August in Barcelona

This is my contribution to the Summer Lovin' Contest 2019. I would truly appreciate your rating and comment. If you rate it poorly, please elaborate in a comment! I love and respect all feedback.

This story is loosely inspired from a trip to Barcelona some years ago. Do understand, the vast majority of this is pure fantasy.

Note: there are elements of age-play(18 ), roughness, objectification, and profanity.

Thanks for reading!

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She was shy and I was smitten. I would catch her glances, followed quickly by downcast eyes and a slow smile. She excited me. Our awareness of each other was a palpable thing. Her mother could sense this growing intensity but delivered her tour smoothly, a practiced speech done with regularity but never in the presence of visiting daughters.

I sat on my rented bed and listened to the final offerings of the host that I'd be sharing this apartment with for two nights. Having found no reason to linger, her young daughters slowly melted away into their own quarters. The elder awarded me one final glance over her shoulder before disappearing behind a door frame. Was that a smile?

With some effort, I wrested my thoughts and turned my head toward the host. Either she didn't notice or didn't care. She was nearly finished with her presentation. I tried to maintain the same mute stare, listening dumbly to the rest before nodding as she finished.

"Any questions?" she concluded, perhaps a little too formally.

Having none I smiled and shook my head, thanked her profusely for her hospitality and took off my shoes to rest. I slid my doors closed and laid back on the narrow bed, leaving everything on but my shoes. I stared up at the ceiling. Sweat dotted my brow. It was fucking hot in Barcelona, early August. I closed my eyes but when I did all I could see was the Spanish goddess, stealing shy looks my way as she followed us through the apartment. The other slightly junior daughter had seemed mildly rancorous, probably annoyed with a strange man intruding on her summer vacation. Twice, she had shot me a look flirting between anger and curiosity, aggressively tossing her mane as if in accordance with her angst.

Rolling onto my side my eyes flitted over the door. With mild alarm I realized it was cracked, before remembering that it was a double sliding door that closed as they met in the center. Either by fault of my own or an aging door frame, the crack between the doors was wide. While I lay there summoning the will to stand up and close the doors flush, a figure glided by in the living room. It was the older daughter. She was in her underwear, towel in hand, seemingly headed towards the bathroom. She paused in the living room to look in the big mirror. She was perfectly centered in the modest field of view the crack afforded. She stopped, gazing at her reflection.

Time stood still. She was browned and flawless, of modest hips with a perfectly pert butt. Large breasts strained a thin tank top. Her nipples stood in stark relief and I realized her breasts were quite visible and perhaps the most lust inducing pair I had ever seen. Faculties heightened, breath frozen in my chest, eyes unblinking. Was she looking at me in the reflection??

At last she moved on with a sudden and flippant stalk toward the bathroom. My heart was beating hard. Blood burning, my cock fought against fabric. I got up carefully and closed the double doors. I felt the sudden and ferocious urge to masturbate. I refrained, not knowing how sound carried in this apartment quite yet, as well reluctant to ejaculate into my hosts beautiful towels. Sleep found me and I enjoyed it for a restful ninety minutes before I awoke. My penis was rock hard. I had to pause and lay in bed until it calmed down before I could get up and shower.

Eventually the spell was broken and I walked swiftly to the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when I found it unoccupied. My mind blanked as I took a leisurely shower, again fighting the urge to masturbate. I toweled off and tied it around my waist. I had always been fit, but the weeks of traveling and exploring had me quite leaned and tanned. I found myself in the foggy reflection of the bathroom mirror, absently noting the state of my torso. Browned, even burnt, the muscles leaping in stark relief as I moved.

I exited the bathroom and found all three of them sitting at the table in the living room. Together they appraised me fully and then quickly looked at each other, suppressing smiles. Feeling bashful, l retreated behind my double doors as fast as I could with any semblance of dignity.

I stared at those doors wondering what they were saying on the other side. It felt complimentary, whatever it was. This provoked my conflicted mind with fantasies that I dared not entertain, squashing them quickly and getting dressed lest I let my mind conjure too great a daydream to ignore. I briefly considered inviting them to dine with me, no doubt Side Escort they'd have a good suggestion. But it was late, and I realized they were already sitting down for dinner. I left rushed and awkwardly, saying that I'd see them later and then realizing they would probably be asleep.

