Date: Thu, 19 Nov 2015 05:59:04 +0000 (UTC)
From: ssmundo06@yahoo.com.au
Subject: José breaks the piñata - part 1 (Gay male, Interracial)

The following is the first part of a two part story.
José breaks the Piñata - 1
By Roger Steele

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I am a geologist from Sydney, and was holidaying for the first time in Cuba
for three months last year. I wanted to improve my ability to speak
Spanish, and experience first hand, the Cuban culture and people - to
understand what made them unique and so special. Another reason I came to
Cuba, was the appeal of Cuban men.

Having married in my early twenties and divorced in my thirties, I had long
fantasized about man to man sex and given the opportunity, I wanted to
experience the reality . A former profesional footballer, I was a fit, slim
middle-aged man when I arrived in Cuba. I was immediately struck by the
physical beauty of the men, and their self-confidence. They seemed to
demand and expect the admiration of both men and women. I was amazed by the
warm and sexy nature of Cubans in general, and discovered that sex is a
national passion and past-time.  While I loved their relaxed, openness
about their sexuality, I was unsure whether I was reading the sexual
signals correctly. Were these gorgeous men really flirting with me, or was
it just their natural charm and friendliness? Surely they couldn´t all
be homosexual or bisexual?

I was enrolled in a Spanish language course as a mature-age student at
Havana University, and found lodgings in a bed and breakfast place
nearby. On my daily walks around the neighbourhood, I noticed a small
cafetería on the block where I lived and thought it worth
trying. That´s where I met José.

With changing laws in Cuba to encourage private enterprise and small
businesses, Mirta had opened a cafetería in the front garden of a grand
house in Vedado, not far from the University of Havana and close to the
busy tourist centre on La Rampa.  Mirta´s nephew José, a black,
former junior wrestling champion in Guantanamo Province, had come to Havana
from Eastern Cuba, in search of a better life. He was working regularly on
casual jobs, doing heavy lifting, labouring and house painting. Although
many years since his competitive wrestling days, forty-year old José was
still an impressive figure, and single. Mirta would tease her gentle nephew
for not showing interest in the local girls, but she understood that his
inclinations did not lie in that direction.

One hot, still evening I called in for dinner, greeted Mirta and the other
clients, and couldn´t help noticing a strongly-built black man, about 40
years old, in white singlet and typical deep blue overalls rolled down to
his waist. It was José and when his eyes met mine he greeted me with a
warm smile. Perfect white teeth contrasted with his dark smooth
skin. Cubans would call José negro - black - but his skin was really a
delightful dark chocolate brown.

When my dinner, of fried chicken, black beans, white rice, sweet potato
with a salad of tomato and cucumber, was served, I took it and sat in the
vacant chair beside him. We introduced ourselves and chatted amiably in
Spanish. José explained that he often came to relax at his aunt´s
cafeteria as he was working nearby. I told him where I lived, and José
knew the house well, having worked for the owner. As we talked, our knees
touched apparently accidentally. I expected José to move his leg away,
but when he didn´t, I left mine where it was. The intimate, discrete
contact with this Cuban was thrilling. I glanced around to see if anyone
else noticed. After eating, we said our goodbyes and I hoped we would meet
again.

The next day, I called at the same time, bought my dinner and looked around
for José, but he was not there. Mirta explained that he had been there
earlier but had left. When I next met José at Mirta´s cafeteria, I
took advantage of the opportunity to know him better and invited him for a
drink after work sometime. José was enthusiastic, but explained that he
was too dirty to go out that evening - having come directly from work - and
had to leave Havana early the next morning, to return to Guantanamo on a
family matter.  We agreed to get together on José´s return.

A month passed, without a sign of José. I occasionally asked Mirta if
she knew when her nephew was returning. She told me that he had phoned and
asked about me, and she encouraged me not to lose patience. At last came a
phone call. José was back in Havana and keen to catch up. I suggested we
meet that evening near José´s rented room in Old Havana, not far from
bars and restaurants.I was excited - but ill at ease, still unsure what
sort of person José was, or why he wanted to meet. Could I really hope
that he also felt attracted to me?. And could it be dangerous if I was
misreading his signals?

