Reunion - Mexico City Ch. 07

Never had I slept so soundly than I did on Sunday night. Maribeth and I had ended up with an unexpected free evening when a planned dinner with one of her former Psych Professor's had to be canceled at the last minute.

On the way back from dinner in Polanco we had walked past a small bookstore that was displaying three books of Victorian Erotica which had started a conversation about my own history of writing and my sexual fantasies.

One of these was about a fictional sex club in which men were clothed but women were required to be naked at all times. When Maribeth began visualizing accompanying me to such a place, and being completely nude in front of other men and women in such an exclusive setting, she became highly aroused and it led to the most explosive and satisfying sexual union of our lives.

I remembered that in the moments immediately after, when she had recovered enough to speak, she had looked up at me with tear stained eyes and had said...

You know, another one of your fantasy's may kill us."

We were both too spent to hold anything resembling a coherent conversation, so as I remembered we just cuddled and were both soon asleep in what I would like to say was sexual fulfillment, but which I expect was exhaustion.

We had not closed the blinds of the huge picture window, but since we were on the 17th floor of the Intercontinental Presidente Hotel in Mexico City and overlooked a 1700 acre park, no prying eyes were likely. But sometime during the night we had moved to the dry side of the suite's king sized bed away from a good sized wet spot that marked the site of last night's sexual combat.

It was 5:30 in the morning and the first hint of the upcoming sunrise could be seen as a peach colored hue in the sky. I looked at Maribeth, mostly concealed beneath the heavy comforter and noted the contrast between her angelic sleeping face and the sprawl of disheveled hair spread across the pillow. "What the fuck..." I thought to myself. I got up and walked to the glass walled bathroom that was the unique feature of this particular suite and took care of necessary business, but before leaving I looked at myself in the mirror.

While I had a lot less hair than Maribeth, what I had, looked like it had been combed by a food mixer, plus I ran my fingers through what was now a six day growth of hair on my face. I had never tried to grow a beard before and it was just beginning to transition to that from five days of ever finer stubble. I knew it would be gone by the end of the trip, but I was still debating the look.

It was still a little early for my morning run, but I doubted that if I waited another 45 minutes, that I would be any more motivated, so I took a last look at Maribeth, put on my running gear and slipped out the door. The 34 flights of stairs decent to the lobby level served as an adequate warm up, so I found myself running along the Paseo de Reforma, at a full jog. My choices of a route were endless but for the last several days I'd run in Chapultepec Park across the Paseo, but since I was out early, I decided to run around it.

The early morning chill quickly disappeared as my body warmed from the exercise and soon I was running comfortably. The Mexico City Zoo is located near the north end of the park and a view of part of it could be seen from the street. Two brown bears were up early and I waved as I went by.

During the week, I had cut my morning run from five to three miles to compensate for the 7,000 ft. altitude, but in order to complete the circuit around the park, I knew it would be more like my normal five, I was feeling pretty good so I thought I'd give it a go.

Well, it wasn't bad, but I sure didn't set any personal records and I was pretty winded at the end, but I made it back to the room feeling somewhat better than when I'd left 45 minutes previously. Maribeth was still sleeping, but my shower apparently awakened her. I was shampooing my hair when I felt two slim arms encircling my body and a gentle voice whispered in my ear, "I love you."

I washed soap out of my eyes and turned so we were face to face. "Hi babe, sleep well?" I said as I took her into my arms.

"I've never..... ever..... ever.... been made love to like that." she gushed, and she raised her lips for a kiss. I felt her hands caressing the muscles on my back, shoulders and biceps, and I knew she was savoring my masculinity just as I did her femaleness when I'd do the same.

It was clear to me that we were both sexually sated and the shower was our first opportunity to confirm our love after my promised night of debauchery. I returned her caresses and brought her more under the warm spray. We had taken countless showers together dating back 23 years ago when one memorable night in Norfolk I had been responsible for relieving her of her burdensome virginity.

