It happened during one of the many warm summer nights we shared back in Santa Marta. As bored as we were and having the beach close by, the desire to walk barefoot on the sand without it burning the soles of our feet sounded like a fun experience to take part into. Thus, we made arrangements for a brief nocturnal escape.
We had it all planned by the time our friends arrived. Their vehicle wasn’t much of a looker, being this old hippie-style van that smelled of grease and tobacco. However, hearing the sound of cumbia music pounding loudly from its stereo made me ignore the fact.
I was wearing a casual shirt with torn shorts, because my boyfriend didn’t allow me to be seen in bikini by others. As jealous as he was whenever someone even dared to give me a look, it was to be expected.
Yet, he couldn’t resist showing off his well-defined pectorals to any eye that was willing to see. He exuded an arrogant air, like that of a high school jock. But I could see through his absurd sense of confidence, knowing how much of a softie he actually was.
He was trying his best not to make it obvious that he was thoroughly inspecting my cleavage. But his wandering eyes gave him away quite easily. I sat then on his legs whilst he took me by the waist, hugging my body with the touch of his hands.
And off we went, moving alongside a wide road, singing and laughing with the rest. We said all kinds of nonsense that came to mind, taking in as many photographs as our Polaroid would let us. We liked to think of ourselves as very retro young adults.
At our arrival, a couple of our companions couldn’t resist plunging themselves right into the water. They didn’t mind wetting the clothes they were wearing. Although others, with a little more prudence, quickly changed to their swimsuits and took to swimming in a similar fashion. The rest of the company had to extend the tents, hang the hammocks and build the fireplace. Someone had to prepare the place for our sneaky summer getaway, after all.
But my boyfriend and I had different plans, managing to leave everyone behind for a private stroll.
We moved towards a secluded area, a few metres away from the main camping site. Taking me by the hand, we found ourselves blissfully walking along the seaside, marvelling at the beauty of the stars, the moon and the ocean.
It was then that he came to a sudden halt, taking him less than a couple of seconds to grab my waist to whirl me up in the air. Instinctively, I hung my legs around him and, taking his face in my hands, I kissed him, staining his mouth with my crimson lipstick.
We toyed afterwards with each other, with ample grins figuring all over our faces, until our bodies fell into the sand out of euphoric exhaustion. I rested my head on his chest as he stroked my hair, whispering to one another the most indecent of things. We savoured the moment together, tasting it with great romance and subtle promiscuity.
We got so lost within the soothing nature of our encounter that we failed to perceive the first few drops.
Initially, they fell languidly; timidly flirting with our skin. But those innocent caresses couldn’t deceive us, for we understood they indicated the approximation of rainfall.
I instinctively stood up, assuming we’d both go back with the rest. But he took me by the arm, requesting, “Stay a little longer.”
I looked at him somewhat puzzled, trying to understand his purpose. And as I did, I allowed for the sufficient hesitation to get myself soaked in a diffuse but copious rainfall. I couldn’t afford to go back any longer. I had to embrace my boy.
I remember I looked around, as we both remained under a palm tree, mesmerising myself with the magical dew that spread across the sand and the evergreens. Even the sea seemed to grow in beauty, with the moon shining to the horizon.
And I suddenly saw him.
He had been staring at me with his luminous blue eyes and characteristic smile whilst his pretty face melted in water. The moment seemed so precious to me, and I had no choice but to admit out loud, “I feel marvelled by everything I see.”
And that’s how he gifted me with one of his kisses.
He brushed my lips with great delicacy, gently spreading his essence and reminding me just how much he loved to steal my breath. All the meanwhile his hands, so imprudent, graced my skin with each one of his touches. The rain baptised our bodies, and we felt the great amount of burning passion that ran through our blood.
It was not until he left my mouth for a moment that he quietly decided to say, “You’re everything I’ve always wanted”, only to seize me once again in a more intimate physical contact.
All I knew then and all I know now is that I was happy to give in to such a feeling.