The first of October had been the longest day of Sara’s life. She’d awoken early, bathed, dressed, and gone out to cast her first vote. Her parents had told her,
“We know this is important to you. But stay out of trouble. Please, for us.”
It was the day that the provincial government of Catalonia held an unauthorized referendum on independence from Spain, and she’d been in the thick of the action.
They’d peppered her with messages all day as the news showed images of the escalating violence the police were visiting on the voters. Her mum and dad had watched anxiously the footage of police breaking into the schools where ballot boxes had been held. They’d seen the tough, burly firefighters forming rings around the polling stations. They’d smelt the tear gas that hung in the air through the open window.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, mum.”
“Just let us know you’re alright, Sara?”
“Please don’t go near Plaza Catalonia…”
“It’s okay, Dad. It’s not as bad as it looks on the news here.”
The referendum had been smashed by riot police. A great deal of blood had been shed across the country. There had been a counter-march at the end, not for freedom but against police violence. And now, everyone was slinking home, utterly spent.
Sara sat with two friends and had a beer. It was nine-thirty at night. At the table next to theirs, she heard a man speaking loudly. “So, they put me in the police van, drove me one kilometer down the road, around the corner where the crowd couldn’t see, threw me out of the van, and told me to fuck off home!”
His friend laughed. The friend was quite short and spoke much more quietly. It was clear who was the alpha. Sara was listening to the man now. He was wearing a t-shirt that showed off his well-set chest and biceps. He was a bit older, twenty-five, maybe. His voice commanded that table at which he sat.
She got up and went to the bathroom. She had to pee, but it was also an excuse to fix her hair, which was dyed orange and parted. As she stood, he looked up at her. Their eyes met. She flashed a smile at him. He smiled back. The gaze lingered.
She made an attempt to do her face just a little, although there was, regrettably, a red spot above her left eyebrow. Pfff. Spots were meant to be the curse of the teenager, but she was twenty now. Oh well. Sara emerged ready and groomed. If she could catch his eye, she’d see how it went.
The man held court some more. The first of Sara’s friends went home.
“Hey, can I borrow a light?”
The man was speaking to her.
“Sure.”
“Did you have any trouble today?” he asked.
“Not much. My eyes hurt from the tear gas, but it’s ok now…”
His name was Didac. He was shaven-headed and had a tattoo on his left forearm. He had blue eyes, beautiful blue eyes, in fact. He told her he owned a bar on the Rambla but lived in a flat just above where they were sitting. Seeing Didac’s attention elsewhere, his beta friend went home. Not long after, Sara’s last friend left too.
She moved to his table. They swapped stories, and then the volume lowered. Didac began to edge imperceptibly closer, and Sara responded. She ran her fingers through her hair. Christ, she was hot for him. The energy and emotions of the wild day must have played a part, she thought, but she was dying to be close to this guy.
Didac reached over and touched her arm a little. He told her he lived alone. She nodded. She knew what he meant.
Half an hour later, Didac’s lips were brushing hers. Sara responded eagerly, leaning in and initiating the first proper kiss, pressing her tongue into his mouth. She felt him kiss her back, and he had it down pat. He kissed with just the perfect balance between gentle attraction and urgent passion.
“Are you hungry? I can cook us up something?”
She nodded. She was, in fact, very hungry, now he mentioned it. In both senses of the word.
She pulled out her phone. She was going to message her parents. She’d had a boyfriend from seventeen to nineteen, so they were under no illusions she was still a virgin, and why should they be? But she had never done this before, not with someone she’d just met. It was going to be her first one-night stand. Texting her parents was a little embarrassing, but now she thought about it. She was basically telling them, ‘Hey mum and dad, don’t wait up. I’m out getting laid with a handsome stranger tonight.’
She hesitated. Perhaps she didn’t need to text them? She was a grown woman. She didn’t need to justify herself…
No, they’d worry. Out of respect, she should let them know where she was.
Oh well, whatever. She was twenty. It could be her Independence Day.
She told them she was going to stay with a friend. This was not credible in a town as small as this. The home was just a ten-minute walk away.
There was no reply for quite some time. Then a message came. “Promise us you aren’t in jail?!”
“No, I’m not. I promise.”
Another long silence. “Ok, love. See you when we see you.”
They definitely knew.
They went up to the flat. They took their shoes off. Didac made omelets, and Sara looked around the place. It was a studio, a single big white room. There was a table to sit at, and a large double bed, made up with a comfy-looking duvet. There were books on the floor, which felt a little incongruous. Didac hadn’t struck her as the reading type.
They ate and laughed together, sitting across the table. They laughed, but occasionally silence fell, and then the physical tension lay heavy in the air. At last, he leaned over, and they kissed properly again. Sara felt warm inside as she kissed Didac. They both kissed well, melding their tongues together.
“That tongue stud is hot!” Didac said. She knew he was wondering how it would feel on his penis. Play his cards right, and he would soon find out, she thought. “Sara, it’s been a long day. I want to freshen up. Join me?”
She needed no second invitation. They stood and kissed some more, and now one of her hands roamed across his firm, tight bottom, and she put the other under his shirt, and the intensity of the kissing increased. Ah, it felt good to feel human flesh again, good to touch a man’s body. It had been six months.
