by Henry Sands
Sean put his left hand through her hair and lowered it slowly down the side of her body, before resting it hovering over her right buttock. The song drew out, and over the mic, Diego thanked the crowd before announcing he was taking a short ten-minute break.
Lucinda felt the alcohol wearing off and suddenly felt enormously tired.
‘You know, Sean, it was great to meet you and your friends, but I’ve got to go and find my husband and go to bed. I’m exhausted.’
‘Won’t you stay, just for a while longer?’
‘No, I really must go. But you guys enjoy your night.’
‘What about one quick kiss, Lucinda? I’d so love to kiss you.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous! You’ve clearly been in the desert far too long. Go and find someone your own age.’
Lucinda gave Sean a hug and, feeling quite proud of herself and flattered by the attention she had been given, headed towards the bar to find Anthony.
*
Anthony and Ms Americano by this point had finished their bucket of drinks and had taken another two tequila shots from the passing waitresses wearing gunslinger belts loaded with shot glasses. Having also danced to Despacito, they had found a swinging seat behind the edge of the garden, on an entrance path to the jungle.
By now, the two pills and tequila were having a full impact, and the endorphins were charging around Anthony’s body. Everyone and everything he looked at gave him enormous pleasure. He lay back on the swinging hammock and put his arm around the Ms Americano. She smiled and lay back with him, resting her head upon his shoulder.
‘Do you know what’s strange?’ Anthony said, with his head towards the woman.
‘What’s that?’ she replied.
‘That I don’t even know you. At all, in fact. I literally know nothing about your life. And yet, I think – I know even – I love you. I just want you to be so happy.’
‘You’re ridiculous. A completely mad Englishman,’ she laughed at Anthony.
‘Would you like to go for a walk? Somewhere more private?’ Anthony said, surprising even himself with his new-found confidence.
‘You have a wife! And she’s here, at this party! Have you gone completely mad?’ she answered, still giggling.
‘I have a wife who earlier this evening told me she was planning on leaving me. I have a wife who for 99% of our marriage has not shown me the blindest bit of attention. I have a wife who I have not had sex with for about ten years. I have a wife who has been in love with another man for the duration of our marriage!’ Anthony looked up to the burning bright stars above him, and with his drink toasted his wife’s late husband: ‘Yup, thanks, David.’
‘Who’s David?’
‘The man my wife is in love with.’
‘Oh wow. She’s having an affair?’
‘Fortunately not. He lives up there. He’s dead.’
‘I see.’
Anthony continued to stare up at the stars in contemplation. The woman leaned over and kissed him. He kissed her back, feeling her soft lips against his.
‘Okay. Let’s get out of here,’ the woman whispered.
*
Lucinda did what she thought was two full circuits of the bar in her search for Anthony. After the first one, she embarrassed herself by bumping straight back into the young soldiers. She couldn’t face seeing them again on the second loop, so she turned back towards the restaurant area. There were now too many people to move, and even if she was close to Anthony, which she expected she was, she would have had to almost walk straight into him in order to find him. The music had become even louder, and Lucinda was unable to see above the heads of anyone else around.
This is getting silly, she thought to herself. What on earth are we doing at this party anyway? We’ll never find each other here. If Anthony was wandering around looking for her, Lucinda assumed he would soon enough have the same thought – to head back to the camp. She turned back past the reception and headed to the exit.
If she had looked behind on her way out, she would have seen Anthony and the woman in green emerging from the back garden. Fortunately for Anthony, she did not.
As she walked through the doorway, a hostess in a little black dress and holding a clipboard was standing in front of the entrance, restricting people coming in and out. To Lucinda’s surprise, she saw a queue of people trailing about three hundred metres down the road, all trying to get into the jungle party. Why people spent their entire evening queueing, and instead didn’t just go and start another party elsewhere, she had no idea.
The hostess waved at one of the official taxis from the rank opposite the entrance, and thanked Lucinda for coming. The driver opened the door and drove Lucinda the 1.5km back to Camp Mayo. The night security man was standing by the gate of the camp, shined a torchlight towards the path in front of her and escorted her back to their yurt.
Lucinda wondered whether she would find Anthony asleep already in their bed, having given up looking for her much earlier in the evening. To her surprise, he wasn’t there, but moments later she had tucked herself in the sheets, resting her tequila-swollen head against the pillow, without any concern for his whereabouts. She was convinced that he would make his own way back shortly and she’d wake up to find him lying next to her. They were flying home tomorrow and the last thing she wanted was a throbbing head for the journey. She drifted off to sleep.
*
The woman in the little black dress asked Anthony whether they needed a taxi as they left, as she had done only moments earlier, of Lucinda.
‘It’s okay, thanks. We’re going to walk,’ the woman in green answered, before Anthony had a chance to say anything.
‘Well, have a good night then, guys.’
They crossed the road and walked past the now closed beach bar opposite, and onto the sandy beach behind. The woman pointed out a small campfire burning about two miles down the beach.
