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From: Strickland83 <strickland83@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} After Fidel - Chapter 4
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Date: Sat, 14 Aug 2004 23:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "After Fidel - Chapter 4 ASSM.txt" begin>

Author: Strickland83
Title: After Fidel
Part: Chapter 4
Summary: Sometimes, a once in a lifetime opportunity comes along more
than once.  The question is - did she wait for him?
Keywords: MF, rom, mast, cons, oral
Revision: 1.0

   Web Site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/strickland83/www

   This story is Copyright (c) 2004 by Strickland83.  All rights reserved.
Leah Coulter appears courtesy of Nick Scipio.  The Summer Camp characters
and universe are Copyright (c) 2002-2004 Nick Scipio.

   After Fidel By Strickland83

   Chapter 4 - Wind of Change

   I looked around frantically.  There was debris, small bits of plaster
and glass mostly, that had come in through the open door.  The light coming
from the corridor was a lot brighter now.  On the table next to the door
was Felicita's St.  Christopher medal that she had taken off the night
before.  Across the room, the television, shielded in its location from the
blast, was still on.  A worried Leah Coulter was shown speaking in a
telephone handset now.

   "Chris?" I could hear from the telephone in my hand.

   "I'm still here, Leah.  Give me a minute." I think I sounded somewhere
between panic and crying.  I looked to the right and saw Felicita lying on
the ground.  Her head was moving.  My heart thudded as I knelt next to her.
I wanted to grab her and pick her up but I forced myself to only touch her
gently.  "Felicita?" I said.

   "Ohhh," was her reply.  At least she was alive.

   I felt ripped open.  I cursed myself for not forcing her to take shelter
in the basement.  She had no business in a war zone.  Then I realized she
had more cause to be here than me.  This was her country.  Still, she
wouldn't have been here if it weren't for me.  Felicita turned over and
looked up at me.  She looked scared but unhurt.

   "What, what happened?" she asked.  Hearing her voice, even though it was
a little unsteady, lessened my fear.

   "Take it easy.  You might be hurt.  Don't try to move."

   Instead of heeding my warning, she slowly turned over on her knees, then
sat up.  She looked dazed but there was no blood visible.  Seeing her
possibly unhurt, I remembered the others.  I had heard Brian after the
blast but not Stacy.

   "Stacy?" I called.

   "She's over here," Brian said.  His voice was coming from between the
wall and the bed.  His head popped up.  "She's all right, but pretty
freaked out."

   "I think we all are," I answered.

   Felicita was standing up now.  She looked all right, just dusty like the
rest of us.  I looked back at the door, trying to figure out what had
happened.  Felicita gripped my hand and stood.  I gripped her hand
fiercely, not wanting to let her go again.  Pulling her along, I walked
towards the door.  Stopping at the table, I scooped up the medal with my
other hand that still held the telephone receiver.  I pushed the medal into
Felicita's face.

   "Here.  Put this on - and don't take it off again!"

   I was rougher than I intended but she understood.  She smiled as she
took the medal and put it around her neck.

   I held the telephone up to my ear.

   "Leah, we're all right.  It seems there was an explosion in the front of
the hotel, on the side away from the waterfront."

   Hearing no one was injured made her sound relieved.  "Can you tell what
caused the explosion?  Did the tanks fire on the hotel?"

   "No, the tanks are on the other side of the hotel.  I'm going to put the
phone down and go take a look."

   "All right.  Be careful."

   I put down the phone and looked in Brian's direction.  He was holding
the hand of an almost hysterical Stacy.  I really preferred he would come
with me rather than Felicita.  "Felicita, would you..." She nodded and went
to Stacy's side, sitting on the floor.  I motioned to Brian.  He let go of
Stacy's hand and she turned wide-eyed to Felicita.  Stacy was still
whimpering softly.

   Brian and I stepped into the hall.  The door to the room across the hall
was open.  The wrong way.  It had blown through its frame and was in the
hall.  Inside the room, we could see the windows had been blown in, taking
the curtains with them.  That is why we could see light.  I made a point to
step carefully, testing the floor for weakness as I moved to what remained
of the window.  The glass fragments made a crunching side as we stepped on
them.  The floor still felt solid.

   The wall was intact.  The damage was done by the glass that had blown
in. Looking out the jagged hole in the middle of what had been a glass
window, I could see a still smoking crater in the ground in front of the
hotel.

   Brian looked at me.  "You've been in this situation before.  I haven't.
What do you think caused it?"

   "It looks like an artillery shell.  I just have no idea who fired it."

   It was then the thought struck me that this was supposed to be Gustavo's
room.  If he had come over earlier with us, he might have been in his room
when the shell struck.

   There was another whoosh and a second explosion.  This one was on the
waterfront side, and sounded more like a splash.  Screams came from my
room. As I turned to run back across the hall, Brian grabbed my arm.  I
tried to pull away but he pulled back hard.  He was pointing out the broken
window.

   "What the hell do you make of that?"

   I looked down to the street.  Down there was the strangest thing I think
I had ever seen.  Hundreds of people, civilians, were screaming and running
towards the hotel.  They were armed.  Some had rifles, some brandished only
clubs fashioned from lumber.  They were running down the streets, running
to the waterfront.  I shook my head, then ran back across the hall.  I
wanted to check on the women and see what was going to happen when those
people met the tanks.

   Felicita and Stacy were fine.  By the look of things, the second shell
had hit the water.  Stacy was sobbing now but no longer screaming.  She was
scared but no one was hurt.  I picked up the phone.  I could see Leah on
the television.  In a small window, there was a reporter.  He must have
been using a satellite phone.  A pixellated slow-moving picture accompanied
his voice.  I said, "Hello?" into the phone.

   Ed's voice answered.  "Chris!  Are you all right?"

   "We're fine.  I think someone's firing artillery shells at those tanks.
One fell short and hit the lawn in front of the hotel.  The other one
overshot and landed in the harbor."

