Vaya mal rato que pasamos. Llegué a pensar que me había enredado con un maleante, un cínico e inescrupuloso capaz de robarle al prójimo, capaz de dejar a niños y enfermos sin un alimento vital, y sentí vergüenza por dudar. Armando, hasta donde vi, era un buen samaritano, un tipo pacífico y su comportamiento estaba lejos de la curiosa oración que se forma al leer su nombre completo. Aún no salíamos del susto, pero el desagradable incidente no nos echaría a perder la noche.
Hello, my friends. It's a pleasure to greet you. Today marks the end of our Havana date; I hope you enjoy the final surprise and the adult language.
What a rough time we had. I started to think I had gotten tangled up with a crook, a cynical and unscrupulous man capable of stealing from others, capable of leaving children and the sick without vital nourishment, and I felt ashamed for doubting. Armando, from what I saw, was a good Samaritan, a peaceful guy, and his behavior was far from the curious phrase that forms when you read his full name. We hadn't yet recovered from the shock, but the unpleasant incident wasn't going to ruin our night.
-Si no hubieras pagado trovadores, mariachis y florecita cursi, quizás tuvieras dinero para una habitación- le dije en tono de burla.
Me miró con ojos pecaminosos, tomó mi mano y me susurró con voz de galán de telenovela mexicana:
-Tengo el lugar ideal para nosotros.
So, we finally managed to finish our drinks and headed up La Rampa with a pleasant level of alcohol in our blood, in search of the cheapest love nest we could find. As I walked, I discarded, with every step, my pretentious fantasy of making love in that hotel. We went to five rental houses right in the heart of Vedado, but the tiny amount of money we had wasn't enough to pay the increasingly high rates they demanded for two hours of rent.
-If you hadn't paid for troubadours, mariachis, and a cheesy little flower, maybe you'd have money for a room," I said to him in a mocking tone.
He looked at me with sinful eyes, took my hand, and whispered to me in the voice of a Mexican soap opera heartthrob:
-I have the perfect place for us.
It was three in the morning, twelve hours after our date began. We walked a few blocks down 23rd Street and, thanks to the usual lack of public lighting in the city—which worked in our favor—we found the park at 19th and H as dark as a prehistoric cave. I became convinced, in an unresolute way, that necessity is the mother of invention, an infallible, directly proportional equation. We approached the bandstand with its gray columns that simulated tree trunks, and there, without spending a cent and without the slightest scruple, we unleashed pure lust, because when it comes to getting laid, the how, when, or where doesn't matter; the point is to get it done. And if it's in dangerous places, even better; the fear of being caught in the act increases the levels of adrenaline and excitement.
-Métela de una vez- le dije con total obscenidad.
Who cared about hotels or waterbeds or minibars stocked with beer, much less TVs with multiple channels, if we were already in paradise. The bandstand became the perfect, and above all, economical, inn. A round, firm bed, excellent for savoring worldly vices and excelling in some position or other from the Kamasutra, because there are no second chances for a first impression. I confirmed that those veins had not deceived me; the majestic member provided a firm and lasting erection that my lips savored with mischief. I took off my pullover, loosened my belt, and opened my fly; his knowing hand slid down to my pubis, skillfully caressed my glans and scrotum, his restless tongue on my nipples made my four cardinal points tremble.
-Put it in already-I said with total obscenity.
He turned me around, sucked on my neck and back. After several deep kisses, he penetrated me with the force of a bull charging another bull. My arms clung to the ground, doing everything possible to suppress my moans and not shout with happiness. In the midst of our frank frolic, dawn surprised us with the crow of a city rooster and the mischievous laughter of some early risers. Embarrassed by our lack of modesty—a detail we hadn't considered while our instincts ran wild—we dressed at lightning speed and got out of there in a flash. It was absurd that, driven by an irrepressible sexual impulse, we ended up stripping naked in such a place.
Fin.
Ready to return to our homes, in the inevitable transportation odyssey, we headed for the bus stop. It was Sunday, after all, and private cars were scarce. After three hours of waiting, the longed-for bus appeared, packed to the brim; we had no choice but to hang almost off the door. Another friendly, or rather mocking, driver greeted us with fake socialist enthusiasm and a Sunday smile:
-Thank you for choosing us.
The End.
Gracias por visitar mi blog
Texto e imágenes de mi propiedad
Thanks to visite my blog
Text and imagen are my own