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Hello Dahlia Ch. 01

By: OlderButtWiser



I have been a nomad for most of my life. I am a project manager for a medium-sized international construction company based in the Midwest United States. The company is based there, but I spent very little time there. In the past 20 years I have been home for perhaps two or three of those years.

I spent two years building a paper plant in Indonesia; 18 months building a solid waste treatment facility in Vietnam; almost five years on a series of natural gas processing plants in Nigeria; two years on a wastewater treatment plant in Serbia, and more than three years on a housing development in Equatorial Guinea. 

There were more, but I won't bore you with my knowledge of third world geography. Suffice it to say there was very little time to have a relationship, let alone raise a family. The fear of disease in disease-ridden countries made even one-night stands undesirable.

A project manager who can get things done in the most difficult circumstances is paid quite handsomely, and I am one of those. I always get the most difficult or fucked up projects. Since most of my expenses are paid, I accumulated a significant bank account over the years. A couple of years ago, when I celebrated my 54th birthday, I decided that it was time to slow down and spend some of my hard-earned money. I flew to the main office to meet with the company owner to tell him that when I finished my current project near Bangkok, I was going to retire and enjoy life. A few days later, I was back in Thailand wrapping up construction of a water treatment plant and looking forward to spending time on a lake trying to catch fish (but not really caring if I did or didn't). 

One day, a couple weeks after I returned to Thailand, the owner of the company showed up at the job site. He told me that he had a project on the brink of failure and that he would regard it as a personal favor if I postponed my retirement long enough to salvage it. It was in Mexico and should take less than two years to complete. He would pay me $1.5 million (about 50% more than my regular salary) to complete it, with a $250,000 bonus if I got it done within 18 months (when the grace period on the loan expired). I asked him when he wanted me there, and he told me that immediately was not soon enough. We shook hands and I briefed my assistant, anointed him as my replacement, packed my bags and traveled to Mexico for the job that would be my last.

It took 22 hours to travel from Bangkok to Monterrey, Mexico (Bangkok to Tokyo to Houston to Monterrey). On the plane I read the project file and realized that I should have demanded more money. The project was tied up in legal red tape because the contracts were not properly drawn and there was no clear title to the land, yet construction was well underway. Contractors were getting paid standby rates to sit on their asses and do nothing. All this combined to make the project woefully behind schedule.

As soon as I dropped my luggage in the hotel, I took a shower and then called the Mexican law firm representing our company and asked if I could come in right away. When I arrived at the office, I was taken to a conference room. A few minutes later, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen walked into the room and into my life. She introduced herself as Dahlia Rivera Lada, shook my hand and offered me her cheek for a kiss, a traditional Mexican greeting between men and women. 

She appeared to be in her early-thirties, dressed in a conservative suit with a skirt that came just above the knee and was slit about four inches up the back. Her high-heal shoes made her long legs look great. Under the her jacket, she wore a cream colored silk top that showed enough cleavage to create interest, but not enough to be considered unprofessional.

Other than showing off her cleavage, her attire camouflaged her figure, but it could not hide her face...her face was incredible. She was certainly like no Mexicana I had ever met: blonde hair, high cheekbones and the bluest eyes I have ever seen. Her smile was absolutely radiant. She was about 5 foot 11 inches, but least four inches of her height came from the sexy high-heal shoes she wore.

I gathered my composure and introduced myself. She spoke English with just a hint of an accent. I complimented her on her command of English and she explained that she grew up in California, so she learned English at an early age. She took a seat on the opposite side of the table from me and we got down to business and poured through the contracts. Although I speak and read Spanish, the documents were in "legalese" Spanish and they could have been written in Russian for all I understood.

Dahlia, came around the table, and sat to my right. I tried to read the contracts and she tried to help me understand the complex language, but I had a hard time focusing because her perfume was intoxicating. Even though we kept a respectable distance I could still feel her nearness. Whenever I turned to look at her, or she reached across me to point out something in the documents, her blouse would gap and I could see her white frilly bra and the tops of her milky white breasts.

We eventually got through the contract, but it was after 8:30 and we were the only ones left in the office. I was starving and tired (I had been up more than 30 hours), but had no idea where or what to eat. More importantly, I did not want to end our meeting.

"Dahlia, do you want to get something to eat? Something fast and light?"

"David, this is Mexico...nothing is fast and light, but I know of a place you might like."

We ended up at a small restaurant near the office. During dinner, I discovered an excellent beer call Sol, ate some very good Mexican food (tacos in Mexico are quite different than tacos in the States), and engaged in some very good conversation.

She asked me about my family.

"I've never been married", I told her. "A long time ago I came close, but my life style strains even the strongest relationships. It certainly makes building one impossible. So I live parenthood vicariously through my sister's kids. How about you?"

"I've been married six years and have one son...four years old."

"Well, come on," I said. "You must have pictures."

I have never known a woman that does not carry pictures of her children. I have also known that the way to a woman's heart is through her children. Dahlia was no exception. She showed me more than a dozen photos of her and her husband and son. I had to admit, little Juan Carlos was pretty cute.

I saw something in the pictures that told me something was wrong. In all the pictures of just her and Juan Carlos, she smiled broadly and seemed very happy. Whenever her husband was in the picture, she looked different; there was a sadness in her eyes that was unmistakable.

"What does your husband do?"

"He is a cardiologist here in Monterrey. He is quite successful and has his own clinic." Even those words seemed strained and practiced. She may have been married, but she was not happy.

After about an hour, and despite my best effort to stay awake, I had to go to bed. Dahlia offered to drive me to my hotel. 

I told her I needed to rent a car to go to the jobsite the next day to see for myself what was happening. She said that she had never been there and offered to drive me. If she had been a man, or if this were any other country, I would have thought that this lawyer was trying to increase billable hours, but the thought of spending another day with Dahlia made it alright, even if she did bill me.

As we said goodnight, I kissed her on the cheek. Her smooth skin and the scent of her perfume filled my head. I did not want the moment to end.

When I got to my room, I stripped off my cloths and got into a bed for the first time in nearly two days. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, and started to dream of Dahlia. The dream was as vivid as a movie.

In my dream, she picked me up at 8:00 in the morning, but instead of going to the site, she took me to her home. I had never seen it before, but I seemed to know all about it. I studied the personal photos, which included dozens of the two of us in various parts of the world.

She came out of the kitchen with coffee and set the tray on the table. She reached up and kissed me as passionately as I have ever been kissed; her lips were soft and tasted of strawberries. Our tongues met and danced as I reached down to her ass and pulled her to me, my ever hardening cock pressing against her.

Suddenly, she was lying on her stomach on the bed, wearing nothing but white thong panties, and I was messaging her back. As I moved my hands down to her waist, she lifted up as though it was an invitation to remove her panties.

As I slid them down her legs, she rolled over and said, "Make love to me."

Now I was naked and I moved up her body, kissing her tummy, tits, throat, neck, ears and lips. I slid down slightly and took a waiting nipple into my mouth.

She reached down, took my cock in her hand and...

...and that is when I woke up. I looked at the clock on the night stand: 3:14 AM. There was no way I should be awake, but a combination of the jet lag, the dream and the thoughts of a day with Dahlia were preventing sleep from returning. I pulled out my computer and went to a couple of my favorite porn sites and jacked off, thinking that maybe it would relax me, but it only made me more alert.

Finally, I outlasted the night as the sun began to brighten the sky over the mountains to the east of the city and then finally rose over the crest. I got into the shower and stood for a long time under the steaming deluge of water. 

I dressed in my standard work apparel...jeans, work boots, a dress shirt and tie... and waited for Dahlia in the lobby of the hotel. She arrived right on time, and I jumped into the passenger side of her Jeep Liberty. I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She wore a short jean skirt which was hiked up nearly to her thighs as she sat in the driver's seat. Her tight, dressy, red tee shirt clung to every curve. I could see that she was wearing a bra, but her nipples still pushed through the fabric and were subtly on display. I thought she was beautiful the day before, but that morning she proved that she was incredibly sexy as well. My cock began to stiffen again.

She put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot. We had about a 90 minute drive to the job site. We started by talking business, but soon we were sharing personal details of our lives.

She told me that she had dual citizenship; she was born in California and lived there until she was 18. After she graduated from high school near San Diego, she moved back to Mexico to go to college. She spent her final year of college in Paris and then returned to Monterrey to attend law school. 

She told me that her father was worried about her being in Mexico by herself, so he asked a friend of the family to look out for her. Little did he know that the family friend, 20 years her senior, would sweep her off her feet and they would eventually get married.

The marriage was rocky from the start, and had she not become pregnant, she would have left Javier (her husband) a few years ago.

She did not have the classic Mexican complexion (dark skin, brown eyes and black hair) so I asked her about her heritage. She told me that both her parents were of German decent. They were part of the Mennonite community near Chihuahua until they left the group to become more independent. They immigrated to California where her father picked tomatoes and her mother worked as a seamstress. They saved their money and soon her father had a nice little landscaping business in San Diego. There was not enough money for her to go to college in the States, so she came back to Mexico.

I told her that my life was one of moving from one depressing third world country to another, eating bad food and drinking bad water and associating with bad people. No wife, no kids and no real life of my own.

She stopped me. "Wait a minute. It seems you have insulted both my country and me in one sentence."

I really felt like a bigot. "Oh no," I replied. "The only reason I came to Mexico for this project was that it assuredly is not third world and I am getting paid a lot of money. As for the people, I guess I have to find out about them for myself."

"Well, maybe I can convince you that we Mexicans are a fun-loving and passionate people."

With that she repositioned herself in the driver's seat, which caused her skirt to ride up even higher. I could occasionally catch a glimpse of her crotch, covered by red satin, a color that matched her shirt.

I made a show of looking at the scenery, but in my mind I was turning over whether she was flirting with me, or whether I was imagining things. 

When we got to the job site, there was very little activity. Where there should have been more than 300 people working, I could only count about 20. I talked to my construction supervisor and found that because of the land dispute, we were prevented from doing any work except where there were no land issues.

Then I talked to the representative of the client while Dahlia translated when I could not understand what he was saying. It took about five minutes to figure out that he did not have a fucking clue about anything, and that he was the guy that was screwing up the project. I got an immediate sense that this was a problem could be solved with a couple hundred thousand pesos.

The first words that a person learns in a new language are the curse words. I tried to yell at the guy, but my Spanish vocabulary of curse words was not good enough to make an impact. This is when I learned that Dahlia was not afraid of confrontation. 

Dahlia managed to cut loose with every Spanish profanity I knew and several that I did not. The egotistical SOB who was screwing up this job and looking for money to do it right, cowered in front of this stunningly beautiful woman with a killer body.

When we first arrived at the job site, everyone wanted to be near this sexy woman. After about an hour, everyone wanted to be as far away as possible. She was my kind of woman.

After a few hours, we headed back to Monterrey. During the drive back, we talked a little about business but mainly got to know each other. I told her that this was my last job before I retired, and that I may do some consulting, but that I will be done moving from job to job.

"Retire!" she exclaimed. "You can't be old enough to retire!"

"Well, not now, but by the time I finish this job, I will be 56 years old. I have worked all my life for others and now it is time to build a life for myself."

"My God, you are older than my husband!! I would never have guessed that. You seem so much younger."

"Hey, if you keep saying things like that, this old man might try to show you how young you make him feel!!"

After a few moments, she replied, "Well, that might be fun." 

I did not know what to make of that statement, either, so I let it pass. Too soon we arrived at my hotel. She asked me if she could change clothes in my room because she had a meeting later. I agreed immediately, and she grabbed a small bag and a hanger with clothes similar to what she was wearing yesterday when we met: very professional and very conservative.

When we arrived at my room, I snapped on the light and opened the bathroom door. She went in and closed the door, but not completely. Through a series of reflections in the mirror in the bathroom and one in the living area, I could catch occasional glimpses of her as she changed clothes. 

My first glimpse came after she had slipped out of the jean skirt and tee shirt. She passed into my line of sight wearing nothing but a red bra and matching thong. The contrast was striking, given her light skin tones. She turned and I could see that the tiny fabric in back disappeared into the crack of her ass; and oh what an ass it was! It was toned, muscular and proportioned just right. It was an ass that could crack walnuts.

She disappeared from view again and when I saw her next, she was nude. Her tits were not as large as the bra she wore made them look. I would say that they were on the small side of a C-Cup. They were firm and I saw no sag. Her nipples were firm with dark, medium sized areolas as background for her nipples.

I also confirmed that she was a natural blond. Her pubic hair was full and untrimmed. (I personally like it shaved or at least closely trimmed. It makes it easier to eat pussy, which is something I really enjoy. But, given the overall appearance of Dahlia, I could become accustomed to a wild bush.)

She disappeared behind the door again and when she reappeared, she was wearing a very lacey white bra and matching panties. A minute later, she came out of the bathroom professionally and conservatively dressed in a light colored floral print dress that appeared to wrap around her and tie at the side.

She held up a pair of stockings and asked if she could sit on the bed to put them on "There just isn't room in that tiny bathroom." She sat on the bed, put her heel on the edge and slipped the silky stockings onto her delicate feet. She raised her leg as she slid the first one up to her thigh; the dress slid to the side, exposing both her leg and the white panties. She did the same with the other stocking. 

She put her stockings on with a flare and expertise I have only seen in the movies; no hint of uneasiness or embarrassment. She slipped on her shoes, kissed me lightly on the lips and was off to her afternoon appointment. I stood at the door for several moments and let the thoughts and visuals of today burn into my memory.

I was still jet lagged, and did not get much sleep the previous night, so I laid down to rest. It was not long before I drifted off to sleep with Dahlia in my thoughts. When I awoke, it was just starting to get dark and I could not get the sight of her naked body and the seductive way she put on her stockings just a couple of hours ago. 

My hardening cock was once again aching for attention. This time I did not need to look at porn; the vision of Dahlia was all I needed for a gratifying orgasm.

The days and weeks passed as the project started to come together. I got myself a decent apartment, bought a pickup and finally got a feel for my new job.

I met with Dahlia three or four times a week, and we had dinner at least once a week. Together we resolved the contract issues and I even negotiated a little more money for the job, based on some very simple change orders that the client requested.

As the situation improved, our relationship moved from professional to personal as we spent a great deal of time talking about our hopes and dreams. We were quickly becoming friends. To get to know someone, I have always used a technique of asking personal questions. "Tell me about the first person you had a crush on. What was the worse punishment your father ever did to you? If you could travel to country in the world for a month, where would you go?"

Whenever our conversations got too intense and unsettling for her, she would break the tension by asking me some very personal questions: "Do I enjoy anal sex? (Not really); Do I like women to be shaved or natural? (Shaved); Do I like getting and receiving oral sex? (Absolutely); Do I like rough sex or tender sex? (It depends on the situation); Have I ever been with more than one woman at a time? (No, but if you want to arrange something...)"

She was truly an intriguing woman.

One day I asked her if she missed anything about the USA. She told me that she missed outdoor barbeques. I decided that I missed a good barbeque, too, so I planned to have one for a select group of people from the site, a couple of subcontractors, my accountant and, of course, Dahlia. I smoked ribs and a huge beef brisket, made some Texas Baked Beans (with Thai spice, something I picked up on my past job), corn on the cob, and Cole slaw. I think everyone was quite surprised that I could cook, but the real surprise was mine after all the guests had gone home.


Hello Dahlia Ch. 01



Dahlia stayed behind to help clean up. I did not expect her to do that, but I was glad, because I did not get to spend much time with her. As always, she was dressed casually, but conservatively. She wore shorts that came to mid thigh, a green T shirt, and a blouse that was unbuttoned, but tied at the waist. 

When everything was cleaned up I slumped on the couch. "That was a pretty good time. Did you have fun?"

She said, "Yes, I did. I am glad I came". She walked over to a cooler and grabbed two bottles of Sol Beer and a plate of limes. She offered me a bottle and sat on the coffee table directly opposite me. The look of sadness that was common in recent weeks was in her eyes, greater than I had ever seen it before.

"Dahlia, what's wrong?"

With that simple question, the dam that was holding her emotions in check for the past months burst, and I realized that the hard façade she wore was as fragile as an eggshell.

She told me that she was not happy with her life. Her husband was emotionally and physically abusive. He believed that her career was secondary and that anything he did for his job was okay, but anything she did for hers was destroying her family and made her an unfit parent. The nature of being a lawyer in Mexico meant that the hours were long: often until 7:30 and as late as 11:00 when there was a looming deadline. He resented every minute he had to spend time taking care of their son. 

She told me that her husband came off like a saint when they were with other people or when it was just the three of them, but as soon as they were alone together, he was demeaning, insulting and he made her feel insignificant.

She also told me that he had several affairs with women in his office and once he gave her a STD. In six years, she had never cheated, but he accused her of giving HIM the STD. She quickly added that she was clean and now makes him use a condom, although they have not had sex in months.

"Why do you stay with him? You are beautiful and smart and any man would be proud to be with you."

"Thank you, but I do not believe in divorce; I vowed to stay with him through good times and bad. There have been more bad times then I expected, but if it were it not for him, she would not have Juan Carlos."

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, and I could only imagine how wonderful a person she would be if the veil of sadness was lifted and her inhibitions eliminated.

The tears flowed. I think she felt trapped in a life that many women simply accept. They believe that happiness is not something to which they are entitled. I reached over and took her hands in mine. There was very little that I could say at that moment to make her feel better. As soon as I touched her, she got off the coffee table and sat on the couch. She laid her head on my shoulder and sobbed. I drew her as close to me as possible and tried to comfort her. Minutes passed. Finally she picked up her head and sort of cried and laughed at he same time. 

"I am so sorry that you had to see me cry like a baby. I don't know what came over me."

And I don't know what came over me. I leaned down and kissed her tear soaked cheeks. She responded by kissing me gently on the lips. There was a pause, as we looked into each other's eyes. As I leaned in to kiss her lips again, her mouth opened and we kissed powerfully and sensuously. Our tongues met and entwined. I pulled her close to me as we embraced and explored each other's body through our clothes. The kisses became more intense and deeper. 

Then, as quickly as it happened, she pushed me away. She got up, grabbed her things, kissed me on the cheek and was out the door.

I sat on the couch and said, out loud to myself, "What the fuck just happened here?" It was a phrase I repeated to myself several times over the course of the evening...What the fuck DID happen here?

A couple of hours later, my phone rang, and it was Dahlia. Her voice had the coolness and detachment of the attorney I met several months ago. Her voice did not betray that we had been in a passionate embrace just a couple of hours before. "I just wanted to call and tell you what a wonderful time I had. The food was excellent. Thank you."

She hung up and I stared at the phone..."What the fuck IS happening here?"

Two weeks passed, and I only met with Dahlia three or four times and it was all business. She cancelled two of our regularly scheduled weekly dinners. I was convinced that I was run over by a combination of female hormones and bad timing. I made the best of it, however, since I had a job to do and had a CEO, CFO and group of investors who were interested in results and were not interested in the problems of a Mexican attorney, so I turned my full effort towards finishing the job.

I was confident enough that the project was advancing at a pace that would allow me to go to the home office to give an in-person briefing to the company board and then to the lenders who financed the project. The end of the grace period on the construction loan was less than a year away; everyone was concerned about the status of the project. (And I was concerned about the $250,000 bonus I would earn by finishing before the expiration of the grace period.)

On Saturday morning, three weeks after my barbeque, I called Dahlia to let her know that I was heading to the States to give a report to the home office. I told her that I would be gone for a couple of weeks. I was very surprised by her reaction, especially given the coolness of our relationship over the past few of weeks. She was very upset that I was leaving.