   "We'll cut back to you in a moment.  You have a better vantage point in
the hotel.  We have a news crew down the street from you, next to the
former U.  S.  Embassy.  They're doing a report right now.  I want to send
a runner from the van to bring you a satellite phone in case your phone
service gets cut.  Where are you in the hotel?"

   I told him my room number and he told me someone would be there in a few
minutes.  I asked Brian to turn up the volume on the TV so I could hear the
report.

   "Turn the volume back down when we go back to you, all right?" Ed asked.

   "I will.  I'm just trying to find out what's going on out there."

   Ed chuckled.  "Everybody is expecting you to know.  Right now, you are
the source of news coming out of Cuba.  We were just filling in with the
reporter until you came back to the phone."

   "That reminds me!  Tell your crew to be careful.  There are hundreds of
armed civilians heading towards the tanks.  I think it's going to get nasty
on the street."

   "Shit!" Ed exclaimed.  He told someone to tell that to the crew.  "I'm
going to go back to you now.  We need them to get inside their van.  Turn
down your TV.  Standby."

   I told Brian to turn down the volume, which he did.  The reporter was
still talking on the television when I heard Leah's voice on the phone say,
"Back to you, Chris.  What do you see from the hotel?" That delay took some
getting used to.

   I started by repeating what I had told Ed about the artillery shells.  I
speculated that the military had split into two factions, but was careful
to explain that I didn't know for sure.  I then told about the civilians
converging on the tanks.  By now, we could see them coming around the hotel
and heading for the column of tanks.

   "This is awful!  It's going to be a massacre!" I warned.  I continued to
report what I witnessed from the window.

   The armed locals ran into the road ahead of the tanks.  I expected to
see them run over or gunned down.  Instead, an amazing thing transpired. 
The column of tanks came to a halt.  The men stood there in the road,
brandishing rifles, clubs and even pitchforks.  They were holding the tanks
at bay.  Neither side moved.  I praised the bravery of the men on the
street.  I wondered what was going through the minds of the tankers in the
first vehicle.  It was eerily reminiscent of the Tiananmen Square massacre
almost exactly sixteen years before.  Then, a hatch opened on the first
tank.  I gasped.  I expected it was to man the machine gun.  I was very
wrong.  Two people poured out the hatch.  The driver also left through his
hatch, abandoning the tank and running to the south, away from the
waterfront.  Other soldiers started, a few at a time, then more, then many,
all doing the same thing.  They were running away.  I spoke without fully
realizing that my words were being broadcast.  The scene was su rreal.  We
were all mesmerized by what was transpiring.  I speculated that the
soldiers refused to fire on so many of their countrymen.  Either that or
they realized they would have to face the angry mob on foot when they
finally did run out of fuel and ammunition.  Whatever it was, something
changed the course of Cuban history right in front of our eyes.

   As other news crews managed to get on the air, reports came in from all
over the city that similar events were taking place.  The people had
decided they would not allow another Castro to rule their land with an iron
fist.  They chose the moment of uncertainty to strike back.  The military,
under Raul, became fractured.  Bit by bit, desertions spread.  What at
first promised to be a repeat of the Tiananmen Square massacre instead came
to resemble more of the Velvet Revolution of Czechoslovakia.  The mob
allowed the disarmed soldiers to flee unharmed.  I stayed on the phone with
Leah Coulter, my reports combined with those of their reporters.  My
description of the showdown between the tanks and the mob was illustrated
by video from the truck near the embassy.

   By the end of the day, what in days to come the media would tout as the
Battle of Havana or even The Tobacco War came to an end.  With hardly any
shots being fired, farmers and workers defeated the military.  In a way, it
was fitting.  The Communist Party always portrayed itself as the Workers'
Party.  In the end, it was the workers who prevailed over the Communist
Party.

   The runner from CNN delivered the satellite phone but we never needed
it. Those two shells were the only two fired in our direction. 
Fortunately, the aim was way off and the only damage was superficial.  The
runner carried a digital camera and took a few pictures of the four of us
in our hotel room.  Those were transmitted to CNN and appeared on the
broadcast, replacing my coat and tie publicity photo.  We didn't look very
neat, but it was a more realistic depiction of what was going on.

   When the hotel staff, who had been huddled in the basement, got word of
our broadcast, they brought food up to us throughout the day.  They also
promised to move us to an undamaged section of the hotel.  We were well
taken care of from that point on.

   It was late in the day when I finally signed off.  Leah had also managed
to stay on all day, far beyond her normal three-hour shift on the air. 
When I was not live, I learned a lot about how the broadcast worked by
talking to Ed and his crew.  I also got word that the airport had been
closed when the military started to move in.  Gustavo's flight never left
Mexico.

   My last conversation on the air was speaking with Leah about what was
next in store for Cuba.

   "Now that we can see a bright future for Cuba, some prophetic words come
to mind," I told her.

   "I'd like to hear them," Leah replied.

   I recited the quote I had once told Felicita.  "If there must be
happiness, if there must be love, if there must be smiles, it can only be
with freedom and dignity."

   "That's beautiful," Leah commented.

   "It seems like we can expect freedom and dignity now, so happiness, love
and smiles can flourish."

   "Whom are you quoting?" she asked.

   "Those words were spoken by Fidel Castro," I said

   Leah laughed.  "I'm sorry.  I never expected him to say something like
that."

   "It is unexpected.  He always saw a better life for his country.  Now
that things are changing, that vision may come to pass, just in a different
way than he ever imagined."

   "We're going to wrap up our special coverage of the Crisis in Cuba for
now and return to our regular programming.  Any parting words, Chris?"

   "Viva Cuba Libre."

   "Yes, long live Free Cuba.  Thank you for joining us today and being the
voice of the Battle of Havana for our viewers.  This is Leah Coulter for
CNN Headline News.  We will resume our regular programming after this
break."

   After that, Ed came back on the phone and thanked me.  He told me to
hold on to the satellite phone for a few days in case CNN needed to contact
me again.  He also said "someone else" might be calling, but didn't
elaborate.  We chatted for a few minutes more about what was happening
before we hung up.

