The Cuban

by Kim Rodriguez

  “That you’re gay. All the guys think so. They say if you put on some eyeliner and mascara your eyes would be prettier than a girl’s.” She started cackling at the thought. “Luis said they’re going to hold you down one day and do it.”

  “Really?” I asked, turning to her. “Well, do me a favor and tell Luis I’d like to see him try, because after I kick his ass, I’ll take his mother up on her offer and fuck the shit out of her in every room of their house, starting with his.”

  “I’ll tell him,” she laughed. “I’d love to see that, but they know better, especially after last time. Such idiots.”

  I got up and tried my hardest not to look in the direction of Jacinta’s bare ass moving up and down on Samuel. “I’m going,” I said over my shoulder.

  “You alright?” I asked, leaning over Mateo. “You want to leave with me?”

  “No,” he said, coming out of his stupor a little. “I think I’m about to get lucky.”

  “Maybe,” I said, eyeing Patrizia. “But I wouldn’t call it lucky. Use a rubber.”

  I wasn’t even halfway out the door when I saw her straddle Mateo. She looked up, obviously not the least bit embarrassed to be acting like a common whore.

  “Hey,” said Patrizia. “I saw that picture in your locker. You like blondes. What if I dyed my hair like that Irma Truman?”

  “Who?” Then I realized who she meant. “That’s not who it is, and no thanks.”

  “My God, you’re so stuck up,” she laughed, unbuttoning Mateo’s pants. “Have fun jerking off by yourself, Rafa.”

  ***

  “Rafa?”

  It was Amada, bringing me back to a very welcome reality.

  “I’m close.” She tugged at my neck with both hands trying to pull me in closer.

  “Not yet, my queen.” Todavía no, mi reina.

  I stopped thrusting, rolled over on to my side and made sure we were both comfortable while I continued with manual stimulation. I pulled her head into my chest and slipped my hand between her legs, using long, lazy strokes just to keep her idling as we caught our breath for a few minutes in a quiet embrace. I wanted to make sure it was particularly good for her on our special night, but soon it became clear she was too far gone to keep at bay and wouldn’t settle down. It wasn’t long before she started to kiss and touch me all over, putting her hands on my face and kissing me with such hunger that I completely lost track of what I was doing and climbed back on top of her.

  “I’m on fire,” she gasped.

  “Another minute. You can do it.” I kissed her again, teasing her with the tip of my cock.

  “Don’t do that to me now. You’ll make me cry. I can’t take it,” she moaned, trying to move me.

  “No, baby, I know you need me inside you right away. You can’t stay still can you?” I was poised above her, trying to make her wait one last second or two.

  “I ache inside,” she whispered. “Rafa, I’m begging you.” When she started to shake, I nearly lost it.

  “I will, sweetheart,” I said, struggling to control my own body. “You’re going to come soon, but first I want to teach you something you’re going to like.” I entered her again, propping myself up on my arms to give her space. Her breath hitched and her hips relaxed and opened wide for me as if I’d managed to take the edge off by being inside her most of the way.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Squeeze me with your pussy as hard as you can. Don’t use your thighs, just the muscles you have inside. Do you understand?”

  She did it beautifully, and I tried to keep a neutral expression to see if she liked it, but when I saw her toss her head from side to side, I knew she was loving it, too.

  “That’s it. Hold it for me as long as you can.”

  “Why does that feel so good?” Amada panted and writhed like a woman possessed, and she licked my chest and nipples with an abandon that was so hot it was an absolute miracle I didn’t climax right then and there.

  “Because you’re making love to your husband’s cock from the inside.” I leaned in and barely grazed her lips with mine, being sure to use just the tip of my tongue to lick the outside of her mouth before leaning back into position. While she was still clenching around me, I slowly withdrew from her, astounded at how tight she could make herself. It was an exquisite, ethereal sensation that made me shiver.

