2,497 words
The 60 horsepower motor in the 1937 Ford quit near the service station at Abrego, New Mexico. The engine had lost power over the last 200 miles and was smoking badly before it finally quit altogether.
With the service station owner’s permission, I left the Ford under a tree at the station and I hitchhiked back to Colorado and consulted with my brother-in-law, the mechanic. I bought the necessary parts for the motor overhaul and hitchhiked back to Abrego.
As I walked into the service station, the owner said, “Nothin’s been touched, as far as I can see. You got back pretty quick. What’s your plan?”
“Well, what I would like to do, with your permission, is tear the motor down right where the car sits. That is, unless you can work on it.”
“Nope. I’m still booked solid. You go ahead. How much experience do you have?” he asked.
I explained about the summer I helped my brother-in-law overhaul a Chevy pickup.
“You let me know if you have any questions as you get into it,” he said. Then, he turned and went into the garage.
It took me three days to complete the job. The service station owner answered my questions as they came up.
Just as I was cleaning the tools and putting them back in the back seat, a fancy, black coupe pulled up to one of the gas pumps. An elegant looking woman got out. The service station man walked quickly out of the garage and greeted her formally.
She looked my direction. I was so dirty I shrank back behind the open door and leaned into the back seat. I did not want anyone to see me, especially not a woman that beautiful and elegant. She walked over to where the man was putting gas in her car and they talked briefly as he finished filling the car’s gas tank, checked the oil and washed the windows.
She got in the coupe and drove away.
The service station man came over. “How you doin’?” he asked.
“All done, I guess. I hope it will get me home. I followed my brother-in-law’s list of instructions and your advice as best I could.”
“Could not have been easy for you,” he said in a friendly and knowing way. “I wouldn’t have wanted my first overhaul job to be in this dirt and heat. Come on in. I have a cold soda pop for you.”
With that he turned on his heel and strode into the small area that served as his office, store, and customer waiting room.
“What’s your choice? I got coke, orange, or R. C. soda.”
“I’ll take the Royal Crown soda, please.”
He handed me the soda and leaned against the counter. “You sure look like you could use a bath and a good, solid meal.”
“You’re right there. I smell terrible, even to myself. I don’t know when I have ever been so dirty.”
“The Lady wants you to come up to her place. It’s near the church. Up there on the hill and to the left of the churchyard. She’ll let you take a hot bath; then, she’ll give you one of the best meals you have ever had.” He smiled.
“Why would she do that?” I was puzzled. I couldn’t see her expression when she looked at me, but I imaged that it could only have been disdain, if she saw the dirt and grease.
“She’s an artist. Maybe she wants to paint you before and after you clean up. I can’t say. All I know is what she told me: ‘Tell him to drive up to my house. Maybe with some of Maria’s lye soap he can get clean. Maria will fix supper for him.’ That’s what she said, so I’m telling you.”
“Who’s Maria?” Now I was really confused.
“Maria’s her Mexican cook and housekeeper. She’s a dandy cook. Might even scrub some of the grease out of your overalls.”
“Gee, that’s great. What’s The Lady’s name?”
“That’s not for me to say. She wants you to know that, she’ll tell you. She keeps to herself. Hides from the pests that come out here – some of them all the way from back east – looking for her and her art works.”
“Well, okay. I certainly need a bath and I am hungry. I guess waiting to take off for a couple of hours won’t make any difference.”
“Take off? Tonight? You got to be kidding. It will take you all night to drive from here to Colorado, especially over the passes, especially at night, especially as tired as you must be what with sleeping out here in the car for two nights. Likely you’ll land in a ditch, if you try anything that foolish.”
He glanced at his watch. “You better head on up that way. Neither The Lady nor Maria are particularly patient.”
Maria greeted me at the gate. She ushered me through a courtyard and into a large, open kitchen area and on into a bathroom. A large washtub full of steaming water was waiting. She showed me a large towel and a huge bar of yellowish looking soap. She gestured toward the water. Then, without having spoken one word, she pointed to a heavy robe, and shut the door on her way out.
I undressed and stepped into the water. It was hot, but not too hot. I settled back and let the steaming water cleanse my pores. One sniff of the soap told me that I was in for a rough cleansing. I rubbed some of the soap on my hands, elbows, and knees. The grime “melted” away.
Just as I was about to get out of the tub, Maria came back in. She pointed to a large robe that was hanging next to the tub and said something I did not understand. Then, she grabbed my clothes and quickly left the bathroom.
Maria had no more than left the room before a second door opened, one that I had not paid any attention to. The Lady walked in. She was tall, dark, and – I thought – one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She walked over. I hunkered down in the tub.
“Shy, are we?” she had a deep, pleasing voice. “I hope you are not a virgin. Well, maybe I hope you are a virgin. Which is it?”
I was too astonished to answer. I sputtered and tried to sink even lower in the soapy water. The tub was much too small for that.
“No matter. We’ll get along just fine. With that, she began to rub my back. Then, she bent over and kissed me. I really liked that kiss. I kissed back as good as I could while still hunkered in the tub.
All at once, she stood me up. My manhood was throbbing by then. She pulled on me so I was forced to step out of the tub and onto a large Indian-style rug. We continued to kiss and to caress each other for several minutes. She moaned softly as I stroked her back and buttocks.
She cast off her dress; no bra and no panties. She pulled me down onto the Indian rug. Almost at once, she pulled me on top of her and guided my throbbing manhood into her. I had hardly entered her when she let out a loud moan and rotated her hips wildly. I reached climax at about the same time.