‘That’s our camp. Do you think you’ll be okay to walk that?’ the woman asked.
‘Of course I will. I wish it was further. I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy.’
The water from the breaking waves was just touching the edge of their feet. In the background, the sound of the jungle party could still be heard about the rustle of palm trees around them. Anthony felt he’d become an extension of the environment around him, like an additional palm tree, only slightly more mobile and human.
The light of the burning campfire in the distance was becoming clearer. A warm breeze blew gently on their backs, carrying the now muffled beat of the jungle party towards them, as if beckoning them back. Anthony began explaining how this held deep meaning; an analogy of how mankind can never truly leave the grip of the jungle, regardless of how developed and sophisticated it became.
Before he had a chance to effectively explain this metaphor to the woman, she slid her hand into his and was now leading him up off the main stretch of the beach and into the dunes behind them.
Behind the first dune there was a patch of wavy grass. They sat down, and after only a short moment the woman wrapped her legs around Anthony, pushing him back onto the sand. He looked up at the stars above again before closing his eyes and resting his head against the sand.
With his right hand, he picked up a handful of the cold Mexican sand and let it seep through his open fingers, appreciating the texture of each single grain and trying to let himself believe this was truly happening. With his left hand, he stroked the woman’s back, disregarding the sound of distant voices from others on the beach.
He felt his belt buckle being opened, and the top button of his chinos was soon undone. The woman then pulled his trousers down, past his ankles, removing his blue check boxer shorts at the same time.
When Anthony re-opened his eyes he couldn’t bring himself to avert his gaze from the sky to see what was happening, when he felt a petite hand
clasp his rapidly swelling cock, while another slowly massaged his much-neglected balls. Any concerns he’d had over the ability to use his cock after such a long period of abstinence were banished. There was life in the old fella yet, he thought to himself.
The hand on his balls was then replaced by a tongue, which slowly worked its way up along the base of his cock. Circulating the tip of her tongue around every part of his shaft, she then wrapped her lips around his head and allowed the top half of his cock into her warm throat. Now on her knees in front of him, she moved her head back and forth, up and down, while her tongue continued to circulate around the head of his cock.
After a few minutes of this, she pulled her head back and tied her hair back. At some point in the process, she had removed her underwear, and now straddled herself above Anthony’s plentiful cock. With her left hand, she grasped his sturdy shaft and directed it inside her, before slowly allowing gravity to do its job.
With the support of her left hand, she drove herself against Anthony repeatedly. At sixty years of age, she had become accustomed to knowing what she wanted, and going about getting it in the way she wanted. Anthony was only too happy to oblige. Her moans became louder with each repetition and he could feel her juices running down onto him. She lowered her now bare chest down so her erect nipples hovered on the edge of Anthony’s lips, close enough for him to suck.
After several minutes that Anthony hoped would never end, the woman moved her tongue into Anthony’s mouth before whispering, ‘Come with me.’ He did so, almost on demand, filling the woman with what felt like a lost decade.
They took a deep inhale as they tried to catch their breath. On opening their eyes, they both noticed what seemed like a spotlight from a torch shine past them. The woman slid herself off Anthony, and as she did so, he noticed for the first time a tattoo of a shooting star on her inner thigh, just to the left of her vagina.
- Chapter Thirteen -
London, UK
The offices of Brennan & Co were within a large modern glass building off Baker Street. It seemed to be a popular place for property companies, with Knight Frank headquarters around the corner and CBRE opposite them.
Jack would cycle into the office in the morning, up the Fulham Road, until he reached South Kensington, at which point he would cut up Exhibition Road and into Hyde Park. From there he could cut past the memorial fountain for Princess Diana, over the Serpentine Bridge, and straight up the cycle path to Marble Arch, normally catching the Household Cavalry returning to Knightsbridge Barracks from their morning exercise ride out.
By the time he reached his office, it was about 7.30am, which normally gave him at least half an hour to have a shower, get changed, and begin reading the emails that came into the team overnight before his boss, Angus, arrived shortly after 8am.
Even though he knew he didn’t want to work in property for the rest of his life, he had enjoyed much of his first few weeks at the company, and felt he had been positioned in a good department dealing with the private client side of the business. His first project was to try and find a buyer for an office block behind Carnaby Street, a property that one of their South African clients recently mentioned in passing that he owned, and could do with shifting. Then he had a Turkish man on his books who was after both a house and an office, ideally combined. The eclectic mixture of clients kept it interesting.
When he was at his desk, he tried to avoid using his phone as much as possible, choosing instead to clear groups of WhatsApp messages that came through during his lunch break. But this morning, when he saw an alert come through from the “Tulum Tigers”, he picked his phone up and opened the message. It was from Kyle, an American guy who worked at the Papaya Playa beach bar, and also understudied Diego sometimes as a DJ.
Walking back last night along the strip with a couple of guys from work… decide to cut across to the beach for the final stretch, and then came across this… Look familiar, Jack?
