Post by wolfie on May 29, 2014 15:49:25 GMT -5
My mind slowly slips from dream-state. I feel a warm body
pressed up against mine. Small fingers twirl in my chest-hairs ever so
delicately. My brain is almost awake now and my eyes slowly open. I can hear
cocks crowing and that is my cue to rise and shine.
I ever-so-gently try to get up, but an arm tries to hold me
down. She is still asleep, yet the young lady is responsive and aware of my
movements. “I want to take a shower baby,” I whisper. She reluctantly lets me
go.
After a long hot shower, I get dressed. I am an early riser,
you see. I kiss the young lady lying in my bed; she tries to hold me down,
however, I escape; hah.
I step outside and take a deep breath. “It’s going to be another warm day,” I say to
myself, as I follow the path of stone, ceramic and marble. I walk by the pool,
and it’s mighty inviting. “ later,” I say. Continuing on I slowly climb the few
steps to the large veranda.
The cocks are much louder now, and one of them has escaped
captivity next door and found its way onto the verandah. As I turn the coffee machine on, a small dog
comes barking at the fowl; it suddenly clucks and flaps its wings furiously
taking it back to where it belongs.
Switching on one of
the large ceiling fans, it is time to enjoy the view while the coffee brews.
To my left and at the lower level there is a thatched roof
covering a large bar area. I smile as I
remember last night and the ever-so-sexy dance that all of the girls of the DR
do so well.
Straight ahead and semi-elevated there is a heavily pillared
large gazebo with rattan tables and chairs. Mango and palm trees abound.
A little more to the right is another thatched structure
adjacent to the pool, complete with tables and chairs. It is good place to eat
lunch.
To my right starting slightly below the verandah are rows of
stand-alone structures, sturdily built out of cement blocks and mortared. The
subsequent row is one step lower as is the next and so on. These are the guest
rooms, some 30 or so I would estimate.
I smell the coffee now and I am anxious to pour that first
java down my parched gullet, where last evening copious amounts of cerveza and
mamajuana passed into oblivion. “Ahaaaaa”, damn that tastes good.
One by one the staff is beginning to arrive now. They all
take the time to greet me “Hola amigo” or “good morning my friend”. Even though
the place is relatively new to me, I feel very much at home. This only my
second morning at this visit and I am already completely at peace with the
world. Scratch that; I pretty much don’t care what is happening in the world,
because I am content.
An hour has gone by quickly because I have consumed another
coffee, and one or two, (okay it’s three) mamajaunas. The BD comes out, gives
me a knowing neck massage and sits down with his trusty computer. He is about
to pour through the 100 emails he gets in a day and respond. Our chat is
interrupted. My chica has arrived. God dam she is guapa (sexy), and all mine. I
get up and we hug and kiss. It doesn’t take long for Francis to get our
Breakfast orders in, and the girl and I share a tender moment, hold hands,
smiling at each other knowingly. Last night was special, mission completed (In
her case twice).
Following the morning sustenance, we discuss our upcoming
day. “A la casa for ropa,” she says. I don’t know why, but the girls always
wait for the second day before getting their clothes. I suppose they think you
might change chicas the next morning, which you are fully entitled to do. In my
case, I am happy with this one; the BD has chosen well for me.
An hour later, she is back with an even more guapa outfit
on. We head to la domicil where we unpack. This next part is censored.
An hour and a half later we have our swim-ware on headed for
the 10 second walk to the pool. We are alone. Damn, I was hoping for some male
companionship. Oh well, back to some touchy, fealy foreplay. It’s hard on this
old guy you know. After all, I’m not 60 anymore.
We are interrupted by another couple who suggest we go to la
playa (beach). I check with my chica and she agrees. First we will share a few
cervazas and some chat.
A Dominican hour later we are re-attired and take the 10
minute walk to the BoatHouse. We are on the beach in an open structure, but
covered. We order respective drinks and share some basic information. The chico
and I speak English, while the girls speak Spanish to each other. I know a
little more Spanish now and enjoy not having to bring an electronic interpreter
with me is a big advantage.
We later eat a small meal, enjoy the cooling breeze coming
off the water, and each others company. If I believed heaven were any better
than this, I’d be in a hurry to get there.
Back at the hotel a casting is gathering. Six lovely ladies
are waiting for one guy, whom the BD has gone to pick up at the airport, to
arrive. He will survey his harem carefully then select one. My chica wants to
go elsewhere so I can’t ogle her rivals, but instead I reassure her she is the
most beautiful chica there, so she reminds me she is watching and we leave it
at that.
The new guy is here. I excuse myself and go talk to the new
arrival and the BD. He asks me for advice. I say, “Good luck buddy”, and shake
his hand, returning to my chica. We have a good vantage to observe the
proceedings.
He is on his own. Personally, I don’t like castings. They
have their place, but, I like to tell BD what I want and let him pick.
The casting over, my chica and I go for a short nap, before
the night activities begin. There is to be mucho dancing, eating, cervaza drinking
and afterwards: Well you will have to use your imagination.
This is a condensed story of one chico at CFI in an ordinary
day. To find out more, you will need to take the leap yourself. I am a content
customer who believes it necessary to pass along the good news: There is a
place where a guy can be happy, if only for a short time.
The wolfman hath spoken
Wolfie
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, but learning how to dance in the rain.
(Vivian Green)
Don't sweat the petty stuff, and don't pet the sweaty stuff
(unknown)