She relaxed completely and moaned softly, continuing to stroke my back and buttocks. Then, she pushed me off and grabbed a washcloth. She cleaned herself quickly and handed the cloth to me.
“Come to my bedroom once you have had your dinner. Maria will show you the way. After that, we will get very well acquainted. My! What a blush. I like men who blush. It shows an underlying passion. See you in a little while. Don’t be too long.”
As she said that, she walked out and closed the door.
I cleaned my soft manhood, dried as best I could and put the robe on just as Maria came back in the room. She beckoned. I followed her into the kitchen where she sat me down at a rustic table and began serving me the piping hot Mexican food. The food was hot in two ways: Just out of the oven and spicy beyond what I was used to. I ate it anyway. Drinking the two bottles of Mexican beer Maria set before me helped get the spicy food down.
While Maria was busy at the stove, I snuck a full look at her. She was short, dark and more than a little heavy. She had long, dark hair that was carefully braided. The two braids hung past her waistline. She was dressed in a simple dress that looked similar to some that were pictured in the books we read in the Spanish class I took in high school.
The food was good. I cleaned up every morsel that she put before me. She grunted, I assumed in approval at my appetite and at my obvious appreciation.
When I was done, she pointed to a door and muttered something in Spanish. I got up and walked through the door. Standing down a dimly lit hallway was The Lady. She beckoned. I walked toward her. As I approached, she stood back and I walked into a large bedroom.
She was in a robe much like the one I had on. As I stood looking around the room and wondering what to do, she came up behind me, clasped her arms around me, and breathed heavily on my neck and ears.
She pushed me toward the massive bed. I rubbed her hands. She sighed.
I turned and took her in my arms. She kissed me on the forehead, cheeks, and chin. Then, we kissed long and deeply. Again. And again. And again. Her tongue danced in and out of my mouth. I tried to put my tongue in her mouth but met only clinched teeth. “Later,” she said and pushed me onto the bed. As she did that, she slipped her robe off and opened mine.
She got on top of me and we kissed fully and deeply. This time, she let me put my tongue in her mouth.
I wanted to enter her. “Not yet,” she whispered. “It’s too soon. If I am going to teach you how to make love to a woman, you must be patient. First, you must make sure that the woman, whomever she is, is fully ready.”
She moved beside me and took my hands. She showed me where to place them and what to do with them. At the same time, she was massaging my body. She flipped me over so I was on top of her. As she did so, she slipped my hard manhood into her moist, throbbing woman’s place. And, she pulled my lips down to her breasts.
I sighed deeply and was pushing in and out, faster and faster. She moaned and began to buck like an untamed bronco. I went off with a great sigh. She kept bucking and moaning for a few more seconds before she let out a faint scream and relaxed completely.
After a few minutes of complete relaxation, she got up and went into a small bathroom. She came out with a warm washcloth and a towel. “Wash yourself thoroughly,” she said, as she stood naked by the bed.
I did as she said. She took the washcloth and disappeared back into the bathroom. I dried myself with the towel. When she came out, she was wearing a sexy, flimsy, see-through nightgown. She climbed into bed. I climbed in beside her. She snuggled up to me. She stroked my body, concentrating on my stomach and upper legs.
I took her lead and stroked her. We talked some. Mostly she talked about how to make love to a woman so that the woman, as well as me, derived full satisfaction. Several times, I asked her name; she demurred.
I don’t know, now, how many times we made love that night. It probably was not as many times as I now think it was. It was my first time for full sex with a woman. Before that, I had ‘petted’ with several girlfriends and with a couple of them we had ‘simulated’ sex, but with our clothing on. One vital lesson I learned that night is what an important role the tongue plays in sexual arousal and fulfillment.
There is no doubt that I went from boyhood to manhood that night.
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in the bed. Her side of the bed was cold, suggesting that she had been up for some time. I got up and went into the bathroom. Upon returning to the bedroom, I noticed my clothes on a chair by the door. They were clean and neatly folded. I put them on, went into the hallway, and walked into the kitchen.
Maria was there. She was busy at the stove. She gestured toward the table. Only one place was set. I sat down and waited. Soon, Maria was putting eggs, bacon, and pancakes on my plate. She poured me a cup of coffee.
“Maria,” I said, “I don’t drink coffee. Thank you anyway.”
Maria smiled. She took the coffee cup away. She poured the coffee out in the sink and set the cup down. She got another cup and went to the stove. Beaming, she set a cup of hot tea before me. “Café no good. Te numero uno,” she said.
“Where is The Lady?” I asked.
“No sabe,” Maria replied. “Lady gone. She trabajo – work. Drive away early. Into montanas. You leave. Go back to Colorado.”
“Go? After last night? You don’t understand, Maria. I must see her again. Talk with her. Tell her how much last night meant to me.”
“Not need. She know all that. You finish eat. Then, go! Otherwise, she be very angry you.”
And, so I did what Maria told me to do. I finished breakfast, thanked Maria, got into my car, and left.
The Ford barely made it back to Fort Collins before the motor expired for a second time. My brother-in-law had made a guess about the size of the crankshaft inserts. They weren’t right size and, thus, wore out quickly. I never drove that Ford again. I bought a newer Ford with an 85-horse power motor. Much later, I sold the other car to a friend who put an 85 in it and it had a creditable career as a stock racer.
It was many years before I learned who The Lady may have been. Why did she share love making with me? I never took the trouble to find out. One thing is certain: It was a great first lesson in sex.