Loving Eyes

Mira smiled at her lover and took him by the arm, leading him to the jukebox. Understanding his role, he fished in his pocket and handed her money. She pressed buttons and made her selections, and a slow, romantic tango came up. Smiling, she led Jim out onto the floor.

The only couples confident enough to dance were one Mexican businessman partnered with his slender, silver-haired wife; another with a tall, busty, striking bottle blonde who was obviously his mistress; and Jim and Mira. The frat rats and their girls scattered like leaves in the wind to clear the dance floor for the three couples.

Given the room to show off, the Mexicans took advantage of it. The blonde and her paramour executed deep dips and an exquisite caveman drag that had the Chicalo girls taking notes. The businessman and his wife, being older, danced a more restrained tango, but with him controlling her short dips and twirls that ended with her rubbing suggestively against him in a way that made it plain to those watching she was his lover and proud of it. By comparison, Jim and Almira appeared unschooled, with few fancy moves to call upon; but Jim was determined to look good for the sake of his lover, and determination can make up for a great deal. He deep-dipped Mira, spun her dramatically out off his fingers, and was waiting for her with another dip when she came spinning back in fast enough to flare her skirt up to mid-thigh. They stalked the floor corps-a-corps, Mira using the move to briefly grab the lead and turn them to head down the center of the parquet in counterpoint to the two couples coming up the outside edges. Keeping the lead without appearing to, she guided him through two short moving dips, the same move used by the married couple, and gave the lead back just in time for him to turn her at the full dip at the far end of the floor, almost under the feet of his fellow Tri-Sigs, before they started up the floor again.

The music ended with heartfelt applause from the audience, and the dancers bowed and curtseyed to each other. A ballad started, and the intrepid couples were joined by the rest. Mira looked at her partner, his face flushed with pleasure at having danced the tango successfully.

"We did not disgrace ourselves, mi clavo precioso," she said softly as they swayed to the music. "I think you have given your hermanos de fraternidad and their queridas something to think about."

"Any credit is entirely due to your skills, mi amor. At most, I did not embarrass us. You took me by surprise when you spun out off my fingers and then back in with the speed of a tornado, and again when you did the short dips before we did the slow walking turn. I almost lost my place in the steps."

"But you didn't, and no one watching us could have told from your face or body language that you were dealing with the unexpected. You underrate your ability to dance, my Jim. And I will prove it to you.

"Ximena dances a good tango. I programmed a block of five songs: tango, ballad, tango, ballad, ballad. Ask her to dance the next one with you. I think you will be pleasantly surprised at how well you really dance."

The music ended with Jim and Mira standing near Hayes and Ximena. She took the lead, turning to Hayes, saying simply, "Dance with me, Señor Hayes?" before taking his hand and leading him to the top corner of the dance floor. Jim looked at Ximena, extending his hand; wordlessly, she smiled and took a step to take it, somehow turning that single step into a slink worthy of an exotic dancer.

The song Mira had selected was one that she had used to train her lover, which gave him a measure of confidence because he would not need to count his steps. Mena pressed so close that her spectacular bust flattened against his chest as they moved down the floor and they seemed joined at the hip. He signaled for a dip; she obediently leaned backward almost to the floor, giving him a marvelous view of her cleavage. He recovered her with a walking turn while enjoying the view, and they moved back up the floor.

"Spin me," she whispered.

Jim gave her the signal, and Ximena spun out to the limit, barely maintaining contact with his fingertips. She came twirling back in to press against him, her hand daringly trapped between them, cupping the erection concealed by his trousers and smiling appreciatively at what she felt. She did not say a word as they resumed moving, but the quick squeeze she gave his manhood left no doubt of her intention.

"Ah, Don Diego," she whispered as he signaled for a corte before the turn, "it is certain that I must travel to New York and see about placing my wares into the boutiques there. It is past time for Chicalo fashions to take their place in the wardrobes of bravos in the City That Never Sleeps."

"My cousin Fiona might be able to advise you which of the fashionable stores to approach, Ximena. Since she went to college she has taken up shopping as a hobby, or so her credit card bills lead me to believe."

