Sabrina

London

Princess

Dubai

Tara

Dubai

Maris

London

My Trip to Mexico has Healed my Broken Heart Part 2

My Trip to Mexico has Healed my Broken Heart Part 2

So the day of our flight has come. My beautiful high-class escort, Sabrina, arrived after half of the passengers had boarded. A tall brunette female who is incredibly attractive and has a nice smile. She welcomed me warmly and offered me a warm hug, which I returned. She had a lovely smile. When she smiled, her lips seemed to fill her entire face despite their size.

We followed the standard safety briefing and took off safely. She requested a glass of wine while I got vodka and tonic. We didn't notice or care about the person in the other chair, who was fast sleeping with his head against a pillow.

"So, what's your story?" she asked suddenly.

"Actually, I'm supposed to fly alone; you're seated where my girlfriend should have been, but we split up, and I decided to come anyway because I haven't had a good break in years," I admitted, hoping she wouldn't think I was a sad case.

"That is awful, and I'm truly sorry," she said.

"Well, I'll drink to that," I replied, holding my drink up, and she simply smiled and clinked her pint glass against mine, saying, "cheers."

"So, have you ever gone to Mexico?" she asked, clearly making a small chat.

"Nope, first time; I've been to the States before but never south of the border. You?"

She laughed at this unintended joke. "Yes, my buddies and I went to Cancun a couple of years ago and always thought we'd go back, but we're a little older now, so we're heading somewhere a little quieter for some rest and leisure when they get there."

"My name is Chris, by the way," I said, holding out my hand to her. "Sabrina," she answered, grabbing my hand in hers.

We talked for the whole of the flight; she was really easy to talk to. It wasn't anything deep or dramatic; it was simply an ordinary travel chat about what we wanted to visit and do when we arrived. Both appeared to be about to unwind and forget about the rest of the world.

The plane landed at Cancun Airport, and we took off together, me assisting her with her hand luggage when I realized it was the first time I had genuinely paid attention to her while she was standing, and I had to agree she was stunning. Not in the typical swimsuit model manner, but in her own. She was tall, yet just slightly shorter than me. She appeared to have a good-sized chest as well, but I couldn't tell because her clothes were so loose.

We managed to pass through passport control, gathered our luggage, and made our way to the coaches that would take us to our hotel.

We arrived at the hotel in 40 minutes and were not disappointed. The location was stunning, and the photos did not do it justice. We were greeted with a glass of champagne at the door and led to the check-in booths.

The complex's shuttle golf cart service drove us to our room. It was wonderful to kick back and have a glass of champagne while being transported around. Our suite was accompanied by a butler. He showed us around our room, explaining how to order room service through the TV and the other services that the butler provided. It was truly an amazing hotel.

We went to the hotel pool for some leisure after a few hours of relaxation. I went down to the pool, leaving Sabrina to change her clothing. I wanted to give her the privacy she deserved. She didn't take long to join me in the pool, trembling slightly due to the cold temperature.

"Cheers to a wonderful holiday," she added as she offered me a drink.

We both relaxed into our loungers after a few lapses in the pool. I can finally see her clearly, although in a bikini. She had a beautiful body. She wasn't a stick figure, but she had all the proper curves. Her busts appeared to be about the size of a C, not too big, not too small, but yet enough to avoid staring at.

We sat all day chatting about things we hadn't talked about on the plane, such as what we did for work, where we lived, and, most significantly, how old we were. I was almost 28, and she was 25, but girls were always drawn to older men.

It had been a nice day spent sitting together and swimming occasionally; I always paid special attention when she applied her sun cream. Her hands moved around her chest as she applied cream to the exposed areas.

By late afternoon, I'd had enough of the sun for the day and needed to get ready for something in the evening, so I asked for dinner.

"Chris, what were your plans for dinner tonight? Did you make reservations at any of the restaurants, or were you planning on ordering room service?"

"I hadn't considered it yet, but I was looking at the steakhouse this morning, and their menu looked really delicious; I need to speak with the butler and see if they have any availability; he told me last night that they aren't as busy as usual this year."

"I'll take a decent steak," she answered promptly.

"Yeah, I'd really enjoy that, but it's nearly 5 o'clock, so how about we go visit the butler and see what's available?" I said.

"Sounds amazing," she said, finishing her drink and placing the empty glass on the table; I had lost track of how many we had already consumed. She didn't bother putting on her t-shirt or shorts again instead of stuffing them inside her beach bag. We gathered our belongings and returned to our hotel. She grasped my hand around ten seconds into the trip back, not looking ashamed or shy at all.

As we entered, the butler greeted us both. We asked whether there was any availability at the steakhouse that night. There was one for 7.30 pm, which was ideal because it would allow us time to get ready and have a pre-dinner drink. We made the decision to go for it. We returned to our hotel to prepare.

"Sabrina, you look amazing," she said. She was dressed in a long, tight-fitting black gown that showed off her wonderful shape; I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra because her tits were visible. She was gorgeous.

"Thank you; you look really well yourself; would you like to walk to the lobby or take public transportation?"

"It's a wonderful evening; let's go for a walk."

We strolled out of the hotel hand in hand, just as we had entered a few hours before.

The complex was not overly large, and walking to the restaurant took less than five minutes. We walked hand in hand in pleasant silence, enjoying each other's company.

We still had a half-hour before our reservation, so we opted to get a drink first. We got the same thing we got on the plane: a glass of wine for her and a vodka tonic for me. We went to our nice recliners and settled in.

"Cheers, do you have any clue how many cocktails we've had today?" she joked.

"No, I gave up trying to keep track after lunch; I could never drink this much at home," I explained.

"I'm not going to lie, I felt a little unsteady in the shower, especially when I leaned down to get the shampoo and when I stood back up."

I couldn't help but imagine that. Her standing naked in the shower, washing herself. Her busts were coated in foamy bubbles.

It didn't take long for our table to be ready. We were given a selection of appetizers and beverages. We decided to stick with our previous drinks, but she shocked me by adding two shots of tequila on top.

"Wow, straight to shots? Are you trying to get me drunk?" I questioned.

"Perhaps," she said, winking. "Well, we're in Mexico; it would be rude not to try."

"In that case, salut," I said, downing my shot in one. Even though we had spent the entire day chatting, there were no awkward silences.

"I think you're incredibly hot," she may have added.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," I smiled, sitting in a lovely restaurant with a beautiful woman, enjoying a nice meal, and she had just told me she thought I was hot.

We finished our meal without eating dessert, instead of ordering two more shots of tequila, which I drank in one shot.

We left the restaurant and contemplated our next steps; there was delightful family entertainment on, but neither of us was in the mindset for it.

"I know it sounds corny, but would you like to go for a walk down by the beach?", I asked.

"That would be good; it's a beautiful night, and I need to walk off that steak; I'm already looking big here."

"No, you don't. You look perfect," I said as I looked her in the eyes.

I drew her gently into my arms and kissed her on the lips, the tequila giving me a sudden surge of confidence. She melted in my arms despite the fact that it was merely a light kiss.

"I've wanted you to do that all night," she said.

"I'm pleased I did it back then; let's go for a walk."

Hand in hand, we walked the entire length of the beach in quiet. I couldn't believe how easy she made me feel. I'd never felt this way about my ex.

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