Summer Valentine

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An icon in the erotic poetry genre, she needed no introduction. Although we had never met in person, I recognized her immediately standing away from the airport carousel and strolled over to greet the two ladies I was expecting. The other had to be her cousin Eva. They had been whispering in each other’s ears. At first brown eyes opened in surprise, then her lip turned up to join her visual appraisal of me.

There was a brief verbal exchange and she turned to flash daggers at her companion. “Oh no!” my inner voice told me, “She’s dissatisfied with me.” The long-awaited meeting with my pen pal, my friend, would be profound disappointment. She must have seen the expression on my face as her hand covered her mouth in surprise. White teeth flashed a wide smile as kind eyes reassured me.

“Maria, I always knew you were more sensational than the shy girl you saw in the mirror. My head cannon was a spicy Chiquita, beautiful, brilliant poet/temptress. In person you are striking! That 19-year-old diva grew into a radiant woman, wife, and mother. The years have been a friend to you,” I had not expected to speak so boldly.

I wasn’t sure if her look was doubt or gratitude. She stared in amazement, as though I was a talking animal. I realized she had never heard my voice. Cousin Eva began to explain: “he knew nothing of the phony encounter. God’s truth, Maria. I have known your secret for years, but never told anyone, did I? I saw you had a friend, or should I say follower in California. When you found out about the Writer’s Guild at the San Diego Comicon, you looked so animated. I thought I could hitch a ride and get a fresh start on the West Coast. But I didn’t know anyone, and you wouldn’t take this step on your own.”

“I began to write Martin pretending to be you. At first, he was a little suspicious of my style, so I kept the messages brief. He seemed like a decent, dependable guy and never pressed me, especially after I told him about the trip. He was excited about the chance for me (you) to explore my (your) true passion to be a writer,’ Eva defended.

I broke in, “Now I understand your panic, Maria, you thought this was all a ruse.”

“And you Eva, this is wrong! Even though I’m delighted to meet Maria in person, there are potential consequences. We are both married. I never even considered we would hook up, and I know she didn’t want to cross any barriers. What do we do now?” my face flushed as I searched for an answer.

Some explanation was in order. We were more than pen-pals but had drawn a bright line to avoid becoming friends with benefits. Our personal lives were an open book, but there were unwritten rules not to talk about our marriages and not give out photos or contact info. And not try to meet-up.

Maria’s focus was her little family of three and was she very close to her parents, even though she was a grown woman. None of them had any inclination she was a successful, self-professed ‘popular porn playwright.’ She once penned to me, “you must know that I’m very shy and a major introvert. If I had a choice, I’d never leave my house.”

I broke the rule about discussing family life when I wrote Maria to tell her about my wife’s affair. I decided not to kick her out because of the three children. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to my friends and Maria helped me get through a difficult time. Maria also suffered from bouts of depression. Resisting the urge to “fix the problem” like a leaky sink, I did my best to support, encourage and remind her she was not alone, that we all had seasons, spring, summer, fall and winter.

“Well Maria, what say you?’ a phrase familiar to us.

“Let’s start by saying, hello, hello, it is nice to finally meet you” Maria’s voice melodic and sweet. And the way her tongue flicked the roof of her mouth when she pronounced ‘hello’ drew my eyes to her full succulent lips.

“You are the siren in the poem I shared with you “I stammered, “that voice, that lovely voice. You could read the phonebook and knock me off my feet.”

“I don’t know about that,” she giggled sending shivers up my spine. Maria smiled and held out her arms to welcome me. July in San Diego was cooler than South Texas, but it was summer, and we dressed suitably, her in a tank top and both of us in shorts. I lifted the five-foot one dainty into a warm hug, soft breasts meeting hard chest. I threaded my fingers through her locks, turned our heads down slightly, and drew our foreheads together, her legs wrapped around my hips, light as a child. She followed every move and made no attempt to break away as her hands clasped around me.

Finally pulling us apart I took both ladies by the hand to lead them to collect the baggage. Maria may have thought I was being macho picking up all the luggage, pulling four on rollers and carrying others. Truth-be-told that brief body to body connection gave me an embarrassing erection which I was trying to hide. Even when I broke that contact, I could breathe the fragrant strands of her wavy hair, yalova escort and drink in the minty scent of her breath. I had to get a handle on myself.

