Authors: Hollie Williams
“Oh my god!” I laugh, dropping my head onto his chest.
We decide to go and check out some of the Mayan Ruins, I didn’t know there were any around here. I had done a little research before I came and it had seemed like I was smack bang in the middle of no-where.
Carlos is maintaining tight lips and refuses to give away any details of our day trip, it’s all very suspicious.
He calls ahead for a private car to drive us there, letting slip that our destination is only an hour away; I wrack my brains to try and recall the map I had poured over extensively at home, searching for any image from my memory that might provide a hint to the surprise, but I draw a blank.
We arrive out the front of the lobby to be met by a sparkling, silver Bentley. My jaw drops to the floor, “Wow” I gasp, I had no idea he had this kind of money.
“It’s a Flying Spur.” He tells me, as if the name would mean something to me, “just a company hired car, we use them to ferry the family and more exquisite guests around. We get a pretty good deal with them” he explains it away.
“
Stil
l
, Wow!” I don’t care what he says, hired or not, it’s still lush.
As Carlos opens the door for me the chauffeur jumps out to close it, once he has slid in next to me.
You can smell the plush leather as soon as you enter; with veneer wood paneling throughout. It’s so spacious and comfy, I would be happy to just be driven round in this all day, rather than see the Ruins.
Outside we pass numerous tin shack villages, and roadside stalls littered with brightly coloured rugs and hammocks, contrasting against the barren scenery; away from the coast, it’s very dry and dusty, the hot sun scorching any life out of the ground. There are some trees and foliage in places, but I cannot fathom how it survives in this drought.
All too soon we turn off the main road, I start scanning our surroundings and notice a sign depicting ‘Fausto Vega Santander Airport’ I look towards Carlos who’s grinning inanely at me.
“The airport?”
“Yep” is his only reply, he is infuriating.
When we come to a standstill the chauffeur again jumps out and opens my door for me, offering his hand to assist me out. We are right out on the runway next to a small private plane.
“We have a share in this with some of the other Hotel owners around Mexico, but most of them hardly ever use it, so I thought we may as well make use of it, as you want to see the Ruins.” Again he subtly down plays the amazing fact that he has access to a private plane.
It’s a small plane, with only about ten seats, but it’s still impressive. We sit for about twenty minutes, while the pilot does his checks, then we take to the skies; I’m transfixed by the views, my face pressed against the window for the whole ninety minute flight. We are served refreshments by a quiet and noticeably uncomfortable young man, I imagine working on here he has to put up with a lot of rich, pompous ass’s so when he sees me, a rooky, clearly awed by the whole thing he relaxes considerably and even pops an extra olive in my Martini.
I barely have time to finish the drink, because I spend the entire flight glued to the window, with occasional outbursts of ‘wow look at that’ and ‘isn’t that beautiful!’ in Carlos’s direction. He laughs at my childish glee, but lets me revel in it.
The landing is a little bumpy, but all in all it’s an awesome experience, I’ve never been in any kind of private plane before, hell I’ve never even traveled in first class before!
Grasping Carlos’s hand I squeeze tightly, “that was so exciting!”
He gives me a suspicious look, as if no one can really be that excited by flying in a small plane, but then shrugs it off and gives me a quick peck on the lips before we depart.
As we descend onto the runway in Cancun, what appears to be the same Bentley that dropped us off in Fausto Vega, is awaiting us, “Isn’t it a fifteen hour drive to get here?” I ask perplexed. Carlos lets out a surprised laugh, giving me that same, ‘you can’t be serious look’. “It’s a different car” he says it slowly, as if he is still unsure if I have actually just said something that naïve.
I realise then just how stupid I was, I was all hyped up and not thinking straight; I got out of a silver Bentley and on to a plane, I left the plane and there was a silver Bentley waiting, I put two and two together and got ten!
“Oh yeah, of course not” I say bumping the heel of my hand against my forehead, as if trying to knock the sense back in.
