I stroke the photo and put it on the night table. I take a few food items I’ve brought along: Brazilian candies, so that Bob can taste them. He looks into my eyes and smiles.“Can big daddy have your cum too, babe?”“I-I guess so, daddy. Gay sex He then brews some coffee and pours that in a large mug with milk and sugar. I don’t care if the cops are there, hidden behind the bushes. The I move to his forest of pubic hair.“Take my junk, Carlito. Then my feet get stuck, but Bob teaches me how to go about on the mud. Or maybe it’s someone pretending to be calling for help, but in reality, cops ready to take hold of us, latinos!Anyway, I listen again and, well, by his voice, I can tell he’s an American. Cash on the spot! He looks at the windows and the clean verandah.“Don’t tell me you’ve done all that on your own?” I smile and kiss him.“Oh, yes, dear. He lifts my chin. Then I see a sort of cliff, but not so deep.
