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From: Strickland83 <strickland83@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} After Fidel - Chapter 5
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Date: Sun, 22 Aug 2004 11:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "After Fidel - Chapter 5 ASSM.txt" begin>

Author: Strickland83
Title: After Fidel
Part: Chapter 5
Summary: Sometimes, a once in a lifetime opportunity comes along more
than once.  The question is - did she wait for him?
Keywords: MF, rom, mast, cons, oral
Revision: 1.0

   Web Site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/strickland83/www

   This story is Copyright (c) 2004 by Strickland83.  All rights reserved.
Leah Coulter appears courtesy of Nick Scipio.  The Summer Camp characters
and universe are Copyright (c) 2002-2004 Nick Scipio.

   After Fidel By Strickland83

   Chapter 5 - El Presidente

   I'm not sure what I expected to see at our meeting.  The one thing I had
gleaned from the telephone conversation was a sense of disorder.  We pulled
up to the building to find it bristling with a ragtag bunch of soldiers. 
Some had uniforms but most did not.  All were heavily armed, each man
sporting at least two weapons, usually a rifle and a pistol.  They were
supposed to be an Army, but there was no appearance of order or control.

   As we got out of the car and ascended the many steps, the guards watched
us with contempt.  Looking around, I could see our clothes didn't fit in.
Some of the soldiers, the more senior looking ones, sneered as they
regarded us.  In the end, our clothes may be what made the soldiers admit
us.  Dressed better than the guards, we looked official so they were
probably concerned that turning us away would be a mistake.  None of the
soldiers appeared confident that they knew what they were doing.  I suppose
it was understandable for a government that had been in power a little over
a day.  We were allowed to enter the building but had to stop at numerous
checkpoints to be interrogated.  When we were almost to the President's
office, guards wanted to frisk us.  I had no problem with being searched,
as we were unarmed, but I didn't want the women to be frisked by the male
soldiers.  I could see in Stacy's face that she didn't want this collection
of thugs running their hands over her body but Felicita didn't look
concerned.  Perhaps this had been an acceptable practice in Fidel's Cuba.
After a few minutes of disagreement, one of the soldiers got on the phone.
A female soldier, also heavily armed, arrived and searched the women.  Once
the guards were convinced we were harmless, we were admitted.

   A group of people had taken over Fidel's office.  There were loud
conversations and occasional explosions of laughter.  To their credit, they
were not just sitting around drinking his rum and smoking his cigars.  They
were doing that, of course, but they were also working.  Some were holding
meetings in small groups, others were speaking on telephones.  Cigar smoke
hung heavily in the room.  Every person in the room was heavily armed. 
Many sported two pistols stuck in their belts.  A few wore bandoliers of
ammunition.  It was strange seeing all the weapons in that elegant office.
Being over-dressed might have impressed the guards outside, but in here it
only marked us as outsiders.  That might have gotten us past the guards
outside, but here it only identified us as out of place.

   Ben, the Chief of Section, pulled my ear to his face and loudly
whispered over the din.  "Don't be deceived by their clothes," he urged me,
apparently aware of what I was thinking.  "These people are revolutionaries
first, and dignitaries second.  They are running Cuba now.  Keep that in
mind." I nodded my agreement.

   As we walked through the room, the mass slowly parted to allow us to
pass until I could see a large wooden desk ahead in front of a larger
window.  Two weeks ago, Fidel had sat at that desk.  Today, a large man
occupied the seat of power.  He was heavily armed and wearing fatigues.  He
smoked a cigar, a cloud of blue smoke hanging over his head.  There was a
glass of rum on the desk amid a confused pile of papers and maps.  He was
talking animatedly with two other men.  When the trio saw us standing
before them, they abruptly stopped talking and stared at us.

   The big man behind the desk smiled and held out his hand, not sure which
one of us to address.  "I am Ernesto Famosa Sanchez." His voice was deep
and bold.

   Ben, the Chief, nudged me forward.  I reached for Ernesto's hand.  "We
spoke on the telephone, Presidente Sanchez."

   "Please call me Ernesto.  I must have the pleasure of addressing
Christopher, yes?"

   "Yes, Ernesto.  Thank you for inviting us here.  Allow me to introduce
my associates."

   "Certainly.  But first, let's get comfortable.  There is a conference
room through this door." Ernesto indicated with his hand the way to a
quieter room with a beautifully carved mahogany conference table.  As I
turned towards the room, I caught Ernesto motioning to a group of men to
follow us inside.  We took seats around the table.  Ernesto sat at the head
and pointed to the seat on his right for me.  I realized the honor he
offered me and took the seat.  Felicita moved to sit next to me but Ben,
the Chief, guided her to the next seat over and took that one for himself.
I realized I might need his counsel during the meeting.  I would be able to
confer with Felicita after we left.

   I introduced the rest of my entourage to Ernesto, and he did the same
with the men who had entered after us.  Who most of them were didn't
interest me, except for the Minister of Foreign Trade.  Ernesto then wasted
no time after that getting down to business.  He must have been busier than
I could possibly imagine so he was pressed to dispense with most of the
usual Spanish courtesies of refreshments and polite conversation before
business.

   "Christopher, I understand that you are in the business of importing and
exporting goods.  We are in need of many things in Cuba.  I think we can be
of benefit to each other."

   I wasn't comfortable with addressing the new President of Cuba by his
first name, but I wasn't about to offend him by going against his wishes.
"Ernesto, we would be delighted to assist you.  Do you have a list of items
you need immediately?"

   We went on to discuss what essentials were in short supply.  Cuba needed
almost everything from toilet paper to gasoline.  With Ben assisting me, I
felt certain I could get ships out of Miami, Houston and New Orleans here
in a matter of days.  Ernesto offered tobacco, finished cigars, assorted
tropical produce, lumber and rum in trade.  The big holdup would be
financing.  When I mentioned that, Ben intervened.  The U.  S.  Commerce
Department had already anticipated this problem and would provide funding
to guarantee loans for covering the goods in transit.  With the backing of
our government, I realized my company was in a position to do an incredible
amount of business.  We negotiated for hours.  I had to keep reminding
myself that I was not talking with a factory owner but instead with the
leader of a country.  I hadn't handled deals this large before, but I began
to relax as we settled into a rhythm.  Brian and Stacy were taking notes,
keeping track of the details, and Felicita was helping them with
translations as necessary.