I arrived early at the rendezvous location at the agreed time - 8 pm. The
street scene was typical for Old Havana. Narrow and poorly lit, the street
was lined by decaying two and three storey houses from the early 20th
century. Previously large houses owned by wealthy middle-class business
people had been subdivided after the revolution as "solars", to provide
accommodation for the homeless poor, predominantly black families, who at
the time were pouring into the capital city. Typically the streets, were
broken and dirty, but filled with laughter, shouts of neighbours and street
vendors, playing children and adults gathering to talk, or play dominoes on
a makeshift table under a dim street light. This evening, however, being
early in the week things were relatively quiet.

I was uncomfortable and felt conspicuous - a white middle-aged student -
hanging about, waiting for José, unsure what I was getting myself into,
but keen to find out. This was not an area where tourists had any reason to
go. At last, walking down the middle of the street came José, dressed to
kill, in white slacks, white sandals, a white baseball cap, and a light
coloured, body hugging T-shirt. He was impressive, as was the bulge in the
front of his tight trousers. He greeted me with a beaming smile that showed
his perfect teeth, and put me more at ease with a hug and a kiss on one
cheek.

José invited me to see his lodging, so we walked back up the street and
entered under a large wooden frame that was preventing the front of
Josés building from collapsing, an event sadly not uncommon in Old
Havana. Climbing the shared staircase to an unknown number of separate
homes within the building, past the shared toilet, José unlocked the
door to his place. It was a sparsely furnished room with a gas cooker,
sink, and table and two chairs, which opened onto a small balcony over the
street we had just left. José showed me up a small set of stairs to the
jerry-built mezzanine floor, where he slept on a single bed. It was clean
and tidy, with some clothes hanging, neatly ironed from a pole, suspended
from the ceiling, and a couple of bags of José´s sparse
belongings. We sat, awkwardly side by side on the bed, our knees nearly
touching, neither sure what to do or say next, each hoping the other would
take the initiative. I was still wondering if it was just wishful thinking
that José might be sexually interested in me. He was probably just being
friendly. Neither of us had eaten so I suggested we go and find something
to eat. As we walked into nearby Old Havana, I thought "I can´t go on
not knowing. I have to find out if he is interested in men, or risk making
a fool of myself?

We found a nearby restaurant and ordered our meals. After small talk about
family, and work, I broached the subject, heart in mouth, leaning towards
José and speaking under my breath. "So José, can I ask if you are
attracted to men or women or both? José half-smiled, didn´t answer -
but reached under the table and took my hand and placed it on his upper
thigh and then groin, where I could feel a large, thick cock, rapidly
swelling. Now both smiling, and with my hand still, discretely, on his
thigh under the table, the atmosphere changed. We knew we wanted the same
thing and that this was going to be fun.

After the meal, keen for whatever was coming, I wanted to go straight back
to José´s bed. But José, who didn´t often have the chance to go
out on the town, wanted to visit the Malecon together, the waterfront
boulevard of Havana, where courting couples, and others, parade, sit and
snog. We bought a bottle of Havana Club rum and took it, with some Cuban
cigarettes, to the Malecon. After walking for awhile, we sat on the seawall
in a relatively deserted part of the Malecon, thighs pressed together. we
talked and drank, with arms around waists and shoulders, and then kissed on
the lips for the first time, at first gently and cautiously - conscious of
being in a public space.  Gradually, the kisses became more
passionate. Confidently José eased his moist pink tongue between my
lips, and sensuously took control, invading and exploring my body, sensing
what I wanted. We talked, and drank and smoked Cuban cigarettes. In no time
it was midnight, the rum was gone, and José was hard and horny - ready
to take me home to make love. But it couldn´t be, not tonight anyway, as
it was already late and I had to be up early for University!

A Cuban phrase for having sex for the first time is "romper el hielo"
(breaking the ice) and José could hardly believe that having come this
far, that he and I would not break the ice. He said it´s like going to a
children´s party and leaving without breaking the piñata (a papier
maché decoration filled with surprises and treats which is smashed as
the climax of a Latin American children´s party)!

Still, we embraced, kissing passionately again, unconcerned about the
passing couples who were more interested in each other; nor vehicles, which
were few and far between. José´s muscular tongue again explored the
moist sensitive cavity of my mouth, hinting of what we each hoped would
follow before much longer. With a laugh, José showed me the damp patch
on the front of his trousers where his turgid cock, erect for hours, had
been leaking precum. With difficulty we separated and returned to our
respective homes, promising to get together as soon as we could to break
the piñata? But that would have to wait until the following Saturday.