First Fuck In Cancun

Loyal readers of this series (and thank you), I could write pages and pages and pages (and pages) explaining how I got to this exact spot, right now.

Current sitch:

I'm standing at the end of an elevated deck, in an abso-fucking-lutely beautiful paradise near Cancun. The deck stretches out over the gorgeous azure-blue Caribbean waters. I'm watching Kate stroll up about a 400 yard walkway from the shore, a chauffeur is beside her with her luggage in tow.

Want to know more?... want to know why??... without reading the (already written) seventeen-plus pages of background???

Here's a quick summary:

One: A gigantic business deal will make my company millions. No, really... *millions*. And *I*, Randy, landed the fish.

Two: The principal client of that deal -- a man named Nagashi who I now consider a dear friend -- loaned me the use of his luxurious and private retreat in Cancun as a "thank you."

Three: My boss, Bill -- grateful for the multi-million-dollar deal -- paid for a private jet to bring me here and take me back.

Four: Kate, my drop-dead gorgeous next-door neighbor and (maybe-still, maybe-not) former Fuck Buddy, has a medical conference in Cancun, very near Nagashi's private retreat, which ended about an hour ago.

Five: Kate is spending a few days here with me. We'll fly home together on another private jet on Sunday.

Six: My cock has been rock-solid erect for four fucking days, anticipating Kate's arrival.

You're up to speed. Read on...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The long walkway Kate is traversing will end at an over-the-water bungalow at a place called Rosewood Mayakoba.

It's where I'm waiting. I've been here since Monday. And it's an incredible destination:

Floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, that all open to the ocean. Open-air dining. Open-air sleeping, if you want. Luxury indoor and outdoor showers.

For all the openness, there's an astonishing amount of seclusion. The bungalows around this one are not visible; it's a remarkable job of design and alignment.

Kate and I will feel virtually alone in this amazing paradise.

There's a private infinity pool at the edge of the deck/patio. Or you can dive directly off the deck into the nearly body-temperature Caribbean waters.

There are two jet-skis. There's a pair of stand-up paddle boards. And if there's something you want that's not here, they'll bring it to you.

The amenities include full-fucking everything.

Concierge gourmet food whenever we want it. A private chauffeur. Daily five-star service of the house, of the bedrooms and the bathrooms and the kitchen. 24-hour armed security, because the Yucatan area of Mexico is a little bit scary right now.

And while it's not specifically stated, from several days of personal observation, it seems to all be clothing-optional.

I could very quickly get spoiled rotten with this level of life.

If Jeff-Fucking-Bezos and his trophy-whatever girlfriend come floating by on his bazillion-dollar yacht, I wouldn't be surprised.

Speaking of trophy-whatever women, Kate is an absolute vision today as she continues to stride up the walkway.

She's wearing white, flowing slacks that billow in the breeze but somehow still capture her amazing ass. The breeze blows the front of her slacks tight against her groin. My cock jumps a little knowing what that region of her body looks like when Kate's naked.

Her coral top actually looks a little like a one-piece swimsuit; it must be some sort of body suit.

Thin spaghetti straps arch front to back across Kate's now-tanned shoulders. The bodice runs almost square across her chest, but her gorgeous boobs push hard against the fabric.

Cute leather sandals match the top. She's wearing sunglasses and a white floppy sun hat.

I've been in a swimsuit (if that) and little else since arriving on Monday. I dressed up a little for Kate's arrival; I'm wearing beige cotton beach-comber pants and a loose-fitting safari shirt. I bought some huarache sandals at the local market on the way from the airport.

I'm about four shades darker from the tanning Caribbean sun since Monday.

As Kate and the chauffeur make their way up the boardwalk, Kate's chatting with him. I hear her delightful laugh ripple across the beautiful water. She looks from the chauffeur to me and gives me a happy little wave, which I return.

And then, before much longer, she is in my arms. Kate wraps me in a big hug, followed by a soft warm kiss.

"My god, Randy," Kate purrs in a sexy voluptuous voice, "this is absolutely GORGEOUS!!"

"Wait until you see the inside," I reply.

"Raoul, lead the way."

The chauffeur steps around us and heads to the front door of the cabana, Kate's luggage in both hands.

"You know Raoul?" Kate quizzes, a little perplexed, as we pivot to follow him

"He picked me up at the airport," I reply, my arm comfortably gripping Kate's firm waist as we walk. "He's also on call to take us anywhere we want to go."

