The next morning came all too early as I am a noted early riser. I am pacing around HD’s place, drinking coffee and looking at the clock about every 5 minutes. Funny, I have traveled about a gozillion miles around the world and here I am acting like a hayseed on his first trip ever out of bum-fuck Idaho! HD finally gets his lazy ass out of bed and we are preparing to leave. We double check everything (except the P.R.’s) and make the 45 minute drive to the airport. We park and drag our sizeable amount of luggage to the counter and check in. I have a quick meeting with a partner who needs some information from the island; HD goes to the gate. As I am going through security a beautiful lady is being scanned by the hand held wand. She has her arms out and is providing a wonderful side view of her ample breast mounds in black bra, through the sparsely placed buttons on her shirt. Something keeps setting off the wand and the security lady keeps checking and re-checking. I dawdle a little with my bags on the scanner belt to maintain the view as long as possible. She is finally released and we begin the stroll to our respective gates. I casually mention the episode and said, “I guess you looked dangerous”. She laughed and responded, “never fails”. Metal in her shoes always causes a problem. I am tempted to chat this one up a little as she was very attractive and had the kind of build I like. Unfortunately, she had a different destination and her flight was already boarding. I am feeling good. My mind is in the right place thinking about the right things…..er…women!

HD and I finally are set board our flight and start our journey. Again, we had discussed our entry plans well in advance, had our stories all in sync and were ready for any interrogation that might come our way. In the middle of the flight, HD changes his mind and puts something different than what we had agreed upon on his entry immigration document. BASTARD! He is also planning a little scheme with the immigration person and plans to ask them not to stamp his passport so it won’t show an entry. Here he has gone and changed the whole scheme and my story has to stand on its own. Well, mine worked and so did his. I was just thankful I had traveled there many times and knew little out of the way places to tell them about.

We walk out of the terminal and down the sidewalk to the next terminal where we check in with Cubana Airlines. We have just arrived and are already paying a departure tax to leave. We grab a bite to eat and a cold beer. I buy a bottle of Scotch at the duty free (was this a stroke of luck) and add it to my considerable carry on load. (camera bags, briefcase with PC and business stuff and now a bag with a bottle in it.)

HD stops by the little internet café to check his e-mails. Damn people knew him from his many visits there. We finally go to our gate and get ready for boarding. We strike up a conversation with a guy who is solo, making his first trip to the island. He is fluent in Spanish and turns out his family was originally from there. He will have no problems.

We board the “Big Plane” as it is referred to which is actually and old Russian jet. Duck your head when entering or you will have a nasty bump. The AC is pumping out a fog of cold air that is filling the plane. As we take off, it really goes into high gear and fills the cabin. HD and I are laughing our asses off while our new found friend is looking around somewhat nervously.

Arrival in immigration was a breeze. “No stamp on the passport” was greeted with a sly grin from the immigrations officer. A few questions about my plans, where I was staying (better have this down pat when you arrive) and I was buzzed through the doors. Now, HD had told me he has never been stopped at customs. Yep, you guessed it. We were both pointed to the tables for inspection. HD pleaded with the guy that we had an appointment we were about to miss. The response was to bring an additional inspector so we didn’t have to wait. Uh-oh? I have a Playboy masked with a Spanish version of a Peoples magazine cover…taboo on the island! I also have some toys, clothes, perfumes and other assorted ‘regalos” and here I am standing in front of a female inspector. My ass begins to pucker a little. I am hoping it is a cursory inspection and we will be whisked through in moments. Nope. This lady is taking everything out of my suitcase, looking through pockets, inspecting zippered pouches, DOP kits (literally emptied it on the table). She got a kick out of the various colored and flavored condoms I had with me. Then, she attacks the brief case. Remember, I am there on vacation….here is what happens next. She checks the PC, no problem! She goes through all the file folders and looks at every piece of paper; No problem! She gets to the front pouch where I keep my Palm and digital cassette recorder. Oops! Why do I have a digital recorder if I am there on vacation? She asks again as I try to explain it is just something I always carry. “But, why do you need this if you are on vacation?” she asks for the third time. I responded I use it when I take photos so I can record the names and places of buildings and locations. That way, I don’t forget what it is I am photographing. She immediately goes for the camera bag and holds up the two cameras and starts going through all the cables and accessories. She walks over to a guy who was standing nearby and they have this little conversation. She comes back over and wants to know what I am photographing. I ask her if it is permissible to take photos of buildings, and scenery on the island. She replies no problem. I quickly produce a business card identifying me as a photographic journalist. She retires to the guy again and a little more conversation ensues. Oh shit, what have I done. What would be the next stage after “pucker?” she returns and starts going through the bag with the goodies. She is pulling out panties, negligees, tops, pants, perfumes, candies and got to the dildo. She asked what it was? I responded “dildo” She said, “como?” I responded, “dildo”! She held it up to her mouth and said,”microphone?” The irony of the question almost made me laugh out loud but I maintained composure and just agreed with her. Remember, I was beyond pucker here!
Back to the briefcase and she is nearing the section with the magazines. She puts her hand on the bag that has them inside and the guy calls her over for something. I grab the briefcase and turn it around and move it to the side of the table where everything has already been inspected. Thank god, when she returned, she went straight for the goody bag again. She was very curious about all the female stuff and I just told her they were gifts for a friend. She said, “lucky friend” She saw that I was quite nervous about this whole episode and began telling me, “tranquillo. This is just her job and I have done nothing wrong.” (as reported before, I inherited a syndrome from a grandparent called familial tremor or essential tremor. I have had it since birth. My hands shake. Well, she saw them shaking and must have assumed I was scared shitless…she wasn’t far off but she was not causing the trembling).

