Latin Lovers

Latin Lovers

Now, when it comes to my favorite kind of guy, Italians are at the top of my hit parade, followed by Middle Eastern, (my long-time partner was Lebanese) and Black Irish (black as in dark hair not race). But, since l live in south Florida, l’ve also had my share of Latins, hot Latins like those super hairy Cubans or my Leather Latin Stallion fuck buddy whose semi hairy body was sculpted by Michelangelo.

Then there are the guys who fit the somewhat derogatory label of “Latin Lovers,” to a T, you know, the ones who are super passionate one week and as frigid as Antarctica the next.

Take Eduardo from Chile who hit me up on Manhunt last spring. Short like me, hairy but slim, at 42 he looked at least 15 years younger. I drove to his trailer park about ten miles from me going Miami way and we fell in love instantly, l guess, me the hairy daddy, he my hairy boy. That was the first and only time we connected because l was going up to PA to spend the summer with my boring other half George, but throughout the next three months we sexted one another almost every day, dirty pics included. as we gushed on how much we dug one another and how much he anticipated our connecting again when l got back right after Labor Day.

Then out of the blue, a week before l was to head back, Eduardo announced that he had met a guy who was “The One” and hoped l would understand.  Shell shocked by his fickled behavior, l wished him well and he replied what a nice guy l was for being so understanding. What the fuck else was l supposed to say? His English was poor and l was too old to start learning Spanish.

Then there was 48 year old Tito, a Venezuelan whose family owned a cattle ranch and who worked for one of the cruise lines out of Lauderdale. Again hairy, again athletically slim and a bit taller than me, he dug furry guys and looked at me like a piece of Godiva chocolate. Though both tops, we got into oral sex like that’s all we needed and he kept insisting all the way to the door as l left that we needed to connect again, that he really liked me and hoped that maybe there could be something more between us. He pushed meeting again the following weekend but when l reached out to him that Friday, he kept saying he was out shopping and would hit me up when he got home. He never did and after three attempts to pin him down, l gave up.

Finally, there was Drew, whose family came from Spain, the Real Deal, and who lived up in rural central Florida. 5’7, slight, only slightly hairy with a heavy beard and the Yul Brynner look. Drew had looked at my profile on Daddyhunt dozens of times over the years so l decided to reach out to him. We chatted and sexted and sent pics back and forth as he went on how hot l was and how much he had wanted to meet me. But as we got deeper into conversation l sensed he almost never came to Lauderdale which he described as a “sex sewer” and was tremendously busy with his trade – buying fixer-uppers, rehabbing them and then flipping them for a solid profit.  So, thought l, if l went up his way, four hours from Lauderdale, and we hit it off he would probably be on his smartphone troubleshooting half the time. When l confronted him that l had once been on the work merry-go-round and realized only when l got off that there was more to life than just making money, his passionate demeanor went stone cold. “Making money is my life.”

End of that romance.

Motto of my story: enjoy your Latin lover for the time you’re together, but definitely hold off buying those matching diamond studded cock rings.



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