Another Hot Night in Havana – a short story

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She danced alone, swaying her hips to the erotic samba rhythm. It was hot, so hot—both her and the temperature of the steamy tropical night. Her eyes were closed in complete indifference to the people surrounding her as sweat trickled down her chest and into the deep channel between her luscious breasts. I was mesmerized, as were all the men in the room. I wanted to lick the droplets of sweat from her naked breasts and press my body against her undulating hips. Her nipples were standing out beneath the flimsy dress that barely covered her and I yearned to take them in my mouth as I explored the sweet cheeks of her bottom with my hands.

“Forget it.”

I turned sideways to where an old man was sitting, alone like me.

“She’ll take you out back and make sweet love to you, sure. But you’ll come back minus your wallet, believe me.”

I turned back towards the woman, whose hands were now pressed against her thighs, pulling the dress further up her legs. It seemed to me that she was inviting me in, drawing my eyes to her smooth, shapely legs. I turned back towards the old man.

“Believe me, I know. I was here last summer. She had the lot—driver’s licence, five hundred dollars, credit card. This time I came with a cheap plastic wallet and a hundred bucks. She’s welcome to that. For that body of hers I’d willingly lose it.”

I stood to walk towards the woman, my body pulsing with need, but was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. It was the old man.

“Sorry, buddy. For a hundred you don’t even get within five yards of her.”

It seemed she now had a ‘minder’ and he was calling the shots.

“So what would it take to have a private dance with her, somewhere nearby? Just the two of us?”

He looked me up and down—no doubt assessing me to see how much money he could squeeze from me.

“You’ll need a lot more than a hundred bucks, buddy. You can have a half hour for two-fifty. And I stand outside the door in case you’re trouble.”

I looked again at the voluptuous beauty just a few yards away, weighing up whether I wanted to spend the other money I’d stashed in my sock. I decided to play the long game.

“Not sure I want to pay that price. I’ll just buy me a drink and watch her dance.”

I moved to a table next to the dance floor, and ordered a whisky.

The girl still had her eyes closed, but she sashayed a little closer to my table, clearly aware of my presence. I doubted that she would remember me. A hundred guys had probably passed this way since I was last here.

She turned away from me so I could see her firm, round bottom undulating beneath the dress. I refrained from the temptation of reaching out and touching her, not keen on being thrown onto the street, probably with a broken nose. She was clearly advertising her wares and I was becoming uncomfortably aware of her effect on me.

The man sidled up to the table, keen to make a deal.

“Special rate, since you had a bad experience last time. Let’s say two hundred bucks, and I’ll throw in an extra ten minutes too.”

I turned to look at the old man, who was unshaven and dressed in frayed jeans and a slightly grubby white t-shirt. He didn’t look like a pimp. I shook my head.

“Nah! I’ll just watch tonight. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.”

The man looked disappointed, but backed away. I ordered a second whisky and leaned back in the chair. The music changed to yet another Latin rhythm. The fan above the dance floor rotated slowly, as though it too was worn out by the heat. It barely even moved the air.

The woman opened her eyes and looked straight into mine. She smiled gently with plump, luscious lips that I pictured clamped around my hardening cock, before turning away once again. She seemed to know that her rear view was mesmerising to me—her selling point. I wondered if she would let me spank her. I could almost hear the crisp crack of my hand contacting that lovely bottom.

The man returned. This time he looked a little desperate.

“Okay, you win. Times are hard. A hundred dollars for a half hour.”

I nodded my acceptance.

“Follow me.”

I followed the man through a door and down a corridor to a small room whose only furniture was a bed, a chair and a sink in the corner. He stood in the doorway as I surveyed the room. The sheets looked clean, at least.

He held out his hand. “Money up front. She’ll be along in a minute.”

I took the hundred dollars from my wallet and handed it over. The man counted it and left, closing the door behind him. I wondered if I’d been a fool. There was no guarantee the girl would come.

Oh she came all right. The door opened and she leaned against the door frame, the sweat of her dancing making her dress cling to her body.

“Hi, honey. I heard you wanted to see me.”

She smiled—a gloriously full smile, revealing a perfect set of white teeth, and walked towards me, sashaying those hips and making me instantly hard. The anticipation sent an electric current through my body. I was in for a treat.

She closed the door behind her and came to meet me. I found my voice at last. “You looked so sexy on the dance floor.”

She smiled. “I try my best. You got the money?”

I was startled. “I already paid the old man.”

“What old man? I don’t have a pimp. I’m strictly a lone operator. It’s one hundred and fifty for half an hour, two hundred dollars for an hour.”

I groaned inwardly. Not again! I really was a sucker. But I reached down to my sock for my reserve supply. There wasn’t a chance I was going to leave now. I handed over two hundred dollars. I planned to get my money’s worth.

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