When one of them noticed us and beckoned, I knew that they’d insist that Jeanie and I likewise shed our tops to feel the breeze. They’d ask where we’d been. La Tortuga. What fun! Show us how you danced. Moon River’s so romantic, isn’t it?
They’d lay the three of us onto recliners, and I’d look up at the colored lights while Jeanie held my hand, the husbands enjoying the change. The wives would instruct Curtis, though I didn’t know which would do what.
It was well that I moved us onward.
Back in our condo, the three of us went onto the balcony to view the stars, larger in Cabo. Jeanie killed the light to better look and said we should take off our shirts to feel the breeze. As Curtis promised to stand behind us, I went along with it, as unlike my daughter, I at least had a bra.
When I spied a star that was moving, Curtis said it was a satellite, probably a spy one. When Jeanie said time to kiss him goodnight — “Just the back of her neck, Curtie, and no peeking.” — he pulled me back against him, him as hard as he’d been while dancing.
“Guess you have to turn around, though, Mom, to do it back,” Jeanie pointed out, as it wasn’t as if he’d never seen my bra, before.
Jeanie noted that the satellite’s not watching, hummed Moon River, and disappeared. “Enjoy those stars.”
That we did for a few more topics of astronomy, Curtis behind me to better point, but as that required just one hand, the other around me so I’d not fall over the railing.
And then came the Harmon/Jantzens on the lawn below. Spying us on high, they called out that the bar’s still open. “Two-for-one nightcaps. Come on.
“Another time,” I called back. “We’re stargazing,” hoping that Curtis’s hold looked like it was for safety.
“The Mayan constellations were all about… you know, different ways,” one of the wives informed us, apparently having read the same book. “Might be the night for a supernova,” apparently also up on newer astronomy.
So again just the two of us looking upward, Curtis again massaging.
Perhaps we could tip back the deck chairs, side by side, to watch one of those supernovas and I’d slide onto his to better see where he was pointing.
“Just to the left of where those three stars form a triangle,” maybe he’d say, as he steers me into my room and we sit on my bed to plan for tomorrow. I’d have not turned on the lights. Down here, pretending’s OK.
Or what if he was Poncho Villa? Maybe un bandito secreto en la noche (if my dictionary’s correct). Jeanie no va a saber. Your mind can wander so freely while on vacation.
But all that occurred was my skedaddling before any of it might come to be.
That night I masturbated pretending to be sunbathing, falling asleep, disrobed by unknown hands, made a slave, making love on a beach. Or maybe while dancing. Or maybe by a pool. Or maybe while gazing for a supernova.
I dreamed of shopping for one of those embroidered blouses, the assistant leading me behind the curtain to try it on, him taking off my bra. “Perfecto, señorita.” He’d want to get me pregnant so he could get a fatherhood visa to work in our minimum wage sector.
I dreamed of a lifeguard who’d give me artificial respiration. They probably have a special cabana with a mattress for such.
Sexual intercourse is “relacion sexual,” in Spanish. I looked it up, but just for my vocabulary list.
“Hey, Madre mia. Time to wake up.” Jeanie’s voice, I wasn’t sure from where. In the back of my mind hung wisps of a dream, but who was I kissing?
“Curtis already left for the motorcycle place.”
Oh yes. Jouncing yourself to pieces hardly sounded like fun, but that’s being maternal. I hoped they had his helmet size.
Jeanie fixed us a fruit plate and we sat on the balcony. “How about a boob tan where nobody can see us, Momita mia?”
As someone might come out on the adjacent balcony, I tried to stay low as she squirted Coppertone into her palm. “We heard you last night,” as she reached to do the part of me most needing protection.
“Oh,” not knowing what to say.
“Your Latin lover stood you up, the one with a rose in his teeth?” as she lotioned me. “Sometimes we have to take care of things ourselves.”
We both laughed. Lots of women do it, even married ones. Women’s magazines agree on it. But it’s not your daughter who should be reminding you.
“Curtis did it, same as you,” she added, “and you two doing it together made me do it, too.”
Whoa! I needed to set things straight. “We weren’t doing it together.”
“Different rooms,” she agreed.
Redressing, Jeanie stuffed my bra into her pocket. “How ’bout we go without?” but not as a question.
What could I say? Going without was easier for her than for me, to be sure, but a mom wants to be a good sport.