   I took a deep breath after the handset was finally back on the cradle.
Felicita, who had been at my side most of the day, was holding onto my
right arm.  She rubbed it lovingly.  I put my left hand in my pocket, as I
often do when I'm thinking, and felt some coins.  The weight of the coins
was different from what I was used to.  I pulled them out.  They were
Cuban. I held one up, examining the crest.  "Palm trees," I muttered.

   "Palm trees?" Brian asked.

   "Palm trees.  The ones in the front of the hotel.  After all this is
said and done, they may be the only casualties of the fall of communism in
Cuba.  Who would have ever thought?"

   My words hung in the air for a time.

   I looked over to where Brian and Stacy were sitting on the end of the
bed.  "How are you doing, Stacy?"

   "Better.  I'm sorry I -"

   I held up my hand to stop her.  I walked over to where she was sitting
and leaned over.  With a conspiratorial glance, I told her (just loud
enough for the others to hear), "I wanted to scream and run for cover too.
I didn't only because a lot of the free world was listening in on that
phone." She laughed and we all joined in.

   We were just about to head down to the lobby to see about dinner and
moving to another room when the satellite phone rang.  I looked at Brian.

   "It's your phone," he said.

   "It's CNN's phone."

   "Maybe they're calling for you," Felicita offered.

   I answered the phone.  It was a woman's voice.  She asked for me by
name.

   "This is he," I told her.

   "Please hold for the President," she said.  Then there was a click.

   "Christopher!" a voice began.  It was a voice I had heard on the news
many times.  "I want to personally thank you for what you did today for
Cuba.  You did it for the Cubans, for America and for freedom loving people
all over the world."

   "Mr.  President, I didn't do anything.  I just -"

   When I spoke those words, Brian and Stacy got wide-eyed.  Felicita
didn't understand the implications of "Mr.  President".

   "Now, don't sell yourself short.  It took a lot of guts to stand there
and be the eyes and ears, especially with bombs going off.  You are an
extraordinary person.  I'm proud of you."

   "Thank you, sir, only I'm nothing but ordinary.  Sometimes, ordinary
people just fall into extraordinary circumstances."

   "Perhaps," he said.  "I personally approved your visa last week.  You
came highly recommended by the State Department.  Today, I'm very glad I
did it.  You helped the democratic rebels gain a major foothold.  It also
didn't hurt that an American citizen was the voice the world listened to
today on CNN as the battle came to its surprising conclusion.  You've done
a tremendous service to your country and your world.  It also won't hurt
your company's chances of success in the local market there.  Good luck to
you from a very grateful nation."

   "Thank you, sir.  I'm honored to be of service."

   "You've gained a measure of fame today.  If you were Cuban, boy, you
could run for President of Cuba right now."

   "Politics don't interest me, sir.  I'm a businessman."

   "That's too bad.  You showed a lot of courage today, and you spoke like
a statesman.  Now, I have to go be a politician, so good luck to you.  I
hope we get to meet someday."

   "Thank you, sir.  That would be quite an honor."

   With that, the call ended.

   "Was that really -" Brian started.

   I nodded.  "Yes," I said, laughing a little.  "It really was.  He was
watching."

   Felicita looked confused.  I explained what had just happened.  She
smiled when she understood.  "You are famous now, yes?"

   "I don't know if that's true, but receiving that phone call was quite an
honor."

   Realizing that the power could fail at any time, we all decided to get
cleaned up while it was still daylight.  The bathrooms were undamaged. 
When Felicita and I were clean and dressed, our friends returned from doing
the same.

   "Now, let's go see about a clean place to sleep tonight," I said,
clapping my hands.  Plaster and glass still littered the floor.  We headed
downstairs for the lobby.

   Things were calming down some outside.  The staff had come out of the
basement, but the doors in the lobby were locked.  A doorman was standing
watch by each door.  When we were spotted, there was a commotion among the
staff.  It seems they had seen the coverage on CNN and were very impressed
that I had been on television.  Frankly, I was rather surprised myself.  I
had never expected to be the center of attention or even the "Voice of the
Battle of Havana", as Leah Coulter had proclaimed me.  We were told our
things would be moved to an undamaged section of the hotel while we were
having dinner.  We were escorted into the dining room and fed.  There
weren't many guests in the hotel but almost all of them were in the dining
room.  We were all being strongly encouraged to stay inside until at least
morning.

   Considering what had happened that day, the service and the food were
both excellent.  Perhaps my table received a little more attention than the
others.  Even the other guests kept looking our way.  A few even ventured
over to meet me.  I quickly introduced the rest of the table and explained
that we were all part of the broadcast.  Many of the people remembered
seeing the picture of all of us on TV, but it was me they wanted to meet. I
was uncomfortable with the sudden celebrity.  I just wanted to fade into
the background and spend a quiet night with Felicita.

   We were just finishing dinner when the power failed.  I'm surprised it
managed to stay on all day for us.  Candles appeared, the flickering light
adding a romantic atmosphere.  Dinner was on the house given the
circumstances.  Since the power was out and we couldn't go outside, we
decided to head back to our rooms.  I picked up a bottle of Havana Club in
the lobby.  The cigar and liquor shop had stayed open late to encourage us
to stay inside the hotel.  The nightclub was closed because the performers
hadn't shown up, and the inside bar was closed because its outside walls
were all glass.

   We were given new keys at the front desk and a bellman, carrying
flashlights, escorted us up the stairs to our new rooms.  We still had
adjoining rooms and a third room was being held for Gustavo.

   The rooms were identical in layout to the rooms we had before.  They
were at the other end of the hotel, away from where the windows had been
blown out.  Everything had been placed where it had been in the other room.
We had a few drinks with Stacy and Brian, rum and Coke, to celebrate the
day's victory.  Stacy went into their room and came back with a change of
clothes for Felicita.  I thanked her and said that we were going to
Felicita's home the next day to get her things.  Stacy and Brian went to
their room, the doors were closed between our rooms, and we were finally
all alone.

