Mid-Life Crisis Diaries (11 page)

C H A P T E R  17

M
arsha waited for him to walk around the car and open her door. What she really wanted to do was race up the walk, unlock everything, and fluff her hair in the mirror, but she didn’t dare deviate from his lead. She hadn’t had sex in so long it was safe to say that it might actually be different than she’d remembered it. Probably a huge reason Blake was so unhappy, now that she thought about it. If all men wanted to feel as turned on as Andre seemed to be—
good God, look at that thing.
It was eye-level as he stepped forward to open her door—then she couldn’t blame him for leaving. She hadn’t so much as asked him how he liked her hair in years, the poor guy. All the color in her face went straight to her cheeks so as to give her away when Andre held his hand out for her. He was wearing a face she’d not seen on him, and it was immaculate.

She took his hand, and he looked at her, not with the face of someone wise beyond his years, but of a gentleman who knew he was about to care for a woman. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, besides the actual half smile he was wearing. He looked confident, which she could only assume was his confidence in his ability to perform well. She could also only assume that she probably wouldn’t, but she dug deep and tried to imagine her newfound confidence as a ball of light…as she’d once heard Dr. Lee put it. The ball of light was a physical thing, and you could summon it at will, and tell it where you’d like it to go. How you’d like it to help you out. In this case, Marsha was aiming for a decently sexy strut up the front walk to the door. Andre wouldn’t see it, because she was trailing behind him, but she wanted it for herself, just the same. Amazingly, the strut was there. And she watched his perfect ass the whole time she was pulling it off. For the first time since they’d finished swimming, she noticed that he didn’t seem to be wearing any underwear. His light, salmon colored shorts were somewhat see-through, and there was no underwear line on that perfect behind.

What kind of young man doesn’t wear underwear in public? To a restaurant?
She asked herself. Andre spun around and held out his hand. She handed him the keys, and he laced his arm around her waist, pushed her into the corner of the doorway, and kissed her in one swift motion. She would have fallen had it not been such a good move, turned out she only teetered on her tiptoes for a moment. When she realized she wasn’t falling to her death, she let out a sigh, which only made him growl and squeeze her sides with both hands. She grunted, as did he in return. Never in her life had she been so turned on by the sounds someone made, and the sound of a man responding to
her sounds
. It was incredibly romantic and gave her goosebumps all over her arms and legs.

Eventually, Andre fumbled for the door and dragged her inside, kicking the large oak door closed with his foot. This was it. She was about to cheat on her husband…for real. And there would be no going back.

Andre ran his palms up Marsha’s back and traced back down her spine, taking her shirt with it each time. The feeling was incredible, and she decided that more than anything, she needed to research these feelings right now. She laughed aloud, a throaty cackle, and Andre stopped kissing her.

“What is it?”

“I was just picturing this as research.” Marsha laughed again. “I’m so sorry, please. Please—” but he was already chuckling and dipping down into a squatting position in front of her.

“Dinner would be a business expense, then,” he winked up at her, his hands on her knees. They both laughed, but Marsha’s was a bit nervous now that he wasn’t nibbling at her jaw.

She placed one hand on the top of his head, and absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, realizing she’d been wanting to do that since the first day.

“What’re you—” she started, looking down at him.

“Shh.” Andre traced down the back of her calves on the outside of her new skirt and down to her ankles, kissing the material covering her knees. Just having him down toward the ground was enough to make Marsha uneasy, but she wasn’t about to complain. After a few seconds, he touched her legs with both palms and, holding his thumbs out, gently lifted her skirt up to her panties, stopping to breathe in front of her while he did it. Andre seemed to be enjoying himself, and she wasn’t about to stop such a beautiful soul from enjoying anything, though her legs were starting to quiver in anticipation. She couldn’t remember what to do next. Not because she was a prude, but because she really hadn’t thought about how this would all play out when they started kissing. Was there an order for things? Should she maybe stop thinking about it so much?

Still holding her skirt, Andre pushed his hands around her thighs and ran his fingers along the lines of her underwear while he kissed the front of her thighs. Marsha moaned and nearly fell over, and Andre returned with a sound she’d never heard anyone make, much less a man enjoying her thighs. Leaning on the counter with one arm for support, she unapologetically wrapped his hair around her fingers and pulled him up just a little to soothe the fire that he’d created. She was immediately thankful she did.

