Loving Eyes

"We had Economics together last semester, and now we are in the same History of the Civil War class. Nora asks me to get together with her to go over the lessons at least twice a week, and I've helped her with class papers, things like that. We meet in the Commons or a quiet corner of the library, and there's a coffee shop just off the campus that has conversation pits she likes."

"And how do you sit when the two of you are in one of those pits, eh?"

"The couches are small, but we can squeeze into one with a table for our coffees and computer bags. I work off paper copies of her stuff, and she leans over my shoulder so she can follow what I'm doing as I mark them up. Sometimes she sort of plays with my hair as I'm reading. And lately we have been working up a proposal for a future Junkyard Challenge – designing and building homemade aircraft and then flying them through a series of tests."

Mira reflected that Nora must have the patience of a saint and more than a casual interest in Jim, and that his mentor Warwick needed to have a long talk with him about the signals a woman on the hunt sends to a male she wants. Most girls would have given him up as a lost cause long before.

"James, mi amor, you know that our interlude here cannot last forever. I am proud to have been your first, and you have proved yourself an excellent lover. You've shown both here and back home that you can please and pleasure women – they are not the same thing, you know. This is the last I will say about it for the moment, as right now you are in my arms and my bed and are my lover.

"But when you are back at college, I want you to seek out Nora. Suggest to her that you would like to talk about your proposal for homemade airplanes in more detail of a Friday night, and would she be willing to meet you at her sorority house to discuss it? I would be surprised if she did not say yes; and I would be very surprised if she did not hold this discussion in her room behind a locked door with that corset on under her dress, stiletto heels on her feet, and alluring perfume.

"For your part, I would suggest adding to your computer bag condoms, a flask of mescal or brandy, silver cups, silk rope if you can find it, and a lady's razor. If Nora reacts the way I suspect she will when she has you in private, she will want you to mark her as yours. Shaving her magic mountain is explicit without being obvious. It would do as a symbol for you to be going on with.

"That is something for you to consider. But for now, consider me, my darling stallion. I can tell you are again ready for lovemaking, and I am eager to receive your sperm en mi concha. Kiss me, my stud, and take me!"

She locked her mouth to his, her lips and tongue hot and demanding; and the subjects of Nora and the inevitable end of their love affair did not come up again.

When they awakened from the nap that followed their second session of afternoon delight, Mira observed, "Things are well in hand in the hotel, and it is a warm day. Change into your swimsuit, mi amor, and let's go for a swim!"

They weren't the only ones with the idea. When they got to the patio overlooking the beach, all of the Tri-Sigs and their girls were either sunning themselves on the sand or splashing in the water. Jim had the chance to look at all the girls in as next to nothing as he was ever likely to see them. Swimwear varied from the barely-there bikini worn by Dayanara, to the less daring but no less becoming bikini worn by Iola, to the sprayed-on spandex one-pieces of Ximena and Raquella that concealed their bodies while at the same time revealing everything they had to offer. However, had anyone asked him who was the best-looking woman on the beach, Almira would have won hands down. She was no more than six or seven years older than the youngest girl, but those years had refined her face and figure into something perfectly in balance and very, very fine that left the others far behind.

Mira led them past the beached Ojo Grande out onto the dock, hung her towel on a piling, shot Jim a coquettish look, said, "Race you to the float!" and with no further ceremony dove into the water. Jim dropped his towel, backed up a few steps, ran and took off in a start that launched him through the air like a torpedo and saw him enter the water not far behind his lover. It did not take him long to catch up to her, and he beat her to the anchored float with its one and three meter diving boards by a full length. He climbed the ladder and extended a hand to help Mira up, claiming a long, deep kiss as his prize.

"I may have lost the race, mi espárrago, but I still win with that kiss," she said happily as they stood locked in each other's arms, hands lightly stroking each other's bodies. She reluctantly left his embrace and walked to the one-meter board, executing a lovely swan dive.