   I had a sudden thought.  I jumped up and opened the nightstand drawer.
Yep, they were thorough.  Inside were the boxes of condoms I had put in
away in the same location in the other room.  Felicita saw what I was
looking at and smiled.

   "I hadn't thought of that yet.  I think we're going to need them
tonight."

   I turned to my lovely lady and took her in my arms.

   "Do you know what I want to do right now?" I asked her.

   "Turn off the flashlight and get to know each other in the dark?"

   "Yes, exactly," I told Felicita.

   When the flashlight was off, it was really dark.  There were no street
lights outside to cast a glow.  I reached out and felt the delicate body I
was seeking.  Her hands found me and started undressing me.  It was that
slow, sensual ritual like on our first night together.  The power was out,
we had nowhere to go, and I was going to sleep with my love.  That was fine
with me.  She took her time undressing me, kissing each newly exposed part
of my body.  When I tried to undo her clothes, she pushed my hands away
with a giggle, but not a word was spoken.

   It was agonizing slowness, but I was finally naked in the dark. 
Felicita had kissed me from head to toe.  I was hard.  She couldn't see it
but she certainly felt it.  When she was done, she hugged me.  Then she
went limp, still pressed against me.  That was my signal to begin.

   Mimicking her, I slowly removed her clothes.  I started with her shirt,
pulling it over her head so slowly and gently that I could hear the cotton
slipping against her skin.  When her shirt was tossed aside, I ran my hands
all over her back, chest and arms.  I followed with light kisses.  The only
sound she made was a light "Mmmm" from time to time.

   Once I was satisfied I had covered her skin with kisses, I moved behind
her.  I slowly ran my hands up her back to her bra strap.  Once there, my
fingers slid gradually to the center, savoring the silkiness of her skin as
I did.  I worked the clasp, taking at least two minutes to ease it apart. I
could see her outline in the darkness, not much more.  A dim glow was
coming from the stars.  On the horizon, the moon was rising and gradually
giving us more light.  I gently slid her bra down each arm, trailing it
with kisses.

   The bra was dropped and I put my lips to her neck.  I could feel goose
bumps appearing on her skin as I kissed.  I smiled, proud of the effect I
was having on her.  I kissed down to each breast, licking and sucking the
skin until I reached the nipple.  Each nipple was treated to sucking and
light biting until I could feel her starting to squirm.

   When I felt I had tortured her enough, I hugged her.  The warmth of our
bodies pressed together was exquisite.  It was going to be warm in the
hotel without air conditioning, but I didn't think she'd mind.  Still
pressing my body to hers, I slid down to my knees, making her nipples rub
against my body as I moved.  She moaned, but didn't speak.

   I felt around the waist of her jeans.  I undid the belt and discovered
that there was a snap instead of a button.  I gripped the material around
the snap with my teeth and pulled it apart.  Returning to her pants, I
reached out with my tongue and extended the tiny handle of the zipper, then
pulled it down with my teeth as well.  I moved so slowly that the sound of
each tooth of the zipper could be heard.  I ran my hands inside the open
waistband of her pants, feeling ample skin around her thong.  I put one
hand down the front, not far enough to reach her slit but far enough to rub
the top of her mound.  She groaned in frustration.  I think by that point
she was starting to regret teaching me this ritual.

   I pulled her jeans down an inch at a time, pausing each time.  She was
getting anxious but I wasn't about to give in.  Even though I was as
anxious as her, I held my ground.  My cock was impatient but, for once, my
other head prevailed.  It probably took ten minutes to work her pants off.
I was ready for her when she tried to step out of them and put my hands on
her feet, pushing the denim down with my face when I wasn't kissing her
legs.

   Once I had her jeans off, I very slowly started at one ankle and ran my
wet tongue up the inside of one leg to the leg opening of her thong.  Then
I moved to the other side.  My face passed over her panties, close enough
to smell her arousal but not close enough to make contact.  My dick
twitched when I smelled how wet she was.  Next, the other leg got the same
treatment.

   Finally, I was ready to remove her thong.  I surprised her by licking
the wet front, pressing my tongue hard against her pussy.  She gasped and
grabbed my head, pulling me harder against her body.  I let her.  Then, I
grabbed one side of the waistband with my teeth, grazing her skin as I did.
I pulled the waistband down a short distance, then ran my tongue across her
belly to the other side to repeat the maneuver.  I went back and forth like
this, taking an eternity to remove her last piece of clothing.

   She was so wet that the crotch, small as it was, stuck to her cunt lips.
I used my tongue as a wedge to separate her from her panties.  She was
getting a little unsteady on her feet as she tried to spread her legs
farther apart to give me easy access to her wet slit.  I continued my slow
torture until she was as naked as I was.  I stood slowly, pressing first my
face then my chest and finally my dick against her pussy.  When I was
standing in front of her, she licked my face, tasting her own juices.  Then
she kissed me.  She moved her hips, causing her cunt lips to slide against
my hard-on.  I could feel how hot and wet she was as my dick was bathed in
her juices.

   Our hands now roamed freely over each other as we held each other in the
darkness and kissed.  I spoke now, whispering a number into her ear.  My
cheek was against hers as I hugged her and I could feel her smile.  She
knew what I meant.  Still holding on to each other, we shuffled carefully
across the floor until we found the bed.  We separated and I positioned
myself on my back.  She reached out to steady herself and climbed on top of
me.  I put my hands on her ass and pulled her down onto my face.  I stuck
out my tongue and tasted her wetness, drinking in the juices she was oozing
for me.  Meanwhile, she was tasting the precum on the end of my dick,
licking me and making me squirm.

   We approached each other slowly, tentatively, guided by touch, taste and
smell.  In time, I was eating her pussy as she sucked my shaft.  The touch
of her mouth on my dick was heaven.  I was involuntarily moving my hips up
and down, fucking her mouth.  She was moving her hips as well, responding
to the stimulation of my tongue on her most sensitive areas.  I enjoyed
tasting her, feeling her, exploring her.  It was different doing this in
almost complete darkness.  Without sight, the other senses were enhanced.