He walked her over as best as he could, still crouched down, until her back was against the bar counter between the entryway and living room. When he heard her back touch the counter, he slipped each forefinger under the band of her underwear and ran his fingers along each side of her ass where it met her thigh. It created a wave of heat through her belly and she pushed her hips forward toward his face. He didn’t argue. With the fingers of one hand still wrapped in his hair, she pulled his lips to her body. Andre nuzzled her between her legs for a second, and then dipped his head down and crawled under her bunched up skirt and gave her a kiss.

Marsha yelped. It was a completely helpless sound, and she knew it. She knew that it gave her away as someone who hadn’t done this in far too long, but she didn’t care. And in fact, it seemed to drive Andre crazy. His left hand dropped to his shorts and he massaged his crotch while he kissed her. Soon he was kissing more firmly, and nudging her panties around with his nose between nibbles. There was nothing for Marsha to do at this point other then rock her hips even farther forward and give him the sounds he so obviously wanted.

Andre stood quickly and pulled her toward the bed with both hands, her skirt falling awkwardly around her legs as they walked.

“I don’t know how to—”she was worried this was some sort of signal that it was her turn to do something. But before she could say anything, he laid her back onto the bed, with himself on top of her. Seeing no reason why it wouldn’t be allowed, Marsha pulled his shirt up while he kissed her mouth. She grunted and moaned with her lips apart, his tongue swishing in and out of it methodically. His back felt amazing under her fingers, and when he slid down toward the bottom of the bed, she held on to his shirt like her life depended on it. Apparently, he took the cue and unbuttoned the top buttons on his way to his previous kissing spot. Andre slid out of his shirt in one expert move and sat upright on his knees for a moment, hands rested on his own thighs. He let out a big sigh, which made his abs contract at first, and she nearly exploded. He looked like he was straight out of a magazine. A hot, sweaty magazine who was about to sink back down in between her legs. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but she was pretty sure she was the luckiest girl on earth.

To her surprise, he just sat there and smiled for a moment at her.

“Thank you,” he said, dipping his head toward her and closing his eyes briefly. Marsha melted; he was thanking her for allowing him to love her. And it was the most beautiful gesture in the world.

“Thank
you
.” She returned with a labored nod of the head. Andre pulled up her skirt and bent down toward her body. Marsha’s hips lifted off the bed and he kissed her again. He didn’t stay long, and grunted as he pushed away from her. She continued to look at the ceiling, panting for air, when she felt her panties being slid all the way down. He did it so slowly, it hurt; she ached for him to be close to her at all times.

Andre cupped her knees in his perfect hands and spread her legs apart, so she closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember ever having been this turned on before, and her hips had taken to swaying back and forth on their own. Hopefully he took this as a good sign and not a bad sign, though he wasn’t touching her. Just before she was going to open her eyes, she felt his bare chest lay down on her blouse and his hands wrap around each side of her waist. Her neck arched upward and a wave of a warm feeling washed all the way down her spine as he pulled up her top and took her breast in his hand. He was breathing heavily, which spiked her senses even more, and she felt bad for a fleeting moment about how amazing she was letting herself feel.

In one movement, Andre expertly lifted her skirt up and away and pressed himself against her. He waited there for a moment, gently touching himself to her again and again. Her belly was on fire, but she didn’t dare ask for more than he was willing to give. Once he parted their lips, he kissed her nose and looked into her eyes.

“
Thaaaaank you,
” he whispered as he entered her, groaning as he pressed further inside.

Marsha moaned loudly, so loudly that she thought someone might hear her, but she couldn’t possibly care. Her back arched and she clenched at his back as it arched to pull himself away again.

“No, no,” she said unthinkingly. She didn’t want him to go so soon, though it seemed an unreasonable thing to think. His eyes closed and he touched his chin to his shoulder, shuddering. He pressed firmly back inside her, with more force this time, and her back arched again. Again and again, he danced in front of her like this, methodically listening for her to signal that she was pleased, and returning her signals with growls of his own, until her breathing started to change.

