The Gyrating Flamenco

It was a hot, sultry night in Havana. Rosita just arrived for her much needed vacation. Rosita was born in Brazil, but later emigrated to the States with her mother, father and younger sister. She was always considered bellisima, even as a little girl. With puberty came full, succulent, heaving breasts, perfectly aligned cleavage, round butt cheeks to match, connected by a slender, yet athletic midsection. Her legs continued forever. . .upon grazing her thigh and moving ever so slightly downward, if one even made it past her knees, her perfectly curved, smooth, delicate feet would be discovered. Now, a young 27 year old, is an accountant in a small firm on the west coast. But in Havana, the only numbers on her mind are those of the local guapissimos to ease her burning desire. She hasn't found a man since moving to the States. . .not a real man at least. She desired a man who could be rough, yet place the gentlest kisses upon her erect bosoms and beautifully bronzed body. She needed a man who could handle her beauty and knew the proper way of releasing the inner Rosita erotica.

Her café brown hair brushed off her face as a gentle breeze became aroused by being lucky enough to touch Rosita's perfect body. She stood on the side of a busy road, dressed in a light, fire red dress. Her bosoms trying to push through what little fabric there was to get air and try to escape the blistering heat. The only relief for her mesmerizing cleavage were the tiny beads of sweat slowly sliding down from her neck. At the bottom of Rosita's long, youthful legs were a pair of matching stilettos which wrapped around to the mid part of her calf and tied ever so carefully with a perfect bow. Her plump, red lips could be seen for miles. She looked like she was wearing lingerie and was about to perform her scandalous routine at the local club.

Upon entering, sporadically placed fans provided some relief for her suffocating bosoms. The bar was to the left of her, to the right; a lounge area full of visiting gringos and straight ahead: the dance floor complete with gyrating bodies, sounds of groaning over the local Spanish music and hormones raging. The girls were barely covered, some straps being ripped off by their dancing partners, while the men began to strip as the temperature on the dance floor rose. Rosita entered the sex scene energized, but somewhat apprehensive. A local Cuban, Manuelo, upon spotting her sensual lips and burning breasts which by this time had nearly attained freedom from their captive fabric and her hard, erect nipples were staring back into Manuelo's chocolate brown eyes. He was a few inches taller than Rosita, about 6'1, and had the physique of a mortal Zeus. Grabbing Rosita by the small of her back, they began dancing in complete unison. Each song was danced more passionately than the other until it was almost as if they were the only ones on the dance floor. In Manuelo's tight embrace, Rosita's loins burned with ecstasy. It didn't take long for Rosita to end up in a dark corner of the nightclub.

The darkness hid the scandalous acts that were about to occur. Manuelo pushed Rosita's body into his as he threw his back against the cool cinder block wall. Sliding his hand down Rosita's legs, grazing her thighs, squeezing her calfs, he ripped off the laces of the stiletto in one forceful pull, sending the once perfect bow into chaos. Applying the same force to her other leg, both stilettos came off nearly in fright. Now to release Rosita's supple, hot and steamy breasts. Ripping off what some might consider a dress, her breasts were throbbing, erecting its nipples at its freer in an effort to bring him closer for a proper thank you. Smelling Rosita's rose-like scent, Manuelo's tongue became enchanted leading Manuelo's face and the rest of his body onto the gracious nipples. He bagan sucking her tits as if he were a child trying to get the last bit of milk. Rosita could only moan with ecstasy and heave his head deeper into her flesh. By now Rosita's cunt became wet with ecstasy and her personal lubricant began sliding down her slender thighs. She quickly took action. Grabbing Manuelo's white see-through cotton pants, she ripped them off in a vicious sexual mood. Grabbing his balls with her teeth and feeling her way up the shaft with her tongue, she began heaving and fucking his hard, upright cock with her mouth.

In response, Manuelo grabbed her body, threw her on the cool concrete floor and penetrated Rosita like no man had ever penetrated her before. Her groans mixed with those on the dance floor, only this moaning was as pure as the moonlight and could be heard for miles. Manuelo placed the gentlest kisses upon her body. So gentle that for a moment she believed herself to be naked on a beach, being kissed by the mist of the ocean.

Being slapped back into reality, Rosita grabbed Manuelo's ass as she climaxed. Upon exiting her welcoming, wet pussy, Rosita came to a realization. After all of these years, she found it. She found what she was looking for. Her man who was rough, yet gentle. Someone who truly knew how to appreciate her beauty and in return was shown her inner sexuality to be teased, seduced and manipulated as her controller wanted.