When I was fifteen I was sent to my father who lived in Ecuador.
The plane was diverted to Cali due to weather and we were held overnight.
All the passengers had to do customs and immigration there and we were sent to a hotel nearby the terminal.
I was not flying as a minor, and the man who sat beside me took over and filled out my papers and walked me through, collecting my bag with his and the ride to the hotel.
At the hotel he got us one room, it was so small with one small double bed.
He told me to sleep against the wall, because sometimes he got up to pee at night.
When I say he cuddled me, he grabbed me against him and held me, letting me lay my head on the part of the pillow below his head.
He ran his hands all over my chest and between my legs.
I asked what he was doing and he said he was making sure I wasn't a boy, he didn't sleep with boys, only girls.
I was cuddle up pretty tight, he kept one hand on my boob, massaging and rubbing it, squeezing it and twisting my nipple.
His penis got hard against me and he started humping me.
When he reached down to push my pants down I had to help him, until I had my butt completely available for him, he laid me face down and spread me open with his knees.
His penis went right in.
I was being rubbed against the bunched up sheets below me and I went into an orgasm, that triggered him to orgasm and we lay with him holding me down but off to one side.
He kept rubbing my head and my shoulder telling me that I was no longer a girl, now I was a woman.
The departure time to Bogota to catch the connection to Quito left at 8:30 so we had to get up early.
He ran the water in the shower until it was hot enough and brought me in to wash me.
I had to wash his back for him. He kissed me a lot that morning, like every two or three minutes.
On the bed he told me to lay back he was going to love me one more time.
It was very fast because we had to go down to catch the bus.
I sat on the bus holding his arm, and he walked me through immigration to board the flight, and I sat beside him to Bogota and the connection to Quito.
In Quito I hugged onto him and wouldn't let go.
I didn't want to go to my father or his family, I didn't like them and they didn't like me or my mother.
I begged him to take me with him.
My father got madder and madder, and I cried and screamed as I was carried and put in a car.
That was the last time my father had me go see him. In my heart there is only one man.
The man I became a woman with, the man who loved me that night and showed me that a man can really show me he loved me.
