Havana Club Ch. 01

"I need to pee, but I don't want to get up."

"I'll help you," I offered.

"Ordinarily, I'd be too embarrassed to accept, but I don't think I can make it there without your help."

I helped her into a sitting position on the side of the bed, then helped her stand, supporting her with my arm around her waist and her arm around my shoulder. Together, we shuffled to the bathroom. I eased her onto the toilet seat. I turned to leave.

"Stay," she said. "You've come this far with me. I don't have any more secrets."

We both smiled. I leaned against the lavatory, the porcelain feeling cold against my bare butt. She looked at me as she peed. When she was done, I helped her back to bed.

She spoke. "I am going to be so sore tomorrow. Stay here with me. We'll both call in sick and spend the day in bed."

"I can't," I told her. "I have an important meeting tomorrow that I can't miss." She pouted. "I really can't miss it. Sorry."

"OK," she said as her pout softened. "Then come back tomorrow night."

"You're already sore. I'll do real damage."

"No, you won't. I'll just walk funny tomorrow, then I'll call in sick the next day to rest."

"I'll spend the night. Maybe you'll be up to another time in the morning."

"You can have me now, but you'll have to do all the work. I'm worn out."

"That's alright. Rest now. Maybe I'll wake you up during the night." With that, I got up and blew out the candles. In the darkness, I pulled the covers over her and crawled into bed next to her. "I'm tired, too. Later, we'll do it again."

We were both asleep in minutes.

It was early morning when I woke. She was still face down next to me, breathing deeply in the sleep of the fully sated. The sun had not yet risen. I had a morning erection and I wanted to use it. I felt a little guilty because I knew her pussy would be sore after last night's marathon session, but notthat guilty. I pulled back the covers and gently rolled Ellen over until she was on her back, then spread her legs. She looked so inviting, even though she was unconscious. I slid one, then two fingers into her. She was very wet, lubricated from the mixture of her juices and my sperm. I leaned forward and tasted her pussy. When my tongue passed over her clit, she gave a slight moan, but it didn't disturb her sleep. I grinned, thinking about what I was going to do. I crawled over her, supporting myself on my arms and positioned my dick at the entrance of her pussy. I used one hand to guide the head into her and very slowly worked my way inside. I was fully seated and she was still asleep. This felt so naughty, like I was stealing something from her. I wanted to just stay there, inside her for a while and watch her sleep, but instincts got the best of me. My dick was hard and inside a warm, wet pussy. I started thrusting and managed to keep it slow and gentle. My eyes were fully adapted to the darkness so I could just make out her face from the glow of the clock. After about five strokes, she started to stir. It was fascinating watching the feeling of pleasure cross her face, mixed with confusion. She must have been unsure if it was a very vivid dream, or she was really being fucked. Her eyes remained closed as she moaned louder, accompanied by a movement of her legs. It was like she was positioning herself to intensify the pleasure of the penetration. Then, realization hit and she opened her eyes. She tried to focus, then reached out and touched my face. Recognition showed on her face as she smiled.

"Wow, what a way to wake up," she said very quietly, very softly.

"I was worried you were still sore, but I couldn't resist your naked body," I confessed.

"I'm not too sore for this," she said, squeezing her pussy muscles around my cock for emphasis. Then, she squinted. "Ow. Maybe I'm alittle sore." Barely able to see my concerned expression, she continued, "I'm OK, we just need to take it slower than last night."

"Yeah, last night was wild. I'm surprised your neighbors didn't complain."

"Me, too." She giggled.

That was the extent of the talking as we now concentrated on fucking. It was a slow, gentle fuck. The feeling of her skin, the look of her face (what I could see of it), her gentle breathing were all so sensual. We came together, joined at both ends, kissing as sperm was passed from one to the other. After, I pulled out and she hugged me. We fell asleep like that, our bodies wrapped around each other.

When I woke again, it was barely daylight and I knew I had to get up. I needed to shower and change before I went to work. She woke up as I was dressing.

"Don't go," she called, mournfully.

"I have to," I answered.

"Then come back tonight."

I thought about that. I was tempted to refuse. I thought about commitments. I also thought about my decision to not pass up opportunities. "OK, I'll be back tonight."

"And the next?" she asked.

"No, I have a business trip."

"Oh. Where are you going?" she innocently inquired.

"Cancun."

"Ooh, sounds nice. Can I come?"

"No, it really is business."

"Aw," she complained. "When will you be back?"

"Probably a week – if everything goes alright." Yeah,if.

"Well, we have to make tonight good enough to keep you satisfied for a week," she mused.