I wandered the streets, fascinated by what I saw. Beautiful young people, full of life, all over this city. People eating dinner out on the streets late into the night. The air was vibrant and rippling with energy, the summer night brilliantly balmy on my exposed skin. The streets were clean, no offending odors or hellish sights. In fact, on a casual stroll, the street art I was fortunate enough to walk by was positively inspiring, clearly revealing a city full of impressive artists. I found myself there in peak tourist season, gawking visitors and expats adorning every main street, plaza, and business. Getting lost in Barcelona may be a mandatory experience, I concluded.

I had an amazing dinner picking a place at random. Fideua. Simple and light, supremely fresh and made with local organic ingredients. Guitarists strolled in halfway through the meal and performed some of the most incredible rifts I'd ever been privy to witness live. Romantic yet energetic, slow, then fast, sending the heart soaring. There is no better sensation than being alone in a strange and wonderful city!

Having a few drinks with my meal I plodded on in search of a proper bar. It took me longer than expected. It was near midnight and many of the places I approached were dinner oriented and closing at this hour.

Finally, I came upon a group of evening clad people smoking on the street in front of an old stone building. I couldn't hear anything and the outside lights were subtle. I approached, noticing that more than one of the members of the group was female and far from unattractive. There was no sign. This was the place.

I walked in, having to expose my ID a few feet later to a gigantic Aryan looking fellow that oozed physical competence and menace from every pore. My anticipation grew as I traversed a long stone hallway, twisting erratically and seemingly trending subterranean. I was unsure of what to expect as I passed not a single soul in the hall. Where the hell am I going? Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut" popped into my head of a sudden and my mouth twisted into a nervous grin.

Wall sconces held gas-lit torches every dozen or so feet, creating an intimate, timeless ambience. A dance beat drifted to me, volume increasing steadily. Bass heavy. At last I emerged into a hauntingly lit, large oval room with a rounded stony ceiling. The acoustics were such that walking into the main chamber was a sensorial shock, the energy smiting my eyes and ears as I breached the threshold.

The bar itself was small and situated in the back, just off center. Wall sconces with large lit candles and a subtle reflective jade on the ceiling illuminated a den of youth and sex. Young revelers huddled and laughed, strolled confidently through the arena. A nondescript DJ booth housed a tall, skinny figure dressed head to toe in black and wearing a grimacing mask. Marveling at it all I drifted towards the bar, casually dodging oblivious drunks.

"Laphroaig. Neat."

I was lucky to find a stool in the bustling fray. I sipped my scotch and people-watched, enjoying the scene immensely despite being alone. Many of the girls had boyfriends clearly attached to them and other men seemed to respect these relationships. Groups of women, or god forbid single, were focused on with laser intensity by the disproportionate number of males I was just now noticing.

My eyes wandered over the crowd, losing interest as I drained the rest of my glass. When my head settled back down, I was looking straight into the eyes of one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. Across the room with a group. She was Swedish perhaps, impossibly blonde with glacial pools for eyes. Eyes that drank my soul, blasting any defenses I might normally have.

My poker face crumbled and I gaped with genuine amazement before I regained my senses and snapped my head away. I buried my eyes in the new glass as well as I could. Before long, I could not resist a look in her direction. She was still staring at me, this time the glimmer of a smile caught her features. The pull I felt from her was no match for my frozen courage. I sat at that bar, cursing myself as I watched her drift off into the crowded din. I finished the scotch and had another, as penance, or something.

My meal earlier was excellent but I did not over eat, that is to say I had a light meal and one too many scotches. Pushing off of my perch I floated through the room, suddenly realizing my desperate need to relieve myself. I found the bathroom on my way out, meandering down the hallway before encountering a small line outside the single unisex bathroom. I approached, lost in thought, the room tilting just slightly. Side Escort Bayan I settled into line and casually glanced at my companions. The first two people seemed to be together, a male couple chatting excitedly about something, probably the cocaine they were about to do. The only other occupant of the line was THE GIRL! The Scandinavian princess.