A few minutes after I hung up the phone, there was a knock on my door and when I opened it, Dahlia was there. She was dressed in a light-weight skirt and top. I was only wearing a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts and a tee-shirt. She looked very sexy until I noticed that she had been crying.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

She rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Oh, David, I just realized what you mean to me. I don't know how I can last two weeks without seeing you. I don't know what I will do."

"I'm sorry, but I am really confused. You have barely been civil to me since I tried to comfort you after the barbeque. Now, you come to my door and tell me you cannot stand being apart."

"I am so sorry about the way I acted. It is just that what happened was so unexpected. I felt so safe in your arms, and then when we kissed, I realized I was in very dangerous territory. I knew that I wanted you, but I also knew that it was so wrong."

I led her to my living room. Instead of sitting on the sofa, I sat on one of my bar stools. This brought me down to her height, and I reached out, pulled her to me and put my arms around her. I held her for a long time as she cried. I could feel her tears making my shirt damp. When her breathing evened out, I pulled away slightly, and looked her in the eyes.

She looked back, with sadness written all over her face. 

"Dahlia, I am so sorry for what you are going through. I know that you need to figure this out for yourself, but I will be there for you."

I gently kissed her on her lips. Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me again...and again. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. I felt her tongue push against my lips. I pulled away and asked if this is what she wanted. I did not want a repeat of three weeks ago.

She responded by kissing me again, her mouth open while our tongues danced together. The kiss became more and more passionate. She moved as closely to me as she could and when that was apparently not close enough, she climbed onto my lap as I sat on the stool, with one leg on either side of mine, and straddled me. I knew that she could feel my erection and I was certain I could feel the heat of her sex. I was finally holding her close to me and was no longer concerned about propriety or professionalism. I did not want this moment to end.

Her hands wondered across my back. Even through the material of my shirt her touch sent shivers through me. Her movement caused her skirt to hike up around her waist and saw a very small thong. I massaged the naked cheeks of her ass as her kisses became more fevered. 

My body responded and I continued to get harder...much harder. She reached down and tugged at the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Her fingers wandered across my back as she lightly raked her fingernails against my skin.

I reciprocated and pulled her top over her head. She was wearing a white bra with small lavender flowers. The tops of her breasts were literally pouring out from the inadequate garment. I knew, however, that this was an optical illusion. Her breasts were not small, but were smaller than the bra made them look.

I noticed that her bra fastened in front. I reached up and released the catch. As her breasts sprung forth, I could literally feel the heat. Her nipples were hard. I leaned forward and took her left nipple in my mouth and lightly sucked. She threw her head back and twisted to her left, presenting me with right breast. I continued to suck her tit as I massaged her ass, moving my hands to her asshole and pussy. She got off my lap, reached under her skirt, pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. My hands returned to her ass. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized I had unencumbered access to her most intimate regions.

I brought my hands around her hips, so my thumbs met at what I expected to be her bush. I was surprised when, instead of hair, I encountered a smooth, totally shaved slit. Obviously she shaved since she changed clothes in my room.

My confusion and shock must have shown on my face.

"Surprise! Remember the first or second day you were here and I changed clothes in your room? I knew that you could see me. I had never done anything like that before. Then, a few weeks ago I asked you if you liked a hairy or shaved pussy. You told me you like your women to be smooth, so I shaved the next day. It has been smooth ever since. Do you approve?"

"Yes!!" I said. "I love it."

Then, abruptly, she took my face in her hands and looked deeply into my eyes. "David, I am sorry, but even though I shaved to make you happy, and as much as much as I want it, I am not sure I can make love to you; not while my husband and I are together. I don't expect you to understand, because I don't understand either."

"Dahlia, I want to make love to you, too, but only when the time is right. I can wait."

"No, you don't understand. I don't want to wait. Just because we cannot make love in the traditional way, doesn't mean I do not want to be with you. I want you to do everything my husband won't do for me. I want to do to you what my husband refuses to let me do for him. I want you to eat my pussy and I want to suck your cock without feeling that I am a whore. I want you to stick your finger up my ass. I want you to make me scream. I want you to shoot your load on my tits and into my mouth. Can you live with that until the time is right for use to make love?

I responded by picking her up, cradling her bare ass in my hands and setting her up on the counter. I sat on the stool with her naked, cleanly shaved pussy was at eye level.

"Okay", I said, "Tell me what I can do for you."

"Take your clothes off...and mine"

I stood up and removed my shorts, and then pulled her skirt over her head. For the first time, we were naked in each other's presence. Our hands began exploring the others body; slowly and gently, even the deeply private parts that, despite our desires, we had kept hidden from each other until now.

I kissed her deeply. The feel of her body against mine caused my heart to flutter and I knew she could feel my physical reaction. Then I lightly kissed her face, neck, chest and breasts. Her hands guided my head to where she wanted me to go; down to her tummy, then even lower where I lingered, enjoying the intimacy. 

Her pussy was smooth with no stubble. If she shaved (and did not wax) she shaved this morning. This means she shaved after she got my call, or shaved before in anticipation of coming to see me. Either way, I viewed it as a gift to me: one to be treasured. 

I lightly kissed her pussy and savored the sweet smell of vanilla combined with sexual excitement. I dipped my tongue and tasted the sweet juices that were just beginning to flow. Her breathing became more ragged as she enjoyed, maybe for the first time, having her pussy eaten by someone who both desired and respected her.

She pulled me away from the feast and brought my face to hers. We kissed: deeply, intensely, passionately and lovingly. She tasted her own juices off my tongue.

I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I carried her into the bedroom. My erect cock bobbed and smacked her open asshole with every step. As I sat her down on the edge of the bed and stood up, she put her arms around my waist, with her head level with my painfully erect cock. She kissed and fondled me. She took my cock into her mouth and slowly licked and sucked it. 

She stopped for a second. "I have always wanted to do this, but Javier made me stop. He said I was acting like a whore."

She obviously was not very experienced at giving a blow job, but that was okay. I did not want it to lead to an orgasm. I just wanted to appreciate and enjoy this expression of affection and intimacy. 

After a few minutes I could tell she was tiring, so I gently pushed her onto the bed and climbed beside her. I reassured her that I would do nothing that she did not want. 

I rolled over, pulling her with me so she was on top of me. The feeling of the full weight of her naked body was like nothing I have ever felt before. As we kissed I had full access to caress her ass and gently pressed my forefinger against the rosebud of her asshole and fingered her pussy.

She slid down my body, kissing my chest, and belly and continued the blow job that I had interrupted moments before. She read my reactions and adjusted her actions to give me maximum pleasure. Although she was inexperienced, she learned very quickly. She brought me to the brink and then backed off. She fondled my balls. She licked the underside of my cock. She ran her fingernail from my asshole to the base of my scrotum, and then began to suck again.

Soon I felt the climax building. I thought of other things to try to delay the inevitable. I told her I was about to come. She moved up and pressed the tip of my cock against her tit as I shot my first rope. This action was almost like a cock-ring, making my ejaculation more intense. Cum squirted on her breasts, her neck and even on the side of her face. Jacking off was nothing like this, and as I savored my post-climatic high, I saw cum hanging from her tits and on her chest. It was a sensual sight that made me hard almost immediately.

She rolled over onto her back. 

"Please eat my pussy."

She did not need to ask me twice. I got between her legs and spread them to make room for me to work what I hoped would be magic. I put my arms under her legs so I could elevate them and so I could reach her tits, which still glistened with semen. 

Her outer lips were tight and hid her clitoral hood and other treasures. As I kissed her inner thighs, she pulled up her knees and spread them even more. Her pussy opened up like a magnificent flower, blooming only for me. I continued to kiss and nibble on her inner thighs, moving slowly around her outer lips to her mons. I avoided her inner lips and kissed her pelvis and down one leg. I repeated the process with the other leg.

Her body squirmed and she tried to position her pussy under my mouth. I continued the slow pace; I savored the moment I had dreamed about and masturbated over for several months. I reached up and found her left nipple. I twisted it gently between my thumb and forefinger to search for what made her feel good.

Finally, I indulged in the feast that lay before me. Her clitoris came out from behind its hood. It pulsated and begged to be touched. I knew that it was probably quite sensitive, so I blew on it and lightly flicked it gently with my tongue. The reaction was immediate and her actions urged me on. I became more aggressive and sucked and nibbled on her clit. Her passions rose and after several minutes, she let out a scream and clamped my face against her pussy as it gushed juices and as she came with a powerful orgasm.

Gradually, her grip on my head relaxed. I gently kissed her pussy and lapped her remaining juices. She convulsed a couple of times with a series of mini-orgasms. I finally crawled up and lay next to her. She rolled over and lay across me as my semen was drying on her chest and breasts.

"Oh my God, that was wonderful! I have never felt those sensations in my life." She kissed me as she fondled my cock and balls.

As we lay on the bed recovering from our games, we got a little silly. I continued the exploration of her body with my fingers; I discovered a ticklish spot just below her waist above her hips. She raked her finger nails across my chest and tweaked my nipples. 

Then she looked at my alarm clock, jumped up and told me she had to go. Her husband would be home in an hour or so. 

"God, can I take a shower? I can't go home smelling of sex, with your cum dripping off me, regardless of how great it was."

"Of course you can use the shower. Can I get in with you?"

"No, I really need to get going."

I was disappointed and a little hurt that our moment was over. I stayed in bed, still naked and waited for her to come out of the bathroom. When she walked out, her hair was still damp but she looked absolutely gorgeous. She leaned over and sucked my cock for about two seconds and said "I promise to come back and finish that before you head back to the States."

With that, she was out the door. I lay there, with my hands behind my head staring at the ceiling. I was right about one thing; Dahlia was definitely a passionate woman, but for a second time she jumped up and left as soon as we reached a new plateau. (I double checked to make sure she didn't leave a couple thousand Pesos on the dresser. That's kind of how I felt.)

It was certainly good sex, although I missed total intimacy of intercourse. If she was true to her word, then I would have to be satisfied with oral sex for an undetermined period. Would it be enough to quench the thirst I had for Dahlia? After one day with her, I wanted more...I wanted it all.

I have always been realistic, however, and understood that what I wanted was rarely what I got. If a blow job was all I could expect for the next few weeks or months... well, I guess I could live with that.

The overhead fan blew gently across my naked body. Dahlia's scent of vanilla mixed with musky passion still filled the room as I drifted off to sleep. As always, Dahlia entered my dreams. When I awoke at about 6:00, her scent was gone. When I got up and walked naked into the living room to find my shorts, I also found Dahlia's thong, lying exactly where she stepped out of it. I picked it up and brought it to my face. The delicate aroma filled my head as I tightly pressed her panties to my face and inhaled deeply.

My hand went to my cock, which was reacting to this discovery. It was already hard and dripping with pre-cum as I jacked off while standing in the middle of my living room. I shot my load on the cool ceramic tile, donned my shorts, put her thong in my pocket and cleaned up my little mess.

On Sunday, I did not see her because she had family obligations. I held a rare Sunday project meeting to hand out assignments for the next two weeks. (I had planned on holding the meeting on Saturday, but I was otherwise engaged.)

On Monday morning I woke up and took a shower. My flight to Houston was not until 1:30 in the afternoon, so I had a few hours before I had to leave. I put on my robe and was making breakfast when, at about 8:00, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Dahlia there, dressed for work. The day felt better already.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 01



"Well, good morning," I said. "This is a surprise!"

"I'm sorry, I should have called first."

"Oh no, anytime I can see your face and hear your voice it is a good day."

"Well, I was on my way to work and the car just seemed to drive itself over here."

"Don't ever get rid of that car! I am very glad you are here. Please come in."

"What time do you go to the airport?" she asked

"I figured on leaving here about noon."

"Can I stay with you until it is time for you to leave?"

"Of course, but won't people get suspicious if you are gone half a day?"

"No, I told Javier and my office that I had an appointment in Saltillo."

Then I thought of the thong sitting on my night stand, which she left on Saturday when she visited. I got it and came out of the room twirling it on my finger. "Did you forget these the other day?" 

"No, I didn't. I left them here for you. I figured they may be the last pair you get."

Confusion crossed my face until she took off her jacket and lifted the front of her business suit, exposing the tops of her nylon stockings and her freshly shaved and very naked pussy. "I haven't decided if I will ever wear panties again. The ride home the other day was very nice with the breeze blowing up my skirt and caressing my pussy. In fact, it felt so good that I fingered myself and had an orgasm before I got home. I would have never even thought of doing that a few weeks ago. Suddenly I feel so free."

With that, she came towards me and unknotted my robe and pressed herself against my naked body. She knelt down and took my cock into her mouth. "I promised you that I would finish this before you left." 

Then she stood up and removed her blouse, bra and skirt. Since she had no panties on, she stood before me in cream colored thigh-high nylons and shoes with four-inch heals. She slid my robe off my shoulders and once again, my skin was electrified by the contact of our naked bodies.

I kissed her gently on the lips and then with more passion. She reached down and grabbed my cock and gently jacked it until it reached unbelievable hardness.

We moved to the bedroom and I lay down on my back. She crawled between my legs and took my cock into her mouth. After a few moments of kissing and sucking, she suddenly stopped and looked at me with my cock nestled on the side of her face.

"Remember I told you that I could not give myself to you as long as my husband and I were together? Well, I moved into the guest bedroom on Saturday night. It may not mean much to anyone else, but to me it means that we are no longer together."

"I understand."

"David, can we make love until it is time for you to go? When you leave here today I want you to know that there is someone waiting for you when you return."

With those words, Dahlia had decided the time had come to bring our relationship to the next level. She crawled back up and we kissed once more. Sometime, during the kiss, she reached down and guided my cock into her waiting pussy. I thrust my hips to get more penetration, but she had other ideas. 

She sat up and took all of my cock into her body. She supported herself by placing her hands behind her and ground her pelvis into mine. I have never felt such a sensation as every millimeter of my cock was in contact with her pussy. The combination of her gyrations and the depth of my penetration stimulated my body to its very core. I felt her in my bowels as well as my genitals.

Her actions were having a telling affect on her, as well. For perhaps the first time in a long time she was in complete control of a sexual situation and of her own pleasure. I decided to let her continue to derive her own satisfaction. For now, I was content to be her masturbatory tool.

I reached up and pulled lightly in her nipples. She threw her head back with her eyes closed. The image of her shaved and smooth pelvis grinding against me, her tits, with rigid nipples, swaying in time to her movements, caused me to feel the very early beginnings of an intense orgasm.

The physical sensations and reaction to her movements intensified the passion within me. I craved her and wanted nothing more than to be inside her. The release of months of sexual tension and innuendo; the satisfaction of being together, perfectly and totally, magnified the feelings of fulfillment and trust and love.

Not a word as spoken. There were no verbalizations: only the heavy breathing of her exertion as I experienced the exhilaration of the wordless communication between us. This was not just sex; it was the physical manifestation of the emotional closeness and friendship that build over that past few months.

The passion in us rose to a crescendo as simultaneously we gave in to the physical and emotional release. She collapsed on my chest until her breathing steadied. We held each other for a long time. We laughed. I think tears welled up in her eyes (I know they did in mine). 

Then, as before, we got a little silly. I tickled her hips, which drew an immediate reaction. She discovered that the soles of my feet were extremely sensitive and took full advantage of the fact. The horse-play caused her pussy to drip the mixture of our juices. I knew she was on birth control, but in the vague recesses of my mind I was sorry. It would have been the perfect time for me to finally create a progeny. We were both totally relaxed and totally at ease with each other.

The clock was advancing toward noon. We made the best of the time we had and made love two more times. Each time was more gentle and loving than the time before. We tried new things. I asked her what she liked and what she wanted and I did my best to give it to her.

Finally, it was time to get ready. This time we both got in the shower. I was able to get hard, but after cumming three times in little less than three hours, there was no way I was going to make the "four-pete". Instead, I entered her from behind and slowly pumped until she had a small little orgasm.

We got out of the shower and dried each other off. As I got dressed and finished packing, she was lying on the bed watching me. There was sadness in her eyes, but it was not the same sadness that showed there since I met her some six months ago. This was not the sadness of someone who had no control over their life, but the sadness of someone being temporarily separated from a lover.

As I closed the door to the apartment, she was lying on the bed, naked with her hair still damp. 

Instead of being anxious to get back to the States, I suddenly became homesick for my new home: Mexico.



Hello Dahlia Ch. 02



PROLOGUE

Thank you all for the positive response Chapter 1 received. I did get one email that was critical of the story because the protagonist, David, had unprotected sex with Dahlia after she admitted that her husband had given her a STD several years ago. The anonymous critic was correct. In this age of HIV and treatment resistant STD's this activity was extremely foolish and dangerous.

Let me assure you that this story is a fantasy. In the fantasy world I created, older, overweight men can attract beautiful women; and in this fantasy world, AIDS and STD's do not exist. Nevertheless, wouldn't it be great if someday, the fantasy could really become a reality.

I hope you enjoy this installment.

HELLO DAHLIA...CHAPTER 2

What a weekend it was! My head was still spinning over the events of the past 72 hours. Sitting on an airplane from Monterrey, Mexico to Houston to Milwaukee on Monday afternoon, I tried to make sense of what had happened and how I should deal with it.

Dahlia Rivera was the Mexican attorney for a project for which I was the project manager. In the six months since I started the project, we had become very good friends, but our relationship had been strained for a few of weeks after we engaged in a short but passionate kissing session after a party I threw for friends and coworkers. She abruptly left my apartment and was quite distant.

Then on Saturday, I called Dahlia and told her that I was leaving for the USA for a couple of weeks to tend to some company and personal business. 

She seemed very upset that I was leaving and within a half an hour, she was at my door, and within 15 minutes after that, we were naked and I was eating her pussy and she was sucking my cock. She told me she could not have intercourse with me while she was still with her husband, but that did not prevent us from engaging in oral sex and the other things her husband would not do for her and what he would not let her do for him. It seemed to be a strange rationalization, but I was not going to try to figure it out. Then she promised that she would "give herself completely" to me after she left her husband.

Little did I know what leaving her husband meant and how soon it would happen. She came over on Monday morning as I was getting ready to leave for the airport and announced that she had left her husband, meaning she moved into the guest room. To me it was a matter of semantics, and another way to rationalize her behavior. 

We spent the morning making love. When I left for the airport, she was lying on my bed, naked after our shower together. My last site of her was of her damp hair and shaved pussy lying spread eagle on my bed.

I got to Milwaukee a little after 8:00 PM and headed straight to my hotel. It had been less than ten hours since I had sex with Dahlia in the shower, but I was thirsting for her already. What had I gotten myself into?

I ordered room service and went straight to bed. Normally I would have called someone to come over, but not that night; I had a few things to work out in my head.

I woke up on Tuesday morning and went straight to the corporate office. I saw Susan at the front desk where she has been since I started with the company. She would have been my first call when I arrived in town and the "someone" I would have invited to my room. For the past six years, whenever I came to town, we would have dinner, go dancing and then head back to my hotel for desert.

Susan was a few years younger than I was. (It seems that everyone is younger than me, except for the people driving 30 miles per hour in the fast lane.) She was divorced with two kids: a boy and a girl. The boy was 25 and was recently married and worked as a news reporter at WGN in Chicago. Susan was a little upset when she realized that at any time, she was only nine months away from being a grandmother. The girl was 20 and enrolled at the University of Wisconsin studying actuarial science. 

Susan was truly an empty nester but did not go out much to take advantage of that fact. We were very good friends, slept together whenever I came into town, and sex between us was great, but we decided years ago that a romantic relationship was not in the cards.