"Like I'll ever want to leave," Kate responds quietly, resting her head for a second on my shoulder.

Raoul is inside the house when Kate steps over the threshold. I allow her to enter first, gentleman that I am.

From the sound I hear, I wish I was in Raoul's place; I wish I could see Kate's face. But I get my reaction soon enough.

"OH!!! OH!!!," Kate exclaims. OH MY GOD!!!! RAN-DEEEEEE!!!!!"

And this incredibly gorgeous woman whirls around and wraps me in a full-body hug. Her legs leave the ground, and I have to grasp and twirl and hold onto whatever part of her I can, just to keep my balance.

Raoul has seen it many times before. Hell, he saw something similar -- without the hugs and all -- from me on Monday. And he smiles quietly as he sets Kate's luggage down in the foyer.

He knows this is gonna take a minute.

As much as I love to write descriptively, I'm at a loss to fully describe this place.

It's almost like a giant tent, with a flat, solid roof. The open sides -- on every side -- are glass... looking out into the paradise that is the Yucatan Peninsula. The glass can be open or closed... you choose, according to the weather and whatever you want to do in whatever space you're in.

The only private areas are bathrooms. Every bedroom has its own. And there's some sort of kitchen space that I haven't been in much since I've been here... because I haven't had to.

And the finish level... flooring, ceilings, walls, trim, accessories... is a phenomenal combination of over-the-top-level richness, and absolute earthiness.

I've never been in a place this opulent... where I've felt this comfortable... this much at home.

Kate feels it too. Like, instantly.

It's that kind of place.

Kate detaches from her embrace with me and kisses me briskly on the cheek. Then she turns to the chauffeur with a question:

"Raoul, do all of the guest rooms face the water?" Kate asks.

My Head Voice pipes up: [Wait... what?? Guest rooms?]

Raoul answers quickly: "Si, Señorita."

Kate replies: "Do you have a favorite guest room here?"

Raoul looks quickly at me. I smile and nod. Kate has a reason for her request.

"Si, Señorita," Raouls replies quickly. "I do."

"Put my things in your favorite room, then," Kate instructs.

"Not Señor Randy's room, por favor.

"Gracias!"

Raoul turns to follow his instructions. Kate turns to me and links her arm into mine as we walk into the main room of the house.

"Plausible deniability?" I whisper quietly to Kate.

"Precisely," she whispers back with a sly smile. She pats my back pocket that holds my cell phone. "You know -- don't you -- how excited I am to be here... with you."

It's a statement and not a question.

"Now..." she purrs, "show me your favorite part of this place.

"Other than your bedroom..."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Readers, a little background, if you're not familiar with this series.

Kate is my drop-dead gorgeous next-door neighbor back home. She's a doctor. And she's sexy as hell.

Kate and I have a unique, months-long, Fuck Buddy relationship. And, no lie... it was her idea!!

Every Monday morning Kate invites me into her bed and we experiment with a position, an activity, or some sort of sex act that Kate has previously never tried.

It's been a very exciting couple of months.

And then it had to end. Kate found a professional colleague with whom she wanted to explore a relationship... and probably a physical relationship. She felt -- and I agreed -- that she wanted to be exclusive with him, at least initially.

Right as my deal with Mr. Nagashi was finalizing, Kate realized that her new potential paramour wasn't a good choice. He has a wife -- and another girlfriend -- and both are pregnant with his babies. Kate dropped him in a hot minute.

Not long after that, the possibility of meeting me after her conference here in Cancun comes to fruition. I invite, and Kate agrees.

Our Fuck Buddy relationship, by design, was very clandestine. I didn't have Kate's cell number; she didn't have mine. You can read elsewhere about the signal she would send when she wanted to fuck me.

But arranging an international travel schedule between two busy professional people requires lots of communication. So, FINALLY... Kate shared her cell number with me.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Now, here's what Kate was alluding to about her excitement of being here.

Kate arrived in Cancun for her conference last Sunday. I'm at home getting packed and making final arrangements for being away. My phone vibrates with a text message from Kate... no text, just a picture.

It's her crossed legs; she's probably already in a meeting. Her left hand is resting on her left thigh, right at the hem of her skirt. Her thumb is tucked under her palm and her fingers are extended and spread just slightly. It's a signal for "four"... as in four days until we connect. This text establishes a pattern.

