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Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 01

By: NassauHall



Author’s note: This story is a sequel to “Love and Terror on the 5:58,” although it can be read on its own. The Spanish phrases are usually defined. The term “pendejo” literally means a single public hair, figuratively a coward or jerk. Although it can be used with affection among friends, in general “pendejo” is a severe insult.

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An electronic squeak announced Dan’s words when they popped up on Dafna’s instant messaging screen. The words swept out of a blue sky like a storm, no introduction, letting loose a thunderclap in her heart.

DAN: Hi hon. Guess what? I’m coming to Mexico City on business. Can you believe it?

DAFNA: WAAWWW! I can’t believe it! Really? When? For how long?

DAN: Next week. The managing partner of my firm’s MC office has a big presentation to a big bank there. We’re bidding on the audit work, worth mucho dinero. I worked on the written proposal, now they want me there to write the slides for the orals and coach them on the presentations. My bonus this year could triple if we win.

DAFNA: You will be very busy?

DAN: Yeah, but you know how these things work. Once it’s done, it’s done. I’ve already told my boss I’d like to stay extra days. Flying in on Tuesday, work like a maniac until Friday morning, fly back Monday morning. I’ve got lots of vacation time. One guess for what I want to do on my vacation?

DAFNA: Either go to the bullfights or fuck me in real life?

DAN: Why not both? How ‘bout I fuck you at the bullfights? A little violence, a little sex. You’ll be shouting OLE in no time.

DAFNA: Mmmm, I don’t need bullfights to get me shouting OLE. You are my bull, with the big bull cock.

DAN: You’re kind. Wellllll, after all these months maybe it’s time to find out for real, yes?

DAFNA: Como no! Of course! I am getting wet at the thought.

DAN: I will pour tequila on your cunt and drink your cunt juices and tequila . Es el mejor delicioso! Not very good Spanish, sorry.

DAFNA: My pussy knows what you mean. Chingame vaquero. You know what THAT means.

DAN: Si, si. I will fuck you like a cowboy. And you will be my Aztec princess.

DAN: Are you there Dafna? Why don’t you reply?

DAFNA: I’m OK. Just crying a little. I am very happy to know you are coming. To see you real.

----------

The next day, Dafna almost ran her Jeep Cherokee into the guard’s booth at the entrance to the Anglo-American School, near her apartment in one of Mexico City’s most upscale neighborhoods.

“Hola, Senora Greenbaum,” said the guard in his crisp tan uniform, raising the gate. An Uzi, safety lock off, hung at his side. “Como esta usted?”

“Bueno, Joaquin, muy bueno,” smiled Dafna. Her clit still tingled from all the orgasms she had the night before, as instant messages ricocheted between Mexico City and Stamford, Connecticut, where Dan Lissner lived. Miles and borders vanished in their electronic lovemaking. The things he whispered to her in the dark, kissing her ear, licking her shoulder, his fingers easing down her panties . . . Dafna shook her head. No, she thought, I have math classes to teach. I need a clear head for the children. I’ll summon the memory later, maybe at lunch.

Dafna ran on automatic pilot for the first class, basic concepts for youngest children. By lunch, she was teaching integral calculus to the advanced students angling for places at top U.S. universities. The dreamy half of her brain had to switch to difficult mathematics, dx/dy and all that. By the time she settled in the lunch room, she almost forgot the electrifying conversation with Dan, but it came back with a jolt. 

“Hey girlfriend, you have a big smile on your face today!”

Dafna looked up. Her friend Velma, who taught English, sat down. “So, tell me, why so happy? You win the lottery?”

Dafna blushed, down to the roots of her shoulder-length light-brown hair. “Velma, remember that guy I told you about, the writer I met online? He’s coming to Mexico City. It’s for business, but he’s staying for vacation. He wants to see me.”

“You haven’t said anything about him lately. I thought maybe it was over,” said Velma. She took a bite of salad.

Dafna sipped her iced tea. “It is private. We say many things to each other. But we still talk to each other, yes. I like him a lot.”

“Does he feel the same?”

“He says he does. He is very honest.”

“The last man to visit was very honest, too.”

Dafna winced. The last man to visit was passionate and honest, she remembered, except for the small matter of the wife and child in San Diego. She found out about that small matter when she answered his cell phone while he was showering after they made love. The woman calling asked Dafna to please tell Rafael his daughter was in the hospital with pneumonia and, if it did not disrupt his business trip to excess, to please come home. “And you sound like a very nice woman,” said the caller, in a voice that suggested, through Dafna’s shock, that nothing surprised her anymore. 

Dafna shook her head. “Dan is not deceptive. He is a good man. We share so much. And if he is not honest? So, we have enjoyable times and then it ends.”

Dafna, do not kid yourself,” said Velma, a flash of anger in her dark eyes. “You were depressed for months after Rafael. He hurt you terribly. You were dying inside. I do not like my friends to suffer. He was a pendejo.” She paused. “Had Dan said anything about coming to see you?

“Not really. Some jokes about meeting in Texas.”

“Perhaps the jokes contained some truth.”

Dafna frowned. Had she missed a secret plea from Dan?

“Do you want him to come?” asked Velma. “You are opening yourself to pain.”

Dafna smiled. “I have to follow my heart. Others have wanted to come see me, and I said no. You know that. But with Dan . . . I would be dying on the inside if he didn’t come. I have to find out. I am going to be 48 years old. I am so tired of being hurt and being alone. When I talk with him online, I do not feel that way. He says I make him very happy. I want to meet him very much.”

“Is anybody else online making him happy?”

“So many questions! He’s in touch with other women. That’s the way we left things. We are so far apart. But he says he does not have online sex with anybody else.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes. If he is getting close to another woman, he will tell me. He said so. Dan said he would never treat a woman the way Rafael treated me. We have no secrets.” 

Velma, whose own love life was stalled, sighed. “You open yourself too easily, Dafna. We all have secrets. Saying you have no secrets is the biggest lie of all. But you feel good about this, really?”

“A little scared, maybe.”

Velma smiled. “Good! If you’re a little scared, you’re realistic. You see life clearly when you are nervous, because you are alert.”

For a minute they ate in silence. Another class of rowdy teenagers in blue blazers barreled into the lunchroom. Finally, Velma smiled, “OK, go for it. I know you are smart enough to make good choices and protect yourself. If you two ever get out of bed, I’d love to meet him.”

----------

The 90 minutes at the gym after school left Dafna panting. Arms, legs, tummy, butt: Dafna cycled through every machine that could sweat her in shape. Not that she wasn’t in good condition, she told herself. She cared about her health whether a man was around or not. Still, the thought of Dan coming (in every sense of the word) push her repetitions to the highest numbers ever. In the shower, hot water pricked her back as she soaped her breasts and stomach. Her muscles were sore but, like the scared feeling Velma mentioned, Dafna took the soreness as something good, evidence that she was scraping the rust off her body, leaving a soft gleam of firm muscles and buffed surfaces. 

She leaned against the slippery tile wall. The water cascaded off her head, over her shoulders, in warm rivers down her breasts and nipples, past her bellybutton and streaming into the luxurious curly brown hairs of her cunt. The hair spread up and out, touching her thighs. She had to dig a bit to find her clit. I’ll give it a shave before Dan comes, Dafna thought. He said he likes the trimmed look. I will look better at the pool, anyway. Maybe I’ll be a little aggressive with the razor, give Dan a surprise. That could be sexy.

She felt a jolt. Maybe, at that very minute, Dan was thinking of something sexy for her? They had had erotic thoughts of each other at the same time before, then raced on line to share their steamy ideas. She wondered what he could do to get even hotter looking than he appeared in the photos he had emailed her. With this thick chest and curly black and grey hair on his pecs and shoulders, he joked he looked “just like our Russian mobster grandfathers.” 

DAN: We’d better be careful. For all I know we’re cousins from somewhere back in Odessa.

DAFNA: That explains why we so alike. We both like to talk dirty to each other. We are both hurt too much. Both tired of sad and loneliness.

DAN: Dafna, mi amor, let’s play it like this. We are both ready to give and get pleasure. No more hurt. No more alone.

DAFNA: OK, mi corazon!!!! My heart.

The water’s warm embrace, the ache of the workout, made Dafna dreamy. One hand went to her soapy breast, while her fingers pressed against her clit. She sighed and spread her legs so her fingers could wander through the thick patch and the smooth lips beneath. I’ll play just for a minute, she thought. Her nipple hardened under her caress. Beneath her manicured fingers her cunt felt alive, exquisitely vulnerable, starting to pulse. Dan, Dan, in the shower with me, she mused. Cup my tits, pinch them, make them hard, slide your fat cock between my ass cheeks, right here, right now, let me guide you in, mi alma, my soul . . .

“Hey, leave some hot water for the rest of us, por favor.” The exasperated tone of a towel-clad, sweaty woman outside the shower stall broke the moment. Dafna deflated. Time to go.

“Si, si, un momentito,” she called. “Yes, just a minute.”

At her apartment, put on her nightgown and turned on her computer. Dan was online, signed in to his Yahoo account. She waited, expecting him to respond to the door-knocking sound that alerted him she was signed in.

Nothing happened. Minutes passed, and he had not sent her an instant message, even to say he was busy. This was unexpected. After his big announcement of the trip, she hoped he would jump at her. Instead, silence, growing louder as the minutes passed. 

DAFNA: Hola, Dan. How are U tonite?

Nothing. I will not panic, she thought. Do not act stupid.

DAFNA: DAN, are U OK? U are online but not responding. HELLO?

DAN: Hi, sweetie. Sorry. I was just finishing up with my friend Laurie Warshaver. You know, the woman who went to Princeton with me.

DAFNA: The woman you lived with?

DAN: We lived in the same dorm. Big difference! She just broke up with her boyfriend, the ex-alcoholic executive. She’s upset. 

DAFNA: U had breakfast with her the day those terrorists were caught in New York, yes? Before Thanksgiving? She made love eyes at you then, you said. Still doing it? Is OK if she does, really.

DAN: Wow, you remember everything. No, no more love eyes. Those days are gone. Just friends.

DAFNA: OK if you are more than friends. She love U?

DAN: Laurie and I are amigos, nothing more. We’re class officers, we have to keep in touch. Why this line of questions about me and other women? What gives? Something on your mind?

DAN: Dafna, you there?

DAFNA: Just, I dont know. I like U a lot Dan. Very excited about U coming down. Scary, U know? 

DAN: Scared at what?

DAFNA: Scared U may not want to be with me after we meet. I’m too old, too far away, too fat, maybe you love somebody else. Maybe U hiding something. Other men do that.

DAN: Oh Dafna, you are making me sad. Yo soy triste. I would like to think I am not like “other men.” I thought you knew me better than that. Couldn’t you tell how excited I was about coming down? You’re only 3 years older. Your age doesn’t matter to me. And you know, maybe you think I am far away from you. Distance works both ways. 

DAN: And fat? Please. I’ve seen your pictures. You know the Yiddish word, zaftig. That’s you. Big boobs, cute juicy ass. I couldn’t ask for more. I never liked anorexics. They’ll have to throw a bucket of ice water on me to get me off you! 

DAN: Remember what we said in the beginning? There’s more to us than sex? Even if something happens in our real life – fall in love, have sex with somebody else – we still have our friendship. THAT WILL NEVER CHANGE. Please Dafna my dear.

DAN: Trust me on that. I cannot change what you think, I can only tell you what I feel. That is what I feel.

DAFNA: Is OK to be a little scared? Is a big step.

DAN: Very big. Scary for me too, coming to see you. The virtual world merges with the real world. Our body parts merge. Yikes. 

DAFNA: Why yikes? You no want sex???

DAN: Oh, I want A LOT. Maybe I’ll go soft. Too much excitement. It happens to men. I’ve got insecurities too.

DAFNA: I make U hard with my mouth n tits n ass. I know what U like.

DAN: Yes, you do. More than my ex-wife ever did.

DAFNA: U make me feel good. Safe. I’m glad I clicked on your profile online.

DAN: And you make me feel hard.

DAFNA: Really? Right now? 

DAN: Want me to take my cock out? So you can touch it?

DAFNA: I want to suck U.

DAN: I’ll lick your kootch at the same time. You like?

DAFNA:!!!! I am getting wet, really.

DAN: Pues, mi chica, vamos a chingar. Well, my girl, let’s start fucking.

----------

The flight from La Guardia to Houston was typical American landscape. The flight from Houston to Mexico City, however, entranced Dan. Ascending, the plane pulled above a city that was surrounded by the piney woods of East Texas, office towers in the distance. If the Gulf of Mexico withheld its soaring cumulus clouds, Dan could see the ground clearly, scores of miles of rectangular fields, irrigation sprays painting green on the Texas flatness. Farther south, past Victoria, getting toward Corpus Christi, the view out the window turned straggly, dry, farms mixed with scrublands of mesquite and cactus. After an hour in the air, the suburban sprawl of the Rio Grande Valley marked the southern terminus of Texas and the United States. Dan had visited the Valley before while vacationing at South Padre Island, towns strung out in a wavering line from Mission through McAllen, Harlingen and Brownsville, like bubble gum stuck to the bottom of America’s boots. And then over the Rio Grande and into Mexico.

Flying on, the landscape resembled a sheet of dry crumpled leather as the plane raced over brown mountains and stripped hills, crazy-quilt fields in fractured patterns. Approaching the capital from the southeast, Dan saw the snowy peak of Popocateptl, then the great dirty smog cloud capping the valley holding Mexico City. As the plane circled Benito Juarez International Airport, Dan had the queasy feeling that he was being flushed down the world’s most rancid toilet bowl.

After one final run through the PowerPoint presentation for the Audit Committee meeting, he shut down his laptop and sank into his seat. Mexico City, again. How long had it been? He last visited with his ex, Rebecca, in December 1993, just before the peso crisis shredded Mexico’s social fabric. Rebecca was pregnant, they were relieved if anxious, the trip was a frequent-flier lark on his part after they attended a wedding in Houston. She was dubious – why not Florida? – but game. Then the pollution, altitude, and morning sickness smacked her down, so she spent most of the trip exhausted and wretching and reading Anne Rice novels in their room at the Hotel Maria Cristina, near the Zona Rosa and fortress-like U.S. embassy. Alone, he grabbed a map, subway tokens, and pesos for great swings through La Capital, in the last sweet days before the crime explosion made footloose tourism too risky. The strange trip grimly symbolized their marriage: when one was happy, the other was miserable. Dan and Rebecca could never synchronize their emotions, hence each resented what the other felt. And now, their patience and love long gone, they had ended the marriage.

The plane kept circling. Thoughts warred in Dan’s head. Work, the mad stress of getting the document and presentation right, Dafna down there nervous and waiting and wet. How would it be? What did he want? What did she want? Could any reality match the dreams dreamed over the months of electronic passion? The whole notion of traveling 3000 miles to see Dafna, savoring her body and heart, then returning alone to the workaday grind of a Metro-North commute and office politics struck him as insane.

Well, too much sane behavior had mucked up Dan’s mental health for too long. Caution left too many what-ifs in his life. Any time he did something a little crazy, Dan felt delight that he rose above his oh-so-responsible approach to life. He smiled. One rule guided Dan’s post-divorce world. There were no rules, no “I should” or “I should not.” Within the bounds of honesty, civility and safety, everything was an option. He could not wait to see Dafna. Maybe great pleasure, maybe agony, probably not tedium. But he had to find out for himself. 

His mind drifted back a decade to the first trip to Mexico City. The last day glowed in his memory. Rebecca had recovered enough to go shopping in the Zona Rosa. That was her desire. Dan grabbed a backpack, snacks and maps and jumped on the metro at the Cuauhtemoc station near the hotel. By 10 a.m. he arrived at the Viveros station, at the edge of the famous Coyoacan neighborhood. Rural up to the 1940s, Coyoacan was swallowed by the devouring mass of Mexico City but retained its upper-class charm and smart bustle. Cafes, art galleries, bars, cobblestone streets and freshly painted stucco buildings gave Coyoacan the feel of Greenwich Village or Cambridge (although those areas lacked shotgun-toting security guards, he admitted). For hours he wandered, with lingering stops at the Frida Kahlo Museum and the Leon Trotsky Museum, art and bloody politics mingling in his mind. Rebecca and Dan left for Brooklyn the next day. Departing, Dan felt frustrated, that for all his wanderings he had missed some essential part of Coyoacan. Next time we’re here, he thought, we’ll take another look around.

A decade later, that next time had arrived. Only now, there was no “we.”

His mind drifted to a more recent past, two nights before, the last long chat with Dafna. 

DAN: I’m staying at the Maria Cristina. I like the place and it’s close to our offices, on Paseo de la Reforma.

DAFNA: Niiiiiicce. Better than a corporate hotel. I luv the fountains there.

DAN: Muy romantico. The Hyatt’s not very romantic. 

DAN: I requested a room with a king-sized bed. Just in case you like me.

DAFNA: Silly! Good springs???

DAN: We’ll put it to the test.

DAFNA: Meet you at the airport honey?