Soon after we started sleeping together, she suggested that I stay with her when I was in town and forgo a hotel. While it was tempting, and our arrangement was the worst kept secret in the company, we both decided that any sort of entanglement or expectation would not be conducive to the sort of "relationship" we had: so, I checked into a hotel during my visits to the home office, but spent most of my time with her.

When I arrived at the office, she rose and came around the desk to greet me. She knew that I was coming to town, so I knew that under the short, thin cotton summer dress, she had a freshly shaved pussy and was wearing no undergarments except for a bra, which she needed to keep her ample bosoms in place. Even with a plain support bra, her cleavage was unbelievably deep. More than once my cock was nestled in that great crevasse 

The difference between Susan and Dahlia was striking. Aside from the 15-year difference in their ages, their physical appearance was also very different. 

While Dahlia was a blue-eyed blond Mexicana of German heritage, Susan was a brown-eyed, olive skinned Italian. Where Dahlia used "Wonder Bra" technology to enhance her medium sized breasts, Susan had no need for such tricks. Dahlia dressed quite conservatively, and Susan liked to show off her body...short skirts and low necklines. 

Their personalities were also very different. Dahlia was very conservative, and some would call Susan a floozy.

The one thing they had in common, however was that both were incredibly smart, and this intelligence contributed as much to their attractiveness as their physical characteristics.

I kissed her on lightly on the lips and noticed that her perfume was the same as Dahlia's. She held my hand and brought it down to her crotch, where I could feel the cleft of her pussy through the material of her dress.

I felt a little quiver in my cock as it wanted to come out and play, but I had other things to do, so I broke the kiss and just asked quietly, "Dinner later?"

She agreed and added, "With desert."

I went into the office that I generally us during my visits. Dennis Marley, the CEO, walked in before I even sat down. 

Dennis quickly disposed of the pleasantries. "Hi. It's good to see you again. What's up with the project?" 

"It's good to see you, too. Don't you ever read my progress reports?"

"Sometimes, but I don't have time for that shit, and generally that is what field reports are: ass-covering shit. Just tell me what the fuck is going on down there."

"Hey if you don't like my style, I will start my retirement today and you can have the keys to the crappy field office you set up for me." (As it turned out, those words were prophetic, but more on that later.)

Although it was all good natured, anyone new to the company, walking down the hall at that moment would have been shocked at the way we addressed each other. We worked together for eight years and had known each other for ten more, long enough that we both knew how to give the other a ration of shit while making newer employees cower in the corner.

I told him about the changes that we made and that I was confident the project would be completed well before the deadline. I also told him that our attorneys found several ways to get extensions, based on the client's performance, but it should not be necessary.

"Well," the Dennis remarked, "Based on the legal fees you have been racking up, I would hope you're getting laid, too."

I nearly spit my coffee with that remark. There is no way anyone could know about Dahlia and me, since the whole thing just happened in the past couple of days, but it was obvious to me that nothing could be kept secret, and even if you could, a good rumor was almost better than a secret. I knew I would have to be very careful.

We talked for another hour or so and made a schedule for my visit. On Thursday, we would fly to Washington DC to visit the government agency that was financing the project in Mexico. (For those of you interested in detail, the agency is called the Overseas Private Investment Corporation or OPIC for short). The next week, I would take vacation time and go to Minnesota to visit my sister and play the prodigal uncle for a few days.

After a working lunch, I met with the CFO to go over budgets and expenses and generally to allay his fears about the project. I got him to agree to streamline the payment process for our vendors and contractors and to give me a few more dollars in the petty cash fund, which we used for payoffs and the Friday Afternoon open bar that was becoming a hit with all the contractors. When we wrapped up our meeting, it was close to 5:00, and I could see that Susan was doing busy-work until I was finished. 

After she gathered her stuff, we set off for the elevator and to a little bar that we both like. Typical of a Wisconsin bar, it had every beer you could possibly want, as long as it was brewed in Wisconsin. (The most exotic beer they served was Leinenkugel Red, so they kept things basic.)

We sat in a corner and ordered some snacks. Susan started the conversation:

"What happened to you last night, David? I was ready to fuck the bed post, but you didn't call."

"Well, I was really beat," I lied. "I was just going to lie down for a minute and went to sleep."

She seemed to accept my answer. "Okay, then you should be well rested and ready to take care of my needs tonight." We clicked glasses. "It's good to have you back", she toasted. "It's good to be back," I replied.

After a couple of beers and some "pigs in a blanket" (mini-wieners wrapped in pastry, a staple for a Wisconsin Happy Hour), we headed out to dinner. Milwaukee was originally settled by Germans, so there are dozens of great German restaurants in the city. We picked one near the lake, not too far from my hotel and enjoyed an excellent dinner.

We talked about what had been happening since the last time we were together when I came into town to announce my retirement more than six months ago. She told me that she had met a guy and had been dating, but that it was nothing serious; he was younger than she was and that bothered her. When I called her a cougar, she laughed and said that I could call her any type of pussycat I wanted, as long as I took care of the pussy part.

She brought me up to date on her kids. Her son received a promotion and was a weekend news anchor in Chicago. "Its funny", she said, "the only time I see him is on the 10:00 news." His schedule meant that the rare weekend trips he and his wife made from Chicago to Milwaukee were even rarer because of his work schedule.

Her daughter still showed up on holidays, but her chosen field was so competitive that only the top 10% was hired, and even fewer ended up making decent money, so she dedicated everything to studying. I had to give the kid credit. When I first met her, she was a spoiled 13-year-old brat who thought it a personal insult to have to work for anything. She really did some growing up if she was that dedicated to her career.

We left the restaurant and decided to walk off the heavy German food. We were only about a block from Lake Michigan, so we took a stroll along the lakeshore. We held hands like an old married couple, which is sort of what we were: content with our lives: comfortable but not excited.

"How about you?" she asked. "How do you like working in Mexico?"

"It's not bad, once I got our shit together. The last project manager let so much go to hell. There were so many problems that could have easily been resolved if they would have been handled in the beginning, instead of waiting 'til they festered. And the contract was a fucked up mess." 

"Well thank goodness you have a good lawyer...So are you sleeping with her?"

I stopped and turned to her. "Christ, what is it with you people? Dennis implied the same thing today. What on earth gives you the idea that I am sleeping with her or anyone else?"

"David, give me credit for having some brains. I have known you for eight years, and I keep the books. I know when your expense reports are real and when they are inflated. I know how you spend money, so it is easy to see when your spending habits change. I also know that you usually do not go out to dinner to entertain as often as you have in the past few months." 

I replied lamely, "I wouldn't say inflated. It is just that dinner meetings are important in Mexico, and with all the legal issues it was necessary."

She was just getting started. "You can sell that crap to someone who's buying. I know that you hate lawyers. You always told me that they just get in the way, but I have never seen as many billable hours for legal services as you are racking up, and the lawyer happens to be female. So, come on, Pal, time to come clean to Susan."

We walked for a few seconds while I contemplated what to say next. 

"Well", she said impatiently.

I knew that I had no choice but to be honest. Susan was right: my habits had changed and she noticed. I knew that she would not tell anyone, and even if she did tell, all the expenses were documented and were legitimate. Anything else I did was no ones' business. However, I knew her too long enough to know that I could not to lie to her. She would be able to tell in a minute.

"And all this time I thought I was being clever. If you would have asked me about this a week ago, I could have looked you straight in the eye and said honestly, 'no, I am not sleeping with her.' But today I have quite a different answer."

"No shit? When did this all happen?"

"Actually, it happened yesterday morning."

"Holy Shit! You flew in yesterday. What did you do, nail her on the way to the airport?"

"Well, you might say that." With that, I told her everything, starting with my attraction to her the first time we met, the dinners, the make out session a few weeks ago and the oral sex we had on Saturday. Then I told her everything about Dahlia's visit on Monday morning before I left for the airport. It felt very good to talk about it, even though it was with a woman whose bed I would share in a couple of hours.

We came to a park bench and sat for a while. I never truly appreciated Susan until just this evening. She allowed me to talk through my situation without a hint of jealousy or judgment. 

"So," she asked, "Are you in love with her?"

I really don't know...well no, not in love. She is more of a friend like you. Physically, the two of you are very different, but you are both extremely smart and extremely beautiful. And, since I am an aging bachelor, I figure I should take advantage of every opportunity to sleep with a beautiful woman."

"Good answer. Another friend with benefits," she replied. "Well, the friend you are with right now has been looking forward to a good reaming for several days. Think you can handle it, or did your new friend in Mexico sap all your strength?"

"Gee, I don't know, but I would like to give it a go."

She took my hand and placed it on her thigh. She guided it up her leg to her shaved and very naked pussy. "I am horny as hell," she said. "Do you want to eat this here, or do you want it to go?"

I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. As our tongues met, and as I gentle massaged her pussy in a way that she liked, I realized that I had very strong feelings for Susan that went beyond "friends with benefits". She was the only person, including Dahlia, with whom I could talk openly about things like this. I thought about how we came to be so close.

I first met Susan more than eight years ago when I came to work for Dennis. She was still married, but she was going through a very rough time with her husband. 

I took her out to lunch one day soon after I started. Dennis was the boss, but in reality, I knew that Susan ran the company. Since I did not want to piss her off, I tried to find out how she wanted things done, and to let her know what I needed in the field and find out how the company could provide it. Just like with Dahlia eight years later, we hit it off right away and spent as much time discussing our personal lives as we did discussing business.

I only got back to Milwaukee a few times during the next couple of years, but each time we went out to dinner and shared secrets. When I was in the field, we communicated by email, and she kept me filled in on the progress of her separation from her husband. The next time I came into town and we got together for dinner she told me that she was finally divorced.

We did not sleep together that night, although I think we both wanted to. The time was not right. She was still emotionally vulnerable. Even though her marriage had effectively ended months before, she had to come to terms with the finality of it all.

I left to go back to a job in Kenya and offered what emotional support I could by email. Over next weeks, our messages got more and more personal and finally, sexually explicit.

A couple months later, I came back into town and, as we walked to dinner, I kissed her for the first time. (By kiss, I mean the deep, passionate kiss that clears the head of doubt and misgiving and sets the participants on the path that can seldom be reversed.)

We never got to dinner that night. We went straight to my hotel and within a couple of minutes, we were in my room, pealing off our clothes.

That night we did not make love, we had sex. It was wild, crazy, and passionate, but at the end of the evening when she got dressed to go home, I realized I still did not know what she liked or disliked. Our sexual activity was very selfish and self-centered (for both of us).

The next day in the office things were a little strained. We were both uncomfortable as we tried to figure out where things went from there. Finally, I asked her out to dinner again, saying that I still owed it to her.

Over dinner, we cleared the air about what we wanted out of life. She told me that she was enjoying her freedom and did not want to be tied down, at least not yet. I told her that because of what I do, I couldn't contribute to a relationship all that is required and cannot expect her to put her life on hold while I work in some jungle somewhere. We concluded that being lovers did not mean being committed: one thing was not mutually INCLUSIVE of the other. We decided we could be lovers without being exclusively committed to one another. I encouraged her to seek out someone that could give her all the things she wanted out of life; the things her husband would not give.

That night, when I took Susan home, she invited me in for a drink. This time we made love. We explored each other's bodies and took the time to feel what the other needed and wanted. It was a much different and a much more satisfying experience.

So began a six-year odyssey of discovery. At 48 years old, I was learning the lessons of what women liked. At first I was a little embarrassed that I did not already know how to give pleasure to a woman, but soon I discovered that learning to focus on what your partner likes makes things a lot better, and a lot more fun for her and for me...a real win-win situation. If I knew this, years ago, maybe I would not be a life-long bachelor.

So, six years later we sat on the park bench with my hand on her naked pussy, I knew how use my thumb to gently caress the top of her slit and her clitoral hood and how to move my forefinger down until I put gentle upward pressure on her asshole. (I knew this because she told me.) After a few moments, we stood and walked arm and arm to her car and drove to her house.

When we arrived, I poured two snifters of brandy, put on a Chris Botti CD and we sat on her couch to continue our conversation. We did not talk about Dahlia or work. We just made small talk, but small talk was the greatest aphrodisiac to Susan. I listened to her voice and looked into her eyes. I occasionally reached out and moved a stray brunet hair from her face. I caressed her cheek with the backs of my fingers. I ran my fingers through her silky smooth hair. 




Hello Dahlia Ch. 02



Soon she took my glass, placed them both on the table in front of the sofa and looked at me: looked into me. I took her face in my hands and brought my lips gently to hers.

She talked about fucking the bedpost and getting reamed, but I knew that such talk was Susan's way of sounding like a tough broad to insulate herself from the hurt and disappoint that other men put her through. I knew that she wanted closeness and intimacy more than she wanted to be mounted and fucked. That night, however, I intended on doing both.

As we kissed, I worked on the buttons of her dress. There had to be 25 or 30 of them from the collar to the hem, which when she sat, came to mid-thigh, exposing most of her legs. Her legs were silky smooth, tanned, toned and long. She had the most delicate ankles and feet I had ever seen outside the orient. Although she was 48 years old, she had legs and feet that any 20-year-old would envy.

Button after button opened; each one revealing more of the cleavage created by her large breasts, as they struggled to get out of her sexy, but substantial bra. I paused and gently ran my hand over them, all the while locked in a passionate kiss and embrace.

While I was slowly getting her undressed, she was not idle. She had her hand on the zipper of my jeans. She worked it down and unfastened my belt. 

I worked on more of the buttons. Without breaking our kiss, I slid the lightweight fabric off her shoulders and then loosened the clasp of her bra, which exposed her wonderfully full and sensitive breasts to me for the first time in six months. 

She did the same with my shirt (although there were significantly fewer buttons) and soon we were both topless.

As we held each other, the sensation of her naked breasts against my chest was electrifying. We continued our embrace, but stood up to shed the rest of our clothes. We embraced again, standing between her sofa and coffee table. 

Susan was tall: about 5'11", and only about four inches shorter than I was. It made it very easy to kiss her, and when she wore heals, her height made her the perfect dancing partner.

As we swayed to the background music provided by the CD, I leaned down and nibbled on her right nipple. As she swayed to the music so did her breasts. 

Let me say at this point in the story that I do not know how large her breasts were. I don't know if they were 38C, 38D or 38DD. That information was just not that important for me. What was important to me is that they were of a size and shape that gave me, and men like me, immediate erections. They were soft and heavy. They sagged slightly, which belied her otherwise youthful appearance. Her areolas were not large, as is normally the case with breasts the size of Susan's. Her nipples were not large either, but were extremely sensitive and got hard very easily. Just brushing my chest hair against them would cause a reaction. For this reason, I had to be careful, because if she was not sufficiently turned on, and I touched her too roughly (which she liked when she was excited) it would almost be painful to her.

Her breasts were incongruous with the rest of her body. Susan had very long legs and a very hard, perfectly proportioned ass. She had slim hips; not boyish, but slim and well proportioned. Her stomach was flat.

Passions were rising, as were my cock, and, of course, her nipples. We moved to the bedroom, hand and hand.

I sat on the edge of the bed and she stood facing me, between my legs. I used the backs of my fingers to caress her skin. From the sides of her breasts, I came down her sides and brought them together just below her navel. Then I went up over her belly button and between her breasts. Only after doing this several times did I touch either her pussy or her tits. Some times, I would change things up and come down between her breasts with one hand and down her back with the other. With one hand I would gently press against her clitoral hood while with the other, I would press a finger against her asshole. I gently took her right nipple in my mouth and pulled lightly. She responded favorably.

After a few minutes of this, Susan slowly went down to her knees, kissing my chest, then my belly and finally taking my cock into her mouth while she fondled my balls and raked her fingernails under my scrotum. 

I do not have a large cock; hell, if I cared to do the research, I might find out I don't even have an average sized one. This does not bother me in the least because it makes life (and fucking) so much easier. I don't have to worry about whether a woman can take me all because I know she can. The feeling of having every millimeter inside a warm tight pussy sends tingles to the very root of my manhood. When she gives me a blowjob, Susan can take me all in and suck, tongue and nibble on it without choking.

As she took me into her mouth, I laid back and enjoyed the moment. Susan gave wonderful blowjobs, and this one was no exception. 

I nudged her a bit, had her climb onto the bed, and then mount my face in a 69 position. I loved eating her pussy, especially when she was on top of me and she could move her body into the positions that gave her the most pleasure.

Susan's inner lips were large. Unlike Dahlia's tight and compact pussy, Susan's was the pussy of a 48 year-old woman. As I tried to pleasure Susan as she was pleasuring me, it occurred to me that I was comparing the pussies of two different women with whom I slept within the past 36 hours. 

As I continued to suck on her lips and lightly touch her clit, I bought my hands around and pressed my fingers into her pussy. Once my fingers were lubricated with her juices and my saliva, I spread the cheeks of her ass and slowly pushed my right forefinger into her ass. At the same time, I aggressively sucked on her clit. The affect was as immediate as it was expected. She stopped sucking my cock, pressed her pussy against my face, and focused on the sensations coursing through her own body. I continued to suck, nibble and bite on her clit until she finally finished coming and let me up for air. 

Although I wanted her to refocus her attention on my throbbing cock, I also wanted to extend the evening as long as possible. (Given that I was 54 years old and had cum three times the day before, I was not certain that I could survive, much less repeat that performance with Susan.)

We lay side by side for a time. She gently fondled and jacked my cock, while I traced circles around her areoles and nipples. I remained hard, but the intimacy was more important to me than cumming. 

It was at that moment that another realization came to me. With Dahlia, there was never a satisfying ending to our intimacy. She had bolted out of my apartment, because she was angry with herself, or because her husband was due home, or I had to rush off to the airport. We had never just lain together and gathered our thoughts. Dahlia and I had never done what Susan and I were doing now: exploring each other's bodies and enjoying the closeness. 

This is what I really enjoyed about Susan...nothing was rushed and we had time.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Susan was once again giving me one of her patented blowjobs. It felt great, but a blowjob is not what I wanted just then. It was time to fuck.

I pulled at her to get her to come to the head of the bed. She lay on her back causing her tits to lie flat against her chest. Her legs were spread, displaying one of the erotic things I had ever seen. Her full lips were very prominent on her smooth pussy, and the way she held her legs was an invitation for me to enter her.

I laid over her, supported by my knees and one arm. I used my free hand to work my cock along her slit, between her lips and against her clit. Her pussy was extremely wet and I slid easily into her. In a single motion, I pushed in to the hilt and she let out a sigh and moaned, "Oh God that feels good. It has been so long, I was beginning to wonder if it still worked."

Slowly I picked up the pace. Instead of in-and-out, I moved along her body to make sure that every inch of my cock made contact with her clit. (This was one of Susan's favorite techniques.) Still resting on one elbow, I gently inserted my left forefinger into her ass and pressed against the membrane separating her colon from her vagina. I could feel my cock moving inside her. I pressed my finger hard against the membrane which brought my cock in greater contacted with her clitoris. 

I wanted her to come at least one more time before I unloaded and almost on cue her breathing got ragged and her vocalizations more intense. Her back arched even under the weight of my body against hers and she let out a low moan. My hand was immediately wet as her juices flowed and soaked the sheets. Her reaction, though always predictable, was never disappointing. As soon as I felt her juices flowing across my hand, I knew that I was not going to hold out much longer.

Though I tried to slow down the pace to extend my pleasure, Susan bucked and rolled under me, demanding and pleading that I keep going. Finally, I reached the point of no return and pumped my load into her. I was surprised at the volume, since I was pretty much emptied out the previous day.

Then, we both went limp. I rolled off Susan and pulled her on top of me. Once again, the feeling of a naked, beautiful woman, lying on top of me was the perfect ending to our lovemaking.

