Archive-name: Casual/sprngbrk.txt Archive-author: The Bluesmaster - 2 Archive-title: Spring Break I knew it was going to be a different Spring Break when I saw the 6'3" 250 lb guy climbing onto the balcony of our second-floor room at the Holiday Inn. My two buddies, Jeff and Rollie, and I were heading out for some food, but I figured we might want to check on the action outside. The big guy waved at us and proceeded to look up. I headed over, opened the sliding glass door and asked him what was going on. Big grin. "I'm tryin' to climb to those chicks on the 6th floor." I looked up. There were indeed girls up there. They waved. I waved back, but had no intention of climbing up balconies. "Call me Q," said the big guy. "Rod", I replied. "Good luck." "Thanks." He began to climb again and I went back inside. There was a guy at the door who turned out to be one of Q's friends, wondering what the hell he was up to. They (a total of 5 guys) were in the room just below ours. We made introductions and proceeded to split for our food. Well, we kept running in to each other, and the two groups became party buds in no time, drinking, wenching, and generally being obnoxious together. Port Isabel and South Padre Island lie only about 30-40 miles from Browns- ville and the border crossing to Matamoros, Mexico. The attraction to Mata- moros was cheap booze, souveniers, and a low legal drinking age. I had booze, was 24, and, having lived in South Texas all my life, didn't want any souveniers. But when Wednesday dawned cloudy and cool, I let myself be talked into joining the others for a jaunt across the border. We piled into my pickup and Q's ancient land yacht and headed south. We had a pretty good time wandering about, eating, drinking and shopping. Finally, 5pm rolled around and we decided it might be good to start back to the island, eat, get cleaned up, and go out clubbing. As it happened, we never quite made it. Somewhere within walking distance of the Rio Grande is a bar called Blanca White's (which mean's White's [as in a name -- Mr. White] white, i.e., posses- ing the color white). I was reluctant, but figured what the hell. We walked up to the door and they asked us how many were in our party. About 4 of us yelled "Eight!" An interesting detail about Blanca Whites is that they only allow a certain number of people in at a time, preventing overcrowding. A wise policy, that. While we were waiting, in fact almost immediately after we asked for an eight-person table, two girls walked up. One was blonde and gorgeous, the other brunette and cute, in a schoolteacher sort of way (turns out she was an Education major, but I digress), with blue eyes to die for. "Y'all going in here?" asked Jeff. They smiled and nodded. "What school are you from?" Texas A&M, they said. A&M! Jeff, Rollie and I were from A&M! As one, we three and two of the other guys turned and said "Make that a TEN person table!" It was only a couple of minutes later we were ushered in. I was unprepared for what we ran into. The interior was brightly lit, with lots of pseudo-Spanish decor and assorted bric-a-brac I couldn't place. An old Eagles' tune was playing, not too loudly, but the entire population of the bar was singing along. We got our table. The other guys ordered liter bottles of Corona beer, I ordered a Hurricane, and the girls also ordered beers, though smaller. Soon we were singing along with all of the great old rock and roll tunes that were being played. I added a bit of air guitar, drums, and keyboards just for variety. This went continued off and on for most of the night. The girls naturally got a lot of attention from us. The blonde was named Amy and the brunette Patrice. They were the first two of a larger group that would be arriving tomorrow. One thing was already clear. Andy, a member of the five-man group below my three, had his sights on Amy and was going after her in a big way. Since Amy looked pretty happy with this proposition, that meant Patrice was getting the on-again/off-again attention of seven other guys, myself in- cluded. I wondered how to make myself stand out from the crowd (good marketing is no evil as long as it is truthful) in a more positive, get-to-know-you way than my air-musicianship. In my experience, a lot of girls dislike being followed around like a puppy, or by attempting to monopolize their conversations. So I decided to do my best to spread my attentions around the group, now talking to Q, then Patrice, then Andy, then Jeff, then Patrice again, etc. After about two hours (any thoughts of returning to the hotel having long since been forgotten) and a pretty good pile of drinks for all concerned (I was easily the most sober person present -- not that the others were bombed, just buzzing hard), Patrice began to more and more attention to me. Amy was by now sitting in Andy's lap. The brunette had very pretty blue eyes, and a slender, almost boyish, athletic body. She had a great sense of humor (or at least we laughed at each other's jokes), and thought my air guitar was "cool". The fact that I was a grad student and at least two years older than all present seemed to be a source of amazement to her. Maybe the idea of an "older" man excited her, I dunno. I do know I liked Patrice, as well as a couple of hours can give you the chance to know anybody enough to like them. Another hour saw us slow-dancing around the table. Andy and Amy had their noses touching. The other fellows were very drunk and obviously having one hell of a time. I kissed Patrice for the first time that night. She responded with a passion, stopping our slow movements in order to better press herself against