San Juan Samba

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Turn up the salsa and let's dance.
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What happens in Puerto Rico, stays in Puerto Rico. That was always the understanding for our quarterly business trip to the Island. Unfortunately for me, in the dozen or so times I had traveled to the tropical oasis, nothing worthy of keeping secret had ever occurred.

"What should I pack," I debated, as I wrestled with whether or not I could cram enough clothes into a carry-on bag to avoid the incredibly slow baggage claim process in San Juan.

Two days of business; that was easy to plan for. A couple of Polo shirts and a matching pair of casual pants and I was good to go for the business side of the trip. No ties, no jackets, and heaven forbid no suites were required in the laid back casual atmosphere of business meetings conducted within a stones throw of the equator.

Like most of my trips to the Caribbean, I had planned to tack an extra day on the end of the trip for a day of sun and fun. My business meetings were scheduled for Wednesday and Thursday, which left me with all day Friday for some quality "me" time before heading back to the frigid Midwest in the middle of a cold and snowy January. Friday night in San Juan, what should I pack?

When I first started traveling to Puerto Rico, my hotel of choice was always the Ritz Carlton in Isla Verde. Like all Ritz's, the San Juan version of the five star extravaganza was as plush and as inviting as any hotel in the world, but I had recently changed my preferred hotel to the El San Juan as the atmosphere there catered more to the frivolous and fun crowd versus the wealthy and sometimes stuffy crowd that called the Ritz their home away from home.

Beginning on Thursday night and continuing through the weekend, the El San Juan was always hopping. The sounds and reputation of the live local band playing salsa music into the wee hours of the morning never failed to attract a large crowd of both locals and visitors to the party atmosphere of the extravagant hotel lobby.

Friday night at the El San Juan meant I had to pack something casual, yet fashionable. The locals would be dressed in their best club attire. The guys would all look like they were competing for the cover spot on the next edition of GQ and the beautiful Puerto Rican ladies would be equally as fashionable in their tiny, sexy, dancing dresses. Blue jeans and polo shirts would get me some second looks, but not the kind of second looks that might change my luck from the 0-12 dry spell I had experienced during my previous trips.

Condoms, that was always the other dilemma. Do I pack some, just in case, or do I accept the fact that my 0 and 12 streak will most likely go to 0 and 13? The first several times I traveled to the Island I always packed them, just in case. The last few times I figured maybe my chances were better to get lucky if I was unprepared, convincing myself that the presumptuous pre-planning had jinxed my chances on the previous trips.

A quick look into the nightstand beside my bed brought the prophylactic dilemma to a rapid closure. There was only one remaining foil wrapper in the box that once contained a full dozen pouches of the most sensitive and shear latex known to mankind. One would do me no good. If I got lucky enough to find a sexy Puerto Rican lady who wanted to do a little salsa dancing between the sheets, one condom would only be enough to get the party started. On the other hand, if my luck was the same as it had been during my previous trips, one condom would be one too many.

No problem. Finding some latex protection on the island is about as difficult as finding sand on the beach. Within a block of the El San Juan are at least two shops that I vividly remember, one called "Condom World" and the second one appropriately named, "Condoms R Us". No need for me to make a stop at CVS on my way to the airport, I could simply stop in the 24 hour shop and do my shopping right there in San Juan, assuming the need for such merchandise would actually materialize.

You have to love a place like Puerto Rico. It is a highly Catholic, highly religious culture, that somewhere along the line failed to properly translate those commandments about adultery and coveting thy neighbor's wife into the Spanish language. Such an openly sexual atmosphere on a tropical island where the women are both beautiful and scantly clad -- you just have to love it!

I was finally finished packing. Business casual clothes for day one and day two on the top of the pile, a swimsuit for the daytime activities of day three and some casual drinking and dancing attire for the evenings in San Juan. It was time to head to the airport.

Like most of my trips to the island, I would not be traveling alone on this adventure. Nicole was a business colleague who had made this trip with me several times in the past as the meetings in Puerto Rico always seemed to involve topics we were mutually involved with. Nicole was a blast to travel with. If there was ever someone who deserved the title of the ultimate party girl, that would be Nicole.