   We concluded our first day of negotiations just before sunset.  It
looked like it would be very profitable for us and would help with the
shortages Cuba had been experiencing.  For now, we were dealing only with
necessities, but there were promises of more arrangements in the coming
weeks for things like tourism and luxury items once the needs of the masses
had been met.  As we stood, Brian and Stacy straightened stacks of paper. I
almost laughed when I saw the paper they had been using.  At some point,
they must have filled the notepads they had brought and one of Ernesto's
staff had supplied them with extra paper, grabbing what was at hand.  It
was Fidel's official stationery.  I suppose it was scrap paper to the
Cubans now.

   Ernesto insisted on providing us with a security detail.  I thought he
meant an escort back to the hotel until he explained that we would have the
detail at our disposal until things were settled in the country.  I started
to protest but felt Ben gently prodding my side.  I got the message and
accepted gracefully.  We said our goodbyes and left, our heavily armed
guards leading the way.

   Felicita sat next to me in the car and I held her hand during the ride.
I hadn't had the chance to be close to her all afternoon.  Instead of
returning to the hotel, we went back to the Interests Section (actually the
old U.  S.  Embassy building) where Ben showed us our new office spaces. 
It wasn't normal practice for the U.  S.  government to provide offices to
private companies but, given the situation, it was the most secure location
and provided us needed access to our own government.  It would take a lot
of coordination with the U.  S.  government to pull off supplying the
fledging nation.  Given the emergency nature of the situation, we were
afforded much in the way of assistance and liberties.  To make it easier
for us to get around, Ben even provided us with a car and driver.

   We spent a few hours that evening getting organized in our new offices.
I called Ross at home and brought him up to speed on what had transpired
the previous afternoon.  He was overjoyed at the prospects.  There were
other companies that would also be arriving to do business with Cuba, but
we would have the lion's share of the U.  S.  trade.  He offered more
staff, and I gratefully accepted.  He also told me the airport was
reopening in the morning and Gustavo would be arriving.  I could expect the
rest of my staff by the middle of the week.  I knew he would be sending the
best people he could get.

   On Sunday Felicita took us to mass at the church of Jesus de Miramar,
near the other embassies, and then we worked the rest of the day.  Gustavo
arrived and took up his role.  He looked over what we were doing and, along
with Felicita, helped to keep our activities compatible with the local
culture.  In addition, he was able to review our contracts and other
documents.  Over the next few days, we settled in to our new offices.  The
Interests Section staff provided legal assistance.  Arrangements were
underway to restore diplomatic relations and reopen the embassy.  It was
still a mass of confusion, but things were improving.

   We had gone from having nothing to do but wait to being overwhelmed with
work.  I didn't want my staff to burnout from the sudden increase in pace.
I wanted to give everyone a break so I asked Felicita if we could all visit
her family for lunch one day.  It would be relaxing to get away to the
countryside.  She assured me her mother would be delighted to have us over.
I set it up for her to take the car and make the necessary arrangements
with her mother.

   Each day, we worked at coordinating shipments and finding buyers and
sellers.  Each night, we returned to the hotel.  Under the watchful eyes of
our Cuban security detail, we ate and retired to our rooms.  Alone at last,
Felicita and I made love.  We were blissful in the knowledge that we were
working together and going to stay together.  It was turning out so
differently from my last trip.

   One issue making news was what the new government was going to do with
Fidel.  Throughout the revolution, he had lain in state in the Capitol. 
His funeral scheduled for Monday didn't take place.  Instead, it was
decided that he deserved a burial but not at a monument.  He was given a
quiet funeral and buried in a cemetery in Havana.  I think the new
government was relieved to finally get him in the ground.

   The five of us, accompanied by our ever-present security detail, enjoyed
a wonderful afternoon with Felicita's family.  I had given Felicita money
to do the shopping and the entire family, aunts, uncles, cousins, took part
in the preparations and treated us like royalty.  They regarded us as
instrumental in bringing the sweeping changes to Cuba.  I didn't agree and
still felt the attention I was receiving was undeserved.

   Felicita's grandfather cornered me and kept me monopolized.  The men
told jokes, mostly at the expense of Fidel and his former government,
obviously enjoying their new-found liberties to talk freely.  Life was
changing before my eyes, and I was coming to the realization that it was
time for my life to make a change as well.

   There was a message waiting for me when we got back to the hotel that
night.  I called the number and ended up talking with a CNN producer who
wanted to do an interview with me, a follow-up piece to my phone call
during the "revolution".  I didn't want any part of it.  He reminded me
that I had an agreement with the State Department.  Of course, I didn't
have to do the interview, but people back home were curious to learn more
about me.  I had become a celebrity in the States, an unknown celebrity. 
He made me feel like I needed to do it, so I hedged a little.  I agreed to
do the interview if I could appear with the other three who had been with
me.  In reality, we had all taken part even though I was the voice on the
phone.  He accepted that.  The interview would take place live at the
hotel. Leah Coulter would fly down in two days to do the program.  It would
air in primetime, which meant 8:00 PM.  We'd all meet for drinks and snacks
to get acquainted, and then do the broadcast for an hour.