me. Her tongue insinuated itself between my lips, and I sucked on it. She shivered at that, and I noticed I was getting a hard-on. We held that kiss for quite a long while. Finally, we broke it with mutual gasps. It was pretty certain neither one of us had expected that much intensity, and her expression showed it. I know mine did. She glanced around the crowded bar. We hadn't attracted all that much attention in the hubbub, but she looked up at me with those incredible blue eyes and said, "Maybe we should get out of here." "Sounds good," I replied. "I suppose we could take my truck back to Padre. It'll fit all four of us." I nodded at Andy and Amy. "We're not staying on the island. Our rooms are at the Border Hotel." "Where?" I had no idea what she was talking about. "The Border Hotel. It's right over the bridge. We can walk to it from here." Well, now that sounded good. It was probably best that I didn't drive, either. I nodded. "That's great. Let's get out of here." We gathered up our other two lovebirds and bailed out of _Blanca Whites_. The other guys had a hard time keeping straight faces as we explained what we were doing. I'm amazed they did. Fortunately, Q's car was big enough to carry everyone that was left at the bar back to Padre. As we staggered out, past the long line of folks waiting to get in, I glanced at my watch. It said 10:30. We'd been in _Blanca's_ almost 5 hours! And the night had only begun. We made it to the hotel without incident. I'm not sure how. We could hardly keep our hands off each other, and every hesitation suddenly seemed an excuse to lip-lock. It was as if the long build-up in the bar was suddenly boiling over for both of us. Once in the room, we didn't bother with preliminaries, we just fell onto the double bed and proceeded to try to inhale one another. I didn't notice that Amy and Andrew had gone into a different room until quite a while later. Our hands roamed frantically. I rolled under her, spoon fashion, and cupped both her small breasts from below. She placed her hands on top of mine and pressed down even harder, while she spread her feet for balance and tried to grind her ass into my cock. I craned upwards and sucked at the back of her neck. She pulled my hands down to press into the vee of her legs, gasping suddenly when I pulled upwards on the jeans-clad crotch with considerable strength. Patrice rolled herself over so we faced each other, with her on top of me. She continued to thrust her pelvis at me as we kissed again. I reached down and began to pull up her shirt. She raised her arms to allow it to slide off. It hung for a moment, but we were determined, and finally it came free. She tossed it away, and I tried to remove her bra. But the angle wasn't good, and I was too far gone to concentrate. She pulled my hands away and removed it herself, flinging it away and exposing her small tits. They were well-shaped, however, with diamond-hard nipples that stood out really far. As she brought her arms back down for balance, I pulled her right tit to my mouth and began sucking hard, even biting it (though not quite as hard). She gasped and her head fell forward, covering my face in her sweet-smelling brown hair. "Bite'em," she said with a shudder. "Harder!" Then: "Oh yes!" as I com- plied. We continued grinding our loins together as I switched from breast to breast. The rubbery feel of the hard nipples contrasted sharply with the firm softness of the rest of her small mounds. Her skin felt hot and smooth. Still sucking, I moved my hands down her torso to the buttons of her blue jeans. I popped them open and reached inside, feeling the heat and moisture of her arousal on my fingers. I stroked her clit roughly, then pressed a fin- ger inside her wet seam and she moaned. Pulling her tit from my mouth, she lay full upon me and reached down to remove her jeans and panties. I helped her as best I could. It was quite a struggle, as they were very tight. We gasped for breath and I felt the first beads of perspiration break out on my skin. Patrice jacknifed above me finished the process of removing her bottom coverings. Her body gleamed silver in the dim lighting coming through the gaps in the drapes. She was long, and lean, with well-defined muscles and no obvious tan lines - she had done no sunbathing yet. She straddled her knees on either side of me and began pulling my shirt off. We removed it and my own jeans and underwear in short order, complicated slightly by the presence of my erection. But we managed, and completely naked, we fell in beside one another and again began kissing frantically, thrusting our bodies against one another, striving to gain as much tactile stimulation as possible. Patrice trapped my left leg between hers and began humping on it. I could feel the slickness of her cunt as she rubbed her clit against me, and the hardness of her nipples poking into my chest. "God," she moaned. "I'm so hot! Feel how wet I am." I pulled her up over me and began sucking at her nipples again, while taking a finger and pressing it up into the wetness of her pussy, curling it up in hopes of finding her g-spot. She was very wet. She groaned and began thrusting against my finger supporting herself with her arms on either side of me. I used my free hand to fondle her ass, which was very tight and firm. Abruptly she pulled her breasts away from my face. "I want you in my mouth," she said. Patrice kissed me vigorously, and moved down my torso, licking and sucking at bits of my flesh as she moved down to my cock. She took it in hand and went down on me in a rush. I tensed up at the wonderful sensation her hot, wet sucking provided