"You and your prima hermana are close?" He spun her out and back again.

"We share my house. Perhaps the three of us could discuss how best to market your fashions over dinner there when you are ready to visit?" He laid her down in a deep dip as the music ended. Pulling her back to her feet, she embraced him for a moment to whisper in his ear, "I would like that, Don Diego – and more." Squeezing his hand, she led him back to the table. Hayes reclaimed his girl for the next dance, and Jim sat to find a snifter waiting for him, Almira's eyes sparkling with merriment as she looked at him over the rim of her glass. She finished her drink, took his hand and said, "Come, let us retire, mi espárrago. There is another dance I would like to do, one whose steps you already know, one best performed in the bedroom: el baile del hueso." Jim smiled and walked out of the cantina with her, leaving dance behind for other pleasures.

In the penthouse, he went to the bar and poured two nightcaps of pepper mescal, carrying them into the bedroom where he found his lover waiting for him dressed in perfume and nothing else. He joined her in the bed and they clinked glasses, drinking off a swallow of the liquor before setting them down on the nightstands. Mira snuggled into Jim's chest, her hand loosely gripping his penis as he caressed her skin.

"Did I not tell you that you dance better than you think? You acquitted yourself admirably with Ximena in the tango. But tell me, what did she talk to you about as you danced?"

"During the fox-trot, it was essentially an exchange of flowery compliments going both ways. I was flattered; apart from you, my sweet, no woman has ever been complimentary towards me."

"And during the tango?"

"We discussed Ximena possibly placing the Chicalo fashions she sells in her shop into boutiques in New York City. She is thinking about taking a trip north to see if she can make an arrangement with some fashionable independent store that caters to gentlemen."

"Was that all you discussed?" she asked with a knowing look.

"Well, mi amor, she did hint that she was interested in getting to know me better. Much better, if you take my meaning. It's the first time a girl has ever been so forward with me – in public, anyway."

Once again, Mira thought of the lacunae in her lover's social education, though he was surely learning quickly.

"What you are learning from me and the other women of Chicalo is going to stand you in good stead when you return home, my darling. You'll want to think back on some of the girls you have dealt with up north in light of the knowledge of women you've gained here. But right now, I want you to think about us, and only about us." Her hand tightened on his rigid prick and her tongue invaded his mouth, hot and demanding, the cantina but a memory.

Mira and Jim breakfasted on the penthouse's terrace the next morning following a shared shower in which Jim had carefully soaped up his lover, rinsed her clean, and kissed his way down her body to find her kitty eagerly waiting for his tongue and fingers. He had brought her off not once, but twice before she reluctantly shut off the water and pulled him to his feet. From where they were, they could see the front entry of the Azul without being seen themselves and watched the drama playing out below them.

Marco the Wonder Mechanic had his pickup on the semicircular drive opposite the front door. He and Emiliano were discussing something as a bellboy loaded a suitcase, a cooler, and two covered baskets into the back, one with freshly cooked meat tortillas prepared by the Azul's kitchen and a bowl of tropical fruit, and the other with cookies baked just that morning by Raquella's grandparents, traveling rations for the trip back to Manzanillo.

The four Tri-Sigs and their girls were embracing on the cobblestones before the front steps. None seemed to want to let go of their lovers. The expressions ranged from Raquella's resigned sadness, to the eyes shining with unshed tears of Ximena and Idola, to the tears streaking Hayes's cheeks, to Dayanara's unashamed silent weeping. Their hands roamed over their lovers' bodies, and the intimate caresses told anyone watching everything they needed to know about the relationships between the young men and women bidding each other farewell. At last the departure could be delayed no longer and they reluctantly separated, the boys going to board the pickup, two in the bed and two in the cab; and the girls instinctively huddling together for solace. Marco got behind the wheel and the truck moved out into the street, the lovers waving to each other. The girls watched the little pickup turn the corner down the block, and then it was gone. All of the girls had wet cheeks now, and with lowered heads and slumping shoulders they went their separate ways to work, to open a shop, or home to bed as circumstances dictated.

