Rod Long - In Sexual Pursuit

Man, that cousin of ours is some fine-looking cunt." Young, dark-haired Bernardo Mendosa said to his older brother as they stepped up on the broken-down porch of their house. "She can fuck too. I mean the way that little bitch screws, you'd think she was addicted to cocks!"

"Bernardo, you know that the girl is not yet out of her teens," his older brother said seriously, not used to hearing his younger brother talking that way, especially about a young girl he was supposed to marry.

Bernardo had been sent up to New York three months ago to meet his father's cousins, the only other members of the Mendosa family to have escaped from Cuba. Most of the others had either been imprisoned or executed. It had been the dream of the heads of the American Mendosas to reunite the family by marrying the youngest of the Miami Mendosa family to the daughter of the cousins in New York.

Bernardo had apparently gotten to know more about his fiancee in those months than he should have been allowed to. But the girl seemed to have been the one to have initiated the move for him to fuck her. She might be just the right, over-sexed little vixen Bernardo would need to keep him interested in her until they were married.

Their father had dreamed of such a marriage for so long and he, Salvador Mendosa, was going to make sure that Bernardo carried out his father's wishes.

They had reached the door now, and Salvador fumbled in his pocket for the house keys. He always locked the door of the house, no matter who was at home, because the leaders of the Morros, the most feared street gang in the city, had to always watch their backs. Even their own houses and kin were not safe from attack.

Both Mendosa boys were proud to be members of the Morros, a gang started by their father when he had first arrived in the States from Cuba. Times had been hard on Cubans in those days. Fleeing their country, having to leave behind relatives and property. They got their freedom all right, that was the reason they had fled Cuba, and they embraced it with their souls, but they had to pay a price, to some a terrible price. Leonardo, the boys' father, had been one of the lucky ones, but still he had had to fight out his existence, live from day to day and hope that tomorrow would not be his last, for the Cubans were a minority and because of their limited numbers and their differences, they were easy targets for the larger groups such as the Puerto Ricans or the Blacks.

Finally, after much suffering at the hands of the other street gangs, Leonardo had gotten together with some of his young Cuban friends and formed a street gang of their own. They had chosen their name carefully, realizing that it would be the strength of their group. They had named themselves the Morros, the Spanish word for Arab, after the Arabs who had conquered through rape and pillage the country of their ancestors, Spain, during its long and bloody history. It was the Morros's turn now to conquer this new land that they had chosen until they too would be accepted as one of its own people.

Leonardo had been the Morros's first leader and now his oldest son, Salvador, had that honor with Bernardo as his right hand man. And their sons would probably also be members if not leaders of the gang some day, for that was the way it had always been with the gangs of the streets.

Salvador slipped the key in the lock and opened the front door carefully making sure that there were no rival gang members hiding in wait inside, and once satisfied, he opened the door wide for his young brother to pass.

"One thing, brother," he said suddenly reaching out and holding him by the arm. "You can't speak of Rosita to our father in the manner you have been speaking to me. He is of the old school and he would not understand such language or behavior." He looked at his brother seriously and saw a sudden glint of anger flash through his brother's eyes.

"You should know better than that, Salvador." He removed his arm with careful deliberation from the grasp of his brother. "Our father has suffered a stroke; he is sick and old. Do you think I would tell a helpless man like him what I have just told you? Rosita is charming," he continued, a hard glint in his eye, "and fucks like a whore, but one does not tell a story like that to one's father. Now, where is he? I wish to see him."

"He's probably sleeping now. Come have some coffee, and by the time you are through he will have awakened."

"Sounds good to me, and I can tell you more about our distant young cousin Rosita," Bernardo said and their footsteps faded down the tiny hall to the kitchen.

Leonardo Mendosa, lying half-paralyzed in his bed in his bedroom off of the main hall, had heard his two young sons come in. He was glad that his younger boy had had a safe journey from New York and had also enjoyed himself while he was there. He did not particularly like some of the things Bernardo had said about his cousin, it was not proper for a man to speak of such things to other men, even one's brothers. He just did not understand young people these days, they were so lacking in manners and gallantry. Had he spoken that way about his intended bride, his father would have beaten him to within an inch of his life.

No, whatever he and his bride-to-be, Isabella de Vanquez, had done before their marriage, had been their secret. Had his father known what they had actually done on the days they were out alone together, he would not have beaten him, he would have killed him. But that had been so many years ago, so many years ago.

For a moment, the old, grey-haired man let his mind wander back to the days when he was a young man and he had first fallen in love with the beautiful Isabella.

The Mendosa family had been in Cuba for generations as had the de Vanquez family. The Mendosas owned a large tobacco plantation where the tobacco was grown for the cigars Cuba was famous for. Leonardo had been promised since birth to the young Isabella, but he didn't mind, it would not be a loveless match for either of them, in fact the sooner they were married, the better, for they were already fucking like they were man and wife.

Leonardo and his beautiful golden-haired Isabella had been attracted to each other for many years. It was an attraction that had been very difficult for them, for in the formal world of the Spanish the woman must remain a virgin until marriage. But somehow, it had not proved to be a problem for long, for soon the two of them had developed a way to get rid of their chaperones and be alone, to talk and to screw. They had spent many happy hours when they were together and neither of them could wait until they were finally married and could be together always and not for just a few stolen hours at a time.

He sent his memory back across the years to the first time he had fucked Isabella and to all the other times, one in particular that he remembered above all others. It had happened in the summertime and to this day was still one of the best screws he ever had.

The Mendosa family had several houses on Cuba, one in the city for their winter living and one on Cayo Smith, an island in the middle of Santiago Bay. The house on Cayo Smith was Leonardo's favorite house, and every summer of his life, he and his family went there to spend the hot summer months. A small road ran all of the way around the island and the houses were sprawling mansions below the road. Sometimes all of the young people of the Island would have races to see who could swim around it, but it was done more for fun than competition.

The Mendosa house was surrounded by gardens full of the exotic colors of tropical flowers and trees and down by the water, buried deep within the bright green foliage, was the secret meeting place of Isabella and Leonardo, the white garden pavilion his grandmother had ordered from Europe when she had first been married. It was there, and only there where the young couple could be alone from their families, for the pavilion was almost a forgotten part of the garden.