Personally, I find shower kisses to be extremely satisfying and exciting. The feel of lips touching wet skin is, I believe, a very much under appreciated aspect of sexuality. I was aware that the aromas of sweat and last night's sexual arousal was being washed down the drain and being replaced by the fresh smells of soap and shampoo. I had never thought about this before, and when I expressed the thought to Maribeth she pressed her nose against my chest and just moaned a long "ummmmm."

Several times in the past, I had assisted Maribeth in washing her long tresses. While she busied herself with the top of her head massaging shampoo into her roots, I filled my hands with her bounty below. Not for the first time, I thought about this aspect of her femininity. Hair and hair style is probably one of the most visible and unique aspects of femaleness that has existed since the dawn of humanity and I was enjoying the experience of participating in this one small ritual. Maribeth looked over her shoulder and smiled, but I knew she had no idea of where my thoughts had just journeyed.

Of course, between us, no mutual shower would be complete without ensuring that our unique boy and girl parts received special attention. My soapy hands cupped, fondled, pinched and caressed her breasts at the same time she was busy below. Maribeth especially seemed to enjoy holding my package and weighing the contents. When she discovered that she could sort of roll my balls abound in the palm of her hand she moaned a quiet "ummm," but it wasn't clear whether it was caused by what my hands were doing or her's.

At the conclusion of last night's "festivities," Maribeth's pussy had been so sensitive that it wasn't until now that I dared to touch her there, but when my fingers slipped between her legs, she sort of crouched down which pressed my hand more strongly against her womanhood. I was receiving a constant series of rewarding "ummmm's," and so I assumed the lady was satisfied with my attention.

We had scrubbed each other ten times over by the time we emerged. I helped Maribeth towel off and she immediately turned to combing water out of her hair over the vanity sink. I was truly amazed how much it was and when she caught me looking at her image in the mirror, she just smiled and shook her head. I helped her towel out some more water before it was time to use the hair dryer. I appreciated that she remained naked while she ran the dryer over her head, since I found the rise and fall of her breasts to be more than interesting.

Because of the unique glass walls of the bathroom, I was able to watch her for over the twenty minutes it took for Maribeth to finish drying. In that time I had dressed and was ready for breakfast when she emerged and did likewise.

Every morning we had taken breakfast in the Atrium Cafe in the hotel. The attraction for me was the availability of both a buffet which we'd used several times when we just wanted something quick and menu service if we desired something more substantial. This morning, I was very much in the mood for the latter.

I had already expressed my opinion about my lack of interest in Mexican breakfast offerings, so I opted for my old standby; fried eggs, country sausage patties, hash browns, buttered toast and coffee. Maribeth went lighter with a muffin and vanilla yogurt with hot tea. We had selected a booth tucked away in one of the closed corners of the cafe and it was about as private as the restaurant offered.

"Your fantasies are having a profound effect on me," Maribeth said over the rim of her cup. I choose not to immediately respond to her comment, since I was interested in where this might lead, so I murmured a noncommittal "umm," and waited to see if Maribeth was going to continue.

"When I was learning belly dancing it was always in a class with only other women, and we all said that it was just good exercise, and even when I did in in front of mixed audiences, that was still my mindset. Oh I knew that some of the men might find it titillating, and I guessed I liked the idea that I was the focus of their attention, and I found it interesting, but not really sexually arousing."

Maribeth paused and it seemed for a moment she wasn't sure how to continue.

"Then we did the photoshoots. I remember when it evolved from boudoir to erotic softcore shots and then you took pictures of me sucking your cock and fucking my pussy. I was so turned on, so wet. I look at those often and sometimes wonder who the woman is..." Another long pause.

"Uh...sometimes, when I'm...you know, taking care of myself, I sometimes picture you showing those pictures to one of your friends. Oh....I know you never would, but the thoughts of a stranger.... someone I don't know and doesn't know me...uh, seeing my naked body, sometimes...."

And then, Maribeth blushed and looked around to make sure no one was listening in on her confession. She took a deep breath and looked lovingly into my eyes.

"Sometimes...this is the image I have in my mind when I.....you know...make myself cum."