I got here on Monday. While I'm engrossed in my own amazement of this place, my phone vibrates. It's another text from Kate with a similar picture from the day before. This time, Kate's hand is resting at the curve of her thigh as it joins her hip. It appears that Kate is outside; I can see textured concrete and hints of foliage. Maybe she's at the hotel pool. Kate's wearing an bright orange bikini bottom. Her thumb has captured her pinkie, and the remaining fingers are outstretched, signifying "three" days before our meeting.

Yesterday's text is Kate's left hand resting at the apex of her gorgeous legs stretched wide, exposing her crotch. The view is from her rib cage down toward her feet. She's in bed, the sheets and duvet are all akimbo. Kate's wearing a skimpy lace thong... and apparently nothing else. I can make out the rise of her mound, and maybe even the shape of the outer lips of her beautiful pussy. Kate's thumb, ring finger and pinkie are pulled into the palm of her hand and her index and middle fingers signify "two" days remaining.

Then, this morning I awake to a chirp on my phone. This message from Kate isn't a photo, but a video.

She's apparently in the bathroom of her hotel room, sitting on a marble bench... maybe in the shower. And she's naked.

Kate's beautiful feet are crossed at the ankle and resting on the shower floor. The POV of the camera is above her spectacular boobs and her nipples are erect.

Then the camera slowly moves down her body to reveal Kate's right hand outstretched over her pussy. Her fingers slowly compress to form a "Number One" symbol.

At the same time, Kate's feet uncross and her legs spread wide apart on the marble bench. Her feet move from the floor to the edge of the bench. It's a position that begs "Fuck Me."

Then Kate slowly lowers her hand between her legs and the outstretched index finger finds its way between the inner folds of her beautiful pussy. After a few seconds of her finger dipping and grinding into her cunt, Kate pulls her finger away and stretches it outward, back to the "Number One" symbol. A slight string of her pussy juice stretches from her crotch to the end of her extended finger. And the video ends.

No words. Just the ambient sound of the interior of the bathroom. On repeated viewings (MANY... repeated... viewings!!) I turn the volume all the way up and I jam the phone speaker to my ear. I think I can actually hear the glorious sound of Kate's finger squelching around inside her juicy pussy. And soft moans from Kate as it does so.

It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

Head Voice agrees: [Jeezzzus H. Fucking.........] He can't even finish the thought.

And I can't blame him.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Kate and I are standing at the edge of the patio looking into the gorgeous Caribbean waters when we hear footsteps behind us.

Turning, I see Raoul coming from inside the house, preceded by a burly gentleman with a bushy but well-trimmed mustache who I met on Monday... and have hardly seen since.

"Santos!" I announce. We shake hands and immediately move to a quick man-hug. I like this guy... and particularly what he does to run this place like a swiss watch.

Two quick claps on my shoulders and Santos diverts this attention to his new guest.

"And you must be Señorita Kathryn," Santos says with a slight bow in Kate's direction. "Welcome to Mayakoba. We've been looking forward to your arrival."

Kate offers her right hand, which Santos receives and shakes firmly.

"Please, call me Kate," she replies.

I interject with an introduction. "Santos is the Operations Manager of this place," I declare. "And you won't believe how well it runs."

"That's why I'm here," Santos continues. "May I take seven minutes of your time to show you a few things?"

"Of course," Kate says as we all begin to move back inside the bungalow.

It literally *is* seven minutes. Santos gave me the same demonstration when I got here on Monday.

Mayakoba is run like a cruise ship or an all-inclusive resort, except at the highest service level you can imagine. The Ritz-Carlton can take lessons from Mayakoba.

Sitting on an elegant desk near the main living room is a computer tablet, essentially, through which Kate and I can communicate with the resort staff. It's like a digital concierge.

There are smaller tablets in each room, and outside by the pool.

Our whole day is outlined for us and can be infinitely adjusted to our wishes.

Suggested meals are displayed, with the option to modify them as we wish.

Each day's dinner offering is described in detail with mouth-watering pictures of what our plate is going to look like when it's put before us. And I can testify to its accuracy.

Or we can choose something else. We can accept the time they suggest for our dinner, or we can arrange our own time, based on our activities of the day.

Pick a wine. It's delivered. Want more bourbon? No problem.

Want to book an excursion to see the Mayan Ruins? Tap here.

Want to ride a zip line through the jungle? Tap here.