DAN: That would be soooo nice, but no. The office will have a car and driver meet me, take me to the hotel. That’s the security policy. They started that after somebody got kidnapped by taking the wrong kind of taxi. I’ll get cleaned up then I’ve got to go to the office. This is a big proposal.

DAFNA: [uses crying smiley]. U make me wait for Ur kisses?

DAN: It’s hard for me, too. But this proposal is huge. I’d rather meet you when my mind is clear. After dinner? Come to the hotel for a drink?

DAFNA: Not safe to come in late. Unless I STAY, maybe?

DAN: Damn! There’s nothing I’d rather do but I have to be in the office at 8:30 to review documents and start coaching for the orals. I need to sleep. So, so sorry.

DAFNA: I coach you with your orals.

DAN: MMM, we do orals together soon. Lovely thought. I’ll get back from the office late, but we can talk maybe? 


Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 01



DAFNA: OK. I’m sad.

DAN: Dafna, I want you to have all of me, not half of me. When I work, I have to work hard. When I play, I play hard.

DAFNA: I like U harrrrrrd. Makes me cum harrrrrd.

DAN: You need to come bad. I can tell. You need help?

DAFNA: Help, help!

DAN: Are you naked?

DAFNA: I have on my nightgown. Take it off?

DAN: No. I like you in your nightie. It makes you more naked in a weird way. Comfy in your chair? 

DAFNA: I am ready for ur cock. Please!! No wait.

DAN: Well, missy, maybe I want you to wait. Not so good for you to come real fast. Better to make you squirm. Maybe a little? [uses winking smiley]

DAFNA: Chigame! Fuck me!

DAN: You are so horny. I can feel it in my fingers on the keyboard. Every time I type I am touching you, stroking you, reaching out to give you pleasure.

DAFNA: Yessssss.

DAN: You have the baby oil right there?

DAFNA: Um-hmmmm.

DAN: Good. I love to think of you in your nightgown, naked underneath, your body yearning for pleasure, your pussy tight and needing my touch. Your breasts sensitive to the fabric. 

DAN: It’s what I don’t see, what’s covered, that turns me on.

DAFNA: I’m turning you on?? Really?

DAN: De veras! The truth. I can barely keep from stroking myself as I write this. But I want you to come. You need it sooooo much.

DAFNA: Yes, I really do.

DAN: I’m closing my eyes and imagining your hands moving up to your breasts. You’re stroking them through the fabric. They are very full and sensitive. You love to touch them and have me touch them, right?

DAFNA: Mmm, yes, I love my tetas. They are so womanly and ready for U. I am holding them. They are ripe.

DAN: Playing with the nipples, just a little?

DAFNA: The nipples getting hard. I feel them through the nightgown. 

DAN: What can I do?

DAFNA: Put your lips on my tetas suck them like little cherries.

DAN: Funny, that’s just what I’m doing. I’m unbuttoning your gown and moving the fabric. Now I can see and hold them. So tasty, so alive and feminine and luscious. I’m rolling one nipple between my teeth and the other in my fingers. They ARE hard. And warm. I’m moving from one to the other. They both want so much attention.

DAFNA: I feed them to U.

DAN: That’s right. I love it when you hold your breasts and guide them to my mouth. I’ve always liked the way you enjoy your body so much. That’s a turn-on for me, Dafna.

DAFNA: I know! 

DAN: Now you’re putting baby oil on your hands and rubbing it on your boobs. You like?

DAFNA: Hold a sec. Let me squirt some on. 

DAFNA: Ooooh, I feel tingles from my tetas to my cunt. Ooooh again.

DAN: My cock is getting hard just thinking about you, so open and moist. Getting harder to type.

DAFNA: You need relief honney?

DAN: The lady always cums first.

DAN: And 2nd and 3rd and 4th, and then the man. I can wait. What are you doing now?

DAFNA: I am watching baby oil dribble down my stomach toward my pussy.

DAN: Moving slowly? I wish I was there to spread it over you. Make you shiny and hot.

DAFNA: It is how you say in English? Tormento to know you are there but not have your hands and tongue and cock on me. 

DAN: Not long, not long, mi amor. Think how good it will feel when I am beside you kissing your sweet lips and my hands opening your cunt lips. Giving you the pleasure you need.

DAFNA: I need now.

DAN: Welll, I know what we can do about that. Play with your nipple with one hand and move the other hand to your cunt.

DAFNA: OK. Feels very sexy. I smell myself.

DAN:!!!!! Really? Now THAT is sexy to think about. I’m fainting. Your pussy juices on your fingers? What do they taste like?

DAFNA: Taste muy bueno. Better with Ur jizz on them, tho.

DAN: It won’t be long! Now your fingers are wet. Just stroke them across your clit. However you like to play with yourself. Just lean back and let me talk to you.

DAN: Hands on the body beautiful, not the keyboard. I know what you’re doing.

DAFNA: U make me so happy Dan. I love you.

DAN: That makes me happy to hear. You mean so much to me. Now, let me whisper to you, let my fingers work your flesh, make you tremble. You are in my mind so much. I wake up in the morning my arms around a pillow, dreaming it’s you. I get hard at the office thinking about you. What we say, what we do. 

DAN: You have your fingers in your cunt, exploring. So much pleasure. Your boobs are so warm and full. I can see them in my mind.

DAN: Think of me there. You have my cock all to yourself. Big, hard. All for Dafna. You like a good cock, fill you up, come inside you, touch your lips. Yes?

DAFNA: Yesssss. Getting cloooooose.

DAN: I like that thought. You are ready, and I am there. You finger yourself and you take my cock in your mouth. You want me. You are like a tigress, taking your pleasure. You pull me close and run your tongue over my cock. You make me stand still and not touch you. 

DAN: You can give and take pleasure at the same time. A wonderful ability.

DAN: You hold my balls and move your mouth farther onto my shaft. I see your head moving. I want to touch your nipples but you don’t want me to. I stroke your hair. Que bonita chula! I’m going crazy thinking about you.

DAN: Your cunt is very full of your juices. Your cunt feels tight under your fingers. My cock is swelling in your mouth. Finally you put my hands on your breasts so I can stroke and squeeze them. The oil makes them slippery and VERY hot. For both of us.

DAFNA: Dan.

DAFNA: Oh, Dan. . . . I I I

DAFNA: Fallinnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggg

DAN: And then you run your tongue and hand over my cock and I cant hold back and you can taste a little jizz on the tip and your fingers are fucking your clit like crazy and it is too much.

DAFNA: Gooooodddd.

DAN: And I cant stand it start to buck my hips can feel a surge from my toes blasting through my balls and cock, like a wave through me, forcing out at one place and you can feel the hot jizz flooding your mouth and

DAN: and your cunt explodes and we’re connected like two lovers and you are coming and I am coming and we are yelling and moving and then it’s over. We hold each other on the floor and kiss and hold each other very close. We are lovers at last.

DAFNA: ohhhhhhhhhhhh.

DAFNA: I came twice. Very hard. I think I fainted. I can’t move. Limp like a rag.

DAN: And that was just your first two orgasms tonight!

DAFNA: Will it be like this in real?

DAN: Better. We’ll be together. No keyboards in the way. Just us. Hard to believe.

DAFNA: U are so special. So hard to wait.

DAFNA: Hello? U there? Dan?

DAN: Thinking. It’s been a long wait. I’m tired of being alone. Tired of divorce, tired of empty bed and arms. I want you Dafna.

DAFNA: I am waiting 4 U, mi alma.

----------

Dan bounced as the plane touched down. Exit sweet memories of Dafna, enter business-traveler reality. “Buenvenidos a Mexico,” the captain said on the intercom. Dan gazed out the window. Unlike U.S. airports, Juarez International did not sit in splendid isolation far out on an urban fringe. Instead, it reminded Dan of an asphalt island battered by ceaseless waves of city slums. Wire fences served as jetties, barely containing the tidal surge of poverty and violence. 

After passing customs, Dan saw a driver holding the sign “Sr. Lissner.”

“Estoy aqui. Vamanos,” he told the driver, hidden behind reflective shades. “I’m here. Let’s go.”

“Bueno,” he said.

They climbed into the firm’s own urban assault vehicle, a Mercedes SUV with shatter-proof, heavily tinted windows and steel reinforced doors. The doors locked immediately. In minutes, they plunged into a honking maelstrom of Tuesday traffic leaving the airport. The tinting lent everything a calming tinge of blue, as if the car were submerged in a shark tank. The car radio played peppy mariachi tunes, tear-drenched Mexican pop, and rapid-fire news. Mexico City rolled by: frustrated, loving, sweaty, deadly, smelly, curvy, corrupt, laughing and alive. Dan mused, Dafna’s out there, somewhere -- if she actually exists. Sometimes she seemed like a projection from his turbulent soul, a mirage of hope in a parched, loveless world.

After 45 minutes the Mercedes steered into the downtown area. Dan grabbed his bags and checked in. He glanced around. Except for the extra security guards outside, the Maria Cristina had not changed in the 10 years since Rebecca and Dan had toasted their impending parenthood. Fountains still gurgled in the cool, tiled center atrium, where guests ate breakfast and lunch. Deep leather chairs and couches lined he hallways around the center area. A murmur of piano music – Cole Porter, quite well done – drifted from the bar. Yes, just the same, thought Dan, just right for a new romance. And yet he felt inutterably sad, pursued by ghosts of love won and lost. 

“God damn,” he thought, shaking his head. “God damn the way it all turned out. I still can’t believe it.”

The smiling desk clerk handed him two packages. Without looking he shoved them in the outside pocket of his computer bag. Once in the room, he unpacked clothes, splashed cold water on his face, pulled a Coke from the room refrigerator, then settled into a chair to get organized. The first envelope was the typical firm welcome for visitors. Hours, services, tech support, graphics and design support, cafeteria, security, transportation, restaurants, similar to packages he’d seen in Dallas, Atlanta, Cleveland, Chicago, Denver, Miami, Silicon Valley, Hong Kong, Toronto and London. Now he added Mexico City to the list.

The second large envelope bore the writing, “Sr. Lissner. Personal y Confidencial!” in a bold but feminine handwriting. 

With the tip of a finger he opened the envelope. He peeked inside, then turned the envelope over to shake out . . . the most adorable silky light blue panties he had ever seen. They weighed nothing, but seemed charged with electricity in his hand. A note drifted out of the envelope. The shock of the intimacy drove him to his knees to pick up the note. He read it that way, on his knees, like a supplicant enthralled by a holy relic. The note said, “Hi honney, welcome to Mexico City!! I know you like panties. These maybe will keep you happy until we meet. XOXOXOXO Dafna. PS. Last night I wore these and fingered myself until I came. Can you tell???” 

He raised the panties to his nose and inhaled. Yes, he could tell. Dan gently rubbed the panties against his cheek and beard. Dafna’s unexpected gesture overwhelmed him. Blushing at the rush of emotions, Dan blinked away tears. 

So she does exist, he thought. Dafna is real.



Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 02



Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 2

The story so far: Online lovers Dan Lissner and Dafna Greenbaum finally have a chance to meet while Dan is on a business trip to Mexico City, where Dafna lives and works as a math teacher at an exclusive private school. This is a big step for a couple wondering how to take a fulfilling but sometimes frustrating virtual relationship to the next level of intimacy. They learn to their dismay that works sometimes gets in the way of pleasure. However, Dafna has her own way of coping.

Some vocabulary notes: The word “dayanu” is Hebrew. It is the title of a beloved song sung at Passover. It means “enough for us.” In the context of the song, it refers to the mighty deeds God did for His people. For Dan and Dafna, it connotes something like, you have done so much for me. I am satisfied, although I know more is to come.

The reference to the actress Lauren Bacall followed by the phrase “Bacall b’seder” is a Hebrew-English pun. “Kol b’seder” is a Hebrew phrase for “everything is OK.”

“Oy vey” is a Yiddish that means “good grief!” more or less.

“Lilith,” in medieval Jewish mythology, was Adam’s first wife, before Eve. Lilith demanded equality and represented the feminine dark side of divinity. Dan uses the name as a symbol of female sexual aggressiveness.
---------------

Dafna Greenbaum raced back to her apartment after dropping the surprise package off at the Hotel Maria Cristina for her online lover, Dan Lissner. She felt elated, confident, scared, naughty. She was sure Dan would go crazy over the package, a pair of freshly worn panties. She knew her Dan. 

The panties were the easy part, however. For all her bravado, Dafna wondered if she were heading for heartbreak. She had become intimate with men online before. Sometimes it became raunchy, sometimes frightening; in the case of the San Diego computer marketer, Rafael Bocanegra, both. Until Dan, he was the only online lover to visit Dafna. A suave, aggressively romantic and possessive man, Rafael was passionate in his assertions of love and utterly false in the details of his marital status. The phone call from his wife shattered her dreams then. She threw him out the door as soon as he got dressed. She alerted the tough Israeli security guards who protected her apartment building, to ensure Rafael entertained no hopes of returning, then or ever. Oh that night, her tears, the fury, the lover’s corruption like a bleak dawn vaporizing the hopes of the night. 

And so, Dan. Their online passion bloomed so quickly, after she read his profile and hit the chat button on the dating site to which they both belonged. After preliminary throat-clearing they switched to Yahoo instant messaging, and four amazing, orgasm-drenched hours later they signed off. Sunday morning was near in Connecticut, Mexico City remained in sultry spring night. Neither, they admitted later, slept much after those hours of confessions, linguistic puns criss-crossing English, Spanish and Hebrew, past lovers, their faith, Zoloft vs. Wellbutrin, secret desires, her abortion after Rafael left, travels around the world. Only after two weeks of almost daily electronic conversations did Dafna pause.

“What do you know about him? He talks a good game, but that’s what men do,” warned her friend Velma Rodriguez, an English teacher at the Anglo-American School in Mexico City, where Dafna was a highly regarded math teacher and faculty sponsor of the film society. 

“I know what his profile says. Divorced, one kid, interested in music, film, volunteer work,” said Dafna. “His profile doesn’t say he is VERY interested in sex, but he is.”

“Every man is. That’s a given. Look, I just want you to be safe,” said Velma, the faculty sponsor of the computer club and webmaster of the school’s website. “Let me check him out. Give me his address and full name and let me do some Internet searches. Maybe he’s a saint or maybe he’s . . . what’s that Yiddish word you like to use for a pendejo? A smock?”

Dafna smiled. “A shmuck, not a smock.”

“Whatever. Before you get too deep, I’ll see what I can find.”

Dafna looked teary. “Velma, I am in deep, already.”

“I’ll run some checks today.”

True to her word, Velma ran Dan’s name through Nexis, US Search, Factiva, KnowX, Switchboard, and Google, cross-referencing the results to uncover discrepancies and the little lies that lie coiled in the shadows of a bright new romance. Nexis showed him still living in Fairfield, Connecticut rather than Stamford, but Velma knew address updates took months to show up on Nexis. She ran down the facts Dafna provided. Princeton – check. Forty-five years old – check. Divorced – check and double check on that detail. Previously wrote for a music industry magazine – check, with lots of concert reviews and marketing articles bearing his by-line available on line. She even searched the weblog www.littlegreenfootballs.com, where, Dan had said, he often posted acerbic political comments under the nom de web “kibitzer.” He did. 

She even searched on the name “Laurie Warshaver,” Dan’s Princeton classmate whom Dafna said had made “love eyes” at Dan at a breakfast they had shared in New York in November. Yes, she went to Princeton and was a top executive at a foundation in Philadelphia. Photos from the foundation’s online magazine showed a woman who bore a surprising resemblance to Dafna, younger and taller, but with the same broad shoulders, excellent posture, prominent bust, and poise. A shadow around Laurie’s eyes hinted at quiet sadness. Still, Laurie was very fashionable and attractive; Velma thought, “I wonder if Dan made love eyes back.” Velma bookmarked the pages, but decided to say nothing to Dafna. 

After her last class, Dafna checked her mailbox in the administrative offices. She found a note from Velma: “Dafna, super news! Dan is a total honesty machine. I’m impressed! Full speed ahead!”
------------

Dafna mentioned Dan to Velma a few more times, but then became quiet about the relationship. Dafna feared to speak too joyously of the e-affair, given Velma’s own struggles with romance. And, she had grown tired of friends warning her about online affairs, carping about their supposed shallowness, the dead end of distance, and whether true love and intimacy could blossom and lead to anything substantial in such an environment. Rather than explain and argue, Dafna either kept quiet or simply said she had no complaints. True, she still enjoyed coffee or dinner with other men, and swatted down the rare pleading phone call from the infuriating Rafael, but she found emotional and intellectual satisfaction in her chats with Dan. 

She only lacked the physical component. True to their frankness, she spoke about this with Dan.

DAN: What’s cookin good lookin?

DAFNA: Hard day at school. Training session after classes. Lots of traffic. Tired.

DAN: Pobrecita! Can I help you relax? 

DAFNA: OK. Sure.

DAN: That did not sound like a very enthusiastic OK.

DAFNA: U know me too well.

DAN: Digame, amiga. Tell me my friend. Is something on your mind?

DAFNA: OK. I will be honest with you.

DAFNA: We are not any other way, right, honney?