"If it's any better than last night, I'll be dead," I teased.

She smiled. By then, I was fully dressed. She got out of bed and hugged me. She followed me to the door, completely naked. I kissed her, a lingering kiss. Then I turned and opened the door. Just as I felt the chill of the morning air, she turned me around and kissed me again standing in the door.

"You're naked," I warned.

"It's OK. Almost no one is up this early. The worst I'll do is give some jogger a hardon." She gave me one more quick kiss, then waved goodbye as I walked to my car. I blew her a kiss as I buckled my seat belt. She closed the door as I drove away.

When I was getting in the shower at home, her juices drying on my dick reminded me of last night. I was going to miss Ellen - after tonight.

When I got to the office, I spent the day with Ross and William again. We were discussing what I needed to look for in Havana. This was full preparation for opening a branch. I needed to evaluate the business opportunities. I needed to scout locations for the office. I also had to try to look for office staff. This was difficult because I didn't know if we would open the office in weeks, months or a year or more. Either the U.S. would change its position about doing business with Castro's regime, or Castro would no longer be in power and a new government would be more palatable to our government. Either way, a change would necessitate rapid action. Once things changed, I could expect to be back in Cuba in days. The day flew by. Before I knew it, I was back at Ellen's apartment.

We decided to go out for dinner. It wasn't anything fancy, just a quiet meal together. After, we went back to her place. The sex was more subdued, in deference to her soreness. It was loving, tender. We enjoyed each other's bodies. The touches, the tastes, the smells were each savored. Finally, we joined. We made love a few short times instead of one long time. Each time, I pushed myself deep inside her to shoot my cum. I loved looking into her eyes as I came. Looking into her eyes as my body tried in vain to impregnate her added to the thrill. We finally fell asleep around midnight, with Ellen's legs wrapped around mine. The next morning, we made love again. I had brought along a change of clothes so we showered together before I left. I loved the feeling of our soap slicked bodies sliding against each other. We parted, both fully satisfied.

As I was driving to the office, I thought how (if things turned out badly) she might have given a last meal to a condemned man. She might be the last woman I would be with for a long, long time. At least I had superb memories to carry with me.

The last day at the office before my departure was spent going over the procedures for entry and exit. I had my ticket to Mexico. A credit card had arrived, concealed in a stack of papers in a FedEx envelope from our small Ontario office. One of the managers had opened a credit card account in my name. I held the Scotiabank card, its glossy red surface and gold printing glistening in the light. I hoped I didn't have to use it. It had a credit line of $5,000 and it was for emergencies if I needed more money. My credit cards were drawn on U.S. banks so they wouldn't be accepted in Cuba. I would also be carrying $2,000 in cash. I would be keeping in touch by telephone with our Ontario office. We had setup an elaborate code so I could appear to be making a routine call while I was in fact reporting on the progress of my mission. There was an awful lot of cloak and dagger to this trip. I kept trying to bury my nervousness.

My flight was early on Friday morning, so I left the office early Thursday afternoon to pack. Word had been leaked around the office that I was going down to Cancun for a week of checking on business conditions and contacts. A few people kidded me on my luck at landing such a sweet assignment. The time I spent hidden away making preparations kept them from seeing how nervous I was. Only the four of us who were in the meeting in Ross' office knew what was really going on, along with that one manager in Ontario who would be receiving my telephone calls. Agnes probably had an idea something else was afoot, but she was used to seeing things she couldn't talk about.

Following my instructions, I emptied my suitcase and checked the lining for anything that may have slipped in there. I needed to be sure of what was in the bag in case I was inspected in Havana. I decided to rely on casual clothes—shorts, jeans, polo shirts. I figured tropical colors would fit in better. I avoided t-shirts with printing. I certainly didn't want to call attention to my U.S. citizenship. I also went through my wallet, leaving behind most of its contents. I wasn't comfortable carrying so much cash, but travelers' cheques were useless where I was going. Once I got to Mexico, everything I did would be on a cash basis to avoid leaving a paper trail of evidence.

I didn't sleep well that night. I kept waking up. Finally, I got up and showered. I ate a small breakfast—I was too nervous to do more. I got my bags together. I wasn't bringing too much with me. At 4:30, I heard a knock on the door. The driver was there to take me to the airport. I took one last look around the house. I seriously wondered if I really would be back in a week. It was too late to worry now. I was on my way.

To Be Continued in

Chapter 2 – The Back of a T-Shirt

This story is Copyright © 2004 by Strickland83. All rights reserved.