At this last comment, Maribeth's eyes dropped in embarrassment and she uttered a nervous laugh. I could see there was more she wanted to say but she was obviously struggling to build up her courage.

"Last night.... your fantasy.... I don't know... I could see myself in the situation you described.... and I.... I.... I wanted to do it.... Oh God.... I'm so embarrassed to confess that the image was.... so.... so, exciting, that.... I felt my pussy become so wet.... so aroused.... and when you fucked me.... I.... I.... I just exploded in a way I've never felt before. Oh God, why did I feel that way.... I would never...." Her voice trailed off as she looked across the table and sort of bit her tongue, looking for some response from me.

I reached across and took both of Maribeth's in mine, and looked deeply into her eyes. "I've always thought of fantasy as a mirror that your soul holds up to you every once in a while, it represents some of your deepest desires, whether society approves or not. Let me ask you a question, would it have been as exciting if you weren't with me, just by yourself in front of strangers?"

"Oh God, No," was her quick response. "No, no, no it's power was in the fact that I thought I was pleasing....you! God no, without you being there I would be so terrified..." Then, it was as if a light came on in Maribeth's mind, and I could see the psychologist in her emerge.

"It's not deviant, is it? I don't desire to expose myself in front of strangers because I'm excited by that, it's just another level of intimacy that you and I share, isn't it?" I smiled and nodded, and I could see the look of relief that crossed over her face.

Maribeth squeezed my hand and took a sip of her tea. "Then I guess I don't have to worry about the other images either," she chuckled.

"What images?" I wanted to know.

"Oh, no, no no.... you're just going to have to wait to find out about those" she said, continuing to quietly laugh under her breath.

Unfortunately, the reason Maribeth and I were sitting in a cafe in Mexico City was because I was in town to check out a potential acquisition that my company was considering. I had spent much of the previous week closeted in a small meeting room in the hotel's business suite meeting with Mexican accountants and this week I planned to finish the process.

Maribeth kissed me good bye and said she might call a lady she had met the previous week and see if they could do something together, but if not, she was off to the nail salon and later, might get a massage.

"Like one of mine," I wanted to know.

"Not possible," she smiled over her shoulder as she headed toward the elevators.

The Mexican accountants, Manuel and Pepe, were waiting for me when I got to the meeting room. We shook hands and inquired about each other's weekend. Mine had been fantastic, but I chose just to tell them the travelog part. I told Manuel that his brother-in-law, Carlos, had proven to be a great guide on Sunday when we had driven up to see the Pyramids at

Teotihuacan and I thanked him for the suggestion.

We spent the morning reviewing Manuel's written report of the findings we had made the previous week which only required a few modifications or additions from Me or Pepe. When done, I gave instructions to forward the report to the company CFO, and we turned to the issue of a Bolivian subsidiary that we had learned of.

Pepe had been responsible for tracking that one down through his firm's Bolivian office. He had a copy of some financial statements as well as a copy of a short report they'd sent him. It appeared to be a small distribution company, which was consistent with the fact that we knew our acquisition target exported to South America and was one of its features we found attractive. My only real concern was whether there was any indication of money laundering given it's proximity to the Colombian drug cartels, but there was no worrisome cash transactions that we could see and it appeared to be exactly what it claimed to be.

After lunch, Manuel and I went to visit our target's major client, in a suburb of the city. I had a number of other inquiries also taking place, but they were being conducted through intermediaries to maintain confidentiality. Since this was the target's largest client however, it was important to know how they would view an acquisition, I would be meeting them personally.

As always, Mexican hospitality was gracious, and it wasn't surprising that Don Ernesto was good friends with one of our other Mexican partnerships. Indeed I would have found it amazing if that wasn't the case. There are about 100 families that own upwards of 80% of all Mexican companies, and since I had met members of many of them, we discovered a lot of mutual acquaintances.

Over the years, I had learned that Mexicans never talk about business in direct and candid terms. Facts are gleaned from asides and innuendos. I had some experience with this, but it was very helpful to have Manuel's trained ear along as well. One thing we learned was our target company practiced what's known as "pull forward" accounting. Lots of companies do this, and while it's borderline illegal, it's also quite common.