She didn't notice me at first but seemed to sense my stare, turning back to meet my eyes. She smiled unapologetically and straightened up, running her hand through her natural golden mane, straight but for the faintest wave in each strand lending a voluminously angelic halo to her awesome beauty. Her eyes flicked back to me, and again. The tension escalated when the former bathroom occupant vacated and the two men entered together, leaving us alone in line. My heart hammered in my chest, I wanted to say something. Normally I felt quite comfortable with the opposite sex, confident even. The sheer beauty of the person standing beside me was painfully intimidating.

My voice never found itself. The gays were giggling now, audibly snorting something. As one of them fumbled with the lock of the bathroom door, the mystery beauty turned and stepped up to me impetuously, face inches from my own. Her eyes arrested mine and I felt the powerful allure of it all. A playful, daring expression lit her features. And I kissed her. Deep and searching, it was an honest kiss. We both trembled with the power of it. The door opened and the spell was broken. She backed away casually and strolled into the bathroom, giving me a playful smirk as she slowly closed the door. Am I supposed to follow her??

New people ambled into the line and my indecisiveness lost to discretion. I stood stock still replaying the last few minutes, wondering if it was real or was I just that fucking drunk. Senses dulled by liquor but aflame at once. I felt alive. The bathroom door moved and there she stood, displaying it open, smiling. It had indeed happened after all. My need to pee was great. I walked slowly into the bathroom as she held the door for me. Her eyes danced over mine and my answering smile was most genuine. The door closed behind me as I shook my head ruefully, fully intending to find her and talk to her as long as she'd let me after I finished my business. I never saw her again.

Deeply depressed with an underlying mirth, as only a drunk can relate, I found my way back to the apartment. It was very late, hours after the bathroom ordeal. I had looked for her. The search growing faster and more desperate as I realized she had left and never again would I be gifted with her company in this lifetime. The drunk in me found this truly depressing and I vowed never to kiss beautiful girls and let them disappear.

Doing my best to stay quiet on the old stairs I made my way to the door of the apartment, painfully turning the key in an attempt to be as light fingered as possible. I crept into the space, keeping the lights off and depositing my shoes by the door. As I tiptoed by the kitchen, I saw the light before I saw her. The elder daughter sat on a stool in comfortable lounge wear.

She was watching something on her laptop with a near empty glass of white wine close by. She turned to greet me with a smile, having heard my stealthy efforts at the door. I felt an aura of comfort emanating from her. She wanted to talk with me, I felt. She had drunk the wine and stayed up hoping to see me. I chided myself on these thoughts and asked her why she was up so late.

"It's too hot to sleep." she replied in broken English.

She spoke well enough, understood even, but her accent was thick with lack of practice. I sat with her and we chatted in hushed voices. She was happy to talk with me she explained, because she needed to work on her English. She was doing web design courses for her online college while visiting her Mother for the summer. She and her sister did not get along, they hardly talked apparently. She was twenty, her sister eighteen. I asked her if it was weird for her to share her living quarters with a stranger.

"You're a good guy, so it's okay." she offered with a sincere and adorable smile.

I wondered how and why she would make that assumption, knowing humbly that it was true. I was raised well, respecting women as equals. This did not mean my current thoughts reflected any manner of saintliness!

At this point in the night and on my sex deprived weeks of travel, my mind raced quickly to anything and everything lust. I looked at this incredible angel, with her flawless complexion and long lashes, vibrating health and sex. I looked at her and wanted her, as badly as I have ever wanted anything in my life. The conversation had paused and she looked at me curiously, an amused expression playing over her features. She knew. She may be young, but a girl like her learned of men and their nature the moment she hit puberty.

The rational man in me wrestled Escort Side with the idea that she was just being a polite host, that these playful looks meant only comfort, that they were not at all sexual in nature. My cock disagrees. In my twenty-seven years of life I had finally learned to trust my cock. This notion seemed preposterous to even me, once upon a time. As my years of being sexually active progressed, I finally caught on. I noticed that whenever there was a mutual chemistry, not solely my attraction, but hers as well, my cock would engorge to a semi erect state as the conversation or interaction progressed. My cock was now seriously engaged and I could not ignore this.