   The office was setup now and working efficiently.  I had a sizable staff
and we were even looking for our own office space.  I knew I couldn't
impose on the Chief of Section much longer.  The locations I had scouted
out on my first trip were all too small for the size operation we were
becoming.  I had a building in mind and was trying to negotiate a lease. 
It was a high rise on the Malecon overlooking the harbor.  I planned to
pump some money into the local economy by extensively renovating the space.
Most of the buildings in the city were old and badly in need of repair. 
Our operation was becoming very profitable, and I wanted to share some of
that with the city.  The frantic pace was slowing down a little for me as
our staff grew.  Brian was my assistant head of Cuban operations.  Stacy
also had secured a senior position.  Felicita was a senior staffer,
becoming quite indispensable herself.  I was glad to see that she was
earning a lot more than she ever could have as a taxi driver.  She and I
were looking for an apartment that would be more comfortable than the
hotel. The others also wanted to move out of the hotel into more permanent
accommodations.  I could even start to see a time when I would be able to
travel back to the states a little, leaving the office in capable hands. 
We'd need furnishings so I wanted to go back to move out of my apartment in
the States.  Before I did that, I had something else I needed to do.  The
time was right.

   The day of the interview finally came.  I arranged for the four of us to
take off that afternoon.  We dressed for the meeting with the lovely Ms. 
Coulter.  I went down to the lobby to retrieve one item from the hotel
safe. It had rested there since I had arrived.  At last, after many months
its time had arrived.

   I returned to the room and saw that Felicita was just about ready.  I
stepped into the other bedroom and pulled Brian aside.  I told him that I
was taking Felicita out alone for dinner after the broadcast.

   "Sure.  You two want some private time, eh?  That sounds great.  I might
do the same with Stacy.  We haven't had much time to ourselves to go out
lately."

   I agreed.  Things had been hectic in the office, but were finally
beginning to become routine.

   I went back into our room to check on Felicita when there was knock on
the door.  I answered it, finding the beautiful woman I was now used to
seeing on CNN Headline News.

   "Hi, Christopher.  I'm Leah Coulter."

   She was a little shorter than me.  Her complexion was dark but I
couldn't figure out the ethnicity.  Her accent was neutral, typical for a
newscaster.  She obviously hadn't grown up overseas.  Her long dark hair
set off her beauty.  Apparently, Leah saw I was taken by her appearance and
continued the conversation without me.

   "I recognized you from the pictures we used during the broadcast.  May I
come in?"

   Coming to my senses, I stepped aside.  "Please, come in."

   Leah walked in, looking around.  "Is this the room you called from?" she
asked as she walked to the window.

   "No.  We had to move to this part of the hotel because of the damage
done by the shelling.  The layout of the room is identical to the other one
but we're in a different part of the hotel now."

   She surveyed the room, as if committing the details to memory.  "I
thought we'd do the broadcast from the lobby.  It's not too busy down there
and we have room to setup the equipment." Turning around at the sound of
Felicita coming out of the bathroom, she continued with, "And you were
there as well, weren't you?"

   Felicita looked to me.

   "Leah, I would like you to meet my girlfriend, Felicita.  She was with
me that day."

   Felicita shook her hand.  "It's nice to meet you, Miss Coulter." Then,
looking down at Leah's left hand, she added, "I'm sorry, Mrs.  Coulter."

   "Please, call me Leah," she told Felicita.  "Besides, Coulter is my
maiden name.  I still use it for professional purposes."

   The other three heard the conversation and walked in from the next room.
Leah was introduced to Stacy, Brian and Gustavo.  Leah had obviously done
her homework because when she met Gustavo, she asked him, "You were not
here during the broadcast, were you?"

   "No, ma'am.  I was supposed to arrive that day.  When the airport was
shut down, my flight was grounded in Mexico.  I arrived a few days after."

   Leah nodded.  "So I will be interviewing just the four of you, right?"
she asked, indicating everyone except Gustavo.

   I nodded.  Then she suggested we have a light snack in the restaurant
downstairs to get better acquainted.  When we stepped off the elevator I
was stopped by the spectacle.  The lobby was being transformed into a
television studio.  Furniture was being moved, thick cables ran across the
floor, bright lights were being erected.  Ordinarily, this wouldn't have
been possible.  With the hotel still so empty, the few guests were already
watching the activity so there was little chance of anyone walking across
the lobby during the broadcast.

   Leah noticed my fascination.  "Don't worry about all that.  It will be
set up while we eat.  The viewers will only see us and the furniture."

   "Amazing," I said.

   "It was to me at first as well.  When I used to watch my father work, I
was fascinated by it all.  Now, it's just routine to me."

   Once we were seated at a large table in the middle of the room, Stacy
started up the conversation again.  She asked Leah, "Was your father a
reporter as well?"

   "No," Leah answered, "he was a television producer.  He came to work at
CNN in their earliest days before they even went on the air.  I grew up
around television, so I suppose it's not surprising I'd want to follow in
my Dad's footsteps.  My older sisters did other things but I wanted to work
in television just like my father."

   Leah then steered the conversation back to us.  She wanted to know about
our backgrounds and how we ended up together in a hotel room on the day of
"The Battle of Havana," as she called it.  Feeling certain it was now safe
to talk about my previous trip, I told how I had come here the year before
and met Felicita, and how she had helped me scout out business prospects. I
had returned home, heartbroken, to wait for a chance to return to Cuba. 
Leah asked Felicita about what the waiting was like for her.  Felicita held
on to my hand tightly as she told of the lonely months waiting and hoping
that I would return someday.

   I told her what had transpired after Fidel's death.  How I had recruited
Brian and Stacy as the core of my staff.  We had gotten permission to come
here legally.  Gustavo was held up in Mexico so it was just the three of
us. Leah wanted to hear more about Felicita, so I told her how we had
searched for each other until I found her in the bar behind the hotel. 
From there, we all took turns filling her in on how we had captured the
attention of the new Cuban government with our appearance on CNN and been
given lucrative contracts to import and export with the United States.

   Leah questioned us in detail on what was going on inside our hotel room
while the revolution took place below us.  We relived it for her as well as
we could remember.  I could tell that Felicita was nervous about all this
by the way her hand was sweating in my grasp.  For my part, I felt
confident and relaxed with her by my side.  The nervousness I felt was for
later that night.

   By the time we were getting up to leave, Leah asked my why I called
Castro by his first name.  I explained that is how the Cubans always
referred to him.  His people knew him, lovingly or fearfully, as Fidel.  I
had picked it up from them.

