Chapter Two
Chapter Two
It was cooler now the sun was no longer blazing in the afternoon sky, but there was still plenty of heat in the air and as he walked through the evening streets, he could feel it emanating from all directions, and even though it was not directed at him, the draw was irresistible.
He could feel it in his bones.
Everywhere he looked, hordes of college students were partying once again. Or, more precisely, partying still. And what’s more, they were only just beginning.
But as alluring as that life was, as much as it unearthed fond memories long forgotten, of days and nights wasted in the pursuit of nothing more than pleasure through hedonistic excess, he knew that wasn’t for him.
Just watching them running around was exhausting, and he couldn’t imagine trying to keep up with them.
Not that anyone was asking him to.
He was still very much by himself, which suited him fine. He was happy to stand on the sidelines, an observer to the frenzied partying that swirled around him frantically. He was watching from the eye of the storm, the centre of peace in a flurry of chaos.
And he was happy with that.
He had never intended to come here, never intended to spend his holidays partying. Quiet self-reflection had been the plan, with evenings spent dining in local restaurants and embracing the local culture.
As he walked past one place filled to the brim with revellers, he saw a line of women standing on the bar, bent over, their smooth, slim legs moving as asses, barely covered by the shortest of skirts, were shaken invitingly towards the hollering crowd, who cheered wildly as the women teased them, then stood upright and danced on the bar, moving their perfect bodies not with precision but with feeling. Their energy was one of fun and excitement and sexual liberation, an energy that said ‘anything could happen tonight, and probably will, if you play your cards right.”
His cock twitched in his linen trousers as he watched the scantily-clad women, their sexual teasing arousing an intense desire deep within him. He could imagine having sex with one of them, hell, with all of them, at the same time, an experienced older man teaching those women real pleasure as they utilised their endless energy and enthusiasm to show him just what they were capable of.
What had started as a holiday fantasy about hooking up with a sophisticated European woman had given way to dreams of lust-fuelled orgies with women half his age! But that was all it was, a dream, a fantasy.
Until that afternoon, at least.
Now it seemed like anything was possible. He felt that sense of excitement he hadn’t felt since he was in college, that sense of invincibility that comes with youth, the feeling that you can accomplish whatever you desire, just through sheer sense of will alone. It was as if he had travelled back in time and was getting to live his twenties all over again, only with the knowledge and resources he’d gained over the last twenty years.
But at the same time, he was well aware this wasn’t the case and that he was twice as old as almost everyone here. He knew it would be all too easy, high on endorphins and that renewed sense of self-confidence, to slip into the ‘creepy older guy perving on college students’ zone, far easier than he would like to admit, for no matter how youthful he felt, he was not one of them.
As he continued to walk, he felt a pang of uncertainty penetrate his emotional armour. Yes, his afternoon with Chiho had been amazing, but that was a one-off, wasn’t it? Beautiful Asian college students weren’t exactly lining up to throw themselves at strange men twice their age, were they?
They could have anyone they wanted, so why would they want him?
He turned down a side street and found himself in one of the quieter areas, away from the riotous activity in the main street. Even, so it was still more than lively here, with live music blaring as revellers moved from bar to bar.
Feeling the need to settle for a minute, he walked into the first bar that wasn’t rammed full of people. Still, the music was loud and in the back there were a bunch of young men and women surrounding the pool table, playing some sort of drinking game, but at least there were some seats by the bar.
“Hey there,” said the woman behind the bar as Josh hopped up onto a stool in front of her, “what can I get you?”
“Just a diet coke, please,” he said.
She cocked an eyebrow.
“We don’t allow alcohol from outside into the bar.”
Josh looked at her for a moment, then realised what she was saying.
“Not drinking tonight,” he said, “too hot.”
“Doesn’t stop anyone else,” she said, eyeing the group at the back, who let out a cheer as one of their party completed a line of shots.
“Do I look like everyone else?” he asked.
She shrugged. He was older than everyone else, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t seen his type before.
“Regular or large?”
“Regular, please,” he said, and she walked off. He sat and waited for his drink, his eyes scanning the rows of liquor behind the bar, many brands he’d heard of and many he definitely hadn’t.
He wondered how many of them contained the same alcohol, distilled from larger, cheaper bottles in the back, specifically intended for the tourists who wouldn’t know good alcohol if it slapped them in the face. Not that he was exactly an expert, but his palette had moved somewhat from his youthful tipple of choice, namely the cheapest thing on the menu!
“There you go,” said the bartender, placing his diet coke on the bar. The glass was cold, with drops of icy water running down the side. Josh watched as the woman dried her hand on her jeans. “Anything else?”
Just then, quick as a flash, a young woman jumped up onto the barstool next to him.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” she said, pointing her thumb at Josh.
