Rústico and Wildo

It was nearly midnight when I arrived at the fields of Matanzas. The mission was simple, to capture those rugged males who carve the earth with their sweat, in search of untamed authenticity for my next erotic exhibition.

The camera and I were looking for that human warmth, the virile essence of the peasants when I saw him, a Cuban macho, half bear and half bull, about 50 years very well placed. A brute with a fat body and muscles forged by the fieldwork, finished his day. I proposed a photo session and, to my surprise, he agreed with a mischievous smile. At night, among the rural sounds of the corral, I found him ready for the session.

He was ready in his dirtiest attire for the occasion, a museum of his habits; gray pants ripped in what seemed to be a deliberate act, revealing that hairy and liberated 'pinga'. An intense pink t-shirt, opened at strategic points to exhibit those shaved nipples and those hairy tits whose stimulation were the prelude of his wildest cumshots. His woolen hat and black sneakers completed the picture of unprecedented eroticism.

Generously he offered his most obscene pose, still exuding the fragrance of the earth's honesty. He sat with his legs spread, displaying his black cock, charged with veins and crowned by a fat and heavy glans, let out pink flashes making a contrast with the t-shirt, as if both agreed to seduce me. The retracted foreskin, revealed more than usual morals would allow, invited to a game of discovery and pleasure instead of just a photo session.

I bit my lip, focused and clicked. For a moment, the camera and I became devotees of that peasant idol.

When the session ended, there was nothing left but to thank the twilight for the curtain it gifted us, and the farmer, lord of my most errant fantasies, for the story that through my lens, his dick told.