When Curtis returned, did I look different? Not because I was braless, I mean, which of course made me look different — he’d grinned when I showed nipple — but did he see me differently because he’d heard me masturbating? For sure I felt different.
“Guess who I met?” he announced.
“First things first,” his sister’s reply. “Mom’s good-morning kiss,”
After we did so — she’d said a good-morning one, but he must have thought we were still being silly — Jeanie offered a guess. “A lady in a red dress who offered you a discount?”
“Hardly! That lady from Mississippi. She promised to show me where they filmed a movie down here.”
I pictured the woman steering Curtis to a secluded beach. “Here’s how they’d do “From Here to Eternity” today. You be Burt and I’ll be Deborah. They had cellophane between them due to the screen actor rules, but we’re not in that union.”
I pictured myself as the cameraperson. “Start out there,” she’d say, indicating by the water. “Curtis, leave just enough space between us so when she moves in, she can capture it.”
“We didn’t come here for film school,” my daughter’s opinion interrupting my imagination.
I envisioned myself braless at the police station — that’s “Policia,” in Spanish — explaining to El Capitán that a blonde making a movie seduced my son.
“Three witnesses say the two were as rabbits,” the official would add, apparently already having the report, “But the crime is only if a beautiful woman completes without satisfaction,”
He’d crank up the mariachi radio and press my hand against his green trousers with black stripes. “¿Muy grande, no?” as he backs me onto the desktop.
“But what about that woman?”
“Is good for your son to take a most beautiful gringa,” flashing his gold-capped smile and informing me that he’d interrogated her on that same desk earlier that day and that I was more beautiful.
The woman’s a professor; that I knew. The twins would be off to college this fall, not in Mississippi, but professors are probably much the same anywhere.
Film 101. Office hours 10:00-12:00. Curtis’s professor has undone her button and latches the door. “Come over here, Curtis.” His first time, her millionth. A female professor seduces him here in Cabo or another one seduces him next fall on campus. What’s a mother to do?
Setting off, I took his arm like last evening, except now when he crossed my chest, I moved more freely. The kids and I bought hats from the lady who wove them. Jeanie and I got gardening ones. Curtis’s made him look like a tortilla commercial.
“You now may serenade us with La Cucaracha.” suggested his sister.
Snorkeling — at least I had my swimsuit to hold me in place — we saw a zillion fish. If you have a piece of bread, they’ll eat out of your hand. A girl on the beach sold us the bread slices. I like to support female entrepreneurship.
Jeanie pointed out that this was our last chance for sun and unhooked my strap. I flopped on my stomach before she got the shoulder straps down, but didn’t stay there for long, as she rolled me over, and from under the bill of my cap I could see the tops of areolae.
When Jeanie saw she’d missed a spot below my belly button, she pointed it out to Curtis, and like the other day when she’d rested my wrist on him, I could hardly object when she moved him back and forth along my hem.
Under the beach shower — a girl charged us a dollar and then skedaddled — the twins cracked open their suits to flush out the salt and I saw a bit of hair when Curtis rearranged himself, but not that much.
Passing the pool, we again came upon the Harmon/Jantzen four who offered us margaritas, but I hurried us on.
They were probably planning to lure us to one of their units to rape us, but they’d decide it more fun to make a virgin boy do it to his mother. Curtis would have no choice or one of the husbands would take over.
But back to the real world — the Cabo one, anyway.
Our gear unloaded, the kids and I watched a Discovery special about whales. They swim all the way here to breed. At SeaWorld, Nalani is the offspring of Katina and Katina’s son, Taku, making the Taku both father and half-brother to Nalani. Complicated.
For dinner I made a Spanish salad, my name for it, anyway. Rather tasty, if I do say so. Don’t scrimp on the avocado.
Returning to our sunset spot, Jeanie administered my backrub with enough oomph to rub my front against Curtis’s shoulder blades, and I did his stomach, I could feel him suck in. I couldn’t believe he’d let her reach around me to undo his buckle, snap and zipper.
I shouldn’t have let her push my hand down onto his undershorts, but “Backrub’s over,” then ruled my daughter, pulling me away.
I was in bed when Jeanie stuck in her head to ask about tomorrow’s groceries, leaving my door ajar when she left.
As I began to address myself, there began rustlings from the front room, louder and louder. If everybody’s doing the same thing, it’s hardly a secret? Not that I was curious, of course, but on my way to the bathroom, I peeked in and the two of them side by side under his sheet. Personally, I’d want more room.
