1. LANGUAGE BARRIER

WHY: A lover with a language barrier doesn't waste time with chit chat.

I accompanied my friend Isabel to her homeland, the Dominican Republic, for a break from the New York winter. She had convinced me I needed to try one of the men from her country. As we passed through the casino at our hotel she stopped to talk to a man standing at the craps table who had said something to us. She translated his statement as “who is Miss Universe’s sister?” referring to me. I asked Isabel if she thought he was doable, she said yes, I agreed, and the flirt was on. We beamed at each other as he talked with Isabel. He spoke as much English as I did Spanish, painfully little.

He was tall for a Dominican, 5’11, and well-built. He had a sexy mole and smiling eyes. His caramel-colored skin glowed with the heat and energy of his country.

He offered to take us out. Cute though he may be I did not think this was a good idea. Isabel seemed to trust him. I warned her that if we died she’d be in big trouble.

He drove us around town. I insisted on sitting in the back seat so Isabel could talk to him and hopefully keep track of where we were headed. We ended up at an outdoor bar. They talked while he and I made doe eyes at each other. I got the impression he was no rocket scientist and was much happier to be able to gaze into his eyes rather than maintain a conversation with him. Our attraction was immediate and elemental and required no dialogue.

When we got back to the hotel Isabel got out and we went to park. He kissed me. He kissed me all over all the while saying “I like you, mommy” then “I love you, mommy,” a Spanish term of affection. I stumbled out of the car and found an irritated Isabel. I assumed she had gone upstairs, but instead had been sneering from a short distance with the security guards.

We headed upstairs. “He ate it like a dog!” I bragged.

The next morning I had Isabel call him and instruct him to pick me up at 5pm and that he had to have me back by 8pm so I could accompany her to a disco in the City. I wanted to experience him, to know how a man unpolluted by the niceties of a pampered world made love. Isabel had been telling me for months how the men in her country were different, that the Dominican men in New York, of which I knew plenty, had been tainted by the climate, by stress, by cynical civilization. She convinced me I needed a native.

In the meantime, I basked in the warmth of the sun and my anticipation. We decided to go snorkeling. Our instructor, a small, muscular, dark man, knew he had his hands full. Both Isabel and I were afraid of the water and of the snorkel gear. I had snorkeled once before so I was slightly less of a basket case, but only slightly. Once in, we warmed up immediately. He found an excellent spot full of coral and fish. He posed for our underwater cameras and then got feisty. He pulled his cock out of his swim trunks and Isabel and I took turns stroking it. Circles of cum look beautiful underwater.

My man arrived at 5, as instructed and said he would have me back by 8. He wore a black wife beater, which showed off his smooth, strong arms. We entered a gated apartment building with a verdant courtyard. Inside the apartment a dark-skinned woman was ironing in one bedroom and in the other bedroom an old naked white man nonchalantly arose from a king-sized bed and wrapped a towel around his waist. He came and sat next to me on the couch in the living room. I wondered how and why these people lived in this small two-bedroom apartment and how I was ever going to get what I wanted.

After what seemed like an eternity, the woman came out of the bedroom and we went in. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan filled the room that was muted by low hues of an afternoon sun seeping in through slatted shades. We kissed. He unzipped my sundress. La Vie En Rose sung by Edith Piaf floated in from the living room. I instructed him to do just as he did in the parked car and he accommodated perfectly. He handled me like a doll.

He took off his clothes, he never wore underwear. He put me on the corner of the bed, lifted my knees and positioned himself standing above me. I tingled all over my body and my chin went numb! I shivered and writhed like never before. He hit IT; I made all kinds of sounds and screams, too entranced to worry about the others in the apartment.

The old man knocked at the door then opened it! He motioned that we had to go somewhere. I was having a peak-life experience and this old fart wanted to run an errand?! Turned out the old fart was my man’s boss and my made-for-sex man was basically his servant.

I got in the back seat of the car and tried to wind dry my sopping wet snatch. I was still partially numb and quite disoriented. We were headed to town and it occurred to me I was basically being kidnapped by two men I could not communicate with, but somehow I felt no fear. We were an hour late for meeting Isabel but the only thing I could think of was having another moment alone with this man.

After fetching the old man’s son and taking him to a babysitter the three of us went to dinner along with the old man’s gorgeous dark-skinned, young girlfriend who was a doctor. I figured this guy must be loaded to get this girl since he looked like the “Smoking Man” from the X-Files and had the personality to match. We drove back to the City to go to a restaurant called Meson La Quintana.

Fresh food and spicy Spanish wine heightened my ecstasy. The veal tasted of earth and beauty, the butter of tender fresh clouds. My man and I were all over each other and he kept asking me to marry him. The doctor kept pointing out that we only just met. She claimed to know a little English, which she certainly did not. Attempting to explain things to her so she could translate to the men was far more exhausting than just using the pantomime system my man and I had already naturally developed together. I was content to know very little of what was going on. I basked in the joy of being allowed to witness a world so different from what I knew and the language barrier heightened my thrill.

After dinner I patiently tolerated extended socializing over rum and cokes, just waiting for another chance to be alone with this man. We finally went to bed. As we made love he motioned for me to pinch his nipples, harder, harder. After another encounter with ecstasy, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

In the morning he brought me breakfast in bed. My eggs over easy -somehow he knew just how I liked them- tasted fresher than any I’d ever had. Sweet onions and butter were baked into the toast. Warm sweet milk tasted just like him. After he fed me, he came back to bed with me.

He did everything for me with such tenderness and joy. A smile of a thousand suns burst forth from him every time he looked at me. I realized it was most likely a play for a green card, but I had never felt so alive. Eventually I made it back to Isabel, who had absconded with the snorkel instructor, and I patiently endured her cocky “I told you so’s.”