I looked over to the next table where HD is going through pretty much the same inspection and interrogation routine. I am wondering what the fuck is going on here? My inspector actually begins to take notes on a piece of paper. Where am I staying, how much money do I have, why am I in Cuba and she starts in again on the digital recorder. Hell, I almost told her to keep the damn thing if it was a problem. I grabbed a camera, made like I was taking a photo then talked into the recorder and pointed to both devices. She finally got the picture and let the issue die. I started putting all the stuff back into the suitcases and bags. Yes, everything I had with me was literally taken out and placed on the table. As luck would have it, I didn’t do such a great job of re-packing and I couldn’t get everything back in so I had to pull it all out and re-pack for a second time. She watched, amused as I struggled with the problem. “Was I free to go”, I asked. She held up the palm of her hand and said wait there. What is the term for two stages beyond pucker? (where is that eloquent Barnes when I need him?) She goes over and talks to the same guy for a minute or two and returns with a smile on her face. I am free to leave. Meanwhile, HD is still undergoing his inspection. I walk out and have a badly needed cigarette (I had actually quit before the trip but this was over the limit of my endurance). Then I realized my good fortune. She had not found the Playboy (disguised as a Spanish Peoples magazine) and she had assumed the dildo was a microphone. I stood outside Jose Marti airport and grinned.

HD finally exited and we looked at each other in amazement. I said, “so much for never being stopped.” Wouldn’t you know my first trip in would have this little episode. HD had actually asked his inspector what was going on. It seems there were some officials at the airport checking up on the customs people to make sure they were doing their job. It turned out to all be a show for the inspectors. Lesson learned. Don’t take men’s magazines or digital recorders into Cuba.

We walked with our carted luggage to the rental car place. They wanted about 2X what HD had paid only a few weeks before. Seems high season had kicked into gear. We passed. We went to another place and found about the same deal for a lesser car. Same situation at rental place number three. We finally wound up going back to the first place place and rented a brand new (84 miles) Renault. Got our luggage in and off we went to find our Casa. HD knows his way around town pretty well and we only almost missed one turn. We arrived at our desired casa only to find they had no vacancies. We stopped by a hotel to see about a room just for the night but decided against it due to the price. We went to our back up casa and were warmly greeted by the owner whom HD knew. We throw our stuff down, not sure if we will stay here the entire time or not and head out for…..why are you reading this??? Oh yeah, women! But, first we needed to eat. We went to China Town for dinner and HD spears a lovely little mulatto for the evening.

We went back by the hotel in search of my first prize on the island. The bellman is running down the street to find a couple of applicants when I see this very attractive girl standing by our car waving at me. I walk over, and see that she is even prettier and has a gorgeous smile. We negotiate and off we go. Average session but had to get the first nut out of the way. She was passionate but a little hurried and hard core. The event served its purpose well. We dropped the girls nearby on our way to some fun.

HD and I head out to a local disco. We pay our entrance fee and walk into salsa heaven. Women are everywhere gyrating their hips and grabbing our asses as we walk by. The DJ comes over and we chat with him for a while. He rounds up a bevy of prospects for our inspection and I am immediately taken by a stunning little blond wisp no more than 90 pounds. HD is taken by a similar rubia that is no more than 85 pounds.

El Contesto:

I walk back into the dance area hand in hand with my prize for the night. I am thinking trophy caliber here. The DJ is waving me over to his side and suddenly, I find myself in the middle of some kind of contest. Now, my Spanish is not bad but the Cuban Spanish is very difficult to understand so he starts in with English. Myself and three Italian dudes (half my age or younger) are supposed to be acting like male models. One strolls the length of the dance floor, makes a couple of turns and comes back into the group. The other two make similar runs. OK, call me a competitor but, I wasn’t about to let theses three Italians have anything up on the mongering gringo, Sandman. I strutted my stuff, made appropriate poses, turns and even blew a kiss to a lovely chica in the crowd. Then comes the judging. By applause, I am the clear winner but the DJ is having too much fun with this group and he declares a tie between me and one of the Italians.

