The Seduction

Honduras. Years ago. Years.

Resort. Beautiful. Bar. On the Beach.
Young blond guy. Turns out he was 18. Even as young as I was back then, I still had 10 years on him. God he was Gorgeous. He actually took my breath away when I first looked at him.
Sunset. Tropical drinks with 6 kinds of rum. Edible flowers.

I walked right up to him. Smiling. Staring. “What’s your name?”

“Kelly,” he said. Shook my hand.

Eye contact. Deadly. I grinned. “Kelly, I am going to seduce you.” Before the week is over. Before I go home. I am going to have you.

He laughed. Not interested. Thanks but no thanks.
But we can have a drink together. Can’t we?

“Sure we can.” I nodded. “So what brings you to Honduras?”

Diving. Diving Club. Class trip, from school.
“Freshman?” I asked.
“Senior.” He answered.

High school. God… he was still in high school. Young. Hard. Pretty. Blond. Tanned. New.
I’m pretty sure I was drooling.

Personable. Polite. Friendly enough. But there to dive. That’s it. Just dive. Nothing personal. Not interested.

Okay, I said. Okay.

He spent every day diving the reefs.
I spent every day at the Dolphin Research Institute.

And every night, I went. To the beach. At the resort.
Fruity rum drinks. Sunsets. Waves.
To the bar where we met.
A parrot that would walk up and down the bamboo shade saying, “Mamacita, I tink I luuuvvv you.”
A bartender that would bring us many many complimentary rum samplers.
A calm lagoon. A breath taking sky. Another world.
Every night, after dinner, in the sunset, in that resort bar, I would wait.
And every night, after dinner, to that beach, he would come.

Great conversations. Many laughs. Flirting. My most concentrated effort ever.
Every night I’d ask him: Escort me back. To my bungalow. Across the lagoon, on the private island. Just two bungalows there. Mine and one that had been empty since I’d arrived. No one there. Like a private island. Just beach. And moon.
Every night he would decline.

Until the last. The last night of my stay.

That long blond wavy hair. In his big blue eyes. Two rum drinks to go. We took the row boat across the lagoon.

I had stated my intentions. Before I even told him my name. I told him my intentions. He knew.
The perfect setting. The quiet private beach. Gentle lagoon waves. The moon. The tropical breeze. The wet. The want. The week, spent seducing him.

We fucked in the sand. We fucked in the water. We fucked on the small docked raft. We fucked in a wooden beach chair that we broke, and drove down into the sand. All night long. It had taken everything I had to seduce this kid. I was going to get my time’s worth.

We woke up naked. Entangled. In the wet sand. In the lapping water. In the sunrise. In the sounds of the tropical birds and the waves. We grinned. We wished each other well. He left. I hurried.
Plane to catch.

In my bungalow. Throwing bathing suits and pooka shell necklaces into my suitcase. Then I remembered.

Condoms.

We left condoms. All over. From one end of the beach to the other.

I rushed outside again. Up and down the private beach. Picking them up.

And then the door opened. To the bungalow next to mine. The bungalow. That had been vacant for my entire visit. Up until then.

The man that walked out was smiling. Stood on his steps. Waved to me.

Great, I thought. Great. Watched. By a stranger. That’s fucking great.
With a fist full of used condoms, I waved back.

Then a woman followed. She stood in the doorway. Yelled at him. Get back inside.
I guess he wasn’t allowed to wave to me.
I looked at her. In the doorway. Angry and glaring.

And that’s when I saw it. Behind her. Inside the bungalow. Right there in the doorway. Video equipment. A lot of expensive video equipment. Probably intended for filming dolphins and dives. Not seductions. But an opportunity presented. Didn’t it.

What’s better than secretly being watched by strangers?
Secretly being filmed by strangers. That’s what.

Years afterward, I would remember, and think: Damn! That video is going to show up one day. On the internet. Shit.

And then I turned 40. And all that changed.

I’m older. And I’m all that goes with that.
I’ll never look like that again. Like I did. On that beach. At that resort. Tanned. Twenty eight. Agile. Bendable. Insatiable. Tight. Young. Firm.
And seducing an 18 year old that looked like something from Norse mythology.

So now, when I remember, I think: Damn, I really hope that video shows up on Youtube or something.

“They say the devil’s water, it ain’t so sweet,
You don’t have to drink right now.
But you can dip your feet,
Every once in a little while.”
-The Killers

Credit: Veronica @ Lonely Roads & Psycho Paths