   It was then time to move to the lobby where we were prepared for our
broadcast.  Makeup was applied and lighting checked.  We were each fitted
with two microphones.  In addition, there was a microphone on an overhead
boom.  Nothing was being left to chance.  Hotel staff members were
stationed at the doors to prevent an unaware guest from wandering onto the
set.  The rest of the staff and guests were standing just behind the
cameras watching us.  As much as I disagreed, we were news.  It was
exciting to see news happening live so everybody wanted to watch.

   There were two sofas positioned at an angle, with a chair for Leah in
the middle.  We faced two television cameras and a crew of people.  Leah
explained that the microphones were noise canceling, so they would not pick
up the sounds of what was going on in front of us.  If sounds were made, we
were to ignore them.  There was a truck outside in front of the hotel where
the production of the program would take place, before being broadcast by
satellite to Atlanta.

   "We will be on the air for an hour, with three commercial breaks.  Does
anyone need the restroom or something to drink before we start?" No one
did. "OK, relax and enjoy it.  I'm going to ask you each questions,
starting with Chris.  Just speak clearly and slowly.  Answer the questions
just like we did in the restaurant.  Don't look at the monitor and try not
to be nervous."

   Then, she became silent.  All attention was now on the director.  He was
wearing a headset and listening to something while we waited.

   "One minute," he said loudly, looking around at his crew to confirm that
he was heard.  "They're just about to cut to us.  Standby."

   I took a deep breath.  I was sitting to Leah's right, with Felicita on
the other side of me gripping my hand.  With Felicita at my side, I had no
need to be nervous.  All was right with the world.

   The director started counting backwards from ten.  When he got to three,
he stopped saying the words but counted them on his fingers as he held them
up.  After one, he pointed a finger at Leah.

   "Good evening.  I am Leah Coulter, coming to you from the lovely Hotel
Nacional de Cuba in downtown Havana.  Joining me are the people who you may
have heard describing the startling events as they unfolded last week
during The Battle of Havana."

   She spoke smoothly and calmly, fully at ease, and she was so beautiful,
in person.  She introduced me as "The Voice of the Battle of Havana" and I
cringed.  I hated being given a title like that.  She introduced all of us
and then described briefly about how we came to be in Havana.  She told the
audience what we were doing here and the good we had already accomplished
with international trade for the Cuban people and for the United States. 
She made it sound like we had ended the trade embargo all by ourselves.

   Finally, she started asking questions.  She first talked with me about
how I had come to Cuba last year, illegally, and met Felicita.  The two of
us told of that first meeting.  Hearing Felicita talk about meeting me and
falling in love with me warmed my heart.  She spoke slowly and carefully,
not fully confident with her command of the English language.  She needn't
have worried because she spoke well.  I was proud of her and very much in
love with her.

   Next, the interview shifted to after I went back to the United States
and Felicita told what it was like to be left behind.  I had to wipe away a
few tears as she told of being alone in the airport when I left.  Brian and
Stacy got a turn as we discussed the events immediately after the death of
Fidel.  We told how the three of us came here and our first task was to
find Felicita.

   We were now up to what I originally thought the interview would be
about. Each of us told about watching the tanks approach.  We described how
we each felt, not sure what was going to happen to Cuba or to us.  When we
broke for commercials, we had a chance to drink water and relax.  Before I
realized it, our time was up.  The whole experience didn't seem like an
hour at all and I was surprised when Leah began to sum up the program.  She
thanked us all for taking the time to do the interview.

   When the broadcast ended, I think all four of us sighed heavily.  It was
stressful being on a live camera even though it went quickly.  I was glad
it was over.  Leah again thanked us.  Once it was all over, it was time to
focus on what was coming next.  While the staff and guests who had watched
the broadcast were talking with the five of us, I pulled Brian aside and
told him what I was going to do.  He was very excited to hear what was up
and readily agreed to do the favor I asked of him.  He assured me he and
Stacy would take care of everything while Felicita and I were out.

   Felicita was talking with Leah.  I got her attention and told her we
were going out to dinner.

   "Who's going?" she asked.

   "Just the two of us.  A romantic dinner."

   "Oh.  That sounds nice.  We haven't done that often enough.  Where are
we going?" she asked me.

   "It's a surprise."

   "I like surprises," she said eagerly.

   "You'll really like this one," I told her with a smile.  I hope.

   We said our goodbyes to Leah and the others.  As we were heading out the
door to get a taxi, I looked back and saw Brian whispering in Stacy's ear.
Stacy's face suddenly lit up, and she nodded as she looked at Brian.

   Felicita and I got in a taxi and headed for the restaurant I had picked
out.  As we drove along the street, I noticed the balloons in shop windows.
The balloons were not new.  I had seen them before, but now they were
everywhere.  They were helium balloons, white with a drawing of a palm tree
and the Cuban flag.  Large lettering proclaimed, "Viva Cuba Libre".  It had
become a slogan of the new democratic government.  The slogan wasn't new,
however.  It seemed that all Cuban governments, regardless of how
oppressive they turned out to be, proclaimed "Long Live Free Cuba".  This
time around, the meaning was even more poignant.  Everyone was hoping the
freedom would live a long time.

   We arrived at the restaurant.  It was nicer than any we had eaten at in
Havana and Felitica was very impressed.  She kept looking at me as if she
was going to ask what the special occasion was, but she didn't.  I'm not
sure if she could tell that something was up.  Her patience was, as always,
incredible.

   I was more nervous now.  The moment of truth was at hand.  We were
seated at our table and drinks had been ordered.  The waiter wouldn't be
back for a few minutes.  It was now or never.  I took a deep breath, two
actually.  I stood, my legs feeling shaky.  I reached into my pants pocket
as I dropped to one knee.

   Felicita started to ask, "Did I drop my napkin?" but she stopped halfway
through "napkin".  I was looking into her eyes, taking her left hand in my
right.  In my left hand I held the engagement ring.  The diamond sparkled
in the candlelight, but not nearly as brilliantly as the tears of joy in
her eyes.

   She gasped, unable to speak.

