Adios Muchachos (9 page)

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Authors: Daniel Chavarria

BOOK: Adios Muchachos
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Chapter
Nineteen

The thick, dark-brown plaster was supposed to clean the pores and revitalize the skin. It was applied so that there would be room left for the special treatment around the eyes, the cheek bones, and the temples, where the red lacquer would iron out wrinkles. A great green towel was tied like a turban over the head. Ah, yes, the mirror: a quick inspection of the mask to heighten the satisfaction when it all came off, and then to bond the plastic fingernails and color them with a light lavender enamel.

Yes, darling, tell yourself you’re beautiful, but make certain you don’t spoil those nails. Lift your arms in the air; stretch those fingers as far apart as you can. Yes, we are looking much better; aren’t we?

“Dancing in the dark, da ra ra ra; we’re dancing in the dark …”

Fine, but we mustn’t crack the mask. OK, but we can have a cigarette and get rid of this terrible towel. Oh, dear, the telephone would ring just now …

“Hello? … Ah, yes dear, but speak to me in French or something; English is so harsh. Is Alicia finally coming? … Wonderful! Who with? … No! Victor, you’re a genius … Yes, yes, you’ll see; I have a surprise for you … No, hurry over. I’ll be waiting. Love you.”

Well, isn’t that wonderful? This New Look idea was grand. Let me see, now: body makeup to look mulatto, African wig with tiny braids … Yes, Victor’s going to go wild.

Chapter
Twenty

Alicia walked into the great room with the pond, followed by Cosme.

“Make yourself comfortable; I’ll be right back.”

The young man remained standing, overwhelmed by the luxury and the sheer beauty of the room. Through the bank of windows he could see the gardens and the pool. His face was frozen in an expression of amazement as he continued his inspection of the room: a splendid period vase, a giant projection television,
and this pond!

As he knelt to feel the temperature of the water in the pond in the very center of the room, he noticed a wooden statue about thirty-five inches tall by the side of the pond, as if somehow forgotten. It was a bearded faun with the hind legs of a goat, long pointed ears, a prominent rear end, and a great, black, shiny, erect phallus with a pointed glans. Cosme stared at it in confusion for a moment, then smiled.

Alicia surprised him from behind: “Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Cosme turned around, still a little perplexed, and began to study Alicia as if he were seeing her for the first time. Alicia was barefoot and had her hair up in a bun on top of her head. She had removed her outer clothing and bra and was wearing only a short petticoat and a crocheted net top that barely covered, but did not hide, her breasts. Cosme was practically drooling and could not take his eyes off of her nipples. Alicia kneeled by the faun and softly caressed its thigh.

“A friend of mine gave it to me yesterday,” she confided, now squeezing the faun’s prominent butt. “Don’t you find it hot? Wouldn’t you like to cool off a bit?”

Cosme agreed, as in a dream, still confused: “Well, yes, if you think it’s OK.”

Alicia walked away, poking just the slightest bit of fun at him. “Well, of course it’s all right, silly. Take off your clothes and get in! Would you like a drink?” she asked, absentmindedly rubbing one of her breasts.

Cosme began to undo his shirt buttons. “Good idea! What are you having?”

“A double rum on the rocks.”

“OK, count me in,” Cosme replied, holding his thumb in the air.

Chapter
Twenty-One

And
voilá
: the mulatto Elizabeth. The new Afrobraids were gorgeous; they made Elizabeth sumptuous from every angle, as a cursory inspection in the triptych mirror confirmed.
No wonder the thing cost a thousand German marks.

The light white
col montant
rose over her neck almost to her ears, and the ruffles on the jumper did a lot to embellish her diminutive chest. Yes, it was a little bit too much for summer in Havana, but the air conditioner had been on since early afternoon and Elizabeth was certain that they were not going to feel the heat in the apartment. With the black silk stockings and the fiveinch spikes, Elizabeth’s stocky legs looked rather slim, stupendous.

Let me see now, a few steps back and a sexy over-the-shoulder glance into the mirror. Oh, the girdle is pure torture, but it certainly works; and no one ever said being shapely would be easy. It’s either this or work out like an animal every day.

Yes, yes, yes! A beautiful mulatto Elizabeth. What fun!

I hope he likes it. Let me check my butt again … beautiful. It may not be as perfect as Alicia’s, but as long as I keep this girdle on, I will be the envy of many women half my age.

Half an hour later, Victor’s car pulled into the driveway.

A little bit of Joy behind the earlobes. Thank you, Mr. Patou. An aromatic Cuban cigarette. Thank you, Mr. Cohiba (if there was anyone by that name). And off to meet Victor in a cloud of Cuban smoke and French roses.

