Chapter 4

I observed her again in the afternoon as we snorkeled. The second viewing excited me as much as the first, particularly watching the water wash around her pubic hair. We had a drink at the cabana bar and then went upstairs to dress for dinner. She took her shampoo into the shower and, after a minute, looked out "Want to join me?"

"Oh, yes!" The shower was tiled and provided ample room for two people to move around easily. I suppose it was built that way on purpose, considering the nature of the resort.

I washed her hair giving her a complete scalp massage in so doing. She did the same for me and left me feeling nicely relaxed. What more is to say about the absolute pleasure of feeling a warm soapy naked woman giving and taking slippery strokes as the water splatters on the tiles? I'd do it every day, given the chance. It didn't take long before our quest for cleanliness gave way to burgeoning prurience. She brought me to attention and moved her slippery butt into position as she leaned on the railing offering it to me. I used her breasts to anchor my hands and heard her welcoming moan as I thrust inside her from behind. By bending my knees and then rising, I could thrust deeply within her and she responded happily to the action, feeling her slippery butt against my belly. Our passionate sexual encounter became the icing on the cake of desire. She came first, wiggling her butt in a kind of frenzy and then I had my own need fulfilled as I pushed deep inside to be quickly drained.

She was chuckling as she dried herself, "I'm glad you didn't stop and run for a condom this time." Then she reflected in mock seriousness, "You know, somehow I just don't get that same feeling of, uh, 'cleanliness' when I shower alone."

I kissed her affectionately, "I know the feeling well. We should cleanse each other often."

We 'dressed' for dinner and happily sought the dining room. They served us a different beautiful fish stuffed with crabmeat, nicely steamed vegetables, and a delicious salad. The waiter assured us that they had washed the lettuce in iodine and followed necessary sanitary precautions for all raw food. He must have told us the truth because neither of us suffered any alimentary distress. One can win local battles against Montezuma, but never the larger war.

We tried dancing, but I couldn't manage to avoid a partial erection. Pat giggled at me constantly and I finally took her home to bed. When she snuggled her back up to me, as we got comfortable for the night, she whispered, "Don't roll away from me tonight. It is OK if I feel you. I like it. When it gets nice and ready, I may find a place to park it after while."

She turned her face over to me to be kissed. Then, she said, "Thank you for bringing me. To think that I might have missed out on all this."

"You are welcome." I caressed her body and let my hand rest on her breast. "God, to think that I, too, might have missed out on all this."

After another scrumptious breakfast, accompanied by a fruit plate comprising watermelon, Honeydew, Cantaloupe, and mango, we went up to pack for our journey into the interior.

Route 307 goes south from the Eden Resort to the ruins at Tulum, and then intersects the road that goes north toward Cobá, the site of our first pyramids to visit. We checked into our hotel and had a late Mexican lunch that ended about 3. Too late for exploration that day, so we decided to lounge around the pool.

I admired her body as she put on her new bikini. "I liked the outfit that you wore at Eden better than the new one. Can't see all of the butterfly."

"Thank you. I liked that one, too. Got me lots of attention."

We read around the pool and did absolutely nothing until it was time to go inside to start getting dressed for dinner. As we walked by the recreation room, we saw a large screen TV that was showing CNN with the same news reports about Afghanistan, Israel, and Iraq that had been playing for the last two years. Nothing good had happened since we left home.

We started early the next morning to avoid the large tour busses that daily belched hordes of tourists by about 9:30. When we went into the ruins, we had a big decision to make. We could walk several kilometers around the complex of sites, or we could rent bicycles, or, we could hire a 'driver, ' who would escort us. He offered a three-wheel bicycle with two seats mounted on the handlebars and a comfortable place for our feet to rest. That decision was easy.

As the driver pedaled us down the jungle road that had been initially carved out by the Maya, Pat squeezed my hand and giggled, "Nothing but first class with you, Blevin!"

"I do miss the Champagne, though. You know, when we were on that nice flight, isolated in space, I discovered that I liked you a lot and wanted to see more of you."

She laughed, "You'd already seen all that I had. I was disappointed when you didn't ask me out. The night we went to together to all the receptions, I felt that I was being not only escorted, but courted. You made a special point of picking important people and introducing me."

"I was trying my best to act right. Many of my colleagues commented on my superb choice of a date—beautiful and charming." With that, the guide began his spiel about the history of the ancient city and a discussion of the nature of the people. I was thankful that Pat could quickly translate the parts of his talk that I didn't understand. My experience was similar to talking to someone on a cell phone when part of the conversation drops out, but they kept on talking. I couldn't get the whole story without Pat's willing translation.

"Thanks for keeping me in the picture. I understand just enough to get it wrong!"

She had the seemingly natural ability, learned at home and charm school, I suppose, to make it clear that she was happy to be with me. Like, I was the only man on earth at that moment. She replied, as she took my hand in both of hers, "It is my pleasure to keep you well informed about what is going on around you."

