When I woke up the sun was blazing in the windows and Grandma was making coffee. I wrapped the blanket around myself and joined her on the deck. The lake was azure with ripples from a south wind.
“Nice weather, but it’s not going to last long,” Grandma said.
“How so?”
“I went for a walk before you woke up, out the drive to the county road. There you can see west across the field. North-west horizon’s dark, cold front coming.”
“Anything on the radio?”
“I haven’t listened,” she replied. “But, from the looks of it, you’d better get the canoe out and pull the pontoon boat up on the boards.”
“Sure.”
“So, how’s school going Ricky?” she asked.
We talked for a while about what I was studying. Every month, right around the first, a $100.00 check would appear in the mail from her…something I really appreciated. Often I had to rely on it to eat. I was the first person in the family to go to college and she thought it was a big deal.
“Maybe you can rub off on that little sister of yours. Her dad says she’s not too keen on school.”
“She says she doesn’t like the other kids—says they’re all jerks.”
“Huh!” She paused. “Well, I guess I was the same way. Problem is, these days there aren’t any communes to go off and live in, unless you want to be a Moonie or are into the Dianetics crap.”
“She could always become a Hari Krishna, can’t you see Donna pinning flowers on people at airports?”
Grandma cracked up, her laugh was always infectious.
“What’s so funny?” Maggie was standing at the door, still naked.
“You’re up, come here honey,” Grandma said.
She went over and sat down on Grandma’s lap and received a kiss.
“How are you this morning, sweet heart?” Grandma said. I saw that she had checked out Maggie’s crotch, probably looking for dried blood.
“Fine,” she said and hugged.
“Can I get you some OJ?”
“No thank you,” Maggie said. Then she ran her hands up and down her arms. “It’s kind of chilly.”
“Well, yeah, if you’re in your birthday suit.”
“Come here,” I said, opening a flap of my blanket.
She came over and snuggled up in my lap. I’m sure she felt my cock against her bare ass.
Grandma came back out carrying a tray with two coffees and a glass of orange juice. I wanted to go back to talking about college—I had taken a history class and thought Grandma might know something about the stuff I had studied.
“Grandma, Dad told me that you lived in South America when you were little.”
“Not South America, Guatemala.”
“Where’s that?” Maggie asked.
“It’s in Central America, just south of Mexico—it’s quite a story if you two want to sit through it.”
“Sure,” I said.
“Well, to start with, my father, your Great Grandfather, was killed in Korea when I was a little girl. There was a war there, Maggie,” she looked at my cousin, “and the US sent troops from 1950 to 1952—have you ever seen the TV show M*A*S*H? It’s set during that war.”
“Anyway, my mother, I guess she went a little crazy and decided to take me and leave the States. I guess she was a communist. Why she went to Guatemala I have no idea, I was your age, Maggie.”
She was quiet for a moment, looking out over the lake.
“It was years later, when I was in high school, that I learned what we were really doing. There was a revolution going on there and my mother had decided to join it…and took me along for the ride. I remember I thought it was a big adventure, camping in the jungles with the monkeys and toucans. I didn’t like all the bugs. There were men there, and they taught me to shoot a rifle—I almost couldn’t pick it up but I could shoot it straight.”
“It was only later that I realized that the man running things was Castro, he’s the President of Cuba now and a real pain in the ass to the US.”
“I’d heard that you met him,” I said.
“Met him—we practically lived together. He didn’t have a beard then, he was very quiet but, I remember that people really respected him. I don’t know why, I wasn’t that impressed. I guess these days you’d call him a nerd. Of course, I was nine years old. I’d have different ideas. I think he liked me, I used to sit on his lap and he taught me some Spanish.”
“Wow,” I said, “you ought to come and speak at my school.”
“I really don’t have much to say, at least that I can tell strangers about,” she replied. “I was nine or ten—I wasn’t really a revolutionary, couldn’t be. Actually, I guess I was what they call a ‘child solder,’ took me a lot of years to get over it all. Problem is, whenever I’d talk about it no one seemed to understand what was really bothering me…they all keyed into what they thought was ‘abuse,’ not what I really felt bad about.”
I was very interested.
“It’s hard for me, even now, but if you’ll keep your mouth shut I’ll tell you everything that happened. I think it’s important that you kids know the story.”
“OK,” we both said.
“As I said, there was a revolution going on. The American Fruit Company practically owned the place—a true ‘banana republic.’ Castro was there organizing the workers. He used to go out at night to meetings with them, if the company had found out there’d be trouble. He’d take mom along sort as a propaganda tool—and American who was for them. Eventually, when they were making some head way, the Americans and the CIA sent in people to take control—stop the workers who only wanted a decent wage or the little farmers who had their lands taken.”