  “Look at me, Amada.” I said. She tried to do as I asked but looked away and then back a few times, and as I searched her eyes, I felt such love that I found it difficult to continue talking. I resolved to teach her how to maintain eye contact during our lovemaking because I craved it with her like never before.

  “Now I want you to release those muscles and push out as I go in.” I slid back inside her at a snail’s pace, watching as she concentrated. “More, baby. Open up more, just for me.”

  “Like that?” she asked. It took her a minute to figure it out, but she got it.

  “Just like that, mamita. Do you feel what’s happening? Your pussy is opening for me on the way in, and milking me on the way out.”

  “God—” She threw her head back, uttering some words in English I didn’t understand. She gripped my arms tightly, digging in.

  “I know, me too.” It was by far the most intimate moment we’d ever shared, and I tried to etch every detail into my mind, knowing it was one of many we’d experience together over a lifetime.

  “Deeper, Rafa,” she said.

  “Not yet, sweetheart. Soon.” I gave her another peck on the lips and tried to keep my voice from trembling as I spoke to her, but I don’t think I quite managed. “Two more strokes. Squeeze tight on the first and open up for me on the second. We’re not going to last very long.”

  I lowered my body onto hers and withdrew slowly as she tightened up, exquisitely aware of her all around me. “Perfect, mamita. Oh, that’s so good.”

  “Now open,” I said, pushing in again. Approaching the end of her, I lowered my voice and gave her one last direction, even though I was drowning in pleasure myself. A little bead of sweat trickled through my hair at my temple and down the side of my face, then fell off me and landed on her chest.

  “Look at me,” I commanded. She obeyed, our eyes locked. “Contract your muscles right after I thrust, and that’s when you’re going to come, hard. Let your body do whatever it wants. It doesn’t matter what happens. Hold on to me and try to look in my eyes as long as you can. Ready?”

  I pushed myself up inside her as far as I could go, all at once. “I love you,” I said. Without further direction, she tightened up exactly as I told her to, and that was it.

  “Rafa!” she cried. She kept the eye contact longer than I expected, so I knew exactly when it hit her, and as she clutched me with her arms and legs and scratched at my back, she told me she loved me, too. I savored every second of her well-deserved orgasm right along with her.

  “That’s it, baby,” I whispered. Feeling the changes in her body as she climaxed was all it took to send me reeling with her, the familiar hot rush that coursed through me and completed in my wife a bliss like no other. Every cell in my body drove me to leave part of myself inside her, and when our eyes met again, I couldn’t help but think of how I’d like to see her full and round. To hell with it, maybe I would just pull that damn thing out. I rested my cheek on the top of her head and stayed in place, remaining inside her until I slipped out.

  Now completely spent, I rolled over expecting her to fall asleep on top of me, but before she allowed herself to drift off in my arms, my intelligent lover was overcome by curiosity.

  “Rafa, what was that? Why did it feel so good?”

  “I told you.” I smiled, thinking of what I’d said on the spur of the moment. “Isn’t my answer plausible?”

  “Come on,” she said. I didn’t want to ruin the mystery, but I knew she’d either get it from me or just go look it up.

  “It’s a technique called pompoir. You have quite a few muscles—specifically two major musc
le groups —that make up your pelvic floor. When you contract them, blood flows to the area, triggering all kinds of atypical sensations, and those are the same muscles that involuntarily contract when you have an orgasm, so when you do it yourself, it’s a very nice way of getting the process started for both of us. The stronger those muscles are, the more you can do, but yours are damn strong already.”

  I stopped short of discussing the less appealing advantages of a strong pelvic floor, because there are some things you don’t want to hear about in bed, no matter how curious you are about the human body. Besides, I was far too relaxed to keep talking. For the first time, all I wanted was to lie with her in silence, but when I realized my sweet girl had been quiet for a while, I looked down and tried to make out whether her eyes were open or closed.

  “Hey, are you still awake?”

  “Yes,” she said, snuggling up against me. She ran her fingertips along the ridges of my abdominal muscles, going over one particular spot a few times.