She was not even aware it had happened; he’d been going so steadily, for what seemed like ages, stopping only long enough to breathe through his nose as if he were trying to focus. Once her breathing sped up, though, she was a goner. It didn’t matter how many times he stopped to regroup, the fire rolled through her stomach and down through her thighs violently.

“
Oh my Godddd. I’m. I think—
” her body wouldn’t let her stop. She wanted to stop and wait for him, to signal him somehow that she was about to finish the race without him, but she couldn’t form complete sentences. He could not either, apparently, and moved inside of her more quickly, crouching down and pointing himself up toward the ceiling every few movements. It was amazing. The most amazing thing she could ever remember feeling.

“Oh no!” she yipped, her back snapping into a firm arch, a hot wave rumbling through her middle. Her hips vibrated fiercely, and she clenched his back, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. Andre obliged her and didn’t break the kiss even to speak. His breathing gave him away, heavy breath coursing rapidly across her face. Somehow, she knew that he was close because
she
was close. And she was not disappointed. He fell into her mouth as he gave her all of himself, their voices mixing together in a beautiful song that only spurred them each on, until eventually he pressed himself into her one last time, his mouth resting on her neck.

Andre allowed his knees to buckle underneath him, and he kissed her gently on the lips before lying down beside her, both their legs hanging off the bed. Without looking, she reached over and took his hand in hers, and they drifted off to sleep.
Grinning.

C H A P T E R  18

I
t had been three weeks since she arrived on the island and she was getting used to spending time with Andre. Every day was a surprise for her and they ended the day watching sunsets and making slow love. Marsha awoke with something that surprised her. More the fact that she noticed it, was what surprised her. When she rolled out of bed, she noticed that she had more movement in her hips, and her whole body felt more at ease. Easily, she climbed out of bed feeling more refreshed than she had in years, and when she went to pull the covers back up on the bed as she always did, she noticed Andre’s bare back on the other side. Long and lean, he was stretched out like a god, resting from a long day of being fed berries by cherubs. Marsha stopped for a moment to take in the way his back curved. From his neck to just below his right hip was exposed, his legs covered lightly with the sheet. She may never get the chance to see him like this again, and she wanted to savor it a bit, he really was so beautiful. She counted herself lucky that, at her age and stage in life, she could behold a creature as well crafted as her new friend. And no less, one that had given her such pleasure the night before! Just thinking about it made her legs clench and her chest tighten. Quickly she pulled the covers up onto his midsection and headed for the shower.

They were headed somewhere new today, and she wanted to be fresh faced and dressed appropriately. There were legs to be shaved and things to be tended to before he woke up and wanted to head out, especially if she were to be fortunate enough to have him again tonight. The thought made her giggle.

Before she’d gotten all the conditioner washed from her hair, two strong arms wrapped around her waist in the shower. Andre kissed her shoulder as she ran her face under the water, and while she was rinsing it off, he pulled her hair around her neck and held it in place for her. It was a sweet gesture that felt so natural for him to do that Marsha almost didn’t notice. She spun around to face him while she wiped the water from her eyes and when she did, he ran his hands along the small of her back, up and down.

“So I thought we’d hit
Malecon
today, what do you think about that?” he asked, as if it weren’t the first time they were standing naked together in the shower. Marsha breathed in his presence, warmed by the level of comfort she always felt around him, and searched for the right words to convey that she would go anywhere with him, and do anything that he wanted.

“Sounds lovely,” was all that came out.

“Are you done or do you still need a few minutes?”

“Oh, I’m all done. I snuck in while you were sleeping and did most everything.”

Andre kissed her on the nose and squeezed her sides before reaching out for a towel. How could he know all the right ways to touch her? She felt safe when she was near him, there was a safety to be herself like she’d never felt before. And it was perfect.

The water hissed to a halt and Andre wrapped the first towel around Marsha, carefully lifting her hair and wringing it out. He hadn’t wanted anything more than to be present with her, to talk to her. And what amazed Marsha was that she didn’t feel that sense of pressure that, just because he had climbed into the shower with her, he would suddenly want to make love. He’d just wanted to be near her while they discussed their plans for the day, and that was something she could get used to.