DAN: Absolutely.

DAFNA: Our lovemaking is grrrreat. You make me feel so good. 

DAN: I feel the same.

DAFNA: I close my eyes and I can feel U Hear U taste U.

DAFNA: But sometimes

DAFNA: Sometimes I get frustrated.

DAFNA: We not together. We have everything but we are so far apart. 

DAN: Not the same as a real warm body.

DAFNA: Right. 

DAN: We’re masturbating with words on a screen to help us. On some level we are just imaginary images to each other. Fucking with phantoms. It’s sex in the brain, not in the body.

DAN: I guess that sounds harsh.

DAFNA: Is true. I want U so much. Is a problem with Internet romance.

DAN: We have an intense but in some ways superficial relationship. Not real. It’s easy to form friendships with people all over the world. But very hard to take them to the next level if that feels right.

DAN: And this feels right. To me.

DAFNA: I very happy to hear that. But what to do?

DAN: Here’s how I look at this. Forgive me for sounding too much like a management consultant. That’s what happens when you work in professional services. I’ve thought of the same stuff.

DAN: I’m really glad we’re talking about this.

DAFNA: Me too.

DAN: Option one. Realize the sex is a dead end and agree to be friends.

DAN: Option two: Keep the sex, keep the friendship, keep looking for other relationships closer to home. Possible, complicated when other people get in the act. Psychodrama city.

DAN: Option three: Stop all communications and say it was great fun but it was just one of those things. Not meant to be, can’t have friendship after sex, even non-physical. Down the memory hole.

DAN: I’m listing that just for argument’s sake. I don’t want to look behind door number 3.

DAFNA: Good!

DAFNA: That’s it?

DAN: OK, deep breath time. Option four: Do what big people do and get together.

DAFNA: Oh, Dan. WAAWWWW.

DAN: There, I’ve said it. Still want to talk to me?

DAFNA: Mas, mas, mas. More!

DAN: The question is, how do we make it happen.

DAN: Dafna, you know how limited my budget is. 75 percent of my pay goes to apartment, child support, credit card debt. My life is not as expensive as when I was married, but I don’t have much wiggle room. Vacation time yes, money for expensive vacations, no.

DAFNA: I don’t make much money as a teacher. Meet in the middle? I got my passport. Always curious to see Arkansas.

DAN: Let’s hold off on Arkansas for the moment. I’ve got a better idea. You need to understand my firm a little better. OK?

DAFNA: I like whatever you say.

DAN: Our firm has struggled in Mexico City. Layoffs, looking high and low for new clients. Things are stabilizing a little. Problem: the firm laid off too many people. Not enough are left to do proposals.

DAFNA: Which bring in the new business.

DAN: Exactamente. Now, we have a new system in the firm, the way people like me get assignment. Open market staffing.

DAFNA: ?????

DAN: Hard to understand, I know. Basically, proposal writers like me have some choices in the projects they work on. Once we get assigned work done, we can choose to work on other projects that are unstaffed. Teams can do proposals on their own, but it’s always better to have a writer involved.

DAFNA: Still not clear.

DAN: Put the Mexico situation together with open market staffing. It means I have opportunities to pick up assignments in Mexico, and Central America, even, since everything down through Panama is handled out of MC. I see what’s available, and if I have the time, I come down to do the work. That’s how I got the assignment in Hong Kong.

DAN: This just became a work option in MC. Nobody else really wants to go there. I do. I guess I’ve got reasons. 

DAFNA: Come here at company expense? 

DAN: Nice hotels, expense account. Not a bad way to do things. Possibility of charming company.

DAFNA: U really want to come here, not find somebody to fuck in New York? I understand if U do.

DAN: Not so easy for a man with high standards (like me). If I do you’ll be the first to know. YOU want to find somebody in MC to fuck? Big Mexican stud on a burro? Somebody to whack your sweet little piñata with his love stick, make the candy cum out?? Hey, I’d understand if YOU find somebody to fuck. You’ve got needs I’m not meeting.

DAFNA: My heart broken too many times. Sex one thing, love harder to find. Hombre like you es imposible.

DAN: Y la misma por una mujer como ti. Same for a woman like you. Sounds like we’re on the same page.

DAFNA: U are frustrated?

DAN: VERY. That’s why I would jump at the chance to work down there. I mean, we need to do something.

DAFNA: When could it happen?

DAN: Don’t know. Sorry. 

DAFNA: Xciting. 

DAN: I check our proposal database every day. It’ll happen fast when it does.

DAN: Notice I said “when” not “if.”

DAN: Because it WILL happen. Otherwise my cock will shrivel and die. It needs to meet its long distance friend.

DAFNA: Oh no no no. Must not happen. Ur cock too precious to me.

DAN: Maybe my heart would shrivel too. 

DAFNA: Mi amor!!!!!!!!

DAFNA: !!!!!

DAN: But one thing at a time.

DAFNA: U naked?

DAN: I thought you’d never ask. Only from the waist down.

DAFNA: Dayanu. That is enuf for me.
----------

The office managing partner, Hector Izaguirre, shook hands with Dan and had his secretary bring coffee. “I am very pleased you are here, Dan. We have little time. We must make a strong argument and win,” he said, formal in a pinstriped suit. “If we win this audit, it will ensure the health of this office for years to come. And we will have the stature in the marketplace to win other clients.” Hector’s corner office, high over Paseo de la Reforma, reminded Dan of partners’ offices on Park Avenue in New York, Younge Street in Toronto, Biscayne Boulevard in Miami, Public Square in Cleveland, Peachtree Street in Atlanta, Wacker Drive in Chicago, Crescent Court in Dallas, and on and on. Locations changed; partner perks were eternal. 

In a glass enclosed conference room, Dan plugged in his Dell laptop and had a technician connect him to the local network. Hector and other partners and senior managers, the select few supporting him at the Audit Committee presentation, gathered to discuss key messages in light of what they were learning every day about the committee and its members. Who supported the incumbent auditor, who wanted a fresh look, what they thought about fees. The presentation would have only a dozen slides, but each word, each supporting comment from Hector and the team, had to be prepared with excruciating care. Their jobs depended on it.

Hector took a phone call while Dan mapped out the script and timing of the presentation. His Yahoo messenger screen popped up.

DAFNA: U exhausted honney? Niiice flight?

DAN: Good flight, in the office. Shouldn’t be too late. I had a surprise waiting at the hotel. Now where did THAT cum from?

DAFNA: U like?

DAN: I am walking around with a u-know-what. But I’m at the office, they can monitor my IM conversations, got to keep it clean and short.

DAN: Back at the hotel by 9. Call you then? Unmonitored conversation?

DAFNA: Goooood. Byeeeeee.
----------

Through the plate glass windows fronting the second floor of Dafna’s health club, she had a wonderful view of Mexico City. Pounding away on an elliptical walker, her CD player spinning early James Taylor, Dafna could see her 20-story apartment building across the street. The name, Casa de Palmas, was apt, since spindly, 40-foot high palm trees lined the driveway and dotted the grounds. Orange trees, bougainvillas, and other plants lent Casa de Palmas a lush tropical look. When she felt romantic, Dafna fantasized about slipping a flower behind her ear and strolling the grounds with a lover, a silk sarong hugging her curves. 

While it looked tropical, Casa de Palmas could also sound Mediterranean. Israeli businessmen assigned to Mexico City liked the building’s security, location in the fresh-air hills overlooking the city, and the excellent private schools in the area. The building’s management even used Israeli security guards, no-nonsense army veterans who made the building the safest in the entire area. The hallways echoed with as much Hebrew as Spanish.

Down the hills from the building Dafna could see the twinkling lights of the city, endless rolling waves of blinks and flashes spilling down the hills and across the great bowl of Mexico City. It reminded her of Los Angeles, city without end, patchwork of fortresses and refugee camps, knit together and always fraying, yet alluring and full of surprises and pleasure for those who could navigate its sunny and menacing streets. 

For the moment, Dafna saw only ceiling tiles. On her back on a padded bench, she pushed 15-pound hand weights up in a crisp set of presses. She could feel her pectoral muscles under her breasts tightening under her sports bra and Hebrew University sweatshirt. The slight burning felt good as she expanded her physical limits. One more set and then she would stretch and cool down, followed by a shower, and then a quick walk across the street to her apartment and then Dan should be in his hotel . . .

“Shalom, Dafna,” said a voice to her side. Dafna blinked and turned her head. Upside down, she saw a face she recognized.

“Hola, Amit,” she said to the person, Amit Shemtov, a wiry security guard from the building. “Have the evening shift off?” 

“Yes, I switched shifts with Shlomo. I don’t mind working days sometimes. So, I came here,” said Amit. He wore a sweaty t-shirt bearing the shield of the tank corps of the Israel Defense Forces, or IDF. With his Yemenite olive skin and black hair, Amit could pass for a Mexican, particular an Indian. His flawless Spanish made him a natural choice for work in Mexico and Latin America. He would be an excellent spy, she thought.

“That’s good. I like variety in life. Sometimes I do the machines, sometimes the weights. Too much of one thing gets boring,” said Dafna, mopping her face with a small towel. She felt damp all over.

They chatted about work, the building upgrades, nothing important. They had an easy, friendly relationship, although Amit was 20 years younger than Dafna. Among friends, he said, what does age matter?

“Oh, Amit, I’m glad I saw you,” said Dafna before she headed for the cool-down mats. “I have a friend visiting from the United States. He’s staying at a hotel, but he may come to visit. His name is Dan Lissner. Just so you can have him on the guest list.”

“Good, Dafna. Your friend is my friend. He will be welcome,” said Amit. He paused. His brow furrowed slightly. “Speaking of people who are not our friends, have you had more calls from, what’s his name?”

“Rafael?” said Dafna, frowning herself. “Yes, a few days ago. I hung up on him.”

“Is he dangerous? Do you feel threatened?”

“No, just aggravated. He is a jerk. Harmless.”

“We still have his picture and name on the watch list, so he won’t disturb you here.”

“Thank you so much. He is not a good man.”

“I will talk to him if he is a problem. I know where he can be reached.”

“Thank you, but he is not a problem.”

“Forgive me for asking, but Dan, he is a good man? Not like Rafael?” Amit had been on duty the terrible night Dafna, screaming and shoving, threw Rafael out of the apartment. Dafna later confided the whole sorry story to her young friend.

“Yes, he is a friend.”

To Dafna’s ears, Amit paused a beat too long before responding.

“I am glad Dafna. You deserve happiness.”

“We all do, Amit. Well, time to shower.”

“Lila tov. Good night.”

Sitting on the padded bench, Amit watched Dafna walk away, her full hips swaying beneath her sweat pants. He liked what he saw. And he liked Dafna.
----------

Dafna stepped onto the balcony of her 15th floor apartment. She loved the view, the serene quiet of the height and the slight aroma of evening flowers drifting far up from the gardens and paths below. Lights twinkled in the distance. A warm breeze ruffled the blinds. She heard kids playing on the swings and slides. Children, she sighed, always children . . .

The chirruping of the telephone broke her reverie. She glanced at a clock: 8:45 pm.

DAFNA: Hola, quien habla? Hi, who’s speaking?

DAN: I’ll give you one guess.

DAFNA: Honey! You’re a little early to your room.

DAN: If you’re busy I can call back.

DAFNA: I want to talk now. Just a second. Let me close the drapes. Privacy, no?

DAN: Privacy is a good thing.

DAFNA: OK. You are comfortable?

DAN: In the living room, got a soda. God it was good to get out of my suit and shoes. I’m not used to this formal way of dressing. Your voice sounds so sexy to hear from close. It’s been a long time since we talked.




Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 02



DAFNA: Ummmm, Dan, hearing you gives me shivers, from my head to my pussy.

DAN: Wow, to hear you actually talk that way. That’s so different from just typing.

DAFNA: And how do you like me to talk, my lover? What do I say that you like.

DAN: Well, you know, when you, um . . . 

DAFNA: Why, Daniel, I believe you are shy. Are you blushing?

DAN: OK, you got me. Yeah, a little. It’s one thing to write, it’s so much more intimate to say these things.

DAFNA: But mi amor, what things?

DAN: You know. Mmmm, when you talk about your pussy, your breasts, what you want to do with your body. From your mouth to the center of my brain.

DAFNA: Your voice is so sexy. Would you like to hear me say what I want to do with your body?

DAN: Yeah, sure. What you gonna do with your boy toy?

DAFNA: Dan, first, do you have your clothes on?

DAN: T-shirt, pants, no socks.

DAFNA: Take off your pants but leave your t-shirt on. Go to the bedroom and lie down. 

DAN: You’re talking my language. Hang on, I’ll get the phone extension in the bedroom.

DAFNA: And get the Vaseline I know you always travel with. Get it out.

DAN: Man you understand me. Hang on.

DAN: OK, all set up, just the way you wanted it. 

DAFNA: I wish I was there mi amor. But my voice will be there. I want to give you pleasure. Oh, so much pleasure. Your voice is so delicioso. You are fucking me with your voice. Do you know that?

DAN: Sure I do. And your voice, the way you purr in my ear like a big cat. You sound like a Mexican version of the actress Lauren Bacall.

DAFNA: Hahaha. Bacall b’seder?

DAN: Yeah, everything you say sounds OK to me. Everything feels good.

DAFNA: I want you to lie back on the sheets. They are cool and comfortable, yes?

DAN: Keep talking and they’ll be sweaty before long.

DAFNA: Dan, I want to fuck you through the phone. I want you to feel me and smell me through the phone. Can you? 

DAN: I’ll try.

DAFNA: No, don’t try. Lie back and relax and do it. Pleaaasee? I need to give you pleasure.

DAN: Mmm, hey, I am getting some pleasure already. Thanks.

DAFNA: I can picture you there. You have only your t-shirt on?

DAN: That’s it.

DAFNA: Your cock, it is getting hard?

DAN: Harder by the minute.

DAFNA: You have your hands on it?

DAN: One hand on it, another behind my head. I’m just stretching out.

DAFNA: You have the cream on your hand? On your cock?

DAN: Yep. Feels awfully good.

DAFNA: Oooh, I have to touch my cunt. I am in my nightgown. I would like to be on my balcony. Is very sexy there with a lover. Very high up, the breeze blowing on me. I would love to suck your cock out on the balcony. You like that idea?

DAN: You can suck me wherever you’d like. In the middle of the Zocalo. No, the Frida Kahlo Museum!

DAFNA: I make your wishes come true. You laugh! You do not know me as well as you think. I am very passionate with my lovers.

DAN: I think we’re about to find out more. Maybe I can make you blush. Maybe you’re a virgin in some ways.

DAFNA: We will find out so much. Dan, I am very turned on. I am going to start by just watching you touch your cock. It is so beautiful to see you that way.

DAN: Mmm, you know what you like.

DAFNA: Dan, I want you to just listen. Just listen and do what I say. Don’t talk. I am going to fuck you in such a special way, yes?

DAN: OK, you’ll just hear me moaning with pleasure. But if I want to say something, I will. Sometimes sex just has to be a little noisy.

DAFNA: Bueno. Do you have the panties I gave you?

DAN: Right here by the bed.

DAFNA: Good. They are very sexy. This time just yesterday I was wearing them, right next to my clit, my cunt. I pressed them up against me while I lie down on my bed and look at a picture of you. I got hot. Hold them, Dan. Feel my pussy on them. So hot to think about. I give my body to you with them. You are holding them and have your fingers on them. Oh so sweet, such a sweet hard man. I cannot wait. I am touching myself now talking to you. But don’t talk just listen. You are holding my panties. I want you to touch your cock for me. You are hard?

DAN: More by the minute.

DAFNA: We go slow, many minutes of fun, yes? I am there. I see your cock, so hot, standing up. Your hand is on it, like a boy touching it for the first time. So new so fresh.

DAN: It still is, after 35 years of the same thing. Go on.

DAFNA: I am standing beside you, watching. You are hard and big. You have your hand on your cock. It is getting swelling. You can feel it so sensitive.

DAN: Very.

DAFNA: Good. I have the phone in one hand and I touch my teta with the other. For real. You like that I know. Take your other hand, now suck your middle finger. Get it wet.

DAN: Let me put the panties down. If I drop the phone I’ll call you back.

DAFNA: Good. I can see your finger in your mouth. I want it wet so you can put it in my pussy. I need it there. Your finger your cock. I am there looking at all of you. So big, so hairy. Now thinking of reaching out to touch me just a little. I stand by the side of the bed, just my bra on. Don’t say anything. My cunt is near your head. You can smell it so sweet and fresh for you, yes? You put the tip of your finger on my clit. Oooh, it feels so good Dan so good to be close to you. Finally I am very wet. Can you feel my clit? It is just like your cock, hard so sensitive feel it. Touch it. I trim the hair today so it is very open and easy to see and fuck. You like. You like to see me good? Tell me.

DAN: Mmmm-hmmm. 

DAFNA: Still touching yourself.

DAN: Yes. I’m vibrating like a tuning fork here.

DAFNA: I no want you to come. Not fast no. You can wait? I make you cum hard like a volcano. Your jizz hit the ceiling. 

