Mud on the Water


It was my first time in country. Though it was hotter than I like, the scenery was amazing. Everything was so green and the loud calls and songs of so many flamingos as they flittered and soared through the air was unforgettable. But what I liked the most was the mud. There was mud everywhere. And the all-pervasive crud seemed to want to suck me down with every step I took. And this was on the trail, don't even get me started about off-trail.

I had been in Buenos Aires for almost eight weeks now. When my firm opened a satellite office in B.A. I was the first to volunteer. You see, I have a friend down in the city known as the "Paris of South America." And I had never seen her before. My friend, we'll just call her Florita, had been trying to get me out of the city ever since I arrived. But you know how it is. Work can be such a drag sometimes. There were meetings, and then there were more meeting. Then there were the meetings to talk about the meetings we would be having. Ha! Sounds crazy, doesn't it. Yeah, I know. It is crazy.

Finally, however, I had some time off, and since it wasn't a weekend, the crowds were still in the city, so we had this stretch of paradise pretty much to ourselves. And I was loving it.

As we followed that trail along the Parana River, I quickly found myself in a lot of mud in some kind of swamp. It was beautiful country even if it was hot, still I got thinking about that mud, and how good it would look all over Florita.

"Oh shit," I said as I stepped into a rather large hole and went down, up to my knees, in the brown muck. "Fuck!"

I heard a snorting sound behind me, then downright laughter as Florita caught up to me. Florita is beautiful. My newfound friend is of average height and though her boobs are not overly large they are the perfect compliment to the most impeccable ass I have ever seen on any woman. If "10" is perfect, then her ass would be an 11. And Florita's bewitching smile could ruin a man's willpower to stay celibate in a second.

I loved looking at that wondrous smile of Florita's, only now it was laughing, and I was getting a little pissed off.

"I warned you, Bobby. Watch your step!"

"Yeah, easier said than done," I retorted. "Give me a hand, will ya."

But just as Florita reached for my mud-encrusted right hand, I grabbed hold with both hands, and in she went.

"Arrgghh," a startled cry escaped Florita's lips just before her head sank into two feet of grimy muck.


Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Oh, you . . . you . . ."

"What's the matter, Florita, didn't you watch your step."

As my friend came up out of that mire, she was a complete mess. Brown, almost black mud streamed down off her head, face, shoulders . . . hell everywhere.

Oh, and if you thought I could cuss up a storm, you haven't seen anything until you've witnessed a hot-blooded Latino woman vent her ire at you.

As I watched Florita, covered in all that slimy sludge, and using a plethora of dirty epitaphs, I thought back to our first correspondence on the internet.

"Hi," I had said after looking at a photo Florita had posted on the UMD, or Ultimate Messy Directory, "you look great in mud!"

And her reply sent my heart soaring to the heavens themselves. "Thanks, I love rolling in the mud."

But now, despite all of the thick squelchy black mud that was flowing down off Florita's face, the look in her eyes was anything but angelic.

"Ooooh, oh you just . . . just . . . wait until . . . you just wait until I . . . aarrrrghhh."

SPLASH!

My friend, and newfound love, had taken one step too many to the left and stepped off the bony little ledge we had been following for the last hour and a half. And with that one misstep, she quickly found herself in the mud again.

This time, that hole must have been four or five feet deep as when she came up, most of Florita's body was still submerged in that black slime.

As she dragged herself up out of that mire, no help from me, thank you, ha, I saw the smoldering embers that had become Florita's eyes, and I quicky braced for her upcoming verbal barrage that I knew was coming.

"You son of a bitch, you're enjoying this . . . AREN'T YOU!"

"Yep." I grinned back at the woman who in such a short period of time had managed to win my heart. "I sure am."

"Ohhhhh . . . you, you, I am . . ."

"Yes dear," I replied in a calm, reasonable voice.

"OOOOHH . . . I just hate . . ."

"Yes dear."

And then, all that angst and anger dissipated. In one heartbeat, the look went from demonic to angelic on that beautiful but mud-covered face which I cherished so much.

"I hate it when you are so damn reasonable, you . . . you . . . loveable fool." Then reaching out to me, Florita said, "give me a hand, will ya?"

Normally, I would not have fallen for such an obvious ploy, and would probably have made some snide comment like, "do I really look that stupid?" But on this occasion, not having any desire to win a battle but perhaps lose the war, I grasped Florita's hand. And as I surmised, she quickly yanked me into that black mire.

Stumbling around, and completely covered with the same muck that encased the love of my life, I took one long look at Florita, and then broke out laughing. An instant later, my Latina lover started laughing, too.

Now, as I looked at the walking sexpot who was completely covered with mud, it was hard to believe that a short time ago when we met at the edge of the jungle, Florita was immaculately attired with that sexy red latex swimsuit, that I found so alluring, and a pair of skintight blue jeans. For this mud larking escapade, she had forgone her normally stylish black heels for a more sedate pair of sneakers. To round off the ensemble, Florita had an authentic Charlie 1 Horse Mexican Shore straw hat with a Thunderbird crown, a Chocolate ribbon band and a 3 3/4 inch brim. The light tannish-colored , known as 'natural,' headgear was a perfect match for her DiMiTY Sandshell sneakers. I was wearing a simple pair of khakis and a light blue, button down shirt, sleeves rolled up, of course, for the heat. Now we were both drenched in the most disgusting slimy goo imaginable. And we were laughing our asses off.

"Oh, baby," I said as I tried to stand up in that muck, while reaching for Florita's hand, "you know I just have to get you back for that."

But I said it with a smile, to lessen the sting of the words. Then I grabbed the back of Florita's long hair and pushed her face into the mud. And there were no half-measures, either. I dunked her head all the way under. As Florita came up for air, she was swearing like a sailor. And I was laughing my ass off.

