Reunion Mexico City Ch 03

The 17th floor suite I had taken at the Intercontinental Presidente in Mexico City had two very special and distinctive features. The first was a unique glass walled bathroom. I had learned that there were only four of these suites, but with Maribeth along, I had become quite enamored with this innovative feature.

The second, was a huge single pane window that was about 15' wide and 4' high, and offered a fantastic view of Chapultepec Castle and the seventeen hundred acre park across the Paseo de Reforma. At night, vertical blinds that were recessed into both ends of this fantastic window could be closed using a control on the bed stand.

I awakened early, as has been my custom ever since my Army days 25 years ago. I like to be up with the dawn, and for most of my adult life, my day usually begins with a five mile run. Over the years this run has turned into more of a trot, but I keep that little item to myself.

I find the beds at the Intercontinental to be exceedingly comfortable and made even more so by the naked woman now gently breathing in sleep by my side.

My morning routine is predictable. Rub eyes, take a piss, drink a glass of water, put on running gear, run five miles, be back in forty minutes. I had completed the first three steps of this task list when I decided to check the weather. A flip of the window control engaged the mechanism that opens the blinds and when they began to part I got a shock.

Whereas yesterday morning, the blinds opened to reveal a crisp spring day with visibility to the horizon, this morning it looked like someone had snuck in during the night and spray painted the window gray. It appeared that today's visibility was essentially zero.

While I'm not adverse to exercising in suboptimal weather (I've run in both rain and snow storms) It certainly isn't something I seek out. I did however remember a certain Drill Sergeant in Ranger School that pointed out that after you got so wet, the only direction you could go was toward dry. DI's have a knack for taking complex things and making them simple.

However, those lessons were learned in a time and place that didn't have a world class gym 17 floors away. So donning my normal running gear, I headed toward the stairs. It always stuck me as odd, when people used elevators to go exercise.

There were a number of treadmills available and each faced a TV. I didn't see any English channels, but it didn't matter much to me, I wasn't there for the TV anyway. It so happened however, that as soon as I'd picked a treadmill the screen in front of me switched to a weather forecast.

My Spanish is pedestrian. I can grasp simple phrases and I'm much better at listening than speaking the language, but weather forecasts always have helpful little pictures. I was generally following the dialogue when I heard the words, "inversión de temperatura." That was close enough to English that I immediately understood what was happening outside.

Normally, in the atmosphere, the air temperature is warmest close to the ground and decreases the higher you go. A temperature inversion is an anomaly where just the opposite occurs. Warm air stacks on top of cold air. When this happens, it creates dense fog. Exactly the scene I witnessed in the room.

I've never particularly liked running indoors on treadmills. It makes me feel like one of those gerbils running in a wheel. I much prefer roads. Even when I'm running the same road every day, I notice new things that to my surprise have always been there.

After five miles I got off the treadmill and doffed my now soggy T-shirt. I decided to top off the morning with a run up those 17 floors worth of steps.That, combined with Mexico City's altitude, had sweat pouring off me like a mini Niagara by the time I was finished.

Maribeth is a sleepyhead, but not a serious one. She doesn't arise when I do, but she's always awake and usually up by the time my sweaty body hits the door.

This morning, she was not only up, but even kind of dressed. She'd put on a pair of skimpy pink panties and covered herself with a multicolored silk robe that I had bought her in Japan, but the belt was so loosely tied that she was showing plenty of delicious female skin.

Many times I've experienced her embrace when I get back from my run. And today was no exception. Maribeth has explained on numerous occasions how the aroma is like catnip to her and somewhere she even has one of my sweaty t-shirts tucked away for those times when she feels sexually aroused but I'm unavailable.

As we embraced, the movement of her body against my bare chest loosened the silk belt of her robe and it hung uselessly from the two belt loops on either side. For all practical purposes she was as naked above the waist as I was, and her upper body and arms were soon covered with my sweat. Her kisses had that early morning musk taste to them, but I've never found that objectionable. I love every flavor of Maribeth and so, perhaps I'm as addled by her as she seemed to be by me.