Next challenge begins. One of the Italians walks out to the middle of the floor and a girl runs over and jumps on him; then another; then another, then another. Four girls; three in front and one in back. He held them for a count of three almost dropping them twice. Now granted, they are all spinners and not a one over 100 pounds but my quick calculating mind realizes this is almost 400 pounds I am expected to hold. The second Italian doesn’t fare as well and he can’t keep them all held for the requisite 3 count. He didn’t do a very good job of….body placement, and kept dropping them. Third guy did OK but the one jumping on his back had to try three times to get there. My turn arrives and I have had the luxury of viewing the others experience. Balance is the key to this deal. First girl runs at me. I bend my knees and place her on my right leg. Second one comes and I put her on my left leg leaving a big gap in the middle. Third girl hops on and is resting quite comfortably with her tits in my face (horrible fate). Fourth girl easily jumps on my crouched back. I hold them for the count of three but don’t let them go. I start walking with them in my arms. Struggle though it was, it was one-upmanship on the youthful Italians and the crowd went crazy. I must admit, I was enjoying the groping I was performing while acting like I was merely trying to balance these girls. Not much I didn’t grab either….he he! I finally put them down (before I fell down) to a raucous round of applause from the audience. The DJ realized he had a player here and claimed another tie.

Next challenge: The Chair. He places a wrought iron chair in the middle of the dance floor, instructs the guy playing music to start it and tells one of the Italians to go act like he is making love to a woman. This guy has no heart for the escapade and merely strokes the back of the chair a little. Second guy rubs the back and front a little and the third guy doesn’t do much more. No way am I going to let these guys outdo me so I approach the chair, sit in it backwards, lick the palm of my hand and do a slow gentle stroke down the backside. The screams from the crowd were almost deafening. I stroked the legs, embraced the back and ran my hands down slowly caressing and scratching. I careened backwards and touched the floor while gingerly gliding my hand up the side, stopping to knead along the way.

Three very well beaten and humiliated Italian youngsters just shook their heads. HD is in the crowd laughing his ass off and egging me on. This time, when the applause meter was used, the three Italians barely even registered. When my turn came, it was deafening. The after shock was pretty amusing too. I doubt there was a woman in the place that didn’t grope me or push her tits into my front or back. I suddenly became the prize. My trophy was pretty pleased to be with me due to all the attention I was getting.

It is time to go. I want this little philly in my cama with her legs wrapped around my ears. We tip the DJ well so he will remember us on future occasions.
Great session with the girl and she is very responsive. Tits a little smaller than I normally like but nice and perky with puffy nipples. Unfortunately, she had to leave before morning so I only got two sessions in with her. HD had his little spinner rubia and well, I’ll let him provide details.

Blondie-20
5.2”, 95 lbs
Body 8.0
Session 8.0

Over to you….you BASTARD

Sandman, EL CAMPEON!!!

sandman,

If you go back to china town, shoot some photos for me, it would be interesting

CN

Sandman
You guys are off to a great start, but when do we get to see the first (and maybe the last, since she appears to have dropped from sight) photos of Adrianna in the buff and spread. I have heard a rumor that you have them.

Photos will be included in upcoming report segments.

This was really a fun and novel way to do a trip report. I would write a day, pass it to HD, then he would write about the day and proceed on to the next one. I would then respond to his second day etc. Same experiences, just different perspectives.

Needs to be read in Reverse thread beginning with "The Plan"

Sman, you and the rest of our fellow Hombres will see more of Adriana in this report than has ever been seen before!

P.S. Ceenotes-Good idea! Will take some photos of China Town on our next visit.

Holy sh*t! LOL. I could imagine your face when the customs agent was going through your stuff. I feel bad enough when the customs people go through my bags and see hundreds of condoms. I can't imagine dildos, etc. (But of course I could say they are microphones now....ha, ha!).

Great report so far. I am eagerly awaiting my arrival to Cuba.

Since I took about a billion pictures on my trip (almost all of Cuba itself, as opposed to the women :-( ), I dug through my library and found a few of ChinaTown:

http://www.amazing.com/cuba/chinatown/

(Also see my trip report, 'Mi Amore Cubana'. I made every newbie mistake in the book, but ... at least I went :-) ).

Hope you enjoy!

D

Microphone? That was HILARIOUS

And....she held it up to her mouth when she said it!!!!! If I hadn't been shaking in my boots, I would have burst out laughing. Took all my composure to just agree and move on to other items.....he he!

Sandman