"Oh you . . . you . . . just wait until I get out of, argghh . . ."

There was a very loud splash, actually more of a sploosh, as Florita, once again, lost her balance and fell backward into that mucky trough of mud. And once more, she disappeared beneath the surface of that almost black mire.

When my Latin firebrand got up this time, it was as if she were made of mud. Black muck just seemed to ooze out of every single pore on her body. And as I looked at Florita, I could feel my loins stir and a thickening sensation come from down there, if you know what I mean. Ha!

Now, as I stood there in almost three feet of mud myself, I spied something so incongruous as to be almost impossible. There was Florita's hat, knocked off her head as she fell in the mud. But that hat was in pristine condition, not a drop of muck on it. Not for long, however, I said to myself.

"Hey Florita," I said, as I ever so gently picked up her stylish hat. "You lost something."

Florita's look of relief, however, quickly turned to one of trepidation, then one of sorrow, before turning to regret and anger as she saw me walk back to that really big pool of black mud and dunk the hat all the way under that mess.

When I came back, I was holding that now-ruined hat in both hands. The inverted crown was full of mud, which quickly found its way onto Florita's scalp as I righted the hat in one move and then plopped it down onto her head.

SPLOOSH, dark brown mucky mire sprayed out from under the hat and inundated her face and chest. Some even found its way onto my face since I was standing so close to Florita.

A big wide grin split my face as I saw that priceless look on Florita's face.

Ah oh. Here it comes again!

"You son of a . . . you fucking BASTARD! How could you . . . oh . . you just wait . . .just wait . . . until I can . . . Arrrggghhh"

SPLASH!

Once again, my distracted lover had stepped in the wrong direction, and she had tumbled into that black mud. This time, however, when Florita came up from under all that muck, I saw a different look on her face.

Uh oh, she really looks pissed. Maybe I went a little too far . . . oh shit!

Instinctively, I started to back up, only to stop suddenly. There were mudholes all around us.

Suddenly a strange look, one of almost calm forbearance, came across Florita's face, and then she caught me completely off guard as my Latin lover lowered her shoulder and charged straight into me.

I fell backwards as it felt like a Dallas Cowboys linebacker had hit me. Driving with all the power she could muster; Florita wrapped her arms around my midsection and swept me completely off my feet. My butt hit hard ground at first, as she drove me into that rocky ledge. As I skidded across that muddy wedge of rock, however, I soon found myself falling backwards into a dismal abyss.

Splaaash!

With the force of her driving weight, we tumbled backwards into that mucky mire and went completely under as Florita held on so tightly.

I came up sputtering and gagging on the stinky muck that I ingested as I went down. I was incredibly muddy, and so was she. But Florita didn't care. All reason was gone from her formerly gentle eyes. All she wanted to do was inflict retribution. And she did!

"Oh Shit. Fuck Me." I didn't realize I had actually said those words aloud, until an almost quizzical look came over Florita's muck-covered face.

"No sweetheart . . . Fuck Me!"

My startled expression must have given away my inner feelings. As I laid there with this huge bulge in my ruined pants, Florita slowly but ever so gently reached over and opened the fly to my trousers. Freed of it's painful imprisonment, my cock just sort of popped out.

"Oh my," she said with a deliciously wicked look playing across her muddy face.

"What have we here?" Florita, now straddling me, said through mud-caked lips.

"You know perfectly well, what that is, Florita?" I said as my left hand gently caressed her muddy cheek. While my tongue darted through my lover's muddy lips, my right hand slowly pulled down the strap on the left side of her bathing suit, thus freeing a very muddy puppy. And I knew what to do with muddy puppies! Ha!

Now as Florita grasped my shaft with both hands, and started stroking it, my hands started roaming over her upper body. While still kissing Florita, my other hand pulled down the strap on her right side, and I slowly slid down the bathing suit so that both breasts were exposed.

My lips left Florita's and started a downward migration, first to her chin, then her lovely throat, so coated with mud, and finally down to her chest to lightly rest on Florita's enlarged right breast. Silently I looked into her eyes, so filled with anticipation. I smiled and looked at the muddy breast I was holding. She smiled back and nodded. So, I started sucking on Florita's tit. Gently at first, as I licked away that black muck, all the while thinking, this can't be healthy for me. I kept up the mucky message of her wonderful boob. As I stroked Florita's mud-covered nipple with my crud-coated lips, she kept up the pressure on my penis, with her gentle hands. Every time they reached the bottom of my shaft, Florita cupped my balls and gave them just a slight tickle. It drove me up the wall.

Wow! Oh Wow . . . that is so . . . awesome.


Using my lips, tongue and now the muck-coated bristles of my mustache I managed to clean the area around the tip of the rock-hard nipple on Florita's right boob. And every time that mud-soaked Tom Selleck stroked her nipple, I felt an involuntary shudder run through Florita's body.

Oh wow! That feels so good . . . keep it up, Bobby. Keep it up, please!

Now, I opened my mouth as wide as possible so I could get in as much of Florita's mucky boob as feasible. Up and down, side to side, I suckled on her female sense of identity. Oh, and have I ever said how much I love boobs. With each suckle of her breasts, and I would do each one, right one first, then left boob, and back to the right, Florita arched her back in pleasure. And each time she did that, Florita grasped my dick just a little harder. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to get my attention, if you know what I mean.

Finally, I had cleaned both breasts of all that built up muck. Now I started working my lips down Florita's stomach and then to her pleasure zone.

But now she stopped me. Pulling back slightly, Florita turned her mud-soaked face so she could look in my eyes.

Oh shit. Have I done something wrong? Have I offended her?

She gave me a quick smile, sort of mischievous, and then before I could say anything, Florita quickly bent over and took my entire cock in her mouth and started sucking on it.