Chapter 5

Epilogue 2 – Day 4 – Farewell

I must have nodded off but not for long. Assuming she was asleep I wrapped my arms around her. That little fireball was so tiny and yielding in my embrace. My dick head pressed between the smooth worlds of flesh shielding deep space. The demon in my other head whispered, “now is your chance to have her, a smooth landing and you will be inside her forbidden place.”

While my mind and body debated my next move, Maria turned and sat up, “I’m wired, unable to sleep. Part of me is completely exhausted, but nervous energy will not let my body gear down. No matter what I do, I cannot find rest.”

“Let’s go for a walk and stretch our legs. It is still dark but we can catch the sunrise.” Maria got up and reached into the suitcase for the bikini and sweatshirt, while I turned on the lamp to help her find them. My first closeup of her bubble butt made me gasp - full-sized, round and perfectly complimented by the contour of her legs to her small feet. She whipped around to smack me but saw my boner and pulled her hand back, “save that for later, we should get a move on.”

With the side exit locked we had to parade past the front desk, the clerk had clear view of her public facial with dried remnants of spunk. I looked equally as guilty shuffling in dress pants, barefoot and shirtless. I pulled out a pair of shorts from the trunk as we made our way to Coronado Beach.

The sunrise lit the sky, erasing the moon, painting pink hues over the blue water. Distant surf sounded like applause, cheering us on. As we splashed through the tide, our feet acclimated to the water, warmth traveling from feet to legs. We linked hands and did not break the connection, even when saturated by a surprise wave kicking up to the shoulders. I drew in pungent smell of the ocean through my nose and tasted salt on my tongue.

There is something about the sea that soothes the soul. I knew we would have to part ways and now the day was here. It was not so bad. The sights, smells, sounds, and sensations flooding my senses were creating a lasting memory. The setting transformed into an amphitheater to display her loveliness.

Ah Maria, wonderful, mysterious, curvaceous Maria. We had been individuals on a holiday that let passion in the moment carry them away, soon to return to a familiar phase of the lives, the real world There was no could be, only a never would be. But this was the place to be now, a place to stay awhile.

“The scene reminds me of your mermaid story.” I reminisced. “Feeling her distant call, he returned to their meeting place near the water over and over, only to come up empty. Then one day she was there. Seeing her, being with her made all the difference.”

“She didn’t save him and he could not keep her in the end,” she warned.

“He never erased her from his memory, as though she was alive in his head; The point is she brought me to peace like the ocean blue. “ Maria didn’t counter my argument, in fact she didn’t say anything.

Lost in my thoughts I must have lingered too long. When the sun rose to feature the surf and beach, I knew immediately we were in trouble. Brown water in the shallows signaled a rip tide. Maria had been pulled away, trying hard to swim to shore only to be drawn out again. Running at full speed, I closed the gap quickly. “Relax, I’ll get you out,” I reassured. My first move was to pull her on my shoulders. Planting both feet firmly I carried her piggyback style while marching parallel to the coastline.

With the seawater buoying her mass, it was easy to carry her in the beginning. I felt like Poseidon the Greek titan of the sea. However, I was all too human and began to struggle, each step becoming more difficult. Maria cheered me on when I waivered and tried to steady my gait. After dragging her half the length of a football field, the rip current gave way and the water became clear blue.

I collapsed on wet sand, exhausted from lifesaving. Maria lay down beside me, her legs now wrapped around the front of my torso. This should have been the ideal place for a congratulatory kiss. Somehow when Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr entangled under the pounding surf in ‘From Here to Eternity’, no one mentioned the saltwater splashing up your nose and the soggy sand pasting your hair. Nevertheless, she held on tight as we sustained the coupling, a long-lived, satisfying experience.

Maria had been guarded in some ways, her vagina a fortress against any breach by an interloper. The admonition against any penetration, fingers or otherwise. Then there was the secret territory ceded to me, the outside of her ass was mine for the taking.

Kissing was one of the most intimate acts and I was surprised how she threw her whole essence into locking lips. Holding her close, wrapping her love around my twisted soul when we kissed was ‘priceless.’