DAN: I could almost do that now.

DAFNA: Wait, let me fuck you more. I want to give you so much pleasure my lover. Is special time for both of us now that you’re in Mexico. 

DAN: You’re driving me loco, you know. Meshuggahmacher, you know that word?

DAFNA: Crazy maker in Yiddish? Yes, my grandmother from Ukraine used that word. You mean in a good way? Not mad at me?

DAN: Dafna, good God, I couldn’t be mad at you. Crazy about, but not mad at. You’re driving me crazy with lust. That’s all.

DAFNA: Yes, we both crazy with lust. We need it give it to each other. I am leaning over you. My tetas are in front of your face. I put my hand on yours. We hold hands on your cock. Is sweet, yes? Lovers holding hands for the first time.

DAN: No time like the first time. Reminds me of a sexual senior prom.

DAFNA: I move your hand on your cock. Slowly. I feel it get bigger under our hands. It is very beautiful for me. Can you see my nipples, how they are hard. Do they smell nice. Before you call I put a little perfume on them. Fees so good in my tight bra. Like you holding them. I lean over you so you can suck my tetas. You take one in your mouth. Lick it, little circles around the brown nipple. Good, eh? My bubeletas are for you Dan all for you. Like your cock all for me. Now you kiss my teta all around, lick it good. Put your teeth on my skin I like that. I put it in your mouth you suck it in. You lips all around me like you give my teta a blowjob. I am filling you up your mouth so warm and wet on me. Maybe you play with my tetas with your hands. Feel how big and soft they are? You are a boob man Dan you know how to treat them. Make me wet. Now you are putting your wet finger between my pussy lips, hair very short I’m wet you can see me good.

DAN: I’m losing track of how many hands I’ve got in motion here. I feel like a sexed-up octopus. I wish I had enough hands and cocks to touch you everywhere at once.

DAFA: I feel how hard you are. My teta tingling my pussy so warm and full for you, really, right now, while I fuck you on the phone. I want to fuck you now. I get on the bed and slide on top of you. I need your cock in me very much so much, your kisses on me. I want you to kiss me and be my love. 

DAN: Dafna my love, my God, you’re making . . . 

DAFNA: Shhhhaaah, I am there, sliding your cock in my pussy. On top of you, my legs on your sides I slide a little bit down on your cock. Oh it opens my cunt lips wide. They want you. So sexy to finally be making love after long time! You can see everything. I hold nothing back from my lover. I look down and see your fat cock pulling my lips open. You need me, yes, need my kisses and fingers and love.

DAN: Oooh, yes, Dafna, keep going, now I’m getting close.

DAFNA: For real? Gooooooddddd. I want to hear you cumming, hear how good I make you feel. Do you roar like a lion or squeak like a mouse? I want to hear you. I am sitting on your cock, like a giant over you. I put my fingers on your hairy man nipples. They are hard like little berries. Your cock is like a big rocket shooting up in me all the way inside. I move up and down slowly on you tighten my muscles around your cock don’t let you go. We are like a . . .

DAN: What the fuck was that?

DAFNA: What mi amor? Are you hurt? Is something wrong?

DAN: Christ, it’s my cell phone ringing. Hang on let me get it.

Dan sat upright on the bed, shaking, his cock pulsing painfully, hands slippery as they groped for his glasses on the night stand. He was dizzy. Dan felt like he had hit a brick wall and been spun around. Through his haze of arousal he focused on one simple task at a time.

Find the phone. Flip it open. Count slowly one, two, three to recover composure, then hit the “send button.” Dafna heard shards of conversation:

DAN: Oh, hi Hector. . . Everything’s fine, just kicking back here in the room. Yeah, great hotel, I’ve stayed here before. . . . You got some informal feedback from the chairman of the Audit Committee . . . uh-huh, un-huh, yeah, we’d better reword that part of the presentation. . . We can be that flexible on fees? Wow, we are hungry for the business. . . Right, I noticed that . . . Yes, the hotel’s got good connectivity. I’m sure I can log on and get the file . . . Just those pages? No problem, Hector. Sure I can have it by 8 tomorrow morning. I’ll change the wording tonight. No, I’m fine, really, just a little winded. What, it sounds like I was in the weight room? No, nothing like that, must be the altitude effecting my breathing. I’ll be like a native tomorrow. . . OK, great, thanks, happy to handle it, Hector. . . Buenos noches to you, too, amigo.

Dafna heard the cell phone click off.

DAN: Fuck. Double fuck. I’ve got to plug my computer in and change some pages on the presentation. The office managing partner just sent me some notes. That was uncalled for. We could fix it in 10 minutes tomorrow morning.

DAFNA: Pobrecito! I wish I was there to hold you and give you many besos. My poor lover.

DAN: Well, it’s their pesos that got me down here. I’ve had worse trips. 

DAFNA: You still hard?

DAN: Hmmm, a little. Sort of broke my concentration. Damn, I was really close to coming. You would have liked that!

DAFNA: I want it for you.

DAN: Just like I want to give you pleasure.

DAFNA: You do Dan, so much. More than you know.

DAN: Maybe we can try again. I guess I do feel a little out of it right now. I’m getting a headache. Let me just lie down for a minute and calm down.

DAFNA: OK. Just relax. No pressure. I’ll be here.

Dan stretched out, his cock shriveling like a corn stalk in a summer drought. He closed his eyes. The long, long day rolled over him like a wave of mud, a sluggish chain of car services, security check points, airports, computer screens, and now bad air, high altitude, too much Mexican food at dinner, and, worst of all, throttled phone sex that left his heart racing and balls aching.

DAN: Dafna my dear.

DAFNA: Yes, my lover, are you ready to fuck some more?

DAN: Dafna, I’m sorry, I think I’m going to throw up.

Dafna heard the phone clatter down and the bed springs creak. Running footsteps faded away until, in the distance, she heard ragged wretching. And then more wretching. Finally, a toilet flushed and the footsteps grew louder. A body collapsed on the bed.

DAN: I feel like shit. I just puked my guts up. So romantic. Sorry.

DAFNA: You have done all the work today, but pleasure is hard for you sometimes to find. I know you Dan.

DAN: We were so close, so close. I can barely move. I’m just flattened all of a sudden. I can’t even think about sex at the moment. Great beginning for us.

DAFNA: Dan do not be sad. We have much time after the job is done. Who told me, ‘I work hard and then I play hard’? You did. Maybe too much work and fun for one day. Is OK with me. You have to adjust to Mexico. Hard city the first day or two, then you fine. 

DAN: Are your terribly frustrated? I can’t even say dirty things to you.

DAFNA: Is OK, really. I take care of it. Fix the files for your boss. Keep him happy so we can be happy and you can come back soon. 

DAN: Already thinking about the next trip? We haven’t even started this trip!

DAFNA: I think about a lot of things. You need to keep your boss happy. Don’t throw up on your computer. 

DAN: Dafna, please don’t talk about throwing up or it’s going to happen again and I may not make it to the bathroom.

DAFNA: Sorry.

DAN: That’s OK. I just don’t feel good and I don’t want to work.

DAFNA: Work fast and go to bed. Pleaassssse. I get you hard again tomorrow.

DAN: Promise?

DAFNA: With todo mi corazon. With all my heart.

DAN: Then let’s do that. I really gotta rest. I didn’t know how tired I was.
DAFNA: Go, mi amor. Feel better.

DAN: Don’t have too many orgasms tonight. Save some for me.

DAFNA: Always orgasms for you, Dan. I never run out.
----------

Dafna settled back on her couch. First Dan was there with her; then he was gone, sick and forced to work. She had listened with dismay as the verve and sexual urgency drained from his voice. Perhaps it was best for Dan to rest and save up his jizz for her. Still, the wait felt excruciating. Dafna trembled in frustration. Their loping conversation stirred her imagination, while her fingers stirred her cunt, the brown hairs prettily shorn and shaped into a heart. Dan’s pre-sick voice penetrated into her bloodstream, shaking her so she did not know what to do. Sit down. Stand up. Look out the curtains. Check the TV listings. Her favorite Mexican soap opera, “Las Vias Del Amor,” or “The Tracks of Love,” had ended. She didn’t want to watch the news, or any of the U.S. channels. 

In a mirror Dafna appraised herself, running her hands and eyes over her body. She liked what she saw, her brown-blonde hair cascading to her shoulders, the long slender fingers, hips molded into decent shape by the hours at the gym. A little jelly on the belly but natural for her age, she thought. Her breasts – the breasts Dan rhapsodized about even though he had never seen them – were almost as firm as they had been 10 years earlier. Having no children, she sighed, must have some good side. Unlike many women, Dafna considered the mirror her friend. It had been hard work, but she had learned to like herself, and she knew that men found that a turn-on. Many men, in fact, called her attractive. Her pictures on the dating site where she met Dan drew many comments, some admiring, some leering. Her looks started many conversations. So why hadn’t she ever . . . ?

“No, I won’t think that way,” she thought. She sat at her writing desk and spun around. She had to admit it: Dafna was so aroused she couldn’t think straight. Dan was sick and working, so he could not whisper sweet words in her ear. Well, she thought, if I cannot have Dan live, I will enjoy him another way.

She pulled a drawer open from her desk. Rummaging under papers and books, she finally found what she sought: a three-ring binder bulging with laser-printed pages. She gently set it on the desk in front of her Dell desktop computer and gazed at its cover. It bore a decoration she had drawn at the Anglo-American School, with the words “Libro de Mis Pasions,” or Book of My Passions.

She had to thank Velma for the book, in a way. Two years earlier, at school, Velma introduced her to instant messaging, during Velma’s conversation with another computer buff about obscure Web techniques. 

“I’ll never remember all these details,” said Velma.

“Can’t you take notes?” asked Dafna.

“There’s an easier way. I’ll just save it and print out a copy for my records. I’ll get all the details,” said Velma.

Dafna looked at her blankly. Dafna knew nothing about instant messaging, much less about what to do with them. She watched Velma fire messages back and forth with her friend, a programmer in Finland. The lines scrolled across the screen almost as fast as Dafna could read. Velma’s fingers paused only long enough for her to read the new comments on the screen, then she’d blast an answer back.

“Wow,” said Dafna. “That looks fun. You can save that?”

“Sure,” said Velma. “It’s just a text file. There’s nothing special. Only once you close the window you lose all the copy.” Velma showed her how to save the conversation. Sure enough, once the session ended, Velma had a record of the intricate coding she needed to update the school’s website. She opened the text file, then printed it.

“Everything we said, preserved for as long as I want it, for future reference. I don’t have to remember anything,” explained Velma. “I’m building a library of the best Web techniques in the world.”

Velma opened Dafna to a new way of using the Internet. Before, emails zipped back and forth, but more like discrete handwritten letters than a conversation. Now she knew of another way to work the Web. She signed up for the IM chat feature on the dating site she joined later. Suddenly, the world bloomed into a dizzying banquet of conversational morsels. She could pick and choose and then nibble – or, when the spirit moved her, gulp -- conversations with men anywhere, anytime. This one talked about books, another how faith sustained him after a terror attack, work, ex-wives, sex, losing his job, her job, her childhood in Latin America, their passions and disappointments, her hopes, his enormous and powerful penis and would she like to see it in .jpg or .bmp format? 

Most conversations, it is true, moved to the essential matter of sex, either online or in person. For all her experience in life, she had a certain primness, an expectation of men opening doors, calling her after a date, engaging her mind before they lunged for her body. The Web erased the possibility of small gestures. Cloaked in anonymity and the endless possibilities, men made the lunge much faster. Or, she wondered, do I simply attract the lusting lungers? 

She recalled the very beginning. Within minutes of signing up for the service on the site where she eventually met Dan, a man in Ohio beeped her. He said he liked her photos and profile; she glanced at his and he looked decent. The conversation was mundane, at first.

How’s the weather in Mexico City? 

Warm, dry this season. You say you like music?

Yes, the Cleveland is so blessed with wonderful culture. And you just can’t beat that good old Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

You know, this is my very first one-on-one chat here. I am having such fun.

You are a lying bitch. I’ve seen you on here before. NEVER lie to me, do you understand that? Answer me! I should come down there with my cuffs and fuck you silly. That’s what lying cunts like you DESERVE. Answer me, damn you.

Dafna immediately hit the “end” button and blocked the man from Ohio from ever contacting her again. Next, she alerted the site administrators of the madman’s abuse. Within an hour she had an email from the admins informing her that the man had been permanently banned from the site for violating the terms of service. Though pleased, Dafna shuddered; how many women how either played along, or said nothing despite their fear?




Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 02



Dafna stared at the Dell’s 17-inch screen. Its size accentuated the threat that rolled by. Already another man, from France, was knocking at the electronic door. Dafna switched off the chat function, hugging herself and saying, Dios mio, my God, what was that? I just wanted to talk. He was insane. This is how people find love?

Shaking, she checked the locks on the apartment door, then drew the balcony blinds tighter. Caller ID glowed on her phone. She eyed the speed-dial on the phone connecting her to building security, where one push brought Uzi-wielding guards within two minutes. 

Calm down. Breathe. Remember the tai kwan do classes. Center yourself. He’s gone, forever. I’m safe. 

Dafna had seen the world in her travels. Her street smarts kept her safe in Mexico City, Tel Aviv, Moscow, Paris, Johannesburg, rough places. Still, this was different. The freak poured his rage directly into her home, on the screen next to pictures of her parents, her sisters, her nieces and nephews, Dan and his daughter Shayna, a picture of her as a high school student bobbing like a grinning cork in the Dead Sea during a trip to Israel. The screen was still. The man from France was knocking on an empty building. Nobody, at the moment, was home. She had turned off the tap to the poison. Still, Dafna did not calm down until she had taken a long, soapy shower and wrapped herself in her fluffiest, most protective bathrobe. 

Dafna waited several days before she dared to chat again. The experience was too horrible. She told Velma what happened.

“Hey, you find sickos everywhere,” she said over a taco salad in the lunch room at the Anglo-American School. “Sorry for the bad first experience. Did he get your real name or phone number?”

No, I would never give them to somebody I didn’t know very well,” said Dafna. “It happened so fast. In an instant he went from normal to nuts.”

“Men are loco. You never know what they’re hiding. You always know what they want,” mused Velma. “If something doesn’t look or sound right, decline the invitation. Or invite the guys that you think are decent to chat.”

Carefully, Dafna tried again. She declined many invitations and extended only a few. Gradually, she had better experiences. The weirdos usually revealed themselves quickly – their compulsions forced themselves to the surface despite the men’s best efforts at restraint and deceit. She encountered men from all over the world; who would imagine the many guises of loneliness? Management consultants so burned out on travel they could not tell her the city they were in; the newly divorced; the decent never-married men with hearts numbed for lack of a woman’s touch a word a single act of feminine kindness. The elderly pretending to be middle-aged; the teen-aged pretending to be 30-somethings; the middle-class pretending to be single and rich. 

Rabbinical students in Brooklyn terrified of their momentary escape from study halls but frantic for a word with a woman, any woman. Scholars eager to discuss Mexican politics in the era of Vicente Fox. Married men who were almost, almost divorced. Teachers, soldiers, former Wall Street executives newly released from the terrors of prison. Men in deserts, men in snow, men into other men but doing a bit of slumming and might Dafna be agreeable to their fantasies?

Finally, Dafna recalled the very few men who touched her and drew her into their own unique worlds, especially Rafael Bocanegra with his snake-charmer magnetism and deceitful soul, and Dan Lissner, whose decency, humor, and intelligence simply made her feel warm and safe and liked for who she was, not to mention thoroughly aroused.

Dafna viewed the chats as an online cocktail party. She’d meet, say some words, and move on. In a few cases she settled on a couch with the man for more animated conversation. When she felt something especially appealing and urgent, well, she and the man would exchange Yahoo or Hotmail instant messaging addresses and duck into the electronic bedroom to strip for bracing electronic sex, sometimes once, sometimes for several sessions. Only with Rafael and Dan, however, did the virtual lead to the real.

The best of the chats she saved, as Velma had shown her. The files meandered over so many topics – music, books, Latin America, sex in public places, the fleeting nature of love, careers, lingering glances, teasing lines, passionate words and blinking smileys – that the print-outs could span 50 pages. Some conversations even came with illustrations, when men emailed pictures of themselves. Oh, what they sent! Shirtless, pantless, on horses, with guns, with the biggest damn fish they’d ever caught, with the President at a fundraiser, with their kids, with their wives (what would the wives think about this? Dafna wondered), soft cocks, hard cocks, cocks like batons, cocks in hands cocks on tables cocks springing out of unzipped tuxedo trousers. Oy vey, what would a man not do with his cock and a camera! 

So that night, with Dan ailing and working, Dafna opened her treasured Libro de Mis Pasions and began to flip pages. The frustration of interruption faded into a warm glow of solo sexuality. Memories of sudden, tumultuous online quickies stirred her. The fever of a new lover, even one touched only with a keyboard, was thrilling. As Dafna turned the pages, the heat spread. Each page carried an image, and, hungry for pleasure, her hand drifted down to her cunt. The shorter pubic hair gave her fingering a new electricity. She was more naked, aggressive, unashamed. Finally she came to her favorite conversation of all, the one that never failed, in these moments when she lacked Dan online, to make her moan. She found their very first encounter, two kindred spirits stumbling across each other. Dan was so startled and so funny.