She rolled off me and we spooned, with my right arm under her head, and my hand resting on her left breast, and my left hand cradling her right breast. I did not want to leave, so I asked her if I could spend the night with her. Of course, she agreed. Maybe an encore in the morning would be a great way to start the day.

The sun was streaming though the windows of Susan's bedroom when I awoke. At first I thought I had over-slept, but the sun rises very early in Wisconsin in the summer; it was not yet 6:00. I rolled over to find that I was alone in the massive king sized bed. As I was about to investigate, Susan came into the room with a tray of coffee and pastries.

She wore a pale blue satin robe that came to mid thigh. She had not tied it securely, so her pussy and tits were visible with each step she took.

"I was so glad that you decided to spend the night. What is the special occasion?"

"I felt contented and very comfortable. I figured I could go back to my hotel alone, or I could stay and sleep with you in my arms. It was a very easy decision to make."

She set the tray on the bed and slipped out of her robe. She sat, cross-legged on the bed as we shared breakfast. When the coffee was finished, we jumped into the shower together.

Susan's master bathroom was huge. It had a whirlpool bath and shower. Each could comfortably accommodate two people. The shower was as large as a tub, and had a standard showerhead, but it also had a ceiling that made it feel like standing in the rain. 

We got in and I took the shower gel she used and, with her back to me, wrapped my arms around her and lathered up her breasts, belly and pussy. Her pussy had no hint of a 5:00 shadow. When I mentioned it to her, she told me she had it waxed this time.

"In Milwaukee? Where can you get your pussy waxed in Milwaukee?"

"You can't. I was in Chicago over the weekend visiting my son. His wife and I went together and we both had it done. She was quite hairy, so I can only imagine what he thought when he saw his wife's naked pussy for the first time. I may be a grandmother in about nine months."

When I finished lathering her up, she turned and I started to do her back. She had other ideas and slid her body up and down mine; I was hard again. She took some of the gel in her hands and worked on my balls and cock. She reached between my legs and cleaned my asshole then stuck her finger up my ass and massaged my prostate. I got weak in the knees at the sensation.

"Take me from behind, this time."

She turned and bent over. If the sight of her pussy was exotic and beautiful from the front, the sight of it as she bent over was overwhelming. Her lips were open and invited me to savor the riches within. I felt as hard as I have ever been.

I came up behind her as she bent over and leaned against a ledge. I grabbed her hips and she guided me into her body. I pulled her hips into mine while I thrust into her. Her large tits hung and swayed in synch with my thrusts. My ball sack, hanging low from the temperature in the shower, slapped against her with each thrust. All the while, she used her fingers to stimulate her clitoris. 

The scene was very erotic. It was as though we were fucking in a gentle, warm summer rain. 

I reached around her body with my left arm to remain in control of her, and moved my right hand to play with her tits. Then I brought my hand down to her crotch, dipped my fingers into her pussy and brought them to her lips. She sucked my fingers and tasted herself and me.

Susan was about to come and so was I. She thrust her hips against me and screamed. Were we not in the shower with the water running, I am certain that people in the street could have heard her. All this caused me to begin the now familiar chain of sensations that would lead to my own ejaculation. First, I felt a tightening in my ass, made more intense, I am sure, by the manipulation of my prostate. I felt my balls begin to contract and the familiar feeling at the base of my cock as each thrust brought me closer to release and to relief.

I slowed the pace, moving in millimeters to delay the inevitable. Then almost as a reflex, I thrust into her one last time and emptied my load into her waiting cunt.

As we recovered, she stood and scooped my cum out of her pussy and brought her fingers to her lips and sucked it in. Then, one final kiss as I tasted my own semen when our tongues met.

By this time, it was almost 7:30. We finished our showers and got ready for work. I had a spare clothes stashed at Susan's for just such an emergency. By 8:00, we were out the door and by 8:20, we walked into the office.

As always, Dennis greeted me as soon as I sat down. 

"I am amazed that when you are in town, Susan is always late. I tired to call you at your hotel and then on your cell phone but there was no answer. By the way, in case you were missing it, I found your cell on your desk this morning."

I ignored the insinuation. "She has to pick me up at the hotel and I guess traffic was a little heavier than we thought."

"Yeh, right. We need to talk."

"Sure, what's up?"

"It is better if we talk in my office. Susan, will you get Brian (the CFO) and ask him to join us?"

I sat down on the sofa in his office and he sat in one of the two chairs opposite. 

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Let's wait for Brian."

When Brian entered the room, he was all business. He had the look of someone who was severely constipated. He sat in the chair next to Dennis.

Dennis began. "David, I need to know the absolute truth. Are you having an affair with the company's lawyer in Mexico? This is not prurient curiosity, this is business."

"Business? What the hell does who I do or do not sleep with have anything to do with business?"

"Normally it doesn't, but when we get a fax like that," indicating a paper in Brian's hand, "we need to take it seriously, especially when there is so much on the line down there."

I took the paper from Brian and read. It was on Stationary from the clinic run by Dahlia's husband. It was not in Spanish, but butchered English.

"Your company employs pigs. Dirty Pigs to take another man's wife into his bed and defiles them. I refer to the Pig you employ here named David. He has dirtied my wife and insulted me by his actions. I have proof that he has sex with her and continues up to this moment to make her into a harlot. If he sees her again or if he calls her again, I will make sure he goes to jail. I will make sure your company never works here and your work will stop. Americans think they above the law, but you will stop or I will show you that it is not."

The note was not signed.

Brian said, "David, we have a lot to lose down there. Dennis agreed to pay you more money than I was was comfortable paying to get this job done on time. We are paying you almost a million dollars over the going rate on this job."

He took the fax from my hand. "We are not paying you that kind of money so you can get your rocks off, and we do not need the distraction of this kind of shit. That is why we need to know, 'are you having an affair with this man's wife?'"

I quickly ran my choices through my head. If I admitted what was going on, I would be pulled from the project, lose almost $1.5 million and immediately retire. But what WAS going on? One weekend does not constitute an affair, does it?

If I denied it, on the basis that this was a one-time thing, which at this point it was, then I would be splitting hairs like Bill Clinton did in the 1994, when he asked what "is" is.

I decided that there was too much on the line admit to anything until I had a chance to figure out what was going on.

"Guy's, I have no idea what this guy is talking about. I like this woman...I like her a lot, and I believe we are friends. Yes, we spend a lot of time together; we have to, but that does not mean we are having an affair. This project was so fucked up that I am surprised we are this far along, given the hand I was dealt. This professional has helped us out of the quagmire our so called legal team got us into a couple of years ago." (Brian was one of the "legal team" that got us in the mess. The best defense is a good offense.)

I paused to gather my thoughts. "According to what I have been told by his wife and others, this guy is emotionally and physically abusive..."

Brian interrupted. "Hold on there, we are not the county mental health center. If she has problems, I sympathize, but that does not make it our problem."

"I know. That is not my point. My point is that this guy is off his nut and is fabricating this stuff in his own mind."

Dennis chimed in, "Okay, David. It is your call. What do you want to do?"

"Well, between the Washington trip and my vacation, I won't be back for a couple of weeks. By that time things may calm down a little."

"No, I am not going to let this slide for a couple of weeks. If you think you can salvage it, go back now and get it done. Otherwise I will put someone else in charge of the project."

I knew he was right. "Okay, I will have Susan make the reservations."

Dennis turned to Brian, "Is there anything else?"

"No," Brian replied and left the room.

"David, I don't really care about your love life, as long as it does not affect me or my business. Whether you are or are not having a relationship with this lawyer in Mexico is none of my business unless it affects my business. Your little song and dance just now did not impress me. I have known you long enough to know that you only dance when you are hiding something or not ready to answer truthfully. I believe that there is something to this man's accusations. I don't know and I don't care as long as this company does not get splattered if the shit hits the fan.

"And one more thing," he added. "Susan is also my business because she is a part of my business. If this hurts her, I will take it personally. Are we clear?"

"I would never do anything..."

"Are we clear?"

"Yes, very clear."

"Okay, get on an airplane."

I left Dennis' office and walked down the hall to my own. It had been a long time since I got dressed down like that. Things were quickly spiraling out off control. For the first time in my life, I had two women, about whom I cared, but both had other men trying to protect them. As I continued to my desk, I sensed that everyone knew what was going on: conversations stopped in mid sentence as I walked by and people gave me embarrassed smiles. I was not accustomed to people gossiping about me or feeling sorry for me.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 02



I sat down at my desk and after a couple of moments called Susan on the intercom.

"Can you come back here for a minute?"

"I will be right there. Let me get someone to watch the phones."

In a couple of minutes, she was in my office and closed the door. We never tried anything sexual in the office, so I was not concerned that she would get the wrong idea.

"Susan, I just had an intense conversation with Dennis and Brian..."

"I assume it was about this," she said as she held up the fax.

"Where did you get that?"

"I guess it was on the machine when the first person got here this morning at about 7:00. He read it and made a copy. I'm sorry, but by the time we got in this morning, everyone knew about it." She passed it across my desk. "I think it is the only other copy."

"Jesus Christ, Susan, I am really sorry."

"Not as sorry as you would have been if you hadn't told me about her last night. What did you tell Dennis and Brian?"

"I did the only thing I could do...I denied it. I just hope I didn't screw things up for us.

"David, I hate to be the one to remind you, but there is no 'us'. We are very good friends, but we are lovers of convenience, not commitment. Don't let your concern over me affect the decisions you have to make over the few days."

The fact that she had to tell me this confirmed that our little arrangement was not as unencumbered as I thought. Susan was going to play a big part in my decision. I did not tell her this, but she did not know the depth and breadth of the decisions I had to make.

"Okay... I think," I replied. "So can you get me some tickets back to Monterrey for tomorrow?'

"I am on it."

I spent the next hour or so checking with my crew back in Mexico. I wanted to make sure that "the good Doctor" had not jumped the gun and tried to sabotage anything. Everything was under control.

Susan brought in my flight confirmation. There was no room on Continental, so she had to route me through Dallas on American, which arrived in Monterrey at 8:40 in the evening.

Finally, I called my sister and told her that I would not be coming up to her cabin.

As soon as I hung up, my cell buzzed with a text message. It was from Dahlia. "So sorry about fax from J don't worry nothing changed please call"

I pocketed my cell phone and announced that I was going out for a bit. Susan gave me a rather strange look, but then threw me a kiss as I went out the door. I went down one floor and to the end of the building with a suite of vacant offices. I figured that would give me the greatest privacy as I dialed Dahlia's number.

She picked up on the second ring. "Oh, David, hi!"

"Hello, Dahlia."

"David, I am so sorry for the fax. Javier showed to me and accused me of awful and terrible things."

"I am sorry, too. Are you alright?"

"I will be fine, but what about you. He can call the police and have you arrested."

"Arrested? Arrested for what?"

"For adultery. It is a crime in Mexico."

"I understand that, but how can he prove it?" Then I had a sinking feeling in my gut...she told.

"Javier has ways of knowing things. I don't know how, but he knows."

"No, Dahlia. He suspects. He does not know. He could not know unless he was in the room or you told him. Did you tell him?"

"I did not tell him. Do you think I am stupid? When I moved out of our room, I told him that I did not want to take his abuse anymore and that I know there is someone in the world that would love me. That is all. I have not spoken to him since."

"He may have suspicions, but there is nothing he can prove. Anyway, I will be back tomorrow on the Continental flight from Houston. It gets in at 3:48 in the afternoon."

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea. My truck is at the airport. I will call you when I get in tomorrow."

I intentionally told her the wrong flight information. I decided that I needed to control the flow of information, and that Dahlia did not need to know when I got in. 

During our conversation, it occurred to me that there was one other way that her husband could know about us. 

I called a guy who handled expat security on a job I worked in Indonesia a few years before. He had since branched out and was doing a lot of government contract work. I told him that for the past six months I acted as though everyone was my friend. Now it appeared I had enemies.

He asked me when I was leaving. I told him that I had to be at the airport about 1:00. He told me that he would send me a CARE package with some essential security items by FedEx, so I should have it before I left for the airport. I thanked him and gave him Susan's address and we disconnected.

The next call I made was to my field boss. I really came to trust him over the past six months. I told him when I was coming in and asked him to pick me up at the airport in his personal vehicle. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I figured someone might be watching my truck in the airport parking lot.

I attended to some paperwork, ordered some supplies for the job, and before I knew it, the day was over. I asked Susan if she wanted to go out to dinner. She surprised me when she said no, but quickly smiled when she suggested that I could cook. She also suggested that I stay with her. We could sleep in and then she would take me to the airport.

On the way out, I said my good byes to everyone, and Susan told Dennis that she would be in after dropping me at the airport. Dennis cast me a stern look my way, but wished me luck. Brian already left for the day without saying a word. 

On the way to Susan's house, we stopped at the hotel to check out. I had to pay for the night even though I had not been in the room for two days, but I figured that it would give deniability to any rumors about Susan and me. Not that it really mattered: as I said before, the worst kept secret in the company.

After the hotel, we went to the grocery store. It was too hot to cook out, so we opted for some large prawns with a pasta salad and fresh fruit for dessert.

We got back to the house and changed into something more comfortable. Since comfort was the order of the day, I put on a pair of baggy gym shorts with no underwear and a plain pocket t-shirt.

Susan put on a loose pair of men's cotton gym shorts, an oversized tank top with insanely large armholes and no panties or bra. The sides of her tits were visible and whenever she moved from one side to another, her nipples would be in full view. 

The way she was dressed would give me free and easy access to her tits and pussy. She could be naked for all the coverage (and protection) her clothes provided.

We worked together on dinner. I minced garlic and squeezed lemons for the marinade. I couldn't help but cup her breasts in my hand whenever I passed behind her.

"Hey, you better watch out. You are going to be sucking those tits very soon and I don't want them to taste of garlic."

I sautéed the prawns in garlic and butter, added some fresh parsley topped it off with finely grated parmesan cheese. With the salad and fruit, it was an ideal little summer dinner. 

After we ate, we took our wine into the living room and watched a little TV. Our hands continually drifted over the other's body as we watched one of the endless episodes of "CSI Somewhere or Other".

We finally decided that going to bed would be more stimulating that TV. We stripped off the little clothing we had on and crawled under the sheets. We laid their, side by side and kissed. (When I was in college many years ago, we called it making out.) The kisses were loving, but not deeply passionate. I stroked her hair and occasionally leaned in to suck on her nipples (which did taste of garlic).

My hands went down her back and to her ass, lightly tracing her spine down to her tailbone and beyond.

She ran her hands across my back and lightly kneaded the muscle below my right shoulder. No words were spoken, but suddenly, she rolled on top of me and guided my engorged cock into her pussy. 

She sat up and placed her hands on my thighs for stability. Then she started a slow rocking motion: front to back, left to right and then in circles. The movement caused the head of my penis to move against the walls of her vagina, stimulating me differently than if I controlled the movement. She used her muscles to stoke my shaft.

My orgasm built slowly as I watched her face and the rest of her body sway with her movements. She looked me in the eyes and she knew the right moment to reach behind her, place her hand under her ass and gently pull at my balls and squeezed. 

I burst forth into her and that triggered her own orgasm. Neither orgasm was a major, earthshaking "cosmic" event. Our session was a comfortable and pleasant end to an otherwise hectic day: if only all days could end as well.

Sleep came quickly and deeply. The next morning we slept in and made love one more time. An hour later FedEx delivered a large plastic case: the CARE package from my friend. I gave the contents a quick examination and Susan and I left for the airport. 

Once again, I had to leave a lover to catch an airplane. The deep irony was that I was leaving one lover to meet another.



Hello Dahlia Ch. 03



I am sorry for the delay in getting Chapter 3 out. My computer crashed and, of course, I did not have the story backed up, so I had to start from scratch. You may want to scan chapters 1 and 2 to get back up to speed, although it is not necessary.

The story continues:

It was hard to believe that less than a week had passed since Dahlia (my company's lawyer in Mexico) and I started a sexual relationship. She came to my apartment on a Saturday morning and we had oral sex (she told me that oral sex was all she could give me until she left her husband. She felt that oral sex was not a betrayal of her husband, but intercourse was.) Then on the following Monday, she came to my apartment before I left for the airport, and we spent the morning fucking in the living room, in the bedroom and in the shower.

My last image of her, as I closed the apartment door, was her lying on my bed, naked, with her hair still damp after our last session in the shower. 

I knew in my heart that Mexico was where I wanted to retire. I loved the climate, I loved the standard of living that I could enjoy, and I especially loved the people (or at least one in particular). The only issue was the drug wars and gang killings, but it was no worse than South Central LA or some of the other cities plagued by drug violence. In addition, it was certainly better than some other cities in which I worked: Kandahar, Jakarta and Port Harcourt.

I had a long-time "friend with benefits" in Milwaukee named Susan. We slept together whenever I visited the home office but we both knew that our relationship was one of convenience and nothing more. After knowing Dahlia for six months and being with her for two days, I knew she was someone special and I felt more for her than I had felt for any other woman, including Susan. 

I talked to Susan about Dahlia, and apologized for my "betrayal", but she reminded me that since we did not have a committed relationship, there was nothing to betray. 

I knew what I had to do and vowed to work to make my relationship with Dahlia a long-term one. I would help her leave her psychologically abusive husband and start a new life with me. I wanted to wake up each morning with her by my side. I wanted to start each day by running my fingers across her body while kissing and sucking her nipples to make them hard: to wake her up by quietly sliding between her legs and gently work my tongue through the folds of her pussy until she became aroused and wordlessly enjoyed the attention that I was paying to her. I wanted to give her pleasure and have her know that she was under no obligation to return it, just enjoy it.

On Wednesday, however, my clarity of purpose became clouded, when her husband sent an angry fax to my boss. In it, he accused me of adultery and threatened me with violence if I ever saw his wife again. I nearly lost my job (and about $1.5 million in salary and bonus), but I convinced him that I could salvage the situation. To do that, I had to fly back to Mexico immediately.

I told Dahlia that I would arrive in Monterrey on the American Airlines flight from Dallas at 3:40 PM. In fact, I took the later Continental flight through Houston, which got in at 7:40 PM. I was still not certain if Dahlia told her husband about us and I wanted to come into town without a welcoming committee. I failed to consider how worried Dahlia would get, because as soon as I turned my phone on there were six text messages from her, each expressing a greater level of worry than the one before. 

After we landed, I got my passport stamped, gathered my belongings, cleared customs and waited for Enrique, my field boss and my second in charge, whom I asked to meet me. He pulled up just as I walked out. I threw my luggage in the back seat of his car and we headed for my apartment. 

I owed him an explanation about why I asked him to meet me when he knew I had parked my truck in the long-term parking lot at the airport, but the explanation would have to wait; first, I needed to call Dahlia. I called her cell number and she answered on the second ring.

"David, is everything okay?"

"I am sorry", I said, then made up a lie. "I realized on the plane that I gave you the wrong flight information. There was no room on the American flight so I had to take the Continental. Can you forgive me for making you worry?"

"Now that I know you are safe, it does not matter; I was just so scared that something had happened."

"Let me call you back in a little while. I am with my field boss and I need to talk to him about the job and send him back to the site."

"Okay, but you sound strange. Are you sure there is nothing wrong?" 

"No, nothing is wrong. I will call you when I get settled in."

I hung up and turned to Enrique. "So", I said, "I suppose you are wondering what is going on."

"I did not know if it was any of my business, but yes, I am slightly confused."

I explained the situation as best I could without revealing that I slept with the company's attorney. I told him about the letter and the threat from her husband. Finally, I told him about leaving my truck at the airport in case someone was watching.

