I left early the next morning, the clouds still hovering about at 1,000. I took off and turned out over the Pacific, climbing to gain altitude and get above the marine layer before shooting up out of the clouds and turning back to climb up over the mountains that form the spine of Central America. Once over those I saw the blue Caribbean spread before me. I went northeast past Panama and the canal. Originally, the canal had been slated for Costa Rica or Nicaragua but the problem was the Costa Ricans wanted part of the control. Since the US was paying for the damn thing Teddy saw no reason to give anyone else control. A lobbyist for the Panama company, trying to bring the canal to Panama, convinced the U.S. Senate that Nicaragua had a volcano about to blow up, not true which says a lot about how our Congress does business, so the Senate voted for Panama in complete ignorance of the facts but in the pay of the lobbyists.
You probably have noticed that those countries were vying to bring the canal to their country even if the US owned it. Of course they were because of the immense amount of US dollars which would be spent to build it and to operate it from then on. All the crap about we imposed on them is fantasy. They all wanted it built in their country, badly wanted it.
Teddy Roosevelt negotiated a deal with Columbia, who owned Panama at the time, but the Columbians reneged on the deal, trying to get a better deal. So Teddy, never one to be dissuaded in his efforts, was able to encourage the Panamanians to rebel against Columbia and he immediately recognized Panama as a new country. In exchange for our support of their rebellion we got the land around the canal. With our navy sitting in Panama, there wasn’t much Columbia could do about it. We had just kicked Spain’s ass in a war and Columbia knew we would mop them up pretty easily. So the canal moved south and we owned it until the buck toothed idiot Jimmy Carter gave it away.
I know it’s pretty popular right now to consider GW Bush as the worst President ever and with his assault on personal liberty and Constitutional rights you can make a pretty good case to rank him last. But at least he did what he tried to do in Iraq. Carter fucked up everything he touched. That’s what you get put an engineer in charge. NEVER put an engineer in charge of anything to do with managing people. Their minds don’t work right for managing people. Engineers are used to formulas that if you do A plus C then B happens every time. With humans, you do A then C and you get B. But the next time the guy had an argument with his wife that morning and you do A then C and get G. What the hell? It’s just the way people are. And it confuses engineers who are used to unbending rules rather than all too fluid people.
Carter is still an idiot and he makes just enough comments to remind anyone with an ounce of brains he is an idiot and he continues to embarrass the Democrats who have to embrace him as one of their own.
Look, we stole Panama fair and square from Columbia and there was no reason to return it, especially to the Panamanians. If we were going to give the canal back to anyone, it should have been the Columbians. The Panamanians have their own country; that was enough as far as I can see. They were happy for a hundred years milking money from the Americans in the canal zone until their military dictator got greedy. Hell with them. I don’t see that their greed was any more precious than our greed and we had the first dibs since we built the damn thing and helped the Panamanians get their own country to boot.
I skirted the coast of Columbia and Venezuela and landed on Curacao. I had chosen to fly through Curacao because it is a Dutch island. The why of that will become apparent soon enough.
A few miles from the airport, there is a little resort, Campo Alegre, Happy Camp. The nice thing is that Curacao is a Dutch colony. The Dutch are funny people; they don’t think sex between consenting adults should be illegal like so many busybodies in the US do. So part of the attraction of Campo Alegre is a variety of beautiful women who want to have sex with a guy. Yeah, the resort is a little pricy but since it does include hot and cold running women, the price really isn’t out of range considering the fringe benefits. As Brendan Behan said, “The big difference between sex for money and sex for free is that sex for money usually costs a lot less.”
There are several of these resorts on Curacao. They import women from South and Central America and Russia for those who don’t like brunettes. The women come for a few months and make more money than they could in a year at home. Since they aren’t professionals or subject to arrest like the girls in the US, they have a freshness and realness that hookers in the US don’t have. The girls want to be doing what they are doing.
I checked into the camp and got a room. Then I was shown around, the pool, the gym, the Internet Café and finally the girls. The girls were lined up on a little bridge outside the gym. As part of your daily rate you got one girl all to yourself. Extra girls cost extra. So if you really wanted to blow the budget you could get as many women as you could handle. If I ever win the lottery… But as it was, one was fine with me. There were two blondes and several other girls including a redhead, though I figured hers to be a dye job. One, a raven haired beauty, could have been a Miss Universe contestant. I chose her and was introduced to Lucia. Her English was better than my Spanish and we got along fine, especially when we went back to my room. She stripped off my clothes, pushed me down on the bed and got me hard with a quick bj, wrapped my whopper in rubber, then fucked my brains out riding me like a South American cowgirl. I could tell she was really enjoying it as well.
Afterwards, we lay in bed and talked. She was from Venezuela and came over to earn money for college. She was working for the summer and I was her first real customer. So far, every guy had taken a blonde. She was considering dying her hair. I thought the guys were idiots if they took a fake blonde over a beauty like Lucia.
When we had recovered I went over to work out in the gym. Lucia went with me. It was a little unusual to have an audience for your workout, but it was nice that she was so beautiful. I admit I worked the machines a little harder than I usually do. I lazed away the rest of the day by the pool recovering from my weight workout and in the Internet Café.
After dinner, Lucia came back to my room. It was a warm evening so we had the patio door open and a soft breeze blew in from the ocean. I took her in my arms and we kissed. Our clothes were quickly scattered on the floor and we fell into the bed. It was my turn this time to be the aggressor.
Her tits were firm but not artificial: fleshy and responsive. I love it when I can feel a woman’s nipples getting hard and growing between my lips. She held my head against her breasts as I licked and sucked them. I had my thigh against her loins and she humped her hips so that I could feel the heat and wetness between her legs.
That drew me like a magnet down there. Her pussy was shaved causing her labia to stand out, engorged and wet. I spread her open and licked up one side and down the other, tasting and smelling her muskiness. I ran my tongue over her pussy, delving deeply into her before moving up and teasing her button. Now, her hips were bouncing around in time with my tongue, touching, then withdrawing from her clitoris. I stuck my tongue into her channel and the muscles grasped at it. She was pulling at my shoulders urging me to fuck her in Spanish. I leveraged up between her legs, lined up my cock, and slowly filled her.
I don’t know if it was because she was an amateur or because she was turned on and didn’t think about it, but she didn’t grab a condom like she had the first time. Maybe our talks had convinced her that I was safe. In any case, I sank into her hot pussy and started the old in and out. I really wish my Spanish was better because she was a talker but it was all in Spanish. I assume she was telling me how great a lover I was… Wouldn’t you? And she was evidencing her enjoyment, bouncing to meet me and urging me on with her hands and lips, kissing and pushing. Gradually we went faster and harder, the sweat breaking out in the warm room, until I felt my climax coming. I held back, and back, and back, until I knew I couldn’t hold back anymore. I let it come and it came blast after blast from deep in my loins. When Lucia felt the first blast it pushed her over the peak into her climax, crying out she dug her fingers into my arms leaving welts as she pushed back on every stroke until we both collapsed in exhaustion, gasping for breath. I rolled to the side and snuggled as she came into my arms. We fell asleep.
I woke with Miss Venezuela next to me, or that’s the way I thought of her. She joined me for breakfast and I had a chance to see some of the other ‘campers.’ Not surprising they were all men, middle aged, have to be to afford this, and most were from Europe.
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Copyright Rod O'Steele © 2009