We've been there before but I maintain that Barcelona is a beautiful city, with a fantastic beach, architecture and girls take your breath away and the food is grand and bountiful. Then there’s the Port Olympic. It’s lovely down there during the day, fish restaurants serving that day’s catch, some nice bars, the beach, the art and shopping.
By night, however, it becomes something completely different. Families go home, little dance bars open up - with hostesses outside trying to drag you in to watch girls dancing on podiums - men attempt to pull you into mini-buses so that you can be taken to strip clubs and blokes trying to hawk you flowers and shit. In other words, it’s gloriously sleazy and for a quick snapshot of time, it’s almost delirious to experience it. I don’t know that I could endure it very often, but for the night we were there I bloody loved it and so did Christina.
We’d already eaten - the octopus was superb - and as we walked back towards the car, Christina was drawing a lot of attention. As well she might. She was wearing a blue dress, showing some cleavage and her make-up was just enough to highlight what was already beautiful about her. Her thick black hair almost glowed in the lights, she was fucking incredible.
A blonde girl caught her, medium height with a slim, toned body, terrific firm tits and a pretty face. She was very tactile, holding Christina’s hand and leading her into the club. I followed her. Inside it was like another world, with pounding music and bored looking girls dancing on podiums and men not knowing where to look next.
The hostess left us (after a comment said into Christina’s ear and, as I write this, I still don’t know what it was), I got a couple of bottles of Bud but Christina decided she wanted to dance. I watched her, nursing my bottle and she seemed to be enjoying herself and the attention she was getting. The place appeared to be full of women in their late teens up to their late thirties/early forties, whilst a lot of the blokes seemed to be dirty old men trying to ensnare them. While some of the girls were undeniably attractive, too many of them were overly made up or dressed in ways that did not accentuate their natural gifts and compared to Christina they fell far short. A couple approached me, asking if I wanted to join them or buy them a drink, but I turned them all down.
Christina came over, her skin glowing. Her legs were already lightly tanned and in the artificial light they looked great. I could see toe cleavage in her heels. She was fucking gorgeous and I wanted her, more than ever.
She shifted her pose, jutting out a hip, accentuating the swell of her tits. “Hey, Pete,” she said, “do you want to buy me a drink?”
“I already did.”
Her eyes sparked and she smiled. “Wow mister, anybody’d think you were trying to pick me up.”
She smiled demurely as she sat next to me, seemingly all innocent. I heard a noise and saw her shoe drop to the floor just before I felt her foot rubbing up the inside of my calf. We chatted for a while, about nothing really, seemingly as if we wanted to create the pretence, for anyone watching, that we’d just met. All the while, I tried to ignore the way she would touch me, perhaps just resting a hand on my arm or pressing her thigh against mine. Just enough contact to tease me, and after a while I was in a right state.
Suddenly she jumped to her feet and grabbed my hand.
“Let’s dance!”
“No way, I don’t dance!”
She looked at me, gazing into my eyes and poking out her lower lip slightly. “Not even for me?” she asked imploringly, “even if I say please?”
Christina started to sway in time with the music, moving her body and running her hands over her belly, hips and - briefly - her tits. How could I resist that? I allowed her to lead me to the dance floor and we started to dance, me like an idiot with no co-ordination, Christina like the music ran through her. As we danced she moved closer and began to rub herself against me. The feel of her was so intense that I couldn’t help but try to pull her close, though every time I did she pulled away, flashing me a wicked grin. Eventually she allowed me to take her in my arms and as she rubbed herself against me to the music, I kissed her, gently at first but then with more and more desire, not caring how much of a spectacle I was making of us.
Christina pulled away, pressing her finger to my lips to stifle my protests and she led me by the hand through the crowd to the back of the club. Literally dragging me, she pulled me into the ladies toilets and, ignoring the protests of those already inside, pushed me into a cubicle, locking the door behind us.
We kissed, hard and I ran my hands over her body, wanting to feel every inch of her. I sucked her tongue and lips, kissed her neck and ear-lobe and ran my hand over her tits. She moaned and I grabbed her arms, holding them above her head so she was mine to do with as I pleased. I kissed her again, hungrily, on the lips, then on the neck, then across her clavicles. She arched her hips and I pressed my cock against her belly. I turned her around so that she was facing the door and leaned against her, kissing her neck. I let go of her arms and cupped her tits, my hard cock nestling between her arse cheeks.
