Washing Up On Shore
“James, you won!”
“What?” James looked up to be greeted by his coworker Sandy.
“You won,” the office pessimist Peter repeated, treating James as if he was dull. Right as he had finished drawing out the two words, Kyle from Human Resources popped out around the corner.
“Did you hear?”
“That I won?” James replied back.
“Yes!” Kyle was obviously much more excited than James was about this. “You’re going to have so much fun.”
“And the babes,” Peter playfully elbowed James. Peter always wore a frown in the office, but any mention of women instantly brought a smile to his face. He was always too eager to shove his face into any woman’s private areas. James had made the mistake of being a wingman for him once. It was a mistake he’d never make again.
Kyle was still grinning eagerly. “I’ll have all the forms ready for you in an hour if you can stop by my office later.”
“Sure…” James muttered.
“You don’t know what you won, do you?” Sandy questioned. James replied with an innocent nod.
“James!” Peter snarked. “You won the trip to Tijuana!”
“Wait, really?!” James’ voice finally rang with the same amount of enthusiastic energy his peers had. Their company had recently announced plans to open their first branch in Latin America, promising that one lucky worker from each current branch would get the chance to attend the grand opening. Each worker would also spend the week touring different parts of the city and relaxing at the resort. It was basically a paid vacation, and James had won it.
“Didn’t you check your email?” Kyle laughed. “I said I’d send out the results this morning.”
“I guess I was just too focused with these spreadsheets.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Whatever Peter, you’re just jealous that James is gonna get with all the ‘babes’.” Sandy scoffed. Peter’s frown returned, unable to create a good retort.
“The trip’s in a few weeks, so hopefully you didn’t have any plans,” Kyle remarked.
“Not at all,” James smiled. “Guess I should start learning some Spanish.”
— —
“I really should’ve learned some Spanish.”
The airport was filled with the foreign languages. Terminals were marked with it, hallways were designated with it, and destinations were given in it. It was remarkable how out of place and alone James felt trying to navigate his way through the Hispanic maze. To make matters worse, he stuck out like a sore thumb everywhere he went. His average height and unremarkable build usually made him fit into every crowd in the United States, but his blond hair, blue eyes, and pale skin tone lit him up like a disco ball.
James didn’t know when his taxi was supposed to arrive to bring him to the resort. After finally finding the shuttle area, he decided to take a seat and scroll through his phone. First he went through his text messages and then caught up with his social media. Eventually he decided to check on the news back home, not knowing what else to do. Sadly, the state’s political war seemed to be raging.
The race for governor was fiery with the Republican candidate making some tremendously awful remarks. According to him, there were too many Mexican people entering the state. “They are washing up on shore!” one quote read, followed by “Those Latrinos are impregnating our state, our home.” A third comment read: “If we don’t fight now, this country will become the United States of Latin America.” The governor had ended his opinion with “Vote for me and I’ll rid this state of those vile wetbacks!”
Disgusted, James closed the app and sighed. James quickly stood up and started walking forward, thinking it was best to hit the restroom while he waited. After a few steps however, he accidentally collided with another man. James’ phone dropped to the floor right in front of the man’s foot.
“Oh wait-!” James started, but it was too late. The man’s giant foot crushed the phone, the sound of glass crunching was barely heard against the chaos of the airport.
“Perdón,” the man apologized, his voice deep like a foghorn. He carefully removed his foot, revealing what looked more like a metallic pancake than a phone. James cursed his luck that the one person who had stepped on his phone had to be the guy who looked like a professional bodybuilder. The man was a Latin giant.
“It’s… it’s ok.” Not knowing what else to do, James knelt to pick up what was left of his phone. He was too preoccupied collecting the pieces to notice the man now looming over him.
“No,” he grunted. “perdón por esto.”
James felt a sharp pain before passing out.
— —
“Hello?” James yelled, hoping for any kind of response. “Is anyone out there?”
All he had wanted to do was enjoy a week in Mexico. All he had planned to do was attend the grand opening and have a free paid vacation. All he had hoped to do (which he would never tell any of his coworkers, especially Peter) was to have a one night stand with some busty Latina. Instead, all he was going to do was get kidnapped and sit inside some shipping crate.
At least, he assumed he was kidnapped being the situation he was in and the thin ropes tied around his wrist to mark him like cattle for auction. He also assumed he was in a shipping crate due to the small, wooden nature and dampness in the air. It smelled pretty heavily of salt too.
“Si, amigo?” a voice came from outside. It was the same one that came from the burly man he’d met earlier that day… or days ago. James didn’t really know how long it had been.
“Let me go!” James kicked at the crate. He was fairly crunched into the box, his body sitting in an awkward shape in order to sit somewhat comfortably. “I swear, I didn’t do anything to deserve this!”
“That’s true.”
James didn’t know what surprised him more, the answer or the heavily-accented English.
“What?” James replied. “Then why am I in here!” James kicked at the crate again, but it was no use.
“You are carrying important seed,” the voice grunted. “La semilla de México.”
James didn’t say anything at first, too confused with how to respond.
“What do you mean?”
A bright light momentarily blinded James as it appeared through the cracks of the crate. It illuminated the wooden interior, providing enough of a glow for James to see his naked body. He didn’t understand what the man could have been talking about until he made a panicked discovery.
“NO!” he shouted, grabbing his dick in a mixture of desperation and fear. “It’s brown!”
James fiddled with his changed member, not used to its heavy girth. The caramel-colored balls hung low and yet still seemed to ache for more room. He was too busy investigating his larger, thicker, now-uncut dick to realize it was getting hard. A surprise spurt of precum however alerted him to his new sensitivity.
