The Cuban Sandwich
Miami Beach, FL – 1987 – DAY ENRIQUE FIESTA, 20s, brash, reclines on a blanket. The rich woodsy skin exposed by the limited fabric of his turquoise speedo glistens under the hot Florida sun. Enrique’s eyes peek out from behind his sun glasses.
Enrique: Mamacita, caliente!
Cut To: TRISH LABUFF jogs down the beach, attracting the attention of many eyes. Trish, 20s, stands out for her full lips, ample chest, and strikingly blond Nordic features.
Cut To: Enrique sits up on his blanket captivated. PAULO SAN PAULO plops down next to him on the blanket with two sodas. Paulo, 20s, nerdy, his board shorts covering too much to titillate but just enough to make the mind wander.
Paulo: (Offering a sip of his soda) Soft drink?
Enrique: No, I’m looking for something else to drink, if you catch my drift.
Trish (O.S.) I could use a drink. It’s hot…
The two men stare at Trish above them. She grabs the bottle and wraps her lips around it.
Trish: Aghhhhh….
Enrique stands up. Faces Trish.
Enrique: (winking) I saw you running, was going to say hello, if you know what I mean.
Trish: Look, I don’t have time for double entendres. I’m only in town for a week for a conference on dark matter, then I have to return to the lab in Helsinki. But while I’m here I want to try something….
Paulo: What?
Trish: The Cuban sandwich.
Paulo: The Cuban Sandwich!
Paulo’s hand shakes so violently his soda froths over the edges of the bottle.
Cut To: Paulo’s Apartment – Later Messy, comic books framed on the walls along with soccer stars. Paulo moves debris from the table and tries to be hospitable. Enrique leads Trish in by the hand.
Enrique: Alright, baby, prepare yourself for a true taste of Cuba.
Paulo: I’m sorry about the mess—
Trish grabs Paulo and kisses him deep on the lips. Paulo falls back onto the couch.
Enrique: I thought you’d save that for me.
Trish: I’ve got something more special for you.
Trish kisses Enrique on the lips. Strokes his member through the Speedo fabric. Trish heads to the bathroom. Paulo rises from the couch.
Paulo: Oh man, I’m nervous. Have you done the Cuban sandwich before?
Enrique: Of course. I’m Enrique…. I’ve done this a… a lot.
Paulo: When?
Enrique: Don’t question me. Just follow me lead. You take the front, I’ll take the back.
Paulo: What if I want the back?
Enrique: You wouldn’t know what to do on the back!
Trish enters in a robe.
Trish: Speaking of backs.
Trish opens the robe to reveal a 12 inch black strap on.
Trish: You’re up Enrique.
A MIDDLE AGED WOMAN in a smock enters. She drops her coffee.
Woman: Paulo, what’s going on?
Paulo: Mom? No!
Mom: You defile this house with your sexy friend and black cock?!
Paulo’s Mom hits him in the side of the head.
Paulo: It’s not my fault. It’s Enrique. He wanted to do this Cuban Sandwich.
Mom stops hitting Paulo.
Mom: The Cuban sandwich? I didn’t think that was real.
Trish: It’s very real, Mrs. San Paulo. Let me show you.
Trish gently kisses Paulo’s Mom on the shoulder. Their eyes meet. They kiss passionately. Paulo’s Mom strokes Trish’s black cock.
Paulo: Mom?
Enrique pushes Paulo onto the couch.
Enrique: Your mother is a woman with needs.
Mom: That’s right.
Paulo’s Mom pulls up her dress, revealing a black cock of her very own.
Mom: Come here, Enrique.
Trish and Mom pull Enrique towards them. The three of them kiss as Paulo hides behind a cushion. Trish bends Enrique over, his sculpted buttocks bridging the coffee table. She spits on her black cock, inserts it gently. She thrusts, letting out quick moans of Scandanavian delight.
Paulo’s Mom passes him on the couch and squats, placing her black cock in front of Enrique’s mouth. His lips stretch to accommodate the girth. He nearly gags, and the dark rubber batters his tonsils.
Trish lets out a Viking cry, crashing her hips against Enrique’s swarthy love cave. Paulo’s Mom feels her own passions explode, rubbing her nipples through the lime green polyester bra.
Paulo watches with one eye from behind the shield of a cushion. He is repulsed, but strangely aroused, as he strokes his surprisingly girthy meat stick. And together, they all orgasm, their cries and sweat enough to heat up an already sultry Miami night.
They each collapse post coitus. Enrique’s naked torso hangs over the coffee table, while Trish and Paulo’s Mom embrace on the carpet, their black cocks crossing to form an X. Paulo rubs the moisture from his inner thighs and the cushions.
Mom: Is anyone hungry?
Enrique: No, I think the Cuban sandwich filled me up.
They laugh. They flirt. They lie in the naked stillness. Until the next time one of them gets hungry for that special Miami treat… the Cuban Sandwich!
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8sxodx/i_wrote_my_1st_porn_scene_would_you_watch_group
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