The encounter reminded me of my very first experience walking through the gates of the Magic Kingdom when I was a boy. I never, ever expected to behold the real Maria, much less have a chance to be with her for a few days. Fantasyland indeed, my senses were overloaded by her womanhood.

The exertion of struggling to balance the bags and not make a fool of myself brought oxygen back into my brain. “Keep cool Marty, don’t blow this,” I told myself. Fortunately, Maria displayed her usual unflappable composure, so I didn’t read anything into her coy smile. I must have looked ridiculous, that was all.

Our procession led to the curb where my friend Jim was waiting in his Kona Blue 2011 Mustang, convertible top down. He jumped out to help me fill up the trunk, Maria and I climbed into the back seat of the coupe, bare legs touching. “Which way to the Casbah?’ questioned Jim without turning back. We had commandeered a little house of a friend a block from the beach.

“Let’s drop our stuff off and head to Seaport Village. The seminar doesn’t start for a few hours.” I cheerfully spoke out, “We need to go bikini shopping.”

Eva spoke up, “I want to see the ocean first, let’s go for a drive” After we passed through downtown, the highway headed south, skirting a body a water on the right. “That doesn’t look like the sea, where are we?”

“Actually, that is the San Diego Bay, we will make a big loop and you can see the sea.” The stereo speakers boomed out ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ as Jim called out, “I’ll crank it up, no road trip is complete without music.”

The ladies got their first view of the Great Blue Pacific on the return trip north. Jim stopped by the highway, pulled a set of binoculars from the glove box, and coached

“If you look carefully, you can see a bod of blue whales two miles out on the horizon.”

“Yes, I think I can see their fins, they look smaller than expected,” Eva proclaimed, “here Maria.”

“Not too small at over 100 tons,” I corrected. “Maria, try to be still and train your eye on the spot, you should be able to make out the humpbacks when they surface.”

Maria’s call of ‘magnificent’ signaled she had located them. She handed to spyglass back to Eva, who opened her mouth in awe.

Jim broke in, “this will be the best ‘fishing trip’ we ever had.” Back at the port parking lot Jim changed the game plan, “We don’t need any fancy fishing gear, but we could use a new cooler. Marty let’s split up. I’ll drop you and Maria off at the entrance to save time looking for a parking space. Call me when you are ready to be picked up.”

Maria and I leaped out of the back seat without opening the door as he drove off.

“We’re going to have a good time.” I put forward. “There’s a nice swimwear shop here. You need bikinis to fit in and they have all kinds. Maria you would never buy one for yourself, this is my treat. I saved up Happy Money.

Is it OK to hold your hand? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” I asked Maria

“Sure, by now you should know I trust you, and right now I feel I can be free,” Maria snickered.

“Your trust will be put to the test. It’s one thing to write ‘dirty talk’ 1300 miles apart. But to see you in the flesh and hear your enchanting voice is more than a temptation, even for a Christian,” I confessed. I hope my brief shake of the head in disbelieve did not actually show.

Maria put my worries to rest,” Relax. Let’s make a couple of rules. Anything covered is off limits to touch. We keep our privates hidden for a reason. I’ll let YOU know when you reach a danger zone. I don’t have to tell you, no means no. Might as well have some fun, I haven’t ventured out in a long time.” I was pleased with her reply.

We strolled through the open mall hand in hand. Maria chattered along the way, random thoughts while taking in the open marketplace. I had a little bit of difficulty following her as what I heard was the song of a nightingale. Hearing my cellphone ringtone from the back pocket, I looked to see Jim’s name light up. I put him on speaker as I answered.

“Change of plans, man. Eva wants to get away on an excursion. Can you handle it?” Jim’s words reflected in Maria’s frown.

Maria heard everything, “Martin, what are you guys up to?”

“Let me call you back,” I quickly ended the call.

Maria wasn’t surprised, “I suspected Eva would try to ditch me, didn’t think it would be so soon. Frankly, I been fretting how things would work out at night. Eva is showy and I couldn’t bear to listen to her moans and screams keeping me awake.”

“Do you have everything you need today? Our gear should be safe and I know where the owners keep a spare key. I can retrieve my ride so we won’t be stranded,” I had to be careful how I phrased the next sentence, “Maria, I didn’t plan this arrangement, but frankly three days with you are more than yalova escort bayan I ever dreamed would happen.”