Crawling into the shower with no intent other than to be near someone was a beautiful gesture, and probably one she should’ve been doing all along. After having kicked herself for losing her sexuality over the years, she finished toweling off and dressed quickly, without paying much more attention to Andre. He was probably getting ready, as well.

***

Malecon
was in the heart of Puerto Vallarta, in the historic center of the most beautiful place she’d ever been. It was right on the seashore and, like everything else she’d seen, took her breath away. There couldn’t be a more perfect place to have breakfast.

The early morning sun made the trees cast a shadow along the boardwalk so that it looked like something off a postcard or a beach movie. Every few feet there was a long palm tree shadow to step across. The water was on one side of the trees and before them was a long stretch of perfectly manicured pavement full of people walking and bicycling and holding hands. They walked past a section that had four giant stone arches overlooking the water, and dozens of seagulls flocked all around them. A bit of Marsha’s old self surfaced as they walked by, because all she could think of was the birds pooping on her. Andre laughed when she mentioned what her sour face was for and they scurried quickly past the birds.

All along their walk were nestled beautiful sculptures, and Andre informed her that they did, in fact, call this area a Sculpture Walk. Her favorite was the one of a couple, relaxing quietly next to each other, sitting as close as young lovers. It looked as though the faceless couple were secure in themselves, and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company and found safety in the other. She looked at it for quite a while before moving on. Andre simply held her hand without saying a word while she took it in.

“Oh…look at this one. This one I love.” Marsha pointed in front of them and dragged Andre toward a greenish colored sculpture. He trailed along behind her like a kid at Disney World, eager to see what she thought of the piece in front of her.

“I want to see this through your eyes, Marsha. Tell me what you think about it.”

“It’s…I don’t know,” she answered. “Give me a moment.”

Andre nodded and looked ahead of them, where a large seashell like sculpture stood on a pedestal. The blues and greens of the piece made it even more whimsical. On top of the shell-like bit sat what Marsha could only describe to herself as a mermaid. It was abstract, for sure, but something about the simplicity of it pulled at her stomach.

“I—I think it’s a mermaid. And she’s beautiful.” The structure had no real definition, per say. It just flowed from one portion to the next in an effortless hook shape. “She looks free. She wants to be swimming.” Marsha paused and pictured herself as the mermaid. “So she swims.”

They stood in front of the mermaid, diving into the ocean stretched out before them, diving into freedom, for what seemed like an eternity. Andre never budged or made a sound, but he did run his fingers through her hair.

Once they turned to walk again, Andre pulled on her arm to stop her, spinning so that they faced each other. He brushed a hair out of her face and looked more deeply into her eyes than he ever had. He aged beyond his years in that moment, his face was wise and kind, his eyes crinkled into a painful smile.

“So swim.”

Tears ran down Marsha’s face and she laughed. “I will. I am!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her, in front of God and everyone. “I am,” she smiled again. “I’m hungry.”

“That-a girl, let’s get some food.”

“There was a vendor back there with pie.” Marsha titled her head backward like a child ready to throw a tantrum. “Let’s have pie for breakfast.”

“Anything you want, my dear! Pie, it is.”

The table was cheap and had a yellow tablecloth spread over it. Pies covered every square inch of it, but the whole set up was very low key. In San Francisco you would have seen pies that didn’t even look half as good, packaged expensively and pretentiously and being sold for forty dollars each. These pies were each on a different plastic container and the table looked more like something you’d see at a linger-longer in a Southern Baptist church. Andre handed money to the man behind the table and they each pointed to a different kind of pie. When the man handed them the slices, Marsha’s was still warm.

“Oh my God!” she yelled. “It’s…..he just made it this morning!” She took a small bite and was pretty sure she’d left her body. It tasted better than she could even picture someone’s grandmother making. The berries in it were soft but had held firm in her mouth, and the crust was buttery and tasted like it might have sour cream in it. It was amazing, and it made her want to move to Puerto Vallarta. Just for this pie. She could eat it every day for breakfast. Job or no job, this pie wasn’t very expensive. She could take all of her savings and live meagerly here, and still have pie every morning.