Maybe I wasn’t enough in the darkness, though, as Jeanie turned my way and maybe even beckoned, but I wasn’t about to accept.
More toward morning, I was again awakened by more of a thumping noise, and on my way to the bathroom, again I paused to check. This time, though, Curtis was above, their sheet having slipped far enough down to show that his hands were under her shoulders and hers, around his back, their action below repeating over and over.
It wasn’t until I was back in my room did I hear them climax. But maybe I hadn’t seen it correctly, it being dark.
Come dawn, I wondered if I’d imagined things. Palm fronds can thump. Perhaps some sort of lizard makes that sort of sound. Whales mating?
When I emerged, the two were in the bathroom, the shower going, and when they came out, they were just in their underpants.
“Got shampooed,” explained Jeanie, as if that satisfied my curiosity.
“Who wants bacon?” as I thought it best not to ask.
“Mom’s good-morning kiss,” Jeanie reminded her brother.
The difference between being backed against a tree or a wall and being backed against a kitchen counter is that in the latter, you get bent further back, your legs more apart.
“Team USA,” Jeanie grabbed a Frisbee as we prepared to set off to the beach. “Curtis, red. Me white, Mom, blue,” choosing us t-shirts accordingly, mine being one that read, “Cabo Nights, Forbidden Delights,” with four footprints, the outer two pointing up and the middle two pointing down. She’d bought it for me, knowing I’m addicted to Turkish Delights.
Then back to our unit, where I passed the Harmon wife in the foyer and she said how about they take us dancing?
I could guess the rest. Me body-body on the dance floor with one of the husbands, Jeanie with the other, and the wives tag-teaming Curtis while the band plays Moon River. Because they’d slipped Spanish Fly into our drinks, Jeanie and I would soon be looking upward at tacky chandeliers. They’d have put Viagra in Curtis’s Coke. A boy his age probably wouldn’t need it, but it costs almost nothing down here.
I thanked her, but said we’re pretty busy doing family bonding, to which she said that it looked like my two had already bonded. This I was pleased to hear, as my two did seem to be getting along better than at home.
“You’d like how long our guys can keep you dancing,” she added.
Off we went to take advantage of return-customer discounts. Braless, you need to think about neckline and fabric, but Jeanie wasn’t thinking along those lines and chose me a silky blouse that calls for a pretty bra for those wearing one. While it’s nice to be noticed, it should be more circumspect, but then again, we weren’t going to be here for that much longer.
Waiting on a bench for Jeanie, Curtis and I found ourselves again at our kissing game. I scored a few, but he evened the score by pulling me behind a row of palms.
Our legs weren’t much different from how we’d danced, but with me braless and backed against the palm, he didn’t have to hold me in place. Maybe it was my pushing back to let him know that, dancing or not, we’re still on vacation that moved him more between my legs. So silly.
“Great how you two are loosening up,” Jeanie’s remark, waiting for us as we emerged.
Taxis are cheap, but buses are cheaper. To get back to our condo, we hopped on one with a bullfight painted on its side.
It should be against the law to sell more tickets than seats, but me perched on Curtis’s lap was better than him on mine. Boys get erections all the time, I again reminded myself, Curtis’s from imagining some girl. Not my fault, what I was sitting on, but if I happened to have something to do with it, it was nice for this old mom’s ego.
It’s good that the other riders couldn’t read my mind, but even if they could, they wouldn’t understand English.
Safety always an issue when overseas, I appreciated his hold around my middle, but it was good that my bag hid his wrap from the sight of others, his hand slipping upward, as our bus bounced along. It was when he closed around the evidence of my excitement that I began wondering, and more so when his other hand dropped to my lap, and then to my cuff from where it curled back under.
I should have called a halt to it when he reached the bottom of my panties, but I felt too much like butter and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t applied suntan lotion to that region before. As my panties weren’t as substantial as my swimsuit, though, a few more bus bounces sent his fingertip into the dent, and from there, up and down it, but what could I do?
Maybe he took the parting of my knees to mean I thought it OK, but all I was doing was trying to maintain my balance.
Up and down, his strokes. I wouldn’t have thought he’d have known the spot, but he seemed to. I wouldn’t have thought he’d have known how much pressure to apply, but again, he seemed to.
Nobody around us could tell what was going on, except for maybe Jeanie, but she was looking elsewhere and I hoped my wiggling seemed because of the ride.