Josh looked at her. She was, of course, a college student. She was Asian, her body slim, her features sharp but kind. Her low-cut sundress hung loosely on her body, exposing a tantalising area of smooth soft skin between her pert breasts, the cut low enough to reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her dress was short, resting softly on her smooth thighs, her legs bare.
She could, he thought, have been a model, or a member of one of those all-girl pop ensembles that had taken the world by storm. He imagined her in a short skirt, dancing on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans, her body moving with precision as she carried out a never-ending row of choreographed dance moves.
The bartender coughed and he snapped back to reality. He quickly looked from the woman sitting by his side to the woman staring at him from the other side of the bar.
“Can I get another?” he asked, as if she might choose not to serve him.
“You got it,” she said, rolling her eyes as she turned away. He felt embarrassed for a moment, the dismissive attitude of the bartender at this obvious ruse, one she had likely seen far too many times before. A younger woman using an older guy to buy her drinks. She must have seen it a thousand times, men turned to fools, daydreaming about scoring with a younger woman, only too happy to oblige on the off-chance it might actually happen.
Not that he really cared too much about that or how it looked. He was only drinking diet coke, so it wasn’t particularly expensive and besides, he was glad of the company, especially when the company was so attractive.
“Hi there,” she said, sticking out her hand, “I’m Aiko.”
He took her small hand in his and she shook his vigorously. She didn’t seem particularly strong, but she certainly had gusto.
“I’m Josh,” he said.
As she continued to shake his hand, he could feel her soft skin in his and couldn’t help but wonder if the same thing was happening again. Still, he tried to put it out of his mind as quickly as possible. There was next to no chance of that being the case. Being approached by one knockout college student was one thing, but to be approached by two on the same day? That sort of thing just didn’t happen, not even on Spring Break.
And yet, here he was.
“Hi Josh,” she said, smiling, her teeth as perfectly white as they were straight, “so, what do you do?”
“Me?” He looked at her for a moment, her smile and touch and sweet scent overpowering his senses, making thinking a virtual impossibility. “I’m an architect.”
“Me too!” she said, bouncing on her stool. “Well, training to be. What are the odds?”
Yes,
he thought,
what are the odds.
He thought about asking her about how she found her training and who her influences were and what she actually wanted to design. But he had no interest in engaging in shop talk, even if it was with someone as beautiful as Aiko, and he sensed she felt the same way, if she was studying to be an architect at all.
“So what are you doing here?” she asked before he could think of another topic of conversation. “In Spring Break, I mean. I guess you’re not a student if you’re already an architect, besides you are
way
too old to be a student.”
He smiled slightly, surprised at her frankness.
“Oh my god,” she said, her face turning bright red as she realised what she said, “
I’m so sorry
, I didn’t mean to say you were
old
. I mean, clearly you are
old-er
, but that doesn’t make you
old
old, or even
old
. Besides some women like an older man, they know how to take good care of a lady. I don’t mean
take care
, I mean
I do
, but I didn’t mean – I’m going to stop talking now.”
Josh smiled at Aiko as she sat there, her eyes wide, cheeks glowing a bright red, her breathing heavy, her soft lips parted as she panted, having talked herself into exhaustion.
“It’s alright,” he said, “I tried to pass myself off as a mature student, but there’s mature and there’s
mature
.” He smiled and laughed, and she laughed in response. “I’m just kidding, I didn’t actually plan to come here at all.”
“No?” she asked, head tilted, requesting an answer.
“No,” he said, picking up his drink, the glass cool under his fingers making him realise how hot he suddenly felt, “I was supposed to be heading to Cannes.”
“
France?!
” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together as she pressed them between her breasts, her fingers pressing into the exposed skin between them. They were small, at least compared to Chiho’s, but they were pert, the perfect handful. He noticed for the first time that he could make out her nipples underneath her bress, her firm buds pressing against the fabric. “
I love France!
Well, I’ve never actually been, but I would love to go, one day.”
“Me too,” he said.
“But here’s nice too,” she said.
“Yes,” he said, looking at her adorable face, her flushed cheeks, “it is.”
“It’s
so
romantic.”
“Here?” he asked, looking around the dive bar. It had a certain charm, but ‘romantic’ wasn’t a word he’d use to describe it.
“Oh no, I meant France,” she said, suddenly serious, “but anywhere can be romantic, if you’re with the right person.” He felt her fingers brush against his knee and his cock twitched in his trousers.
“Are you with the right person?” he asked, his rising desire overruling his ability to think straight.
“Here’s your drink,” said the bartender, firmly placing the ice-cold glass on the bar in front of Aiko, the dark liquid splashing within, threatening to spill out over the rim but never quite doing so. She turned to Josh. “Anything else?”
Josh looked at Aiko who shook her head as her fingers stroked the cold, wet glass, wiping the condensation from it.