A two person shower is a given. The number of times we've haven't done this are outnumbered by the times we have by a factor of at least a hundred. Sometimes we succeed in using all the available hot water, but that was unlikely to happen in a five hundred room hotel. But, with a busy day ahead of us, we only tarried a little bit.

When I'm with Maribeth there is a small alteration in my morning routine. For some reason she preferred the rugged look and that meant that I wouldn't be shaving in the morning. Up until now we hadn't been together for more than three days consecutively since our surprise "reunion" two and a half years ago, so I was wondering what her opinion would be on the shaving issue later in the week.

We were running a little late, so no hanky panky before breakfast. We had taken enough opportunity in the shower to confirm the maleness and femaleness of the two occupants, that additional data was not required, at least until later.

The Atrium Cafe not only had table service, but also a breakfast buffet, which Maribeth and I found suited our taste this morning. She filled a small plate with a bunch of fruit and a cinnamon bun. I opted for a couple of crepes and a yogurt. Coffee for me, hot tea for her.

As we hurried to consume our light breakfast my eyes were drawn to the large aluminum monolith that occupied the center of the atrium. It was new, I think, since I didn't remember it being there the last time I stayed at the Intercontinental. It consisted of irregular stacked blocks that rested in an obsidian base. There was no information regarding what it represented nor any recognition of the artist. The employees referred to it as "la torre de bloques," and I agreed that it was a good description.

After breakfast, Maribeth didn't even bother accompanying me to the meeting room where two Mexican accountants, Manuel and Pepe, were waiting. I would be spending the day reviewing information about a Mexican company we were considering acquiring. Maribeth had stayed for awhile yesterday, but I could see it wasn't her cup of tea. Not exactly mine either, but there was no sense telling her that.

Before she walked to the elevator she gave me a brief kiss that I cataloged in my mind as full of promise, and then I watched her butt do that cute roll female butts do as she strode across the Atrium.

For the next six hours, Manuel, Pepe and Coffee were my only companions as we slogged our way through reams of information. Even though the accountants had already read and summarized a lot of the data, certain questions that I asked required going back to the original source documents. Several times, I took a short break while Manuel was on the phone clarifying some issue. Once, I went back to the room but Maribeth wasn't there. I wondered if she had hooked up with Valentina, a lady she met yesterday, but I knew I'd learn about her day later.

The weather seemed to be breaking. I hadn't paid a lot of attention, but occasional glances out the window seemed to show that visibility was improving, so I idly wondered if Maribeth had chosen to venture out.

The business surprises of the day's review were that the company's financial statements made reference to several "pasivos contingentes." However there was little information on what these contingent liabilities might be. It was a red flag of sorts, and would definitely have to be checked out.

The second surprise was the company apparently had a subsidiary in Bolivia that we didn't know existed. Pepe was charged with checking that out through their Bolivian agency.

At 4 pm, I called it a day. We had made a lot of progress and I had two full pages of follow up issues, but it was time to quit. I invited both men to join me for a drink at the bar and they accepted with broad grins. I made a stop on the 17th floor to check if Maribeth had returned. She hadn't, so I wrote a note explaining where she could find me.

Manuel and Pepe were already sitting at the bar where I joined them. Manuel had ordered a Margarita and Pepe was drinking tequila on the rocks. I had what Manuel was drinking and of course I had to tell them my tequila story.

They both got a laugh from my rendition of how I had participated, some years ago, in a hilarious taste test to determine what brand of tequila was the "best." Neither agreed that "Herradora," which was my pick, was the best, but I told them I wasn't doing another taste test.

We were in a jovial mood when Maribeth appeared. She was still dressed in the colorful A line she had worn this morning, and I noted the turquoise necklace I bought her two days ago was around her neck, but a similar bracelet was on her wrist that I hadn't seen before.

There were "holas" all around. Maribeth had already met Manuel and Pepe so there was no need for introductions. With Maribeth now joining, we picked up our drinks and moved to a table by the window. We could now see as far as Chapultepec Park, but the weather was still lousy.

