"How-?" I started to ask.
In answer, she moved around me and faced the spray, leaning forward to put her hands on the white porcelain tiles. She bent backward at the waist, moving her pussy lips into position. I reached below the upturned cheeks of her ass and parted her lips. Holding her lips open with one hand, I used the other to guide my shaft into her. She moaned loudly as I entered her. It was more difficult doing it in the shower. I quickly realized one reason why she wanted to do it in the shower. The water covered any noise we would make. She was very noisy this time.
She was very vocal, urging me on as I fucked her. She was a different woman now. I grasped her hips and fucked her hard. I was afraid my pounding would cause one or both of us to slip, but she kept urging me on with cries of "Deeper!" and "More!" and "Harder!" I was fucking her with abandon now, and I started to make noises as well. She squealed and yelled when she came, totally uninhibited. Since I had cum twice already this morning, I could last a long time. I think she was counting on that as well. We fucked a long time like that. For a while, I sat down on the bottom of the tub, with my back to the showerhead to block the spray, and she knelt over me. We kissed and hugged as she rode my dick. We tried to do it standing up and facing each other. What finally worked was for her to put her arms around my neck, and lift one leg (which I helped hold up) to open her slit. That changed the angle of her cunt enough for me to penetrate her. We did it that way for a few minutes, but the position was too tiring to do for very long. We ended up finishing as we started, with me entering her from behind and holding on to her tits as I pushed myself as far as possible into her. I grunted loudly as I filled her with my cum. She moaned loudly and pushed her bottom hard against me, driving my dick as far as possible into her pussy.
When I extracted myself from her clutching depths, I let the condom drain onto the bottom of the shower before tossing it out onto the bathroom floor. She turned around and melted into my arms. We kissed for a long time, the water from the showerhead cascading over our nude bodies. I could feel her hair against my softening dick and her erect nipples pressing into my chest.
Eventually, we got around to cleaning each other. When we got out of the shower, I remembered to pick up the used condom and toss it into the trash.
"I want us to come back to the room just before we leave for the airport. I want to be just fucked when you leave," she pleaded. I nodded. She was thinking about my impending departure. I was trying not to.
I shaved and we finished getting ready. We packed our bags. The only things not packed were the clothes we would wear. I turned to her and pulled her into an embrace. We shared one more naked kiss before getting dressed. As I pulled on my underwear, I spied the last condom and remembered I would have one more chance to see her naked.
We went downstairs and had breakfast together. I watched to make sure she ate well in spite of the gloom that was starting to descend over us. I knew this might be her last good meal for a long time.
We had planned for her to go to the airport with me. Since it was her day off, we would take a taxi to the airport. Once there, she would stay with me until it was time to board the plane. After I was gone, she would take the taxi home. I was going to leave her with more than enough money to pay for the trip.
After breakfast, we walked around the grounds of the hotel one last time. I stood on the inlaid map of Cuba, over the brass star that denoted Havana, and looked slightly east of north, to Florida. All I saw was blue water - the blue water that would separate us for a time. Felicita could sense my mood changing.
She touched me on the arm, softly, and asked, "Christopher, what are you thinking about?"
I didn't want to answer her. I wanted to keep to my promise to myself from yesterday. I wanted to give her only happy memories. She reached up and took hold of my chin. She gently, so gently, turned my face to hers. She saw it.
"You're crying," she said, a note of concern and a note of sadness coloring her sweet voice.
That did it. The tears that had been filling my eyelids began streaming down my cheeks. I pointed out to the sea with one hand, holding her with the other. It took me a moment or two to get enough control to speak.
"When you look out at the water," I began. My voice cracked. It was hard to form the words without sobbing. "Look just east of north. That is where I'll be. That is where freedom is."
Her eyes looked out to where I was pointing. I could see it in her eyes. She was looking for it. She had never seen it. She didn't know what it looked like, but she was trying to imagine what that land of freedom looked like. I put my arm tightly around her and we both looked out over the tropical blue sea, towards Florida. We stood there a long time, on top of the map, looking east of north. I willed my tears to dry up. I knew I had to put a braver face on for Felitica.
When we turned away from the water, I saw that her face was also streaked with tears. She had been crying with me. We smiled that sad, embarrassed smile people try to wear at things like funerals. We wanted to be strong for each other, but we both knew our hearts were being torn out.