Jack pushed the download button on his phone, to find a naked Noelle riding another man in the sand.
Jack laughed and responded to the group:
Yup, thanks for that! I’d tried to put that out of my mind. Glad to see she’s still got it, though.
A couple of moments later, Jack left his desk and went to the bathroom. He opened up the video and played it again. There was no doubt it was Noelle, but it was the man in the video, with his cream chinos rolled down to his ankles, that he was more interested in. He zoomed in closer and ran the video in slow time, conscious that if anyone walked in, they would think he was some kind of sick pervert. For much of the video the man had his head buried in Noelle’s tits, but towards the end, clearly when the man is climaxing, Jack thought with a shudder, he moves back and collapses against the sand. Jack zoomed in on this part as much as his trusty iPhone 6 with a shattered screen allowed. The face looked uncomfortably familiar.
Surely not, he told himself. He looked again. There, romping with his own holiday fling from a few weeks earlier, was his stepfather, Anthony. It was even in almost the exact same spot behind the beach.
Sickened, he put his phone away and took the stairs down to the ground floor exit of the building. He walked out onto Baker Street, on a cold and cloudy January morning, and took himself for a walk towards Portman Square. He continued left onto Wigmore Street, and up towards Cavendish Square Gardens where he found a bench to sit on. He pulled out his phone and watched the video again, torturing himself with the horror of the situation, and felt an overwhelming concern for his mother.
He was staggered that Anthony, of all people, could have betrayed his mother like that, though he knew deep down that she could be dismissive and unpleasant towards him. Despite that, Jack had never had him down as a philandering zipper, like so many middle-aged men he had come across.
Another part of him felt angry and slightly disturbed at seeing Noelle, whose vagina he had spent forty minutes intimately massaging as part of Leonardo’s mad yoni massaging classes, before he spent at least that again fucking her in the dunes as roughly as she had requested. Despite her being older than his mother, he felt at least some sort of bond had been struck between them. And now she was fucking someone else, so quickly, in the very same spot. And not any old person. His bloody stepfather! The man who had brought him up. This was beyond weird. What would happen now? What was he meant to do? He started to feel physically sick.
He looked at the names on the WhatsApp group. It was only Leonardo who could possibly recognise the man in the video and make the connection, but he was unlikely to look too closely and recognise him through the blur.
He thought about calling his sister, but suspected she would take an emotional and likely irrational approach to the whole situation. Besides, he didn’t want her to have to come down from her post-engagement high. There was also the risk that she would probably blame him for sending them on the trip in the first place.
What the fuck am I meant to do now?, he said to himself. Beyond the immediate problem that his stepfather was having sex with a woman behind his mother’s back, he was also concerned that the video could end up going viral on the internet.
While he was equally guilty of having forwarded similar videos he had been sent on his phone to other groups on a number of occasions, he understandably wanted to stop this one in its tracks. It wasn’t just because of the potential humiliation due to Anthony’s participation; he also wanted to protect Noelle, and what was left of her dignity. He hardly knew her but, despite her age and naughty antics, he knew there was a vulnerability about her, which is what had led her to Tulum in the first place.
He decided to call Kyle, and asked him to promise to delete the video and withdraw it from the group. To his comfort, Kyle understood and agreed. He immediately deleted it from the group chat, but only after Jack had already saved his own copy of the film. Only one other person in the group had responded, and the others were most likely still as
leep.
In the end, Jack decided that the best course of action was, in fact, not to do anything immediately. He would wait and see how the situation panned out first.
He could still send a text to his mother, he thought, just to check in. Although WhatsApp was a technological step too far for her, she was a prolific texter.
Everything going okay out there? All set for your trip home? J x
He thought that her response would be a good indicator of what to expect. He looked at his watch and knew it would be nearly 7am there now, and she would soon be awake if she wasn’t already.
He stood up from his bench and began walking back towards the office. A few minutes later, he heard his phone ping. Lucinda had replied.
Had a surprisingly glorious time, actually. Even went to your jungle party last night and managed to completely lose your stepfather. We both seem to have made it home in the end, though! Thank you, darling. Love, your mother x
His mother clearly didn’t know anything yet. Jack felt the only thing he could do was to allow things, at least initially, to play themselves out. They actually went to the jungle party, which was unexpected in itself. Something bonkers must have happened there, he thought to himself.
As he sat at his desk for the rest of the day, he was in a state of perpetual confusion, wondering just what exactly had led to this all happening, and questioning his own responsibility in the sordid situation.
Even though he knew his mother wasn’t particularly loving to Anthony, thanks to his congenial manner, he had always assumed that he was okay with that. He’d always been so fond of Anthony. His stepfather had been nothing but decent, not just to Lucinda, but to Sophie and Jack too, for the whole of his living memory. He just wasn’t the sort to mess around behind his mother’s back. It was just not his style. With a melting pot of conflicting emotions and loyalties, Jack found himself in unchartered territory.