The guide continued his explanations about the stadium and the ball courts where the competition was rather keen in those days. The Mayans learned how to make bouncing balls from rubber trees and rigged something similar to a basketball goal on the side of the bleachers. The players had to get the ball through the stone hoop by using their hips, not their arms. Other dramatic rules governed play. The losers had their hearts cut out as a sacrifice to the gods. I guess the practice created lots of openings on the teams for new players. That added a new and grotesque meaning to the term, "player draft."

As we drove north toward our next destination, Pisté, we noticed along the road that many of the scrub trees had glass and plastic bottles impaled on the limbs. For several miles, we kept speculating about the purpose of the bottles, since it took a fair amount of labor to cover a tree with them. It is amazing how much idle speculation comes about when one is purely ignorant. I often used an old Mark Twain quote in my classes: "Ignorance isn't so much not knowing anything; it is knowing for sure so many things that ain't true."

Pat speculated that the bottles were there to catch bees. We laughed at the number of ideas we came up with that were absolutely absurd. It was on this leg of the trip that I noticed her putting her hand on the back of the seat and touching my neck and hair lightly with her fingers. I felt the fingertip affection most happily. "That feels nice on my neck."

She smiled, "I just wanted to touch you. May I ask you something about work?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"What happens in the promotion and tenure process?"

"First you prepare three folders; one for research, one for teaching, and one for service. The tenured colleagues in our department review these. Then, the file goes to the college level and the college committee reviews it along with the other candidates. If you pass the college, the package goes to the university committee, where it is finally reviewed. That committee sends recommendations to the President, which he usually follows."

"Does everybody vote?"

"Tenured faculty vote. Anyone can provide input."

"Are the votes simple majority?"

"Technically, yes. Unfortunately, as a practical matter, practice has it that usually if 25% of the folks vote against you, you won't be approved at the next level."

"Is the whole process fair?"

"I don't know who developed the false concept of 'fair, ' but the person who did should be executed. The only fair deal in the world is the toss of unloaded dice. No, it is both procedural and political."

She gasped, "My God, that is an uphill battle."

"It is intended to be. For the most part, it is predictable and people do meet the standards every year."

"I'm like way out on a limb here. What happens if I don't make it?"

"You get counseling and guidance for the next round."

"I almost wish I hadn't asked. Now, I will be anxious." She paused, and asked, "Will I make it?"

"Yes, I think so. As beautiful as you are, I wouldn't have agreed to mentor you if I thought otherwise."

She sat silently for ten or fifteen kilometers. Then, she took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders, "I'm worried, but I might as well enjoy the vacation. Not a damn thing I can do about it down here."

After an hour or so on the nearly empty road, we intersected the main free route from Mérida to Cancun, where the truck traffic picked up considerably. So much for the pleasant ride. We reached the picturesque town of Valladolid after a half-hour and decided to have lunch on the square. When I parked on the street by the square, she exclaimed happily, "Wow, this is wonderful. I haven't been to a town square in years."

We walked around the square and noticed the opposite facing "kissing" chairs, the ones in which a man and woman can have a face-to-face conversation, yet be separated by the concrete form of the chairs. We sat for a few minutes to admire the sprit of the place. Soon, a nice looking young boy offered her a shoeshine. She asked him if he could just clean the dust off her hiking boots and put dressing, not polish, on them. "Si, señorita."

That brought a chuckle from her. I said, "He doesn't know that you are a grown up lady. He's just going on appearances."

She smiled at my explanation. Just then, another boy started working on my shoes for the same purpose. He took the laces out and cleaned them, then cleaned each shoe perfectly and put the laces back in. We were entertained by her conversation with him about school and other things going on in his life. He seemed quite happy that she could talk to him in Spanish.

After a delicious lunch, we began our short journey to the hotel at Pisté, near the large ruins at Chichen-itza. We checked into the hotel and unpacked, in bad need of a shower to wash off the dust from the morning ruins at Cobá. She started running the water and then put her head out of the door, "Well... ?"

We had another thrilling shower together, although the bathtub shower was much more crowded for two full-grown people. We managed to get clean and get 'cleansed' at the same time. I never wanted to shower alone again. We stretched out for a while and snoozed. As we were kissing and stroking on the bed, the phone rang.

"Hello. Yes this is Blevin. Hi Diana. Dinner? Let me check."

"Pat, it is Richard and Diana wanting to know if we could have dinner together. Want to? It is fine with me."

"Let's do it. See if we can meet them at 8:30. I don't want to rush."

"Diana, how's 8:30 in the hotel restaurant?" I paused for her response. "Yes, unfortunately, we will wear clothes, too. I liked the way we dressed for dinner at the Eden."

I lay back on the bed. "Pat, during dinner they will ask us if we want to swing with them."

"What makes you think that?"

"Just intuition and subtle cues I picked up last time. What are your thoughts about that?"

"God, whatever goes around comes around. I haven't done that since I was married to Bart. I have this anxious feeling of excitement. How do you feel?"

"Uncertain, but I'm open to negotiations. I know he wants you something fierce."

