Mistaken Identity

Michael had been in Havana for four days and still hadn't got laid, despite the assurances of a work colleague (who had raved about Cuba as a holiday destination for singles) that it was 'as easy as falling off a log'.The hookers on the notorious Prada avenue were all dumpy and overweight and clad in lurid purple or orange lycra body suits, and there had been a recent police purge of the more glamorous jinetera amateur prostitutes. So Michael was left with the handful of unattached single women staying in his hotel, the best of whom had already been snapped up by Cuban hunks.He sat on a bench in the city's huge Parque Central, reviewing his options. Should he make a pass at the girl at the next table to his at breakfast - who was about as attractive as Angela Merkl - or hang the consequences and try a quickie in a dark doorway with a Prado hooker?It was noon and hot and he was very horny. He was about to seek the refuge of an air-conditioned bar for his first rum cocktail of the day, when he spotted an attractive young dark-skinned Cuban woman, talking to an old gardener tending one of the park's flowerbeds. He picked a single cream bloom from a butterfly bus and handed it to her with a smile. She placed it behind her ear, thanked bursa escort him and strolled off across the square.She was very tall - Michael guessed nearly six feet - statuesque and 'leggy'. Her deliciously-long gams were unstockinged, with their slender thighs disappearing beneath the edge of a microscopically-short pair of denim shorts. If the shorts had been one inch shorter her crotch would have been on display. She wore a snugly-fitting white T-shirt, which emphasised her ample bosom and her jet black hair was bunched up high on her head, held by a tortoise shell clip. From a broad muscular shoulder, the rope of an ancient straw basket hung.Michael's heart missed a beat when he realised that this heavenly apparition was making a bee-line for his bench."Phew, I'm bushed!" were her opening words as she slumped down, fanning herself with one hand. At close quarters, she was stunningly beautiful, with big dark brown eyes, long eyelashes and lush, sensuous ruby lips."Yeah, hot isn't it?""Hey, where are you from?" she asked eagerly, on hearing his accent."England.""Wow! I've always wanted to visit England.'"Personally, I'd say you were better off here.""Why so, honey?""Because England is cold and wet and bursa escort bayan expensive!" He'd noted the use of the word 'honey'."How long are you here for?""Only four more days, I'm afraid.""Where are you staying?""At the Seville Plaza.""Hey, how swanky! I've always wanted to see inside there."He paused to reflect on whether he should make a pass now. Why not?"When you came up just now, I was toying with the idea of finding a bar to have a drink. I was wondering...would you care to join me? The Seville Plaza serves a wonderful mojito?""Why I'd love to!" She sounded genuinely thrilled."My name's Michael, by the way.""And I'm Gloria." She pouted her lips tantalisingly."I must say that flower you're wearing really suits you, Gloria."Why thank you, Michael," she purred sweetly, in a husky voice. "Do you know what it's called?""Nope, can't say I do.""Mariposa." As she slid closer to him on the bench, he picked up a musk and orange fragrance. "It also happens to be the slang word in Spanish for..." she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper..."a gay man!"They crossed the square together and headed for Michael's hotel, three blocks away. The doorman nodded courteously as they entered and Michael escort bursa was thrilled to feel this glamorous young woman take his arm as they went up the carpeted entrance steps.Within moments, a waiter was by their side to take their order as they seated themselves on a corner sofa, in front of the cooling draft from a big window which overlooked the street. An old-fashioned fan revolved overehead."So what have you got planned for this afternoon, Gloria?""I'm meeting a girlfriend over at the Botanical Gardens. You?""Not a lot. I thought I might try one of the museums, or maybe go up the Marti tower." He didn't dare tell her that he'd rather take her up to his room and spend the afternoon fucking her. At that point the drinks arrived.Very soon Michael had ordered a second round. Gloria stretched out her gazelle-like legs, lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes, allowing him to take a long look at her magnificent breasts for the first time.Her huge black nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton of the T-shirt and she obviously wasn't wearing a bra. She caught him peeping as she opened her eyes, smiled and jiggled them provocatively for him. The nipples hardened with the contact of the cotton. In their discreet hideaway corner, he so much wanted to slip his hand under her T-shirt to fondle those beautiful globes. He was already half-hard."Honey, I'm going to have to find the little girls' room," she said coyly, clamping her thighs together as if she was about to wet herself.