“Wonderful,” commented Victor, who was waiting at the foot of the stairs.

“Do you like my wig?”

“Marvelous,” Victor insisted, running his hand lightly over the silken texture of the braids.

Elizabeth strutted around imitating a thing called a
pimp roll
she once saw in an American movie, while Victor, genuinely pleased with this transformation, was all smiles and compliments. He was even beginning to feel the onset of a premature erection.

Victor took Elizabeth’s hand and raised it high to do a whirl as if they were ballroom dancing. In the background, the music of Michel Legrand.

They had their first superficial kiss.

And after a few more whirls, Victor took Elizabeth by the waist and buried himself in a hot, prolonged kiss. Elizabeth could feel his hardness through his pants and pressed him closer, closer.

“Wow, you really did like the wig!”

Just then they heard three chirps from the buzzer installed in the adjoining house.

“Hey, that’s Alicia.”

“It can’t be her,” Victor mumbled, looking at his watch. “It’s only 8:45; she’s early!”

“If I had that piece of black Adonis on my agenda, I’d be even earlier!”

Victor raised his arm with an I’ll-give-you-the-back-of-my-hand gesture, as Elizabeth ducked with a laugh and began to draw the plush red velvet drapes, holding them with thick cord tiebacks on either side of the armoire that extended the width of the wall behind the cornice.

Swinging the sofa around to face the fake armoire, Victor hurried to bring the liquor cart alongside while Elizabeth rolled back the louvered folding doors that revealed Cosme crouching at the edge of the pond.

The back of the one-way mirror was not completely clear; it had a whitish haze and a certain shine. Nor was it completely one-way. If the mirror side was dark and the other side brightly lit, one could in fact see in the opposite direction. But with the dim lights in Elizabeth’s alcove and the bright lights in the pond room, the view was now crystal clear and the subjects, superb.

The two large rooms, now enjoined by the secret screen, gave the impression of a wide-open space and the fresh aura of an oasis garden.

Cosme began to take off his shoes, his shirt lying in a heap by a planter. As he revealed more and more of himself, it became apparent that this really was a perfect specimen: unblemished teeth that an orthodontist would envy, tender eyes, a broad back tapering to a narrow waist without a hint of fat, a long torso and limbs, delicate hands. Pure elegance.

Elizabeth took in the beauties of the mulatto, who was now down to his white thong, a thin gold chain around his neck, and another chain with red beads. Slowly, almost cautiously, he slipped into the water and kneeled so that the water came up to his chin.

Victor examined the wooden idol with unusual interest. He approached the glass to get a closer look. The statue had an extremely thick penis about six inches long. Compared to the statue’s total height of around thirty-five inches, the phallus was enormous. The faun had a mischievous smile on his face, as if he were proud of his gifts.

On seeing it, Elizabeth let out a guffaw like a man hearing a dirty joke and dropped onto the couch to witness the show.

“I wonder where that crazy girl found the statue,” Victor commented, dropping a couple of ice cubes into his whiskey.

“Bring me a martini,” Elizabeth purred. “Mariana mixed a pitcher and left it in the refrigerator. And use the Greek olives.”

When Victor disappeared behind the curtain, Elizabeth took advantage of his absence to fix her jock strap. She would have to find another one because this one was too tight. She hurried to get herself in order.

Shit, every time I cross my legs I damn near rip my balls off.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Alicia entered the visual field. She noticed Cosme, who was standing in the water wearing a thong.

“Come on, guy, don’t be ridiculous. Haven’t you ever gone skinny-dipping with someone you like?”

Cosme looked at her suspiciously, more than a little worried. “What if someone comes … ?”

Alicia was enjoying his confusion. She stood tall beside the pond, certain of her beauty, and swayed just slightly with her hand on her hip—looking at him, mocking him, in total control. “If somebody comes, they get a free lesson on how to screw a dancer silly … or wouldn’t you like that?”

The brightest retort Cosme could muster was a chuckle and, “Do you want to do it right now, in the water?”

“No, we’ll do that later. I think I’d rather begin over here … Come on over, silly.”

Alicia sat with her legs spread wide and placed a small stool between them. Cosme got out of the water gracefully, years of training as a dancer taking control of the otherwise very inept young man. It wasn’t that he was a virgin or anything like that, but he had always had other dancers, the girls in the neighborhood and the usual fare that was par for the course. He was totally unprepared for this surprise encounter with an immensely rich blonde who sounded Cuban but evidently had to be a foreigner.

As he approached, Alicia shed the little cape, which no longer played any useful role, and beckoned to him with one index finger, pointing to the stool with the other. Standing before her, waiting for the next cue, he felt her hands tugging at his thong and tapping his legs for him to lift his feet.