Fortunately he seems amused by my oversight, as he ushers me in to silver Bentley number 1’s twin brother.
“Right so where do you want to go?” he asks, starting to list off increasingly bizarre words “Coba, Tulum, Xel-Ha, Chichen Itza, Dzibilchaltun? Did you have an area in mind?”
I look at him blankly; he is both figuratively and literally speaking another language.
“Shall I pick?” he offers.
“Yes! Please do” I say relieved.
He thinks for a moment while I study his face; when he concentrates he gets a small crease between his eyebrows and a far-away look about him. Letting my gaze rest on is eyebrows, I’ve never noticed it before, but they seem almost shaped. They are thick set and dark like his hair, but they follow a perfect line, with not one out of place, he doesn’t seem to be the type to get his eye brows professionally shaped, but then again, no one can have brows naturally that perfect.
“Ok, I think Coba, it’s close by, it’s not the biggest, but it’s not so touristy which is nice and you can still climb up to the top, which they’ve stopped you doing with a lot of the more famous ones” he speaks, breaking my intense concentration on his possible beauty regimes.
“Do you pluck your eyebrows?” I just have to know.
“What?”
“Your eye brows” I repeat pointing my finger at them, “it looks like you pluck them”
He ponders this for a minute before speaking “I don’t personally no”
“What does that mean?” I push him.
“Lauria at the Spa does them, although I’ll have to have a word with her, it’s not meant to be noticeable” he says, running his fingers across them.
“It’s not noticeable, it’s just when you really look at them they’re too perfect to be au-natural”
“You’ve been studying them?” he asks with a chuckle.
“No” I lie, “I’m just very astute”
“Oh yes, Ms. Mavers, that you are” he says sarcastically, silencing any argument I might have with a kiss.
It’s about a forty-five minute drive, but in the luxury of the hire car it goes by quickly; before I know it, we are exiting the car and heading to the entrance. Carlos insists on paying for our entry, I argue the point hard, as so far, he has provided two expensive hire cars and a private flight, but he has none of it. I settle with insisting that I pay for our lunch.
The site itself is stunning, reading through the brochure its also huge, eighty square foot to be exact. We decide just to do one of the routes, rather than the whole place, and head toward the main pyramid, the Nohoch Mul.
White dirt roads weave through the thick forest, branching off on occasion to clearings that house temples and buildings, in various stages of decay.
To his credit, Carlos humours me, exploring every tiny path way, almost hidden by over grown plants, and climbs every one so we can take photos of us together at the top.
Living here, he must have done this all before, but he matches my excitement the whole way round.
We come across an archway with a tree growing out the top, it’s roots exposed, entangled with the stone of the arch; standing at the opening Carlos wraps one arm around me and stoops to kiss me. I’m expecting a little smooch, but he pushes his lips hard against mine, then parts his own, giving his tongue open access to my own. Just as I’m returning his vigour he pulls away smirking.
“What are you smirking about?” I ask. He brings his arm down and turns the camera so he can look at his handiwork. Giggling he turns it for me to see; the picture has caught a perfect angle, you can see the top of the arch, the tree roots flowing down each side, the sunlight streaming through in magical sparkling streams, and us, framed between them. My arms are locked around his neck, one hand grabbing his hair, and his spare hand can just be seen firmly planted on my bum.
“Nice, you have a real knack for this”
“For taking pictures or for kissing?” he asks, now snaking both arms around my hips.
“Hmmmmm….” I pretend to have to think over my answer, “Both” I finally answer him.
We fall into a softer, more sensual kiss which makes me wish we had just stayed in bed today. He slips his hand masterfully up my leg, under my dress, making me squeal, “What are you up to?” I whisper, my eyes darting round to see if we have been spotted making this very public display of affection.
“There’s no-one here, we could just have a little fun” he suggests, running the tip of his nose up my neck and kissing my jaw line.
“Are you serious?” I breathe, shocked by his proposal for blatant outdoor pursuits. He nods eagerly, his trademark impish grin spread across his face.