Despite her partying nature and incredibly flirtatious personality, I had learned long ago that Nicole was happily married. Correction, Nicole was blissfully happily married, and had absolutely no desires to step across that fragile line called fidelity. Such a shame too. Nicole is incredibly sexy with her long blond curls, those brilliant blue eyes, and a pair of legs that go on forever. On more than one trip to the Caribbean, Nicole had been successful in getting quite a rise out of me just watching her walk out to the pool in her skimpy two piece swimsuit.

"Hey Big Fella," Nicole whispered in my ear as she snuck up behind me at Gate B6 where our plane was scheduled to depart.

"We're headed to a tropical paradise. Why the hell are you wearing a winter coat," she teased, as I turned around to greet her.

In typical fashion, Nicole was dressed for the occasion. No coat and no hint of the winter attire that would have been appropriate for the snowy twenty degree temperatures just outside of the terminal. High heels, a short skirt, and a spaghetti strap camisole that left just a hint of her midriff exposed but left much less to the imagination on the cleavage side of the equation. Damn she was hot!

As we settled into our seats, I quickly came to the realization that this was going to be a long and very uncomfortable flight for me. The seats were great: first class upgrades. The service was great as well, evidenced by the glass of Champaign in my hand before the coach section of the plane even started boarding. There was only one problem. Nicole was sitting just a few inches away from me with her long sexy legs proudly displayed and her short skirt riding high up on her thighs as she brought one knee over the other and crossed her legs to get comfortable.

Instantaneous erection. Nicole was a self proclaimed fitness freak and those long beauties were perfectly toned and shaped. As my mind quickly wandered to thoughts of what might lie still hidden beneath that tiny black skirt, there was absolutely no possibility of avoiding the sudden rush of blood to my groin and the impending reaction that invariably followed.

"You like my skirt?" Nicole flirted, in her typical teasing fashion as she lifted the lacy hem of the skirt a good two inches off her thigh.

I was busted. I'm not sure if it was the deer in the headlight look in my eyes from being mesmerized by those sexy legs that she noticed, or if she noticed the bulge in my pants. Maybe I was even drooling and didn't know it, but whatever the giveaway was, she had caught me in a lustful stare.

"Yu yu yu Yes," I stammered, as I tried to regain my composure. "And the legs aren't so bad either," I added.

"Well Brian," she winked, as she put her left hand on my thigh less than a millimeter from my straining cock and placed her right index finger against my closed lips. "You can look all you want Dream Boy, but if you're thinking today might be the day you join me as a member of the Mile High Club, dream on."

I already knew that, and there was no reason to try any harder on my part. We had been here many, many times before. Nicole knew exactly how to tease and torment me and I knew exactly how it was going to end. Like dozens, maybe even hundreds of times before, it was going to end with a smile on her face from the validation that she could still turn on any man she wanted with her looks and her charm, and it would end with a pain in my balls from a four hour flight with a hard on that I couldn't relieve. Some things never change.

We didn't arrive in San Juan until almost midnight Tuesday night. Between the long flight and the late hour, Nicole and I both decided to call it a night as soon as we arrived at the El San Juan.

Wednesday was a typical business day. We had originally planned for a business dinner Wednesday evening with some of the staff from the Puerto Rico office, but the plans fell through at the last minute and Nicole and I were on our own for the evening.

We opted for dinner at the open air restraint on top of the El San Juan Hotel, thinking that we could retire to the lobby after dinner for some drinks, music and a little salsa dancing. The El San Juan had a reputation as one of the best bar and dance scenes in the city, and since we were staying there anyway, why not check it out.

By eleven o'clock we had consumed several beers waiting for the excitement in the bar to pick up, but it never did. I finally asked the bar tender why it was so quiet.

"It's Wednesday night," Miguel informed me, as he slid another Medalla my direction and responded to the question I had posed. "This is pretty typical for a Wednesday night," he added. "Thursday and Friday nights are the big party nights in San Juan."

"In that case," Nicole sighed, "I say we call it a day and rest up for tomorrow night."

When we arrived at the office Thursday morning, we were greeted with the normal hugs and kisses that accompany the Puerto Rican culture.

"Did you do anything exciting last night," quizzed Liana, as we broke from a friendly hug.