  “What’s this muscle called? I love it.”

  “Oh, do you? Good, but it’s not a muscle. It’s a ligament. El ligamento inguinal.”

  “One more thing,” she said, pulling the covers up to her chin, which I knew meant she was down for the count. “What’s the psychology behind the—the way you were talking to me? It was perfect.”

  “Forget it. I just went from sexual magician to science nerd in thirty seconds because you have to understand how everything works. I know when to do it, and when not to, and that’s all you need to know.” I rubbed her back, feeling heavy and lethargic. “Mystery, Amada.”

  “Fine.” She put her head on my chest and stretched her arm and leg across my body. Her voice began to drift off, and her breathing started to slow.

  “My husband,” she murmured.

  “Forever, mamita.” I kissed the top of her head, knowing I was the luckiest man in the world.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Amada and I had just welcomed Lidia, Oscar, Raquel and Carlos to Boxwood when she couldn’t keep it in a second longer and waved her left hand in the air.

  “Is that an engagement ring?” squealed Lidia, bringing Amada’s hand right up to her face.

  “Let me see!” said Raquel. “Look at that gorgeous rock! Congratulations you two!”

  “Come on, let’s text Silvia and Rogelio a photo!” said Lidia. “She’ll be beside herself she missed this.”

  After countless hugs and kisses, Oscar, Carlos and I went out to the lanai to smoke cigars while the women stayed inside to talk. It was dusk and we had about fifteen minutes before we had to leave for dinner.

  “Well done,” said Carlos, leaning back in his chair. Te la comiste. “Look at this view.” He was right. I never tired of looking at the bay that surrounded the house. I’d learned that it was such a great tool for meditation that I’d ordered several water features installed in the restaurant, which was coming along nicely.

  “Things are working out well,” said Oscar. Estas acabando. “Lidia really likes Amanda. They both do. She says they’re going to get into a lot of trouble together.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” I said, puffing on the Montecristo Carlos had brought over.

  “Speaking of trouble,” said Carlos, “I heard there was a problem the other night. Some man approached Amanda. What the hell happened?”

  “Yeah, I was going to tell you about that.” I flicked some ashes into the large glass ashtray on the table between us. “Have you ever heard of a man named Achille Desmarais?”

  They looked at each other and shook their heads. If anyone had a legal problem in Miami, they’d know about it, which meant Desmarais had to be based in Haiti. I told them how I’d found him cornering Amada in a dark hallway in the back of the restaurant and how he’d left the plant outside. Before I could even get the words out, they both agreed that the orchid had to have been black magic or brujería.

  “We brought him back to the office, and after I threatened to cut his balls off if he ever went near Amada again, he told me that he wanted to be my friend, and all he asked was that I allow him access to this kid I have working at Madrina’s now.”

  “What’s so special about him?” asked Oscar.

  “He’s been messed up on drugs for a long time. His father has tried every rehab in the country but it never works, so he brought him to me. I’ve got the kid cleaning toilets and meditating with me every day, but I can see he was in deep. He’s a tough case.”

  “Why does this Demarais need your permission to talk to the kid?”

  “Because his father is a congressman planning to run for president. He has two bodyguards that never leave his side.”

  “He’s worried his son is going to create a scandal,” observed Carlos.

  “Yes, but also because his dealer finds him wherever they send him. They don’t want anyone getting close to him.”

  “Is this who I think it is?” Oscar leaned in, fascinated.

  “Yes. Him.”

  “Oh, shit. He’s Cuban!”

  “That’s why he trusts us. That kid is my responsibility now and he’s going to get better. I told Demarais to fuck off and I kicked him out, but he didn’t seem too scared. Yet. We’re going to have to change that.”

  “What do you think Demarais wants?” asked Carlos. “To kidnap him for money?”