DAFNA: We only know each other a little time but I like U. Sweet and sincere. Sexy pictures.

DAN: Thanks. You seem really nice. I liked the picture you sent: que bonita. Very pretty. We’ve already talked two hours. That’s a good start for people who’ve never even seen each other.

DAFNA: Dan I ask you something. Be honest OK?

DAN: Sure. Ask away.

DAFNA: Don’t lie to me OK?

DAN: OK, OK, ask already. You’ve made me curious.

DAFNA: U are very sexy. I want to make love with you as we chat. Right now.

DAN: I’m flattered. I don’t know what to say. This is VERY surprising.

DAFNA: OK if we don’t. I just

DAFNA: have a good feeling about you. I’m sorry.

DAN: Dafna, why sorry? Nothing to be sorry about. I’m sliding around on my chair at the thought. I’m just, what, startled. Nobody’s wanted to do this, ‘til now. It’s been so long since I had ANY kind of sex with a woman, why, I don’t quite know what to do.

DAN: So, how do you have sex online? I’m serious. Educate me.

DAFNA: Is very sexy and easy. U just write what you want to do. I write back what I want to do. Read and write then cum. Like letters to Penthouse. You have lovers, you do sexy talk with them?

DAN: Well, I was married for 10 years, I don’t remember much sexy talk recently. I vaguely remember Rebecca and I did that before we started having silent angry sex.

DAFNA: I will not be silent and angry with U Dan. I like U a lot. That OK?

DAN: Very OK. Just a little hesitant. Rebecca and I slept together on our first date. Look at all the trouble THAT got me into. This is just fun for us? Two adults enjoying themselves, no tears, no demands?

DAFNA: Nothing but now Dan. I promise.

DAN: OOOOOkay. So, what do we do? You’ve got my total attention!

DAFNA: Mmm, a new lover make me verrrrry excited. I think of U there with Ur hard cock waiting to be in my pussy. I have my panties down I play with myself. U have clothes on?

DAN: PJ bottoms and a sweatshirt. It’s snowing here, you know. Your new lover, hmmm? Maybe we’ll be old lovers some fine day. You never know.

DAFNA: I reach my hand through the screen and touch Ur cock. It is so big and hard. I can tell.

DAN: Aren’t you the Lilith of my dreams.

DAFNA: Hahaha. Yes I tempt you like Lilith but all good, no evil. 

DAN: I think I will reach through my laptop screen and rub your shoulder blade. I love women’s backs and shoulders. I swoon when I see a halter or sun dress.

DAFNA: I wear one for you someday, make your cock hard for me so I suck it. You like?

And so it began, hours of delirious, increasingly bold sucking and fucking and kissing and caressing and laughing and, when the conversation detoured to the aches of loves pursued and lost, sighs and tears. Re-reading the file, Dafna felt the surge of the new. Hope, so fragile and easily smashed in her life, had bloomed again, despite her fears that hope would never turn to love. Dan and Dafna had sustained their friendship and passions longer than she imagined they could last. Dan and Dafna had come so far, and now they were so close, a matter of miles. As a final orgasm ripped through her body, Dafna dreamily thought, “In a few days, we will know what is meant to happen.”



Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 03



 [Vocabulary notes: In a moment of passion, Dafna babbles "sin fin ain sof." Sin fin is Spanish for without end. Ain sof means the same thing in Hebrew.

Maccabee in Hebrew means hammer. The Maccabee brothers threw the pagans out of the temple in Jerusalem and gave rise to the holiday of Hannukah.

Meshugah means crazy in Hebrew.

Dormir is "to sleep" in Spanish.]

-----

On Thursday, Dafna woke up feeling troubled. Her online sweetheart Dan had arrived in Mexico City, and, thank goodness, had adjusted to the altitude and the ratty air. Wednesday, after he landed, they had some brief contacts, an email he sent at mid-day when she arrived home from teaching and a phone message while she attended her tai kwon do class at the gym across from her apartment building. 

"Hola Dafna," Dan Lissner said into her phone machine. "I am still at the office. The partners are taking me to dinner this evening at a place called Tezka, in the Zona Rosa. Supposed to be great. The presentation coaching is going well. I don't know when I'll be back in my room. I miss you mucho and can't wait to see you. Lilah tov."

She returned at 9 pm. Dafna listened to the message three times. Dan had a wonderful, slightly gravelly voice, but, she thought, a little hesitant. What was the tone? He talked about work so matter-of-factly, then said he missed her. What was that catch in his voice? Did he really mean to say, "I love you"? That would be something to hear! But for the first time to say that, it would not be appropriate to say on a phone answering machine. 

Dafna felt vaguely discontent when her sister Leah, in the border town of McAllen, Texas, beeped her on Yahoo IM.

LEAH: Hola big sister how is your evening going?

DAFNA: Not so good. I don't know. Dan is here in MC but we haven't talked as much as I expected. We haven't seen each other.

LEAH: Do you think he's avoiding you? He came a very long way to see you.

DAFNA: He came for work. I happen to be here. Have I done something to scare him away?

LEAH: Silly. You have said he works very hard and the project is important. Let him concentrate on that.

DAFNA: But I want to see him!! We talked online so much before he came. Now's he's always in meetings or dinners. Maybe they found a puta for him.

LEAH: Such insecurities! Very Dafna, very sad. He changed his plane ticket. He has the hotel for the weekend. Is he going back on Friday, after the project ends? Tell me that.

DAFNA: Noooo, he's still leaving on Monday.

LEAH: After he spends the weekend with you. If he was leaving right after the project, OK, I see a problem, but he's not. Don't let your anxiety ruin this. Let the poor man get his work done and then he'll have eyes only for you.

DAFNA: He didn't want me to meet him at the airport. He got sick when we were talking the first night, late dinner last night. Busy again tonight. Not a good pattern.

LEAH: Listen to me. Please. Tomorrow is Friday. The project ends, you get together this time tomorrow and you'll know. You're getting so worked up you'll start turning him off before he even has time to kiss you. Everything will be great. 

DAFNA: What if we see each other and he's disappointed?

LEAH: Oh those insecurities! Dafna, dear, listen to me. You are a wonderful, loving woman. I don't know Dan but he has always liked you for who you are. You are both risking a lot by meeting. See what happens. Look to be happy not sad.

DAFNA: Am I going too far?

LEAH: Yes, my sister. Don't go neurotic and drive him away. This sounds like a broken record. If nothing else, you'll get a little vacation at a nice hotel!

DAFNA: True. Everything is good so far. I should see what happens. Not go crazy.

LEAH: And you and Velma are coming here to McAllen over the summer. We can have fun in the sun here. If things work out, perhaps Dan can come with you?

DAFNA: Don't know. Ask in 48 hours. How do you like living in the US?

LEAH: Well, here I don't have to speak English very much, except when I'm dealing with the schools or the shul. There's just a reform temple, no other choices.

DAFNA: In case things don't work out with Dan, any cute guys there.

LEAH: Many, but they are all in high school so that may be a little problem. 

DAFNA: Not for me! I'll take them young.

Dafna stared at the computer. Not for me – the phrase had many meanings. What WAS right for her? Her eyes felt moist as she thought of her sister in Texas reading the same line. Leah had the life style she wanted. The adoring husband, the two kids, spacious town house, time for tennis and temple, enough domestic help to have dinner parties and Shabbat dinners (even if the help seemed baffled by the songs and candles. The helpers were girls fresh from Mexico, eager to start a new life in McAllen's worn-down colonias. None of them had ever seen a Jew although they had heard all the priests' lies).

LEAH: Are you OK sis?

DAFNA: You have a wonderful life. What did I do wrong?

LEAH: Sis you have done nothing wrong. Hear me? Nothing. You've traveled, you got your PhD, you control your time, great apartment, you've met a wonderful guy. You think running a household in a new country with two kids is easy? You want to trade places for a while? I won't argue with you!

DAFNA: OK, I'm just anxious. It's like Hanukkah when we were kids. We waited and waited and knew something fun was coming but then we got sick and cranky from the tension.

LEAH: But Hanukkah always came right? Is Dan your Maccabee?

DAFNA: Yes I want his big hard Jewish hammer.

LEAH: I bet you do! That, or a Jewish plumber? Poor baby, your plumbing is clogged.

DAFNA: Not like you married women, sex all the time.

LEAH: Sis, what planet are you living on?

DAFNA: I know. I was just letting my mind wander.

LEAH: Speaking of sex, a little sisterly advice.

DAFNA: Tell me.

LEAH: You DON'T have to have sex like you do online. Well, that's your business but sex can screw up a relationship. What's online is one thing. But when you're together . . . one doesn't mean you do the other.

DAFNA: I've learned that lesson too many times.

LEAH: If you both want that's nice but get to know him. For real. Talk to each other. If it doesn't work in person it's easier to accept that if you haven't slept with him. Are you OK with that? Not my business but still . . .

DAFNA: You're my sister. You can tell me. I may not do what you say, you and Mom know that! But I'll always listen. 

LEAH: No big lecture. Just protect your heart. You bruise easily, like a peach. I will scratch Dan's eyes out if he hurts you!

DAFNA: [heart smiley] Thanks!! I know him well, as best I can. I have even chatted with his best friend from childhood, Clayton. Dan said I should get a "third-party opinion." He says that's accounting talk.

LEAH: I didn't know he had you talk to a friend. That's very unusual. What's Clayton like?

DAFNA: Very good friend. They played baseball together. Clayton lives in Houston, very involved in Christian activities. He's been to Guatemala for mission trips, he calls them.

LEAH: He didn't start bugging you to become a Christian did he?

DAFNA: No, no. He was very respectful and just said what a great guy Dan was. He's in accounting, too. I don't understand most of the stuff Dan talks about from his work. I'm just a math teacher.

LEAH: One heart + one heart =??? He'll understand that.

DAFNA: He'd better! -----

Dan staggered into the room at 11 pm. The phone blinked with a message. He listened to Dafna say he could call her until 11:30 pm. After getting undressed and splashing cold water on his face, he called her.

DAFNA: Hola.

DAN: Hi, I'm back in my room. Another long day. I miss you.

DAFNA: It is very hard for you to work on these projects.

DAN: It can be. The hours, the stress, the partners. The team is very anxious. I do as much therapy as communications consulting. I need to reassure them and keep them focused on the matter at hand. They tend to panic and throw in everything they can think of, which waters down the message.

DAFNA: But who calms you down, mi amor? What happens when the writer gets tense?

DAN: I've learned to live with it. I can talk to the project organizers if I want to kick around ideas. But I've just got my own ways of relaxing. You know that!

DAFNA: It will be over tomorrow morning, no?

DAN: That's it. Done. I meet the team at 12 to chat, go over final issues. I'll make sure they have enough copies of the leave-behind document with their photos and a summary and our pitch. That document gives the team one final way to impress the selection committee. Then they go to the bank and it's in God's hands. I went to the site and measured and took pictures. We mapped out exactly who sits where, and where our equipment goes. 

DAFNA: You will go to the presentation?

DAN: No. Never. My job will be done. The team does the presentation alone. The audit committee does not want to see the peones like me there. We stay in the background. Afterward Hector, the lead partner, will probably call to tell me what happened. We already know the client liked the proposal itself. I'm just relieved it's over. The decision will be made next week. Or, it could take longer, depending if management and the audit committee disagree on who the auditor should be. That happens. 

DAFNA: You are quiet, Dan. Is something wrong?

DAN: Tired. Anxious. And crazy to see you tomorrow. I have to struggle to concentrate knowing you're so close. Getting together, that's still the plan? No big guy in a sombrero taking my place yet?

DAFNA: Why, do you want somebody to take your place?

DAN: No, but I don't want you to feel pressured. There's still time.

DAFNA: Dan, where is this talk coming from? You don't want to see me, you want me to find somebody else and tell you, sorry? That's loco!

DAN: I want to see you in the worst way. But, but, it's scary. I won't be the guy at the other end of the phone or the computer. I won't be whatever ideal you've got in mind. Maybe I'm too short.

DAFNA: Dan! You are making me sad. I don't idealize you. Do you feel pressure that I am going to drag you under the chuppah before you leave for New York?

DAN: Well, is that the plan?

DAFNA: No! It I had wanted to be married, I would be, by now. I want your friendship. Oh, and your body. So good a friend, a wonderful love. Don't create pressures where none exist.

DAN: I'm good at that. And I'll give you the same advice. 

DAFNA: I know. You're good at other things, too.

DAN: Like what?

DAFNA: OK, Mr. Management Consultant, I tell you in terms you understand, OK? One, you are very funny. Two, you listen to me with both ears and your heart. Three, You understand me. We are soulmates. Four, You make me verrrrry horny. What else does a girl need?

DAN: Whatever you need, you'll get it tomorrow. How's that sound? You know I'm crazy about you and can't wait to see you.

DAFNA: I know. I am very excited. A long time since you met somebody new?

DAN: A very long time since I met somebody like you. It's hard to believe. We should both sleep well and get our beauty rests.

DAFNA: You have heard from your friend Laurie Warshaver lately?

DAN: Where did THAT question come from?

DAFNA: Just curious. I am feeling un poco insecure myself. She made love eyes at you, you said. I am a jealous lover. I want to gobble you up all by myself, no sharing.

DAN: OK, you asked an honest question, so I'll give you an honest answer. Yes, we're in touch – on a professional basis. We are both officers of our Princeton class and we're working on our 25th reunion, a very big deal. We have plans to make and I'm the class officer in charge of communications.

DAFNA: You like her? She makes you hard?

DAN: Dafna! We are friends. No love interest since I was 19 years old. We met in November, the day that terrorist attack was foiled, and the past was on my mind, but that's what it was, the past. She's just too neurotic and needy for me. We haven't met since then.

DAFNA: But she has big tetas. I saw her picture online.

DAN: Well, don't you have big tetas too? And even if we had met, what would that mean for us? We can both have friendships with other people. We have lives, interests, jobs. Would I be here in Mexico City counting the minutes until we met if I wanted to be with somebody else? Are you looking for reassurances of some kind? Dafna, what can I say?

Dafna said nothing. She sensed something slipping away, like she were a boat drifting from an emotional dock, toward a whirlpool.

DAN: I have a question, too, since we are asking things. Have you heard from that guy lately, what was his name, Raul?

DAFNA: His name is Rafael. Yes, he is very persistent. He knows not to come here, but he keeps calling. I told him to leave me alone, that a very special friend was visiting me this weekend. He accepted that and hung up.

DAN: I'm glad to hear that. He sounds like a bad character.

DAFNA: I can handle him. He is a jerk.

They were silent. The conversation stopped, as if they had lurched into a dead zone between desire and anxiety.

DAN: I asked if you were looking for reassurance. You need something from me?

DAFNA: I don't need reassurance. I just need you, Dan.

DAN: But you have me! Can't you take yes for an answer? You have my heart and mind and you'll get my body tomorrow. You hit the trifecta.

DAFNA: Trifecta, what's that?

DAN: Sorry, that's a horse racing term. It means to pick the first three horses in a race, in the right order. Let's just keep things together until tomorrow, and then we'll see how things go. Let's be happy.

DAFNA: I keep you happy now? Whisper sweet things in your ear?

DAN: I'd love to but I'm too wound up from the project. I don't even know if I can go to sleep. I just want it to be over so we can have the weekend. OUR weekend. Then we'll whisper all kinds of sweet thing to each other. 

DAFNA: OK. I had a hard day at school. You know Friday is a short day at my school? Everybody goes home at 2.

DAN: Snow day?

DAFNA: Ha ha. Not in Mexico City. No, just the way private schools operate near the end of the year. We have one early closing on a Friday each month, so families can leave earlier for their country houses, or to the US.

DAN: Private jets?

DAFNA: Some of them, yes. Rich brats some of them.

DAN: Are you packed for your big trip to the city? Suntan lotion and sturdy shoes? I'm sure we'll be walking a lot. Or do you think we'll be indoors some? It is a very nice hotel.

DAFNA: O yes, I will show you around the city. I never let you rest.

DAN: And your feet will never touch the ground. Maybe I'll keep them on my shoulders all weekend.

DAFNA: Oh Dan, yo soy tanto feliz, I am very happy. 

DAN: I can't wait to hold you. Kiss you. You know that.

DAFNA: I do. Let's say good night and be fresh. Let's dream about each other and compare notes. We have sexy dreams of each other, don't we?

DAN: Great idea. Then we act out the best parts.

DAFNA: Buenos noches, mi amor. -----

Amit Shemtov smiled as an Israeli businessman and his family passed through security at Casa de Palmas, the apartment building where Dafna lived in one of Mexico City's most exclusive neighborhoods. Amit monitored traffic in and out of the building and the garage. The residents, many of them prime targets for kidnapping and terrorist attacks, felt safe in the building with its no-nonsense Israeli security staff. A quick look over the security desk showed the monitors covering all parts of the building.