“Ew…” James quickly wiped his hand along the crate. He didn’t notice a flurry of hairs quickly sprout up around his crotch in response. The usual blondish curls were replaced with sleeker, near-black counterparts. “Why did you do this to me?”
“Best way to rid of Gringos,” the man chuckled.
“What do you mean?” James cried. “What’s the goal here?”
“Pronto entenderás.”
“I will?” James replied, unknowingly translating. Suddenly, he felt the crate moving around him, the wood shifting as it was pushed in one direction. James tried to fight it, kicking and yelling and punching the walls with all his might. Nothing was enough however, and eventually the crate was pushed off onto another platform. While the last one was stable, this one was shaky and bumpy.
“Adiós amigo!”
The sound of an engine roaring alongside him scared James. In response, he quickly tucked himself as far as he could on the other side of the crate. It was then that James realized where he was. The engine, the rocking of the crate, the smell of salt: he was trapped in a crate in the ocean. And by the disappearing sound of the engine, he figured he was all alone too.
For a while, James was completely focused on trying to free himself from the wooden prison. Eventually he began contemplating what might happen to him. Luckily the crate was floating, but who knew for how long. He began to worry about what would happen if he didn’t find any food or water. He wondered if his family and friends even knew he was missing, and how they would possibly be able to find him. James wasn’t entirely spiraling into his own hole of existential dread however, there was one little thing keeping him in reality. Well, one little thing that was bigger and browner than it had ever been before
“Does this thing ever go down?”
Although he couldn’t see it in the dark, James could still feel his 8 inch bronzed cock pulsing. It was rock hard, every throb begging for attention. It felt like it was drawing all of James’ blood in an attempt to gain his attention. And it was working.
“Well,” James huffed. “this should clear my head, right?”
With a nervous gulp, James brought his hand to his new Mexican meat and gripped it solidly. The mass was so sturdy it felt like it had its own heartbeat echoing through its veins. In response to his touch, his brown dick rewarded him with an electric jolt of energy, tickling his spine and running all across his bare body.
“Eh!” James lurched as another glob of precum sputtered out, the tan color spreading down his thighs. “Why is it so sensitive?”
Fortunately for James, he came to realize that the hypersensitivity meant he really didn’t have to focus on any woman in particular to get off. Unfortunately for James, he came to realize his new cock meant an endless supply of precum. These new balls had no problem producing–James was starting to believe they had a problem with overproducing. Before he questioned how anyone would solve that problem, he felt another jolt from his cock.
“Oh, that felt buen.”
James didn’t register the language slip-up. He also didn’t register that his legs were elongating inside the crate, pushing up against the wooden confines. The meaty appendages began to ache in response, reminiscent of the same dull feeling James’ legs would feel after a game of fútbol. Their long yet firm nature always gave him the upper hand, letting him fly by opponents before they even had the chance to take the balón de fútbol from him. Just another advantage of being 6’3.
As James continued to squeeze the precum out, he noticed his dick rubbing up against his paquete de seis. Each of the light copper-colored abdominales had been earned from years in the gym and his comida de mamá. Her huevos rancheros were probably responsible for his pillowy pecs and responsive pezones too.
“Please…please…” James moaned as another strike of pleasure coursed through his system, making his generously built arms tingle. His tanned fingers twitched in excitement, their meaty palms softly caressing James’ hard Mexican meat. He didn’t notice the harsh tingle erupt from under his armpits in order to create wiry, black forests, but James did take in their smell. Its pungent flavor was similar to queso cotija, a cheese he always loved growing up. It also reminded him of other flavors from his home: chorizo, enchiladas, chiles en nogada. The sudden remembrance of food made James very hungry, but luckily there was food being created for him in the crate.
“¡Muy delicioso!” James eagerly shoveled his precum into his mouth. The secretion coated his lips and white teeth, some even smeared across his sturdy golden chin and more-pronounced nose. James was just happy he didn’t have una barba: his mamá always wanted her hijos to look clean!
Speaking of clean, James couldn’t help but notice his glossy near-black bangs were lying uncomfortable over his bronzed forehead. With one hand still jerking himself, he brought the precum-covered other through his locks and smeared them back. He then licked his fingers to get a bit more of the salty flavor, like he was licking the rim of his margarita glass at Chili’s. It was salty but spicy. He knew his polla marrón was going to serve up a big spicy load for him to eat. And that meant James' big brown dick and balls must have been muy caliente to serve up such a big spicy load!
“...por…por favor!” James’ body lurched again inside the crate, causing him to notice just how cramped he really was. 191 centimeters of belleza bronceada wasn’t meant to fit into a wooden box! ¡Era muy guapo y caliente! James suddenly found himself beating harder, furiously pumping to the thought of gifting his Mexican cream to anyone or anything. James had had reservations before, but now he just found himself wanting to fill something. Anything. If it had a hole, he wanted to stick his polla marrón in it! He wanted everyone to have la semilla de México!
“¡Ayee!” Diego cried out as a huge load of supercharged sperm shot out of his long, uncut, brown dick and blasted off the top of the crate. With a kick from his Size 11 feet, the just-over-29-centimeters-long coppery perros were able to flip the crate up and over in order to spill Diego’s naked body onto the beach. He didn’t know where he was, but the flag a few hundred meters away told him he was in los Estados Unidos. He also didn’t know what time it was, but the sun rising slowly in the air told him it was mañana. And even though he didn’t know any English, Diego grabbed the used pink speedo he found in the sand and made his way over to the one Gringo sunbathing on the beach early in the morning.
Diego may have not known exactly where he was, exactly what time it was, or exactly what he was doing, but he knew exactly what he wanted. Leaning over the stranger, he asked a question he already knew the other’s answer to.
“¿Sexo?”