me. She moved up and down, varying her speed and pressure, making it hard for me to hold out. It was all I could do to stroke her cute face and run my hands through her rich brown hair as she did me. She went up on her knees and began to rub her clit with other hand. Our gasping breaths and the occasional squeak of the bed were the only sounds in the room. I began to pump myself between her sucking lips and realized that I couldn't hold out much longer, so I pulled her off my erection, not without some regret, and laid her down to return the favor. She spread her legs and reached down to continue stroking herself as I moved into the juncture of her thighs. She smelled musky, but it was not unpleasant, and her mound was only sparsely covered with hair. I gave her one finger, then two, and thrust them in and out of her pussy in short, fast slides. She humped back at them, giving forth little snippets of pleasure-sounds as the perspiration began to break out anew on her body. "Oh, yeah! Give me your tongue, oh please, your tongue..." I adjusted my position and added my tongue to the mix, flicking her clit rapidly. Her hips twitched at the new sensation. Removing my fingers, I took her clit into my mouth and sucked hard. She mewled in pleasure, her smooth, strong thighs pressing on either side of my face as I sucked. She continued to shiver as my tongue began to move up and down the entire length of her slit, delving in and out of her slick opening, tasting her juices, which had an interesting, pleasant tanginess, but were otherwise hard for me to describe. Patrice was making small moans and gasps with increasing frequency as her orgasm approached. Occasionally I could feel the contractions of her cunt walls as she did so. I began sucking harder, licking faster, and was rewarded with a sudden cry of "Unhhh! Yes, that's it I'm gonna come! I'm coming! Oh do it, do it, do ittttttttt!" Her hips bucked, and the flow of her fluids became a bit more copious. She suddenly pulled herself away from my mouth, pushed me away, and rolled over onto her knees. With her head and shoulders down on the bed, she spread her legs and reached under herself with one arm, sinking a finger deeply into herself. "Oh, my pussy," she sighed. "My pussy needs it. Fuck me, fuck me *hard*." I shoved downwards on her back, forcing her flat onto the bed, and, spreading her legs as wide as I could, thrust my stiff dick up into her heat, sliding fully inside on the first attempt. She exhaled explosively as I sank home. I lay full on top of her, holding still so she could adjust, and so I wouldn't come too quickly, letting her feel my weight. Patrice squirmed under me, trying to run her clit on the sheets and move my cock around inside her. Sliding my hands under her (supported by my elbows) I cupped her tits and pinched her nipples lightly. She moaned again and cried out "Quit teasing and fuck me, dammit! FUCK ME!" "Okay," I replied. "Get ready." And I pulled out and thrust back in, hard. And again, and again until I was moving at a good clip, shoving her down into the mattress with each powerful movement. But she was into it too, thrusting back up at me, raising her hips up off the bed until they were at a normal height, with her upper body still pressed into the mattress, where she gripped the bedcovers tightly in her hands and sometimes teeth. We went at it with raw, animal abandon, slapping together hard and fast, sweat increasing the slickness of our bodies as we grunted and strained. I reached under and began stroking her clit. "Yessssss!" she exhaled as I rolled the sensitive flesh between two fingers. Pulling herself up, she turned back and kissed me. I brought my fingers up, slick with her own lubrication, and slipped it into her mouth. She sucked at my fingers hungrily, eager for another taste of herself. My dick was getting incredible sensations from the slick heat of her pussy, sending shivers of pleasure shooting up my spine and making me even harder, were that possible. I already felt harder than granite and twice as large as I should be. Patrice began to roll her hips, getting my cock to touch every inner surface, the gyrations sending even more thrills through my system. She spread her legs wide and arched her back in a deep curve, allowing me to plunge even deeper into her hold. "Oh God, yes, deep, really deep," she moaned as I reached further into her channel. It was getting harder for me to hold back. "I'm going to come again," she cried out. "Come baby, come with me, come in me, let me feel it..." It was too much. I let go of my last shreds of control. "I'm coming with you, babe, come hard!" And suddenly I felt her orgasm, the spasms in her pussy as the sensations took hold of her, and then I was coming too, blasting forth an torrent of hot sperm as the pleasure exploded in my cock and brain so intense as to almost make me black out, and hearing Patrice's scream, "I'm coming, I can feel you coming, oh so hot, so hot, oh God..." as we collapsed on the bed, still writhing and coming... We lay there for awhile, the sweat slowly cooling on our bodies, our breathing returning to normal, her head pillowed on my chest. I stroked her long brown hair while she traced idle patterns on my chest. "Mmmm, that was nice," she said. "I though it was a bit better than *nice*," I replied, slightly wounded. She laughed. "Silly, it was *very* good. In fact it was great. But we've got all the rest of the week. By Friday, this may have been just *nice*." She looked at me suggestively and my dick twitched at the thought. "Hell," I said, "Since you put it that way, it may be just *nice* before morning!" The End --