Reunion - Mexico City Ch. 04

Chapultepec Castle was not built as a fortress but as a luxury residence, later converted to a military academy, it was the "West Point" of Mexico.

On September 13,1847 during the Mexican--American War. The building, sitting atop a 200-foot hill, was an important position for the defense of the city.

That day, American forces under General Winfield Scott, assaulted and captured the citadel after a long artillery bombardment, thus clearing the way for the fall of the city itself.

I remembered the efforts of the U.S. Marines in this battle and subsequent occupation of Mexico City were memorialized by the opening lines of the "Marines' Hymn", "From the Halls of Montezuma...".

These thoughts, and many others, regarding the history of the ground I was running on came to mind as I looked at the white stone walls from the park below.

I knew that battle, 140 years ago, dramatically changed the history of both the United States and Mexico. With the fall of Mexico City, the war was effectively over, and in its aftermath the U.S. was ceded what is now the entire southwest including California and Texas.

I grew up as an army brat. My father had made the Air Force a career and we followed him all over the world as he was transferred from one station to another. Japan, England, Germany and France were stops along the way.

My own service in the Army had only taken me to Panama, Okinawa and Vietnam, but on returning to civilian life, I joined a company that a few years later, would open up most of the rest of the world for me.

Some years ago at the age of 28, I had risen to the position of Vice President of Business Development, a long title, but I was essentially charged with finding companies to acquire and integrate into my firm's global expansion plan.

I was in Mexico City as part of one such potential buy out. We had identified a Mexican company that would be a springboard into a number of markets in Latin America. Preliminary discussions had proved fruitful, but before we would be consummating any deal, I had to assure our board of directors that we knew what we were buying.

In business parlance, that's known as "due diligence." For the last two days I had been cooped up in a small meeting room in the Intercontinental Presidente hotel across the street from the beautiful park where I was finishing a three mile morning run. We were slogging through the financial statements we had been provided plus as much other public information that we could find.

Sweat was pouring from my forehead and my lungs were exploding in my chest as I gasped for air. The 7,000 foot altitude of Mexico City had affected me more than I thought it would, but at 49 years old, I shouldn't have been so naive. After I finished only three miles of my normal five mile run, I was done. As I hunched over with my hands on my knees I looked up at the citadel on the hill one last time and just shook my head.

My normal warm down trot was a rather leisurely warm down walk as I navigated myself across the six lanes of the busy Paseo de la Reforma back to the hotel.

Unlike the previous day, when Mexico City had experienced an abnormal temperature inversion resulting in day long pea soup fog, today promised to be brighter, if not yet quite clear.

As I entered the hotel, I idly wondered about how the other guests and staff regarded people like myself. I was still dripping sweat and my shirt and pants were soaked, my hair was a mess and in general, I looked like a bum. I guessed that I might not be the only one they saw every day.

There was still one more thing I had to do though before I hit the shower. My room was on the 17th floor of the hotel and my final challenge was to climb those seventeen floors of steps. My heart was still pounding from the run, so I paused a moment at the bottom. I couldn't see very far, just to the top of the first flight. But I was actually glad about that, because if I could have seen all the way to the top, I might have reconsidered the whole idea.

I decided to run a flight and then walk a flight, but by the fourth floor it changed to run a flight and walk three flights. By the time I emerged on the 17th floor, I was truly near the end of my endurance.mm

It was only a little past 7 am when I swiped the card key in the lock and I didn't know if Maribeth would still be in bed. Usually she was at least awake, but most of the time she was up and about when I returned from my morning ritual.

She was sitting at the marble desk that faced the huge picture window that dominated the room. She had opened the blinds and the morning sun was reflecting off her brownish blonde hair which she was brushing out in long strokes. I remembered that she had gone to bed the previous evening with it wet.

She glanced in my direction and smiled. "I've been watching you run in the park." She said. Then noting my condition, she asked, "Are you OK? You look a mess." I forced a smile and nodded. "Yes, the prognosis is that I'll live."