The two of them amused themselves with the diving boards and fancy dives for awhile, then settled down on the smooth decking of the float to let the sun dry them as they lay there, fingers intertwined, simply enjoying an intimacy that didn't need words to reinforce it. After awhile, Jim's fingers tightened on hers and pulled Mira to him. She came willingly, cuddling into his side and languorously kissing him while her hands roamed his body. His hand slipped inside her top to squeeze her breast as hers slid down into his trunks to find his proud cock and slowly stroke it as they kissed each other deeply. She moaned and did not resist as he popped her boobs out of their cups and began to suckle. Her hand tightened on his prick and sped up as her nipples hardened, her pussy loosened, and she felt her feminine oils wet her nether lips. His hand found her clit and began to masturbate her as she masturbated him.

"Si ... si, mi papi! Don't stop! Feels so good! Don't stop! Si! Si! Si! I'm close, so very close! I want it! Make me spend for you, mi amor! Make me! Make me! Por favor, make me spend on your hand!"

He groaned, trying to split his attention between his own pleasure and his duty to satisfying his lover. He gasped against her tits, but his hand never stopped moving on her concha. He got first one finger into her, then two, exciting her further.

Suddenly his cock erupted, gouting into her hand and his swimsuit; she felt it and smiled even as her own climax overtook her and her back arched, thrusting her twat against his invading hand as her pleasure center was overwhelmed. She fell back limply onto the deck of the float, her ragged breathing gradually coming back to normal while her younger lover eased off the nipple he had been locked onto.

"Oh, Jim," Mira said when she could talk again, "you are so good at pleasuring me. Any woman who has you as her lover will be happy in your arms and in your bed, or anywhere you have the chance to make her spend for you. But right now, we should return to the penthouse, clean up, and perhaps nap for a bit."

Tucking herself back into her top, she dove into the water and leisurely swam for the dock, Jim following a few seconds later. She accepted his wrapping her beach towel around her, drying her off while at the same time caressing her lush body. Hand in hand, they walked across the lobby, where Manuel intercepted them.

"Doña, Don Diego, el Capitán Emiliano asked me to tell you that Marco has arrived with the parts to repair his fishing cruiser. He asks if you might have an old mattress that would fit in the bed of Marco's truck, to make the trip back to Manzanillo more comfortable for the boys riding in the back."

Almira frowned as she ran down a mental inventory of what was in which storeroom, then brightened.

"Please be so kind as to inform the captain that there is a mattress in the second floor linen storeroom that will do, and that you will bring it to him in the morning. You know the ones; the old cotton mattresses we keep in case someone asks for a child's bed when we have to set up a bed frame." Manuel nodded, committing instruction to memory.

"Mi amor, if you would excuse me for a few minutes? I would like to look over the truck. I suspect it has no cap on the bed, and that could be a problem." Almira smiled a little sadly and dismissed him with a wave, turning for the stairs.

Manuel led Jim to where Marco had parked the pickup. As expected, it showed the wear years of living near salt water and under a tropical sun would inflict on it, but mechanically it looked solid. Emiliano, Julio and a younger Mexican man were beside it, arguing in Spanish over the best way to move the heavy pump in the bed down to and aboard the Ojo Grande.

"Ah, mi amigo! Our replacement parts have finally arrived! But now we must get them aboard the boat. Have you any suggestions?"

"I have given that some thought, mi capitán. There is a small crane on the dock the sportsmen use to hoist their billfish out of the boat. It is sturdy enough to lift and lower the pump into the engine compartment. But before we do that, we first run in the new intake line, and then pull the Ojo Grande off the beach and alongside the dock, if that meets with your approval. The work would go easier that way."

"Indeed, I had not thought of that crane. It would make life easier. But that still leaves us with the problem of getting the pump under the crane. It is too heavy and awkward to carry across soft sand. Were we to drop it, we would have to disassemble it to be sure of getting all the sand out."

"Still no problem. We carry the pump to the edge of the beach on its pallet, then put it on a sheet of plywood with ropes attached to holes drilled in the plywood, and drag it to the dock as on a sledge; and then carry it by hand the rest of the way."

Emiliano smiled, the first time that expression had crossed his face in days. "I am so very glad you were aboard the Ojo Grande when she broke down, Don Diego."

"You would have thought of it eventually, mi capitán. But there is another problem. May I presume that Marco here does not have a cover for the truck bed?"

