Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 2

On the deck of an old fishing boat, a girl tilted her head slightly.

She had healthy, tanned skin and black hair that reached her shoulders, making her look innocent.

She looked about high school age. Her round black eyes and refined features created a strange atmosphere, blending childlike innocence with adult sophistication. The white girls I saw in America and the girls from Central America looked different, so it was hard to tell their real age.

The girl wore a white dress that fluttered in the wind as she watched me curiously.

And that was because — Colombia.

I was trying to hitchhike on a fishing boat.

It had been five days since I left San José in Costa Rica. By hitchhiking, I’d made my way to Coron, a town in Panama.

If you look at the map, you’ll see it’s a town on the Caribbean Sea side, about halfway across Panama.

I have set the deadline for this trip to be the end of September, when summer vacation ends.

But after aiming for South America through a mix of accident and impulse, hitchhiking proved more difficult than expected. Each day saw me wasting money on unnecessary lodging and meals.

Summer vacation is limited.

While flying straight from the airport to Europe remained an option, I wanted to make the most of this journey by reaching Colombia in South America. That way, at least I’d visit both North and South America during this trip.

Still, hitchhiking by car carried kidnapping risks, so I planned to hitch a ride on a nearby civilian ship to reach Columbia in one go.

The result? A girl’s face that asked, “What is this person talking about?”

This is the kind of thing you’d expect from an innocent-looking girl. Most people would probably just say, “Get lost!”

I tried to escape the situation by leaving, but…

“Espera!” (Wait!)

The girl stopped me with her gesture, leaving me no choice but to remain.

She walked across the deck to what appeared to be the steering area and spoke in Spanish to someone.

After a while,

“Ugh.”

A middle-aged man with a scruffy beard emerged.

He was probably a local in his mid-forties, dressed in shorts and a shirt like you’d expect in a tropical climate. But his bushy chest hair and black beard that made him look like a Middle Easterner doubled his intimidating presence.

Was the girl from before his daughter? He seemed respectable, but he looked far from cheerful, and he was watching me with a guarded attitude.

Or glaring.

I’m going to be killed, I thought instinctively.

If it were a Japanese fishing village, that would be one thing, but this was a well-known Central American fishing village.

Considering how I was treated in Costa Rica, I should have realized how reckless it was to hitchhike on a boat, but the strong Central American sunlight, tired from the long journey, robbed me of my ability to think.

“Papi—”

Through gestures and expressions, the girl seemed to be persuading her father.

Just like Carol, I realized. Every country has its angelic girls.

Though their eye color, skin tone, and language differed, the girl before me appeared just as angelic as Carol.

But logically speaking, my chances of getting on this boat were less than one in ten thousand.

The father’s stern expression throughout proved it. With the girl’s persuasion failing, I’d likely be forced back into my land-based hitchhiking life.

“Aborda.” (Boards in)

The father pointed to the back of the boat with his thumb up. This gesture was common around the world, and unless I was completely wrong, I could only take it as a sign to get on.

“Really…?”

Ignoring my stunned state, the fishing boat pulls up to a nearby pier.

When I cautiously board, the bearded father greets me with an incongruous smile.

“Wha—?”

A sharp blow to the back of my head follows, and I lose consciousness instantly.

I’m utterly speechless at my carelessness.

◆◆◆

I could hear the boat’s engine.

The deafening noise mingles with water sounds, the deck shaking violently beneath me.

When I come to, I’m on the ship’s deck. Above me shines a starry sky that couldn’t exist in Japan.

If that were all, it would be the perfect cruise. But as expected, I find myself tied to the deck.

My legs are free, but my upper body is bound in rough rope, rendering movement impossible.

It seems I’ve been kidnapped and imprisoned again. The slight bulge in my pocket suggests my cash has already been stolen.

(I’ve been stripped bare… huh?)

In this case, I’m grateful just to have clothes on. The decision must have been made because my jeans and T-shirt, worn ragged from the long journey, were deemed worthless.

(The fact that I hadn’t been killed yet…)

They’ll probably abandon me somewhere with nothing but the clothes on my back.

Listening to the ship’s engine, I make surprisingly calm judgments.

I can’t run to the local police and prove his crimes later.

So they’ll release me alive into the wilderness to avoid the risk of getting caught.

