This report will be quite brief; I haven't the gift of gab that distinguishes the more prolific writers in these archives.

Recently, I had the opportunity to venture South by moto. Accompanying me was a long-time riding partner whom I'll refer to as "The Eskimo", who is a TJ newbie, but not a virgin, having accompanied me on my last moto excursion south of the border. We had taken a couple of days to travel from Alta California to the border in search of warmer climes and entertainment for my friend, who'd spent the past months in a much colder locale. We made our first insertion on a Tuesday night; the clanking of the turnstiles was music to my ears. A short ride later, we were on Revolucion, where the Eskimo asked to start our recon. He has an unreasoning affinity for Isis and Unicornio. Factoring this into our mission planning, we decided that a "mission complete" status could only be acheived if one or both of us were offered the storied BBBBJ (yup, Bare Back Booth BJ) in one of these fine establishments. The Eskimo led the way down the chute into the depths of Unicornio. Dodging the barker, we ducked into the head first, then reentered the bar, letting our eyes adjust so as not to trip over anything. As usual, there were was an assortment of creatures who displayed distinct bovine qualities... or is that porcine? Anyway, they were animals - attacking us on sight, rubbing assorted mammaries and other body parts against us as we were the sole patrons present. I tolerated this treatment briefly, but soon found an urge to seek new pastures (or something like that!). The Eskimo was firmly esconced in a booth, receiving a booth dance from one of the Unicornian denizens. I was able to to tell him that I would return, and headed up the stairs and around the corner to Isis.

Isis was not much better - using the same avoidance technique as before to confound the barker, I reentered the club from the men's room and made my way to the bar. I was the ONLY patron present, which made me the target of repeated assaults by various mujeres intent upon separating me from some part of my personal fortune. After downing my first true Mexican refreshment (a cold beer - what were you thinking, sire?) I decided that the Eskimo's status needed to be checked, so I returned to the Unicornio.

The Eskimo was unharmed, but was growing bored with his present company. We headed up Revolucion in the direction of the Zona, making a recon check of each potential entertainment location as we went. Each spot we checked was less lively than the last! Finally, we neared the left turn that would take us into the heart of the Zona, and Adelita's. Before we did, however, the Eskimo just had to obtain some local rations in the form of tacos from a small establishment near the Chicago Club. I had not eaten there before, preferring one of the stands near Adelita's, but tried the fare to maintain unit morale. Not bad!

Having taking on fuel, we were now ready to penetrate the dark recesses of Adelita's. Parting the red curtains, we eased our way in and took convenient seats at the bar. This enabled us to make clear observations of the local activities. The first activiy to come to our attention was the dancer who happened to be up. Had I known more Spanish, or the PA turned down below the distortion point, I might have even had her name to append to this report. Unfortuneately, neither was the case and she shall have to go nameless. The Eskimo needed little prompting to move in for a closer examination. The crowd was pretty sparse, this being 9 PM on Tuesday night, so the Eskimo had no trouble in presenting a monetary offering and receiving some firm facial breast strokes for his trouble. He came back with the evidence of a warming trend around his cheekbones - it must have been hot in there!

We split up to cover the territory more efficently, and therefore I cannot document his further actions at this time. I proceeded to make a circuit, noting potential targets. As I passed through HC on my way back to the main bar, I was accosted by Angela the shark (Angela la tiburona?) who said, "Oh, you're back!" I haven't seen her in over a year, making as I do annual trips to our neighbor south of the border. Nonetheless, she did appear to remember me, or perhaps her counter intelligence training was better than mine... I disengaged by telling her that I needed to keep an eye on "mi hermano".

A short time later, the Eskimo emerged from the crowd, saying that this sort of insertion was not his particular brand of entertainment. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd been in the Arctic too long, but complied, walking back with him towards Revolucion. Knowing that he wanted to go back to that below ground den at the south end of the street (all right, he wanted to go back to Unicornio!), I set a time to rendezvous there and we split up.