I wasted no time in doffing my soaked clothes and throwing them in a plastic laundry bag. As I walked across the room heading for the shower, Maribeth's eyes followed me. The run/walk up the stairs had rubbed my cock roughly against my pants with the result being I had achieved a semi-hard erection which was bobbing in front of me, and it was clear that this was where the lady's attention was focused.

I was just about to turn on the shower when I heard a voice from behind me. "Stop. Come here."

When I turned around, Maribeth had slid to her knees on the carpet and was in the process of slipping her robe off her shoulders. The little devil on my left shoulder was providing color commentary. "There's a naked and very aroused woman that's on her knees and wants you to come to her. She desires you, she seeks to please you, she wishes for you to give her your cock to suck."

The little devil was correct. When I got close enough, Maribeth reached for me and encircled my shaft with her small warm hand. Her eyes looked up searching for mine, and as I watched her delicate tongue ran across her lips before it extended and made contact with the head of my penis.

She ran her tongue in a circular motion around my glans which produced an immediate firming of my cock. Apparently pleased with the reaction, she kissed up and down the shaft, pausing to inhale the warm aroma at the base. One of her hands reached around and cupped one butt cheek while the other removed itself from my cock and began gently massaging my balls.

My member had no further need of Maribeth's support. It was standing proud as her lips and tongue slid along its length. When they reached the tip she paused and looked up. Then making sure she had my full attention she opened her mouth and placed me at the entrance. I knew she was now teasing me.

Our eyes locked for just a moment, then she bent forward enough to take a couple of inches into her mouth. When she sealed the opening with her lips the warmth almost knocked me off my feet.

Only some ten hours previously, I had emptied myself into Maribeth's warm wet cunt and I had just completed a grueling morning workout. To say that I was being physically challenged would have been one of history's classic understatements.

Despite this however, Maribeth was weaving her magic. Lips and tongue washed over my flesh and against all odds I was responding. It seemed to me that the gentle massage she continued with my balls and the wet warmth of her mouth were combining to overcome whatever fatigue the rest of my body was feeling.

The beginning of my release just started with a change in sensitivity. When this happened, each stroke, each suck and each nip of Maribeth's lips brought me closer. She knew what she was doing, she'd experienced me many times and the signals were unmistakable.

With so little time to recover from our previous night's coupling, when it came, my ejaculation into Maribeth's mouth was long on pleasurable spasms which racked my body, but short on substance. My spending was thin and translucent, a far cry from the copious pearl colored liquid I deposited in Maribeth's clutching pussy just a few hours before.

I felt both of her hands reach for my butt, and she held me in her mouth for perhaps another minute after my pulsations had stopped. I deflating rapidly, but that seemed irrelevant to Maribeth who continued to give me an occasional suck. Finally she looked up and removed me from her mouth, I could see her tongue working and it reached out to recapture an escaping stream of what I'd deposited before her throat muscles indicated that she had swallowed it all. She looked up and smiled just before she placed a last kiss on the now unimpressive tip.

There was hardly any evidence left at the scene of the crime, and what there had been, was now sitting happily in Maribeth's belly.

I pulled her to her feet and kissed her full on her mouth. Our tongues met and swapped oral moisture. She tasted musky, but not significantly different than any other morning, and if I had not actually witnessed her taking my cock into her warm mouth I could have been convinced that it hadn't happened.

"Was that planned, or just spontaneous?" I wanted to know, breaking our kiss and hugging our naked bodies closer.

"Spontaneous, I think," was Maribeth's uncertain reply. "You probably don't realize it, but the smell of you is off the charts. My poor female brain just couldn't take any more. I just had to have you, to hold you, to make love to you..." Her voice faltered. It seemed there was more, but she was struggling to find words.

"Often....in fact, most of the time, my pleasure....my deepest pleasure, comes when I give myself to you." She paused, again looking for some word, some phrase, some idea that could communicate deep emotion. "I don't know....You pleasure me, I pleasure you, we pleasure each other.... it's all the same thing....do you understand?"