Some things the residents did not see. A separate monitor bank in the security office, away from public view, watched the area beyond the buildings grounds, intersections, sidewalks, parking areas, and stores with a view of the apartment building. Quiet deals with retailers and offices in the neighborhood allowed the Casa staff to keep an eye on the area, sharing information with retailers anxious to keep the area safe. If Amit and his team saw something odd in the streets, they alerted the retailers. If something seemed fishy that might involve Casa de Palmas, the building staff got the call.

"Amit, come here, please," said Avner, a young agent just assigned to the building. Lanky, with close-cropped hair, he still looked very military. Avner monitored the banks in the office.

"What's up?" asked Amit, leaving the front desk with a single agent.

"There, that man in the window of the coffee shop." Avner zoomed a telephoto lens in tight. Through the front glass Amit saw a solidly built man in a business suit, dark hair carefully combed. He was reading a technology magazine.

"He looks prosperous enough. But that's just appearance. What is concerning you, Avner?"

"He's been there for two hours. Before, he sat in the park for three hours. He talks on the cell phone every half hour, very regular about that, has the magazine but mostly sits."

"Sits and . . .?"

"Watches us. I think he's casing the building. He always has a clear view of the entrance. Nothing distracts him, nobody sits with him, he doesn't read. For an hour I would not have minded, but this is very strange behavior."

"Recognize him?" Amit said.

"No. I checked the photo log of barred visitors, but nobody resembles him."

Amit frowned. A troublemaker could come in any guise. The man looked more like the victim of a crime than a perpetrator. He appeared ready for a serious meeting, with a business associate, a lover; he was a respectable man.

A respectable man. A man who demanded respect. Something nagged at Amit. That word, respect, teased his mind. He zoomed the camera in as close as possible. The man appeared to read, but in fact his eyes scanned Casa de Palmas. As a resident left and walked through the gardens or to a car in the building's sweeping driveway, Amit could see the man's eyes follow, especially women residents. That arrogant demeanor, the watchfulness, the hard set of his mouth, all the details troubled Amit. He could not place the man.

Amit picked up the phone. 

"Armando, it's Amit. I have a little problem. Perhaps you can help me," he said without introduction.

"Yes, tell me. It's too quiet here today. I am tired of studying," said the man, Armando, from a table at a bookstore, where he really was studying for an exam at the university.

"Do you have your scanner?"

"I don't leave home without it," said Armando.

"Good. Go to the coffee shop and discreetly observe the businessman sitting at the front table. He is watching us, and talking on his cell phone every 30 minutes. Scan the call, see what's he's saying. You have your BlackBerry, you can send us messages?"

"Of course. I'll put the coffee on my expense report."

"Good man." -----

"Well, it's out of my hands now. I've done my part," thought Dan as he watched the team disappear behind the closing doors of an elevator on the 34th floor of the firm's offices on Paseo de la Reforma. "They've got to get the ball into the end zone." He smiled. Half the people on the team probably had no notion of that football cliché's meaning. He wouldn't understand soccer clichés, either, he thought. 

Hector's pretty assistant, Esmeralda with the blazing blonde hair and, raccoonish eye make-up, and tight, stylish dress, saw his sense of tired relief. "You have worked very hard, Daniel. I know Hector, he is deeply pleased with your efforts. You are still staying the weekend at the hotel?" she asked.

"Yes, a friend from here is visiting me. Everything is set up for the driver, David?"

"Yes. He will pick you up at 5 this afternoon. He is our best driver and knows the city very well. Very reliable and discreet." Esmeralda suppressed a smile. She had heard Dan's visitor was a special lady who taught at the exclusive school in the hills. David's discretion, she knew, could be worn down with a few bats of her long eyelashes, if he hinted that anything spicy happened.




Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 03



"Good. I can still handle my expenses through the corporate card?"

"Yes. You will get the corporate rate for the hotel and meals, and David's time."

"Then I'm set. I have my laptop and materials. Esmeralda," he said, looking at the face that could easily belong in a Mexican soap opera, the big-boobed blonde temptress, "You've been a great support the past couple of days. Everything worked and we could focus on getting this job. If we win, this office is going to become the firm's most important between Houston and Bogota. As Hector's assistant, you'll be in the catbird seat."

Esmeralda smiled, then looked quizzical. These gringos with their North American expressions. "In the what?" she said.

"Ahh, sorry. You will be an important person. Hector will run the office and . . ." he looked around conspiratorially, "As his assistant, you'll run Hector. You could get your own assistant."

"That would be very nice. I am happy to work for Hector."

Dan hoisted his Dell laptop bag over his shoulder. With the laptop, spare batteries, printouts of PDFs and PowerPoint documents, research materials on the bank, and copies of the proposal itself, the weight made his shoulder ache. Just one more walk to the hotel and then I can pack the paperwork and be done with it, he thought.

"And Esmeralda, I sent Hector a note telling him how crucial you were to the effort. It will go in your annual review folder. Maybe I can get you a few more pesos."

Esmeralda's face, with the gorgeous, sparkly eye shadow, broke into a delighted grin. "Oh, gracias, gracias. That is very kind of you. Very few people do that."

"I do. Perhaps I'll be back down here on other projects. I want to stay on your good side!" he joked. "You're the power behind the partner's throne."

"Have a wonderful weekend," she said.

The short walk to the hotel made Dan nervous. For the first time since he arrived in Mexico City, he felt like a tourist, not a representative of a U.S. company with guards and drivers. The computer bag practically screamed, "Rob me!" Even in the noon-time sunshine, with well-dressed crowds of businesspeople and tourists on the avenue, he moved quickly to the hotel, serious, focused, knowing where he was going. After three minutes he saw the welcoming guards of the Hotel Maria Cristina – how effective they would be in an emergency, he did not know, but they recognized him and he relaxed with every step toward the driveway.

In the room he tore off the suit jacket and tie, required for formal meetings in the Mexico City office. He had wanted to set the right tone of professionalism before the team headed to the client site. The air conditioning hummed in the room, already tidied by the maids. Everything was in order, bed made, sinks swabbed, towels clean and straight, doors closed on the cabinet holding the color TV. 

He sat on the bed. The sheets felt smooth and fresh under his rump. The sheets tucked tightly under the four pillows had a seductive curve, over and under the pillow. Dan patted the sheets. He was really done with the proposal. The team was at the client at that very moment, loose, confident, arguments buttoned up, Hector calmly pumped and ready to make the case that would fill the office with work and fees. His hand ran over the bed. Dafna would arrive in just hours, no longer the weeks and days that yawned before him earlier. His mind moved over the sheets, pulling them back to make room for two lovers' bodies. It seemed unreal. Would it happen? Could they walk the walk as well as they had talked the talk? Would the sheer excitement short-circuit his arousal – that had happened before, he recalled with a grimace. The spirit was oh so willing, but the flesh tanked on him. 

He thought about the pictures he'd exchanged with Dafna, in her Gottex swimsuit, in a halter top, even pictures of her 20 and 30 years earlier. He liked those, to imagine Dafna in her 20s and even as a teen. She had been just as delighted to see Dan's pictures from high school, laughing at the puka-shell necklace, purple print shirt, long sideburns and tinted glasses. "That 70s look!" she laughed.

He stretched on the bed. The post-proposal sleepies crept over him. He'd had no all-night work sessions, but the altitude and pressure weighed down on him. Maybe in a few hours he'd stretch there with tawny Dafna beside him, warm and open, beckoning and stroking him, even as he touched her. Warm, loving, ready Dafna . . .

With a jerk Dan opened his eyes. He had been out cold. Something in the room requested, no, demanded his attention. The phone was ringing, more like a soothing doorbell than a harsh ring. He picked up the receiver and straightened his glasses.

"Dan?"

"Speaking."

"It's Hector. We just left the client site and we're heading to the Zona Rosa for a late lunch. The audit committee spent twice as much time as we expected asking questions."

"Good sign?"

"Terrific sign! They are very dissatisfied with the incumbent and are seriously interested in our team and approach. They had read the proposal very thoroughly and responded very well to some of the main messages."

"That's great, Hector. Everybody was OK with their parts, who talked when?"

"Yes. You know, I had my doubts about all the drilling, but it worked. We moved from slide to slide and everybody knew what to say. No screw-downs."

"You mean, no screw-ups."

"Yes, that's what I said," said Hector.

"Did they say anything about fees?"

Hector cleared his throat. "A little, and that may be a problem. The incumbent is willing to adjust its fees to match ours. The client is unhappy, but some members of management still like the current team. Our fees are about equal now. The incumbent will throw in some free services and put other fees at risk."

"So, do you need to renegotiate?"

"I have to talk with the big boys in New York about fee revisions. I'm inclined to stay where we are. The audit committee wants us and is comfortable with the fees. Management is playing us off against the incumbent to get lower fees from us. I don't want to get into a pricing game."

"Sit tight."

"For now."

"Anything I can do?"

"Not at the moment. We wait until Monday to make follow-up calls and see if fees remain an issue. I'll give you a call if we need any additional writing. You're the man for that, Dan." 

"Why thanks, Hector. I was very pleased to work with your team. I like the office. Great city. I'm going to see some of it this weekend."

"Perhaps we can talk about that later. If we win this audit, the Mexico City office will be, what's the word, a beehive. We will need communications support."

"Congratulations again, Hector. Go have a lunch. I think I could use a good shower after all this excitement."

"OK, my friend. You gave a tremendous advantage with the communications. I thank you."

They hung up. Dan stretched on the bed, fully awake, sensing the room around him with the muted earth tones, the ruffling piano sounds floating from the hotel's central lobby, and he felt delighted. The proposal was, truly, ended, for now, anyway. He did his part, the team did its part, and other than the mop-up contacts nothing else happened until the audit committee decided. Residual tension drained from him, like dank water from a bathtub, the last sloshing bits of late-night grime and anxiety washed away once Hector called to release Dan from his proposal chores.

"Free at last, free at last," Dan said out loud. "Dafna, get your ass over here." Her panties lay on the bedside table, almost a living presence. The silky material slid over his fingers, whispering of mysteries once held within. He balled the panties in his fist, then slowly loosened his fingers so they covered his open palm. The garment fascinated him, that male feeling that begins with wearing Mommy's clothes as a kid and continues to furtively worshipping the clothes that conceal and reveal women. 

He sat cross-legged on the bed. The panties lay on his lap, smoothed out. They almost glowed in his intense scrutiny. Their simple lightness belied their power. His finger ran around the elastic waistband, then directly down the small triangular front panel. Dan imagined his finger running down the panel when Dafna wore them, the shudder, the slow trace of flesh from bellybutton to her pubic hair to her clit and then a press between her cunt lips. It could happen later that day.

In a few hours! Dafna and Dan had traveled so far as a couple and were finally to meet astounded him. Other relationships rose, flickered, and faded from the dating site. Passion flicked its tongue at times then retreated, promises of calls and visits were made and ignored, emails with curt dismissive messages hit like an emotional mortar barrage. One woman was friendly in a kittenish way, talking about meeting Dan at her condo in Florida, then she slipped away with a note that she was engaged to marry another man she met on line a few weeks earlier and, gosh, she sure would miss their chats. A woman in Colombia decided she needed a Latino, not a gringo like Dan. 

So, women slid down the memory hole. But Dafna never did that. They squabbled, they misunderstood each other due to the language differences, but the bedrock affection remained.

The restlessness returned. He didn't want to watch TV, read, or raid the in-room icebox. So Dan changed into his gym clothes and headed for the hotel's fitness room. He had all afternoon to kill. After stretching, he climbed on an eliptical walker (easy on his 45-year old knees) and felt his pulse rise, notch by notch, until he reached 150 beats per minute, enough to shake loose the sweat and get his body prepped for the evening. 

Watching CNN, Dan thought about preparation. Dafna would take the office car, driven by the reliable staff driver, David. He planned for them to dine in the hotel's restaurant. As luck would have it, one of Mexico City's most talented piano cabaret performers would be at the keyboard. That would be good for the mood. The room was, of course, freshened, and had stacks of plump pillows. David would be available if they wanted him any more that evening, and he'd be theirs all weekend, for just $75 per day plus gasoline and meals (a bargain at any price). 

He'd given Dafna the option of just dinner, with David returning her to Case de Palmas. Dan never assumed anybody, even Dafna, even now, would automatically sleep with him, much less spend the weekend. But she insisted on bringing a suitcase with clothes and all the obscurities with which women travel. He looked at his own travel kit. Basic male stuff, clothes, shaving kit, books, magazines scooped up at the airport, Spanish-English dictionary, suitcase space for a gift for his daughter Shayna, a baseball hat, his two gifts for Dafna, chosen after much mulling over of messages, costs, and suitability for a woman whom he had never met. 

Dafna planned to arrive at 6. At 5, headed for the shower to rinse off the sweat and get clean. -----

Outside the Casa de Palmas, in a coffee shop across the street, a man pretended to read the Latin American edition of an information technology magazine. He was in Mexico City on IT business, but that merely covered his real interest. Dafna continued to disrespect him when he called her. She had mentioned, in a lapse of judgment meant to hurt or discourage him, she was "seeing someone this weekend," this miserable someone was visiting her this weekend, and he should leave her alone once and for all. So there, pendejo, was the explicit message.

Rafael Bocanegra sighed and closed his magazine. Dafna, his beloved, his online Dulcelena, had scorned his affection over the insignificant matter of his marriage. Rafael knew he could bring Dafna to her senses. He was confident of that. He merely had to disabuse her of this silly, schoolgirlish crush on another man. He had observed Casa de Palmas from the coffee shop and other places for eight hours. Rafael doubted those un-Christian goons, the Israeli security guards, had noticed him; he knew he was on a watch list from the past unpleasantries at Casa de Palmas. He dared not let them see him. He knew, from the last time, those Jews would play very rough with him. They said so, and he believed them. At some point, he guessed, Dafna would leave to meet her idiot (she initially met Rafael away from her building, so he assumed she would follow the same pattern now). So, he would wait and watch. And then, when he saw her, he would begin to act. If need be, he could play rough, also. His cell phone sat before him, fully charged. He decided to check with the men in the car parked down the block, to ensure they were ready. 

Rafael did not notice the young man in a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt studying a biology textbook in a distant corner of the café. He was nondescript, just a scruffy student with what looked like an iPod plugged into his ears and a BlackBerry on the table and who knows what other technology toys. When Rafael began to speak, Armando began to listen. -----

Dafna adjusted the light over her bathroom mirror. For the past hour she had built her look, one cosmetic at a time. Hair done, brown-blonde tresses freshly cut and set in a casual elegant style. Eyebrows plucked, legs waxed, bikini line shaped, nails painted a pale pearl shade, dinner dress back from the drycleaner and chosen to show her figure in an alluring but modest way, rolling suitcase packed with changes of clothes, hairdryer, basic cosmetics, advanced cosmetics, address book, tourist guides, cell phone charger, new lingerie (just in case Dan wanted a show), and phone numbers for building security in case, God forbid, some Mexican City unpleasantness took place and she need Mossad-style reasonableness (and ruthlessness) to straighten things out. Her dear young friend from the building and the gym, Amit Shemtov, made her promise to always carry it. 

The full-length mirror gave the final check. She turned this way and that. Her heels gave her calves a nice shape, curving from her knee-length skirt. The months of pounding at the gym worked, she decided. Even at her age, late 40s, she had a firm bust (sigh, no children), a waist that was the envy of the gals in the shower at the gym, and hips that held up well in the eternal battle against her fleshy Eastern European Jewish roots. She adjusted her bra through her blouse, getting everything placed just right. There – she felt sexy and ready. A fresh bra and panties, matching cream-colored, made her feel extra-feminine and ready for – whatever happened. A tiny drop of perfume tingled on each nipple. 

The phone rang. "Senora Dafna, your car is here," said Amit, in Hebrew-accented Spanish. Drawing in her breath, she grabbed her suitcase and headed for the elevator of her building, Casa de Palmas, on a hill overlooking Mexico City. David waited for her in the Jeep Cherokee with heavily tinted and reinforced windows, the same one that brought Dan in from the airport. Not long now.

Rafael jumped when he saw the woman leave the Casa de Palmas and enter the SUV. Squinting, he could make out, even from 50 yards away, the swaying silhouette, the bouncing brown-blonde hair against her full face. The rolling suitcase confirmed his suspicion that she had a weekend tryst. He was a patient man; let her run to her unlucky lover. 

"She is leaving. Yes, with the suitcase. Follow the car and tell me where they go. If at all possible see the man she is meeting. Call me when something happens. I will stay here. I suspect she is going to a hotel, like the puta she is," Rafael said into his cell phone.

Armando typed rapidly into his BlackBerry. Amit read his report even as he watched the man in the café shuffle his papers and strain to view the Cherokee as it steered around the driveway and out of Casa de Palmas. In fact, he saw the man rise, stretch, and edge toward a window, to watch the Cherokee for as long as possible. Then the man ordered another drink and sat down, pulling papers from a briefcase. Now he could work. Rafael's unblinking surveillance had ended successfully. He would wait for the progress reports from the pursuit team.

