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We're driving down Allen Road. A dirt road of white sand descending south from the ruins of Tulum leads to the southern end of the Yucatan Peninsula. I'm sitting in the trunk of a big American pickup truck half buried in the equipment we're going to need for the work we're going to do. We are a crew that makes documentaries, about marine fauna, nature reserves, in the most remote and fascinating places on the planet. With me are Folco and Elvira. She's the director, she's in charge of organization, editing, and production. Folco takes me diving, and I do the shooting. I have a long experience of underwater shooting, I have done more than a thousand dives, in all seas and conditions. At the helm of the off-road vehicle is Juanita, the owner of the diving in Cancun who has taken care of the logistics, and who will accompany us to the points where we hope to be able to film the fauna and flora that will be the theme of the documentary.
The road runs flat, between two spots formed by tropical plants, palm trees and thorny bushes. Every now and then the blue of the sea appears on the left, with the white, sunny and deserted beach. I feel like taking a bath, quenching my thirst, washing away the dust, which causes the sweat caused by the humid heat of the afternoon, to stick to the skin, forming a thin brownish crust. Then, finally, after an hour of shocks, a clearing opens, and in the middle of a green meadow, some coloured houses appear, with a thatched roof, while, towards the beach, some small streets lead to some open spaces under the palms, with small Japanese off-road vehicles parked. We arrive at our resort, The Ascension Bay Lodge.
A white and green building with a thatched roof in the middle of the palm trees. Underfoot only white sand, which continues to the sea, a few dozen meters away. The pick up stops and with a jump I get off the caisson. The other three have also got off. Juanita looks at us and asks if she likes us. How could we not like it, it seems like paradise. It takes an hour to fix everything. I put mine in a singer's drawer in the room they assigned me. A big fan buzzes bored, barely moving the heavy air. I undress and go to the shower. The warm water regenerates me and I start thinking. I'm almost forty years old, and for more than ten years now I've been living as if I were suspended, homeless and aimless, letting my days mark out from work, from these continuous expeditions, in remote places, far from any temptation. Folco and Elvira are my family, even if they have a place that for better or worse awaits them, a home, a buen retreat. I don't remember having a sex life. A few boyfriends before the age of thirty, but then not receiving great satisfaction from living a bond with a man, I preferred to enter into this sort of "cloister". Men are indifferent to me and I have no attraction for them. I see women as friends, sometimes as in the case of Elvira, the sister I never had. I live this situation with serenity, I have no particular shame, and when I can sunbathe naked, I almost never wear the costume under my clothes, so often everyone can see me, without this causing me embarrassment, and I don't pay attention to other people's thoughts about the matter.
I decide to go to the beach, to see the sea up close. I wear a red sundress, which barely covers me. I'm not wearing a bathing suit, I caught a glimpse of a group of tourists lying naked in the sun. Physically I hold myself very well, I am toned, blond and always tanned. I arrive on the shoreline. The sand is white, and the sea is turquoise. A hundred meters out to sea you can see the reef. I take off my sundress, and putting on a pair of waterproof goggles, I slip into the sea. The water is warm, not very salty. I swim slowly, and in the meantime I start to see the fauna, which is numerous moving under me, curious and suspicious, always ready to escape. Parrot fish, some napoleons, a couple of crossbows looking threateningly at me. The bottom begins to degrade, and I see the barrier that emerges, covered with coral, sponges and alcyonarians. I put my feet on the sand, hoping not to step on some stone fish, and I turn towards the beach enjoying the spectacle of this immaculate little Eden.
We are on the big dinghy that Juanita got from a rental agency. We have loaded what we need for a dive and we are ready to go. The two Yamaha outboards mumble quietly as we slowly move away from the jetty. When we're a few dozen metres away, Juanita at the helm pushes the throttle forward, and the engines with a choked scream start pushing hard. The raft splashes out of the water and enters the glide, running lightly over the surface of the sea, flat and shimmering. I'm in the stern seat and I watch Juanita. She has a pair of red and white soccer shorts, and a vertical striped tank top, always the same color. Her long, straight, black hair is tied in a tail that reaches almost up to her buttocks, firm and turned. Very dark complexion, black eyes, cheekbones a bit protruding, which betray Mayan blood in the offspring. She is a very beautiful girl, she has an exotic, disturbing charm, exalted by her being a modern woman, realized in her particular work, free and independent. She turns and smiles at me, making a sign, as if to indicate a barrier that can be glimpsed further south, on the route we are taking. I get up and grab a handrail on the wheelhouse, I stand next to her so that I can better observe. We are almost the same height, maybe I a little more, and the contrast of her so dark and black of hair, with my blonde, my light eyes, must be for an external observer of remarkable effect, of attraction. While we observe the point where we will drop anchor, to make our first dive, which will be a test, a first contact with the environment, the first adjustments of the camera, the chords on the signals to communicate, maybe it causes the jolts of the raft, we touch our arms, knees, hips. I feel that she doesn't mind this, she smiles at me, and with the back of one hand she touches my cheek, a gesture that I interpret as a request for friendship, which I am willing to grant her very willingly.