The kitchen has a refrigerator that is stocked with items that don't need to come from the main kitchen (drinks, snacks, grab and go sandwiches, etc.) and there is a small fridge on the pool deck that can hold smaller amounts of the same.

Santos is a pro in describing all of this to Kate. I can literally feel her realization of exactly how pampered she will be for the next several days.

Kate is standing to my right and her left hand slowly but surely reaches for my right hand. At contact, her fingers link into mine and she grips my fingers progressively tighter and tigher. It's a mutual, silent,10-digit expression of "O...M...G!!!"

Santos notices Kate's hand. He doesn't miss a thing. And he's just about finished, anyway.

"Señor, Señorita," Santos says in a reverent tone, "'Mayakoba' is from the ancient Mayan tongue. It translates to 'village over the water.'

"And our community is, indeed, a village. And this village is here for your service. The only goal of ours is to give the two of you the most exceptional experience we can while you're with us.

Santos glances at Raoul, and nods.

"And now we'll bid you... adios."

Santos bows slightly to us both and moves swiftly to exit the bungalow. Raoul follows deftly behind and closes the front door behind them.

Kate is still holding my hand, and she turns to me and grabs the other one. Her face is beaming and she actually does a little school-girl shiver in her excitement about this place.

"Randy," she says quietly, "this is unbelievable! Did you expect this when you came here?"

I didn't, and I say so. "Wait until you're here a couple of days," I add on. "You're never going to want to leave."

It seems that Kate wants to say something, but she doesn't.

Instead, she releases my hands, puts her arms around my neck, and kisses me warmly.

After the kiss breaks, Kate looks into my eyes and asks with a coy tone in her voice:

"So... Señor... what do we do now??"

I pull Kate's fantastic body into mine.

"Well," I reply softly. "We could get wet...."

"Yeah??..." Kate whispers.

"Or we could get naked..."

"Mmmmmm," she coos.

Kate plays along.

She tilts her eyebrow sexily and gives me her snarky smile.

"Could we get... both?" Kate queries.

I kiss my beautiful neighbor softly.

"I think Santos would approve," I whisper.

Kate kisses me back, then breaks from my arms.

"I'll meet you at the pool," Kate chirps as she spins away to the guest room Raoul assigned to her.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Readers, don't think for a minute that Kate and I don't fuck like rabbits on this little Mayan adventure of ours.

We do. We fuck. A lot.

We actually pretty much fuck our way through the repertoire that we built up over the three months or so of our Fuck Buddy experience. I fuck Kate. Kate fucks me. Dirty talk. Lots of oral sex. You can read those details in the prior Randy and Kate posts.

With THIS post I'm going to describe the first of three -- and the most incredible three -- of my fucks with Kate on this trip.

It starts with Kate saying "I'll meet you at the pool."

And she does. In the same orange bikini (I guess... unless she has more than one) that she was wearing when she texted me two days ago.

Kate's bikini top doesn't stay on for long. The bottom doesn't stay on much longer.

When Kate spun away before I went to my room and changed into a swimsuit. After Kate gets naked, my swimsuit comes off in a little less than a heartbeat.

Kate and I spend most of the afternoon in the infinity pool.

There's kissing. There's grinding our groins against each other. There's more kissing. A little oral here and there, but nothing that leads to an orgasm for either one of us.

Each of us trying to convince the other one -- without saying so -- that we intend to fuck the ever-loving shit out of them. And, for some reason, we come to the unspoken agreement that we're going to do that tonight.

So there's no pressure. No schedule. We're on vacation. In paradise. Relax.

I apply the first of many coats of sunscreen to every inch of Kate's incredible body.

Kate returns that favor. She studiously applies sunscreen to my cock and my balls. I can't disguise my erection as she does so.

"We wouldn't want this to get... burned," she whispers with an evil grin, followed by a throaty laugh, followed by a loving kiss.

I learn that Kate's favorite tropical drink is a tie between a frozen margarita and a piña colada. She alternates between the two all afternoon. I roam all over the drink menu, making sure I intersperse an appropriate amount of bottled water in the mix.

Everything gets ordered through the tablet and the drinks are delivered via jet-ski from below the deck. They come to our level courtesy of a small glass-enclosed dumbwaiter.

Kate and I spend hours lounging in a comfy two-person chaise, enjoying the scenery, the water, the clouds, the conversation. And -- again unspoken -- we are also reveling in just being able to spend time together. Holding hands. Or Kate wrapped in my arms.