Well, whether I can survive being dumped in a foreign country with no money and no language skills remains to be seen.

I’m speaking from prejudice alone, but I imagine this is probably the common view around here. If there’s an opportunity to rob wealthy foreign travelers, it’s only natural to take their money. That’s just common sense for improving their lives.

The fault lies with me for coming to such a place unguarded. Every time I travel abroad and encounter unfamiliar cultures, I find myself thinking this way naturally.

Of course, whether that makes this situation acceptable is another matter entirely.

(What should I do now…?)

The steering cabin is lit up. Given that the ship is moving, it’s natural to assume the bearded man is at the helm.

Considering the size of the ship, it’s unlikely there are other crew members. If there were, they’d probably be—

“Callado” (Quet)

The black-haired girl with tanned skin made a hushing gesture as she crouched down in front of me.

She must be trying to free me, I thought.

Whatever her father’s nature, she’s undoubtedly a good person—an angel. She’s probably trying to secretly untie my ropes, retrieve the stolen money if possible, and help me escape.

What a brave girl she is, I thought.

This living witness here swept away all my previous prejudices in one fell swoop.

She wrapped her slender arms around my bound hands, desperately trying to untie the ropes.

But…

“Murmur… murmur…”

Her delicate arms couldn’t loosen the ropes as she wished. She strained to reach the knots, but the tightly bound cords remained stubbornly intact.

And then,

(Ugh…)

Every time she bent over and struggled, her open chest revealed a voluptuous cleavage that was hard to believe was that of a young girl.

True to its Central American origins.

Though her face held no trace of adolescence, her figure was dynamite-grade. Every time she shifted, her curves rippled with a softness that spoke volumes.

And then, to my utter shame…

“De verdad…?” (Really…?)

My erection strained against my pants, pushing insistently against her belly. The sudden prominence must have made the situation painfully obvious.

Despite her childlike appearance, she clearly understood the implications. In the dim light of the steering cabin, her face flushed crimson.

I’m truly sorry.

To entertain such vulgar thoughts toward the kind soul who tried to save me…

But her body was simply too alluring.

She was Carol by name, but her figure is a whole lot more dynamite.

This was made even more pronounced by her vulnerable outfit, the one-piece dress.

She’s what they call a loli with big br3asts.

The contrast between her childlike face and her incredible figure made unfamiliar emotions sprout in me.

“P-perdón…” (Pardon)

I apologized to her in my newly learned Spanish.

But once my c0ck reacted, it lost all sense of restraint, desperate for release.

The girl who had been flinching and looking away seemed to summon her inherent kindness – or perhaps realized she couldn’t escape this way.

And…

“Ah…”

With clumsy movements, she began rubbing my crotch through my pants.

Her hands weren’t practiced at this.

But she probably wasn’t a virgin.

The exquisite awkwardness only aroused my sexual desire.

Having rubbed me from base to tip with clumsy hands, the girl hesitated repeatedly before finally unzipping my jeans.

“Mui… Grande…” (So.. Big…)

She exposed my hardened erection beneath the ship’s open sky.

Though deeply conflicted, the girl resumed stroking my shaft directly.

The innocent girl’s clumsy handjob sent pleasure signals through my brain. Then she buried her face in my tied-up lower body,

“Ahhh”

and took my erection into her innocent mouth.

The girl’s warm, slippery mouth took a quarter of my p3nis into its socket.

Judging the size impossible to swallow whole, she switched tactics—now stimulating my glans and frenulum with her tongue.

The wet sucking sounds of her fellatio were drowned out by the engine noise and waves.

Yet the unexpectedly intense pleasure of her blowjob steadily stimulated the male inside me.

And then—

“Aah!”

I came in her mouth.

Having not even masturbated in days due to travel fatigue, I released more than I expected.

She managed to take it all with her cute mouth.

Still, swallowing proved difficult. With tear-filled eyes, she half-ran to the cabin’s edge, hunching over to avoid her father’s notice, and spat out my semen like morning sickness.

It was only natural, but as a man, the sight still wounded me.

But still, I was the one who had forced cum in her mouth, so I had no right to complain.

Perhaps sensing my expression, she staggered back toward me, her movements unsteady.

“Huh?”

She spat out the remaining white fluid in her mouth onto her palm,

then swallowed another shot glass worth of semen right in front of me, as if to say she didn’t dislike it.