The anchor has made a good grip on the sandy bottom, and we are preparing ourselves. As always I take off my sundress and remain naked. I wear the half millimetre wetsuit suitable for tropical waters, then the fins, the gav with the tank and the regulator and the belt with the weights. The mask and the case with the camera inside, I throw them in the water. And then I jump into the sea. I retrieve the mask and camera and go underneath. In a couple of minutes, I'm at the bottom about ten meters down. I look up and I see Juanita coming down, and she reaches me, she gives me the OK sign, and then slowly moving her fins she heads towards the reef, illuminated by the rays of the sun, which falling vertically into the clear, transparent water creates a sort of luminous wall, inside which the first coloured fish appear.
Folco had a malaria attack. He contracted this disease many years ago in Africa, during a long stay, and now he keeps it under control, with a specific cure, but every now and then he is subject to these relapses, which debilitate him for some days, forcing him to rest. Elvira is busy processing and editing the first images I started to shoot, and so Juanita and I were left alone in our explorations. She learned how to assemble my equipment to perfection, and supports me in the shooting, lighting the scenery, guiding me safely through landscapes and locations that she knows by heart.
Tomorrow we will go to an uninhabited island further south, Cayo Culebra, where we will stay for two or three days. We have been working since the morning to load all the equipment on the raft, enough tanks for diving, the tent and the supplies. Now after a bath and a shower we have allowed ourselves a dinner at the posada Roseliz. The owner set us outside, on the sand, in the light of an oil lamp. The dinner is all sea shellfish, and spicy side dishes, in pure Mexican style. This evening we indulged ourselves with a bottle of Californian white wine, since it is not a good rule to take alcohol, when you make sustained cycles of diving, but given the day off, and the fact that even tomorrow, between transfer with the dinghy and accommodation of the equipment we will hardly manage to get into the water, we decided to let ourselves be tempted by the transgression. Juanita and I are very tuned in. The perfect agreement that we found in diving, is also manifested in our daily life. Same habits, timing, reflections. We don't talk much, but we are united by a unity of intent, so often, we don't need to communicate, because our minds elaborate the same thought. Now I am observing her in the dim light of the lamp, while she tells me about her life. It's the first time she's spoken for so long. Graduated in marine biology in Mexico City, secured a position as an assistant in the faculty, but then irresistible the call of the sea and freedom, they brought her to these beaches, to start her career as a professional diver. Then, with a stroke of luck, thanks to her university knowledge, a large international fund allowed her to open her own diving club, where she coordinates and supports the expeditions of researchers and documentary filmmakers from all over the world. She never talks to me about her love life. She hasn't mentioned that she has a boyfriend or husband. She lives alone, she "married the sea".
The day was tiring, but exciting. Two large mantas escorted us for a long time, swimming alongside us. I was able to film them in an exceptional way. Then in a ravine of a wall, a huge green moray eel, rolled up like a big tire. He looked at us for a long time with his mouth wide open, showing his sharp teeth, turning his cold black eyes like two lead balls. Juanita caressed her chin, and she was docile and calm, not at all afraid, she seemed almost pleased with that contact, with a being so strange and far from her world. For a moment I wanted to be in the place of that moray eel, to have a home, a place to stop, to stay forever anchored, to enjoy for a few moments, the arrival of some visitors. We had some refreshments and now the sun has set as early as anywhere else in the tropics. I took out the big inflatable mattress from the small tent that offers us shelter, and I placed it on the sand, a few steps from the sea. Maybe tonight we'll sleep outside. I opened a sleeping bag and laid it out like a blanket on the rubberized canvas and we lay down.
Juanita put herself in the fetal position turned towards me, I feel her knees against my side, and her hand grazing my arm. She started talking to me about her, and for the first time I heard her mention love, relationships. She has a warmer voice, sweeter than normal, and also the way she touches me, while before it was always casual, never morbid, this time I feel it as a tremor, as if it was conditioned by an emotional shock long repressed, and now finally released. I understand that after a few brief teenage relationships, she too has kept her sexuality in a forgotten place, not attracted to any man, seeing other women as friends, in a gender neutrality that is not understandable, but impossible to contrast. Then she takes a long pause in which I turn towards her and we stay for a long time, looking into each other's eyes in the glow of a bright half moon. In my head a thousand thoughts and sensations, doubts, hopes, repressed desires, distant impulses that I didn't want to give space to, and that now were overwhelming and impetuous.