We stood to catch our breath. Watching her dip her hair in the water and toss it back like a Baywatch babe made it all worthwhile. My eyes clicked off a three second video committed to memory, in slow motion. Bo Derek in ‘10’, the single most famous scene in movie history. Maria was not quite a ten, but I felt like Dudley Moore, losing myself while captivated by a fantasy of what could be and would never work out. I was a fool, believing that vision, not enjoying the priceless reality of the moment.

Eight clanging beats snapped me out of my daydream, signaling it was time to move. This was going to be the best day of my life. “I have a surprise for you on our last day.”

“You haven’t let me astray so far, let’s do it,” Maria was always cheerful.

Anxious for the surprise, Maria began to sprint along a hardened beach strand toward the hotel, and I joined her to guard against being overtaken by a wave. We ran all the way up the white sand path to the outdoor patio chairs that shielded her the night before. Maria laughed off that her wet sweatshirt formed a perfect statue cast of Venus. My arms encircled her to prevent ‘indiscretion.’ Hands holding her face I moved in to replace her smile with a tender kiss. She did not rush as we expressed affection.

Her gurgling stomach announced Maria was hungry. We reversed our trail to her room, the same clerk fixated on her boobs, until we were safely inside her room. I picked up the phone and ordered a full breakfast for two. Sitting up to eat, a food fight broke out as pieces of toast and bacon flew at each other. I was careful to re-claim the bacon, no sense squandering the delicacy.

Afterward Maria disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower. While she was cleaning herself up there was a knock on the door and I let Eva in. Eva unabashedly wore a see-through nighty and her hair was in disarray. “Don’t ask,” she offered while claiming the borrowed party dress and shoes.

A questioning look by Eva at the scattered dishes and clothes arrayed on the floor drew a “don’t ask.”

She turned the unlocked bathroom knob and pushed, only to be met by steam pouring into the room. “Tell her I was here and won’t be going home. Call me if she wants to talk,” the last I saw of Eva.

I stepped inside the foggy bathroom when I heard the water turn off. Maria glided in front of the mirror, with one towel wrapped around her body and another cradling her wet hair. As she unraveled the terry cloth cover to shake out her curly locks, I pulled the other towel off leaving her naked. Maria did not flinch and continued to work on her hair.

When I bent her over the counter, she stuck out her rear, presenting herself to me. I started with my hands gently rubbing her breasts, circling the tips. I could still clearly see the bite marks above the areolae. Her hair was blocking access to her neck so my kisses started at mid back, paused to travel to the next vertebrae below, one by one, until reaching the slick trail to the lip of the caldera shaped hole. I caught a whiff of lavender soap around the area.

Maria voiced over her shoulder “I thoroughly washed there for you, take it easy at the beginning. I’m not used to stimulation there. Remember, NO penetration!” Somehow Maria had marked out my territory, thinking this may be a fetish of mine. I would have preferred going down on her velvety shaved pussy but she had already held up a stop sign like a Crossing Guard.

Kneeling on my knees, I grasped her legs just below the cheeks, parted them, and stepped into the shallow end. Starting off slowly, my face worked around the money spot instead of going in for the kill. My tongue made tentative stabs, at first tracing the wrinkled entrance to her rosebud. Other than a faint coffee tang no bitter taste assailed my palate.

Light licks and kisses on her inner thighs and perineum primed her for action. Maria halted grooming her hair, grasping the counter with both hands. I had her full attention. Putting out my tongue like catching rain, juice dripped honey from her pussy into my hungry mouth. I couldn’t dive into her quim, but puffs of air there drew a chorus of sighs.

Temporarily standing up, my left hand covered hers drawing both down to her sex. Under my direction her outstretched fingers encircled against prominent labia. Allowing me to pull back the hood, her ring and long fingers converged on her sensitive nubbin while the palm spread her protruding netherlips, rotating while applying pressure and expanding the circle. Only her right elbow against the countertop supported her weight.

“Speak to me,” I commanded.

“Oh God, this is wicked, so dirty, and so ... wonderful. Come on, show me what you got. If you wanted to eat me, this is better than bacon, who’s in ‘hog heaven’ now?”

With two theaters of action, I returned to rimming, moving up and down and side to side in variable speeds while stiffening and relaxing. Encouraged by echoes of pleasure, my tongue fashioned a spear guided toward her ring, using enough pressure to gently penetrate.