Liana is the Human Resource manager for the Puerto Rico office and one of the people both Nicole and I typically meet with when we are on the island.

"We just hung around the hotel," I answered. "Things were pretty quiet in San Juan last night."

"I wish you would have called me," Liana frowned. "I would have been happy to show you the hot spots of town."

"How about tonight," Nicole jumped in, before I even had a chance to think about a response to Liana's comment.

Like Nicole, Liana is an incredibly sexy lady, although the two of them could not be any more different. Nicole is your typical tall, sexy, blue eyed blond. Liana on the other hand can't be more than five feet tall with dark eyes and dark hair that perfectly accent her bronzed skin. Two ladies distinctly different in their appearance, but equally attractive.

If I had jumped in with a reply as fast as Nicole had when Liana expressed her disappointment that we had not called her last night, Nicole would probably have given me her "You pervert" look and shook her head from side to side in disgust. The fact that she had been the one to suggest it, who was I to complain?

Liana met Nicole and I at in the hotel lobby at 7:00 o'clock as we prepared for our personalized tour of the hotspots in San Juan.

"Nothing really starts to heat up until about 9:00," Liana informed us, as we headed out of the hotel entrance and into the balmy evening air. "So let's head into Old San Juan for some dinner and drinks before we hit the dance clubs."

With none of us wanting to play the role of designated driver, we hopped in a cab and headed for Old San Juan. I was lucky enough to get the middle spot, snuggled tightly between Liana and Nicole in the narrow back seat of the cab. OK, maybe it was planned and not just luck on my part, and I'm sure the ladies knew what I was doing, but neither seemed to mind.

Liana was first in the car and already had her sexy legs crossed with her short red skirt riding high on her toned bronze thighs when I slid in beside her. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure my erection was at least at half mast, if not at full alert, before my butt even hit the seat. What an incredible sight, Liana sitting with her legs crossed, her skirt hiked up, and a tiny spaghetti strap top that proudly displayed a perfect set of 36c morocco's.

My eyes quickly shifted to Nicole as she climbed into the rear seat beside me. As her left leg entered the car, her tight black mini skirt stretched between her parted legs and slithered up her thigh giving me a clear and unobstructed view of the tiny triangle patch of fabric of her matching black thong. A thong that was sheer enough to clearly tell that there was no fuzz on this particular Georgia peach.

The contrast between Nicole's fair white skin and the black satin fabric showcased her long, sexy legs and highlighted just how well toned this beauty really was. As she slid the rest of the way into the cab, my eyes stayed fixed on her legs as both the lump in my throat and the lump in my boxers became more prominent. Nicole reached for the hem of her skirt with her right hand to pull it down from its panty exposing elevation and at the same time put her left index finger under my chin and raised my head away from its transfixed stare on her lower extremities. I was busted once again.

"Watch this guy," Nicole warned Liana, as she put her hand on my thigh, stretching my pants tight over my hardened cock in an unavoidable display of my state of arousal. "He may look harmless, but he's always packing a loaded gun," she laughed as she dropped her eyes to my crotch making sure Liana's eyes followed her own until all four retinas were focused on the bulge in my pants.

The girls continued to poke fun at me, and my aroused condition, as the cab embarked on the twenty minute excursion to Old San Juan.

By the time dinner was over, we had already consumed our second bottle of wine and were feeling pretty buzzed. We headed for a local place called "The Parrot Club" to see if the live music and dancing was starting to heat up yet. Sure enough, the crowd was already gathering, the Latin salsa music was blaring, and the dance floor was about half full of sexy Puerto Rican ladies and their fluid Latino dance partners.

As we headed toward an empty table, Liana grabbed Nicole by the hand and headed for the dance floor. Twenty seconds later the two sexy ladies were dirty dancing salsa style center stage on the dance floor. What a sight. Tall, blonde Nicole was pressed flesh to flesh against the smaller but equally sexy Liana as they danced and gyrated to the music. If I didn't know Nicole was happily married, I would have sworn at that moment that she was a lesbian and having the time of her life with her lover.

After three or four songs, the girls came back to the table and pulled me out onto the floor. Luckily it was dark enough in the club that no one could see the bulge in my pants as we made our way to the center of the floor. When we reached center stage, Nicole wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me tight against her gyrating, music inspired body.

