Havana Heat

We were on a last-ditch trip to Havana to try to save our marriage. The humidity hit us the minute the passengers stopped applauding the landing and the air crew opened the plane's door — heat, sun, salt air. Our mood improved and by the time we got to the grand old hotel, with its cast iron chandeliers, winding staircase, cracked but still elegant marble it felt as if we were in a Graham Green novel.

The damp-stained paint, noisy plumbing and lumpy mattress couldn't dampen the romance of the room — or our ardour. The thin, icy air of Calgary and the easy oil money that had ruined our marriage was a continent away. We ripped off each other's clothes and fucked ourselves silly.

A couple of days later, the novelty had worn off, though we'd already had more and better sex together than we had for years. We ordered a taxi for a tour of the Malecon, Havana's gorgeous waterfront drive, and planned a dinner at a little bodega serving local seafood with a huge helping of extra-hot Cuban salsa music.

The concierge got us a driver named Tico, who showed up in a beautifully painted baby-blue and white '57 Chev Bel Air. We piled in beside Tico, with Donata in the middle.

She was on the cusp of 50, but most days could pass for a slim woman in her thirties. Today especially. She was wearing a halter top with a slight v-neck and one of those gathers between her breasts that drove me wild because it meant she didn't need a bra. Its colour complemented her shoulder-length auburn hair and dark eyebrows, and showed off the freckles across her nose that ran teasingly down to the yellow fabric stretched across her breasts. A mid-thigh madras checked skirt and sandals completed the outfit. No question about it, Nata was hot.

But we'd been bickering over lunch, one of those goofy spats that held the possibility of turning into raunchy make-up sex or a serious fight. She was laughing, and joking with Tico because he was wearing an elegant white Cuban guayabera shirt over skin-tight swimming trunks.

I laughed and joked that I bet she'd like to pick up a handsome young Cuban and fuck him in the Chevy's wide leather back seat while we drove. A flush rose up her neck from the V of her top toward her face, but I realized it wasn't anger: never one to pass up a dare, she was going to do it. Her jutting nipples were hard little pebbles that cast shadows on the stretchy yellow fabric of her top.

Tico picked up the thread of the conversation very quickly, and slowed down as we cruised along the Malecon. "That one!" Nata cried out suddenly. Tico wheeled the big Chev around in a U-turn and jumped out to talk to a tall, thin man of perhaps thirty-five, with dark, burnt-toast skin. He was very handsome.

As soon as we stopped, Nata jumped over the seat into the back. After a minute or so, the man grinned and got in the rear door as Tico resumed his place behind the wheel and pulled us out into the traffic. I saw him discretely adjust the angle of his rear-view mirror.

Nata pulled up the man's shirt and admired his flat, muscular belly. Suddenly she lay back on the long bench and slid her skirt up around her waist and yanked her flimsy panties to one side, giving us all a view of her luxurious, fiery red bush.

The man unbuttoned his pants, pulled them down his thighs and exposed a long, dark, very hard penis standing up at a forty-five-degree angle. Not as thick as mine, but a good two inches longer, I guessed. Slowly leaning forward over her, he poised the tip at her swollen pussy lips. Nata gasped: she was so wet his erection slid in all the way to the hilt at his first shove.

She writhed and arched her back as he pumped in and out like a steam engine gathering speed. Little cries came from her lips and grins and grimaces chased each other across her face. When he slowed to catch his breath, Nata rolled him to one side and climbed on top, giving Tico and me a better view. Her pussy clamped tightly around his long, curved erection with wisps of damp, red hair peeking out around it. The dark skin glistened with her juices as she rocked back and forth.

Suddenly she reached up to the roof of the car, and pushed her tight ass down as hard as she could on top of him, squealing repeatedly as she shuddered in a wave of climaxes. He joined her, his balls jumping in his scrotum as he unloaded spasm after spasm into her.

They lay side by side for a few minutes catching their breath, then Tico pulled over and our passenger got out, discretely buttoning his pants over his now limp penis and empty balls. He smiled and blew a kiss to Nata, who was lying back with a beatific smile and a rivulet of semen dribbling out of her pussy.

Tico put the car in gear, but looked at me with a questioning, perhaps pleading, look in his eyes. I looked down and saw the front of his swimming trunks was swollen to bursting. I nodded and we drove for a block or two, then Tico pulled the car into a shady alley just wide enough to open the door. He got out, then into the back seat.