   In time, I felt her muscles stiffen.  She stopped sucking me and lifted
her head to cry out as she came in my mouth.  I increased my efforts to
make her orgasm even more acute.  I drank in the gift of her juices,
returning the favor by caressing her clit with licks of my tongue.

   When her peak had passed, she returned to my dick with a renewed
vengeance.  She was sucking, licking and stroking me with abandon.  I knew
I couldn't hold out much longer.  I also knew I was powerless to slow or
stop her if the feelings got too intense.  That thought was the last straw
that pushed me over the edge.  I dug my fingernails into the cheeks of her
ass, pulled hard until her pussy was pressed against my upper chest, and
spurted into her mouth.  This time it was me crying out as I came, filling
her mouth with my sperm.  She swallowed it all, using her tongue on my dick
as I crested.

   "That was so good," I said into the darkness when I had caught my
breath.

   I felt my dick leaving her mouth.  She swallowed loudly as she lifted
her head and said, "Thank you."

   She crawled off me, cuddling up to my side.  Her face was next to mine;
her breath smelled like sperm.  I'm sure mine smelled like her pussy.  We
held each other close like that and my mind drifted.  Our hearts were
slowing down after the exertion of orgasm.  I could feel her heartbeart as
well as my own.

   "You know," I said quietly, "we are probably among the first people to
do that in a free Cuba in over 45 years."

   "It's a great way to celebrate the new order," was her response.

   "Life will change.  Not all at once and not always for the best, but it
will be better overall.  Cubans will be free."

   "And there will be happiness, love and smiles," she whispered.

   I squeezed my arm tighter around her and she kissed my cheek.  Then, I
got up out of bed and stood at the window.  The moon had risen and there
was enough light to see shapes on the highway.  The tanks still stood where
they had been abandoned.  I couldn't see a single person moving about.  The
city lights were out as well.  Only the glow from the moon illuminated the
scene.  I raised my hand and pointed to the north.

   "Out there is a nation that cares about this land.  It will offer
guidance, but will not step in with force.  You can choose your future. 
Make it a good choice." I'm not sure if I was speaking to Felicita or to
Cuba in general.

   I heard a rustling on the bed.  Felicita joined me at the window.  I
loved feeling her naked body pressed against my side.  She looked out the
window, and then turned to me.  She put her arms around my neck as she
moved in front of me.  I relished the feel of her against me.  Her breasts
pressed softly into my chest.  Her smooth legs brushed against my legs.  I
could feel her bush against my still wet dick.  I was flaccid now but I
could feel that starting to change.  She looked into my eyes.  I couldn't
see her face as well as she could see mine because her back was to the
moonlight.

   "I choose you as my future," she told me.  She kissed me.  It was a warm
kiss, full of passion and full of promise for the future.  If I had doubted
it before, I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
I felt myself melting into her embrace, my strength slipping away as I
tried to press my body against her luscious curves.  There in the
moonlight, we pledged our love to each other as our bodies melded into one.
We kissed for a long time, lit by moonlight.  There was an old movie called
Moon Over Miami, about women looking for rich husbands.  Tonight, that same
moon was also over a free Havana.  I wanted so desperately to be Felicita's
prize.

   I took her by the hand and escorted her back to the bed.  The springs
squeaked lightly as we crawled onto the mattress.  I pressed a finger into
her wet pussy, sliding in and out.  She responded by grasping my dick,
already partially hard, and stroking it.  I quickly responded to her touch
and was soon hard enough to penetrate her.  I moved away and retrieved a
condom, putting it on as she touched herself and watched me by moonlight.

   When I was ready, she laid back with spread legs.  One hand was still
rubbing the top of her slit.  I loved how she was so open about touching
herself in front of me.  On my knees, I crawled into position and leaned
forward.  We both felt the contact of my dick to her pussy and sighed. 
With a smile, I pressed into her wetness, enveloping my cock with her body.
Her arms were already on my back, pulling me firmly on too of her.

   "I want to feel all of your weight on me," she told me.

   I complied, pressing myself against her.  I lay on her, feeling her
chest rise and fall beneath me as she breathed.  I started moving in and
out of her cunt; she responded with a motion of her own.  We made love
slowly in the dim light, watching each other's face.  Our bodies were in
full contact.  We were merged into one being.

   I warned her that I was about to cum and I tried to slow down so I
didn't cum before her.  She started moving faster against me and urged me
on.

   "I'm just about to cum.  Don't stop," she begged me.

   I reached beneath her, sliding my hands between the sheets and her ass
cheeks, until I could grasp her firmly.  Then I worked hard against her,
driving us both to a climax.  When I was just about to spurt, I slid my
hands up to her back and held her against me.  We looked into each other's
eyes as we came simultaneously.  I wanted to watch her face as she came but
it was hard to focus when I was cumming at the same time.  We cried out
together, then our lips met in a furious French kiss.  Her arms were around
my head, holding me to her.  Her legs wrapped around mine and she pressed
her pelvis firmly to me.  That was one of the longest orgasms I think I've
ever had.  The feel of her, the love I felt for her, the sounds and jerky
movements her body made as she came, all combined at once.  I screamed into
her mouth and she joined me.

   When we were done, our mouths separated and she laughed.  I loved the
feeling of my dick in her pussy when she laughed.

   "What's so funny?" I asked her.

   She took a moment to catch her breath before she said, "With the power
off and the hotel so quiet, do you think Stacy and Brian heard us?"

   I smiled a wicked smile.  She cocked her head at me in question.  "If
they didn't, they will surely hear this," was my reply.  I pulled my arms
from beneath her and reached for her sides between her hips and her rib
cage, tickling her mercilessly.  She screamed and laughed, thrashing and
trying in vain to get out from under me.  I was pulled out of her as she
thrashed.  In our play, the used condom slipped off my member, but I barely
noticed.

   "Stop!  Stop!" she tried to say through her laughter.  "If you don't
stop, I'll pee in the bed."