The scene was so suggestive I could almost hear the sound of her swallowing.

The remnants of white fluid clinging to her lips, her flushed face, her “I’ve done it” expression—all combined with the night sea view to create something almost divine.

Ignoring my stunned state, she straddled me again.

I thought it would be better to go around to my back if she wanted to untie the rope, but with her frenzied state, I couldn’t say anything.

Seeing her like that, I was aroused again,

“Ah!”

And I ended up erecting my exposed p3nis, pointing it towards the inside of her skirt.

Must’ve hit exactly where I aimed, because she moaned seductively into my ear.

The tip of my c0ck brushed against something undeniably panty-like, yet strangely damp.

Though barely able to move, I subtly adjusted my angle with my lower body.

“Ahh!!”

(…Ah, it’s in.)

I successfully inserted my stiff p3nis into her v4g1na.

Her moist vaginal walls enveloped the surface of my shaft.

There seemed to be no hymen, but whether due to lack of experience or not, it still felt tight.

Though I acknowledged she was just a teenager, I realized this situation was getting dangerous. I desperately tried to regain my composure with deep breaths, but—

“Huh?”

The girl, with a melted look on her face, started to move her hips on her own.

Her healthy waist beneath the dress moved in a provocative rhythm, shamelessly devouring my c0ck.

Just moments ago, she’d been an innocent girl.

She was completely absorbed in it, and started riding me in a full-fledged cowgirl position.

The girl’s slim waist twitched as she repeatedly went up and down like a rodeo.

(Seriously…)

Eventually, the girl took off her dress, exposing her voluptuous body beneath the stars.

She frantically moved her arms around and removed her black bra, revealing her voluptuous, brown-skinned br3asts.

They were bigger than Carol’s.

Her n1pples and areolas were healthy, but what truly captivated me were those teenage br3asts – firm and springy, swaying like living creatures with each thrust of her hips.

Her ass was also extremely attractive.

Her healthy, large ass, just as you’d expect from Central America, shook violently with each movement of our s3x.

Her waist was slender, yet her chest and hips were ample – the very image of a Central or South American beauty being defiled.

“Mmmngh…”

The girl pressed her br3asts against my face.

The overwhelming softness crushed against me, nearly suffocating me in pure bliss.

Nevertheless, I complied with her request and took her mature n1pple into my mouth like a baby suckling.

“Hmmm!”

When I gently bit down, her body shuddered violently.

I couldn’t tell whether we were swaying from the ship’s motion or our lovemaking.

Our bodies moved in unison with the waves and the rhythm of our coupling, fully savoring our oneness with the vessel.

Though I was bound, why was I having s3x with a Central American beauty?

And not just once, but twice in a row, like in Costa Rica.

The girl screamed something in Spanish. The volume was nearly audible in the steering room, but she seemed not to care at all.

“Aah! I’m cumming!”

As I munched on the girl’s voluptuous br3asts, I came spectacularly inside her.

A second load of semen, more than I could have imagined, was poured into her uterus. At the same time, I could see that the girl had also climaxed, as her upper body arched.

The limp girl whispered something in my ear.

For what felt like an hour, we continued having s3x on the boat.

In the end, I was able to untie the rope and was released the next morning at a port near Colombia, as originally planned.

I was sure that I would be penniless, but my cash and passport were still in my bag.

The girl had probably put them back secretly so her father wouldn’t find them.

When her father eventually noticed, he’d probably be shocked, but by then I’d already crossed the border into Colombia.

I worried about the girl’s safety if she got caught, but since they seemed like father and daughter, I probably didn’t need to worry too much.

I could even imagine the girl lecturing her father after making sure I escaped safely.

In the end, I never did figure out the meaning behind that s3x, but armed with the satisfaction of my first ejaculation in ages and the relief of resuming my journey, I stepped onto the soil of South America for the first time in my life.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Days 29-30: San Jose City to Columbia Border

Distance Traveled: 750 km (Total for Central and South America: 753 km)

Means of Travel: Hitchhiking, Boat

Cash on Hand: $8,382

Expenses: 4 nights’ lodging – $323

5 days’ food – $153

Hitchhiking scam – $200

Remaining Balance: $7,706

Total Encounters (Central and South America): 2

Diana Socías (29)

Mia Armenta (17)