“Well, one day everybody in the camp was really excited because Che’ was coming. You know, Che’ Guevara, the revolutionary.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Everyone was so excited, they had been talking about him for a week, especially Fidel. One day, we just knew he’d arrive that day, not when, he drove up on a motorcycle. I remember that Castro introduced me as ‘Mi Amore Americao’, my American love. I sat across the fire from him while we ate that night. Someone was playing a guitar, I think we all had a lot to drink.”
“He was a real good looking man and really funny. I didn’t speak much Spanish, and didn’t understand a lot of what was said that evening, but I remember people laughed a lot—most of all Che’. He was a natural leader, people were just drawn to him. That evening, before he called me, I really got a crush on him.”
“I was sitting next to mom, leaning against her side when he walked over and reached down. ‘Come with me,’ he said. I looked at mommy and she smiled, then said, ‘Go, go with him.’”
“He took me to his tent and we went inside. He lit a lantern hanging from the frame and turned to me. All he did was look at me and say ‘get undressed.’”
“I remember my heart was pounding. His eyes were shining, he seemed so strong—so powerful—I’d do anything for him. So, I just took all my clothes off, first my shirt, then I slipped out of my shoes, then I pulled my pants off. It felt so good when I stood up in front of him and he looked at me…I wanted him to see me…it was what I could give him. Strange for such a young girl, I was your age Maggie, to feel that way but that’s how he was. He could have anything just for asking.”
“Then he pulled his shirt off over his head. He sat down on the cot and unlaced his boots, I helped him pull them off. Then he stood up and pulled off his pants. I had seen men before, we all bathed in the river, so I wasn’t shocked or anything. He took my hands and put them around his penis. It was warm and it just seemed natural to stroke him. I wasn’t surprised at all as he got hard, all I could do was stare into his eyes.”
“He put his hands on my shoulders and slowly pushed me down. I remember that it was as if I was on automatic. I’d never even heard of oral sex but, well, when I saw his penis I just wanted to feel it in my mouth—and it just felt so natural.”
“When I started sucking him he groaned and said something in Spanish, but I didn’t understand. He whispered softly and stroked my hair and cheek. I had my hands around his legs, on the back of his thighs, and they got real tense and started to quiver. That’s when he lifted my chin, and I stood back up. We kissed, his penis was hard against my stomach. I didn’t know about French kissing and that was quite a surprise too.” She smiled at us.
“Che’ was a great kisser,” she said.
“Then he turned me around and sat me down on the cot and pushed me back. I remember that I leaned against the side of tent and I was afraid I’d fall through, so I slid down so my bottom was off the other side of the cot.”
“Then he did something that really did shock me—I had never even dreamed that someone would go down on a woman. I couldn’t believe it when he started licking me down there. I must have had four orgasms before he was done. I was drenched in sweat, it was really warm in the tent, and I know I moaned and groaned some.”
“Later mom told me that she had sat outside the tent and listened, even peeked in a couple of times. She said that if he had tried to force me to do anything she would have stopped him.”
“I was really afraid when he straightened up, because I knew that he was going to enter me then and I was scared it would hurt. It did, some, but it was also wonderful. At first it hurt but then, well, I guess when he broke my hymen the pressure was released and he just slid up inside me. When I felt him filling me with his sperm it made me have the best orgasm yet—I thought I’d pass out it was so strong.”
She was quiet while she took a couple of long sips of her coffee.
“In the morning he was hard again but I was too sore. He just laughed and sort of nodded down. I knelt between his knees and sucked him. I was a surprised when he came, I wasn’t expecting it and I didn’t know what to do. I was holding him in my mouth, watching him. He was sliding his penis in and out, I didn’t know that he was going to cum—it had not even occurred to me. He began to shiver and he groaned and suddenly my mouth had all this wet goo in it. At first I didn’t even know where it was coming from until I pulled him out and he shot some onto my lips. He pushed me back down and I felt his penis twitching in my mouth, each time a little more of his semen would be in my mouth.
I swallowed some, and some leaked out around my lips and ran over my hands. When he finished he lifted my chin and told me to show him, so I opened my mouth. Some ran down onto my chin. Then he told me to swallow and I did. Then he pulled me up on him and we kissed—it felt so nice having his arms wrapped around me.”
“When I got back to our tent I thought my mother was still asleep. I climbed into my cot and she was looking at me.”
“’How are you?’ she asked.”
“’Mommy,’ I was so afraid she’d be mad, ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.”
“’Don’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong. He’s a great man, it’s normal for women to want men with so much power. I’m envious that he chose you instead of me.’”
“Later that day he left. He hugged me and kissed me in front of everybody before he rode off. I never saw him again and, a few years later when I heard he had been killed, I cried all night. My aunt was so mad at me.”
