Chapultepec Castle was not built as a fortress but as a luxury residence, later converted to a military academy, it was the "West Point" of Mexico.
On September 13,1847 during the Mexican--American War. The building, sitting atop a 200-foot hill, was an important position for the defense of the city.
That day, American forces under General Winfield Scott, assaulted and captured the citadel after a long artillery bombardment, thus clearing the way for the fall of the city itself.
I remembered the efforts of the U.S. Marines in this battle and subsequent occupation of Mexico City were memorialized by the opening lines of the "Marines' Hymn", "From the Halls of Montezuma...".
These thoughts, and many others, regarding the history of the ground I was running on came to mind as I looked at the white stone walls from the park below.
I knew that battle, 140 years ago, dramatically changed the history of both the United States and Mexico. With the fall of Mexico City, the war was effectively over, and in its aftermath the U.S. was ceded what is now the entire southwest including California and Texas.
I grew up as an army brat. My father had made the Air Force a career and we followed him all over the world as he was transferred from one station to another. Japan, England, Germany and France were stops along the way.
My own service in the Army had only taken me to Panama, Okinawa and Vietnam, but on returning to civilian life, I joined a company that a few years later, would open up most of the rest of the world for me.
Some years ago at the age of 28, I had risen to the position of Vice President of Business Development, a long title, but I was essentially charged with finding companies to acquire and integrate into my firm's global expansion plan.
I was in Mexico City as part of one such potential buy out. We had identified a Mexican company that would be a springboard into a number of markets in Latin America. Preliminary discussions had proved fruitful, but before we would be consummating any deal, I had to assure our board of directors that we knew what we were buying.
In business parlance, that's known as "due diligence." For the last two days I had been cooped up in a small meeting room in the Intercontinental Presidente hotel across the street from the beautiful park where I was finishing a three mile morning run. We were slogging through the financial statements we had been provided plus as much other public information that we could find.
Sweat was pouring from my forehead and my lungs were exploding in my chest as I gasped for air. The 7,000 foot altitude of Mexico City had affected me more than I thought it would, but at 49 years old, I shouldn't have been so naive. After I finished only three miles of my normal five mile run, I was done. As I hunched over with my hands on my knees I looked up at the citadel on the hill one last time and just shook my head.
My normal warm down trot was a rather leisurely warm down walk as I navigated myself across the six lanes of the busy Paseo de la Reforma back to the hotel.
Unlike the previous day, when Mexico City had experienced an abnormal temperature inversion resulting in day long pea soup fog, today promised to be brighter, if not yet quite clear.
As I entered the hotel, I idly wondered about how the other guests and staff regarded people like myself. I was still dripping sweat and my shirt and pants were soaked, my hair was a mess and in general, I looked like a bum. I guessed that I might not be the only one they saw every day.
There was still one more thing I had to do though before I hit the shower. My room was on the 17th floor of the hotel and my final challenge was to climb those seventeen floors of steps. My heart was still pounding from the run, so I paused a moment at the bottom. I couldn't see very far, just to the top of the first flight. But I was actually glad about that, because if I could have seen all the way to the top, I might have reconsidered the whole idea.
I decided to run a flight and then walk a flight, but by the fourth floor it changed to run a flight and walk three flights. By the time I emerged on the 17th floor, I was truly near the end of my endurance.mm
It was only a little past 7 am when I swiped the card key in the lock and I didn't know if Maribeth would still be in bed. Usually she was at least awake, but most of the time she was up and about when I returned from my morning ritual.
She was sitting at the marble desk that faced the huge picture window that dominated the room. She had opened the blinds and the morning sun was reflecting off her brownish blonde hair which she was brushing out in long strokes. I remembered that she had gone to bed the previous evening with it wet.
She glanced in my direction and smiled. "I've been watching you run in the park." She said. Then noting my condition, she asked, "Are you OK? You look a mess." I forced a smile and nodded. "Yes, the prognosis is that I'll live."
I wasted no time in doffing my soaked clothes and throwing them in a plastic laundry bag. As I walked across the room heading for the shower, Maribeth's eyes followed me. The run/walk up the stairs had rubbed my cock roughly against my pants with the result being I had achieved a semi-hard erection which was bobbing in front of me, and it was clear that this was where the lady's attention was focused.
I was just about to turn on the shower when I heard a voice from behind me. "Stop. Come here."
When I turned around, Maribeth had slid to her knees on the carpet and was in the process of slipping her robe off her shoulders. The little devil on my left shoulder was providing color commentary. "There's a naked and very aroused woman that's on her knees and wants you to come to her. She desires you, she seeks to please you, she wishes for you to give her your cock to suck."