Well, maybe the woman behind us also could tell and she’s probably a maid at our resort and the whole staff will know by tomorrow, but what can you do?
Accidentally being masturbated by your own boy isn’t something you’d expect to happen while riding a bus, but if I climaxed, I’d pass it off as a malarial attack, Mexico being tropical and all.
But so much for that, as our bus stop was upon us.
Making our way up the aisle, I was in front of Curtis, his sister, behind. Having just been on the receiving end of a little tom-foolery, myself, my shopping bag for cover, I reached behind to his shorts, and with Jeanie pushing him my way, confirmed what I’d felt earlier. I was rather sure he didn’t like me playing with him, especially not so publically, but I’d the upper hand. Literally.
Actually, maybe it wasn’t Jeanie’s pushing; maybe he was pushing back it himself, knowing it was just in fun.
Payback, the way I saw it, a little game you might play on a Mexican bus, though you wouldn’t want the Mexicans noticing. It would serve him right, himself getting masturbated, not me, but I’m not the kind who’d do that to her boy in public, and in any case, there wasn’t time.
When we got off, Jeanie said we should have ridden more often, as it’s more cultural. Walking from the stop to our place helped me realize that even being in Mexico didn’t make it OK to masturbate each other willy-nilly. As Americans, we should have limits like never while on public transport.
Back in our condo, the three of us sorted our shells. Where did this one come from? Who’d lived inside? If we return it to the sea, will it become a home for a little crab?
But oh, I so needed to resolve what Curtis had begun. When I tried to slip into my room to do it, though, Jeanie intervened. “Last chance to watch the sunset. Two blankets.”
OK, I could wait until bedtime. We’d all three be doing unstoppable masturbation and Jeanie would make sure my door was open.
The first stars were already overhead. I could taste the air, smell the water, feel the pounding of the surf.
“Mom needs her backrub, Curtis, Our final sunset,” Jeanie instructed. “First a kiss, though,” spreading the second blanket over our laps.
That we did. A rather nice one, actually.
“I’m heading down the beach,” Jeanie then decided. “See if those kids are still selling stuff.”
I doubted we’d room for more shells, but didn’t point it out.
Jeanie out of the way, Curtis and I pursued our kissing. It’s not wrong for your boy to think of you a bit sexually, is it? Playing around a little while watching the sunset helps your self-esteem.
My eyes were on the breakers, luminescent, one following the next. Maybe I should have said something when he removed my top, but I didn’t want to say too much.
He’d seen my breasts enough these past few days that I was almost used to it — maybe a little excited by his attention, to be honest — but it had been more private and as someone might come along, I pulled the blanket over us.
His arms wrapped across me the way banditos wear their bullets allowed me to remind him who’d been in charge at the end of our bus ride, and now I could finish the job. I was cautious in undoing his shorts, but did my best to act authoritative.
Maybe he was thinking along the same lines, as he likewise was unfastening my shorts. Under the blanket, working inside each other’s undies would be no problem whatsoever.
But I didn’t agree when he pushed down my panties, but by then it was too late, me wetter and wetter.
How’d he get naked, himself? How’d he get on top of me? I pulled the blanket over us, as someone might see.
His penis was against my thigh, but I wasn’t expecting it to move higher and then into me, me like a ripe mango. I’d have called for help, but feared a policeman might respond.
This is way more than I’d bargained for.
Wait, Curtis! I wanted to remind him, but not wanting to talk, gave a bounce to show I’d not said OK,
For sure he’d stop before things got too far, but it wasn’t as if I could control much. Actually, I wasn’t sure if I’d have been able to control it, had I been the one on top.
I’d have thought that he’d be quick about the rest — everybody knows that boys can’t wait — but it was just the opposite, holding me at the brink, backing off, and repeating. All I could do was listen to the waves, pull up the blanket and let him.
The thing was, I realized, was that Curtis wanted to make love to me, and being his mother, how could I not say yes. When the rubber meets the road, some things aren’t that complicated. Just an expression, of course, as he wasn’t wearing one and I was more like a slippery slide.
Then there was a silhouette, someone standing over us.
But when I next looked, no one was there.
I knew, though, that eyes were watching. We’d witnessed the professor from Mississippi with her paramedic friend from Tucson; the Harmons and the Jantzens. Why shouldn’t somebody watch me and Cutis?