   "That's all right.  We can sleep on the other side," I countered.

   I wasn't cruel.  I stopped and let her catch her breath.

   "Yes," I said.

   "Yes?"

   "Yes, I think Stacy and Brian have heard us now," I announced.

   In response to my statement, the sound of creaking bed springs could be
heard from behind the wall.  We both laughed.  Perhaps we had woken them or
perhaps they were just getting even.  Whatever the reason, we lay there
together in the moonlight listening to their bed squeak.

   I played with her pussy a little, but she was tired so we didn't make
love again.  We finally fell asleep.  It was early morning when I woke up
feeling cold.  It took me a moment to realize that the power had come back
on and the air conditioner was working again.  I pulled the covers over us
and fell back asleep with my arm around Felicita, feeling all was well with
the world.

   I woke up slowly, feeling something warm and wet on my dick.  As I
slowly became more aware, I realized Felicita was no longer lying beside
me. She was under the covers giving me a blowjob.  What a way to wake up!

   "Good morning," I heard her say from under the covers.  She must have
felt me moving and figured I had woken up.

   "Thanks.  This is a really nice way to be woken up."

   "You were still asleep but you were already hard so I decided to start
without you," she confessed.

   I grabbed the covers and threw them off the bed.  Her smiling face
appeared.  She had stopped sucking to talk to me.  Now she returned to the
task at hand.  I had been up on my elbows but I settled back onto the
pillow.  I watched her sucking me, illuminated by the light coming through
the window from the rising sun.  She continued for a few minutes before
mentioning that her jaw was getting tired.  She released my erection and
sat up.  She picked up a condom she had placed there earlier and put it on
me.  I raised my eyebrows.

   "You planned ahead," I observed.

   She just smiled as she climbed atop me.  I watched with eagerness as her
pussy lowered until it made contact with the tip of my dick, paused, and
then kept descending.  She was very wet and warm.  She slid onto me so
easily that she must have woken up horny.  Before long, I was watching her
breasts bouncing lightly as she repeatedly impaled her trim body on my
shaft.  We watched each other slowly ascend to orgasm.  She was so lovely
in the soft light; the only sounds in the room were the creak of the bed
and an occasional gentle moan.  I came first, disappointed that she hadn't
had a change.  I needn't have worried because she followed immediately
after, before I had finished spurting.  Probably the feeling of my cum
shooting into her is what sent her over the edge.

   She climbed off and my softening erection plopped wetly onto my stomach.
She curled up next to me and hung one leg over mine.  The feeling of our
intertwined legs was so nice.  We were lying there enjoying the closeness
when there was a soft knock on the door separating the two rooms.  I looked
at Felicita.  We were both naked and I didn't have a robe handy.  She
pulled the sheet over herself and pointed to the bedspread.  It looked a
little ridiculous but I didn't have anything else in reach, except for my
clothes (which were strewn all over the floor).  I wrapped part of the
bedspread around me and opened the door a crack.

   It was Brian.  When he saw me, he looked embarrassed.

   "I'm sorry, Chris.  It got quiet so I thought you were finished.  Uh, I
mean..."

   "It's all right, Brian.  We were just resting."

   We shared a grin.

   "Yeah, us too.  I was just wondering if we need to do anything this
morning.  You know, try to figure out what's happening?  I don't know..."

   I explained that I was going to take Felicita to her mother's house to
get some clothes after breakfast.  After that, we needed to try to find out
when Gustavo was coming over.  He would come in handy, especially now with
all the changes taking place.

   "All that is contingent on being able to get a taxi.  Anyone on the
streets this morning?" I asked him.

   "I looked out the window.  No one is stirring.  It's eerie out there."

   "It's still early.  Unless we hear gunfire, I want to venture out. 
We're going to get dressed and try to find some breakfast.  I'd expect it
would take us half the day to get out to her house and back.  Want to meet
back here for lunch?"

   "Sure.  Be careful.  And, nice dress, Chris."

   I looked down at the bedspread and laughed.

   "Tell anyone about this and I'll get you."

   "My lips are sealed," Brian said as he closed his door.

   I turned back to the bed and dropped my "dress".  Felicita watched me
and said, "Yes, very nice."

   I keep forgetting she can speak English now.  "Your English is pretty
good.  Maybe too good"

   "Good enough that you can't hide anything from me." She was teasing but
it reminded me about wanting to send her to the basement the previous
morning.

   "I won't try to send you away again.  I still had second thoughts when
that shell hit the building, but I respect your wishes."

   "We might not be able to get to my house.  I would like to try, though.
Mama will be worrying by now."

   "Maybe she saw you on television yesterday."

   "She doesn't have a television," she explained.

   "Let's get dressed and get going," I suggested.

   She got up but went to the window.  I stood behind her.  I pressed my
body against hers and hefted her breasts.  She sighed pleasantly.

   "This feels so nice," she said slowly in a lazy voice, pressing her ass
against my midsection.  She reached behind me and grabbed me by the ass
cheeks.  I leaned over her shoulder and kissed her below the ear, one of
her favorite spots.  "Mmmm," she said.

   I looked up and surveyed the highway.  "Those tanks are still there," I
commented.  Felicita was silent.  "I wonder who will move them." A few
moments in silent thought and I asked, "Where do you suppose those people
got guns yesterday?"

   "I don't know," she answered.  "There are stories of dissidents, an
underground that opposes Fidel."

   "They must have been well organized.  They were convincing heavily armed
soldiers to defect.  How did a group like that get by the DGSE?"

   "The Secret Police can't be everywhere.  There are ways of avoiding
them."

   We watched as one or two people at a time went by, gazing curiously at
the line of tanks parked in the highway.  No vehicles passed by, only
people on foot or bicycle.

   "It looks like the city is trying to get back to normal.  It will be
difficult." I sighed heavily.  "Let's get ready and find some breakfast."

   We showered together and dressed.  I stuck my head in the room next door
to tell the others we were leaving.  I pointedly didn't look in the
direction of the bed.