She looked intently at me looking for any trace of deceit. “I’m losing my chaperone.”

“You don’t need one. Besides what you are losing is a gossip girl.”

“Call him back, tell him OK,”

I made the call brief, then spoke to Maria, keeping my voice even, “Let’s go, the shop is this way.” At first, she shook off my gesture to clasp hands, walking behind, studying the paving stones. Maria then doubled her stride to catch me. Grasping pinkies touched off little sparks. I know she felt them too.

Sitting on the ‘chair of shame’ near the dressing room, I could not convince her to come out far enough to see what she was trying on. When she did venture out it was in a one-piece swimsuit with skirt, like my mother used to wear. Rather than jumping in the deep end, I selected a tankini with two matching bottoms, a classic side string tie and G-string. The tankini had a demi bra and a cut out for side boob.

The second selection was a burgundy v-top and black high cut back and leg one piece with elastic shaping waist. Maria picked up her own cross over white and beige halter with more than a hint of breast and butt cleavage.

I also handed her a multi-colored partially see-through bikini shawl that matched her complexion and eyes, “here, go try these on and don’t make me come in there.”

“Oh, I like this,” she smiled, “here goes!’ she laughed aloud.

Like a model on a runway, Maria strolled out and strutted, wearing her choice “What do you think?”

“Wow, wow, wow,” was all I could say. I acted nonchalantly, not knowing where to gaze as she turned around. As if she read my mind, Maria crossed her arms over her chest. “Please don’t do that, put your arms down, let the world see you in your glory,” I implored as I gazed into brown eyes, the color of coal, moments before the earth turns it into a diamond. I closed mine to call up the image of the almost perceptible outline of her ‘Hershey Kisses’ and crinkly areola.

Dropping her arms and pushing out her chest proudly, all the while holding eye contact, Maria beamed, “you were right, these are very flattering. I was worried about looking like an old mom. I feel sexy and why not? Wanna see the other two, help me decide?”

“Show me the Tankini and G-string. There’s nobody here but us,” I advocated.

Maria treated me to a private show interrogating as she spun around, “doesn’t this make my ass look too big?”

“Too perfect, you mean,” was my honest appraisal, “you can always use the cover up if you are feeling self-conscious. But as they say, if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

Blushing, she glared at me, “I think you’re biased, but I can tell by the gleam in your blue eyes that you approve, and the praise is sincere.”

Surreptitiously I had put the contoured suit back. Her body was exactly right and needed no sculpting. “It’s us, let’s be playful, try them both on again.” I goaded.

Unlike other women I knew, Maria didn’t waste time slipping in and out of her outfits. She gave a repeat show. She danced and pranced around, feeling free and delighted with this side of herself. “OK, you know me well, which one,”

By this time, I couldn’t stand up without revealing the obvious. “Get dressed and I’ll decide. We need to get going. I hear there are some great speakers at the sessions,” and as she turned away to put on her clothes, I told the clerk to wrap up both with the shawl in one box and not let her see. When she came out, I handed her the bag with the package, “I made a choice, but I want it to be a surprise. After class we’ll take a walk along the beach, and you will turn heads.”

The street fair was held in the famous Gaslight District, several parallel streets with many shops, restaurants, bars and venues. Riding the C Street Trolly and walking four blocks, voila, there were crowds of people, electronic billboards, life-size comic character cutouts. Eyes big as saucers, Maria took in her first Comicon extravaganza. Standing under the arc at the Westin Hotel Plaza, I told her to meet me there when the first day events were over.

On the way over I had her write down my cell phone number in case of separation.

“When you call me, dial ‘Star 67’ before my number and your caller ID will show up as restricted. I don’t mind you having my number. If you decide someday to give me yours, you will know the right time.”

Retrieving my vintage 1992 Teal Accord Coup, I drove her directly back to the house. The sun was still brilliant at 3:00 p.m. I waited outside as Maria changed into the suit she picked out and we made our way to the boardwalk.

Later that day the sky had turned multiple hues of amber, blue, orange and gold as sun faded into the west over the ocean. Maria was tired from the trip and had no time for rest since arriving. With the sand still too hot for our feet, I laid out the towels and backpack, while hoping from one foot to the escort yalova other. We sat down facing the fading sun to appraise her performance on her first day. My goal was to keep her attentive, not let her succumb to the lulling music of the surf.