  “Well, he wouldn’t tell me, but I had Sandro ask around and it turns out Demarais is a very well-known drug dealer. He’s got to be the one feeding him the drugs, so he’s been playing the long game. Word is he wants to be the first to establish a direct route from Peru through Cuba to Miami, but he’s not the only one.” I took another puff of the Montecristo. “My hometown, Playa Larga would be the first city in Cuba on that route. It’s going to become another Medellin if this cocksucker has his way.”

  “But everyone knows you can’t get drugs through Cuba. Castro didn’t tolerate it.”

  “Well, the bastard is gone now, and things are going to change fast.” I took another puff. “You said it yourself, Oscar. It’s the Wild West.”

  “Demarais wants to trade the kid’s life for a politically sanctioned pass through Cuba,” observed Carlos. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Looks that way. Not to mention that Demarais is associated with one of the most notorious Voodoo practitioners in Port-Au-Prince. They say that’s how Desmarais’ family made their money, under the protection of a notorious priest named Agwe.”

  “They’re probably into that ass backward animal sacrifice,” said Carlos.

  “It’s not just animal sacrifice, from what Sandro tells me,” I said.

  “Listen Rafa, from the cases I’ve heard, I can tell you that some of the people who practice Voodoo here in Miami go away for doing some horrible things. Drugs. Human trafficking. Prostitution. Murder. The poverty they have over there leads to some seriously depraved shit. Hell, I don’t have to tell you, of all people. You have to be very careful.”

  “I know,” I said, thinking of Amada. I pointed to the guest house. “Sandro is going to turn it into a guard house and keep a couple of guys here day and night to watch over Amada.” I watched as Carlos and Oscar puffed on their Montecristos. “If Demarais tries to hurt her, I’m going to the electric chair because I will kill him.”

  “Take it easy and do what you have to do to protect your family,” said Oscar, patting my arm. “Don’t worry about anything like that.”

  ***

  On the way to the French restaurant we’d chosen for dinner, I had Oscar and Carlos follow me to Madrina’s so that I could check in and see how everything was going. I wanted to see the fountains that had been installed, the oils that were supposed to go up, and check on the remodeling of the back salon which would now be an oak paneled members-only area with cigar lockers and Chesterfield sofas. Most importantly, I wanted to check on the kid and make sure he was alright.

  I parked Amada’s Ferrari in the back because of the construction and debris along the front, which I was also c
hanging a little, mostly for security purposes. It was all costing just under a million dollars, but Kieran and the CPA he’d recommended assured me it was a good investment. I’d never dreamed of having the kind of net worth Doña Delfina left behind, but I still thought like a poor man. As far as I was concerned, the money could disappear as quickly as it came, so I wasn’t about to spend unwisely on anything.

  “Rafa, everything looks great out here already,” said Amada. “I love the new entrance! The big double doors in the front look so much better than the little side door.” My sweet girl had worn red again for me tonight, which I appreciated very much. The high slit up the side of her dress was driving me mad.

  “Hey, forget about that and give me a kiss,” I said, reaching for her. “Those legs, mamita. Damn.”

  Inside, the six of us toured all the areas under construction. I was delighted that the fountains had gone in, and although they weren’t running yet, they were every bit as beautiful as I hoped they’d be.

  “Rafa! I love this one!” said Amada. She stood in front of the sixteen foot tall bronze statue of a ballerina in fifth position, whose skirt would be formed by jets of water when it was running. Lidia and Raquel came to stand beside us, fascinated.

  “Rafa, all of the fountains are exquisite, but this one is breathtaking,” said Lidia.

  “Does it have a special significance?” asked Raquel.

  “It does,” I said. “It reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago.”

  “A girlfriend?” asked Amada, arching an eyebrow.

  “No, nothing like that, baby. I’ll tell you the story soon.”

  We toured the members only section, which was still being fitted with custom cabinetry and the special trophy bar I’d ordered. When the accent lighting was installed, and the uber-masculine furnishings arrived, it was going to be spectacular.

  “This is what I’m talking about,” said Carlos, slapping me on the back. “My new home!”