At approximately two in the afternoon the Barefoot Beach taxi pulled up to my mini-hacienda and—
“s**t,” escaped my lips as I stared at sss Don’s bumblebee yellow Hummer parked in my seashell-covered drive. The semi-naked zoologist was sprawled over the vehicle’s hood, sunbathing. Donlito wore Oakley sunglasses, no shirt, a skimpy pair of running shorts, and no shoes or socks. His bare body baked in the sun’s golden rays. The blinding light glazed his Latino pecs and their firm n*****s. Because the Rufskin was snug against his middle, the man’s private parts looked extra-large. His pumped biceps glistened with light perspiration and his sculpted thighs reflected the day’s bright light. When the taxi pulled into the drive, he sat up on his Hummer’s hood, lifted the sunglasses from the brid
