Michael had been in Havana for four days and still hadn't got laid, despite the assurances of a work colleague (who had raved about Cuba as a holiday destination for singles) that it was 'as easy as falling off a log'.

The hookers on the notorious Prada avenue were all dumpy and overweight and clad in lurid purple or orange lycra body suits, and there had been a recent police purge of the more glamorous jinetera amateur prostitutes. So Michael was left with the handful of unattached single women staying in his hotel, the best of whom had already been snapped up by Cuban hunks.

He sat on a bench in the city's huge Parque Central, reviewing his options. Should he make a pass at the girl at the next table to his at breakfast - who was about as attractive as Angela Merkl - or hang the consequences and try a quickie in a dark doorway with a Prado hooker?

It was noon and hot and he was very horny. He was about to seek the refuge of an air-conditioned bar for his first rum cocktail of the day, when he spotted an attractive young dark-skinned Cuban woman, talking to an old gardener tending one of the park's flowerbeds. He picked a single cream bloom from a butterfly bus and handed it to her with a smile. She placed it behind her ear, thanked him and strolled off across the square.

She was very tall - Michael guessed nearly six feet - statuesque and 'leggy'. Her deliciously-long gams were unstockinged, with their slender thighs disappearing beneath the edge of a microscopically-short pair of denim shorts. If the shorts had been one inch shorter her crotch would have been on display. She wore a snugly-fitting white T-shirt, which emphasised her ample bosom and her jet black hair was bunched up high on her head, held by a tortoise shell clip. From a broad muscular shoulder, the rope of an ancient straw basket hung.

Michael's heart missed a beat when he realised that this heavenly apparition was making a bee-line for his bench.

"Phew, I'm bushed!" were her opening words as she slumped down, fanning herself with one hand. At close quarters, she was stunningly beautiful, with big dark brown eyes, long eyelashes and lush, sensuous ruby lips.

"Yeah, hot isn't it?"

"Hey, where are you from?" she asked eagerly, on hearing his accent.

"England."

"Wow! I've always wanted to visit England.'

"Personally, I'd say you were better off here."

"Why so, honey?"

"Because England is cold and wet and expensive!" He'd noted the use of the word 'honey'.

"How long are you here for?"

"Only four more days, I'm afraid."

"Where are you staying?"

"At the Seville Plaza."

"Hey, how swanky! I've always wanted to see inside there."

He paused to reflect on whether he should make a pass now. Why not?

"When you came up just now, I was toying with the idea of finding a bar to have a drink. I was wondering...would you care to join me? The Seville Plaza serves a wonderful mojito?"

"Why I'd love to!" She sounded genuinely thrilled.

"My name's Michael, by the way."

"And I'm Gloria." She pouted her lips tantalisingly.

"I must say that flower you're wearing really suits you, Gloria."

Why thank you, Michael," she purred sweetly, in a husky voice. "Do you know what it's called?"

"Nope, can't say I do."

"Mariposa." As she slid closer to him on the bench, he picked up a musk and orange fragrance. "It also happens to be the slang word in Spanish for..." she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper..."a gay man!"

They crossed the square together and headed for Michael's hotel, three blocks away. The doorman nodded courteously as they entered and Michael was thrilled to feel this glamorous young woman take his arm as they went up the carpeted entrance steps.

Within moments, a waiter was by their side to take their order as they seated themselves on a corner sofa, in front of the cooling draft from a big window which overlooked the street. An old-fashioned fan revolved overehead.

"So what have you got planned for this afternoon, Gloria?"

"I'm meeting a girlfriend over at the Botanical Gardens. You?"

"Not a lot. I thought I might try one of the museums, or maybe go up the Marti tower." He didn't dare tell her that he'd rather take her up to his room and spend the afternoon fucking her. At that point the drinks arrived.

Very soon Michael had ordered a second round. Gloria stretched out her gazelle-like legs, lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes, allowing him to take a long look at her magnificent breasts for the first time.

Her huge black nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton of the T-shirt and she obviously wasn't wearing a bra. She caught him peeping as she opened her eyes, smiled and jiggled them provocatively for him. The nipples hardened with the contact of the cotton. In their discreet hideaway corner, he so much wanted to slip his hand under her T-shirt to fondle those beautiful globes. He was already half-hard.

"Honey, I'm going to have to find the little girls' room," she said coyly, clamping her thighs together as if she was about to wet herself.

"Which way is it?"

"I think you'll find it's just beyond the lifts."