I thought we might learn about Maribeth's adventures, but as soon as we set down she engaged Manuel and Pepe about their jobs and families. I knew a little bit about their backgrounds, but Maribeth seemed to want a lot more detail. Whether it was just the psychologist in her, or just her basic personality she asked a lot of questions. The conversation started out in English, evolved to a mix of both English and Spanish, and finally settled on Spanish by itself.

I guess I got most of the gist of the conversation, but I'm sure that I missed a lot too. Maribeth was absorbed and oblivious to me trailing far behind, when it suddenly seemed to don on her.

When it did, she gave me that soulful look she uses and said, "sorry." By then however, the guys were finishing their drinks and saying their goodbyes.

Finally alone with Maribeth I leaned over for a kiss, motioned to the waitress for a drink refill and asked her how her day went.

"You'll never believe what happened," she exclaimed while clapping her hands together. For the next hour she talked non stop except for a necessary trip to the ladies room.

Apparently one of her favorite Psych professor's from college lived in Mexico City, moving there after he retired. Maribeth said that after she left me in the Atrium, she had called Val's room but got no answer, so on a whim she decided to see if she could find this professor. She remembered that after he had relocated to Mexico that he had done some consulting work at the Instituto de Psicología María Esther Zuno de Echeverria. So she had called the University and had persuaded someone there to give her his telephone number.

He had answered immediately and, of course, he remembered Maribeth. Actually I suspected everyone remembered Maribeth from her post graduate days, since she had taken about eight years to navigate through the University's Masters and phD programs, but I chose not to mention this.

In any event, it turned out that the professor and his wife lived in an apartment in the Jardines de Pedregal District of the city and he had immediately invited Maribeth to come visit.

I recalled that the district was in the general area of the National University about three miles south of our hotel. Maribeth had the consigner call a cab, and she and the professor had ended up spending the whole day together, apparently reliving old times.

Maribeth's excitement was contagious and soon I was laughing at some of her stories. We went through two drink refills and I learned that the professor's wife was Mexican, and when he retired, they had relocated to the city partially to avoid the high cost of living in Massachusetts. I also found out we were invited to dinner with the couple later in the week.

The recap of my day was dispensed with in just a few minutes, since it was obvious that subjects such as "pasivos contingentes," held little interest to her. She did like Manuel and Pepe however.

Three margaritas were leaving me feeling pretty mellow and I suggested that I needed to get something in my stomach to soak up some of the alcohol. It was early for dinner by Mexican standards but the restaurants in the hotel were open. The Pied au Cochon was an option, but I wanted to try one of the others. We settled on the Chapulin which had a more diverse menu.

The Chapulin was upscale. Its rich rosewood paneling set a nice tone for the ambience that followed. We had gone the seafood route the previous evening, so this time we opted for chicken. The Pollo Santa Fe turned out to be perfect. We both always ate the same thing, because for some reason, early in our relationship Maribeth had asked me to order for her, and we had maintained that tradition.

We both eschewed alcohol during the meal, opting for bottled water instead, but we did cap off dinner with Irish Coffee. I mentioned that some of my Mexican acquaintances aver that the evil Irish actually stole that idea from Mexico. Maribeth just looked at me over the rim of her cup, and I could read her thoughts, which probably went something like, "wherever does he come up with this stuff."

After dinner, I gave Maribeth the option of returning to the bar, but it was obvious by her response that what I considered "consideration," she regarded as "stupidity." A few minutes later we were back in our room and I hadn't even asked her to use the stairs to walk off dinner.

It was only 8 pm. and though the sun had practically set, its reflected light off the clouds was creating an interesting scene outside. The fog had lifted, but now formed a layer perhaps five hundred feet above the ground. When the sun was high, this blocked the light and the day was dreary. However the sun's rays were now almost horizontal and it was creating interesting columns and patterns of light that I'd never seen. Maribeth and I just stood watching for perhaps fifteen minutes until the scene began to fade.

While we had been watching, I had drawn Maribeth in front of me and had encircled my arms around her with my chin resting on the top of her head. At one point I whispered, "remember Norfolk?"