Our eyes met and I thought that she looked so beautiful, so innocent. With aid from the alcohol, the lusty man in me reached out and took her behind the neck ever so gently. I pulled her in and kissed her lightly, separating immediately and scanning her face, searching. Her face was passive but fire lit her eyes. She was still there and that was all I needed to know. I adjusted my seat closer to her and the chair scraped loudly, briefly bringing us back to reality.

I paused and listened for any sounds suggesting a mother's sleep disturbed. Not hearing anything I turned back to her. She was smiling now, openly amused with my antics. Her body language suggested that she did not care at all whether or not we were discovered. I reached out with both hands, cupping her face, not breaking eye contact. I leaned in to kiss her, finally closing my eyes.

We kissed deeply, slowly at first until both of our passions had ignited and the contact grew more desperate, hungrier. Her breath was sweet with wine, her lips soft and yielding. I turned my attentions to her neck, trailing wet kisses lightly down to her collarbone and across. My fingers carefully undid the first two buttons on her over sized shirt, pausing, remembering her standing in the living room earlier. I remembered her beautiful breasts and how badly I wanted to have them in my hands. The anticipation had me shaking, the excitement had me throbbing. I pressed my lips hard against hers as I undid the remainder of her shirt. My hands found her breasts before my eyes did, cupping and squeezing them gently. They felt so perfect, so erotic. I had to look.

Like a child discovering some new secret of the universe I gazed at her, sitting on the chair, shirt undone, radiating vitality and lust. Her breasts defied physics. They were large and round, swaying only slightly to the sides. Her nipples were swollen and puffy and demanded the mouth's attention. I conceded and placed her left nipple in my mouth sucking gently, letting my teeth graze the areola. While my mouth worked her nipple, licking and sucking, I cupped her breast with both hands. Her breasts were impossibly firm and sculpted. I squeezed harder now, blood on fire. The lightest sheen of sweat graced her bosom on this fiery summer night. Faint tan lines highlighted the flawless complexion of her chest, supple and radiant, pale breasts contrasted by dark nipples.

I kissed her neck as I grabbed under both thighs, carefully lifting her from the chair to the kitchen floor. I paused, looking down at her. Her hair flared out in all directions framing her angelic face. Skin flush, chest heaving ever so gently. I wanted her so badly mere thought wasn't present. There were no conscious observations or monologues running through my head. No discourse nor debate. Just primal desire, emanating in waves.

Even in this lusty state I knew that this was an extraordinary moment, a gift from life that I fully intended to appreciate. I moved slowly, hooking my index fingers in her leggings, dragging them carefully down to her ankles. I left them like that, binding her ankles together, pushing her knees apart so she lay splayed on her back. Her panties were robin's egg blue, the center royal with her wetness. I smiled involuntarily, pleased that she was aroused. Thus far she was mostly complacent as I attended her, leaving me vaguely concerned that perhaps she was not as into this as I was.

Not bothering to slide her underwear off I used two fingers of my left hand to pull them aside. She had light brown pubic hair. It was sparse and sopping with her excitement, lips lightly engorged, silken wings to her secret garden. Her hood was small, but my tongue sought her clit and probed it gently.

For the first time, she made a sound. A low moan escaped her and she pressed her palms flat to the kitchen floor, bracing herself to this new assault on her senses. She had no taste at all, her nectar clean, lightly viscous. My right hand found her breast, kneading it and gently pulling her nipple. I traced her lips with my tongue before focusing again on her clit, lightly flicking it now. Her hips began to respond to my actions, thrusting toward me when the pressure was too light and wriggling back in torturous euphoria when I came on too strong. Removing my hand from her breast I used both hands to rip her underwear off entirely, discarding them to the side. Taking both of my thumbs, I inserted them into her wetness, spreading her gently but firmly. She gasped, her tight young pussy not used to such abuse.