"Only this tarpaulin to draw over it," Marco said, gesturing to an untidy lump lying by the truck. Jim began to pull at it, obviously trying to lay it flat. After a sharp look and a gesture from Emiliano, Marco belatedly came to help. The tarp in question was a blue 10-foot by 10-foot polyethylene sheet with grommets in the corners and about every two feet along the sides. Jim looked at it and then at the sides of the truck, noting the holes meant to allow attaching a cap or stakes. He also saw the hooks on the outside of the bed that Marco obviously used as tie-downs. The captain saw his eyes go out of focus, and nudged Julio, who also knew what this meant. Muttering to himself, Jim turned to Manuel, who had stood silently by while the don had asked his questions, and asked, "Where can I find my brother gringos?"

"They are in the cantina, Don Diego."

Without another word, Jim walked away. Entering the cantina by the side door, he found them sitting with their girls, sharing a pitcher of iced sangria. They looked up as he came to the table.

"Brother Warwick, if you don't want to die of sunburn on the trip back to Manzanillo tomorrow, you need to go into town and buy some things. Paper ... I need paper ..." He spotted a notepad and pencil by the phone and stood at the bar scribbling for a minute before returning.

"Wood, nuts, bolts, and rope. We're going to build a frame for that truck bed to keep the sun off you. In the unlikely event it rains, it will keep you dry as well. You don't have much time, so best you were off." He dropped the shopping list on the table and walked away. Warwick picked it up and looked at it before looking at the others.

"Where can we get all this?"

Ximena motioned for the list and he slid it across the table to her. She read it and relaxed.

"If you and Idola will come with me and Hayes, we can have all of this here in an hour. Don Diego clearly knows what he is doing." She got up, pulling Hayes out of his chair with her and started for the door, leaving Warwick and Idola no choice but to follow.

When they returned with the supplies Jim had sent them to get, he was waiting with a carpenter's toolbox and a sketch with measurements for the build. There were no power tools, but the project was simple enough that they weren't needed. Warwick was a Builder and used to working with him, and both Hayes and the two girls took direction well. It did not take them long to build the frame, stretch the tarp over it, anchor the corners with bolts, and tie the side grommets down to the hooks.

"Put the mattress in the bed tomorrow," said Jim with satisfaction, "and your trip back to Manzanillo should not be too uncomfortable."

"I will make sure that you have something to drink along the way," promised Ximena, her arm around Hayes' waist.

"And if I mention it to Raquella, I am certain she will pack you a basket of fresh-baked cookies and such for the trip," added Idola. "She comes from a family of bakers, you know."

"One more thing, milord. If I may be so bold as to suggest it, tell the guys to dress for dinner tonight. Last night out and all," said Jim quietly. He turned away and was spared the looks of pain that crossed the faces of the two couples.

Jim walked back to the Azul's waterfront patio. On the beach, a wide stripe in the sand ended at the dock with a half-sheet of plywood, and up on the dock Julio and Emiliano were muscling the replacement pump into the arc of the dock crane. He waved to them; they waved back, the job obviously well in hand. He headed for the penthouse instead, where he found Almira waiting for him, clad in a come-hither negligee.

Dinner that evening had a fiesta air. The Doña had ordered the kitchen to prepare soft tortillas and platters with bowls and plates of tortilla fixings as the main course, with a setup for each table, and to keep the food hot and coming. The Tri-Sigs and their paramours gamely attacked all that was put before them, washing it down with dark beer which complemented the paper thin slices of spiced beef, sweet peppers, onions, lettuce, and cheeses nicely. Dessert was a pastel de tres leches, a sinfully rich, heavy cake that Hayes, in a comment to Ximena which evoked chuckles all around the gringos' table, declared to be so sweet just looking at it would give you a cavity. It was an excellent counterpoint to the robust Mexican coffee that ended the meal.

The boys and their girls moved into the cantina and were joined by Almira and Jim, much to the surprise of the others. Knowing their drinking habits by now, without being told Manuel sent sangria to their table, along with a bottle of mescal añejo, two glasses, and a bowl of shelled nuts. Jim was secretly pleased to observe Novia and Pilar standing at the bar, shut out of the proceedings and plainly regretting it.