I'm told it's impossible to "see" a smile with your ears, but that's a myth. I definitely heard Maribeth's smile when she whispered a long "ummmmm," thinking about that day 25 years ago when just before I promoted her to ex-virgin, we had stood, and watched a different miracle sky.

When it was clear that Nature was packing it in, Maribeth turned in my arms and lifted her face. Our lips met but touched only briefly when she pulled back to look deeply into my eyes. It was almost as if she was searching for something, but if she knew what, she wasn't telling me. Soon, I felt her fingers caress the two days of growth on my cheek and words finally came. Three words to be exact...

"I love you."

Our eyes had never broken contact when I upped her word count by one...

"I love you too."

During the long soulful kiss that followed, my mind idly thought that if this was a movie, the camera would be panning back, the music would be reaching a crescendo and the credits would be beginning to roll.

We undressed each other slowly and sensuously. The release of each button, each zipper, each clasp was celebrated with soft kisses, at least at first. As more of each of us was revealed however, the kisses became more demanding. The overwhelming fatigue that I had experienced just 24 hours ago was replaced by a virility that I thought might exist only as a memory.

When we had removed the last of our clothes we stood locked in an embrace for a long moment before I gently pushed Maribeth against the bed and she laid her head back on the pillow. As she swung her legs around, they parted enough that I could see a liquid sheen coating the delicious space between, confirming that she was as aroused as I.

Rather than snuggle beside her, I elected to sit. This left both hands free to reach and caress whatever part of Maribeth I wished. I noted that her nipples had hardened and that attracted my attention first. I inserted my thumbs under her boobs which allowed my hands to pull her breasts away from her body. Thus presented, it was easy to lean forward and suck her nipples into my mouth. First one, then the other.

When I caress Maribeth, her habit is to just close her eyes and savor the sensation, sometimes arching her neck when I've done something especially pleasurable.

Maribeth and I are now experienced lovers, able to read the small, usually non verbal, signals that each of us sends. One of hers is when she pushes against my mouth with either her breast or pussy, I know she's seeking a firmer touch. I use hardened lips on her nipples to give her what she wants.

Maribeth loves breast play, but sometimes she gets too sensitive and I know that I should leave her tits to simmer, while I seek out other interesting places. Two are within easy reach and I take a moment to debate whether I should head north to the soft flushed skin of her neck, or south to her cute navel.

The issue is resolved when I consider that once I start heading south that I'll most likely continue in that direction, so I scoot up a bit and find a spot just behind Maribeth's ear that I know is zoned "erogenous."

Since her eyes haven't opened for long minutes, I assume she's unaware of exactly where my next attack will come. When it does, I feel her body stiffen and she turns her head slightly to expose more of her tender flesh. A low moan escaped her lips and I mentally award myself an "attaboy," for my good tactical decision.

Over the time we've been together, I had assumed that I had covered every square millimeter of Maribeth's body at one time or another, but as I was kissing her neck, I noticed that her ear looked inviting, and I suddenly realized that I was looking at virgin territory. Oh, I had nibbled an earlobe now and then, but had never given her ears the undivided attention they seemed to deserve.

I used one hand to push her hair aside and after pausing just a moment, I engulfed her entire ear in my mouth. Maribeth's eyes flew open with this new and strange contact and she added a long "ohhhhhhhh" to her lovemaking vocabulary. When my tongue began to penetrate the ear cavity, I discovered that Maribeth could utter her "ohhhhh's" in different pitch as well.

I thought I was doing great with the ear thing, when I felt Maribeth twist her entire body which brought us face to face. Her hands reached up to grab me and the next thing I knew I was being passionately kissed by a very aroused Maribeth.

When I felt her hand reach around to find my very hard and now very erect penis, I suspected that Maribeth was announcing that forplay was now coming to an end. This was confirmed when she rolled onto her back and pulled me between her spread legs.

Since I had literally paid no attention to her southern hemisphere, I was clueless about the flooding taking place there. Maribeth was moaning something, but it was hard to tell if it consisted of real words.