After a quick hug, Nicole slid her hands from my neck to my hips, taking special care to seductively slide them along my spine on their journey southward. Our bodies meshed and moved together as one. We were so close I could feel the hardness of her nipples pressed against my own chest, and so close that there would be no avoiding her recognition of the hardness of my arousal pressed firmly into her forbidden pubic bone.

"Come on big boy," she laughed, as put a hand on each side of my hips and pulled me hard against her groin as she gyrated those size six hips in perfect unison with the festive salsa music.

"Prove to me that white boys can dance," she screamed, to the cheers and catcalls of the Latino crowd circled around us.

As my own hips began moving to the beat of the music and responding to the motion of the beautiful torso pressed against them, I felt Liana snuggle up behind me and press her body against my back side. As the three of us swayed, moved, and gyrated to the music, I was blissfully sandwiched between the firmness of these two lovely lasses. Liana's hands roamed over my hips and shoulders as she pressed her tits against my back trying not to be outdone by Nicole who continued her relentless tormenting of my front side.

After four or five dances, I had to sit down. Between the heat from the lights in the club, and the inferno of lust burning within me, my body was overheating and in need of a cold beer. These ladies really knew how to torment and tease a guy to the peak of sexual frustration.

"You are one lucky son-of-a-bitch," the waiter spoke in broken English, as he put the beer on the table and stared wantonly at Liana and Nicole still dancing closely just a few feet away. "If they fuck as good as they dance, you are one blessed hombre."

Wishful thinking. I knew that despite the teasing and flirting, Nicole would never cross that line. As for Liana, as much as she seemed to like flirting with me, it was obvious that she liked flirting and dancing with Nicole even more. I wasn't sure if Nicole would actually cross the line with Liana, somehow that seemed less like cheating than with another man. I thing was for certain though, it was a fairly safe bet that the only sexual action I was going to get that night would be self induced back in my lonely hotel room.

We spent another hour at The Parrott and then headed back to the El San Juan where the party was even bigger and the crowd even livelier. My balls were aching from two hours of a constant up and down erection resulting from the non-stop teasing the ladies were administering. My clothes were sweaty and messed from all of the dancing, and my muscles tired and out of shape, but despite all of that, I couldn't wait to get back onto the dance floor for more abuse.

When the band started to pack up at 2:00 am, the crowd quickly disseminated and the three of us found ourselves nearly alone in the lobby.

"Well," Nicole sighed in a somewhat disappointed tone. "I have to catch a flight in five hours, so I suppose I should be calling it a night."

"What time is your flight Brian?" Liana inquired, as we lingered in the lobby for a few minutes longer.

"Actually, I'm staying in San Juan tomorrow to catch a little sun and a little pool time and then I'm flying back on Saturday," I responded.

"Really," Liana brightened up. "So you are here another day. Would you care for some pool side company tomorrow?"

"Why don't you just stay with me tonight Liana," Nicole offered. "No need for you to go all the way home at this late hour if you are coming back in the morning anyway."

The girls didn't even wait for me to give them an answer as to whether or not I wanted some poolside company the following day. Before I could answer with the obvious, "YES", the girls were already headed arm in arm toward the elevator, giggling like two teenagers as they disappeared behind the closing steel doors.

Damn, I was headed back to my room with only my right hand to get excited about, and Liana was headed to Nicole's room to do God only knows what to that sexy body of hers. Between the pent up excitement in my balls from a long night of sexy dancing, and the unavoidable visions in my head of Nicole and Liana wrestling in a moaning frenzy of a sixty-nine entanglement, I only lasted about twenty strokes before my balls got the relief they had been desperately waiting for. It's a good thing I pointed at my chest before letting the liquid lust fly, otherwise, the maid would have been cleaning the ceiling the following morning.

I was at the pool by 9:00 o'clock on Friday morning, and Liana came strolling out about 10:00. Damn she looked hot. Her bright yellow string bikini perfectly displayed her well shaped bronze body. A pair of yellow rimmed sun glasses and matching yellow flip flops were the only other pieces of attire adorning her seductive body.

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