I returned to Adelita's, obtained refreshment at the bar, and made a visual sweep. On my first sweep, I noted a pair of chicas who did not look like thay belonged in Adelita's at all. One was blonde, one was brunette. Both had absolutely astounding bodies and lovely faces. Neither was dressed in anything approaching chica styles. The blonde, in particular, had delicate features on a head which appeared slightly too small for her magnigficent physique. By later observations, however, I determined that they were indeed both working chicas. To my everlasting embarrassment, I failed to approach them and at least find out their names for this report. I also noted, with some amusement, a chica at the small bar on the other side of the dance floor. She had two bottles of beer and was drinking from both at the same time. Gyrating wildly to the thumping music, she would turn away from the bar towards the dance floor. Every so often her generous breasts would free themselves from confinement. Each time, she would continue to bounce for a period of time before reluctantly setting her brew down and tucking the errant pechos back into hiding. I was so distracted by this impromptu display that I was blindsided by La Tiburona, who made a strong opening play by patting me thoroughtly for weapons. Finding what she wanted, she maneuvered me into a seat and inquired whether I would like to invistigate the higher reaches of the location. After a brief negotiation, we proceeded.

At the desk, I asked for an extra towel. Angela's eyes flashed as she displayed a double load of cleanup equipment. I complimented her on her ability to read my mind as we prodeeded up the hall. All the time we had been laughing and joking like two old friends. We truned into the room and Angela joked, "Should we leave the door opened?" I replied, "And the shades up, too!", which provoked loud laughter. Angela began preparing by taking her blond wig off. Having seen this before, I was prepared for it and it was not a problem. She suggested that I might want to strip, which hint I had no trouble following. She briefly used the bathroom and came out to join me on the bed. Angela reached for the condom which had been provided, but I showed her one I had brought with me. Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Chocolate?" I knew I'd forgotten something... I meant to obtain some flavored protection, instead of just unlubricated. I admitted my neglect, but she took it in stride, using the condom I offered instead of the issue unit.

Her oral technique is good; in no time she had me in a state of readiness and paused to ask, "Are you ready, or do you hwant more blowyob?" I opted for the latter and she continued. When I indicated that continuing could bring about an early termination, she told me that she had a new position, and would I like to see it? Of course, I agreed, and she proceeded to assume a modified cowgirl position and did her best to rip my only weapon from my possession. I was forced to call for a rearrangement after only a brief position, and chose missionary, then doggie to fire the weapon. Angela was in no hurry to leave, and even though we had overstayed the agreed on half hour, there was no knock. All through the session, we were laughing and joking, her practicing her English and teaching me new words in Spanish (body parts, for the most part - and not the ones you'd think!). I was surprised that the session approached GFE quality. Not quite, but very good, all the same. I went back down to the bar feeling that the first mission objective has been accomplished. Now for the second!

I made rendezvous with the Eskimo in Unicornio. He was still evaluating the talent available, or at least their willingness to pursue the contents of his wallet. I saw nothing interesting, and went up to the Isis, knowing that he would look for me there, and that I could get a reasonably quiet drink while I waited. There were a trio of dancers taking turns on the stage, but none were above a 5 (charitably).

At last the Eskimo arrived, with a chica in tow. I gathered that she had told the Eskimo that it was time for her to migrate from Unicornio to the Isis, and he simply followed along with her. We ritired to a back table, where another chica insinuated herself around me and began a rather intensely personal massage. I bought her a drink, more to not look cheap than anything else. this induced her to intensify her activities, putting my hand inside her panties and encouraging me to perform a similar search. Of course, I checked any convenient cavities to ensure the safety of our mission. The sacrifices I make...

After twenty minutes or so, my companion said that she had to go over to Unicornio. She brought over a blonde, about 5'4, dark skinned, whose name, if I remember correctly, was Margaret. She took up where her predecessor left off. After another ten minutes, her offers began to take on a directness that her predecessor's had lacked, culminating with an offer of BBBJ for twenty dollars. I exclaimed (quietly), "Aqui?? Es no permiso, correcte?" She replied, "No, it's OK." By this time, the Eskimo had gotten about all the milage that his selection had to offer, short of a trip upstairs, something he was plainly reluctant to do. As he got up to go, I made my excuses to Margaret, pointing out that I had to go with "mi broder".

We left that location by taxi, satisfied that our mission was fulfilled in all counts. The next day, we (and our hangovers) were on our way further South, to pillage yet another village, but that's another story...

Mr Danger,

That is an absolutely great report and demonstration of the CRUSING AS A MISSION metaphor. As a team on a mission together I'm sure you and the Eskimo were committed to "leave no one behind."

Regards,
RickFeliz

Rick,

Thanks - having read some of your reports, that's truly a compliment! We were indeed committed to that high standard; after all, we had the general dignity and honor of CH to protect...

Regards,
El Peligroso