As she rose to get up, he quickly added: "Tell you what, Gloria: why don't we go up to my room? You could use the bathroom and freshen up before you go off to meet your girlfriend. I might even make us a couple of rum cocktails - I've got a bottle of Havana Club stashed up there!"

She was on her fleet in a flash and they headed for the lift, hand-in-hand.

While Michael mixed their Cuba Libres, Gloria slipped into the bathroom. He heard her using the toilet and then she called out, "Michael - would it be OK if I took a quick shower; it might cool me down?"

"Of course." He switched on the air conditioning.

It certainly was a quick shower. Within five minutes she was standing resplendent in the bathroom doorway, hands on hips, with a white bath towel wrapped around her waist, sarong-style. Her long hair was down now, but the mariposa flower was still behind her ear. And she was topless.

"You like?"

He gazed at her magnificent breasts as her two index fingers slowly encircled the huge areolas (fully three inches across) crowned by rigid black nipples.

"I like very much," he said, advancing towards her and putting his arms around her to grasp her firm bottom. She felt his erection through the towel.

"Mmmmm, so I see!" She kissed him tenderly, slipping her tongue into his mouth. "Why don't you get out of those jeans? Let a lady see what you've got to offer?"

"He hastily kicked off his jeans and briefs. Nervously he stood before her, fully erect. "You like?"

"Mmmmm, I most certainly do! That's a divine cock you've got there. And I see you're cut. I just love a man who's cut; gives a lady so much more to suck on!" she said rubbing her crotch through the towel.

He urgently wanted to get his first glimpse of her pussy. He was sure it would be shaved as smooth as a baby's bottom - and in all probability wet. How he ached to run his index finger up her wet slit.

She batted her big doe-like eyelids coyly, as if she could read his mind. "Do you like surprises, Michael?" He nodded bashfully.

Gloria slid one hand behind her back to gracefully unfasten the only garment which now remained between their nakedness. It fell silently to the floor, to reveal a very large, semi-erect un-cut penis, with a long dark hood and prominently-raised veins running along its length. The base of the shaft was clean-shaven and the large ball sack she was tenderly stroking, was as smooth as baby's bottom.

"You like?" she repeated, fluttering her eyelashes demurely.

Michael's mouth dropped open. He was speechless. He'd never seen such a huge cock. Not in real life. Not in lads' mags. Not even on a really well-hung stud in a porn movie. It was truly magnificent and he just couldn't take his eyes off it. "Wow!" was all that finally came out.

She smiled enquiringly. "So would that be...a 'yes'?"

"I can certainly see why you're called Gloria. Glorious legs, glorious lips, glorious tits and an absolutely glorious cock!"

"So glad you like it, petal. She began to strole it slowly and tantasingly to semi-erection. As she peeled back her hood, Michael could see that her cock was already glistening with pre-cum. She wiped some drops onto her little finger and then smeared them over his lips. "You like?"

He ran his tongue around his lips, savouring the flavour. "Mmmm, I like a lot!"

She playfully brushed her shaft against his. "Maybe we could try a little sword fighting. Ever done cock sword fighting?"

"Can't say I have." His own rock-hard cock was now oozing pre-cum copiously.

"How about docking? Done docking?" She gingerly began to slip her hood over the tip of his moistened penis.

"No, I'm afraid not. You see I'm...well, I'm a virgin in this department."

"Well, you'll just love docking, poppet. It's soooo sexy and we're perfectly set up for it: I'm un-cut and you're cut. Gloria slides her big black hood over Michael's gorgeous pink knob end and then we wank each other off! It's sensational when you cum together. But ever so messy, so let's save it up for later, shall we? Do it in the shower?

"Right, now I think I'll call my girlfriend and tell her I can't make it up to the Botanical Gardens as it's too hot." She knocked back the last of her rum cocktail with a single gulp.

"Then darling..." the word 'darling' was enunciated in a slow, sexy Marlene Dietrich drawl "...after you've fixed us both another of those super-strong Cuba Libres, I'm gonna lie down on that lovely big bed of yours, and you can suck your Gloria off until she cums."

Stroking the nape of his neck tenderly, she gave him a long, rum-flavoured kiss on the lips and whispered, "But it's gonna be a gusher, sweetheart - I haven't cum for nearly a week!"

"Why's that?"

"Because until an hour ago I hadn't met a man who I wanted to give it all to!"

Author's note: Hugs and kisses to Linda for her support.