   "Felicita," I began.  I was overcoming my nervousness.  Seeing her
reaction, I felt confident of her answer.  "Will you marry me?"

   She just stared at me.  It was as if that moment in time was frozen. 
The only thing moving was a tear escaping from one eye and making a track
down her cheek.  She looked from my eyes to the ring I was holding, then
back to me as she nodded, an enormous smile lighting up her face.  The dam
had broken and tears were flowing freely down both cheeks as she nodded
vigorously.  My heart leapt for joy.  I felt ten feet tall, on top of the
world.  We were getting married!

   When that realization hit my brain, I felt a little unsteady.  I had
thought about it before, of course.  It just never seemed as concrete as it
did right at that moment.

   I let her straighten her hand and I placed the ring on her finger.  I
felt a pleasant pang in my heart as I slid the ring over her knuckle to
rest on her finger.  The ancients chose that finger because they believed
it had a vein that ran straight to the heart.  I imagined I could feel her
heart beating as my fingers slid over hers.

   I had admired the ring often when I took it out of the safe in my
office. I would look at it and try to imagine this day.  The diamond and
gold had never shone so magnificently as they did on her hand that night.
It was like the stone was picking up her life force, being illuminated by
the love we felt for each other.

   I realized we were still in the same positions.  She was sitting and
staring at me.  I was kneeling and staring at her.  I finally stood, still
holding her hand, and gave her a kiss before I sat down.  It was then I saw
the waiter patiently standing behind me.  He had witnessed the entire event
and waited discreetly for us to finish our moment.

   He smiled as he placed a basket of warm bread on the table.  The smell
of bread always makes me think of home, of the kitchen.  I realized that
Felicita and I would now be sharing a home.  For the rest of our lives.

   When I was seated, the couple from the next table offered their
congratulations.  Hearing it from someone else further drove home what I
had just done.  We were engaged.

   Felicita kept looking from my eyes to the ring on her finger, then back
to me.  She was positively giddy, giggling with delight.  It made me feel
warm inside to see her so happy.  I had ordered champagne.  Felicita had
never tasted it before.  I was getting to share my life with her, as she
had shared hers with me.  We ate our first meal as an engaged couple.  The
dinner was everything I had hoped it would be.  And a little more.  Several
people came to the table to congratulate us.  One man startled me when he
congratulated us by name.

   "Do I know you?" I asked with a smile.  I have a problem with
remembering people's names but I really didn't remember meeting him before.

   "No, we haven't met.  I saw you on CNN tonight."

   "Oh.  Thank you," I replied.  I was starting to really hate the
celebrity part.

   When the others in the restaurant overheard that, even more people
wanted to congratulate us.  Fortunately, dinner was over and we could bow
out gracefully.  After all, it was time to get back to the hotel.  The next
celebration was about to begin.

   I had asked Brian to do a big favor for me - for us, really.  The moment
was right to ask Felicita to marry me.  I wanted her family to be a part of
that, but I couldn't arrange to speak to them before I popped the question.
I knew they would approve and I had a plan to include them albeit after the
fact.  I wanted very much for Felicita to be able to share this event with
her mother.  Just before we left the hotel, I asked Brian to go get
Felicita's mother and grandfather.  He agreed to bring them back to the
hotel and get them a room for the night because we would be getting back so
late.  It would be a nice quiet family celebration.

   The taxi pulled up to the door and the doorman opened the door for us. I
helped Felicita out of the car, taking her right hand.  As she was getting
out, the light caught the diamond in her ring and my heart just about
melted.  I escorted her, my fianc�e, up the marble staircase and into the
lobby.

   OK, this was not what I had in mind when I asked Brian to set up a small
family gathering.  The CNN crew had removed all their equipment, but the
furniture was still in the middle of the lobby.  Seated on one of the sofas
facing the door were Felicita's mother and grandfather.  Around them was
the staff of the hotel.  Many of those white balloons decorated the lobby.
It was like stepping onto a movie set.  It was not what I had envisioned,
but it was a celebration of the scale that matched what I was feeling in my
heart.

   The evening was turning out much more public than I had in mind.  As
long as I was with Felicita, it was perfect.  We walked into that room,
hand in hand.  The sofa was positioned like a throne.  Her mother's eyes
lit up when she saw the two of us.  We went to her mother, kneeling to
descend to her level.  It was a profound moment.  Two weeks ago, they were
ordinary people living in the countryside on the outskirts of Havana,
subject to the whims of Fidel Castro.  Tonight, they were the center of
attention in the lobby of the Hotel Nacional, ensconced like royalty.  Life
can be funny like that sometimes.

   We celebrated with our extended family in the lobby, toasting with
champagne supplied by the hotel.  I stood before her grandfather.

   "I wanted to ask you for your granddaughter's hand in marriage before
tonight, but it didn't work out.  May I ask now?"

   The old man smiled and reached for my right hand with both of his. 
"Make her happy, Christopher.  Give her a happy life.  You are a good man
and it makes me proud to give you my blessing," he told me.  I hugged him.
As he put his arm around my back, I felt the years of experience, suffering
and hardship in the grip.  He had lived through so much and now he was
giving me permission to marry his precious granddaughter.  I felt both
happy and humble at that moment.  I vowed to give Felicita all the
happiness I could.

   We parted and I found Felicita at my side, smiling broadly.  I took her
in my arms and kissed her, to the applause of the crowd in the lobby. 
Glasses were raised and Brian loudly announced a toast to our happiness. 
After the subdued and cautious atmosphere that had prevailed in the hotel
since the revolution began, everybody was anxious for a celebration.

   I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to find myself facing Leah
Coulter.

   "Leah!  I thought you had left for Atlanta," I said.

   "I'm flying out in the morning.  I'm glad I got to be here for the
celebration.  Congratulations!  You two look so happy together."

   "Thank you, Leah," Felicita said, accepting Leah's good wishes.  "I'm
pretty lucky, aren't I?"

   "Yes, you are.  Love doesn't always work out so well.  It's nice to see
it when it does," Leah told her.