In short, in order to elevate the financial results in a current accounting period, the firm pulls orders scheduled for later delivery "forward," so they appear in the current one. Usually, the transaction is reversed later, and even though it's misleading to an extent it isn't a major red flag unless they weren't valid orders in the first place, and I didn't think this was the case. It would be a talking point during negotiations later, if we decided to press forward.

I was pleased that there seemed to be no objections to our acquisition as long as the current owners were favorable. This had been my assumption all along, but it was nice to hear it from Don Ernesto himself. On the way back to the hotel, Manuel filled me in on some things he'd picked up. Some might affect our negotiation strategy, but nothing seemed to be deal killers.

After I was dropped off, I did a quick check of the pool and lounge on the lobby floor, but Maribeth wasn't in either, so I went back to the room. She was propped up in bed reading a book when I entered, and she gave me a big welcoming smile. Exactly what I needed after a full day. I kicked off my shoes and threw my jacket over a chair and crawled in beside her.

Her hand reached for my neck and pulled my face in for a nice welcoming kiss. Just enough tongue to whet my appetite for a lot more. But first things first. Maribeth asked about my day and I gave her a very much abbreviated version of what Manuel and I had done. Then the conversation turned to her.

It seemed that she had made contact with Valentina, a lady she'd met last week and was staying in the hotel under similar circumstances to Maribeth. Her husband was involved in some kind of negotiation that occupied his day, and like Maribeth, Valentina had to find ways of entertaining herself. As before, the ladies had gone to Polanco and had lunch at a restaurant with an outdoor plaza, and had their nails done again. Maribeth held out her hands and toes to show me the results. The pink color was similar to what she'd gotten the last time, but they seemed shinier. Maribeth told me that it was a Mineral Fusion Top Coat that was now all the rage. I was impressed, and when Maribeth sensed this, she smiled and held her hands in front of my face for a closer inspection.

They were pretty, so I had no problem affirming Maribeth's choice of style and color and I thought she would appreciate a few "oos and aah's" on my part. I had never found stroking a woman's vanity to have a downside.

I was in the mood for an end of the day drink, and the bar on the 24th floor that went by the rather exotic name of the Epicenter Gin & Tonic Bar was a convenient option. It had an almost 360 degree view of the city and replicated the view of Chapultepec Park that we could see from our own window. We had made use of it several days in the past week and we were becoming known to the waiters.

For a change we took a table with a northeastern view of the city, so the huge Mexican flag and the Cathedral and Palace in the Zocalo were visible about a mile away. We had dined there one night and had walked across the huge square, but hadn't really visited any of the famous buildings that were located there.

Maribeth told me more about her day and her newfound friend, it turned out that they discovered a lot of common interests beyond lunches and salon visits. Valentina, like Maribeth, was an accomplished rider and I gathered that they'd talked a lot about that. One big difference though was while Maribeth was essentially a scientist, abet a soft one, Valentina's interests lay more in the world of the arts, specifically pottery and sculpture and she had achieved some level of renown in her native Venezuela. I was just happy that Maribeth had found someone to share her day with.

I had introduced Maribeth to a number of mixed drinks that she'd never tried before, the B-52 and the Mexican Mule being two recent examples, so I was keen to continue broadening her education. The Cuba Libre is a nice after work cocktail that only has three ingredients; dark rum, coca cola and a twist of lime. After Maribeth took a sip, and declared it "ummm," I figured that I was three for three.

We had just been served, when Maribeth glanced up and told me in an excited voice, "Oh, there's Valentina and her husband, I think." I turned around and saw the couple heading in our direction. We both rose and Maribeth and Valentina hugged, then introductions all around. We invited them to join us and we moved to a larger table s few feet away.

While Valentina was perhaps six or seven years younger than Maribeth, her husband, Jorge seemed to be about my age. Soon there were two separate conversations going on at once. Valentina was telling Maribeth about some absolutely wonderful store she'd run across in Polanco, while Jorge and myself were learning about our respective reasons for being in Mexico.