauty I had witnessed parading around the streets of the city. Where I would find amenable women and how I would communicate with them with my poor Spanish were true obstacles - but not insurmountable, I thought. There are always possibilities in cities. I had known this for a long time. It was a pity I had wasted five years of my life not taking any of them.

  After breakfasting on fresh strawberries and cream - a complementary gift from the obese hotel proprietor, along with a couple of bottles of beer and several cuts of chorizo and ham - I walked down the wooden staircase. A notice informed me that the lift, in true Argentinean fashion, was entered at my own risk, the hotel not liable if I plunged to my death.

  On the first floor I noticed one of the rooms was slightly ajar. Nosy as I always am in hotels, I slowed my pace to a crawl to peek inside the door. I was not disappointed, for I got a superb eyeful of the chambermaid's rear as she bent over to retrieve some rubbish from the floor. Her short skirt was raised to the bareness of her tanned thighs, the contours of her fleshy rump clearly visible through the thin black fabric.

  She must have heard my footsteps on the parquet floor, however stealthily I had tried to creep past the door. She straightened effortlessly and turned around, revealing her large coal-black eyes and a mantel of glossy dark shoulder-length hair. She held my eyes for a moment, seemingly a little surprised to find me staring at her.

  'Si, señor?'

  I was a little embarrassed to have been caught so obviously leching at her voluptuous body. I mumbled a good morning and left her to the cleaning, a half-smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  One flight of stairs lower and still contemplating the horny sight of the chambermaid's robust buttocks, I arrived in the foyer, where two delightful blondes in thin cotton summer dresses were making their way to the main door.

  'Oh come on Stephanie, we're going to be late,' the blonde with the green eyes and the short cropped hair said to her taller friend, as the latter fumbled in her bag for something.

  'Look, I know they're in here somewhere. Oh, look, here they are.' Two delightful English girls: the shorter was strawberry blonde, and the taller, more languorous-looking one had flowing golden curls.

  The one named Stephanie pulled her room keys from her bag, jangled them in front of her companion, and then dropped them back inside.

  I couldn't resist the opportunity.

  'Are you two English?' I enquired. Okay, it was a stupid thing to
say. They were clearly not Argentinean, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

  Both women turned around to look at me, surprised maybe that someone should address them in their native tongue.

  They both had separate charms. The short punky one with the tight polka-dot dress and the dark purple eye-shadow looked lively and, although the slimmer, had enticingly large breasts. The taller one, Stephanie, wore a slightly longer floral dress. Her make-up was more discreet and conventional, and she had the most beautiful large brown eyes and an alluring broad mouth with pale pink lips.

  'Yes, we are,' Stephanie said, her face broadening to a smile and her eyes brightening as she looked at me.

  'Hi. My name's Jonathan, Jonathan Rose.'

  'Oh, Jonathan Rose - how English! Hi, I'm Stephanie and this is Frankie.' Frankie looked a little impatient, nodded her hello but did not offer her hand, as Stephanie had done.

  'What brings you here?' I asked as I felt the warmth of her hand, holding it in mine for a moment longer than was necessary.

  'Oh, we're going to live here. We're English teachers,' Stephanie answered obligingly. 'At least, I hope we're going to live here, if we ever get to find a job.'

  'Which is why we're in a bit of a rush,' Frankie added. 'We're already late for our interview.'

  'Sorry, I don't want to make you late, girls.' Saying the word 'girls' to them was delicious, the carnality it intimated in my saucy mind.

  'No, it's just that...' Stephanie sounded apologetic.

  'I understand. Maybe we could meet for a drink a little later...'

  'Good idea!' Stephanie exclaimed. 'We don't really know anybody here, yet. We only arrived ten days ago.'

  'Stephanie,' Frankie implored, her gaze directed to the sunny street.

  'Our room's number seventeen.'

  'I'll call you.'

  'Great.'

  Frankie didn't look too impressed at the prospect as she herded Stephanie out of the glass door.

  I watched them as they strode down the street, Frankie seemingly remonstrating with her friend, perhaps a little uneasy that Stephanie had given her room number to a complete stranger on the strength of his speaking English.