Gathering my courage, I repeated myself a little louder. She politely told me I was at the ticket office. The check-in desk was at the other end of th... terminal. Embarrassed, I sought out the check-in desk. There was a line at the desk. I waited my turn, feeling very conspicuous. When I got to the red Formica counter, I handed over my ticket. My one bag was checked. I watched it being tagged for Havana. I was given a boarding pass that was in Spanish and English. Some of the English words were. But then I figured maybe the clerk was in the bathroom or something. But soon I noticed a rather burly looking black male walking in, and walking towards me with a rather unfriendly look in his eyes. He was about six foot two and he was dressed in all black, wearing a black tank top, black do-rag, and baggy pants that I only hoped weren’t falling so low they showed off his ass, and wearing a gold chain around his neck and a few gold rings on his left hand. I turned away. I was taught not to. Nobody had asked me if maybe I had plans for my rare in-season day off. The established players -- the guys with enormous salaries and egos to match -- are treated with kid gloves. Newbies like me are treated with boxing gloves."Ballpark," I told Shiggie. "We go to ballpark." Pidgin English, with lots of gestures. Maybe he knew what I was trying to say, maybe not. But when I gave his non-pitching arm a little tug toward the parking area, he once again came along without a struggle.When we got. That's my tight little boi/pussy. Waiting for Daddies dick to enter it..." Daniel leaned forward and his massive tool pressed against my neither region opening, I gasped in fear as I felt my outer anal sphincter muscle ring begin to part. The tip of His missive dick head entering my UN-lubed bung hole. Panicking I cried out "...WAIT, we need some lubricant..." Daniel smiled at me and withdrew his dick head. I sighed in relaxation only to hear Daniel ask "...where is the lubricant?..." I quickly.