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This time he wasn’t gentle. He slid his cock into me and begin to slam away. I knew that he was ready to cum and I began to back onto him. Each time his pelvis impacted my buttocks I could feel my flesh ripple up my back. He had both of my tits in his hands, squeezing and pinching at my nipples as he had seen me doing to myself just minutes before.Just as I began to feel my orgasm begin to build yet again, his pace slowed and he began to drive into me deeply, burying his cock, withdrawing and then returning it to my depths. His groans and grunts had an animalistic quality as I felt him spasming inside of me. He leaned down and gently stroked my back with his fingertips.He withdrew and I turned, first gazing at the prodigious bubble of semen dangling from the tip of the condom on his dick and then smiling up at him. He leaned down and we again kissed, this time more gently, but still passionately. He collapsed on the couch next to me, his cock softening as I draped a leg over his and. The fresh fruit, however, was among the best I had ever tasted – especially the mango. I ended up eating mostly mangoes and muffins, although I did try many of the other choices. Remembering Felicita, I was careful to limit my waste. As I ate, I watched the fishermen heading out to sea, to the Gulf Stream for the day’s work. Mariel (home of the Mariel Boatlift) was only a few miles west of where I was sitting. I thought of all the people who put their lives at great risk to try to escape the tyranny of Fidel Castro. There I was, sneaking in at almost the same place they snuck out. After breakfast, I checked my watch and saw I had a little time before I could meet my girl at the taxi stand. I walked up the stairs to the lobby and out onto the veranda at the back of the hotel. The early morning air coming in off the harbor was surprisingly cool. I could almost have worn a jacket, in spite of the latitude. I bought a morning paper from the stand that sold postcards. It was the Granma, a.
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