Siete minutos, Ismael Camacho Arango [read with me TXT] 📗

Kissing Homer’s cheek, she handed him the roses she had bought in her way to the docks
“I wish you a good journey, Mr. Homer,” she said in Spanish.
“Thank you,” he said.
Kissing him, she left the aroma of her hair on his clothes, her teats trembling under her bra.
“Come with me,” he said.
“I can’t,” she said.
Then he kissed her, his hands straying along her body as she caressed his face and the photographers took pictures of the farewell. He muttered a few things in her ear, while feeling her teats in the flatness of her chest.
“You are a boy,” he said.
“Hurrah to our country,” she said.
Holding the flowers, he went up the steps of one of the ship while the public sang the national anthem of his country. He wanted to conquer the world like his parents had done before time, as Cesar appeared by his side holding a glass of Alka seltzer.
“I didn’t forget your sea sickness,” he said.
“You are a genius,” Homer said.
It refreshed his insides before the journey started, the sound of the cannons interrupting his concentration while the statue of liberty bid them farewell. Holding the rails, Homer tried to ignore the motion of the ship in spite of the medicine Cesar had given him.
“I’ll take you to your room,” he said.
They made their way to the lower deck, where some of the sailors checked the boxes of the ammunition to liberate a country.
“Hi Mr. Homer,” they said.
Homer held the walls in order to keep his balance amidst the nausea invading his senses. Cesar helped him along a corridor flanked by rooms on either side
“This is your cabin,” he said, pushing Homer inside one of the rooms, where a bed waited for him in a corner amidst the white walls.
“I’ll look after the ship,” he said.
“I want to chew some coca,” Homer said.
“I don’t have any of it here.”
Homer had to rest from the spirits of the deep, even though he had just started his journey. He went to sleep, his soul floating through the ether in his way to heaven, where Kam had fun amidst the hammock. As a hand shook him awake, Homer opened his eyes to the light of another day and a plump man by Cesar’s side.
“Why are we going south? He asked. “Europe is to the east.”
Homer didn’t want to go to Europe, where they might sink his expensive boats.
“We are helping the war effort,” he said.
“Is it in Latin America?”
Homer smiled. “Those countries are part of our mission.”
“I see,” the sailor said.
“Europe is dangerous,” Homer said.
Homer tried to go back to Kam, before she left the hammock. He had to do business with the world in the name of freedom, the clock moving towards the end.


Salvacion
“Land,” someone said.
As Homer looked out of his porthole, he saw trees in the distance. It had to be one of those islands in the Caribbean Sea as a fleet of boats approached them.
“Are they pirates?” Homer asked.
Cesar put the cards on the table.
“We don’t have pirates in Salvacion,” he said. “Welcome to my country, Mr. Homer.”
“I hope they buy my tanks,” Homer said.
“They will.”
As Homer got ready to disembark beyond the waves, he hoped to do a good business with a country far from the war in Europe.
“Are you ready?” Cesar asked.
Homer blinked on seeing the sun, while the band played by the pool and a man dressed in a smart uniform smoked a cigar. He smiled before pushing his glasses up his nose.
“This is the president,” Cesar said.
Homer shook hands with the stranger, who talked all the time.
“I’m glad to meet you, Excellency,” he said.
The president nodded. “I have seen your pictures in the papers.”
The band played the national hymn as the president led him to a table full of papers, where a few pretty senoritas waited.
“We welcome you to my country, Mr. Homer,” The president said.
“Thank you, Excellency,” Homer said. “I have canons, airplanes and guns.”
“Are they good?”
“You must see them, Excellency.”
After a few moments, the tanks drove towards the ramp, the soldiers pushing the machine guns along the deck.
“Everything is cheap,” Homer said.
“God bless Mr. Roosevelt,” the president said.
“Your neighbours have to be taught a lesson.”
The president puffed his cigar, looking for any imperfections in the armour.
“Atenagoras,” he called.
A small man wearing sailor clothes and a blue hat appeared by his side.
“Can you bring me my check book?” he asked.
Atenagoras disappeared through one of the doors, while the sailors brought more tanks for the president to see.
“We lost a few islands last year,” he said.
“You mustn’t worry this time, Excellency,” Homer said.
“I thought so.”
Atenagoras appeared with the cheque book and some glasses of wine in a tray a few moments later.
“It is two million dollars Excellency,” Homer said.
The president hesitated before writing down such a large sum but his country would thank him for his efforts, while the band played a salsa.
“Salvacion will be fine now,” Homer said.
“The best country in the world,” the president said.
A sailor poured champagne in their glasses, as everyone cheered.
“Hurrah to the president,” they said.
They toasted to the armaments the president had bought, the senoritas enlivening the moment with their charms.
“We have the best women in the world,” the president said.
“I believe you, Excellency.”
“Let’s drink to that,” the president said.
“That’s a good idea.”
The band played a salsa as a pretty girl stood by their side, her black hair falling down her breasts, while looking at Homer through long lashes.
“You are beautiful,” he said. “Would you like to dance?”
“Yes,” she said.
Homer practiced the dance steps Maria had taught him in the shop, the music turning him on.
“You dance well,” she said.
“Do you want to fuck?” he asked.
“I’m a virgin.”
“I’ve heard that excuse many times.”
He caressed her breasts, while feeling her body with trembling fingers.
“I’ll marry you,” he said.
“You are funny.”
As the music echoed around them, his hands searched for her cunt, hiding amidst her pants.
“Shall we go to my cabin?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“I’ll pay you well.”
She touched his cock as the skies erupted and the world dissolved in rain. Then he entered her slowly, savouring every moment, while sending millions of sperm towards her ovum.
“You must marry me,” she said.
“I have a wife,” he said.
“Is she in new York?”
“No.”
He went to sleep by her side, the music of the party bringing him nice dreams but she had gone when he awoke in the morning. Homer didn’t know if she had existed or his imagination had played tricks on that night of pleasure.
After leaving Salvacion, the ship sailed through the Caribbean Sea with a few tanks, some armaments and Atenagoras, who wanted to help the world. Homer had to rest before doing more business in the sea.
“I’m going to bed,” he said.
“You haven’t greeted the crew yet,” Cesar said.
“I’ll do that later.”
Cesar followed him to his cabin beneath the deck. After lying down in his bunk, Homer shut his eyes to a world full of misery.
“I’m thirsty,” he said.
As Cesar brought him a glass of water, Homer took more medicine for his sea sickness making his life impossible.
“Sailors used to eat salty meat and hard biscuits a long time ago,” Cesar said.
Homer imagined those times, when they didn’t have a cooling box to keep the food fresh in their journeys across the sea.
“Captain Morgan hid a treasure in the Caribbean Sea,” Cesar said.
“Has anyone found it?” Homer asked.
“No.”
On falling asleep, Homer dreamed of Morgan’s gold in the sea as Maria sucked his cock forever.