“Did you see the lifeguard in the orange speedo? He couldn’t take his eyes off you and kept arranging himself,” I chided.

“Is that why you led me past him three times? From the bulge in his shorts, he most certainly had a nice long cock. I thought I glimpsed the head poking out when I walked by him. I almost sprained my neck trying to appear aloof and not turn my head,” she joked, “and you need to control yourself better, I saw the way you squirmed during our promenade, one would have thought there was a mouse crawling in your shorts. I’m sure you were looking out for me, not looking at me when you fell behind and assumed the flank.”

“Hey, men are idiots, I can’t help I was spellbound” I explained.

“Don’t be alarmed, I didn’t mean it that way, your hardware is not too shabby. You weren’t pulling my leg when you told me about arousal causing you to sneeze. It was cute. I watched you, never diverting your eyes away from me when we passed a babe. “Every time I heard ‘Achoo” I almost wet myself,”

“You know the effect you have on me. My willy has a mind of its own and you encouraged him when you asked me to massage shea butter on your fabulous derriere. I must say that your shiny skin accentuated your curves. Apparently “honeymoon rhinitis’ is a real condition. All I do is think about you. It’s a good thing my wife doesn’t know, she thinks I have allergies.”

Changing the subject I asked, “Everyone on the oceanfront is aware of your loveliness, especially that tall young bare-chested surfer. Would you like to meet him? I know you go for the boys. I wonder if he’s a virgin.”

“I prefer young men, don’t make me out a pervert,” Maria corrected me,

“I think he was young and a virgin, averting his eyes when you tried to catch his attention,” I said

“Don’t you think I noticed those stealth stares of pure lust as though he could see right through me? He couldn’t hide behind the long shaggy blond hair.”

“I should have told you earlier, the white material of the suit you wore today is practically see-through when wet, “I confided.

“I’m not naïve, I kept that one for a thrill. Do you like what you see?” she pressured me.

“Always, but I’m worried that if I step out of line, go too far …” Maria interrupted my speech by pressing her lips gently against mine for a kiss. I leaned in to secure her, hands gently squeezing the outside of her thighs, lightly skimming her soft sticky legs.

She pulled back to say, “thank you for everything. You know how to make a girl feel special, I love the beach and don’t think you’re the only one who needs to keep an eye on boundaries. I know how you feel so you don’t have to say it. Your wife cheated but help me be a good girl.”

“Your lips aren’t covered, and I cannot resist them …” my words broken off by another kiss, lips sealed with no tongue, yet so full, pouty, silky, kissable. She was in no hurry to break contact.

“Tonight, you will see the stars unnumbered. Let’s get you back to the house. Camping is not permitted on this stretch of beach, but I know a place close by where we can watch the sunset. I’m going to a set up a private camp, with an unzipped sleeping bag for the mattress and blankets covers. We can shelter on a bluff ten feet above the tide, out of the wind. watch the sunset and take a midnight stroll. I am hoping we could sleep on the beach tonight, to hold you close to me until dawn, unless that might be too much…”

“Will I still make it to the second day of the event?” she meekly enquired, “I really want to meet some of speakers. One of my favorites is there.”

“Of course, that’s why you came to San Diego. Put on this Comicon T” were the last words for the evening. I handed her a white shirt, the front lightly adorned with a logo over a wave below the collar bone. The art on the back displayed a colorful Parrot and Palm Tree with the words San Diego Comicon.

As if I were her brother, she turned her back to me, peeled out of her suit to change. I could make out in the dim the perfect heart of her derriere. Maria chose the moderate version of the Tankini. On our way I could barely her see over the blankets she was carrying. I caught traces of the shirt which glowed slightly in the night and could make out that it was tied at the waist.

Exhausted from her travels and first day, Maria skipped the midnight stroll. She slept soundly through to the morning. Her steady breathing lulled me to sleep. We switched positions once when she got tangled in the blankets. Turning away from me she settled down, me spooning her to the opposite position. Although nothing beyond a ‘G Rating’ happened, holding Maria in my arms that night will always be a fond memory. Breathing her hair, gently cuddling her rounded figure, feeling the rise and fall of her tummy were simple pleasures. The erotic aroma of night sweat filled my nostrils. After sharing intimate thoughts over five years of email exchanges, I never felt closer to her as that night.

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