The pursuit car, a battered VW bug with the fake markings of a Mexico City taxi, sputtered in traffic barely in sight of David's SUV. The Nokia cell phone rang. The passenger, a thin man as non-descript as the car, his black hair and mustache the same as millions of other male Chilangos, answered. "Yes, we're following the woman. We have her in sight. They are going toward the center of town," he said to Rafael Bocanegra. "We are keeping a distance." 

"You will report when you see anything, when she stops?" asked Rafael.

"That is what you hired us for. That is what we will do," he said.

"You think they are going to a hotel?" demanded Rafael.

"That is a possibility, but only that. I do not know where they are going or what she will do when she arrives. You must be patient," said Flaco. He punched the arm of the driver, another thin man known as Gordo, or Fatty, and made a circling motion with his finger by his head. The message: this man is loco.

"I'll be waiting. Remember, let me know when you see something."

"I will, senor, I will let you know immediately."

"Bueno. Until then." Rafael clicked the phone off. His legs were cramped from sitting in the coffee shop. He decided to return to his hotel room several blocks away, where he had prepared for Dafna's return to his passionate embraces. And as for the gringo, well . . .

The student in the corner kept typing. Amit watched Rafael pack and leave. Then he made the connection. The man was watching resident leave had been waiting for Dafna. The flurry of phone calls began then. That face, Amit thought, now I think I know. He turned to his watch-list book and turned to the page with a picture taken the night he threw Rafael off the premises. Different hair, different coloring, but the same man, he was certain. Rafael Bocanegra, Dafna's lover and tormentor, had returned. 

"Armando, follow man to destination. Be discreet. Tell me his destination. Maintain watch once he arrived."

Rafael smiled grimly as he packed his attaché and left for his small hotel in the area, heading west through the chic shops of the neighborhood. The sun shone, Dafna would soon see the error of her ways, he was a man most happy. Exactly 30 seconds after he left the student in the Dallas Cowboys t-shirt yawned, stretched, stuffed his electronics into a backpack, and strolled out, ambling westward behind the relaxed looking businessman. -----

The clicker cycled through the stations on a dreary loop: CNN to MTV to Fox to MSNBC to local Mexican stations to CBS to NBC to ESPN to a scene of grasshoppers mating on a nature show. Now that's worth a look, thought Dan. He shifted on the couch and checked his watch. Almost time, although the notorious Mexico City traffic could slow Dafna's journey downtown from Casa de Palmas. Even the reliable David could not fly over the gridlock of Blvd. Avila Camacho through the upscale Polanco neighborhood to approach the downtown district. He pulled the sleeves of his fresh shirt, aiming for the wrinkleless look that seemed so effortless in GQ, so hard in real life. Shoes looked good, shined. Nose and ear fuzz trimmed, glasses washed with liquid soap to remove the grime of the frames and lenses. Dan flossed and brushed before he dressed in his new dark blue Dockers and new Lands' End shirt with the pale pattern. He skipped the tie but had his sharpest blue blazer to wear. He emptied the change from his pocket to avoid the hand-in-pocket jingle-jangle that betrayed his nervousness. 

Holy cow, he thought. On the nature show, the female grasshopper was chomping the male's head; tough way to get laid. He wondered if the male grasshopper knew the outcome of his sexual urges . . .




Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 03



The ringing phone interrupted his reverie. Dan picked up the receiver. Please, God, not Hector, no more work," he said out loud.

"Hi honey! I'm down in the lobby," Dafna chirped. Her voice combined elements of decorum and barely contained excitement.

"That's what I've been waiting for! I'm on my way down. It won't take long," he said. Dan threw on his jacket, tucked his shirt-tail in for a smooth silhouette, and headed for the elevator.

He walked into the lobby, where a Japanese tour group crowded around the check-in counter. They clogged the space so Dan could not see anybody waiting for him – until he glimpsed a hand waving from the side of the lobby with low leather couches. Through a break in the crowd he glimpsed a slim woman with shoulder-length hair in a chic blouse and skirt, and matching high heels.

"Dan? Is it you? I'm here, Dafna, hola!" Dan recognized her from pictures, but she looked so much more alluring in the flesh, moving, a great smile breaking across her face. With quick dancing steps she moved toward Dan. Shouldering his way through jet-lagged yawning tourists, Dan approached her. In seconds they were face to face, for the first time.

Dan took her hands. He couldn't believe that, after months, Dafna of his dreams and nights stood before him. Dafna leaned forward to kiss on her glowing lips. "So, look at you!" he exclaimed. "It's really you, all grown up!"

"Hola, Dan, you look so handsome, in your business clothes," said Dafna, her eyes shining. She was close to tears from the joy and strangeness of the moment. Dan of a thousand messages was there, not blips on a screen, there in Mexico City. He was holding her hands and smiling at her. 

"Not really my business clothes. These are what we call business casual. I was wearing the Brooks Brother suit at the office. I dress more formally here than I do in New York," said Dan. Do I sound like a babbling moron at the moment, he thought. They should be hugging and kissing, not discussing office fashion trends.

"This is a little dressy. You like?" she said, twirling around in a slow pirouette. Dafna felt like a girl in a beauty pageant, posing for the only judge that mattered. 

Dan drank in the swirl of skirt and high heels, Dafna's curves under the short jacket and silky blouse. A modest gold necklace circled her neck. White earrings danced from her ears. As she turned, her hair ruffled. When she completed the circle, facing him, her eyes were sparkling. The simple physical move added a flush of happiness to her. Dafna was simply adorable.

"Very pretty, like you're ready to start a weekend," Dan said. His heart clutched in his chest. After all the months, here they were. Now what? The conversation that seemed so easy online sputtered with the woman finally in front of him. The clatter and push of Japanese tourists detracted from the romantic moment, also. Then he realized she had the large rolling suitcase. Its bulk had an imposing permanence; love me, love my stuff.

"It's crazy for us to stand here. Do you want to drop your suitcase in my room for now and then we can come down to get a drink, think about dinner?" said Dan, as casually as possible.

Dan took the handle of the hefty suitcase. Its wheels thumped over the stone floors as they approached the elevator. Dafna walked beside him. Above the clatter of the swarming tour group he heard her heels clicking on the hard floor. "I've liked the hotel, more than the corporate places I could stay at. Great piano players here," Dan said. He felt completely tongue-tied in Dafna's gorgeous presence, hurled back to nightmarish junior-high dances where he gaped at the taller, blooming girls and wondered how he could ever casually arrange a slow, close dance to a song like "Color My World." This is silly, he thought as they pushed into an elevator. I'm 45! I've been married!

In the elevator they stood very close in the crowd. Dafna felt woozy. Behold the man, she thought, so self-confident and warm toward her. They'd only been together a few minutes, but his physical presence, so near, calmed and aroused her. At last, she thought. Without thought she put her hand on his arm. He jumped as the manicured fingers rested on sleeve, then he turned to her, with a quick, sheepish smile. They exchanged no words, but the touch on his arm – warm, shy, urgent, lingering – said everything they both longed to hear.

Dan shouldered open a path out of the elevator on the fourth floor. "There, now we can breathe, no cramped quarters. That was nothing compared to the elevators in Hong Kong," he said.

"Two's company, three's a crowd, so what's 50?" Dafna said.

"An orgy of epic proportions," Dan joked. "But two is plenty for me." He slipped the electronic key into the lock. "Well, here we are. Welcome to the honeymoon suite," he said, cringing as soon as the words left his mouth. He felt he was tripping over himself everything he said anything. 

But her hand touched his shoulder again. "Oh, Dan, it's beautiful," said Dafna, stepping through the narrow entry way into the suite. Dan had straightened his luggage and papers so the place retained much of the freshly made look. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the shades on the exterior side of the suite, while other curtains covered a view of the Maria Cristina's elegant soaring atrium and the greenery below. Gentle runs of jazz piano drifted up to their room. "Give me the grand tour. This is almost bigger than my apartment!" she said.

"Here, my dear, you see the hallway," said Dan in a tour-guide voice, "where I have my suits hanging, very important for all these meetings with partners. And to your right is the bathroom where I keep myself clean and fresh for you. Plenty of fresh, fluffy towels and bottles of water so I can brush my teeth. I don't trust the tap water."

"You read the tour books well," she said, peering in. She mentally noted that the walk-in shower looked large enough for two people. Maybe they could . . . 

"And here is the living room/office, very comfortable couch. I plop down on it when I get back from the fancy dinners they insist on dragging me to."

"Tezka, that's where you went?"

"Yes, that was mucho dinero. The team will go back there, Hector says, if we win, and then there will be mucho tequila. Not that I would be part of it."

"They would not bring you back if you won?" Dafna sensed his sense of exclusion. "For the fiesta?"

"No, I'm not one of them, not really. I do the writing and communications strategy here, but they get the work. They do the work. You know, I'm the peon in the fields." A darkness passed over his face. 

"Pobrecito mio, my poor one, do not be sad," she said, standing so close that she almost felt electrical sparks leap between their bodies. "This is a very happy day, for your firm and . . . for us."

He brightened. "Yeah, you're right, thanks for the reality check." Dan looked at Dafna, who stood an inch shorter than him. In her heels their eyes were exactly level, his hazel eyes and her grey eyes aligning like planets in orbit. Dafna put her hand on his arm, again. Dan's chest tightened at the light, unbearable touch of her grey-tipped fingers on his shirt.

"There is one more room to look at, yes?" she said. "Unless you are sleeping on a fold-out couch here in the living room."

"That's right, one more room. Come," he said, taking her hand for the first time. Dafna's hand was delicate in his hand, warm, willing, the fingers wrapping around his like silk ribbons around a present. "The bedroom is comfortable, although . . . " he squeezed her fingers without looking at her, "The bed seemed awfully big for just one person."

The door led to the bedroom, dominated by a king-sized bed with a dark wooden headboard, carved Aztec patterns. The sheets were pulled tight over the mattress. An armoire, the doors closed to hide the TV, stood in front of the bed. To each side was a small table with a lamp. A paperback mystery novel lay on the left side, by a notepad covered with scribbles. A suitcase with the lid closed rested on a folding stand against the wall. Dan couldn't wait to open the lid and reveal the first of his gifts for Dafna. The thought of them there, unknown to her, made him feel so adult, a man with a treat for his soon to be lover. 

"Nice, it looks comfortable, and it smells so clean."

"I'll leave a good tip for the maids. They keep the place spotless."

"I should hire one for my apartment," said Dafna. She sat on the white bed cover. She was so poised and light, and sat so gently, that the mattress hardly moved. Dan stood in front of her, holding her hands, his eyes resting on her eyes so long she finally cast them down, demurely.

"Dafna, mi amor, here we are. Together. I can't believe it."

"Mi amigo querido bueno, my very beloved friend, we are here. It is a strange feeling, no, to finally meet?"

Dan cupped her face in his hands. "Yes, such a strange feeling. I just don't know what to say to you, other than I love you and think you're best. There, I said it."

Her eyes teared up. Dafna threw her arms around Dan's waist and cried. "Dan, Dan, I have waited so long for this. I love you and don't care if you don't say nothing."

He looked up, dizzy from the rush of sudden emotion. A white ceiling fan traced slow arcs in the air directly above them. He had not noticed it was turning. The slight breeze ruffled Dafna's hair, the wavy hair he now held between his fingers. Dan's eyes welled up, too. He was tired and delighted and blank before the force of their feelings. 

"Come, mi amor," he said, gently pulling Dafna to her feet. "Let's go to the living room and look at each other. We have so much catching up to do. We know each other, but now we can really know each other. That's exciting." 

Dafna stood and possessively wrapped an arm around his waist. She could not bear to lack contact with him now, now that he stood in the flesh next to her, no longer distant, but there. She yearned to have him in her. It took all her control to keep from ripping his clothes off to slide that delicious, dreamed-about, hardening, demanding cock as deeply into her flesh as it would go. 

They walked into the living room. Dan led her to the couch. "Let's get that jacket off, get comfortable, si?" he said. Dream-like, she let him remove the jacket. Dan carefully hung it in a closet. She noticed him stroke the blouse with the back of his hand, as if petting it. They sat on the deep, comfortable cushions of the rust-colored couch, side by side, almost prim in their straight posture. 

"So," said Dan. His ears burned and roared with the blood pounding through his head, fogging his vision with a red sheen over the cool earth colors of the room. "What shall we talk about?"

Dafna gave him a confused look. What, he wanted to talk? They were alone, together, in his hotel room, and he wanted to chit-chat? 

"Yo quiero besos y abrazos, I want kisses and hugs," murmured Dafna, leaning against him. "Imediamente. Right now."

"Si, mi dulcelena, yo quiero mucho tambien," said Dan. His arm around her shoulders drew her toward him. She slid toward him, as he leaned against the couch's arm. Side by side, their bodies pressed together, a slow slide toward a total embrace. Dafna's face, with the high cheekbones, prominent nose, and full lips, floated toward Dan. Close, closer, like two parts of a whole coming together in a perfect fit. 

"Media naranja mia," whispered Dan. "My other half."

"Si, tu eres mi media naranja, mi corazon," said Dafna, closing her eyes. "Yes, you are my other half, my heart."

And their lips touched. For months, Dafna had wondered about this moment, that contact. Would they mash their faces together, shred their clothes and collapse in a flailing, sweating heap? Or would their online romance sink under the weight of too much hope, fantasies of perfection loaded onto an imperfect man and woman? 

Her eyes closed, Dafna felt only a slow, spreading, luxurious warmth, a touch of lips to lips in a clean, quiet and very private place. Dan's arm encircled her, pulled her close, but she felt a welcoming embrace rather than a furious frantic grope. She put her hand to his face, his cheek, wanting to welcome this man, still in so many ways a stranger, into her life. The world collapsed into their lingering kiss.

They pulled apart, then kissed again. This time, Dafna threw her arms around his neck and leaned. Dan felt her full body falling against him. Under his hands he felt her bra strap through the thin blouse, and on his chest he felt her breasts, warm and full and spreading on him. Dafna molded herself to him, lips to lips, chest to chest. She could feel his abdomen moving in and out as he breathed. It pressed in to her, his flesh on her flesh, then eased away, then returned. 

She closed her grey eyes and the room became dark. In the gloaming of a Mexico City dusk Dan's fingers traced from the base of her throat downward. His palm pressed against her throat, her sternum, and then his fingers played with the first button on her blouse. Dafna jumped at the touch, so long desired. They kissed urgently. Dan tasted her lipstick, a light frosty coating, on his mouth. Her tongue pulsed in his mouth and she made low, primal noises, a woman in the thrall of passion. He could tell how much she wanted him, from the tension in her body to her hands cupping his face. Dan was torn between taking their time, building an unbearable desire, or simply throwing away all shreds of self-control to let her swallow him full force.

"Dafna, I . . . " he gasped as he undid the last button of her blouse. His hand went to a breast, full in the wispy bra. Her nipple stood out hard and bumpy from the silk.

"I want you so much, mi amor. Please, do not make me wait any more. No more tears, no more waiting for happiness," pleaded Dafna, her hands scrambling at the zipper on his khaki pants. "I need you to fuck me, like we fuck on the phone. No more delay, por favor."

Dan leaned back, panting. Her blouse was undone, his pants were unzipped and she was tugging them down, with breaks for her hand to grapple with his hard cock inside his underwear. 

"We've got a good start," he said. "You don't want to wait? A little more foreplay to get you excited?" He deftly unsnapped the front clasp of her bra and took a breast in his hand. Her brown nipple was turgid. He could feel the blood throbbing beneath her skin. "I can't tell if you're turned on or not."

"No, Dan, no! Don't play with me," she cried. To his surprise tears began to roll down her cheeks. Her hand slapped the bed. "I have waited too long for you, to be with you. No games, no jokes. We laugh, yes, but I want you too much. No more waiting, Please, Dan, I need you so much right now." She sat there, head bowed, sniffling like a schoolgirl in crisis. 

Dan was aghast. Oh my God, he thought, what have I done here? At this moment of great happiness she was crying. "Oh Dafna, my love, I am so sorry. I am not teasing you. Here," he pulled up the tail of his shirt and wiped her nose. She looked up at him, eyes shining, and he saw her smile, shyly at first, then with more radiance as his concern warmed her. He stood up. His pants dropped to the floor. He stepped out of them, standing before her with his cock straining straight out toward her through his underwear.

Dan took her hands. A primal, protective, sheltering instinct suffused him. He wanted to guide this fragile, teary woman to the safety of a dark and cloistered cave, away from whatever beasts hovered around them. "Come," he said, pulling her to her feet. "I know where we can go. No more waiting."

She hugged him. "I like that, yes," she said. 

His arm around her shoulders, Dan guided Dafna to the bedroom. "Just get undressed and I'll get the bed ready, OK?" he said.

"You do that. Let me pish," she said. Dafna dug into her suitcase for a cosmetics bag, grabbed a Victoria's Secret shopping bag with, then skipped into the bathroom, fumbling with her skirt as she went. Dan stripped off his shirt and socks, then pulled the cool, clean cover back on the bed. The sheets looked fresh and rose-colored, the pillows plump and fluffy stacked against the ornate headboard.