   We accepted many good wishes that night.  In time, the celebration came
to an end.  I had hoped we would get to bed before we were exhausted.  We
escorted Felicita's mother and grandfather to their room.  Brian had
thoughtfully gotten them a room several doors down from ours.  Just before
we left them, Felicita's mother told her daughter, "Your father would have
been so proud to see you marrying such a fine young man."

   We left them for the evening.  Brian had been waiting for us in the
hall. He explained that when he went to the desk to arrange for an extra
room, he told them why.  They insisted on setting up the event for us. 
They considered us their family and wanted to take care of us.  He and
Stacy went to pick up Felicita's family, leaving the preparations to the
hotel staff.  Stacy asked them to try to get some balloons.  The only ones
the hotel could get with such short notice were the "Viva Cuba Libre" white
ones, so that became the theme.  "White is for weddings, after all," he
told me.  I thanked him and he went to join Stacy in their room.  I
unlocked our door and we stepped inside, alone at last.  I looked into the
eyes of my lovely Felicita, seeing in there all the happiness the world had
to give.  I took her in my arms, pulling her delicate body against mine.  I
could feel her pressed against me.  As expected, my excitement made itself
felt.

   "Ooh, I thought I'd never get to feel that tonight," she said as she
looked into my eyes.

   "My love, it's always here for you.  You, alone," I told her.

   Felicita took a step back and reached behind her, undoing the clasp at
the neck of her dress.  She let the garment fall to the floor, forming a
shimmering puddle at her feet.  I swallowed as I gazed at the beauty
revealed before me.  I couldn't believe this lovely creature was really
going to marry me.  My life had changed so much in only nine months.  I was
shaken back to the present by the view before me.  Felicita was standing
there dressed in her Victoria's Secret bra and thong set.  My dick
obediently became fully hard.  I saw her eyes drift downward and the change
in her expression told me she had noticed.  A small smile appeared on her
face.  Not a grin, just a tiny, satisfied smile.  Maybe a smile of
acknowledgement of a pleasure to come.  Her eyes moved back up to mine. 
She looked questioningly at me.  I smiled as well, kicking off my shoes and
starting to unbutton my shirt.  She helped me.  Together, we had me down to
my underwear in short order.  I took her in my arms and kissed her, feeling
every square inch of her warm skin pressed against mine.  My right hand
slid down her back, down the middle of the thong.  I pressed my hand
against both of her ass cheeks, not even able to feel the thin silk strap
that formed the back of her panties.  All I felt was her flesh.  She was
moving her crotch against the bulge in my last remaining piece of clothing
and moaning into my mouth.  Our lips parted leaving us both breathless.  We
were looking into each other's eyes and we were practically panting.

   "I want you so much right now," I told her as I sighed heavily.

   "I am all yours...  only yours," she said with a moan.

   I felt a weakness pass through my body, accompanied with a pleasant pain
in my stomach, as I listened to her words.  I moved both of my hands to the
middle of her back and felt for the clasp of her bra.  I found it and
released her soft globes from their sensual silk enclosure.  She let me
pull the bra from her arms.  It almost soundlessly joined her dress on the
floor.  I looked into her eyes and smiled as my hands explored her breasts.
I could feel her nipples responding to my touch and hardening.  For her
part, Felicita looked at me with hooded eyes and let a gentle moan escape
her lips.  Holding her eyes with mine, I bent down and took one nipple in
my lips, gently pulling on it.  She sighed with pleasure as I tugged.

   I smiled around her nipple.  I felt such pleasure knowing I was giving
her pleasure.  My whole being existed at that moment to fulfill my
Felicita's desires.  The wants of my erection weren't even a consideration.
I was seeking satisfaction in pleasing her.  I shifted to the other nipple,
letting my tongue pass through the valley of her cleavage as I moved.  Down
one mound and up the other, I felt my dick throb with pleasure in reaction
to what my tongue was feeling.  She reacted as before when I sucked on the
other nipple.  My right hand drifted down her trim stomach to the small
patch of silk that still covered her pussy.  I smiled around the stiff
nipple sticking through my lips as I felt how wet the silk had become. 
Ordinarily, I would have been thinking that she was getting wet so I could
fuck her.  Tonight, my thoughts were of how she was becoming wet because of
the desire I was awakening in her.  Seeking my own pleasure wasn't in my
thoughts.

   I tilted my head back further as I started to move lower.  I didn't
release the nipple at once, causing my lips to tug on it until it finally
popped free of my mouth.  She hissed when the contact was broken.  I was on
my knees now.  I could see that the outside of the silk was coated with her
juices.  In my mind's eye, I imagined what her pussy must look like now,
the hair all matted with her wetness.  I extended my tongue and licked the
front of her thong, causing her to groan at the contact.  To increase her
pleasure, I pressed my tongue firmly into her slit, pushing the slick silk
into her groove as well.

   I enjoyed the taste, the smell, and the texture of her lubrication.  She
spread her legs a little, for stability, and gripped the back of my head. I
glanced up without my tongue breaking contact and saw her head leaning
back. She was focusing on the feeling I was causing between her legs and I
didn't even have her panties off yet.  I felt proud.

   A few more licks and then I grabbed the waistband of her skimpy panties.
I slowly pulled them down, watching how the juices matted in her hair
stretched into a strand still connected to the soft fabric of her thong. 
She was so wet and it was because of me, of what I was doing to her.  I
felt so happy because of the effect my actions were having on her.

   She stepped out of the panties when I got them to her ankles.  I rubbed
the slippery inside of the crotch against my hard shaft, enjoying the feel
of her wetness.  I had captured a moment of pleasure solely for myself and
I felt a little guilty.  I turned back to her pussy, determined to make up
for that transgression.  I wrapped my arms around her ass, pulling her
against my face.  I opened my mouth and sucked on her pussy, my tongue
probing her hole and my lips trying to apply suction to her clit.  It was
working, judging by the sounds she was making.

   "Enough!" she cried.  "I have to get to the bed or I will fall down."