Didac pulled his t-shirt off. Good torso and muscles. She ran the palm of her hand down his chest from neck to navel. Sara felt him reach for her shirt. He unbuttoned it from the bottom, baring her tummy. She looked down as he rubbed his hand around her navel, briefly pinching her belly button ring between his thumb and finger. Sara took over, unbuttoning further until the shirt could be slipped off. She saw Didac admire her breasts and belly. Her confidence surged.
She unhooked her bra, discarding it on the floor. Didac crouched a little and began to kiss her breasts, just little pecks, and with one hand, he fondled her left breast and nibbled her nipple with his teeth. Sara was getting very turned on now. She wanted him naked. She wanted to be naked, but she let him make love to her breasts for a few minutes.
But as he did so, fear invaded her. Who was this man? She was trapped in his apartment! He could be a killer, a psychopath, or an abuser. They all started like this. Charmingly seductive, love bombing, and then…
She knew nothing about him, yet she had willingly removed all protection, even her clothes. Was she out of her mind? Sara saw the locked door behind Didac, and her heart rate increased. She was briefly afraid a panic attack might overwhelm her. Just then, he stood. He kissed her mouth again. He put his arms onto her shoulders, clasping his hands gently behind her neck, and this comforted her.
No, she couldn’t live in fear. She couldn’t panic and run every time she went to a man’s apartment. Sara steeled herself and threw herself back into the kiss.
“Shower?” he said.
“Yes.”
At the entrance to the shower, Sara pulled down her tracksuit trousers. Then her knickers, then she stepped into the shower and turned on the water. Didac was just behind her. She watched as he dropped his jeans, hoping he was…
Didac lacked for nothing. She saw he had a good-sized penis, based on her admittedly limited experience with them. It was only actually the third she’d seen, two years of her short adult life having been spent in a relationship. Compared to Marc’s, Didac’s was bigger, no question. And now he was next to her, and the water was running hot across their bodies, and they kissed passionately. Didac grew hard as she took it in her hand, jerking it softly, and they kissed more, and the penis swelled ever harder. They washed off the grime of the day, and they felt young and free and alive, and then, suddenly, in a great upsurge from somewhere within her, Sara felt her desire and her hormones go off, and she cried, “Let’s go! Now!”
She turned and braced herself against the tiles of the bathroom. She felt Didac’s cock press against the entrance to her vagina, nosing its way in, and then it was there. She felt his penis thrust through her labia, massaging her clitoris. Oh fuck, it was happening. The warm water made her feel like they were some pair of wild Amazon natives at the waterfall, and she felt it soak her hair, and still, his penis built her pleasure. Her orgasm was coming now. She felt the pressure build-up.
“Faster, man,” Sara said. In the original, 'Mas rapido, hombre!' is more natural than it sounds in English.
Didac sped up, not thrusting but pumping, and his penis awakened everything Sara had repressed during her long sexual drought. She was gasping now, feeling him grasp her hips and buttocks, feeling orgasm approach. Her body was rejoicing inside at being granted its deepest need and desire, and then with a one, two, three, it began. Her orgasm surged throughout her, and as it built, she began to cry out aloud,
“Oh, Dios! Oh, Dios!” and still he thrust inside her. Still, the penis stimulated her, and to her horror, she saw that she had squirted, but she was too lost in the moment to care, and the orgasm went on for ten… eleven seconds.
“Ah, si! Si! Si!”
Didac was deeply turned on by her cries of pleasure. He was loving the fuel of her emotional reaction to his body, and now he was moaning. He was getting close himself, and he increased his stroke. Sara’s squeals and the thrum of the water and his gasps and the slap sound of his body bumping into her ass made a cacophony in that shower, but at last, Didac crossed the threshold. He couldn’t hold it anymore, and he drilled Sara hard from behind until…
Sara heard him roar and felt his cock shudder inside her, felt the liquid seep into her and mix with her juices. It was over. They both breathed deeply, then they stood and turned off the tap.
Dry, they went to bed in towels. It was midnight. Between the long, tiring day, the food, and the sex, Sara felt a great wave of fatigue sweep over her as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her eyelids were drooping uncontrollably.
“Do you mind if I nap?”
“No problem. I’m beat too.”
*
It was five when she awoke. She lay wide awake, thinking over the events of the previous day. Feeling awkward about being naked in a strange bed with a stranger. She wished he’d wake.
He did, at about six. Groggily, he slurred, “Morning.”
“Morning.”
She watched him stumble to the bathroom. Then she went too. The light was now breaking through the window.
“Didac, is it cool if I use your toothbrush?”
“Sure.”
They lay side by side in silence for a while, then Sara reached over and took his hand. Didac rolled onto his side and pulled her over for a kiss.
Didac kissed tenderly, with caresses on her hips and side. She woke rapidly now, the last shreds of fatigue draining away. Oh, this was nice. They were both embracing the new day, waking to its possibilities, refreshed enough. His kisses were not the fierce, passionate kisses of the romance novel. They were slow and gentle and, perhaps, calculated to awaken desire slowly.