The desire to kiss her, to feel the warmth of her body in contact with mine, to taste her mouth, the smell of her sex, which in those days, had assailed me in brief moments of uncontrolled thought was now making its way through my mind, more and more decisive, overbearing and inalienable. Then our bodies slowly approach each other, and merge into an embrace with our mouths looking for each other and then stick together in a kiss, at first light, and then deeper and more and more passionate. It's the first time I kiss a woman in the mouth, in the same way you kiss a lover, a boyfriend. And it had been so long that it hadn't happened to me in general, that I had almost forgotten the sensations, the afrori.
We are lying against each other and as I explore her mouth with my tongue, her sweet saliva inebriates me. I review her white teeth and soft palate. I lick her lips, I suck her nose, tasting the saltiness of her skin, the residues of the sea. I feel her starting to pant and press with her sex against my thighs, that she wants to be touched, to enjoy. I press my chest against hers, and her nipples are hard, swollen, red like a fiery sunset. I lay her on my back and start kissing her breast. Her tits are small and hard, turgid with desire, with the desire to be licked. I start sucking her nipples and I feel the salt on her skin, it fills my mouth making me even greedier of her taste. I would like to touch her, but the fear of breaking that spell and the hindrance of my first time, with a female sex in contact with my hand, stop me, prevent me from crossing that border. Suddenly she grabs my forearm and guides my hand towards the goal that desire and fear prevented me from reaching. For the first time I push the sex of another woman with my hand. It's soft, moist and voluptuous. I begin to touch where I think, like when I was doing it with mine, it could provide the most pleasure. He starts to yell and with one arm he holds me tight, throwing himself into an insanely passionate, suffocating kiss. I feel a touch on my sex, and two fingers that fast and precise have taken to massage my clitoris, first slowly, then faster and faster, nervous, frantic.
A never felt heat spreads in my bowels, fills my abdomen, I feel my vagina contracting, pulsating, flooding, like never before in my life. Then she turns on my back and always kissing me in the mouth, opens my thighs, and starts rubbing her sex against mine. I feel the pubic bone rubbing against hers in a circular motion, then she arches her back and our clitoris start rubbing against each other, up and down, left and right, faster and faster, more and more pressed. We get to enjoyment at the same time, synchronized as in everything we've done up until then. A great heat and uncontrolled impulses shake my body and I have to shout, to vent the accumulated tension, which suddenly turned into pleasure. Juanita also emits a scream, and then she starts to wheeze, collapses on me and jerks for a few moments, only to remain motionless with her mouth glued back to mine in a long sweet kiss.
We were on the Cayo for a week. We warned Folco with the satellite that we would extend for a few more days, and decided to stay until the water supply would be enough. We had plenty of food, and then some mango and banana plants did the rest. The last two days we stopped diving and dedicated only to the two of us, to cultivate our love. I think for the first time in my life I'm really in love, and Juanita is too. We confessed it on the evening of the last day. The afternoon had passed slowly, dilated. We had made love on the shore, with the water lapping us quietly, while we kissed between our thighs, savoring our moods. Now we are lying on the mattress covered with a sleeping bag, hugging each other we are looking at a big full moon, which draws a long silver trail on the sea, and that ends on the beach a few meters from our feet. For the third or fourth time we make love. This time, however, we feel a need to merge with other people's bodies, always sought after, but never so powerful and uncontrolled. We tighten madly almost to hurt ourselves, and then with contrasting sex we seek the pleasure that comes almost ferocious, painful, devastating. For the first time we squeak both and our fluids mix by washing our thighs and belly. We remain stuck rubbing each other, listening to the sound of the soaked skin that sticks and comes off. Then he takes me by the hand and takes me into the sea, where we enter until the water reaches our chest, and we embrace each other. And we confess what we could never believe to be true.
Folco and Elvira turn around and with a quick wave of their hand they greet us and then walk towards the gate where they are waiting for the flight to Miami, and then for the return home.
I'm not going home with them. I finally found my home now and I know it is here next to Juanita. I'm going to work with her in diving, and I'm sure I'll find jobs to shoot movies with her, or as a dive master I'll teach courses to get my diving filming license. The idea, at least for now, of living without each other is inconceivable to us, and as long as fate will allow, we will remain united as one.
Juanita smiles at me, takes me by the hand, and walking towards the exit she tells me :
"Let's go guapa, they're waiting for us at the dive."
.
 


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