She took it deep in her mouth, her mouth already filled with his hot, salty cum, dripping down her face with the first load and the final load jetting to the back of her mouth and almost choking her. He kept his softening cock in her mouth as she swallowed the cum, gulping loudly as it slowly sank into her gullet. Her tongue cleaned it as he pulled free from her mouth. They both got dressed without a hint of embarrassment, Monika licking the cum from her face with her tongue and commenting to Fidel how good dessert was.
They both sat in the facing chairs, Fidel passing around fresh cigars, Monika feeling comfortable with something long and hard in her mouth. They talked until the wee hours of the morning, from politics, to Cuba, the United States, economics, any subject. Including sex. Fidel was well versed in all of them, finding his match in Monika, arguing incessantly over the smallest details, neither willing to back down from a good argument.
“I must let you go. It is almost dawn and state business will require my undivided attention. And you, Monika, distract me greatly. I hope to see you again before you ago, but I am going abroad for a month, spending much time with my brethren in Venezuela. But I think our paths will cross again. And I am sure that Miguel will take good care of you. He has many things that he will teach you, and you are a willing student.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek.
She felt his beard scratch her face as he kissed her. She had never enjoyed such a night before. Not only the sex, but the discussion. They seemed to have this bond for her mother that could not be broken.
“Would you like me to dispose of it?” Fidel said to her as they were heading to the door, Miguel just outside waiting patiently like a good soldier.
She feigned ignorance. “Dispose of what?”
“I wouldn’t want you dumping it down a toilet. It is a very powerful poison, it wouldn’t dilute very easily. I have experts, like those that gave it to you, that can get rid of it safely.”
She reached in her purse and pulled out the brown vial. She handed it to him. “How did you know I wouldn’t use it?”
“I know you better than your so called friends know you, Monika. You aren’t that type of person.” He took the vial and put it in his pocket. “Don’t worry about them being disappointed that you didn’t do it. I think you’ll find that you can use them more than they can use you. You’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it all out.”
They drove back to the hotel, the sun rising in the sky to a new day. Miguel looked like he was rested up from the night, but Monika suspected that he was nearby the whole night.
“I will see you soon, Monika,” as she got out of the car.
“I’m sure I will,” she teased back at him. “I wait with high expectations.” She got out of the car, but not without shaking her ass at him, hearing him laugh as she closed the door of the car. It sped off into the distance, Monika glad she didn’t have to work today.
She told Michael that she couldn’t do it, finding her note that she left him. He didn’t look terribly disappointed, not into it like the rebels. Or his boss. The next two months passed quickly, Monika not seeing El Presidente again, just a short note from him as she was leaving. But the same couldn’t be said for Miguel, Monika finding herself visiting El Capitolio Nacional as if he were a tour director. By time she left the country she was initiated into every one of the pieces of furniture including the plank, her pussy sore for a week afterwards. It consisted of a board, stood up on its side, the edge almost pointed, the wood rough. Her arms were tied above her head, her legs tucked behind her, all of her weight pushing her sex hard onto the edge of the board. Miguel kept her that way for half an hour, each time she got too still he would use a riding crop on her, visiting her body wherever he pleased until her gyrations would drive her pussy up and down the rough wood. The wood beneath her pussy grew wet with her juices as Miguel rode her to climax, the pleasure overcoming the pain. She regretted leaving, knowing that it would be almost impossible for her to return.
Epilogue
The next year passed quickly for Monika. She was still was a TA for Michael, but he didn’t take her sexually very often. The closer to graduation, the less frequent it became. He had a new stable of fresh girls to teach, and Monika didn’t mind. Miguel had opened up something new for her, and Michael still didn’t know what it was.
She wasn’t sure what to do upon graduation. The Cuban project had been immensely successful, not only to Michael, his reputation renowned because of the study, but also for Monika, Joanna and Sandra. They had their pick of almost any large corporation that wanted the brightest up-and-coming Economist. Even the government sought them out, the White House, Foreign Affairs, Congress and some of the biggest Senators tried to get them to join their organization. Joanna took a job at the White House, the new President having at least four years, Joanna working on his economic stimulus package. Sandra took the corporate road, joining IBM, working in Brussels for their businesses in the EU.
Monika was ready to sign on the dotted line when she got an unexpected offer that was unsolicited. She had opened the plain crisp white envelope, the gold letters emblazed with the name but no return address. It was an offer. Or more to the point, an offer for an offer. To be negotiated. Monika was a hard bargainer, taking two weeks of almost daily meetings before it was finalized, Monika getting everything she wanted, heeding Miguel’s advice that they needed her more than she needed them. She was the first and only Economic Liaison for Cuba. At a salary that was in excess of $150,000 per year, a vast sum since she would be stationed in Cuba. The only official representative of the United States government in that country in over twenty-five years.
The head of the Caribbean CIA office had been mysteriously summoned by the Cuban government one night over a year ago. Not to turn down such a momentous invitation, he accepted the short notice. He was ushered into a room with about twenty people, most of the married couples of high-ranking officials and military leaders of Castro. They were given specific instructions to maintain absolute silence and then they were introduced to the most bizarre display that he had seen in his life. Fidel Castro brought in a girl that was blindfolded, putting her in the center of the room as the bright lights cast an eerie light over her. There the most powerful man in Cuba instructed the girl to masturbate for him, all of them in awe as she performed masterfully, following his implicit instructions to the letter, stripping naked until she finally came under the duel impalement of two vibrators. And the girl was an American. He was so impressed, seeing the way Castro looked at her as though she had captivated him, not the other way around. They had to have her, no matter what she requested.
She even met the new President of the United States before she left, trying to impress upon her the importance of her mission. No, they got the foolishness of trying to kill Castro out of their system, no one even mentioning that it was in fact a mission. Now they wanted to begin building a harmonious relationship with the aging leader. And Monika seemed to be the only one in the free world that had the connections to the leader of Cuba. Okay, she was working for the CIA, but it was more like they were working for her. And it was only where her paycheck was coming from, not her authority. Not surprising, she was accepted by the Cuban government with nary a question, her visa accepted within days. The private jet landed at the Havana airport in the hot afternoon sun, the first American jet to land in a public airport in Cuba in decades. There were no marching bands or celebration, just a lone black stretch Cadillac limousine sitting on the tarmac. Monika grew excited by its occupant, not surprised to find Miguel smiling up at her, a new star on his shoulder. “I see we both did well.”