Enrique pulled over to the side of the road with a look of sheer terror on his face. "Are you talking about Dr. Javier Villegas?"

"Yeh, I think that is his name. He is a heart surgeon here in town."

"Señor, be very careful. He is a very dangerous man."

"How can that be? He is just a doctor. Maybe he has important friends, but what can he do?"

"Don't you know? He is the doctor for the Zeta. Their leader had a heart problem a couple of years ago and Dr. Villegas took care of him. Since then, he has been paid much money to take care of their soldiers. He has many evil friends."

"The Zetas? Are you talking about the drug cartel? I thought they were north and west of here."

"They are everywhere. Monterrey is a big city. Do you think they would not have interests here?"

Suddenly I was worried. I came into town sure that her husband could do nothing to me, but now I was beginning to think I was being a little too cocky.

On the way home, I asked Enrique to stop at a Telcel Shop (the Mexican cell phone company). I picked up three SIM cards for my phone and an additional phone for Dahlia. I did not want her husband to see my caller ID on her phone and know I was in contact with her. I wanted to talk to her, so if figured that if I could spread our conversations out over three phone numbers, I might actually survive this project.

After I got to my apartment, I opened the case of electronic gear my friend sent me and gave the rooms a quick check to see if there were any wireless recording devices or cameras. The place was bug free, so I sat down on the sofa, opened up a cold bottle of Sol and contemplated where I was in life.

I was 54 years old and falling in love with a 33-year-old Latina who was unlike any woman I had ever met. She had the passion for life and love like other Mexican women. However, unlike others, she had light complexion, blond hair and blue eyes: part of her German-Mennonite heritage. However, a shroud of overwhelming sadness hid all her beauty and passion.

When our sexual relationship started and I watched as I was eating her pussy or as she sucked on my cock, I saw in those moments that the sadness fell away. Then, when she came to visit and we went all the way, she broke free of the sadness that was holding her back. On that day, I knew that I wanted more of her. I no longer wanted to be alone, and I wanted to share my life with her.

To say there were problems in fully exploring a relationship with her would be an understatement. She was an attorney in Mexico. This was where she built her career, so even after I finished the project, I would have to stay in the industrial city of Monterrey if I wanted to be with her. To compound the problem, she was married to an influential doctor who also happened to be associated with one of the most violent drug cartels in all of Mexico. A few days earlier, he issued some idle threats, which now could very well turn out to be real.

If I would have known how things would turn out, I may have handled things differently, but I do not have the benefit of hindsight. No matter what I should have done, the die had been cast. I had a job to do and there was no way to turn back the clock. I met and fell in love with a woman in a complex situation, and there was no going back on that either.

I promised Dahlia that I would call her back. I used one of my new phone numbers to call. It took her a long time to pick up—so long that I was afraid that something was wrong.

Finally, she answered.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"It's David. I got a couple of phones so no one will recognize my number."

"Well it worked, because I did not recognize it. I almost didn't answer."

"I am glad you did. I really missed you. How has it been for you?"

"It's been fine. Javier is very angry, but he will get over it. I am tired of his bullying and intimidation."

I heard her words, but I didn't think things were "fine". 

"Dahlia, are you sure you are okay?" 

With that, she started to sob. "David, I miss you so much and I really need to see you, but I cannot. I look terrible and I don't want you to see me like this, but I really need you now."

"Dahlia, did he hit you?"

There was a pause—a long pause.

"Dahlia...did...he...hit...you?"

"Si, I mean yes, he did. He called me a tramp and a whore. Then he slapped me and punched me."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. He got a phone call and said he would be back in a couple of days to finish this. David I am so scared, but you cannot be involved."

"It is too late for that, I am already involved. Do you think he has anyone watching you?"

"What do you mean? Why would he?"

It occurred to me that despite being a sharp attorney, Dahlia did not have a clue. She had such a wonderful body and mind, but outside the legal world, she was so naïve. Maybe that was what attracted me to her: intelligence and beauty combined with vulnerability. 

"Dahlia, think about it. He regards you as his property. He is going to protect his property. Don't think that just because he is gone, you are safe. It is you who must be careful."

"Oh David, I have made such a mess out of things. What should I do?"

"For now, drive to a clinic and have a doctor look at your injuries. Don't go to one of your husband's clinics. Go to a competitor and get it on record that he injured you. Then go home and sit tight. I will try to figure something out."

As I was about to hang up, I had to tell her one more thing. "Dahlia, I don't know if this is the right time to say it, but I am falling in love with you."

"I don't know if it is the right time, either, but I feel the same way."

"I'm glad. I will call you every day on one of the new numbers I have. Get some rest and have a doctor look at that beautiful face."

"Okay, I will. I miss you, David."

"And I, you. I will talk to you soon."

I hung up the phone, seething with anger. What could make this educated man think for a moment that it was okay to strike the mother of his child? The man was a coward and a bully, hiding behind the weapons of his violent friends, coming out only long enough to slug his wife and terrorize her.

What could I do? I was a guest in Mexico. I learned long ago that trying to impose American standards of justice in a foreign country usually yields indifference and hostility. "You come here and try to tell us right from wrong, while your country fights illegal wars and buys the drugs that make the drug lords so powerful." No, saying that a respected doctor was a bully who was slapping his wife, a woman with whom I was having an affair, would probably not end well.

There had to be another way, but what was it?

I went to bed exhausted but awoke at my regular time of 6:00. I put the coffee on and turned on the local news. More drug violence overnight with 19 dead in Juarez, and ten in Torreón. Things were getting worse and no one could seem to stop the violence.

After breakfast, I called a taxi to take me to the airport to pick up my truck. I was paranoid, and was sure that at least six vehicles were following me. When I arrived, I paid the driver, hopped in my truck and drove to the job site without incident. Not much had changed while I was gone, but it had only been four days.

I decided to call Dahlia and see how she was doing. She sounded remarkably chipper. She told me that her husband called to apologize and said he would be stuck for another couple of days.

Her words were like a knife in my heart. It sounded like a typical battered woman's syndrome. The guy says he is sorry and the woman, for whatever the reason, forgives him. "Is that why you sound so happy: because he apologized to you?"

"No, I am happy because he is going to be out of town for a couple more days. I don't have to look at him or take his abuse."

We talked for a few minutes more. She said that despite all that happened, last weekend was one of the best she ever had. She said that she is just coming down from the high of our time together on Monday. She described the feeling of looking down and seeing my cock slide in and out of her pussy as I took her from behind in the shower. She told me that she has masturbated to that vision several times in the past few days.

"And," she said, "I have not worn panties since that day. I want to make sure nothing gets in the way when the time comes that we can be together again."

Over the next few days, things got back to normal. I talked to Dahlia daily using one of the three phone SIM cards I bought. On Monday, Dahlia got a call from her husband that he would be home on Tuesday, but Tuesday came and went without any sign of him. By Thursday when there was no further word, even I was getting concerned, for fear that he would show up when I least expected it.

The Saturday edition of "El Dario", the local newspaper gave the first hint that something was amiss. The headline proclaimed "Prominent Local Doctor Suspected of Working with Drug Cartel".

I read the article and realized they were talking about Dahlia's husband. I ran out and bought up all the local, regional and national newspapers I could find. The headlines were all similar:

"Local Man Stands Accused of being Medic for Zeta Gang"

"Monterrey Doctor Tied to Drug Cartel"

"Missing Monterrey Physician under Indictment"

I called Dahlia. "Have you seen the papers this morning?"

"No, I have been busy with Juan Carlos. Why?"

"Well, Enrique is under suspicion of being tied to the Zeta Drug Cartel as their on-call doctor. There is a warrant for his arrest."

"Oh, my God! I have been trying him on his cell phone on and off for a couple of days, but he has not even had it turned on. Do you think he is running away?"

"If he is not, he should start thinking about it."

In the week that followed, the headline of every newspaper and the lead story on every local news broadcast told for more arrests and violent clashes between gang members and police. Even the local police commissioner was indicted for taking bribes from the Zetas. 

Then on Friday of that week, six days after the first newspaper article, the lead story was that Dr. Javier Villegas Gomez, respected heart surgeon from Monterrey, was arrested in Juarez by Mexican border police while trying to cross into the United States. Mexican officials were holding him without bail at the Cereso State Prison. 

It seemed that the pressure was off Dahlia because her husband had more important things to worry about. I called her with the news and while she seemed relieved, she seemed a little sad. "What will become of him? He is not strong enough to survive prison."

"Dahlia, everyone makes decisions that affect their lives and the lives of others. Your husband made the decision to put himself and his family at risk. Now he has to pay the consequences."

"In my heart I know all that, but he is the father of my son. How shall I explain it to him?"

"You tell him the truth: that his father made some mistakes and now must pay for them. He may not understand, what is happening or why, but if you lie to him he will not understand that either."

There was a pause on the phone. "Dahlia, can I come to your office this afternoon? I have not seen you in a nearly three weeks. I promise nothing will happen, but I need to talk to you face to face, and I need to conduct some business."

"I don't know. What if they are watching my office?"

"They are not watching you. Your husband is in jail. They have nothing to gain by worrying about you. More to the point, the threats were against me so I am the one who should worry. Can I come by at 2:00?"

"Can you make it 3:00? There will not be as many people around."

"3:00 it is. Do you want me to bring some lunch?"

"That would be nice. I will see you later."

I went to work, but the numbers on my digital watch distracted me as they advanced at a horrendously slow pace. I was excited to see Dahlia, because it had been weeks since we had seen each other in my apartment before this whole thing started.

I have had longer intervals between sexual encounters, but I was horny enough to screw a pile of rocks. It takes a remarkably short time to get accustomed to having a beautiful woman's lips around your cock, the feeling of a tight pussy, and the sensation of lying next to a naked woman, especially when there is an emotional connection. For today, however, I would be content just to be near Dahlia and take in her perfume and her beauty. 

At 1:30, I rushed home, showered and put on a pair of khaki slacks with a green, loose fitting shirt. By 2:30, I was out the door, stopped at a street vendor, picked up some burritos, and headed to Dahlia's office. As I arrived, many of her coworkers were leaving, since most professional offices in Mexico (or Monterrey, at least) close from 3:00 until 6:00 (something Americans know as a siesta).

I arrived just as the receptionist was gathering her things. Like most Mexicanas in a business environment, she wore a uniform with a skirt was a bit too short and a blouse that showed more cleavage than would be acceptable in the USA. The ensemble was finished off with very high heel shoes.

In Spanish I said, "I am here to see Dahlia. Is she in?"

"Señor, we are closing for lunch."

"She is expecting me."

"Un momento, por favor."

She spoke into the phone and when she hung up, told me that Dahlia would see me and to have a seat. She impatiently sat at her desk and waited until Dahlia came down to dismiss her.

Dahlia was dressed very professionally, but in a very lightweight dress that flowed as she walked down the hallway. I could see the shape of her legs as the material clung to them as she moved toward me. I restrained myself from jumping up and taking her in my arms, because, under the circumstances, that might not be a good idea.

Dahlia shook my hand very professionally and coolly and then offered her cheek in a traditional Mexican greeting. I kissed her cheek and she asked me to join her in the conference room. Despite the sexy way she dressed, her demeanor suggested that we were back to a very professional relationship. I feared that the stress of the last three weeks made her lose interest in a relationship with me.

"In here, David. Can I get you anything to drink...water, coffee?"

"Water, please. I brought us some burritos so we can work straight through lunch."

"Okay, great. I will be right back."

While she was gone, I thought about what I had just seen and experienced. Dahlia was as beautiful as ever. Her blond hair touched her shoulders and framed her face. The bruising was nearly all gone, except for a small mark under her left eye, which she tried to hide with makeup.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 03



Her touch, while warm and friendly, also seemed distant and nervous. Was she nervous about me being there, or about the threat that I should stay away? 

She returned after a couple of minutes with a bottle of water, a pile of files and a legal pad. "As long as you are here, I need you to sign some documents for the tax authorities. I had my assistant prepare them when I found out you were coming in today. Please sign each one where I indicated."

There was a tap on the conference room door. Dahlia's assistant, Maria, excused the interruption and told Dahlia, in Spanish, that she was the last one in the office. "Will you be back at 6:00?"

"I don't know," Dahlia replied. I am waiting for a call. I may have to go across town later. If so I will not be in until the morning."

"Okay, do you want me to lock up?"

"I will follow you out and bolt the door."

I heard more conversation and then I heard the door lock. Dahlia walked through the office before coming back to the conference room. She entered and closed the door behind her.

"Everyone is gone. We are alone."

She ran to me and literally jumped into my arms. She kissed my lips, face, eyes and nose as though she were starving for my affection. Finally, after what seemed like a few minutes of desperate searching, she found my mouth and put her tongue almost down my throat. Then she broke the kiss and looked into my eyes, but her hands were still exploring my back.

"Oh, David, I missed you so much. I was so lonely; I did not know what to do!"

With that, she kissed me again, this time with less urgency, but certainly more passion. I allowed my hands to explore her body. I slid my hands down to her ass and pulled her against my crotch and my hard cock. I slid one hand down to the hem of her dress and slid it up her naked, silky smooth leg until I reached her naked ass. There were no panties to get in the way.

"Dahlia, no panties? Were you expecting something to happen?"

"No, I didn't even know you were coming over until you called this morning. I have not worn them since we were together. And look," she said as she hopped onto the conference table and lifted the dress to her waist. Her pussy was shaved smooth, just as I like it.

"This has been my way of staying close to you these past weeks. Every morning, when I shave it, I think if you and that morning we spent together."

I reached down and gently ran the backs of the fingers of my left hand down her slit. She sucked in her breath and took my face in her hands. 

She looked into my eyes and sighed, "I have been waiting for this moment for a long time. Let's go up to my office."

She gathered her papers and we left the conference room.

Her office was quite large with law books along one wall and a sitting area with a large sofa along the opposite wall. A large, walnut desk fronted with two leather wingback chairs dominated the room. 

She took my hand, led me to the sofa, and literally pushed me down onto it. She hiked up her dress, flashing her baby smooth pussy for an instant as she climbed onto my lap, facing me with a leg on each side of me. Once again, she took my face her hands and brought her lips to mine. We kissed, unhurriedly, passionately and lovingly. I brought my hands around and cradled her naked ass. With my fingers, I gently stroked her pussy and ass. She sighed as someone in the desert who finally found water to sate her thirst.

I lifted the dress up and she broke the kiss only long enough for the dress to pass over her head. I had not realized before that moment that she did not wear a bra. The support was built into the dress, so she straddled me, naked.

She then went to work on the buttons of my shirt, and as soon as it was off, pulled me up and lowered my pants and briefs around my ankles. I stepped out of them and she pushed me back onto the sofa and took my engorged cock into her mouth. There was no doubt of who was in charge of the moment.

I enjoyed the attention that Dahlia was paying to my cock and balls, but I wanted to take in the scent and eat her tight pussy.

I pulled her away from my cock and lifted her face to mine. I kissed her deeply and tasted the saltiness of my pre-cum on her lips. 

I kissed her neck and down to her tits, admiring them for the first time in weeks. Her small nipples were the size and the hardness of a large pencil eraser. I took them into my mouth one at a time and sucked like a nursing baby. She threw her head back and pulled my head into her chest. I nibbled lightly with my teeth, then bit down slightly, and pulled on her nipple with my teeth. She let out a moan that was somewhere between pain and pleasure. 

I could have lingered there for hours, but I wanted to get to the tight and flawless pussy that was so near. I kissed her chest and down to her tummy. As I approached her belly button, I noticed for the first time that she had a piercing. This was a new discovery for me; it was either new or I did not notice it when we made frantic love a few weeks ago. As I neared her waist, she spread her legs: an invitation to partake of the wonders that lay between them. During my exploration, she never took her hands from the back of my head. Now she used them to direct me as I used my tongue to pleasure her. Once again, there was no doubt that she was in charge, and once again, I enjoyed being led instead of leading.

It did not take me long to find her clit. It was swollen and peeking out from behind its hood. I did not use my tongue right away. I first gently kissed it and then made popping sounds, which created gentle vibrations. She seemed to enjoy it, but she pulled on my head, pressing my face deeper against her pussy. The message was clear: she wanted more, she wanted it more aggressively and she wanted it now.

I put my tongue into her and brought the tip behind her clit, lifting it away from her body. She let out a loud groan that was obviously one of pleasure and not pain. After a couple of minutes of stimulation, her legs went limp and she sat on the sofa, her legs still splayed to give me access to her pussy and the joys within.

Within ten minutes, the building intensity took her over the top and she came to a powerful climax releasing a flow of juices, which I lapped up like a hungry puppy. I continued to caress her clit gently with my tongue and lips as she came down from her climactic high.

I got off my knees and sat beside her on the large sofa in her office. The large clock on the wall behind her desk showed that it was about 4:00. We still had at least an hour before anyone would be back from lunch.

As we lay/sat on the sofa, I wrapped my right arm around her and gently tweaked her right nipple. Her left hand was on my thigh and found its way to my rock hard cock, which was glistening in the halogen lighting in her office. 

She looked at me with a very satisfied look. "That was wonderful. Do you want me to return the favor?"

"As much as I would love that, I would love being inside you more."

She leaned over to me and kissed me passionately. At the same time, without warning, she threw her right leg over me and in one move impaled herself on my pulsating, painfully erect cock. We were both so wet that I slid in to the hilt with no effort. She broke the kiss and looked at me with lust in her eyes.

"You mean like this?"

"Yes, exactly like that!"

She kissed me again and slowly moved her pelvis, first front to back, then left to right. The feeling was incredible as I felt the end of my cock contact her vaginal walls from different angles. I lay back on the large sofa and watched her work her magic. Beads of sweat formed on her chest and between her breasts. Her hair, which only an hour ago was perfectly coiffed, was matted with perspiration.

I was so engrossed in watching her and enjoying the sensations flowing through my body that I did not even think about the growing pressure in my groin. Her movements became more rapid, her face contorted and her verbalizations grew in volume and pitch. She let out a scream as she took herself over the top and had an intense orgasm. Her pussy muscles went into spasm and clamped down on my cock like a velvet vise. I came immediately, shooting several intense spurts into her convulsing pussy. This brought on a second, smaller orgasm from Dahlia.

She collapsed on my chest until her breathing slowed and she gave a sigh of contentment. Her relaxed muscles released our combined juices, which flowed down my balls and onto the leather of the sofa. I wondered, briefly, what her clients would think of their attorney right now.

I looked at the clock and realized that people would start wondering in soon.

"Dahlia, my dear, I think we need to get cleaned up."

She looked at her reflection in the glass picture frame behind the sofa and said, "Oh my god, I look like I just got fucked!"

She was right. Her hair and make-up were ruined, she was flushed and she did look like she had just had sex. She padded naked across the office and into her private bathroom. She came out a moment later with a small hand towel. 

"Sorry," she said, "this is the best I can find."

She popped back in the bathroom and a couple of seconds later I heard her blow drier kick in. I used the towel to wipe my crotch and clean the cum off the couch, then got dressed. About ten minutes later, she came out, still naked, but looking like nothing happened.

"I would have been out sooner, but I had to stop the cum from running down my legs. I don't have any underwear and no tampons or anything."

She stuffed some toilet paper between her legs, slipped on her dress, which was in a crumpled pile on the floor where I threw it a couple of hours ago. She put on her shoes and told me to grab a pile of papers and follow her to back to the conference room. One the way, she checked the office to make sure we were still alone. We settled in the same chairs we were in when the office closed. Less than a minute later, we heard the sound of a key in the office door, and the receptionist walked in.

