Jaylee looked out her hotel window to the street below. It was truly a sea of people, singing, dancing, wearing brightly colored costumes, and continuing a several day celebration of Carnivale, the Latin American version of Mardi Gras.
From all appearances this festival in the streets was even more exciting than the days in New Orleans, and Jaylee couldn't wait to soak up the culture. Windows open, the smells of foods cooking, and the warm February evening made for an exciting prospect. She'd always heard that Carnivale brought out the strangest things in people, and the locals considered it with a magical time.
With little thought, she laced up her shoe, put the "boot" on her casted leg, slipped her hotel room key, passport, and a few dollars into her pocket, and headed out. In fifteen minutes she was part of the throng, moving to the beat of the music, and wandering down the street looking at a variety of street vendors and parade entries.
An hour or so later, Jaylee was starting to get tired. It was almost midnight, and she started making her way back down Via Espana toward Costa del Sol, her hotel. When she was about 8 blocks away, she realized three things. First, she was really tired and her leg hurt from all the walking, second, somehow she'd misplace her hotel key, and third, the custom of spraying revelers with hoses had probably not done her cast any good.
Gritting her teeth, soaked to the skin, she continued going toward the hotel. She ran into him at that point, and for an instant, they were both speechless. They had met on her first trip to Panama, and had kept close thanks to email, letters, and an occasional international phone call. Six months ago, on her last trip down, she had caught him looking at her and badgered him into telling her he was thinking of kissing her. But they'd not had any time alone to explore that thought, and had gingerly flirted since.
"You weren't supposed to be in town!"
"My orders were changed and I got back last night. We have a lot of catching up to do, beginning with why you are out here alone and how you managed to need a cast."
Jaylee tried to explain how she was so intrigued by the celebration that she wanted to see it firsthand, and she mumbled about how she'd promised to be careful if the doctor released her to travel after the surgery. Miguel listened, his arm draped protectively around her as they slowly walked along the street. They stopped and he bought her a grape snow cone, complete with the sweetened condensed milk on the top, and laughed at how she looked about six trying to eat it.
When he noticed her limping becoming more pronounced, he asked if her leg was hurting, and she denied it, saying it was just the uneven terrain of the street.
"You're lying to me Jaylee," he said with a lilt to his voice, "and little girls who lie should be spanked. Of course you've done several things tonight that deserve a spanking."
Jaylee's face turned a hundred shades of red, and she tried to respond, but he really didn't care about her responses at that point, and made short order of carrying her piggyback the few remaining blocks to the hotel. He set her down on the cool marble entryway, and went to the desk. A few exchanges later in rapid-fire Spanish and he was carrying a key to her room.
Once in the hotel room, he pulled her into a long hug. "Get into dry clothes and then we'll talk," and with a soft swat on the backside he propelled her into the bathroom to change.
Jaylee rejoined him, hopping on the bed to recline and talk about all that had happened in the intervening time since they had last seen each other. He wanted to know about her latest knee surgery, and even more so how she had sweet-talked a doctor into letting her travel so soon afterwards.
Somehow in the midst of being held and conversation, she felt his large hand on the back of her neck pulling her to him. And then it happened, the kiss about which they had been talking for months. One kiss led to many, and both of them felt the room spinning.
"I need to go missy, and you need some sleep. It's almost three in the morning. Why don't you get dressed for bed, and I'll tuck you in before I leave."
She didn't want him to leave, but reluctantly went to change. He had to smile when she emerged from the bathroom wearing a shirt from Ft. Clayton he had given her on a previous visit. He was at least a foot taller, and so the shirt, which had been his, came to mid-thigh. Underneath it he could see the outline of her panties. He pulled her onto the bed and kissed her again.
Holding her, he whispered into her ear, "Remember what I said about little girls needing a spanking?"
Jaylee blushed again, and nodded, afraid to trust her voice to say anything.
"You're very much a grown woman, we both know that. But I still think you could use a spanking..." his voice drifted off as she started shaking her head from side to side.
With a husky teasing to his voice, he said, "Jaylee, maybe you are a little girl, and in that case you definitely need your backside spanked…but I think you're more grownup and are afraid to admit the idea turns you on. I could tell by the way your breath caught when I first mentioned it."
"You're right..."
Positioning was a bit tricky, as the maroon full leg cast interfered. Finally he sat with his back against the headboard so the bed could support her as she lay across his lap. Slowly and sensuously, he rubbed her bottom, and slowly eased her panties down and ultimately off, followed by the shirt.
Jaylee murmured at his touch, realizing his hands were so large that her could practically cover her bottom with one swat. He began softly, building intensity until the slaps rang out across the room, and Jaylee's cheeks began to sting and burn. He would pause and rub her, finally sliding finger or two into the dampness between her legs, knowing more than her bottom was getting hot.
An hour or so later after he had stripped and enjoyed the fire he had built in her, Miguel looked at her sleeping in his arms. Blonde hair splayed across his chest, dark from both heritage and hours in the sun. Carefully, he slipped out of bed and dressed, not wanting to wake her.
When the sun came streaming in her window, she found a note:
"Be good or else…I'll pick you up for dinner tonight at 6:00."
Jaylee was convinced — Carnivale was magic, and so was how liberated he made her feel.