Revolutionary Dreams

I heard his footsteps booming down the hall as he walked to my front door. His smell was intoxicating, like sweat, dirt, and cigars, mixed with something I had never smelt before…lets call it…revolución. As his footsteps came closer & closer, I carefully removed my retainer. Look, dental hygiene is really important to me, and I rearranged my oversize Clueless Tshirt, when the door boomed open.

I trembled in my bed, then slowly began to throb with lust for this mystery man. He wore dirty army fatigues and worn black boots. I could only see the outline of his head—beret tipped to the side, wild hair and natty beard. He closed the door behind him. He came closer and closer to me, and my thighs became wetter and wetter, until I could finally make out his face this close to mine. “Che, is that you?”

It was El Commandante Ernesto Che Guevara. And He began speaking, to me! “My sweet Latina Studies/Political Studies Major. I have searched the whole world over to find you. Our people have been struggling for many years, yet still we are not free. I know the true revolutionary is guided by feelings of great love. Yet, I have left the movement in the solely in hands of men. This was perhaps my biggest mistake as a revolutionario.”

And without another word, I put my fingers to El Commandante’s lips—shhhhh—and I began to mount him, slowly, but not before, I put it all on the table. “Look Ernesto, you need to rubber-up okay? I don’t even play that.”

I rode him with greater and greater speed, and just as I felt El Commandante Jefe Ernesto Che Guevara on the verge of cuming inside me, he looked deep into my soul, and in a trembling voice he whispered, “You will lead the Pussy Revolucion, my Pussy Suprema. P’alante, Siempre, P’alante! Hasta La Vagina Siempre! Que Viva CHOCHA Libre!”

And then he was gone. Gone, gone gone, into the dark night, reeking of our sex and possible love child (and those goddamn cigars), dreaming of the day he’d return to my side, our revolutionary forces united forever in eternal bliss. But I had been magically transformed from the lambada-booty-shaking-teenager self-conscious about her skin color, into a grown ass sexy Latina with a message: Power to the Pussy.

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