We looked at each other and heaved sighs of relief.

I asked her, "So, Dahlia, what now? Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. I certainly want more of what we just had, but I don't know if we can be out in the open about it...not yet anyway. I think we are safe here, but not at your place or mine."

"That means we will be giving that couch of yours a workout."

"Oh David, I am just not sure that we can make this a regular thing...not right now. I love what you do to me, but I am also afraid of what Javier may do to me."

"Dahlia, he is in jail. He has bigger problems than you or me. He is facing life in prison for his role with the Zeta Cartel. He is worthless to the cartel in jail, so there is no reason for anyone to protect him or to do his bidding."

"Perhaps, but please, David, I have known him for many years and I know what he is capable of. Please, let's be cautious for the time being."

"I don't know if I like that, but I will accept it."

Outside the conference room, the office was beginning to bustle with activity as the staff returned from the traditional siesta. It was just about 6:00 when Dahlia's assistant entered the room and whispered something into her boss' ear. Dahlia turned, nodded to her assistant and replied in Spanish that she would be with her in a couple of minutes.

"David, I have something to take care of. Do you want to wait here?"

"No, I think I will take off. I have some calls to make." I held up the bag of burritos I brought in a few hours ago. "What about these?"

She smiled and said, "After that workout, I could use some nourishment. Can you leave them here?"

I returned her smile and handed them over. We walked to the hall and then to the main entrance. She shook my hand and held her cheek for me to kiss, just as any female attorney would do for a male client. The only difference was what she whispered into my ear, "Now I have to go talk to my boss with your cum dripping out of my pussy."

She laughed and I was on my way.

I drove back to my apartment and stripped off my clothes. I intended to jump into the shower but I noticed that the scent of her perfume and her passion still lingered on my skin. I did not want to wash it off, so I just sat in a lounge chair in the living room, naked and replaying the afternoon in my mind.

The next few weeks passed quickly. Dahlia and I talked daily. For safety, and mainly to calm Dahlia's fears, I continued to rotate phones; a precaution I felt was unnecessary. We got together two more times in her office during the afternoon lunch hour. We did things differently, however. We waited until there was no one left in the office and then Dahlia would call me and let me in.

Once we were almost caught. We were just cleaning up when her assistant, an attractive and very traditionally appearing Latina, knocked and entered the office just as I was zipping my jeans. Dahlia was still in the bathroom, this time inserting a tampon to control "leakage". 

I asked Dahlia if her assistant would create problems. She was not concerned. She said her only concern was that her assistant might ask to join us some afternoon. (Hmm, that's a thought.)

The construction project was progressing at a surprisingly fast pace. There was no doubt that the job would be finished on schedule or maybe a little early.

Our relationship continued to grow and blossom. Although our meetings in her office always involved sex, it became secondary to learning more about one another.

I wanted to spend Christmas with Dahlia, but she told me she wanted to take Juan Carlos (her son) to see his father. It had been months since the arrest and his letters were getting less angry and he pleaded Dahlia to bring their son for a visit.

I decided to take some time to finish the visit that circumstances interrupted last summer. I traveled first to Milwaukee to visit my office and to let Susan know that at age 54, I had fallen in love with someone. I don't know how I expected her to react, but she smiled, and said that she was happy for me, and that I deserved to be totally committed to a woman who was totally committed to me. 

"Well", I told her, "I am committed to her, but at this point she still has two other men in her life: her son and her husband."

"Isn't her husband in jail?"

"Yes, but she still has an emotional connection with him. In fact, she is spending Christmas with him."

"Do you want to spend Christmas with us? The kids and I are all meeting in Chicago at my son's place." (He is the weekend anchor on a Chicago TV station.) "I am sure they can set the table for one more."

"No thanks. I think I will give my sister a call. I haven't spent the holidays with her and her family for a long time."

My times with my sister and her family are always good times. Her husband is one of the smartest men I have ever met. He has no formal degree, but has an uncanny ability to solve any engineering problem without benefit of a diploma. We were about the same age, but I respected him more than I did anyone else I knew. I even paid him to consult on job related problems occasionally. He has never disappointed me.

During this visit, however, I felt sadness and separation. I wanted to be with Dahlia and was jealous that the person she was with, albeit for a short time, was a man that despised her, beat her and generally treated her as property.

Finally, the holidays were over, I got back to work and we resumed our regular, irregular schedule of afternoon rendezvous. 

In the middle of February (Valentine's Day, to be exact) Dahlia called me and said she had to fly to Guadalajara to take a statement from a client. She reminded me that Guadalajara is only a two-hour drive from Puerto Vallarta and that she was entitled to some time off. Would I be interested in a few days of sun and fun?

It took less than a second for me to agree and we made the plans.

I flew into Puerto Vallarta the same day Dahlia left for Guadalajara, and a day before we were to meet. I booked a small suite at the Lindo Mar Hotel south of the main city. Every room had an ocean view, and I heard the rumor that the view made even the coldest woman passionate and the passionate woman a sexual dynamo. I only hoped that I could handle the dynamo part.

When I arrived, the quiet elegance of the hotel was very impressive. I checked in as Mr. and Mrs. and told the clerk that my wife would be arriving the next day. I went to my room and found that it was everything I expected.

There was a gentle sea breeze blowing though the large, open glass doors that led to the private balcony. The filmy white curtains billowed into the room like romantic clouds. The room overlooked the white sand beach of Banderas Bay and, beyond that, the Pacific Ocean. Directly below was the pool, where every variety of body shape and type was on parade. It was a hedonist's delight, although owners of some of the bodies on display could have exercised a little more discretion.

The suite consisted of a small sitting room with a sofa and chair and a small bar. The bedroom excited me the most. The large king sized bed dominated the room, with a hot-tub/whirlpool for two. The bathroom had a large walk in shower (which I knew we would use together).

I spent the day before Dahlia's arrival scoping out the hotel amenities and the surrounding shops and restaurants. This long weekend was going to be something special, and I wanted to make sure it was perfect.

I ate dinner at one of the small seaside restaurants that served some incredibly good fish, roasted over an open fire. I wanted Dahlia there. Knowing that we would be together in less than 12 hours did not lessen my desire.

I returned to the room at about 10:00 and climbed into the huge bed, and let the sound of the waves lull me to sleep. Of course, I dreamed of Dahlia.

The next morning (Friday morning), there was a knock on the door at about 7:00. Before I went to bed, I ordered a pot of coffee and croissants to be delivered at about this time, and when I answered the door, I was greeted by the most beautiful and sexy woman I had ever seen: Dahlia. She had her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes twinkled in the early morning light. She wore a very short denim skirt with a red shirt, tied loosely at the waist, revealing the dangling belly button ring. None of the buttons was fastened, so the frilly bra, in an identical shade of red, was all that was hiding her breasts from my hungry eyes. In her hand was a small tray with two large coffees that she purchased in the lobby.

"So, are you going to ask me in, or do I have to take this coffee and knock on some other doors down the hall?"

I literally pulled her into the room and set the coffee on a table near the door. I put my arms around her, while she untied the belt holding my robe together. She opened it up and drew herself towards me, my naked skin against the fabric of her clothes.

"Where is your bag?" I asked.

"It's still in the car. I am going to take my clothes off and get into bed with you and stay naked for a while, so I figured I won't need my bags until later."

With that, I ripped at her clothes to get them off. When the skirt came off, she was naked from the waist down; as had become a custom, she wore no panties. I un-knotted her shirt and reached in from behind her back to unsnap her bra. With one motion, both the bra and shirt came off and were in a pile with her skirt.

I took her in my arms and though I still had the robe on, I opened it so I could feel naked flesh against naked flesh. 

I scooped her up and took her into the bedroom where the bed was still unmade from my night alone. I laid her down and just as I was about to take my robe off, there was another knock on the door.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 03



"Hmm," she said slyly. "Did I interrupt your plans?"

"Yes you did," I said. As I tied my robe, my rock hard cock tented the front and tried very hard to get out. I opened to the door and signed for the coffee that I had ordered the night before, tipped the server and put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door.

"I had planned on eating croissants and drinking coffee. Now I have to eat your pussy and drink your juices.

Dahlia and I crawled under the crisp white sheets of what would be our nest for the next three days. Like always, the first of our lovemaking sessions was more lustful than loving. After the constraints of her office couch, and with my desire to eat her pussy and her desire to suck my cock, we ended up in a six-nine position with her on top of me.

I took her smooth, freshly shaved pussy to my mouth and used my tongue to find her clit. As expected, it was hard and throbbing. My tongue darted around it and then I forced it into her pussy. I brought my hands around her ass and gently inserted the middle finger of my right hand into her asshole and tried to get my tongue to touch my finger. By her motions, I could tell that she was enjoying my ministrations. 

Her mouth on my cock matched pace with my tongue on her pussy. I raised my head and watched as she worked on giving me pleasure; her head bobbed up and down, and her hair fell down on either side of her neck. She focused so much on me that her excitement was building much more slowly than normal.

Her energy and focus worked its magic on me as I began to feel the familiar pressure in my groin. Dahlia was becoming very good at reading me and adjusted her pace. The feeling started as a tingle deep in my bowels, and slowly, painfully slowly, built. I could no longer focus on her pussy. I just licked and kissed her folds as the coming eruption got nearer. 

Her torture became more than I could take as I thrust myself into her mouth: once, twice, three times until I poured more than a week's worth of sperm into her waiting mouth. As always, the first orgasm with Dahlia was the most dramatic, with plenty of volume and an after-feeling that was electric.

I did not linger on my own feelings. I still had a young, firm and very wet pussy in my face that needed attention. Now she could focus on the pleasure that I was giving her. She laid her head on my left thigh and gently played with my softening (and shrinking) cock. I think that she wanted to bring it back to life and go to work on it again. I would have none of that, however. I began working her clit between my tongue and teeth, lightly raking them over her hard nub. I even used my nose to stimulate her. 

The result of my attention was dramatic and intense as her orgasm built. Her body went rigid as her pussy began to spasm. Then my face and neck were drenched with her juices, which had squirted from her body with great force. For the first time since I started to sleep with Dahlia, she verbalized her orgasm with intensity and volume.

As we came down from the genital-focused orgasmic high, I crawled up to the head of the bed and held Dahlia very close.

"Hi, Dahlia. Welcome to Puerto Vallarta."

"That was a very nice welcome."

We drank some of the coffee, which by this time had cooled off some. We lay there, naked and uncovered, with the cool breeze off the bay making the room very comfortable. She laid her head on my shoulder, reached down, and fondled my cock, which was beginning to respond to the stimulation. I wrapped my arms around her and gently tweaked her right nipple.

"So, we have three days. What do you want do?"

"Well, I bought a new swimsuit that I think you might like. I figured we could go out by the pool and lay out until I get horny and then come back here to find someone to service me. Then go back out to the pool and repeat the process."

"Dahlia, I am 54 years old. I don't know that I have it in me."

"Well, you can service me with your cock or your tongue," she said as she crawled out from under my arm and took my now rigid cock into her mouth, "and I will do my best to make sure to give you a full measure of satisfaction."

We jumped into the shower and enjoyed giving attention to each other's bodies and getting to know each other. Despite our regular sessions in her office, I rarely got the chance to explore her body. I used the luxurious soap to pay particular attention to her ass and pussy. She did likewise with my cock and balls, which had never been cleaner.

We got out of the shower and dried each other off with the huge towels the hotel provided. We decided to head out to the pool, but then realized that her luggage was still in her rental car. I got dressed and took her keys to the parking lot to get the three suitcases that she brought for the three day outing at Lindo Mar Hotel.

It was about noon when I got back to the room with the bellhop in tow. I slid the key-card into the door and opened it. The bellhop got the thrill of his life as he saw her come out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her head. As always, her nipples were hard and her pussy looked freshly shaved.

Without a hint of embarrassment, she told him to put the suitcases on the bench at the end of the bed.

"David, can you tip him? I don't have any cash on me right now...and close your mouth. It is hanging open.

I gave the bellhop 100 pesos, and figured we would want for nothing as long as he was on duty.

Dahlia grabbed the smallest of the three cases and went into the bathroom. "I am going to get ready, but stay out. I want to surprise you.

With that, she closed and locked the door. I turned on the TV and watched some soccer game until I heard her turn off her hair drier.

About 20 minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom and was a stunning vision. She wore a tiny, yellow, filmy bikini that barely covered the areola of her firm tits. When wet, it would be nearly transparent. The thong bottoms were of the same translucent fabric. It consisted of a one-inch wide piece of fabric that barely covered her plump outer lips. It stretched tightly over the folds of her pussy, creating the perfect camel toe. The fabric ended in a thin string that disappeared between her cheeks so from behind, nothing obstructed the view of her beautiful ass.

I wore conservative, "old man" swimming trucks that were quite baggy and, if I were pressed for the truth, were quite ugly. The contrast between us would be stark. Rather than make me feel uncomfortable, the prospect that every red-blooded male would be looking at her excited me, especially knowing that at the end of the day, it would be me with whom she would be sleeping.

She wrapped herself in a lime green sarong, which, while it was designed to provide some modesty, it actually highlighted the sexy body it was supposed to cover. My cock immediately rose to attention as I looked at Dahlia. To my eyes, her body was perfect.

It was then I realized that it was not her body that was causing the physical reaction. It was her demeanor and the way she looked at me. As she stood there, her eyes smoldered with passion. She tilted her head slightly and gave me a smile that suggested a fire that burned within. What a change from just a few months ago when she always looked sad!

"You have not said anything. Don't you approve?" 

"Yes, I approve. My God, you are a vision. What happened to the shy and demure Dahlia I knew? You are like a butterfly coming out of the cocoon."

"I am tired of not being who I want to be. I am tired of constantly trying to get the approval of other people. This is who I am, who I want to be and whom I want the world to see. I am happy that you approve, but even if you had not approved, I would still wear this to the pool and to the beach. Now, shall we go to the pool?"

Every step we took from the room to the elevator, across the lobby and out to the pool earned the appreciative stares of the men we met; and with every step, her confidence grew and showed in her face and posture.

The demure, shy, intimidated Dahlia I met 14 months ago was gone, replaced by the confident, sexy and proud Dahlia of today walking beside me.

Our time by the pool was fun. Drinks came quickly and often. When she stepped out of the pool after cooling off, all eyes were on her as the yellow suit, as predicted, became nearly transparent. Her pussy lips were prominent and her nipples were hard, either from the cool water of from the thrill of being appreciated. 

I could not believe that I had sucked that pussy just a couple of hours ago. I was indeed a lucky man, and every man at the pool would have agreed. Even some of the women looked at her with desire. 

Shortly before 2:30, I had enough sun and was getting hungry (for both food and sex) so we headed to the large seafood buffet laid out in the dining room. The air conditioning in the room made her small but prominent nipples unbelievably hard after the heat out by the pool.

We feasted on cold crab, shrimp and, of course raw oysters. 

After lunch, we walked out of the dining room, hand in hand. Once again, everyone turned to stare at her as we walked into the elevator. When the door closed on the glass elevator, and we began our ascent, she turned to me and tilted her chin up, inviting me to kiss her in front of everyone in the lobby and restaurant.

We managed to get back to our room (but just barely) before stripping off what little clothing we wore. I took her in my arms and pulled her close to my throbbing cock. I kissed and licked her tits and shoulders and tasted the coconut oil I had put on her body a couple hours ago.

I lifted her naked body and carried her to the bed. I pulled back the cover of the freshly made bed and eased her back onto the crisp white sheets. She clung to me and began to kiss me in a tender way, which was not characteristic of our hurried and furtive rendezvous that marked the past few months.

I sat up and looked at her. Her eyes were smoldering and her mouth was open, as if willing my lips to hers. I kissed her, gently at first, with my tongue darting across he lips and teeth. She drew me closer, her tongue dancing with mine. I straddled her, and used the back of my hands and fingers to caress the sides of her breasts. 

She reached down and grabbed my cock, which by now was rock hard and flowing freely with pre-cum. She guided it to her pussy, which was wet with her juices. I easily slid into her and, taking her cue, pressed in to the hilt. I felt the now familiar sensation of having every millimeter of my cock embedded into her body, massaged by her muscles.

Once again, we kissed, all the while keeping a steady rhythm: me thrusting into her pussy, and her milking my cock. Even though I came earlier in the day, her raw sexual energy brought me to the edge very quickly. It was apparent that this was for me; there was no pretext of cumming together. She raked her fingernails across my back. After a few minutes, I felt the now familiar feelings boiling up inside me. I looked her in the eyes, and she responded by saying, "Don't worry about me, this is about you. Cum inside me."

With that, my back arched and, despite trying to prolong the pleasure, I let loose with spasm after spasm of relief. Her muscles pulsed against my cock and milked me dry. As much as I have come to enjoy Dahlia's blowjobs, there is something so special about coming inside her pussy.

I collapsed on her before rolling over. "I am sorry that you didn't get a chance to cum."

"Don't be. I am saving myself for tonight. I have something very special planned."

We lay together on the bed for some time. Dahlia nestled her head against my shoulder and threw her leg over mine. She traced slow circles around my nipples, and occasionally lifted herself up and kissed me gently on the lips. With every move, my cum leaked out of her pussy. She reached down, scooped some up, and put it in her mouth. She smiled at me and I felt a stirring, not in my groin, but in my heart.

Then, almost as if an alarm had gone off, she jumped up and grabbed a small towel that was on the nightstand. She spread her legs and wiped the remnants of my cum, which was now flowing down her legs.

She told me to get in the shower (alone) and when I got out, I was to put on the clothes that she would lay out on the bed. I did as I was told. (I will always obey the requests of a naked woman with my cum dripping from her shaved pussy.)

When I finished with my shower, Dahlia came into the bathroom wearing one of the robes provided by the hotel. She goosed my flaccid cock and told me not to go snooping around; just get dressed in what she laid out and wait for her.

Laid out on the bed was a pair of lightweight Dockers and a print, button shirt, which I had never seen before. On the floor was a pair of deck shoes that I thought I left at home. There was no underwear or socks, so I did as she told me: I dressed in what she laid out, meaning I was going commando and sock-less tonight.

I looked around the room and saw a large beach bag and a picnic basket on the floor by the door. I could only imagine what she had in mind, but I followed her "orders" and did not peek.

I turned on the TV for a while and scrolled through the Mexican soap operas and the endless Mexican soccer scores and highlights until she came out of the bathroom. Like always, my heart skipped a beat when I saw her.

She wore a simple skirt that wrapped around her waist. It came down to just below her knees, but opened slightly to expose some of her thigh with each step. Her top was a simple red "tube top". It exposed her trim belly and highlighted the pearl "dangle" that hung from her navel. For added modesty, she wore a white, translucent blouse that she left unbuttoned. She completed the outfit with a pair of sandals that added an inch or so to her height, and made her legs look even better.

She handed me the picnic basket, grabbed the beach bag, and left for our adventure.

As soon as we reached the beach, she removed her sandals and we walked in the sand for a couple hundred yards to a small cove. Large boulders surrounded the area on three sides and offered some privacy from prying eyes, but we still had a magnificent view of the ocean and the sunset.

"Okay", she said, "Here we are."

The setting was perfect. I opened up the beach bag, pulled out a large blanket and spread it out over the sand. While I did that, she opened the basket and pulled out a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. She handed the wine and corkscrew to me to do the honors. I poured the wine and we toasted each other and our future.

Then I leaned back against a smooth rock, and she sat on blanket, between my legs, leaning back against my chest. She ran her fingers up and down my legs while I wrapped my arms around her. Then we talked. We talked about our lives and our dreams. We talked about what we thought our lives would be like when we were children. We talked about joys and sadness. All the while, the sun made a slow but steady decent to the ocean. As it neared the horizon, it turned brilliant orange and caused the entire western sky to turn from blue to dozens of shades of red and orange.