   I relented, letting her stagger to the bed.  I crawled after her,
burying my face between her legs again once she was lying down.  I ate her
pussy until she came and then had to take a break.  Her hands shifted from
pulling my face into her pussy to pushing me away.

   "Too sensitive," she cried, trying to move away from me.

   When I lifted my face from her, my cheeks felt like they were coated
with her fluids.  I looked up and smiled.  I must have been quite a sight.
I reached for the edge of the sheet and wiped my face, making the corner of
the sheet wet.  I didn't mind having her on me, but I didn't want to
overwhelm her when we kissed.  I could see that Felicita's hair was damp.
She had cum so hard that she was sweating.

   She was looking at me.  "I don't know if I'll be able to stand being
married to you.  I can't take this every night." She was breathing hard,
her legs closing protectively as I moved to the side.  I moved up beside
her.  She turned her head and kissed me deeply.  I was glad I had made an
attempt at cleaning my face.  I know she didn't mind tasting herself on me,
but tonight would have been an extreme situation.

   Then it hit me what she had said.  I had never heard her say that
before. Married.  As in she and I.  My heart pounded as I thought about
that.  I kissed her harder, causing both of us to moan.  She broke the
kiss.

   "My turn," she said with a grin, pushing me onto my back.  If she
intended to do what I had just done to her, I was in trouble.  She would
give me pleasure I couldn't withstand.

   That is exactly what she had in mind.  She attacked my cock with a
vengeance, licking and sucking as she looked up at me.  The feelings were
so intense that I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open so I could
watch her.  She was seeing to it that I felt what she had experienced.  I
gave up trying to last.  I knew I wouldn't be able to with her sucking me
so exquisitely.  It wasn't long before I tensed up and felt the throbbing
starting at the base of my dick.  Through squinted eyes, I saw the look of
excitement in her eyes as she realized I was starting to cum.  She
redoubled her efforts.  The pleasure built almost to the point of pain as
my dick pulsed.  Then, I felt that liquid sensation as I started spurting
into her mouth.  I cried out.  The ejaculation was so intense that it felt
like I was turning inside out through the opening in the end of my dick.  I
was vaguely aware of Felicita swallowing.  I pushed my head back into the
pillow, grabbed at the sheets with my fists, and came.  She didn't let up
when I finished cumming.  She kept sucking.  In an instant, the intense
pleasure changed to pain.  As much as I wanted it to continue, the pleasure
was too great to endure.  Even though I tried to fight the urge, I
involuntarily pushed her away from my dick.

   She was grinning as soon as my dick left her lips.  She clearly enjoyed
giving me pleasure as well.  I grabbed her hands and pulled her up to me.
She crawled over me and lay down on top of me.  We kissed, my tongue where
my dick had been only moments before.  I held her pressed against me,
savoring the sensation of skin on skin.  We kissed like that for a long
time, enjoying the closeness and the togetherness.

   In time, my erection returned.  She gave a pleasant moan of surprise
when she felt it pressing against her.  She got up and took a condom out of
the nightstand drawer.  She turned around and bent over me, expertly
fitting the condom on me.  When I was suitably attired, she put her hands
on my chest and lifted her left leg over me, settling into a kneeling
position with her pussy positioned over my dick.  She gripped my dick in
her left hand and stroked while she plunged the index finger of her right
deeply into her pussy.  She knew I would enjoy the sight.  When I could
finally tear my eyes away from the image of her wet lips poised over the
end of my erection just for a moment, I saw her looking at me.  She held my
gaze as she lowered herself.  When I felt her lips make contact, I couldn't
help it.  I returned my attention to where our bodies were joining.  I
heard a long drawn out moan and looked up again, seeing her arch backwards.
Her eyes were closed and she was now gripping a breast in each hand as she
felt my cock entering her channel fully.  I reveled in the tight warmth as
she enjoyed the thick fullness.

   The vision of her slender body impaled on my member was a thing of
beauty.  We had left the lights on and I was glad we had.  I was as
entranced by the vision of her loveliness as she fucked me as by the
feeling of my dick being caressed by her pussy.  I was so in love with this
woman who had accepted my proposal of marriage.  As her hands left her
breasts to run through her hair, I caught the sparkle of the new ring on
her finger.

   "Are you watching me?" she asked shyly.

   "Yes," I answered truthfully.

   "Why?"

   "Because you are so beautiful," I said.

   "I am not," she retorted.

   "But you are," I persisted.

   She thought about that a moment.  Then, realizing I wouldn't relent, she
smiled slyly and told me, "Then look, because this body is all yours. 
Forever."

   I wanted to answer but I could only groan.  She was tightening her
muscles, causing her pussy to squeeze my dick as she rode me.  The feelings
combined with the sights were driving me to the point of incoherence.  I
ran my hands up her sides and to her breasts.  I pinched her nipples the
way she liked and she groaned as well.  She leaned forward, perhaps to put
her nipples within reach of my mouth or perhaps to cause her clit to rub
against my shaft.  Regardless of her intention, I reached up with my mouth
and captured a nipple in my mouth.  She started to cum.  I put my arms
around her and slid my hands down to her butt, holding her tightly as I
forced myself up into her again and again.

   When her orgasm peaked, she suddenly sat upright.  I held on to the
nipple tightly with my lips as long as I could.  When it finally escaped my
mouth, she cried out in ecstasy.  Even though she had stopped moving, I
continued to thrust, fucking her through her orgasm.  She resumed her own
motion once her peak has passed.  It was a moment or two later before she
opened her eyes and focused on me.

   "My first time making love to my fianc�," she said with a smile.

   "There will be many more.  I promise."

   "I want you on top of me when you cum.  I like to feel it shooting into
me while you hold me in your arms," she said.  She leaned forward onto me;
I grabbed her ass and held us together firmly, and rolled us over.  That
doesn't always work, but it did that time.  We ended up with my dick still
embedded deeply inside her and with her now on the bottom.  She wrapped her
legs around mine and grabbed my butt.  I put my arms under her shoulders
and kissed her as I screwed her hard.