She turned around and, planting her hands on my chest, pushed me backwards. It took me by surprise and I sat down heavily on the toilet. Before I could think about moving, she undid my belt and trousers and pulled them down to my ankles.
Without a pause, she dropped to her knees, wrapped her right hand around my hard cock and started stroking it. With her left hand, she massaged my balls for a few moments, all the while looking up at me through her eyelashes. I leaned forward slightly, to rub her tits through her dress.
Christina took my cock into her warm mouth, stroking my balls. She concentrated her lips and ever moving tongue on my cock head, her spare hand wanking me off. The pleasure was both intense and incredible and the sensations, of hearing the music and the women outside, was pushing me too far. I tapped her shoulder and she looked up at me with big ears, her lips wrapped around my cock. That was almost too much.
“Let me do you,” I said.
She frowned and let my cock go with a loud pop.
“I’m too close,” I said, “I don’t want to cum yet.”
She smiled and stood up. “Ah, I guess it’s my turn then, eh?”
I pushed her against the toilet door, kissing her hard. Then, in a quick movement, I squatted in front of her, her groin level with my mouth.
I began by kissing her calf, moving slowly upwards to the back of her knee. Her skin tasted of body wash with only the slightest hint of sweat, the refreshing, fresh kind that most people get in a nightclub. I licked, nibbled and kissed her. I moved up further, kissing the backs of her thighs, my hands moving ahead and playing over her belly and running between her legs, though never touching her pussy. Within moments, she was groaning and moving her body against mine.
I leaned back and pulled her dress up. She was wearing white knickers and I was staring at the winking eye of her arsehole and, barely visible through her legs, the cameltoe of her pussy.
I slid her knickers down, biting her arse cheeks until she swatted me away, then squatted down a bit further so that I could put my head between her legs. Her pussy was beautiful, covered in a light fuzz and her lips were wet and slightly puffy. I smiled and flicked at them with my tongue. I heard the door bang against the jamb as her body jumped.
“Fucking hell,” she hissed.
I pushed my tongue into her pussy as far as I could and slid my right hand between her legs and up, pressing my thumb against her clit. That made her jump even more and I kept working with my tongue, licking and fucking her. She was getting excited and I could feel her juices on my chin and she braced herself against the door, pushing back on my face as I tongue-fucked her. I went for her clit again, with finger and thumb and she almost collapsed against the door.
I stood up and turned her around, kissing her and pushing my tongue deeply in her mouth and she walked me backwards until I sat down on the toilet. She wasted no time in straddling me and grabbed my cock, rubbing it against her pussy lips as if wanking us both off. Then, slowly, she slid my cock into her, impaling herself until I was completely inside her and she was sitting on my lap. She moved, upwards, until only my cockhead was inside her, before sliding down again. I wanted to kiss her, but she was holding onto my neck and looking down at the show, as if watching it was making her more turned on than ever.
She slow fucked me for a while, eventually looking at me and smiling, in a slightly dazed way, before kissing me. The feeling was incredible. She began to move up and down a little faster as I reached up and cupped her breasts. We kissed, I worked on her neck - making her groan - and cupped her buttocks.
Christina moaned, her movements getting faster and faster until she was slamming herself on my cock, trying to get every last inch inside her. The delicious friction of her tight pussy wrapped around me was taking me to the edge and as her moans grew louder I could feel her muscles tightening, gripping my cock as she rode me. Suddenly she screamed, kissing me ferociously, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. As she came her pussy clenched around me, milking me, and I could no longer hold back. I grabbed her hips and pulled her down hard, burying myself fully, slamming into her again and again. Losing control, I came as well, moaning her name as I felt myself explode.
As her climax finished Christina collapsed against me and I held her in my arms enjoying the feel of her against me. She breathed deeply and contently as we kissed softly.
“Wow,” she said.
“Yeah, that was fucking unbelievable.”
“A great fuck for a sleazy bog,” she said and giggled. As she did so, her pussy muscles squeezed the last of the cum out of my cock.
We sat still, holding one another and kissing, until someone banged on the door and said something in Spanish. Christina smiled and eased herself off me, cupping a hand against her pussy lips as my cum oozed out. She wiped it with some toilet paper.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I said.
“Let’s get out there, dance some more and drink some more and see what comes up, eh?”
“I like your style,” I said, standing up and pulling my boxers up.