I did.

The next kiss was physical, but it was meant to say something about the spiritual union we had, but Maribeth was so struggling to put into words. It was a a kiss that lasted a long time. It was a soulful kiss.

I showered alone for practical reasons. Maribeth had finally succeeded in drying her long tresses and was reluctant to start the process all over again. Also the regimen I use after strenuous exercise is dramatically different than when we're together. I like to crank up the heat to almost scalding for a few minutes while I soap and rinse. Sometimes I like to let the water beat on my head. But at the end, I turned the hot water off for about a minute and stood under the cold spray. I hated that part, but I had to admit that, when done, all fatigue had disappeared and I felt braced and ready for the day.

When I walked back into the bedroom, Maribeth was in the process of buttoning the back of a pretty green flowered skirt. I suppose there's a name for the style, but I didn't know what it was. The lime colored cotton blouse that followed had billowing sleeves and I thought the combination was perfect attire for a day in Mexico City.

I dressed just as I had for the past couple of days; khaki trousers, a polo shirt (navy blue today), a blue blazer and loafers with no socks.

For the third morning in a row we took our breakfast in the Atrium Cafe and again opted for the buffet rather than ordering from the menu. After breakfast, Maribeth was going to call Val again, but if she wasn't available, she'd figure out something to keep herself occupied while I met with the accountants.

Before I kissed her goodbye, I told her to check with me if she decided to go out, because there was a chance we might finish early, and if so, we could do something together. Maribeth gave a little squeal of excitement at the prospect and promised she would.

When I got to the meeting room, I was surprised to find three people instead of the two I had expected. Manuel introduced me to his "amigo" Felipe. In Mexico an "amigo," can refer to someone you just met 10 seconds ago or to a life long friend. There's not much one can discern from that word. It turned out that Felipe had been a classmate of Manuel at the National University, and like him was an accountant, but just not any accountant. Until two years ago he had worked for our target company.

Whenever we evaluate the "fit" of a prospective acquisition, we always try to find a way to get some insider information. There are a lot of ways to do this; some are legal and some are not, others may be technically "legal," but are as immoral as hell. My rule is simple; it can't be illegal nor immoral.

Felipe had left the company on his own volition and he assured us that he wasn't bound by any non-disclosure agreements. He was the perfect "insider" for our purposes. Of course we would be paying him for his time and information. We quickly agreed on a per diem for his time, but all information didn't have the same value. I told Felipe we would pay for information, but he'd have to trust me to be fair about how much it was worth.

Felipe had a short conversation with Manuel, which I was certain could be paraphrased as "can I trust this guy?" When Felipe turned back to me we shook hands and I guessed we had a deal.

I wanted to discuss the two pages of questions that I'd written down from the review that we'd already conducted, but I've found through experience that the most valuable information is often something you've never even thought to ask about. So, for the next three hours I had Felipe just talk without providing any structure.

It was enlightening to say the least. Not only did he seem to have an excellent memory for detail he also was able to provide some insight about the people that I would eventually be sitting down with at the negotiating table. I was so impressed that I went back to my room and opened the small safe that was located there.

At the time the peso exchange rate was 103 to the dollar, so I peeled off 20 one thousand peso notes, relocked the safe, and returned to the meeting room. When I laid the pesos in front of Felipe his eyes got big and he couldn't stop saying "gracias."

Truly, his insights might eventually prove to be worth more than a measly $2,000 but he'd already earned that much.

We skipped lunch to go down my list of unanswered questions and I was able to scratch about a quarter of them off. I gave Felipe another 20,000 pesos and he left beaming. I had no illusions that the Mexican equivalent of the IRS would ever see any of that money reported as income.

It was after 4pm and we'd wrapped up everything I had planned for this workweek. On Monday, we'd start talking to bankers, clients and in some cases, government officials. Some of these conversations would be held directly, but most would be through intermediaries so that the real purpose behind the questions could remain confidential. I thanked and shook hands with Manuel and Pepe, but before they left I pulled Manuel aside and whispered that I was giving him a 1000 peso "finder's bonus."

