Chapter 6
Story 2 Conchita
Maria Luisa Concha Rebaro de Villa was sitting on a stool next to the old cow in the barn. She wiped the sweat from her face with her skirt and continued to milk. It was hard work and even though the sun had just risen over the mountains it was hot and humid.
Conchita as she was called by her parents and older sister moved the full bucket and replaced it with another and then stood up. She walked over to the barn door and looked out over the mountains and the green forest covering them. She stretched her arms high above her head and twisted her hips a few times. The stool made her back hurt and this was the only way she knew how to make it better. While she was standing there the family’s cat came around the corner. Conchita poured some milk in an old rusted cup she found hanging on the wall and gave it to the animal.
“Are you done?”
Conchita turned around and saw the silhouette of her older sister Maria in the doorway. The light shone through her thin nightgown and showed off a curvy figure. Maria was five years older and worked part-time as a seamstress in Bogotá. During the weekends she would take the bus and ride it for four hours to get back to the farm. Conchita loved her sister, she was so beautiful and she could not imagine why she hadn’t found a man yet. Conchita herself couldn’t wait to get married and start a family of her own. The problem was that there weren’t many options in the small village close to the farm. Esteban was nice, but he wasn’t very bright and Diego was a womanizer and had most likely already slept with all the girls in the village. There were rumors he even went to Bogotá with his brother and spent time with whores. Conchita’s father had once told her that Diego and his family were Narcos and that she should stay away from them.
“Almost, just a little longer. Stay with me.”
Maria sat down on the floor beside her sister and asked her, “have you thought about what I asked you?”
Conchita continued milking and after a while said, “yes, I did. I don’t think I want to come.”
“Why not? It will be fun and maybe you’ll meet someone, and you can practice your English. It’s about time you put all those hours you spent with the missionaries to use”
“I don’t speak English. How am I supposed to meet someone if I can’t talk to them?”
Conchita finished milking and grabbed the two buckets. “What I don’t understand is why these men come to Bogotá to find a wife? Don’t they have women in their towns?”
“Sure they do, but we Latinas make so much better wives. We are sexy and good cooks and exotic,” said Maria and pulled up her dress around her hips and sensually moved them.
Conchita laughed. “You maybe, I feel neither sexy nor exotic and I certainly don’t know how to cook.”
Maria let down her dress and put an arm around her sister. She led her out of the barn. “C’mon, I beg you, come with me. We can stay in aunt Pocha’s apartment. It will be an adventure. If we leave tomorrow morning we can be back by Sunday night. Imagine, a night in Bogotá.”
“OK, I give up, I’ll go with you, but only if you lend me something to wear.”
Maria hugged her. “Sure, you can pick anything you want.”
Inside the main building, they found their mother and father having breakfast. The smell of strong coffee and tortillas made their stomachs growl.
“Mom, dad, Conchita is coming with me tomorrow. I hope that is OK?”
“Maria, why are you dragging your sister into your plans? She is just fine here; she doesn’t need a rich American to marry, do you?” their mother asked.
“Of course not, but I thought it would be fun to see what goes on during those meetings.”
“Maria, tell me again, what this is all about?” said their father.
She put down her fork. “It’s very simple. Ten or so North Americans come to Bogotá for two days to meet women who are interested in marrying Americans. On the first day, there is a general meeting where they present themselves and during the day they get to talk to the women that interest them. At the end of that day, they tell the people running the meeting, which women they want to get to know better during the second day.”
“Why Colombia, what’s wrong with their women?” asked her mother.
“What do I know; maybe they are fat and ugly? All I know is that my friends say it is a lot of fun. One of the girls from the factory where I work met a guy last year and they got married. She lives in San Diego now.”
“Uh-huh, sounds strange to me, but what do I know about such things, I am just a simple farmer,” said her father and stood. “If you ladies excuse me, I got work to do.”
After helping their mother put away the breakfast the two girls went upstairs to the second floor where they shared a bedroom. They used to have one each but since Maria only comes home over the weekends their father had made a reading room for him. He had never gone to school, always worked the earth, but he had taught himself how to read and write. He had quite a library with all the classics in Spanish.
Conchita threw herself on her bed and rolled over so she could watch her sister change from her nightgown to her day dress.
“What have you done?” she asked when her sister stood naked by her wardrobe.
“What?”
“You have no hair.”
Maria giggled and looked down at her shaved cunt. “Oh, I read that men like it this way.”
“You don’t have a man.”
“How do you know? Maybe I have someone in Bogotá, a secret lover.”
“Ha! If you did, why would you want to meet an American?”
“Because I am tired of the macho men around here, and I want a man who treats me nice, who respects me and just doesn’t want me for sex.”
“C’mon, what are you talking about, sex. You have never been with anyone, same as me.”
Maria pulled out a light blue dress and stepped into it. She turned her back to her sister and said. “Zip me up. What if I told you I am no longer a virgin?”
Conchita stopped what she was doing and grabbed her sister’s shoulders and turned her around. She looked into her dark almond-shaped eyes and asked almost in a whisper. “How was it?”
Maria grinned and turned her back again. “It was OK, I guess.”
“Just OK?” Conchita couldn’t believe Maria had lost her virginity, if their father found out there would be hell to pay. He was a strong believer in women waiting for the wedding night.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
“The first time it hurt.”
“First time? How many times have you done it?” Conchita was shocked.
“Well, three times, and with the same man.”
“Thank god for that, at least you are not whoring around Bogotá.”
“C’mon, you sound like dad.” Maria looked for her sandals and found them under her bed. While putting them on she continued, “the second time was better, and the third was very good. There was no pain, and I even tried to kiss his thing.”
“His thing?”
“Yeah, you know, his penis, cock, whatever you want to call it.”
Conchita rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. What was happening to Maria, not only had she lost her virginity to some guy, she had even kissed his penis. That was just nasty.
“Why did you do that?”