Nata smiled more broadly, then reached up and pulled down his trunks, revealing a dark hard-on with a purplish head that was quite short, but easily as thick as my clenched fist. Tico gently hooked an elbow under each of her knees, then pushed them back towards her shoulders and spread her legs and cunt wide. She reached down, touched her pussy and moistened his broad member with her juices mixed with the dark man's semen.

She groaned as Tico's short, huge cock pushed into her.

He banged his hips hard against her and she groaned with pleasure again and again. After what seemed like half an hour of fucking, he reached down with one beautifully manicured hand and slid his thumb into her tight ass to the first joint. She jerked, but it sent her over the top. She wiggled her hips left and right, impaled in both orifices, and screamed with pleasure as he pumped one last time and roared as his sperm gushed into her.

Watching, I almost spurted in my pants.

After catching his breath, pulling up his trunks and buttoning his shirt, Tico became the perfect taxi driver once more.

Back at the hotel, he handed Nata a colourful beach towel to wrap around her semen-soaked skirt, and used an older one to clean up the back seat. I gave him a half-month's pay for a Cuban, and asked him to wait for me.

Nata and I repaired to the long bar, its lazy ceiling fans cooling her shining skin as we ordered. Our mojitos came — real ones, a handful of mint leaves muddled with quartered limes and sugar, then a healthy shot of amber rum. The bartender threw in a coupe of ice cubes and a splash of soda. He set out a plate of oysters on shaved ice with a bottle of his own hot sauce. I would need them.

The sun set as I toasted Nata's afternoon. She grinned at me.

The old elevator creaked and shuddered as we went upstairs, and I saw her nipples harden again. In the room, she dropped the towel, pulled her top over her head — it gave an audible snap as it reluctantly slid over her small, shapely breasts — and sat leaning back on the cracked leather couch. Her skirt slid up as she sat, her red cunt hair glowing in the wan lamplight as she pulled the remnants of her shredded panties off and started to rub her pink, protruding clit.

I shrugged off my clothes and held my rigid cock at her eye level, teasing her as I looked at her bruised thighs and swollen pussy lips. Her cunt was dripping wet.

Kneeling in front of her, I thrust into her furnace-hot pussy. I think I lasted only five strokes before I felt the come surging from my balls and pulled out, watching my semen spurt over her cunt hair and mix with her two earlier loads. She was fingering herself furiously and when she felt the warm, pearly drops she gave the little whimpering cry which signalled her climax.

Still smiling, she slid over sideways. I lifted her legs onto the couch. She was already asleep.

I showered languidly, dressed in fresh clothes, and went downstairs to find Tico standing beside his beautiful Bel Air, contentedly smoking a thin Cohiba. He handed me one, lit it for me, and motioned me in.

I didn't ask where we were going. It was enough to savour the hot, night air.

After about twenty minutes of driving, we arrived at a small apartment building. The exterior was shabby but I could see the small lobby was tidy and the floors had recently been mopped. Tico motioned me through the door.

I was met by a beautiful woman of indeterminate age. She introduced herself as Graciela. She wore an ankle-length navy blue shift that emphasized more than it hid her mature but still youthful curves: large pendulous breasts, narrow waist, strong hips, round buttocks. Her low heels made everything sway seductively as she walked ahead of me, and I was quickly realized that shift was all she had on. A scent of bougainvillea perfume wafted tantalizingly behind her.

Up a flight of stairs, Graciela's apartment was simple but welcoming, neat and feminine. I think I saw a framed medical degree in the darkened hallway on the way to her comfortable sitting room. We chatted as she made me feel comfortable and served us each a snifter of aromatic aged rum.

Later she seduced me. I stroked her long, dark hair, caressed her magnificent brown-tipped breasts, then twined my fingers in the soft black tendrils over her warm cunt. She nibbled me gently all over and before the sun came up, she'd coaxed another three orgasms out of this old body. I might as well have been in heaven.

Post Script

Nata and I have been divorced for five years. Friends tell me she flies to Cuba a couple of times a year, and always comes back tanned and happy.

I go regularly too, visiting Graciela. Sometimes I think I might retire there, recording some of her musician friends with the high-end video equipment that has become my hobby. I always have an amazing time. But I'll never forget that day with Nata ...