Andre had chosen a flan-type piece, and ate the whole thing in four bites, tossing his wrapper in the trash while Marsha took her time. “If you don’t mind,” he said when she was about halfway finished, “I’m going to run into this shop quickly. I won’t be long, and you can enjoy the rest of that.”

“Of course,” she mumbled with her mouth full. “Go, go.” And she waved him on with her free hand.

It was probably a bit awkward for her to still be standing in front of the pie table, eating, but she figured that if nothing else, it would be good advertising for his pastries. To see some dorky American standing there in ecstasy over a little slice of heaven for breakfast. The man didn’t seem to even notice that she was still standing there, so she stopped worrying about it.

“Marsha??”

The pit of her stomach turned over about three times at the sound of his voice, like a child who’d just been discovered stealing money from their mother’s wallet. There was simply NO way it could be…

“MARSHA.” It was a forceful accusation now, more than a question, and she nearly choked on her last bite of pie. When she turned around to see Blake standing there, her sandal caught on the leg of the table and caused her to trip, sending the whole table crashing to the street. The pies that weren’t covered lay on the ground in front of them in pieces, and the pies that were covered were in mushy piles in the corners of their containers.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!!” Marsha dropped to her knees to try and pick up the large pieces closest to her, but the man started yelling in Spanish and throwing his hands in the air. She didn’t dare look up and see the look on Blake’s face, so she kept scrambling with her arms out in front of her, scooping up as much pie into her hands as she could and turning to dump it in the trash. She was so embarrassed. And as soon as she tossed the first double handful of crust pieces into the garbage can near them, the baker yelled louder and walked over toward her. She knew he wouldn’t do anything crazy like throw something at her, but she had no idea what he was saying. Should she scoop faster?! Did he want her to go away? Her face reddened under the weight of the people gathered around to try to help…and gawk.

Several women from other tables surrounded them and yelled in Spanish toward her, as well. Eventually, when the space around her was relatively saved from large crumbs, she stood to face Blake, who had his arm around a leggy blonde. The blonde began laughing and touched her lip, signaling that Marsha had leftover pie on her mouth. Horrified, Marsha pulled up her shirt and wiped at her mouth. A streak of blueberry was left on her hem to remind her of it for the rest of the day.

Noticing that his friend was laughing at his wife, Blake elbowed the blonde and cleared his throat twice. It would have been a kind gesture, were his arm not returned immediately to her waist.

Marsha sighed and tried to fight back tears. How could Blake do this to her? She wanted to pounce at him—at her—at both of them. She had no idea what to say, the baker was still yelling and she finally just threw her hands up and started yelling back.

“Sorry, okay! I said I was sorry! It was a friggin’ accident.” She turned to Blake. “I thought you were in Nepal?!”

He laughed out of the side of his mouth and looked at his friend. “Yeah, awkward. Um, I’m not.”

“No shit.” Marsha brushed the rest of the crumbs off her skirt and stood up, poking her arm out toward the blonde to shake her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Marsha.” Marsha forced a fake smile as a gesture that it didn’t bother her.

The girl looked at Blake, who nodded and shrugged his shoulders. He almost had a bit of smugness to him, showing off his prize in front of the woman he was still married to. Blake’s shoulders squared and he watched as the two women shook hands.

“I’m Jessica.” She twirled her hair.

“Of course you are, dear. And if I’m any
Love Guru
at all, I’d peg you at about twenty- five, too.”

“Jessica just graduated college,” Blake chimed in.

Marsha laughed out loud, startling the both of them, saving it with a wide mouthed grin at the end that just seemed to leave them both feeling uncomfortable. “And how long have you two known each other, Jessica? Are you from around here? Or from around…Nepal?”

Jessica looked confused. Blake had probably never even mentioned Nepal, and frankly Marsha thought it was a foolish thing to lie about since it made no difference to her where he was. Only that he wasn’t with her.

“No,” the young girl replied, adjusting the skirt on her yellow sundress. Marsha looked down at her feet, the girl was balancing on three-inch wedges. Apparently, that was all the answer Marsha was going to get on the subject so she turned back to Blake.

“Well, since you’re here, did you have something you wanted to tell me?”

Blake cleared his throat. “Well no—I just…”