   "It's OK.  We're dressed," Stacy said.

   I turned toward them and, sure enough, they were dressed.

   "Yeah, someone woke us up early," Brian teased.

   I grinned.  "Jealous?" I shot back.  Stacy blushed.

   "We're going to see if we can find something to eat and hire a car and
driver."

   "We'll come along.  I'm hungry," Brian said.

   The restaurant in the basement was open, but less organized than usual.
The array of food was not nearly as abundant as it had been before.  We ate
cautiously, aware that deliveries had been interrupted and others needed to
eat as well.  After breakfast, we went up to the lobby.  I asked the
doorman about getting a car.  He asked where we wanted to go.  Felicita
explained and he tried to talk us out of the trip.  We persisted and he
unlocked the door, escorting us out to the driveway.

   The damage didn't look as bad from here.  Some of the palm trees lining
the drive were down but most of the damage was to the lawn off to our left.
I looked up and saw many windows had been broken.  I asked if anyone had
been inured.  The doorman explained that everyone wants a view of the
ocean, so the rooms facing the city had been empty.  He whistled and a taxi
pulled up.  There were always a few taxis waiting near the street.

   The taxi pulled up but the doorman blocked the car door.  He opened the
front door and spoke with the driver, sticking his head into the car. 
After a few minutes, he was satisfied with the driver and let us get in. 
Felicita explained where we wanted to go.  The driver looked nervous and
said he couldn't take us there.  I handed over some twenties and he changed
his mind.  He pocketed the money and told us there were no guarantees he
would be able to get that far.

   On the drive, I tried to pump him for information.  He slowly warmed up
to us and told us what he had seen.  Yesterday, word had passed on the
street that Raul was going to ensure his grasp on power would hold.  He was
calling in the Army to secure "his" capital.  Locals known to be dissidents
started giving speeches in caf�s and on side streets - anywhere they could
gather a group away from the watchful eyes of the police and soldiers.  A
call was issued for the people who wanted to be free to rise up and take a
stand.  The people began to realize this would be the time to make changes.
If enough people opposed Communism now, Raul wouldn't have anything to hold
onto.

   It wasn't a mob forming.  It was more organized than that.  Weapons
started appearing.  Mostly, they were sticks and clubs.  Some farmers came
with their pitchforks.  A few guns showed up but no one knew from where. 
Apparently, this took place all over the city.  The people decided to
retake their country, their freedom.  Knowing their only strength lay in
their numbers, the groups started marching to the Malecon where the tanks
were moving in.  Facing armed tanks, brave men stepped out onto the highway
and took a stand.  I had seen what happened from then on.  What he added is
that the defections were widespread.  The soldiers realized they would end
up fighting their own families if they stayed at their posts.  In a scene
resembling what had happened in parts of Eastern Europe the decade before,
military support for the government crumbled.  The people took back their
country.

   I asked him if he knew what was happening today.  He said that he had
heard the people were waiting to see if there would be a reprisal from the
government.  So far, it was quiet on the streets.  Everyone was just
waiting.

   We managed to get out of the city and to Felicita's home without
incident.  As the car pulled into the yard, a face peered from behind a
curtain.  A cry rose and, moments later, Felicita's mother ran out to greet
us.  Her arms were upraised and she was crying.  My Spanish was pretty
good, but I couldn't follow the rapid conversation between her and her
daughter.  They hugged and kissed each other.  Felicita apparently told her
some of what I had done because her mother embraced me next.  I asked the
driver if he could return for us in a few hours.  He said he would.  I paid
him and promised him a big tip if he returned.  He drove off and we were
ushered into the house.

   Felicita's grandfather was there, visibly excited to see his
granddaughter alive and well.  They had been worried when Felicita didn't
return Thursday night, but figured she had found me and stayed over in the
city.  When they heard the next day what was happening near the hotel, they
became very worried.  They had gotten word later in the day from a neighbor
that Felicita had been seen on television and was all right.  From there,
they figured out that we wouldn't have been able to get here until this
morning.  It was like a reunion with Felicita returning home.  Soon,
however, attention turned to me.  They were both overjoyed to see the two
of us back together.  Felicita explained that she was going to stay with me
at the hotel and work for my company.  Her mother helped her pack some
clothes.

   Felicita took me into her room and showed me the framed copy of Fidel's
speech.  I told her how I had been there and had seen it when I was looking
for her.  She also showed me the pile of "C" dollars she had hoarded.

   When we returned to the kitchen, grandfather was sitting in a chair and
holding a dollar.  "To the museum," he said to me as he waved the money.  I
laughed with him.  "Now he will get his due," he continued.  He insisted we
share an orange.  I peeled it for him and we ate.  The fruit was so much
sweeter and flavorful in Cuba.  The rich soil and ideal growing conditions
were going to be a gold mine for the island nation once the political
situation stabilized.

   Before long, the taxi returned for us.  It was time to get back to the
city.  Hugs and tears all around combined with admonitions to be careful as
we said our goodbyes.  I promised to take care of Felicita.  Her mother
hugged me and whispered in my ear that her daughter was strong-willed and
didn't always look out for her own safety.  I smiled.  I had already seen
that the day before.  I assured her we would be back soon.  As we drove
off, Felicita waved through the back window until her mother was out of
sight.

   I asked the driver if the airport had reopened.  He said that he wasn't
sure since he hadn't been out there yet.  I told him to drive out there so
we could see.  Having seen how much I tipped him earlier, he realized I
could afford it and headed out to Jose Marti.  Along the way, I saw that
people were coming outside, starting to get on with their lives.  The city
wasn't falling into anarchy.  It was stepping out into the sunlight,
blinking, and getting on with life.

   We didn't stop at the airport, but we did drive around.  There were a
few planes on the ground.  They all appeared to be Cubana Air.  I suppose
all the other airlines got their planes (and people) out when the trouble
started.  We couldn't tell if flights had started arriving yet.  There was
some activity so we took that as a good sign.  The driver recommended we
head back to the city.  I placed a lot of stock in his level of nervousness
and let him take us back to the hotel.  Once there, I tipped him well for
the risks he took.  He was pleased but obviously glad to be dropping us
off.