Although I felt the emotion, I had not expressed my love for her since I hinted at my feelings when I returned from the States and found out that her husband had hit her. I often wanted to say the words, but I couldn't or wouldn't. It was not because I did not feel love for her, because I did; it was not because I did not want to spend the rest of my life with her because I did. What was stopping me was the fear that she may not feel the same way towards me, and I did not want to back her into a corner and force her to respond in a way I might not want.

As I sat on the soft sands of the Mexican Pacific Coast, I knew I had to get rid of my feet of clay and take a chance. If there ever was a time to express my feelings, this was it.

"Dahlia, I have tried to show it and I have tried to live it, but now I must say it: Dahlia, I have fallen in love with you. I know that saying so may complicate your life more than it already is, but I need you to know that I want to help you sort things out and then spend the rest of my life making you happy."

She did not say anything for a few moments (although the few moments seemed like hours). She continued to run her hands up and down my leg, but there was no other movement. Had I ruined things? Then I felt hot splashes on my forearms, which were still wrapped around her. The splashes were tears; she was crying. I didn't know if they were happy tears or some other kind. I moved to try to look at her but she turned away. 

"Dahlia, I'm sorry I made you cry, but please, talk to me."

She removed her hand from my thigh, wiped a tear away from her cheek, and slowly turned to me. Through her tears, she had a surprised look on her face.

"Do you mean it?" she asked. 

"Of course I mean it. I have been waiting all my life for you to find your way to me. I was waiting for you to be born, to go through childhood and to become an adult. I waited until you needed and wanted someone like me. Then we found each other your office in Monterrey 14 months ago and I think loved you since that first moment."

"Oh, David, those are words I have wanted to hear for years. No man, other than my father, has ever told me he loved me in a way that was believable. You are the first, and I love you, too. You owned my heart since we started having regular business dinners together. I knew that business was not the reason we got together so often, but you were such a gentleman and made me feel safe, all the while, I knew you wanted more.

"Then, this morning when I checked in as your wife and was able to walk through the hotel arm and arm with you, I knew you were meant for me. I do love you, David."

At that precise moment, the sun dipped below the horizon. The western sky was brilliant orange as the sun disappeared, giving way to indigo and then black. The stars made their appearances as the sky darkened, and we lay under the blanket of a stunning night sky.

She turned towards me, with my arms still around her and kissed me. Although we kissed hundreds of times, this one was different. It was deep and satisfying, but it was not sexual; it was a kiss shared not between lovers, but between two people in love. I had never been as emotionally satisfied in my life.

We finished off the cheese, fruit and the bread from the picnic basket and then opened another bottle of wine. Then she turned to me. 

"Do you remember that I was saving myself for tonight?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, its tonight, and I want you to make love to me here on the beach."

She stood up and took off the white top. Her sandals were already off when she untied the wrap that made up her skirt. As expected and as had become the tradition, she wore no underwear; she stood before me wearing only the red tube top, but that lasted only a few moments before it, too, was gone.

She kneeled before me and started to unbutton my shirt. It occurred to me to ask where it came from and she told me that when she saw it, the only thing she could think of was how sexy it would be to take off. She worked very slowly taking her time with each button. Her lovely tits were so close to my face, but when I tried to suck one, she pulled away. Once again, Dahlia was in charge. 

When the shirt was finally off, she unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. My cock sprang out of its confinement, and she looked at me and told me that I was good at following orders because I went commando, just as she wanted. 

She reached down, and with her gentle hands, cupped my balls, bent over and took my cock into her mouth. As always, the feeling of her lips and tongue was incredible. In addition to the physical sensations, the mental picture of Dahlia in the courtroom or boardroom, using this same mouth in legal debate added to the overall enjoyment of the moment.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 04



I woke up at my usual time the next morning (Saturday morning). I slipped out of bed, stripped off my clothes, and took a shower. It felt good to get the salt and sand off my skin, but I regretted having to wash off her cum, which had matted the hair on my chest and pubic area, even after six hours. So much had happened that it was hard to believe that we had been here less than 24 hours.

I put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and quietly slipped out of the room and went to the lobby to pick up a newspaper and a couple of coffees to take back to the room. I used the time to make plans for the day.

When I got back, Dahlia was still sleeping. She still wore the white, semitransparent blouse that she wore the night before, but it was wrinkled beyond recognition. Her dark areolas were clearly visible through the fabric. I also noticed that at some point in the night, she removed her skirt. I could see that her pussy was red and puffy from all the activity the night before. As I studied her body while she slept, I realized that I would never tire of looking at her no matter how disheveled and decidedly unglamorous she looked at that moment.

Soon she awoke. This was the first morning that we woke up together, and I relished the thought of learning more about this woman. I quickly found out that she did not function without coffee first thing in the morning.

Her first words to me were not, "Thank you for a lovely evening", or "Good Morning, Lover." Her first words were, "I need coffee."

I gave her the large Styrofoam cup and she breathed in the aroma and took a sip. Then she looked at herself in the mirror opposite the bed and discovered that she did not look very much like she looked when we left the room the previous evening.

"David, stop looking at me. God, I look horrid.

"No", I said. "To me you look like someone that got fucked on the beach by someone that loves you. I could look at you all day."

"Well, there is no question that you and I fucked last night. My pussy is raw, my nipples hurt and my ass feels like someone put his finger there...David, I had such a wonderful time. It was the first time in ten years I felt free."

"Well, I am glad I was there to help. What do you want to do today?"

"Well, the first thing is to take a shower and get some breakfast. What time is it?

"It's about 7:30."

"That means we have all day so we don't need to rush. First, I am going to get in the shower. Then let's get something to eat and make some plans. I want to do some shopping and buy something for Juan Carlos."

"Okay, breakfast and shopping: we have a plan."

I thought about jumping in the shower with her, but I really enjoyed being alone with my thoughts while I showered that morning, and I decided that unless she asked me to join her, I would afford her the same privilege.

She took so much time that I finished my coffee and the rest of hers, too. I finally poked my head in the bathroom to see if she was okay. Through the mist and the steamy shower door, I saw that she was just standing under the shower, allowing the water for flow across her shoulders and back. She looked like she thinking, and as I backed out the door, I prayed that she was not having second thoughts about what we talked about the night before.

I heard the shower stop and a few minutes later, her hair drier start up. Once again, as whenever I am alone with my thoughts, I wondered what the future held for Dahlia and me. I wondered, for the umpteenth time how I could be so lucky to make love to that body and face. The project manager in me asked the question, what would go wrong next?

It was at that point that Dahlia walked out of the bathroom. She was still naked, but her hair was perfect and she had just a little eye makeup on. I was blown away by her near flawless body and, as always, by her face.

She struck a pose and put her arms out to her side. "Better?" she said.

"You keep getting better and better", I replied as I got up and went over to her.

"No you don't. First breakfast, then shopping and lunch. Then you can have this."

She put on a white cotton sundress with straps that crossed on her naked back, and came to just above the knee. As always, she wore no panties and today, no bra. The dress flowed around her. Her nipples were stimulated as her breasts swung free under the light fabric. They were not hard, but were prominent. As she moved across the room, the light from the window silhouetted her naked body, making it visible to anyone who knew enough to look.

Overall, I would be a very proud and fortunate man with Dahlia on my arm today.

We made our way to the elevator and decided to partake in the breakfast buffet, which served every breakfast food imaginable, from Mexican to American to Continental. I opted for traditional bacon and eggs with hash browns and toast. Dahlia went light, with just a croissant and some jelly.

As she walked from the buffet to our table, I turned to watch her. I noticed that every man in the place had the same idea. The way the fabric flowed around her, there was no doubt she was naked under that dress.

When my eggs were ready, I walked back to the table. I could not help but wonder what the other men were thinking. While I am in good shape, I could not hide that I was in my mid-fifties. There was also no hiding that Dahlia looked younger than her 33 years, so the men must have thought that I was her father. I decided to put an end to that nonsense, so when I reached the table, I bent over and kissed her full on the lips.

When we finally broke the kiss, she asked me, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing, I'm just sending a message to all the young studs in the room that I am not a father taking his daughter to breakfast: I am a man taking his lover to breakfast."

We ate in comfortable silence. As I ate, I looked up and Dahlia was staring at me.

"What are you staring at?" I asked.

"I am staring at you. I have never known anyone like you. You have never tried to take advantage of me, even though you could have seduced me within a few months of meeting me. You waited until I was ready. I don't know anyone that would have been as patient as you. I knew I loved you before we were intimate. I think that is why I knew it was right. I just wanted you to know that I have no regrets and never will."

"How did you know that I was wondering about whether you were having second thoughts?"

"Because that is the kind of man you are."

"Well, I sometimes wonder if I can keep up with your needs. I mean I can now, sort of, but who knows what will happen in a few years. I do not ever want to disappoint you."

"David, if you were my age or even younger, anything could happen. We just don't know what the future holds for us. All I care about is that I love you, and that there is no way you could ever disappoint me."

We finished breakfast and caught a cab to the old part of town. There were dozens of tourist traps that sold all sorts of tourist oriented junk.

As we strolled down the street, she put her arm though mine and put your head against my shoulder. We passed dozens of small stands selling everything from sombreros to ponchos to maracas. Some merchants were selling nice scarves and some native clothing. We turned down one street and we were in an upscale shopping area. It had some of the bigger, high-end names, such as Gucci and Versace. Dahlia's eyes brightened as she saw all the shops.

We wandered in and out of some of the stores and I tried to keep my focus, but I was having a difficult time. Dahlia seemed to sense my pain and looked at me.

"David, as much as I want to be with you, would you mind it if I went on my own? There are some things that I want to look at, and I think it would bore you. We can hook up for lunch later."

Those were the best words I ever heard. I wanted to spend as much time with Dahlia as possible...just not shopping.

"Well, I guess if you want to go out on your own, I can do some things to pass the time. Let's meet at that restaurant on the beach. I had dinner there the other night and it is pretty good."

"Okay, it's a date. Do you want me to bring anything for you?"

"Just you; and don't buy any underwear. The thought of you standing there with nothing on under that dress is more than I can stand."

She punched me in the arm and said, "You would be happy to have me naked all the time, wouldn't you?"

"Yep, that's the truth."

"Well, that may come sooner than you think. Now, get out of here and I will see you in a couple of hours."

I kissed her lightly and she went on her way. When I saw her last, she was entering the Jimmy Choo shoe store. (Hot, sexy shoes are her addiction.)

I had another shop in mind and walked up the street until I reached my destination. I stood at the window and studied the merchandise. I knew what I wanted, or at least I knew what message I wanted my purchase to convey. I was determined to buy Dahlia something more than a painted seashell or some other forgettable trinket. I just had to figure out what was appropriate.

I walked away from the store, trying to figure out what to do. Nothing I saw in the window struck my fancy and nothing conveyed my feelings.

I turned around and walked back to the window and then in the door of the only high end (and legitimate) jewelry store in the city. My first thought was to buy her a diamond ring. I wanted her to be mine, and I wanted her to know how I felt, but with all the turmoil in her life, it might have the opposite affect from the one I wanted.

I could have bought her some diamond earrings, but she already had diamond studs.

I thought about a dangle for her belly button. I had certainly never purchased anything like it for any woman, but that was not my style.

Nothing in the store conveyed my feelings. After more than a half an hour of searching and thinking, I finally made a decision and made a purchase.

I left the store, content with my gift to Dahlia; it would show my feelings, but not put pressure on her at this very tumultuous time in her life.

I was about to walk towards the beach and have a couple of beers while I waited for Dahlia, when I saw her walk out of the Prada shop. She was laden with several shoeboxes, and I figured she needed some help. I crossed the street and grabbed some of the boxes.

We headed to the beach for lunch. Along the way, we make some purchases for Juan Carlos. She bought him a belt with a silver buckle and a pair of red and black cowboy boots. As we continued towards the beach, we looked into the shop windows and paused at some of the open stalls.

As we strolled and browsed, I occasionally caught site of her, checking out some bargains, with the sun behind her. The sun perfectly silhouetted her body. It was almost as if she was standing naked. I was proud, happy and I felt contented and satisfied with the direction my life was taking.

By the time we got to the beachfront restaurant, we were both hungry and thirsty. We grabbed a table in site of the bay, but inside, under the fans hanging from the thatched ceiling. I ordered a Sol Beer, and she ordered a frozen margarita.

"Dahlia, can I ask you something? Given all that has happened with Javier and his arrest, and what has happened between you and me, what do you think the future will hold for you?"

"David, I have thought of that a lot. This weekend has given me more to think about. I really don't know what the future will hold, but I know what I want."

"Will you share with me?"

"Well, I want to be happy. I want to love someone and have someone love me without condition. I want to go through life without being hit or slapped or having the threat of being hit hanging over me. I want to love my life more than I love my job. I want to be known by who I am, not what I do or to whom I am married."

She paused and took a sip of her margarita. "There is one more thing I want. I want a baby. I love Juan Carlos, but he came as an accident. I want to make a conscious decision to get pregnant and then to make love and actually know the moment that the baby is conceived."

She looked in my eyes. "Well, that's what I want. What about you?"

"Hmm, what about me? Well, I have been wandering most of my life. I have been very good at what I do and have made a great deal of money. I will never have to worry about money again. I thought that that would be enough. Then I met you, and I know that is not enough.

"I want to love someone for the first time in my life. I want that someone to be you. I want to go to bed at night and wake up with you in the morning. I want to make love to you. I want to drink coffee with you in the morning and wine with you in the evening. More than that, I want you to be the mother of my baby."

She looked at me and I looked at her. We had put our cards on the table, so I broke the silence.

"Well, Dahlia, It seems like we want the same things. Where do we go from here?"

The waiter broke the solemnity of the moment and asked to take our orders. We ordered snapper, grilled over an open hearth and served with mango and papaya chutney. When he was gone, I looked at Dahlia. She was obviously glad to have the chance to think of her answer.

"Well," I said. "Were do we go from here?"

"I want to go home with you and share your bed and your life, but I feel guilty divorcing Javier in his time of need. This is when a wife should support her husband."

That hit me like a fist to my gut. I bit my tongue and decided that deriding the son of a bitch that had made her life miserable would not help and might hurt our blossoming relationship. I was going to give her the gift I bought, but suddenly, the time was not right, especially now that my questions are making her sympathetic to my rival.

"Well, we have time, Dahlia. We don't have to think that far into the future. What we need to think about is what we will do this afternoon."

"David, I know just what I want to do. I want to finish lunch, have another margarita and then walk arm and arm with you back to the hotel. When we get to the room, I want you to eat my pussy, then I want to suck your cock and have you come in my month."

"Hmmm, let me think...Yeh that sounds like a good idea."

I think she gulped her margarita a little too fast, because she got a "brain freeze". We finished our lunch and headed back to the hotel. As we walked, a breeze coming off the bay blew her dress up, showing more leg than she may have intended. Since she was holding several shoe boxes, she was not easily able to get the fly-away fabric under control.

I told her that she is drawing some attention from men and women walking in the area.

"Really? People are looking at me? What can they see?"

"Yep. When the wind gusts almost everything is on display. You do have a cute ass."

"I should be embarrassed, but for some reason, that really excites me. They can see everything?"

"Well, let me hang back and I will take some pictures with my cell phone, so you can see for yourself."

"Okay, but not too far back. I don't want to have you too far way if I need you."

"Dahlia, I would never let anything happen to you. I will be right behind you."

With that, I stopped and pretended to look into one of the shop windows along the boulevard. When I turned back she was about ten paces in front of me. As she walked, her sundress was billowed out like a parachute, exposing her legs to mid-thigh. Every few steps, the dress would flare up in the back, revealing her naked ass. I snapped pictures, which I would share with her later in the evening. As I walked, I noticed that a group of young men were following her. They looked like American college students. One was trying to be inconspicuous as he held a video camera by his waist, pointing it at Dahlia.

I was a little upset that someone else was intruding on my fun, and then I realized that the pictures he was taking could end up on some up-skirt web site. If they had a picture of her face, it could create some professional problems for her.

I moved closer to Dahlia and stepped in front of the cameraman, and called out, "Hey Dahlia, look at this."

As she turned, her dress flared up again, this time in the front, giving everyone, except the guy with a camera, a clear, if momentary look at her cleanly shaved (and well fucked) pussy. The guys who were following her, mumbled with appreciation, while the camera guy kept saying, "What? What happened? What did I miss?"

We walked in the opposite direction, away from her fans, and that ended her exhibitionism for the day.

When we got back to our room, she threw the boxes on the floor and flopped on the bed. "God that was fun, but a little scary, too. When you called me and I turned, I saw all those guys and I got sort of worried, but I knew you were there."

"I knew you were enjoying showing yourself off, but then I saw one guy with a camera, I knew I had to step in. I didn't want pictures of your ass showing up on the internet."

"Oh", she said. "I never thought of that. Did you take some pictures, and will they end up on the internet?"

"Yes, I took some pictures, but the only way they will end up on the internet or anywhere else is if you post them. Do you want to see how you looked?"

"I don't know. Will I be embarrassed?"

"You certainly are bare-assed, but you should be proud of your body, not embarrassed."

I gave her my cell phone and she went through the 20 or so pictures I took. She quickly scanned them, and then went back through them, studying each one. I took off my shirt while she looked at them with a critical eye, looking for flaws. It was as if she were looking for the best picture to use on her business card or a brochure.

She got off the bed and walked over to me. "I have never done anything like this in my life. Here, look at this one. There are at least ten people in this picture, and there I am with my ass exposed."

It was a great picture, but it was not my favorite. I scrolled until I came to one that was taken from the front. Her dress was up around her waist, showing her smooth pussy. The look on her face is what made the picture so erotic: she was looking into the distance, looking in my direction, but past me. There was a little bit of apprehension in her eyes, as though she did not see me at first. The picture showed innocence and sensuality at the same time.

Dahlia looked at the picture again, and then asked, "You really do like my pussy, don't you?" With that, she lifted the hem of her dress and gave me the same view as in the picture.

"Of course I do. I love looking at it, eating it and being inside it."

"I think I like showing it off. I felt very free and in control knowing that people were looking at me because I was letting them. I would like to do that again sometime."

"Well," I said, "we can go back out right now. I will bring a camera and you can spend the afternoon showing off for everyone."

"No, I think I would rather get in the Jacuzzi with you and soak. Then, if you don't mind, I would like you to make long and slow love to me. Do you think that would be okay?"

"I think that would be just fine."

She was still standing there with the hem of her dress in her hands. I gently took it from her and lifted the dress over her head. Her body once again took my breath away. She was by no means a perfect, air-brushed model. She still bore the scar from the C-Section that was required for the birth of her son. Her skin was extremely smooth and there was no hint of a tummy.

As she stood before me her tits, which were not large and had small compact areoles and nipples, stood proud, and her pussy, shaved smooth, was like a vertical smile that showed only a slight hint of her inner lips.

Her ass was hard and muscular. The thong bathing suites she wore were ideally suited to her body type.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 04



I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to me. While sex was a very important part of our relationship, it was not as important as the closeness we felt for each other and the desire to hold and kiss each other. The feel of her naked breasts against my chest is one of the greatest sensations I have ever felt. (Not as great as the feeling of her grinding her pelvis against mine when my cock is deep inside her, but close.)