"Well, Blevin, you and I are neither married nor engaged, so we wouldn't violate a covenant. We came here for fun. Let's see if you're right."

We enjoyed a long and pleasant dinner with Richard and Diana. Each of us talked one-on-one with the others. Some of the time, there was a group topic that held our interest. In all, the evening meal and conversation left us with those pleasant and comfortable feelings when one has experienced good fellowship.

Toward the end of the meal, Diana looked at us both, then, "Pat and Blevin, we're all going back to Akumal. We have a condo there for three days. Why don't you plan to have dinner with us on Thursday night?"

Pat smiled, "Oh, that would be super, Diana. I think we would love to. How will we get together?"

"I will give you directions in the morning. Maybe we should go to the ruins together?"

"We were going to walk over about 8:30 or so to avoid the heat and the tour busses. We should have a good two hours before it gets crowded."

Richard offered, "OK, breakfast at 7:30, then?"

We once again bade them farewell and moseyed through the garden to our room. When we were inside, Pat asked, 'OK, super sleuth, when do we get the proposition?"

"I thought it would be tonight. Maybe it won't be until we have dinner with them. Richard told me in the men's room that they were given a two-couple arrangement in the condo with two master bathrooms and bedrooms."

She laughed, "My, we're going first class. This should be fun! If you're wrong, I guess you'll have to sleep with me. I can't lose!"

We met Richard and Diana for breakfast and continued our conversation, but this time, it was directed more toward the history of the Maya and how they lived. We were all excited about seeing the pyramids at Chichen-itza. We decided to go with a tour guide this time since there was so much to know and so little time.

We were made quite uncomfortable by the guide's description of human sacrifices. In particular, we saw the hollow place carved out in the stone that was for the hearts of the victims to be placed for the blood to drain. They also threw young women off the top of pyramids or made them jump into the deep pool. And to think, they were being honored by the sacrifice! The practice resembled the modern practice in the Arab world of recruiting suicide bombers to appease the gods.

We climbed to the top of the pyramids on the narrow steps and had a glorious view of the kingdom. On the way down, Pat was the only person not feeling the need to hold onto the rope for balance. My feet were too large for the stairs.

We returned from the dusty ruins in time for a shower, and then met our companions for lunch. After the meal, they gave us good directions with some landmarks and we felt like we could find their condo in Akumal.

As we drove back to the hotel in Akumal, I asked her, "Why do you suppose that all of these religions require sacrificial virgins?"

She smiled wryly, "Sacrifices, yes, but they did not all lead the lives of vestal virgins."

"I have always been curious about how humans come to invent religions and elaborate superstitions. It seems to me that humans always invent gods in their own images."

"Yeah. Sacrifices. Promise of heaven and threat of hell. Shamans and priests fudging the truth to maintain their power. Causing people to pray for the sunrise, and then shouting 'Hooray, our prayers are answered'."

"Yeah. Those televangelists who have the absolute truth every Sunday scare the hell out of me."

She asked, "Me, too. Can we stop in Valladolid for a rest break?"

"Sounds like a good idea. We also need our shoes cleaned after this morning!"

We arrived at our hotel in Akumal with just enough time to walk on the beach, supervise the changing of the tides, rest a while, and get dressed for dinner. As we were preparing to go, I said, "Better bring your toothbrush and leave it in the car, just in case we get lost and have to stay overnight."

"Are we really going to do this, Blevin?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"I feel strangely drawn to the possibility and a little anxious, too. Takes me back to some bad times."

"When the topic comes up, why don't you give them the answer, based on how you're feeling at the time? Don't do it if you don't want to."

"What about you? Do you want to? I mean, does Diana get you up?"

"She did while we were dancing. I'm always interested in a new thrill. If it can be comfortable for everyone, I would willingly participate, but I'm not going to pout if we don't."

Their condo was on the top floor of the building with a glorious view of the bay and the village across the water. Just as they described it, we saw two large bedrooms opening off opposite sides of the kitchen-family room combination, obviously built for two couples to share.

Richard brought Pat her requested Margarita, poured at the table in a salt-rimmed glass. It was a real cocktail, not one of those dreadful blended frozen slurpees served mostly in the states. Diana had made some nice Pu Pus with shrimp, pineapple, and grapes on small skewers.

Pat smiled at them, "Hey, you guys, this is super. Great view, good company, creative appetizers. Couldn't be better!"

Richard had broiled some lovely large fish on the veranda and Diana had outdone herself with the salad and vegetables. We shared feeling of good fellowship and appreciated the food and crisp Pinot Grigio. Pat helped Diana remove the used plates and glasses and get them loaded. I could see them talking as I looked over Richard's shoulder.

Richard and I were continuing our touristy conversation about the benefits of being down here in the quiet rather than on the noisy and crowded luxury hotel strip in Cancun. I saw Pat smile and then she looked over Diana's shoulder and nodded her head "yes" to me. When they returned to the table, Pat said, "Diana and I just came up with an interesting idea."