Panama Paradise
"Canal tour guide Mariela knows every inch of the Panama Canal, but when engineer Chris comes to study the locks, she shows him the real treasures are found beyond the waterways."
Chris had seen engineering marvels. Nothing prepared him for the Panama Canal.
Nothing prepared him for Mariela either.
She was thick and knowledgeable, explaining lock systems and ship movements with passion that made infrastructure sexy.
"Yuh understand now?" she asked after the tour.
"The canal, yes. You, not yet."
"Then yuh need more tours."
More tours meant private ones. After hours. Empty observation decks.
"The Americans built this," she said. "But Panamanians made it work."
"You're clearly the one making things work now."
"Yuh flirting?"
"I'm observing. You're remarkable."
"Keep observing."
Observation led to action. Her apartment overlooking the canal, ships passing while they discovered each other.
"I shouldn't do this," she said. "Professional distance."
"We're off the clock."
"Way off the clock." She kissed him. "Make it count."
Counting happened all night. That thick body a marvel of its own, every curve engineered for pleasure.
"Yes! Chris! Right there!"
The canal locks had nothing on the systems they created together.
"Don't stop! Open all the gates!"
His engineering report was excellent. His personal findings were better.
"Stay longer," she suggested.
"Stay forever?"
"The canal always needs engineers."
"And the guide?"
"She needs yuh too."
Chris transferred to Panama permanently.
Mariela still gives the best tours.
He watches from their apartment as ships pass.
Paradise found.
Engineered perfectly.
Together.