Her enjoyment became mine with Maria’s whimpering a heart-rending song to my ears. By now I had to support her weight with both hands by grasping the thighs. Unable to keep her legs from shaking Maria sat on my face and grinded away. I could scarcely breath and the position was straining my neck but I refused to give up.

“I’m coming, coming, almost there, now!” Uncontrolled bucking forced me to let go as I tumbled down and she parked her caboose on the floor. All she could say is, “payback is a bitch, isn’t it?”

I got up to Shampoo my beard at the sink, brush my teeth twice and use up all the hotel mouthwash. Maria pushed me out to finish her hair and make-up. With her minimal use of cosmetics, I hadn’t noticed any face paint before except for eyeliner and eyeshadow. I knew she wanted to look her best.

Packing and checking out was uneventful. Her room had been comped and I had paid for room service with my company card. We loaded up and said goodbye to the Hotel Del Coronado. Maria called it ‘Hotel California.’ The place was grand enough to earn that title.

“I want to see the surprise, please?” she could not conceal her anticipation.

Her pleading grin made me cough up the secret, “We’re headed to San Antonio.”

“What did you say?” she broke in.

“Let me finish. San Antonio Del Mar, a private oasis 30 minutes south of Tijuana,” I clarified. “Make sure you have your Passport out to cross the border. I already have mine handy.”

We passed right through Tijuana the tourist town, dodging men in the road hawking their goods. We stopped once where I bought a Sombrero for me, and more refined straw hat with colorful band for her. She picked up two wigs, one with straight cropped pink hair and one with long radiant silver strands. Pink sun blocking Oakley’s too. I drove while she explored the different looks. Her curls twirled into a spiral and pinned up on her head, Maria tried on the hairpieces under the sunhat, rosy partially tinted sunglasses completed the look.

The coastline of Baja California was raw and uninhibited, undisturbed by the stains of settlement. As we drove down highway the Maria was very quiet. She absorbed our surroundings as the landscape passed by. She seemed to enjoy my company very much and was not familiar to the freedom of the open road. Head forward to watch for the defects in the payment, I asked the burning questions,” Why didn’t you leave on time? What make you stay over?”

“I had no choice, really, Eva made the decision for me. As I approached the gate, she snatched me away by the arm. Eva said she used herself as an excuse, clearing it with the family,” she responded.

“But you still had your ticket, right? You could have boarded the plane and been gone.”

“I will say that I wanted to spend another day here, the weather is so perfect,” Maria admitted. “And yes, I wished for more time with you, I am having fun”

“I forgot, Eva said to tell you she is not coming back,” I remembered.

“When did you talk to her?” Maria’s voice lowered an octave when she was distressed.

“She picked up the borrowed gown and shoes, tried to get in to see you but decided not to let the steam from the shower ruin her hair.”

“That would be Eva, putting her needs first,” Maria mused, “I’m glad she goaded me into staying.”

When we reached the outskirts of San Antonio Del Mar, I pulled into the parking lot of the Showtime Café. Against the backdrop of concert posters, we had our own little photo op as she took on the appearance of a fashion model. Eyes partially masked by the shades, her distinctive smile drew the camera lens to luscious ruby red lips. I was especially drawn to the straight white-silvery extensions.

Maria shed these disguises to flaunt the natural deep brown waves of curls cascading down her left shoulder. Her fingers patiently combed through dry conditioner-mousse, using a pic to separate individual strands.

Sauntering through old town, the cobble stones made a clacking sound under our feet. She bought a white peasant blouse with puffy short sleeves from a local women’s coop. The appearance transported her into la señora, a classic 18^th century lady of standing. Here in Mexico Maria was a high-born lady

Her top was a tight fit, braless big naturals filling out the bodice nicely. Full breasts stood high and tight, pushing against the material like trying to break through the surface of water. Wide round circles, two shades lighter than her skin were faintly visible, but stiff extended nipples rose to mark a well-defined peak. Standing behind her I pushed her ‘bare-naked ladies’ up to create mountains of cleavage, while stroking her teats to attention through the gauze.