“Your aunt?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah, I’ll get to that, but I lived with my aunt and uncle when I was a teenager.”
“Oh,” Maggie said.
“Let me get a refill on my coffee, then I’ll tell the rest of the story,” she said. “Do you want more OJ?”
“I need to go potty,” Maggie said.
The two went back into the cabin while I got up and walked around the side and looked to the west. Sure enough, through the trees I could see that it was getting darker.
Maggie came up behind me and I felt her hand in mine. I looked down and smiled—she was still naked.
“Good morning again, dear,” I said. I leaned down and kissed her head.
“Come on back you two nudists, I’ll finish my story,” Grandma said as she came out with more coffee and OJ.
We settled back in, this time there was no blanket between Maggie and me, her skin was soft and warm against me as she nestled my cock in her ass crack.
“Well, let me get back to my story. I never saw Che’ again. In fact, we heard that he had been arrested just the next day. That’s also when the fighting started. Castro and some men came back into camp, they said there had been shooting and we had to be extra careful. They also posted guards and started sending patrols out on the road to the camp. I went along, they liked me because I was really good at climbing trees.”
She was looking out over the lake; I could see that her face was getting sad.
“Then, one day, they came into the camp. There was quite a battle and I climbed up a tree with my rifle. There were solders; they were dressed in green uniforms. They shot some of the guards; most of the people ran off into the jungle. Then they went tent to tent. There was one solder who went into a tent, then I heard a gun fire, then he’d go into the next tent. I heard a man saying something and the gun fired, then it was silent. He went into my tent and I heard my mother scream. He dragged her out by her hair and kicked her. She fell onto the ground, saying something in English. He stopped and looked at her and she jumped up and hit him. He shoved her away, pulled out his pistol and shot her in the face.”
“Next, I don’t know what happened, all I remember was feeling my rifle kick and the man fell onto the ground. Another solder turned toward me and, all of a sudden, blood spurted out of his neck. He looked down, then up at me, and then fell down. Another solder came running and when I tried to aim at him I lost my grip and fell. Then there were men all standing around me while others fired their guns into the trees, I guess they couldn’t believe I was the one who was shooting. Lucky for me, my rifle hadn’t fallen with me, it must have gotten hung up somehow.”
“One of them grabbed me and jerked me up and suddenly they were all silent. Another solder, he must have been an officer, came up and took me away. We went through the jungle to a truck where he called inside. That’s when a white man came out.”
“’What’s your name?’ he said in English.”
“I guess he was a CIA agent or something. I was taken to the embassy and then shipped back home. That’s how I ended up living with my aunt, my mother’s older sister.”
“They would never believe me about the attack, I guess the CIA made up some other story about how they got me. All they wanted to talk about was Che’, they were sure I had been raped by him, but that’s not how it happened…” She was quiet, her eyes were full. “They didn’t believe about mother, and even if they did, she was a communist, she didn’t matter. They thought I made up the whole story about the attack, my aunt called me a lair. All they cared about was my story about Che’. After a while I just decided not to talk to anyone.”
“Wow, that’s a terrible thing,” I said. “It’s very sad…”
“That’s only the first half of the story,” she said.
“My aunt and uncle didn’t want me. My cousins were all older, only one, Mary, was still in school and she moved away after she graduated, only after a couple of months. I was just an unwanted burden to them—and they let me know. When I had trouble in school—as you can expect—all they did was yell at me. I had a teacher tell me that I was a communist and should be shipped to Russia. The other kids called me a ‘red’.”
“Then, after just a year or so, my uncle started coming into my room at night. At first, well, it was the only love I could get. But after a while, I began to resent it because he wasn’t interested in me, he didn’t care about me, only getting off.”
“There was a woman, she had been friends with mom, Alberta, she always took interest in me and started looking out for me. She was a librarian, so I started hanging out at the library after school. I also started spending time at her house—she really sort of became my best friend, and my mother.”
“Then, when I was fourteen, I got pregnant with your father,” she looked at me. “Carry (my aunt) was really pissed at me, not at Uncle Paul. She said it was my fault; she even hit me across the face with a belt. That’s when I ran away.”
Maggie looked up at me with a shocked expression. “That means your daddy’s daddy is different from my mommy’s…”
“Yes dear,” Grandma said. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew…”
“My dad didn’t tell me until a couple of years ago,” I said.
“I thought he died in a motorcycle accident,” Maggie said.
“Your grandfather did,” Grandma said. “I married him when I was seventeen…, your mother came along a few months later. George was a wonderful man, he adored your mother and he was a good father to Jack too. I wish he had been as good a motorcycle driver as he was a husband…there’s not a day I don’t think of him.”
“Anyway, I went and lived with Alberta until Jack was about three, that’s when I married George and we went to live in the commune.”
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