   The hotel was not the usual beehive of activity.  It was still in
"lockdown" mode.  From what we saw from the car, most of Havana was just
coming out of that situation.  We were walking through the lobby when the
lady behind the desk got my attention.  She had some telephone messages for
me.  I read them on the way up in the elevator.  Still having electricity
was another good sign.

   One message was from a Cuban name I didn't recognize.  I was asked to
contact him immediately upon my return.  Another was from the U.  S. 
Interests Section asking me to check in with the Chief of Mission.  The
other was from Ross checking how we were doing.  I decided to call Ross
first.  I'd ask him if he knew the other name.  While I was on the phone,
Felicita put away her clothes.

   Ross was glad to hear from us.  He said the company was getting a lot of
publicity after my appearance on CNN.  My broadcast was the only thing
coming out of Havana at first, so the world learned about the event from
me. Ross also said that the Commerce Department had been in touch, giving
us the green light to start doing business in Cuba as long as the
Communists didn't seize control again.  He told me Gustavo was trying to
get a flight in but having trouble with the airport being closed.  I told
Ross to get word to me when Gustavo was able to get a flight so we could be
available when he got here.

   There was more news from the U.  S.  government through Ross.  He had
been asked to try to get word to us to check in with the U.  S.  Interests
Section.  The Chief of Mission needed to talk to me.  He explained this was
equivalent to an ambassador.  I finished up with him so I could call the
Chief of Mission.

   I called the Interests Section and gave my name.  I was connected at
once to the Chief of Mission.  He was very pleasant and extended best
wishes to me from the President.  It seems that everybody had seen my
broadcast.  The real reason for wanting to talk to me was because the
fledgling Cuban government wanted to meet with me.  I was asked to provide
any assistance I could give.  I was also offered staff and office space at
the Interests Section.  This was a help because we had not yet secured
office space.  Given the turn of events, we were still getting our
bearings. I thanked him and told him I would take him up on his offer.

   I then returned the final call.  The number rang many times before a man
answered.  I could hear a lot of activity in the background; it sounded
like mass confusion.  When I identified myself, the man told me to hold on
and yelled over the din, "Ernesto, it's that American from CNN!"

   "Hello, this is El Presidente de Cuba," a deep voice said.

   I told him who I was.  He was very pleased that I returned his call.  He
explained that he was the head of the new democratic government.  First
off, he thanked me very graciously for providing a view for the outside
world of what was happening in Havana.  Next he apologized for the errant
artillery shell that damaged my hotel room.  He explained that the people
who had taken over the artillery battery were not very experienced at
aiming the weapon.  This was all pleasantries.  I suffered through them
until he got to the real reason for the call.  Since my company had come to
Cuba to try to establish trade even before his government had come to
power, he wanted to offer to me the first trade contracts with the United
States.  I was surprised but immediately slipped into business mode.  I
told him that I would be very interested in discussing this.  He asked if I
could meet with him in a few hours.

   I realized that I didn't have Gustavo to help me but Felicita might be
suitable.  I told him I could and he gave me an appointment at 4:00 that
afternoon.  He told me to come to the office of the President and he would
be expecting me.  I assured him I would be there that afternoon.

   I turned to Felicita, who had not heard the other side of any of the
phone conversations.

   "We need to get some lunch now.  We have an appointment this afternoon."

   "We?" she asked.

   I nodded and explained further.  "With the President of Cuba." Her eyes
widened at that.  "That's what he is calling himself now.  Some guy named
Ernesto." She shook her head to indicate she had not heard of him.  "He
wants to discuss trade arrangements with us."

   "Us?" she asked.  In her surprise at the turn of events, she was stuck
on monosyllable responses.

   "Yes, us.  You're working with me now.  You are my best advisor on Cuban
culture."

   "What do I know...?" she started to ask.

   I ushered her out the door and in the direction of the elevators.  "You
know more than any of the rest of us.  I need you to listen, and then tell
me later what you thought about what he said.  You'll do fine.  Get used to
it.  You are now working for one of the biggest import companies in Cuba."
I smiled at her.  "Welcome to the big leagues."

   "Big league?" she asked.

   "It's an American expression.  It means you have an important job with
an important company."

   In the lobby, we ran into Brian and Stacy.  They were returning to look
for us for lunch.

   "Felicita," I asked her, "is there a nice restaurant we can go to near
here, one that is quiet so we can talk?"

   "I know of one but I'm not sure if it is open."

   "Take us there.  We need to discuss a lot of things."

   She led us to a restaurant within walking distance.  We had lunch while
I filled in the other two on the phone calls.

   "This is all happening so fast," was Stacy's response.

   "It's like that sometimes.  These people are trying to get a government
up and running.  They have to move fast.  This is the situation we had
hoped for.  We're in the right place at the right time, and they feel like
they owe us because of the CNN thing.  We'll take advantage of it to
negotiate trade agreements.  I want to stop at the U.  S.  Interests
Section and see if we can take one of their people along.  We'll also need
to change after lunch."

   We discussed strategy and opportunities.  Felicita mostly just listened
to this part.  She was able to give some input on the kinds of products
that were in short supply and desired by the locals.  I think she was a
little stunned to see how the business world worked.

   After lunch, we took a taxi to speak to the Chief of Mission, who agreed
to accompany us to the meeting.  I was impressed that he came along instead
of sending a subordinate.  He explained that he wanted to show the new
president that the United States was serious in its commitments and fully
backed the efforts of our company.

   We stopped back at the hotel.  Brian and I changed into suits and the
women put on dresses.  When we were all ready, we took the embassy car to
our meeting.



   To Be Continued in Chapter 5 - El Presidente

   This story is Copyright (c) 2004 by Strickland83.  All rights reserved.
Leah Coulter appears courtesy of Nick Scipio.  The Summer Camp characters
and universe are Copyright (c) 2002-2004 Nick Scipio.

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