"Goodbyes are never easy," said Almira as she turned them away from the parapet and into the cool of the penthouse, "but they are a part of living and loving. Nothing lasts forever, querido, not even the sun and the stars. All we can do is enjoy the warmth and the brightness for as long as it lasts."

Jim gathered her into his arms and kissed her, slowly, long, and lovingly. She twined herself around him, loosing the sash on her silk robe so it hung free and allowed his hands free access to her body, sighing against his mouth as his hands stroked her and she felt her pussy begin to swell in response to her caresses. Her hands untied his robe and pushed it off his shoulders as he released one arm at a time to shrug it off without stopping the increasingly intimate touching of his eager, willing lover. She pulled him close, feeling his ready cock rub against her shaved slit, its orchid lips already wet in anticipation of his masculine invasion of her body.

He set her down on the edge of a couch and knelt between her legs, leaning in to kiss her pussy. His tongue set to work, and it was a matter of seconds before her clitoris peeped out of its hood and began to rise as he laved it. She moaned as his mouth worked its magic on her, and she gasped as his fingers invaded her coochie, the wetness within coating them as she spread her legs wider.

"Si, mi amor," she whispered. "Si. You treat me so well! You excite me so much! Ohh, what you do to me! Please don't stop. I surrender myself to you. Use me, mi espárrago. Pleasure us both and make me spend! I am ready to explode, mi corazón! Usar mi coño, mi dulce amante! Use me well, my stud!"

Her hips bucked against his face as he licked and sucked her. Her sweetness excited him, his fingers twisting in and out of her, his mouth, tongue and teeth working relentlessly as she twisted beneath him, seeking her sweet release as the female oils leaking from her betrayed her readiness. Jim opened his mouth to envelop her clit and clitoral shaft, quickly sucking and then blowing on them.

"AIEEEAAAAH!"

Mira came powerfully, the flaring and fading flush of her chest and mound announcing her climax beyond any doubt as she arched her back and jammed her wanton cunt into his mouth. As she fell onto the cushions he sat down and leaned back on the couch next to her. He pulled her on top of him, her back to his front. Without being told, she straddled her lover and sank down on his waiting cock, taking his rock-hard ramrod into her sopping pussy up to the root. She sighed at the sensation and eagerly began to rise and fall on him.

They quickly established their rhythm, thrusting up, sinking down, withdrawing from each other only to drive deeply into each other, sexual pleasure from each contact exploding like skyrockets in their heads as they fucked. She braced on the couch; he reached around, finding the clit standing free of its hood and taking it between his fingers, stroking it like masturbating a tiny penis.

"AIEEE! AIEEE! Si! Si! Si! Mierda, mi semental! Joda mi su coño empapado! Pasar en mí, amada mía!"

Her concha tightened and spasmed around his shaft as she sank down and took him all the way into her, writhing on the man-flesh filling her up and triggering an explosion of his own that painted her questing cunt with his sperm, their juices mingling as she fell back against him and his hands rose to caress her breasts.

"Oh, my darling," she breathed, turning her head and finding his mouth, "what pleasure you give me! My insides are melting of them. If those foolish girls of the town who compared you to an ape knew what they could have had, they would die of the embarrassment. The girls at your college have no idea of the ecstasy that awaits them on your return. But now, mi dulce amor, we must prepare ourselves to face the day."

As if on cue, the phone began to ring. Mira reluctantly disengaged from her lover and walked to the phone, picking it up.

"Hola?" She listened for a few moments before motioning Jim to her, handing the phone to him.

"Good morning, my friend," said Captain Emiliano in Spanish. "I regret the intrusion on what I am sure is a most pleasant morning, but the tide is nearly at low slack water. I could truly use your assistance running in the new cooling water intake line."

"Very well, Captain. I will meet you at the Ojo Grande in half an hour or so." He hung up the phone and turned to his lover. She smiled her understanding and led him to the baño for a second shower.