The toilet flushed with a low swirling. Well, he thought. In the minutes Dafna had been away he calmed down. The raging hard-on, just one stroke away from a blast all over Dafna's nice suit, cooled enough to give him a perspective. His heart thumped, but he wasn't going to flop about like a fish, or a virginal teenager. OK, he told himself, it's the first time. Ver vays? He thought in Yiddish. Who knows?

He hesitated to climb into bed. That first exploration of a new bed – a new continent -- he wanted them to share it. He turned to see Dafna emerge from the bathroom. He gasped. She had changed into a rose-colored lingerie, a lacy teddy top and a wisp of panties, barely held together by thin strings on the sides. Her nipples pressed through the sheer material. The tops of her breasts rose and fell over the lace edging as she breathed The tears were gone, the makeup around her lips and eyes lightly touched up. Dan's hard-on shifted in his underwear. That sense of self-control slipped, like a screen around a fireplace. The sparks were falling around them, hot and surging.

"Oh my God, you look beautiful, mi amor, like an angel," he said, stunned.

"An angel with dirty thoughts of you," she said. She walked to his side of the bed and hugged him. Dafna felt a wave rolling over her, tumbling her over and toward this man, like a goddess seeking her mate. In the Victoria's Secret lingerie, she felt more than naked. Dafna held Dan close, licking his face lightly. She ground her hips into his hard-on, so the head of his cock rubbed against her clit through the rich fabric.

"Here, amor, come and let's get to know each other," he said, holding his hand out. 

She took it and squeezed. With a hop she jumped onto the bed and pulled Dan along. With a single kick Dafna pushed the sheets back to the foot of the bed, so they lay on top, heads on the thick pillows, side by side.

"Besos, besos, besos," she said, grabbing Dan's head. Her tongue flicked, almost snake-like, over his face, his eyes, his cheeks, his earlobe in her mouth, her kiss of life descending to his face. Dan's hand moved to her breast through the teddy. His fingers closed over it, the palm hard against the nipple. "Ohhhh, fuck my chocho with your finger, like that," Dafna moaned. At the same time, Dafna's hand reached to his underwear and yanking them down. In a second they were off, flying through the air toward the armoire. Her fingers closed around his cock. Now Dan jumped.

"Just what I dreamed about for so long," he breathed in her ear. His hand brushed aside the teddy so his lips could sink to her nipple.

"Suenos, nuestros suenos we are making real now. Suck my tetas hard, vaquero," she said, flat against the bed. He was beside her, leaning over, delirious at the ripe solid body beside him, maddened by the closeness under the rose lingerie. He took a nipple into his mouth and kissed it, hard, no teasing, his tongue flicking around the edges, letting her get used to the feel.

"Ah, yes, like that, you make me so hard there. Pinch my other teta, like that," she said. Dafna's hand closed on top of his on top of her other breast. She pushed his hand down on the fabric, then put his fingers like pincers on the sensitive nipple. He kept sucking. 

"Your nipple just drives me loco, Dafna. It tastes great, it smells great. I can't stand it," he said. "You know how many times I wanted to do this, all of this?"

"About half the number of times I did. I play with myself and think about fucking you. Oh, no playing now," she said. She smiled; he liked the drops of perfume she put in the cups of her bra.




Coyoacan Mi Amor Ch. 03



Dan's kisses moved from side to side. He pushed the straps off her shoulders so the teddy floated around her waist, her breasts free and pointing to the slow revolving ceiling fan. Dios mio, she thought, how many tongues does he have? His fingers and tongue blurred on her breasts and nipples and the smooth skin over her ribcage, licking, touching, pulling, teeth exquisitely clasping her nipples. From somewhere unseen his hand rotated on her stomach, around her belly button, sliding slow and low toward the wispy panties. 

She opened her eyes. The fan rotated above them, like Dan's tongue, steady unrelenting circles. Every turn of the fan brought a jolt to Dafna; a lick on her nipple, his hand covering the front of her panties, a finger pressing, teasing, between her pussy lips, another finger tracing the ripe mound peeking outside the panties. Another turn, another moan.

"Dan, Dan, don't stop," she moaned. "My tetas are on fire, your fingers on my chocho are the best, just the best."

"I'm just getting started, my love," said Dan. He moved over and kissed her lips. His weight fell on her. Through her haze Dafna felt his body like his kisses: a steady, filling male force that opened her arms her legs her cunt her heart wide so she could welcome him into her. 

"You are so hairy, mi amor, even your back, it is a turn-on. I feel like a cavewoman pleasuring her caveman," she said. "Oooh, put your caveman fingers in my pussy." 

"And you are so smooth, Dafna," he said, untying a side of the rose panties. "Mmmm, I like what I'm feeling. The waxer did a very nice job." His fingers grazed the hairless space where her cunt met her thigh. His index finger ran over the top of her cunt. 

"I know what mi hombre likes. I left a little there. Maybe you can do something about that," she said. 

"Wicked girl, I have to look," said Dan. He eased down her body, between her spreading legs, the untied panties barely covering her. His pounding heart thudded against the sheets. Dan untied the other side of the panties and lowered the front, like the last layer of wrapping on an exquisite, long-sought gift.

Dafna expected a tongue or finger to brush against her. But nothing happened. A metronome of worry ticked in her head with each empty second. Instead, Dan waited between her legs, balanced between a past and a future. That contact was a portal as much as a chocho. Something vital but scary lay on the other side.

"Mi amor, is something wrong? Do I not please you?" she asked, stifling a rising sense of concern. 

He looked up so their eyes met. "No, no, everything is fine. I just feel, what? Humble? Excited? This is a very big deal! I can't find the right word."

"Let your tongue talk, mi amor. Let it say what your heart feels." She leaned back. The metronome ticked once, twice . . . 

"Bueno." Dan ran a finger from her clit to between her cunt lips to her perineum and back. Dafna shivered from the touch, and again when the finger rose up and nestled between her lips. She felt a gentle push, pushing in her. The metronome stopped ticking. A new sensation, the first oneness with a new lover, flooded her. She pushed her head against the pillow and sighed. Looking up, she saw the fan rotate slowly. 

Again, she thought. A man, again. Again and again, Dan, por favor. She put her hand on his neck, drawing his face closer to her.

"I like that. You are in me at last," she sighed.

The finger sank into her, a bit at a time, but with no hesitation. With every inch she felt more a fullness, and tingles as the fingertip pressed up and down, touching for the sensitive nerves. Eyes closed, Dafna sense the finger curving up and pressing the top and . . . . "Oooh, is that my G spot? I think you found it mi amor!" she said. "That feels soooo good. Gracias, gracias."

"De nada," said Dan, that wicked casualness back in his voice. "Easy to find. You are sending me homing signals. My fingers are just going home."

Dan sensed he had found a very good place. Well, accentuate the positive, he thought, so he lazily stroked up with his finger and then kissed around the outside of her cunt. Lips, clit, the smooth sides. He felt delirious. Here, Mexico City, Dafna, a real live woman at last – he feared he would just come on the bed before he had a chance to do anything with his primed hard-on.

He moved her hand from his neck to her cunt. Dan spread her fingers so they made a "V" around her lips, then he put his hand on top and pressed. In between his finger in her and their hands outside, they had her covered. She licked her other hand and then squeezed a nipple.

"Dan, you have me covered so well. I am yours, you know. What you are doing to me."

"No rush, no fuss. I love having my finger in you. And to see your hand down here, my hand on yours, it is so sexy. It feels good for you."

"You don't know how good."

"Let's find out." With his finger still rotating up and down this way and that, Dan kissed her clit. His lips sealed around it, not licking too hard, just covering it, savoring the delight of an aroused woman in his mouth, on his fingers. He licked around and in circles, slowly, avoid any touch that would be too intense for Dafna.

Dafna felt herself tensing. Her body was moving fast, maybe faster than she expected, but she was thrilled at the ride. A wave was building in her. Dan, a new but wise lover, had found literally put his finger on the secret spot that other men always missed. What a talent! He's a keeper she thought, but she didn't want to say that, not yet, anyway. At least, not to Dan. 

Wow, Dafna is really enjoying this, thought Dan. He sat up between her legs so he could watch her squirm and smile and pant. Two fingers from one hand were inside her, thrumming the G-spot, and the other hand roamed, tantalizing her clit, then her lips, then that agonizing strip of territory between her cunt and anus, up to her breasts, into his mouth for wetness, then a touch around her ear, then a lazy stroke along the insides of her thighs. She is so hot. This is great. How long has it been since I really fucked a woman who wasn't pissed off at me? Way too long. Look what I've been missing! Better late than never. I'm glad she's telling me what she likes. Christ I got tired of silent angry sex with Rebecca. Yeah, what a way to end the week, fuckin' great, in every sense of the word. I can't wait to be in her. I bet she comes really hard. I like that. It makes me feel like I accomplished something. But sex is bonding, not a competitive sport, I've got to remember that. She's so wet I may have to mop her up to get some friction down there. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Hmmm, she really jumped when I touched her that way. I'll have to make a note of that, things Dafna digs. I hope I can come twice. Women like that. I just hope I don't come too fast when I'm in her, or get a headache. Wouldn't that be an embarrassment? Rebecca hated that. With reason. But that was then, let's focus on the moment, OK, and keep the past locked up? The past is over, the future is finally here. Just enjoy the moment, Dan. I know Dafna is enjoying herself. I can feel her cunt muscles gripping my fingers. She's bearing down now. Wow she's strong. I think I'll just rest my hand on her thigh and let her feel my fingers inside her cunt. No distractions, that's right, "You like that, don't you, Dafna?" Well, I like doing it. And I like you most of all.

I want to wait, she thought. I want him in me, I want him to hold me and fill me so bad, really I have to have him in me that cock I've thought about dreamed about just touched Dios mio he knows how to finger-fuck me two fingers in my pussy where do I end and Dan begin why is my stomach lurching? Whose fingers are on my nipples is he kissing my clit or is my finger or his finger or is his cock on it I don't want to think nothing I just want Dan to keep moving his fingers on THAT spot "right there Dan, yes, just right, don't stop" never stop I want to cum and cum and I want you to say you love me again and you loved me before we even met Why didn't we meet 10 years ago 20 years ago when we could have loved each other forever and made babies and Shabbat meals instead of all your pain and my pain let's have no more pain before everything divorce abortions so many tears I'm so happy I want you to be happy what can I do to make you happy mi amor? Are you happy are you sad I can't tell I'm so turned on I can't see anything but your fingers in my chocho and your hand on my ass and a finger wet and slippery from my pussy circling around so that's what you want I see you are a wicked lover and I will be your tigressa your Lilith your dream your peace oh my God hold my clit hold my hand hold my heart mi corazon Yo quiero que tu estar mi amor sin fin ain sof forever and now

When Dafna came that first time, she thought she was either going to bounce to the ceiling or roll off the bed and plop on the floor. She yelled, she rolled, she felt Dan's fingers, just those two fingers, plugged into her nerves and muscles like a new power source. The way he stopped using his other hand and simply let her focus her attention on her cunt, she just went crazy. Sweat from her back and ass and legs left a damp outline of her body on the bed.

"A good way to start the weekend, isn't it?" said Dan. "I know what's next."

Dafna held her arms out. As he positioned himself between her legs, Dan gawked at the rosy flush on her face, spreading down her neck and sternum, her animal arousal going right into a reptilian center of his brain. He wanted her so much everything seemed to move fast and slow, hot and cold, a rush in slow motion. All his senses jumbled. "Be in me, mi amor, I want you to be in me. I have waited so long, so long," she whispered as he slipped in, slowly, and her warm arms circled his neck.

"Ahhh, we are together lovers for the first time. You like that, Dan? No more waiting to be lovers."

"Si, I like it a lot." Silence. "You are so warm and wet, I love the way you're pressing up against me all over. I can feel your breasts against me, and your stomach, and oh, what your pussy feels like. I just can't describe it."

"Don't describe it. Just fuck it, OK?"

"Deal. Mmmm, I'll fuck you and you tell me what it feels like, how's that? Our first time together, tell me what you're feeling."

"Mmm, I like that idea. I like to tell my lover what it feels like. Pues, when you had your fingers in me you drove me loco. You take your time, drive me crazy. I liiiiike a man who likes my body. You no act like a guy who just wants to fuck and leave."

"Hell, no. When you get hot, I get hot. It's got to be both of us. Just so you know." He thrust into her extra slow and deep, burying his cock while he held her shoulders and kissed her. Dafna felt totally taken, his cock and tongue pushing in from different places, those strong, safe hands cupping her shoulders.

"Aye, mi vaquero, what you do. The way you kissed my tetas, so good, so good. You give kisses to all the places I like. You really like my body? Is OK for you? Really?"

"Dafna, mi amor, I loved your body before I even touched it. I'm so turned on, we may just spend the weekend in bed."

"Gooood idea. Nice bed. We just get up so the maids change the sheets."

"I'll put you against the wall and fuck you from behind while they do it. That'll give them a thrill, won't it?"

"We save the thrills for us. Yes, I like you fucking me against a wall. And you have a big shower. We fuck in there, too."

"On the floor."

"You on top."

"69."

"I suck you off while you stand up, hands on the wall."

"I'll suck you off, too."

"We'll sit on the bed and finger each other."

"I wake you up in the middle of the night and suck you."

"I'll pour honey on you and lick you clean."

"Where will you pour it?"

"You tell me. Anywhere."

"Mmmm. I think of many places."

"We'll go out and I'll finger you in public in a quiet place. People will see us but we'll be the only ones that know."

"Sooo sexy. I like that. In public. Scary. I bite my lip to keep from yelling when I come."

"So yell in Hebrew. Who'll know?"

"You're funny."

"You're getting me very turned on."

"So tell me a public place where you want to make love. You're the Chilango from Mexico City. You know the sexy places."

"Maybe Coyoacan. Very nice area, good food, art."

"Sure, I know the place. Frida Kahlo Museum. Trotsky Museum. Beautiful place for lovers."

"My pussy is feeling very tight. This sexy talk driving me meshugah."

"In public, you'd really do that? Wow."

"I do anything for my lover."

"You know I would do the same for you. I totally trust you."

"I feel the same. You are my safety."

"You are my love."

"Mi amor!!"

The air rushed from Dan, the force of life pushing him down, all blood rushing to his hips, his body not his own. His mind stopped whirling, as if he were adrift in the eye of a hurricane, a slow space surrounded by crackling energy flowing through him and into Dafna. All his nerves and bones strained toward the sweet dark place where man and woman become one. 

"Oh my Dafna," he gasped, and his held her wet smeary face in his hands. Dafna's arms flew around his neck, loving and protecting her man. The hot, frustrated, hopeful surge burst through Dan with guttural intensity. He held Dafna so close and pushed so firmly she lost control, too, with a squeaking "oh oh oh" the sensation washed over her so she dug her fingernails into Dan's neck and back. Her hips bucked up so hard she lifted Dan upward, only to be pushed down with his thrust. Like a seesaw, the lovers rocked back and forth, swapping kisses and thrusts back and forth until, spent, they murmured and stopped. 

By the time they could breathe normally the room was dark. Mexico City was in night, Dan and Dafna in peace. She curled against him, encircled by his arms. Sensing her chill, Dan pulled the covers over them. They burrowed down into the mattress and the sheets. In the nest, they kissed and stroked. Dan touched her hair. Dafna hugged him closer, afraid to leave any gap between them. She reached down to cup his cock.

"Dormir," he said. "It's so happy and sleepy. For now."

"Until . . . "

"Until we have some dinner. Nice restaurant downstairs."

"But we have to get dressed."

"Room service?"

She looked and smiled. "Yes, I like that idea. I want to stay naked for my lover until . . . "

"Until?"

"Until we get dressed tomorrow and we go to Coyoacan."

"Let's order some food. I'm hungry."

"Kiss me, por favor. I need kisses more than food."

He kissed her slowly, sweetly, stroking her hair until she purred. He stood up to get the room-service menu. Dan walked back to the bed, then stopped and reached into his suitcase.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I have a little something for you."

"What?"

Dan gave her a small box, in a distinctive light blue with a white ribbon. Dafna took it. Her fingers shook as she untied the ribbon, to show the word "Tiffany" on the lid. 

"I am very surprised and touched, Dan. Let me see." Dafna gently removed the top, then moved away layers of rustling wrapping paper. 

"Oh, mi amor, how could you!" she cried. She peeked inside the package to see two lovely Art Deco silver earrings. Dan had sensed her taste for simple elegance. She held the earrings in her palm, trembling.

"Oh, my love, you are so sweet. I will always treasure these. For me!" She fought back tears at the sheer surprise.

"All for you, Dafna. I'm not going to hold anything back. You'd better get ready."

Dafna stood, shaky. "Let me put them on right now. They are so beautiful."

She stood before a bathroom mirror and slipped them on. Nude, vibrant, rosy, Dafna looked like a goddess with the earrings reflecting light.

She looked at Dan in the mirror, as he stood behind her. "Mi amor, I am ready."

 be continued.]