We broke our embrace and I opened the taps to fill the tub with water. As it filled, Dahlia unbuckled my belt and slipped my pants over my hips and down to the floor. My briefs quickly followed and once again we were naked. As she knelt down to remove my shoes, she wrapped her delicate hands around my quickly engorging cock. She jacked me and I started to thrust. Each thrust met her soft lips and tongue. Finally she took me into her mouth and sucked and stroked it using her tongue and teeth.

By this time the tub was full and we turned on the jets and climbed in. We sat with our legs extended, facing each other. Although it was a relaxing weekend, the powerful jets caress our bodies erased any tension that was left.

Soon I felt her foot between my legs. Her toes flicked my balls under the water and made an up and down motion on my rapidly hardening cock. She took my right foot in her hand and pulled it towards her pussy. My foot became a dildo as she worked it around her folds and into her body.

As the water started to cool we got out of the tub and jumped into the huge shower together. We lathered up using the luxurious soap that the hotel provided. We faced each other and glided our bodies against one another. My engorged cock was sandwiched between our bodies. Her soapy skin provided the right blend of friction and slippery lubrication so that the precum flowed.

I turned her around and rubbed my chest and stomach against her back. She widened her stance and, as I moved up and down, my cock slipped between her legs, almost entering her. I lathered up upper tits and pulled at her nipples. They became hard and erect with the stimulation.

She turned again, and looked up at me. The message was clear as she opened her lips and invited a kiss. Though Dahlia and I have had many good kisses, this was as passionate and loving as any we ever shared.

We stepped out of the shower and dried each other off. Obviously, she paid attention to my rock hard cock and I to her smooth pussy and small, sensitive tits.

After our shower, we wrapped ourselves in the fluffy robes provided by the hotel and sat on balcony to watch the sun set over the Pacific. The past two days had been like heaven on earth. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman. The more time I spent with her, the more my love for her grew and the greater the sex became. I would be 55 years old in the next couple of months and I had finally found what I had been missing all my life.

As we sat holding hands, I reached into the pocket of my robe for a small box that contained the gift I purchased that day. In it was a two-carat diamond. There was no ring, earrings or belly button dangle; there was just the diamond.

I opened the box. "Dahlia, over the past year, you have changed my life. You have been a friend, then a lover, and now I want you as my life partner. The stone itself is of insignificant value when I compare it to how much I value and treasure you.

"I know there are complications in your life, and that is why I am keeping this simple. I hope you will agree to have this made into an engagement ring and then marry me when the issue with Javier is resolved. I want to spend the rest of my life making you and Juan Carlos happy. If you don't want to do that, we can have it made into a necklace, or a new belly button ring, or cash it in for Juan Carlos' education."

She took it and with a tear in her eye and I knew that her answer would not be the one I had hoped for.

"Oh, David, I cannot make any promises to you about what will happen."

"Dahlia, I am not asking for promises. I am asking you to accept this gift.

She looked at the stone, which glistened in the waning sunlight.

"David, I do not know what the future will hold, but I can tell you this. I love you more than any man I have ever known."

"That is all I wanted to hear."

She stood and sat on my lap, straddling me. She pulled my robe back and worked my cock into her pussy, and we made love again, right there on the deck in full view of anyone that cared to look.

We called to room service for a light supper, retired early and slept in each other's arms. I awoke sometime in the middle of the night. Sunday would soon dawn and our weekend adventure would be over. I had never been so contented in my life. Although we had only spent two days together (not counting Sunday, which was a travel day), I was never more certain of anything in my life: I wanted to wake up every morning with Dahlia in my bed.

I continued to stare at the ceiling, with my arm around her as she slept on my chest. Her hair spread across my chest and warmed me like a sensuous blanket. I gently stroked her naked back as she slept soundly. I didn't know if it was my imagination or my ego, but I believed I had a calming influence on her. I prayed that I was part of her dreams.

The sky outside our room was beginning to brighten. The stars that had been so brilliant a few minutes ago were beginning to fade. Soon it would be dawn and we would have to pack and leave our love nest. I suddenly felt very sad, and even though she was lying with leg over mine and had her head and hand on my chest, I already missed her.

She stirred slightly and I felt her lift off my body. I opened my eyes and she was staring at me. Her hair was messed and suddenly there was a smile on her face. She leaned over and kissed me long and passionately.

She broke the kiss and asked, "Well, did you figure things out?"

"I'm sorry...did I figure what out?"

"I don't know. You have been awake for a couple of hours, staring at the ceiling and rubbing my back. You must have had something on your mind. Did you get it figured out?"

"I wasn't trying to figure something out: I was sort of taking inventory of my life and all that has changed in the past year or so."

Dahlia sat up and sat with her legs crossed. I was able to admire her pussy and tits before she grabbed a pillow and put it on her lap. "Is it something that you want to share?"

"Absolutely, since most of it involves you. I realized that up to a year ago I was a lonely man, growing old before my time. I had sex, but no emotion: there was no love. I also realized that you saved my life...No that's not right...you made me realize that there was more to life than being a nomad.

"I realized that you are the most important person in my life. I realized that even though it might not be the smartest thing to do at my age, I want a child, and I want you to be her mother."

She stopped me. "You want me to be 'her' mother? Wouldn't you want a boy to carry on your name?"

"It's funny, Dahlia, I never really thought much about children, but in the past few months, as I began to think more about it, I always thought of a girl. I would love to have a daughter who would grow up to be as passionate and loving as you. I imagine a young man coming to me as I approach the end of my life to tell me that my daughter is the most wonderful person in the world and then ask me for her hand in marriage. It's crazy, I know, but I can think of no better legacy than that."

Dahlia threw the pillow off to the side and threw back the covers. She climbed onto me and she laid on me for several minutes. Then she took my cock into her hand and slid it into her wet and ready pussy. I reached up and took her nipples between my fingers and rolled them gently.

"There is one more thing that I realized as I did my inventory."

Her hands were on my hips giving her support and leverage as she ground her hips around into my pelvis, forcing my cock deeply into her body. "What's that?" she asked.

"I realized that I spent many months trying to catch glimpses of your body. I sneaked peaks at your cleavage, and caught site of your legs in the car and whenever I was in your office. I got lucky sometimes."

She stopped her movements. "No, you didn't ever get lucky. You saw what I wanted you to see, even the first day we met."

"No shit? Well, as I lay here and look at your pussy, your tits and especially your face, I realize that I have to be the luckiest man alive to have this for myself."

"As long as we are being open with each other, I have something to share with you: I never thought I was attractive until I met you. I always thought I was...what's the English....'frumpy'".

"Dahlia, you need to get some new mirrors. The ones you are using are obviously defective."

"Nevertheless, that's what I felt. In fact, I was not certain that you were just trying to make me feel good by telling me how pretty I was. The admiring looks I got from people at the pool on Friday and the market yesterday when we flashed them convinced me that maybe my looks are pleasing."

"That is when I realized that you saw something in me that I did not see in myself."

We had a long conversation as she continued to rock back and forth to continue to stimulate my cock. With the exception of some ooohs and aaahs, it was a normal conversation.

Then almost as a surprised, "Oh, David, I...I...Oh god, I'm going to cum!"

Her movements intensified as she bucked front to back. Soon, her muscles contracted around my deeply impaled member and I erupted. I had no idea I was that close but the release was intense and powerful. Apparently that was all it took for Dahlia. Her body stiffened and she threw herself back, catching herself with her arms. This opened up her pussy enough that her juices pulsed out of her slit in perfect time with her convulsions. There was no doubt that our last lovemaking session was going to be as memorable as the session on the beach.

We recovered our strength, took a long shower together, got dressed and went to breakfast. We were both a little sad that a great weekend was nearly over.

We returned to our room and packed. Dahlia put on a black thong and matching bra. Tight jeans, Nikes and a Nike sweat shirt finished the ensemble. I put on jeans, a plain button shirt and walking shoes.

We checked out and Dahlia drove me to the airport for my flight to Monterrey. She had to drive to Guadalajara to catch her flight back to Monterrey. She was still concerned that someone might see us together.

She dropped me at the departure area. I gave her a platonic kiss and told her I would see her in town. I got out of the car, and our weekend was over.

We resumed our weekly rendezvous in her office. I was concerned that this would leave me flat after having her multiple times a day, but I was wrong. Absence does make the heart grow fonder and every minute with her was a treasure.

About three weeks after we returned from Puerto Vallarta, on March 5, 2009, Dahlia's life, and mine by association, took a dramatic change in direction.

The front page of "El Dairio" that morning read:

RIOTS BETWEEN RIVAL GANGS AT CERESO STATE PRISON LEAVE 20 DEAD

"Violence erupted at the prison in Cd. Juarez yesterday as prisoners rioted to protest the beating death of an inmate last month by guards at the prison. The latest death toll is 20, with as many as 100 injured.

"One of the dead is believed to be Javier Villegas Gomez, prominent heart surgeon from Monterrey, who was being held, awaiting trial on obstruction and drug trafficking stemming from his alleged association with the Zeta Drug cartel.

"It is believed that Dr. Villegas was killed while administering aid to an injured inmate.

"Details are still sketchy but it is believed that a disturbance broke out around 7:00 AM in the prison cafeteria...."

I did not need to read more. Although her husband's name seldom came up since she took Juan Carlos to visit him at Christmas time, I knew that this news would be devastating to her. She spent much of her life with the man, and he is (was) the father of her child.

As I was trying to figure out what I should do, my phone rang. It was Dahlia. I took a deep breath and answered the phone.

"Ola?"

"Ola, David. Did you see the paper this morning?"

"I did. I am sorry, Dahlia."

"Do you think it's true? I tried to call, but the prison would not tell me anything. How do the papers know, when the prison doesn't know?"

"Well, it is likely that he was injured, but it may or may not be true that he was killed. Do you know anyone in the local police department that might be able to find out for you?"

"I don't think so; they have been treating me like I knew what he was doing. They think that I am a criminal, too."

"Is there anything that you want me to do?"

"No, David. I need to find out what is happening and I need to do that alone."

There was a long pause on the line; long enough that I thought we had been cut off. Then I heard her sigh. "Oh, David, if this is true, I cannot be sad. I tried to cry, but what I really feel is relief. Am I evil for feeling that way?"

"Dahlia, the way you feel is the way you feel. You need not be ashamed. You gave your marriage every opportunity to work. It was Javier that should have been ashamed...not you. If this is true, you no longer have anything to fear. That is why you feel relief: the burden of fear has been lifted from your shoulders."

"David, you always know the right things to say. Let me say good bye and see if I can find out what is happening."

I did not hear from Dahlia for several days. Her office said that she had taken some personal time, and she did not answer her cell phone. I started to worry, but I did not know about what. She certainly had nothing to fear from her husband: his death was confirmed the following day. She certainly had nothing to fear from the Zetas: their doctor was dead so she was not a threat. I tried to figure out if she had taken her son, but I did not know where his daycare was located or who cared for Juan Carlos when she had to be away over night.

Then, five days later my cell phone rang. It was my regular business cell phone that Dahlia had not used in months for fear that her husband might monitor her calls.

"Dahlia, I was worried. Where have you been?"

"Just after I talked to you, the prison called and confirmed what we already knew. Javier was killed in the riot. They told me I had to claim the body, so that's what I did. I was going to bring him back to Monterrey, but he has no family here, and I certainly was not going to visit his grave, so I had a private burial in Juarez. Then Juan Carlos and I went into El Paso and flew to see my parents in San Diego. It really felt good to be home.

"I am sorry I didn't call, but I needed to think some things through."

I let out a sigh of relief. "I am just happy you are safe. Can I come and see you?"

There was silence at the other end of the line. "Dahlia, are you there?"

"Yes, David, I'm here....I don't think you should come over. Juan Carlos is very fragile right now, and I don't want to expose him to anymore life altering events."

"Are you sure that's it? I feel like there is something else that you are holding back."

"No, there isn't anything. I guess I'm just tired. I will talk to you tomorrow or the day after. I will call you."

Before I could say anything more, the line went dead.

Something was wrong, but I could not put my finger on it. She was distant, but that could have been because she had just buried her husband—not something a 33-year-old does very often. But still, I felt as though a curtain was coming down on a play before the final scene.

She did not call me the next day, or the day after that. There was something very wrong, and I had to find out what.

I tried her cell phone, but she never answered it, although I left a dozen voice mails.

Then, out of desperation, I called her office.

"May I speak to Dahlia Rivera, please?"

"I am sorry; she no longer works for the firm. Is there someone else who can help you?"

"No longer with the firm? When did this happen? I just talked to her a few days ago."

"I am sorry; I cannot give out that information. Do you wish to speak to anyone else?"

"Did she leave a forwarding number or any way to get in touch with her?"

"Sir, I cannot give out that information. If you want to leave a message I will make sure she gets it if she calls or comes in."

"No, no message. Thank you."

I hung up and had no idea what to do next. I tried calling her assistant, but she was as uncooperative as the receptionist.

What I did know was that suddenly Mexico felt alien to me and I just wanted to finish my job and go home. But where was home? I thought it would be here, at some point sharing a house with Dahlia and her son. Now, it looked like I had nothing.

Over the next few weeks, I poured all my energy into the project. There was still no word from Dahlia. Her house was vacant and her cell phone cancelled...she was gone.

Then I checked my email one day and there was one from Dahlia. I opened it, hoping for an explanation or anything that could make me understand what was happening.

Dear David,

Juan Carlos and I have moved back to California to be near my parents. This is something I should have done years ago. A boy needs to know his grandparents, and I feel I owe that much to Juan Carlos.

Right now, my focus is on him: he is the only man in my life. Being with you or any man is not fair to him after losing his father.

I also need to find out who I am and what I want out of life. I just got my freedom, and I am not ready to commit to anyone. I don't want to give you false hope that we can be together in the future, because when the time is right and I am ready for a relationship, I believe that I should seek out someone closer to my own age; someone who can help with Juan Carlos and be around to be a father to the baby I want.

I am very sorry that I left without much of a goodbye, but I think this is for the best. I hope you find everything in life that you are looking for.

Dahlia

PS: I dropped the diamond at the UPS Store in El Paso. It is there under your name, so you can either pick it up there or have it shipped to any address you want. It is truly beautiful, but it would not be right for me to keep it.

I read it over and over again, hoping that maybe the words would change and they would call out for me to come to be by her side. But the words did not change, and the message was clear: the love, for which I spent a lifetime searching, and which I briefly found, was gone. Within a few minutes, my emotions ran the gamut from relief that she was okay, to sadness to hurt to anger.

My reaction was to write an immediate response, but I knew from past experience that writing an email when emotions are not under control is a recipe for disaster.

I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and read some reports from the project. We were nearly finished and all that was left was a few details that the client brought to my attention during the walk-through. I was unable to focus; I read the same page a dozen times. I threw the report down and got into the shower.

No amount of water could wash away my feelings of loss and betrayal. It came so suddenly. It came without the telltale signs that the relationship is drawing to a close. In fact, the last time we met in her office, we not only had mind blowing sex, but we talked about the future. She suggested that she could work in Guadalajara and we could have a place in Puerto Vallarta for the weekends. We decided that with the bonus I was getting, we could easily afford both.




Hello Dahlia Ch. 04



Then her husband was killed and suddenly an email was all I had to show for the love I thought was going to change my life.

I went to bed, but sleep would not come. Although we only made love in this bed once, everything reminded me of her. It had been months since she was in this room, but I thought I could smell her perfume.

I finally got up and started to draft an email to Dahlia. It was hard, because I did not know what to say. I did not even know what I felt. Finally, as the sun was rising, and after dozens of revisions and two restarts, I was ready to press "send".

Dearest Dahlia,



I am so glad to know that you are safe, and for that reason alone, your email was appreciated. I don't know how I feel about the content.

I assume that Javier's death was the trigger that prompted the new journey upon which you now embark. With all that has happened recently, you certainly should get your arms around everything and discover what you want from life.

The finality of your message makes it clear that you see no romantic future for us. I think, however, given the intimate details of our lives and ourselves that we shared with one another, we are, at least, friends.

As a friend, I can tell you that change is stressful and nothing is more stressful than the death of a spouse. Knowing this I can certainly understand your misgivings and apprehensions about embarking on a new path this soon after such a loss. But I would like to remind you that our relationship (and dare I say, our love) started long before your husband's death. As I told you when he was first arrested, he is the cause of his own problems. He put himself on the course of self destruction by the decisions he made.

If your journey of discovery is for yourself, then it is a good thing. If it is to ease your guilt about something you feel you have done wrong, you are punishing yourself for something in which you had no part and for something over which you had no control.

Before I met you, I was like a man drowning in a pool. All I could focus on was the water that engulfed me. Survival was my only thought, so I thrashed in the water without looking at what surrounded me.

Then by accident or maybe by divine intervention I found a lifeline; I found you. I was able to relax and look around at my options and to think for the first time about what was on the horizon and not what was swirling around me. With the help of that lifeline, I was able to climb out of the pool of my loneliness, save myself and find love.

And now, things are reversed. You are drowning in a sea of emotion, guilt and obligation. You are not thinking of the future because it takes all your energy to survive the present. Like me, you need a lifeline, and I can be that lifeline, just as you were for me.

For an all too brief a time, you held fast to the lifeline I offered; you could look up and see the horizon and what your life could become if you would just let go of the guilt you carried. Now, in the email you sent, you let go of the lifeline and now you are thrashing in the water again, hoping only to survive until the next day, hoping things will get better.

I am still here, I am still your lifeline when (and if) you choose to grab it. This does not mean that you are making a long term commitment to me. It only means that you trust me to bring you out of a difficult situation, and that I am the catalyst to change your life from despair to happiness.

Just as you were my catalyst to give me hope and happiness, I can be that catalyst for you.

Love,

David

I know she got the email and read it (or at least opened it) but she did not respond. I sent her several more, but the last two were returned as being undeliverable because "no such email address exists on the system."

June 4, 2009 should have been a great day for me. June 4 was the day I turned the completed project over to the client. Despite all the distractions I completed it in less than 18 months. I was collecting a cool $250,000 bonus: who wouldn't be happy?

But something else happened on June 4, 2009 that made the accomplishment seem shallow and meaningless. I finally got an email from Dahlia.

It was short and the meaning very clear:

David,

Please do not try to contact me again. I have moved on.

Dahlia

I spent the next few days closing down the office and packing up my belongings. I figured the apartment would be my retirement home until Dahlia and I found a place together, but obviously that was not going to happen.

I threw everything into my truck and said good bye to what was left of my staff. I headed for Juarez so I could cross into El Paso and pick up the diamond that I had so lovingly selected for an engagement ring on our glorious weekend in Puerto Vallarta nearly four months ago. How could things change so quickly?

From El Paso, I would head for home, but where was home? I thought it would be in Mexico, but as I crossed the border, Mexico became just another foreign country where I had completed a project.

AFTERWORD

This story does not have a happy ending; it just has an ending. As in most love stories, one person gets hurt, while the other inflicts the pain. Sometimes latent desires and dreams are brought to the forefront only to be dashed to pieces.

I often about what I would have done differently, and I guess, the answer is nothing. The time I knew Dahlia and loved her is time I will treasure until the day I die.

Dahlia told me she moved on. I don't know if I emotionally moved on or not. I am now 56 years old, and I did retire, but after less than six months, I went back to work. I did a quick project in Rwanda and am back in Milwaukee until the next job comes along.

I don't know what happened to Dahlia. I have not heard from her in the 18 months since I got the devastating email. During my short-lived retirement, I went to San Diego to look for her, but finding a person name "Rivera" in San Diego is like searching for a needle in a haystack. Even though I was not successful at finding her, I felt better for having tried.

If anyone in the San Diego area knows Dahlia Rivera Lada, please tell her that David is thinking of her.