“What about me taking it easy? Thought I wasn’t allowed to partake in any strenuous activity?” I tease, knowing full well I am more desperate for this, than he is.
“I’ll be doing all the work sweetness, you can just enjoy the ride” God he’s smooth!
I quickly take another scan around, confirming that there isn’t a soul in sight, then nod, accepting his advances.
Crouching down in front of me, he runs his hands up the outside of my thighs, hitching my dress up with his fingers as he does; when he reaches my pants he hooks his two little fingers into the elastic and gently tugs them free, sliding them down my legs so I can step out of them. He then casually throws them over his shoulder to the ground, beaming up at me. Leaning forward he begins to kiss and lick his way up my inner thigh; on occasion he stops and sucks an area, flicking his tongue over my flesh, then bares his teeth and nips me. It’s not hard, doesn’t even leave a mark, but the mix of sensations, soft lips, wet tongue, pain, rushing across my skin, lights a fuse inside of me, I’m already raring to go. I bend my knees bringing him closer to the prize, but he is intent on taking his sweet time.
A Rustle in the bushes to my left, catches my attention, Carlos does not seem to notice, or care, as he continues to tease me; I scan the area, but all I can see is dense forest. There could potentially be any number of people just inside watching us. My concern is instantly lost when he pushes his tongue into me; swirling it around then moving up and sucking on my clit, my hands are in his hair, pulling to guide his mouth where I want it, my legs spreading further apart for maximum thrills.
All I can hear now is my own rapid breathing and the thump of my pulse in my ears. I hold his head still and rock my hips back and forth over his tongue, pausing at my lips so he can bite and suck them, before plunging forward and letting his tongue roam inside me again. This time I’m in control, it’s as though I am playing with myself, only with the help of his luscious mouth.
“You’re so wet” he murmurs into me.
“Then come here” I say back, pulling his hair gently upwards.
He stands instantly grabbing my buttocks and lifting me off the ground. I part my legs so they are either side of him; the arch we are under is just the right size so I can rest my feet on the opposite wall, allowing me to take at least some of my weight.
He enters me slowly, by his erection it’s obvious that he’s enjoying our open air session, without me even touching him it stands to full attention, filling me inch by inch as he pushes in.
Locking my legs out straight I can pin myself to the wall, my back pressed firmly against the smooth stone, so Carlos is free to thrust at will.
He doesn’t take it slow for long, quickly upping the pace, my hands on his chest, his hands still fondling my ass, as he slams into me over and over.
Moving one of his hands he slips it down his side, so it’s on the inside of my leg and grasps my knee, pushing it up until my leg drapes over his shoulder. This new position lets him go even deeper, I want to scream my ecstasy out loud, but I know I have to keep quiet, so I bite down hard on my lip.
Suddenly he pulls my one straight leg up to match the first on his other shoulder, I no longer have any control, “Put your arms around my neck” he says hurriedly, I immediately comply. Keeping one hand beneath me and wrapping the other around my back, he steps away from the wall and lowers us both to the floor.
“I couldn’t stand not kissing you” he explains, letting my legs slip off his shoulders, so I can re-position them to be locked around his waist, he leans down and kisses me longingly. At this angle we can both thrust, finding our rhythm and building up speed, his lips never leaving mine. I can feel every sensation intensify and I know what’s coming “I’m going to cum” Carlos warns.
“Yes baby” is all I can put into words.
He just makes it before me, but the feel of him cuming inside me brings me to orgasm. We lie together trembling in the aftermath, letting our muscles relax and recover; Carlos stroking my hair and leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose, enjoying the peaceful afterglow of sex.
Luckily we hear the commotion before we see anyone, I have just enough time to jump up and snatch my knickers off the ground and push them into Carlos’s pocket before the group emerges round the corner. My dress is askew and I’m covered in sandy dust from the floor. If Carlos is anything to go by we both look flustered, sweaty and overall guilty; but we saunter away through the slowly forming crowd and make our escape back onto the main path before collapsing in hysterics.