We stood at attention when two local ladies suddenly entered the square and took her by the hand into a seamstress’ cottage. You could see through the window hands busy measuring and altering a garment. Maria came out wearing a red ruffled pleated shirt that flared when she twirled. Her legs were almost covered to the ankles. A six- inch embroidered band with large white flowers crossed the bottom hem. A gaggle of your girls then ascended on Maria, laughing, and touching her costume. Maria joined their chatter in Spanish. They hugged her and the only words I could make out were “la gusta es Mia,” or ‘my pleasure,’ from the proprietress.

Returning to my automobile I dressed up in my formal attire from the previous night to complement my partner. When I returned a group of Expatriate Americans and local Mexicans had gathered in the square. A boyish youth dressed in a tux, and adolescent girl in a bridal dress had joined the throng.

“We’re just in time for a wedding. There is no Catholic Church here but a small outdoor Chapel has been setup overlooking the ocean view. They asked if you and I could stand up as witnesses. Can we, may we?” Maria petitioned.

When I gave my assent, all began hiking off and street and on to an unmarked path over the terrain facing west. The groom held up the bride’s simple train and ladies had to lift their skirts above the dirt. I tried not to scuff my shoes. When we arrived at a clearing, there was a Priest awaiting us with an older surfer dude in Hawaiian shirt, plain board shorts and Adidas Slides. He whispered in my ear in a strong Australian accent, “I’m Archie, who you may call the local mayor mate, and we need your signatures in the book to make it official. I’m sorry but I need ID, print your name and sign. Her too.”

I did as he asked and handed the book to Maria. When I explained what we had to do, she hesitated, then shook her assent and did her part. Archie added what appeared to be an official seal, then briefly held the book. I couldn’t help myself, peering over to see what she had inscribed. In immaculate printing I could read her name upside down, M i r a b e l a, Maria was really Mirabel.

The ceremony was brief but beautiful, a cool breeze keeping all from sweating too much. Everyone applauded after the couple’s first marital kiss. Maria squeezed my right hand, pulling my head down to her level with the left and pressed her warm, cherry lips to mine. Surroundings faded away to a dim background. Archie tapped us on the shoulder, how long had we been absorbed in the embrace?

We caught up with the newlyweds to pose for pictures. Somewhere there are copies of Mirabel and I together with genuine smiles. Using a cheap polaroid, Archie snapped a few of the wedding party, lovely Maria, or should I say Mirabel and we two. Film backing was stripped off and there we were.

She ran her eyes over each picture before handing to me one by one, “here, you better keep them.”

The crowd dispersed and left us with Archie on the cobbled Pequeña Calle. “You haven’t seen how the locals live, come join me, meet my partner Lisa” In Mexico we become two different people up for adventure. Maria had never been to Baja but had trekked many times to Mexican towns near her.

We followed him into a gated community with several hundred almost identical Spanish style homes. Cobblestone roads gave the place a rustic look although large spread haciendas dotted the hills. “You can’t even see this pueblo from the highway,” I commented, “who lives here?”

Walking beside us Archie explained. “San Antonio Del Mar is one of Baja California’s oldest towns, converted into a private Fraccionamiento. A combination of Mexicans, Americans, and vacationers call it paradise. We have everything we need within, even an OXXO,” he paused to look at our blank faces, “OXXO is a large chain of convenience store owned by the company that bottles Coca Cola in Mexico. I would say it’s more like a PX military base exchange than a 7-11.”

Walking up an incline we headed for an adobe house on a mesa. Opening a solid wooden door he was greeted with, “Arch, I’m glad you are home. Who are your friends?” the voice came from a tall slender blond in a casual summer dress.

“Mirabel and Martin, meet Lisa,” he introduced us as she rushed to the entryway to hug each of us.

“I was just about to take a dip in the spa, would you like to join us?” Lisa called over shoulder as she stepped out the dress and glided nude onto the rear patio.

“The view is marvelous,” I said not just referring to her svelte figure and gently round bottom, “but I’m afraid we left our swimsuits in the car.”

“Nonsense,” she replied turning to display her all over tan, “the veranda is quite private, come on don’t be shy we won’t bite.” I thought I heard an extra, ‘much’ murmured under her breath.