Alicia expressed admiration of his endowment with a pronounced arching of her eyebrows and an exclamation from the bottom of her soul: “Oh, my God, it’s beautiful … Come here and have a seat like a good little boy.”

The action by the pond was beginning to drive Victor and Elizabeth crazy. They absorbed every murmur, every sigh, the subtle sounds of flesh on flesh, growing more and more excited. Becoming one with the players, they twisted a little this way and a little that way, panting, gasping, biting each other, pain and pleasure blending, flowing and blending …

“Oh, Vic, will you look at that.” Elizabeth’s voice had descended to a husky whisper of urgent lust.

Just then the telephone in the pond room rang.

“That must be the sculptor; he said he was going to call.”

“Oh, please don’t stop; please let it ring.”

“You’re so impulsive; watch out that you don’t have a heart attack.” Alicia reached for the telephone. “Jorge? Oh, you’re a dear … Yes, I love it. It’s beautiful. What did you use to make it so shiny? Vaseline? … For me? … Well aren’t you a horny little pig? … Yes, I’m alone.” She winked up at Cosme and alternated between kisses and chatter on the phone. “Well, I’m not exactly eating, but it’s similar. Bet you can’t guess …”

On the other side of the mirror, Elizabeth was imitating every one of Alicia’s moves, and Victor, spread-eagled and practically falling off the couch, just let her do her thing as Alicia’s telephone dialogue drove him further up the wall.

“No, baby, it’s not candy. In fact, it’s a little salty.”

In his ecstasy, Cosme completely missed the joke.

“Yeees, very nutritious … I don’t think I could live without this … Warmer, warmer … The shape? Well, it’s like a hotdog, but bigger … and fatter … That’s it. Congratulations! You won the Teddy bear … I’ll say; it’s delicious! Now, that was none of your business … Ciao.”

Alicia broke the connection, laughing in unison with her soul mate, the faun. Looking up at Cosme, she noticed that his eyes were already disappearing into the back of his head.

“Not now! Wait a little,” she said, backing away from him. Alicia then began to caress the macrocephalic shaft on the mischievous faun.

Transfixed by this latest madness of Alicia’s, the three spectators followed the steady oscillations of the thin white hand with the emerald ring. All three felt the nimble playing of those restless fingers on themselves.

Hunched over on his thighs, Cosme caressed Alicia’s breasts, watching her hands in the mirror before them.

Working the unctuous member of the faun with one hand, Alicia signaled to Cosme to move to the couch in front of her. He sat on the couch and spread his legs in anticipation, hoping that this was what she had in mind. Alicia got down on all fours and, continuing her work with the faun, let her lips begin to play around the tip of Cosme’s erection.

Cosme helped her out of the thong she had kept on to increase his anticipation. Her magnificent blushing ass contrasted with the dark tones of the carven image of the faun.

Between kisses and nibbles, Alicia bit her lips, sighed, turned her eyes. There was nothing false about her performance. She was a genuine artist, one who enjoyed and suffered every instant of creation. This was a woman for whom sex was not a profession, but a divine vocation, a celestial calling, her manifest destiny.

She now ran the tip of his phallus over her eyes and her brow. She smelled it and licked it like some luscious tropical fruit yearning to give up its nectar. Never breaking the rhythm of her hand on the faun, Alicia added a general swaying of her whole body, and as her lips slid along the long and the thick, up and down on Cosme, she flexed her body, raising her butt to bring it into contact with the erect faun. Still kissing Cosme, she pushed back the tiniest bit with every sway, dilating herself methodically with little twists against the tip of the anxious anointed phallus of the faun. And five minutes later, ecstatically impaled by the laughing faun, her hips moved in the tight rotation she had so often tried to teach Victor, who was now fearing he would not be able to wait for Elizabeth: “Oh, god, I know I’m going to die if I don’t come soon. She’s crazy.”

And there was Elizabeth saying she wanted a faun just like that one; and when Victor saw Alicia turn her hind quarters toward Cosme and take him in, replacing the faun, he could no longer control himself and exploded with an orgasm that Elizabeth received with cries of pure joy. “Yes! yees!! yeees!!! yeeeeeeees!!!! yeeeeeeeeeees!!!!! Oh, come, come Vic, come my darling, now Vic, noooow, yeeesssssss, ohhhhhhhhhhh, ohhhhh, ohhh, ohh, oh …”

In his final orgiastic convulsions, Victor ripped off the thousand-dollar wig with the braids and ivory beads, revealing the contrast of the golden mulatto body makeup with the white freckled skin of Elizabeth’s bald head.

Even with the dark make-up, Hendryck Groote had not been able to cover the birthmark behind his ear.

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