There was a great deal of cuddling at the table, as well as reminiscing about one day spent water-skiing, and another where they had gone to the hacienda owned by Ardiana's parents outside the town for a day of horseback riding and picnicking. Jim and Almira couldn't contribute much to the conversation; they had been so caught up in each other they had only seen the others at breakfast and dinner.

Mira beckoned Manuel over and whispered in his ear. He nodded, returning to the bar to pick up some coins before going to the jukebox and making his selections. A short time later, slow, romantic Mexican guitar music came from the speakers and Almira pulled Jim to his feet.

"Come, mi amor. Dance with me." She led him onto the floor and they began to fox-trot, moving easily to the music.

Warwick's eyebrows rose at the sight of his protégé confidently dancing with his lady. It was a standing joke among the Tri-Sigs that the bronze statue of Michael Kaplan in front of the administration building was a better dancer than their brother Professor X. Yet there Jim was, moving easily across the floor without even watching his feet. Warwick had little time to ponder the matter, though. The Mexican lovelies were pulling their gringo lovers and the Mexican businessmen at the other tables onto the dance floor, snuggling close, pretending the night would never end and tomorrow would never come.

The dancers changed in a sort of Brownian motion depending on their skill and energy levels. After three numbers, Jim and Mira returned to the table to refresh themselves, along with Raquella, Tarpals, Dayanara, and Ohnaka. As the next slow song began, Mira turned to Ohnaka and said, "I am being a poor hostess, ignoring my other guests. Would you care to dance with me?" The ladies' man rose and bowed, saying, "I would be honored, Doña," leading her out. Taking his lover's hint, Jim turned to Raquella, said, "Shall we, señora?" and offered his hand. She rose with a curtsey and took it, picking up the beat and nestling against him as they moved on the floor.

After that, partners were never constant for more than a dance or two. Jim found to his surprise that only Warwick could dance more than the box step, and Hayes could not even do that very well. He apparently had learned more than he thought from Almira's teaching. In the back of his mind, he began to wonder if half of his social problems stemmed from a lack of confidence and the fear of looking ridiculous and being mocked, rather than an innate lack of grace and coordination as he had always supposed.

During a break from the dancing, the deskman came to the table and informed the Doña that there was a problem requiring her attention. She excused herself to deal with it, and when a new, especially slow ballad began Ximena came over, took Jim's hand, and led him out to dance, flowing into his arms while Hayes buried his face in a goblet of iced sangria, obviously in need of some time to recharge his batteries.

Ximena was, in Jim's admittedly limited experience, a good dancer; almost as good as Mira. They moved in a comfortable box step, able to talk and dance at the same time, which was not the case with all of the girls – or the boys, for that matter.

"Ah, Don Diego, would that I had seen you first," she said softly, pressing so closely into him that there wasn't a single point on their torsos not in contact. "I suspect the two of us could have spent a most enjoyable vacation together. You must have a great deal to offer, or the Doña would not have become involved with you."

"In truth, thou beauteous night-blooming blossom of sweet and abundant assets, it was she who offered the greater deal to me, a tabula rasa upon which she could write with the pen of Eros whatever story she chose. I am but a humble supplicant in her Temple of Eros, and anything I might offer to another I have learned from her. One must give credit where credit is due."

She rubbed against him shamelessly, feeling the erection between them, wordlessly letting him know of her availability. "I have often thought that I should visit New York City one day."

"And on that day, I would be more than delighted to guide you, enjoying the charms high and low and the many pleasures offered. You would be a most welcome guest."

"I dare say that since you came here you have acquired great skill in climbing the magic mountain from the valley of delight, mi terroncito de azúcar."

"Doña Almira has not complained and seems to enjoy the time we spend in each other's arms, sipping the so sweet nectar of romance, tú más de zorra sensual y deseable."

"Perhaps one day shall I as well, Don Diego," she purred. As the music ended, she stretched up and kissed him, making it plain hers was a genuine offer. She did not let go of his hand until they approached the table where Almira and Hayes were chatting.