Maribeth had not put in an appearance as I had requested she do if she was going to be out, so I assumed she was still somewhere around the hotel.

I didn't have to search very far. I found her sitting in the Atrium Cafe with two young women that I guessed to be in their late twenties. When Maribeth saw me, she waved me over and made introductions. It turned out that the two ladies; Penny and Margarita, were members of the same riding stables that Maribeth belonged to in San Antonio.

I never did find out exactly why they were in Mexico City, whether they came together or separately, whether spouses, if any, were along or pretty much any other useful information. If you've ever been in a conversation where everyone else has shared experiences you don't have, then you know the feeling. For an hour I was the sole witness to a three way dialogue where no sentence was ever completed, no event described with any hint of context, and no person's relationship to any other person identified. In short, a normal female chat.

I noted all three ladies had bottles of Pellegrino sparkling water, but I was craving something more substantial. Despite skipping lunch I wasn't yet starving, but I was looking for something that had "happy hour" wrapped around it. When I made a proposal to take the conversation to the 25th floor, Penny and Margarita suddenly looked at their watches and exclaimed in unison about the lateness of the hour. There were goodbye kisses all around with hollow promises to "get together later," and all of a sudden Maribeth and I were alone.

When I looked at her, Maribeth had a wide smile which a few seconds later broke into gut splitting laughter. I didn't know the joke, but whatever it was, I knew I was the butt of it. She was still laughing when I escorted her into the elevator where I punched the button with 25 etched on it.

I brought her close and she collapsed against my body. Maribeth was gasping for breath. Finally she was able to get out a few words. "I'm so sorry," she blurted, "you looked like a fish out of water." It seemed that Maribeth was not oblivious to what had just transpired, so I just hugged her still giggling body all the way to the 25th floor.

Over his and her tequila sunrises, Maribeth filled me in on her day and how she happened to run into the two ladies. It struck me as unremarkable except to show, once again, that it's a small world.

I spent considerably more time telling her about my day with Felipe. When I got to the part about going up to the room and getting the pesos, she said, "I didn't even know the room had a safe, where is it and how much money do you carry?" I laughed and told her it was behind the only picture in room and that normally when I do "due diligence," I have immediate access to about $10,000. Her next question was why did I need to carry so much money. I replied, for exactly what happened today. Information is valuable and most of the time you have to pay for it.

Then I added, "you won't believe how much paperwork I'm going to have to fill out to explain where that money went." Since Maribeth herself worked in one of the country's largest bureaucracies, she just nodded in complete understanding.

We had taken a table in the corner of the bar and I, for one, was ready for a change of subject. I scooted closer so that I could lean forward and kiss Maribeth without falling off my chair. I was becoming addicted to her lips and I explained that since it had been almost nine hours, that I was exhibiting withdrawal symptoms, so the kiss was just for medicinal purposes. Why the kiss was followed by a soft punch to my jaw remains a mystery.

I was in the mood for a serious change of pace. I had come to Mexico anticipating that we would be sampling the breath of Mexican cuisine, but I had an itch and a Friday night with Maribeth on my arm seemed like a perfect time to scratch it.

I hadn't found her to be a particularly picky eater, but for what I had in mind, I needed to check. I told her that I was thinking about a restaurant for dinner, but I needed to know if she liked Japanese food, and specifically teppanyaki. Maribeth cocked her head like she was trying to dredge up a memory and said that she thought so, but could I describe it a little more.

I said that teppanyaki was essentially flat grill cooking and it was done right in front of people who sat around the grill. I could see a hint of recognition and Maribeth said, "Like Benihana?"

"Yes, exactly like Benihana."

When Maribeth nodded, I signed the tab and we headed downstairs to our room. We changed clothes and Maribeth freshened her makeup. Then we grabbed our coats and descended to the lobby level. A bellman signaled a cab and I asked Maribeth to tell the driver we wanted to go to the Ryoko Restaurant in the Cuauhtémoc District.