I've always liked sharing this story. Jamaica, 1988, before I was married, went to the Reggae Sunsplash festival with a bunch of engineers from work. They went all over the island during the course of the week having adventures but I stayed on the resort during the day and danced at the festival at night. See, everyone on Jamaica has the job of selling you something. People were trying to sell me weed on the bus going from the airport to the resort. I'm glad I waited until I was chilling on the beach with a Red Stripe when a native MILF in a bikini and a big smile offered to braid my hippie hair. She was selling hair braiding, pot, magic mushrooms, mixtapes, massages and more. She ended up being my muse for the rest of the trip. I remember snorkeling in coral beds tripping my balls off at all the pretty fish colors, getting stoned and listening to the obscure dub mix tapes she sold me, and cumming on her tits after every blowjob. AIDS was big in Jamaica at the time, so she was convinced that not swallowing my cum would keep her safe. I did nothing to disabuse her of that notion, she had nice big tits to cum on.
I left Jamaica with zero dollars, a bag full of mix tapes, and really good memories. I gave her my watch, my boom box, and my sneakers on the way out, to pay for our last session together. And then 2 weeks later Hurricane Gilbert destroyed the place. It bugs me that I can't remember her name now.