“No thanks,” said Josh as he returned his focus to the woman behind the bar. She held out the card reader and he tapped his credit card on it. It beeped in acceptance and the bartender walked off without so much as a word. Not that Josh had much time to think about it.
“Cheers,” said Aiko, holding up her glass, droplets of water hanging from her wet fingertips.
“Cheers,” said Josh as he picked up his glass. They clinked them together and each took a sip. As he drank, he could feel a few drops of cool water soaking through his trousers onto the top of his leg.
“Oh wow,” said Aiko, looking at her glass and then at Josh, “I thought this was going to be rum or whisky or vodka or something. But it’s just… cola?”
“
Diet
cola,” he said, taking another sip. She took another drink. “I like to live dangerously.” She snorted, then covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to stop herself from spraying him with diet coke.
“Oh my god,” she mumbled, hand still over her mouth, swallowing the last of the dark liquid down.
“Here,” he said, handing her a napkin from the pile on the bar.
“Thank you,” she said, finally dabbing the white paper on her lips and chin. “You must think I’m such an idiot.”
“We’ve all been there,” he said, a seemingly endless stream of memories suddenly flooding his psyche, moments where he had been the one laughing, spilling, snorting, knocking, or otherwise accidentally emptying one drink or another over himself or someone else.
“Oh my,” she said, lowering the napkin from her face, her cheeks reddening once again as she breathed deeply.
“You’ve got a drop,” he began, pointing first at her exposed skin between her breasts where a droplet of cola was running down between them, then to the same place on his own chest, keeping eye contact with her, as he tried to respectfully not stare at her tits.
They were small, much smaller than Chiho’s breasts, obviously, but they were the perfect shape for her body, and right now a drop of diet cola was running slowly down between them.
“Quick,” she said, “get it before it’s too late.”
“What?” he asked, frozen in place, a napkin in hand, his drink in the other, both hesitant and desperate to reach out and touch her. But before he could decide which instinct to follow, she chose for him, grabbing the back of his head and pressing his face into her chest.
He smelt her sweet perfume and felt the heat of her body as she held him to her. He could taste the sweet liquid on her skin and, in the customary tradition of Spring Break, ran his tongue up between her breasts, licking up the cold liquid running down her body. His cock hardened as he tasted her skin, her hand holding onto his head more firmly as his tongue worked its way up her body, her soft moans music to his ears.
As his tongue reached the bottom of her neck, she let go of his head and he reluctantly sat back upright, her intoxicating scent still in his nostrils.
“Thank you,” she said, touching the area where his tongue had been, “I didn’t want it to ruin my dress.”
“My pleasure,” he said, the taste of her skin mixing with the cola on his tongue, “it’s a very lovely dress.”
“It
is
,” she said, looking down at it, her fingers moving over her breast as she touched the soft fabric, and he imagined how lovely it would look in a pile at her feet, ever more lovely as she stepped out of it, her slim body completely bare.
“This is why I don’t drink,” she said, placing the glass of diet cola on the bar, before taking the napkin from his fingers and wiping her wet hands with it, “I’m clumsy enough when I’m sober!”
“I can relate to that,” he said. “But you seemed surprised I wasn’t drinking?”
“I was,” she said, but I’d just always wanted to say that, you know? ‘I’ll have what he’s having.’ Its corny, I know but…”
“I think it’s sweet,” he said.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So, why don’t you drink?” she asked, her fingers once again moving slowly up and down the glass, the tips wiping off the condensation, “if that’s not a rude question?”
“Not at all,” he said, “but I wouldn’t say I
don’t
drink,” I just prefer not to drink alone.”
“But you’re not alone now.”
“True,” he said, “but you’re not drinking either, and no one sober likes hanging out with a drunk person!”
“Would you prefer it if I drank?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he said, truthfully, “it’s always better to get to know someone when they’re sober.”
“You want to get to know me?” she asked, perking up.
“I didn’t think I had much of a choice,” he said, smiling, “but, yes, I do.”
“That’s good,” she said, “I want to get to know you too.” She placed her hand on his, her fingertips cold from the glass as they stroked the back of his hand.
“You’re so hot,” she said, her hand still on his, “I’m sorry,” she pulled her hand away, “I meant warm, not that you’re hot, not that you’re not
not
hot.”
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked, giving her an out from her stream-of-consciousness rambling, “it’s getting warm in here with all the people.”
“Sure,” she said, hopping off the barstool, landing silently as her petite feet hit the floor, “I hate crowds.”
“Lead the way,” he said, hopping off his stool and holding his arm out to let her go first.
As she went, he watched her sundress swaying around her pert ass as she navigated through the crowd.
As he followed this stunning Asian college student out of the bar and into the streets of Cancun, he wondered just what the hell he had gotten himself into down here.