This is the penultimate chapter in the story of how I came to be enamored with travel and imbued with wanderlust.
I would suggest reading the first 4 parts before reading this one if you want the back story; otherwise, just dive in and let me know your thoughts.
She wore tight denim shorts. That is the memory that pervades the images in my mind as I consider our walk through the streets of Cozumel that day. I had completely forgotten where I was as I looked often at my new friend and could have cared less about the sea, the sun, or even investigating some new part of the island. Her body and how each component of it made me tingle in places and ways I never had before, was all the exploration I wanted. To this day the physical discovery of a woman is easily the most powerful curiosity I have ever experienced. No drink, drug, or thrill has ever surpassed the initial few hours of intimacy with a heavenly creature of the opposite sex.
She seemed a little annoyed that I insisted she see our shitty little dive hotel in town rather than seeking a beach. I am sure now as I think back that she realized I was not the dashing and brave young man fueled on rum and sugar that had spun her about the dance floor like Travolta in Urban Cowboy. I was indeed a neophyte lover seeking physical contact like a zombie wants brains, and just as clumsily.
As we were walking I began to notice a menacing figure lurking along the wall and then again near the shop where we grabbed a Mexi-Coke. At first I blew it off finding it odd that I would even notice or recognize a person more than once while on vacation and while wearing puberty-colored glasses. Yet, this guy, dressed in a dark printed silk shirt and black trousers with a thin pirate moustache was just creepy enough to stain my thoughts and create a nervous edge to my alternatively brilliant state of mind. As I saw him walking a few paces behind us I noticed my girl glance at him over her shoulder and even though this was indeed my “first rodeo” with a girl something about that wide-eyed peek told me all was not cool.
As we rounded the corner towards my hotel and finally without the specter of “Tony Montana” over our shoulders she looked up at me and smiled. We made our way into the hotel which I assumed she would find a complete dump compared to her modern accommodations. On the contrary she was immediately taken with all of the wondrous scuba equipment strewn across the floor. I wasted little time and began to undress a bit. With my shirt off and shorts almost down she put my mask and snorkel on me and then quickly threw off her shirt and pressed against me. At last, my first bra! I thought as I was much more adept with the snap than kids in movies I had seen.
Her breasts were much softer than I ever expected. They felt like a cross between a pillow and a warm water bottle. She put on my father’s scuba mask and in our 12X14 room we began to act as though we were under the water. We both moved about the room with swimming motions and turned our heads sharply from side to side as if we had a 360 degree view of the world. We took turns wearing my father’s BC and I remember how unbelievably sexy she was bare-breasted with that yellow and blue buoyancy control device providing intermittent support and glances to the promised-land. At that point I could no longer control the anticipation and I “swam” up behind her and using hand gestures and faux bubble sounds I intimated that I could help her with her shorts. She obliged, and let me tell you that if I was good with the bra, removing her painted-on denim shorts set fire to our willing suspensions of disbelief and our playful underwater dance came to an abrupt end.
I started trying to ask how to make it better as she began to laugh uproariously. It took me a moment to realize I was still wearing my fucking scuba mask and I sounded like a moron when I spoke. Eventually I was able to remove her shorts and there we were very nearly to the bottom of the 9th and I was Casey at Bat. I was simply beside myself at what I was seeing when the full picture came into view for the first time in my life. I was so nervous I thought I would pee my already moist drawers. The site of this bronzed-beauty was such a stark contrast with my pasty skin tone it was almost jarring.
The flowers I imagined in her hair and the look on her face I perceived to mean “come on in” was like I had been born suddenly into a new person. This was going to happen!
Just 15 or 16 hours ago I had never even kissed a girl and now here I was on the cusp of conquest, the kisses, the aromas of food I never knew existed, and the newness of circumstance muted all my senses. I wanted to be touched too I thought, just like I am touching her. I have no idea how this could be bad I justified as I was readying myself for the victory lap.
Then, and without any warning came one of the most awful sentences any human had ever spoken to me. “We’re not going all the way!” she said in a voice I did not even know she possessed. I can hear the sound of this sentence as clear now as it was nearly 25 years ago and in slow motion even “weeeee’rrrrre nooooooot gooooooiiiiiing alllllll theuuuuhh waaaaaaaaayyyyyyy”
Aaaaargh! I just gave her all I had. I just showed her all our cool and fun scuba shit! We were alone, we were in Mexico! What the hell…..why???
In that instant I heard the sounds of the donde boys from the stairs, and then I saw their faces through the shutters as they ambled along our second floor walkway. They were back, they were coming here, and my girl and I were in a compromising state of uncompromised. We were guilty and with nothing to show for it! She grabbed her clothes and ran for the bathroom. I sprinted up and locked the door just as my Dad’s hand hit the handle.
I shouted “one sec, I am changing clothes” as I threw on my shorts and shirt. I opened the door and while it was so completely obvious what we had been doing in that room, no one paid us a bit of mind. When my unrequited lover emerged from the bathroom the boys and my father practically ignored her. I just knew I was screwed even though I hadn’t because I had no knowledge of what my father and the boys had just experienced.
Somewhere on the other side of the island a man dressed in white carrying a 45 caliber handgun had come to the aid of 3 American strangers and without even knowing it, a young man from Texas was extremely grateful as well. I am certain had the boys not been shell-shocked they would have given my tease of a girl and I the third degree.
As it was she and I slipped out the door and took a cab back to her place. We sat in silence for the duration of the cab ride and as she exited I gave her a small kiss and she told me to meet her at the Scaramouche that night. I was more than a little confused as the cab driver made the turn back to town. I was not about to give up on her and at the same time the dull, blue ache in my loins would not belie the feelings to come…to be continued