   Moans escaped our joined lips.  I felt my climax approaching and
redoubled my efforts.  She could feel it as well.  She was now caressing
and kneading my butt cheeks, and rubbing her legs against the backs of
mine. As I was just about to cum, I opened my eyes and found hers already
open.  It surprised her that I had caught her looking at me in the middle
of a kiss, but I was too far gone to comment.  Two more thrusts and I
started spurting.  Instinctively, I held myself as far inside her as I
could reach and filled the condom with sperm.

   Our lips parted so I could take a deep breath.  "That was so nice," she
sighed.

   "Yes, so nice," I echoed.

   We held onto each other as we recovered.  When my erection started to
soften, I got up to dispose of the condom.  I turned out the lights, and
then took her by the hand.

   "Let's make love in front of the window," I suggested.  Some of our
profoundest moments had been spent naked looking out at the lights of
Havana.  Now that peace and freedom had come to the city, we could look out
with hope and promise instead of despair and longing.

   I opened the curtains of the darkened room.  The lights of the city
gently illuminated her nude form.  She passed by me, brushing her breasts
against my chest.  She had grabbed another condom as she had gotten out of
bed.  She knelt down to put it on me but I wasn't ready yet.  She stroked
me to hasten the return of my erection.  It took some time to get me hard,
but I knew I would be able to last a long time now, with the two orgasms I
had already experienced that night.  Next, Felicita put her palms against
the window and took a few steps back.  She was leaning forward against the
glass.  I stepped up to her lovely behind and reached for her lips, finding
them delightfully slippery against my probing fingers.

   I guided my erection to her opening, gripping her by her hips as I
pushed myself into her pussy.  Her palms were flat against the glass.  I
felt her pushing back against me as she moaned, "Oohhh..."

   I smiled in the darkness, happy that I was again giving her great
pleasure.  I looked past her shoulder at the lights of the city.  They were
keeping watch over a free Cuba, a Cuba that would not keep us apart ever
again.  I made love to my fianc�e in the night.  As we progressed, I could
see that the glass was fogging up a little where her palms were getting
sweaty.  It would leave an interesting smear on the glass for the maid to
discover.

   We both tired of the standing position after a time and we returned to
the bed.  She was on her back with her legs draped over my shoulders.  I
couldn't see much more than her outline but it was a beautiful outline.  I
could just make out her breasts jiggling with my thrusts.  When I finally
came, I leaned forward and pressed her legs back against her chest.  This
let me probe even deeper into her pussy and ejaculate against her cervix.
My actions triggered her orgasm.

   After we disentangled and cleaned up, we returned to bed and snuggled. I
was on my back and she was on her side.  Her legs were partly draped over
mine and my arm was around her back.  I could feel her moving ever so
slightly in the dark.  I finally craned my neck to see what she was doing.
When she realized I could see what she was up to, she gave an embarrassed
giggle.

   "What are you doing?" I asked.

   Felicita answered, "I'm watching the diamond catch the light." The dim
light filtering through the window was causing very tiny sparkles in the
stone of her engagement ring.  I giggled with her.

   "I can't help it," she told me.  "It's beautiful."

   "I had to pick that one.  It was the only one beautiful enough for you."

   "Oh, Christopher, I can't believe it's real." She sighed heavily.  "It's
all like a dream."

   "It's not a dream.  It's very real, my love."

   She was quiet for a few minutes, watching the light reflecting off her
new diamond.  Then, she spoke again.  "How did you know my sizes?"

   "Easy.  I guessed."

   "You're very good at that."

   "Thank you.  I had a lot of motivation to get it right."

   I felt her head turn towards me.  "I don't know that word."

   "Oh, it means I had a good reason to get it right.  There was a big
reward for me if I got it right."

   "Do you mean I am your reward?" she asked timidly, softly, as if in a
whisper.

   "Yes, I do." Thinking about the particular words I had used made my
heart leap.

   She looked up and kissed me.  Then she pressed her cheek against me. 
Before long, I felt her hand moving as she played with her diamond in the
light again.  I giggled.

   "What?" she asked.

   "You're doing it again, aren't you?"

   "Doing what?" She hurriedly put her hand down.

   "It's OK," I told her.  "I want you to do it."

   She paused before lifting her hand again.  I smiled.  We fell asleep
that way, wrapped around each other.

   When I woke the next morning, we were still side-by-side.  We had
shifted a little in our sleep.  My arm was no longer around her and she was
using my chest as a pillow.  I watched her sleep, her head moving gently as
I breathed.  Her left hand was resting on my chest.  I smiled as I realized
it must have fallen there when she could no longer hold it up to the light.
I had time to think while I waited for her to wake up.  I thought of the
wedding we needed to plan.  I didn't have any family to invite, unlike her.
Then I realized that I did have family.  Before I had left for Cuba, one of
the last things Ross said to me was, "Invite me to the wedding." He was my
family.  He, and Agnes, and Mike, and even Bill.  The company was my
family. I had a phone call to make when I got to the office.

   Felicita awoke with the delicateness of an angel.  Or maybe a kitten,
because she became playful shortly after waking up.  We made love before
our morning shower.

   We found Brian and Stacy already at breakfast when we got downstairs.

   "We let you sleep in," Stacy explained.  "You had a late night."

   Felicita thought for a moment and blushed heavily.  She leaned over to
me and whispered in my ear, "We were too noisy again."

   I grinned.  Stacy realized what was Felicita was thinking and started to
apologize.  "I didn't mean, I mean, uh, no, the party, well..."

   "It's all right, Stacy.  I know what you meant."

   Stacy gave me an embarrassed smile of gratitude.  In an attempt to
change the subject, she looked to Felicita and asked, "Would you like any
help planning the wedding?"



   To Be Continued in Chapter 6 - The Trip Home

   This story is Copyright (C) 2004 by Strickland83.  All rights reserved.
Leah Coulter appears courtesy of Nick Scipio.  The Summer Camp characters
and universe are Copyright (c) 2002-2004 Nick Scipio.

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