Captain Emiliano was in the process of muscling the pipe when Jim arrived. Without being told, he waded into the water and set to work guiding the awkwardly bent water line through the hull fitting into position. He held the bolts in place as the captain locked the nuts down to secure it, shoving a plug into the end to keep the water out until it was tied into the pump. They dug up the anchors on the beach and Julio rowed the bow anchor out and dropped it, Jim diving to confirm it was digging into the bottom before Emiliano used the winch to begin pulling as he and Julio shoveled sand out from under the hull to refloat the cruiser. As the tide rose, she floated off and they used two lines to pull her alongside the dock and get her under the crane. While the two Mexicans set about lowering the new equipment into the engine compartment and tying it into the engine, Jim used the rowboat to recover the anchor. By siesta time, the new separator and cooling water pump were hooked in and ready for testing. Jim left them to it and returned to the hotel where Almira waited with lotion and warm towels for a slow, loving massage that eased his muscles and sent him off to sleep.

After siesta, he rejoined Emiliano and Julio, the three of them ferrying the gear that had been removed from the cruiser back aboard. The sun was lowering toward the Pacific before the captain dismissed him.

"The thing to do now is test the engine and the new pump, mi amigo. If everything works alongside the dock, Julio and I will take her out for a short run out and back to see how the new pump behaves under load. If all goes well, we will depart for Manzanillo after breakfast tomorrow morning." Emiliano could tell that Jim had schooled his features to immobility out of deference to the macho culture, but did not miss the tightening around his eyes that meant he knew the idyll with his beautiful mestiza would shortly come to a close.

As they had the night before, Almira and Jim dressed in party clothes for dinner. They ate a feast of the chef's best dishes, and after coffee once more went to the cantina to dance. There were four new faces from the Mexican television industry the Chicalans recognized courtesy of the Grumman amphibian that had landed just before sunset, but compared to the party atmosphere the Tri-Sigs had brought to the place the bar felt positively sedate. Raquella commented on it as she brought Almira and Jim their usual.

"Your hermanos may have been loud now and then and a little lewd sometimes, Don Diego, but I will say they certainly livened things up here at the Azul." A wistful expression crossed her face as she remembered the pleasure she had had of one Tri-Sig in particular. "They were great fun to have around."

Almira signed to Manuel and mimed cuing up the jukebox, but the telenovela actors and actresses at the other table did not rise to the bait. She shrugged and led Jim onto the floor anyway, and they danced a romantic fox-trot followed by a slow tango and another fox-trot before Almira conceded defeat, the two of them quietly walking out to the stairs that led to the penthouse.

Mira directed Jim to make himself a drink, saying, "Do not come in until I call you." He poured the pepper mescal that had become his usual nightcap, not forgetting to splash a little on the terrace, and sipped from the balloon goblet, looking out over the water at the moon's reflection in the ripples.

"Jim, mi cariño?"

He drained the mescal and set the goblet on the bar as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. The lights were low, but not so low he could not see his waiting lover standing beside the bed.

Almira had chosen to dress herself not in black silk or a tight-laced corset as he'd half-expected, but in a pleated dark blue miniskirt, white schoolgirl blouse tied up under her tits, and black flats. Instead of hanging loose or being caught up in a ponytail, her shining blue-black hair was braided into two pigtails. The effect was Slutty Schoolgirl, a stark contrast to the elegant cocktail dress and nylons carelessly tossed on the chair by the vanity. Well aware of the effect she was having, Mira slowly strutted to him, hands on her swinging hips.

"Do you like me this way?" she whispered. "I'm a teasing tart who needs to be taught what happens when she flaunts herself before a man. Are you man enough to master such a slut, Jim?" She stopped just out of reach and shimmied her shoulders, bouncing her unfettered boobs temptingly.

Jim took one step forward and swept her into his arms, crushing her against him as he kissed her hard, driving his tongue into her mouth to take possession of her. She moaned as their hands roamed over each other, hers grabbing his buttocks and pulling him tight against her groin, rubbing her pudenda lewdly over the rampant cock that threatened to burst from his pants. Giving up his attempt to untie the knotted tails of her blouse, Jim grabbed the two edges crossed on her chest and yanked. Fabric tore and exposed her firm chichis with their taunting nipples. He pulled the remnants of her shirt off and bent to her breasts. Mira gasped as he latched onto her engorged nips, sucking and pulling them, her hands going to his head to encourage him.