I looked at my watch and saw it was nearing time to get a taxi for the airport. She saw me looking and nodded. Without speaking any words, we walked back up to my room. In the cool dimness of the room, we undressed each other. As I delicately removed each piece of clothing, I knew I was seeing her like this, touching her like this, for the last time in a long time – maybe even for the last time. Our clothes were laid out over the chair because we would be putting them back on again soon. Too soon. We embraced and she could feel that I wasn't erect yet.
"It's OK, Christopher. Relax." Her words were spoken in a soothing, loving tone. She got down on her knees and sucked my dick into her mouth. I had seen her and touched her naked, but hadn't got erect. As loving as her touch was, my melancholy mood was interfering with the moment. Feeling her mouth around my member, I finally responded, filling her mouth. She got up, smiling, and led me to the bed. She lay down with her legs apart and looked to me. I picked up the last love rubber and put it on. I was trying hard to put my sadness away in the back of my mind. I wanted this to be good for both of us, but especially for her. I certainly didn't want to lose my erection in the middle of it. I looked at her lying there, naked, taking deep breaths. I put my face between her thighs and probed with my tongue to be sure she was wet enough to be penetrated. I licked her lips and sucked on her clit, teasing her into lubricating for me. When I could taste her wetness flowing freely, I moved up to position my cock at her entrance. I felt her warm wet lips make contact. She felt it, too, and sighed.
I pushed, feeling her outer lips parting. I pushed at her opening. It resisted, but then gave in to my gentle pushing. I started to slip in as her pussy opened like a blooming flower. I entered her slowly, wanting to prolong the sensation of the initial penetration. She groaned as I slid into her cunt with agonizing slowness, filling her, stretching her. As her outer lips were pulled apart by my girth, they in turn pulled on the hood of her clit, tugging it and stimulating her further. She was watching me with hooded eyes, giving herself totally and completely to me. She was mine to use for my pleasure. I, in turn, wanted only to give her pleasure. I waited until I was fully inside her pussy before I leaned forward and pressed my body against hers. The feel of her body against mine was heady.
She immediately held on to me tightly with her arms and her legs, as if she would never let me go. I opened my mouth as my lips touched hers, tasting her mouth and letting her taste her pussy juices in my mouth. I was aware of every touch – the warm smoothness of her skin, the strands of hair around her face, even the roughness of the cotton sheets against my legs. The air conditioner was rumbling softly, perhaps straining to compensate for the additional heat our bodies were generating. I could hear her breathing beneath me; her soft moaning and the gentle creaking of the bed keeping time as we made love softly, slowly, lovingly. I lasted a long time, making her cum twice before I did. When my orgasm approached, I was in a quagmire. I wanted to cum, to experience the peak. I also didn't want this to ever end. I knew it would be our last time. I was savoring the feel of her pussy around my dick. Like the image of her face, I was trying to memorize this feeling. Eventually, my dick overruled my brain. Felicita gave a loud cry as she came again, her pussy squeezed my dick, and I filled the condom. It was over. The last love rubber had fulfilled the purpose for which it had been made.
We held each other for a few minutes, savoring each other's touch. We both knew we had to get up. We had to go to the airport. There was a Soviet jet waiting to take me back to the free world. Outside these walls, reality was waiting to pull us apart. I got up from the bed with great reluctance. My erection had subsided, my dick hanging sadly. The condom, heavy with sperm, also hung in mourning. I looked at her pussy, the lips open from my penetration, her opening leaking fragrant juices. I bent down and gave it a last kiss, a last suck for her clit, eliciting a last moan from her lips.
We dressed in silence, watching each other. She didn't clean up. She wanted to stay wet, to feel that we had just made love. She wanted her pussy to wet her panties. It was a reminder of me. If she could have done it, I think she would have preferred to have my sperm leaking out of her pussy at that moment.
When we were dressed, we hugged in the room one last time. I looked around, thinking about all that had happened inside these walls. We walked out, silence now enveloping our love nest.
I checked out of the hotel and asked for a taxi to take us to the airport. Our bags were taken to the front door and a bellman hailed a cab. It was a late model Mercedes; the driver spoke excellent English. Now that I was leaving, I found the locals who spoke English. "Jose Marti," I told the driver and we were off.
Felicita held my hand tightly and whimpered softly. She was holding my hand too tight, and her grasp was sweaty. I wanted to be uncomfortable. I wanted to feel her there. All too soon, I would be alone. Very alone. And so would she.
