Her Sunday

Day One

"Sí, lo quiero", that said, the flat was mine.

The furnished flat was perfect, just off Plaza Traginers in Barcelona's Gothic quarter, a few minutes walking distance from the excitement of La Rambla, yet the area was still quiet. The Gothic Cathedral was quite nearby and I could relish an intriguing view of the Roman walls from the delightful terrace off the master, from which I could also enjoy the cool morning with some tea, and afternoons with a cool drink in hand. It was a bit pricey, but with this location I could walk to the beach as well as the Pompeu Fabra University to keep my expenses down.

Turning back from the view off the terrace, I returned my attention to the owner, a delightful silver haired matron with an intricately carved cane. Her gaze grew into a warm smile as my words sank in; it reminded me of a gaze my grandmother might have had.

"Then, ‘Pasión en la Noche’ is yours."

Looking delighted, she continued, "When I was a young lady I lived right here in this apartment, I found love here... or perhaps it was love that found me.” She paused, perhaps to reflect on that love, “So when years later I found it was available, I had to own it. It had brought passion into my life, and I knew it would bring passion into others. Thus, I have named it, ‘Pasión en la Noche’ to forever remind me of the passion I found here that wonderful night."

She winked mischievously, "I think there is magic here, in this apartment. As I gaze at you, I believe perhaps you will find a passionate lover as well."

I could only smile back; not having the heart to tell her I was here for work and that finding ‘Pasión en la Noche’ was just not on my to-do list.

Although born in Melbourne, Australia, I had been studying in UK, and was here from the School of Archaeology at the University of Oxford . I was completing my doctorate thesis in archaeology, and hoped to review findings of fossil remains found in Denisova Cave to verify the analysis completed by Pompeu Fabra University. The fossil remains have been determined to be of a different evolution and could become a new group of hominids previously unknown in the area.

Yet beyond that, I secretly wanted to examine a possible link of their genetic grouping to a seemingly unrelated find in South America. Although geographically separated, there was a oneness in the cave drawings that I felt was beyond mere coincidence. My passion was already found and it consumed me, thus I had no time for another love… or passion.

Returning to Hotel Ramblas, I packed up my suitcases and checked out. As it always was, the street outside was alive. Clubs, restaurants, street vendors, sidewalk artists and human statues all competed for my attention. So many people, music coming from every direction, the aromas of delicious food, the multitude of languages and accents, and the atmosphere of life was nearly a sensory overload. I would have loved to walk, but with so many bags, I really needed a taxi.

Arriving in front of my new home, it glanced up at my building, the bougainvilleas draped over the window ledge, almost obscured the placard ‘ Pasión en la Noche’. The taxi driver was more than helpful and together we hauled my suitcases up the three flights of stairs to my flat. He politely refused my offer of a tip, saying such a beautiful young lady should never pay for simple courtesy.

Finally in my apartment, my eyes took in my new home. But time was not to be wasted and so I immediately took my suitcases to my bedroom. Within a few minutes I had filled the wardrobe... it did so feel like ‘home’. ‘I so loved Barcelona.’

Satisfied, I headed to the shower, peeling off my pullover, tugging down my jeans as I walked, and leaving a trail of clothing across the master leading into the bath. Glad that my breasts could manage a day without a bra, I slipped out of my panties and jumped into the shower. The water was cool, instantly bringing my nipples to attention, but slowly warmed up as I massaged the soap over my body. The soap had a lotion quality to it and I felt a tingling sensation as I massaged it on my breasts.

My legs and bum felt tired from the day and kneading my bum helped relieve some of the soreness, my neat landing stripe was still trimmed but I grabbed my razor anyway and starting soaping myself thoroughly. The tingling sensation had now spread to my vagina and my lips were pulling back revealing my clitoris was quickly becoming engorged. ‘God, it's been too long.’ I thought as I quickly razored myself. ‘ Still, I do have a nice velvet purse... Too bad I didn't have a nice thick member to fill it... Stop that!’ I forced myself to adjust the water to cold, and quickly rinsed off, grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower.

Although late afternoon, the light from the window still shown on my curves and as I dried off, I reflected on my body in the full-length mirror. My legs were long, rather slender. Men seemed to like them, but I wished I had a bit more muscle. Well, at least they did have good tone and my skin glistened like alabaster. My bum was full, I always thought it too full, but then the Italian men had always tried to pinch me when I had visited Sicily. I did have a nice tummy, I hadn't eaten and it was almost concave. I loved my breasts, I had inherited them from my mother, and although not large they were full and firm with pinkish brown areola. Still soft, my puffy nipples had always seemed to stiffen when I was even slightly aroused. They had caused a few embarrassing moments but I was still more than satisfied with the way I looked.

I pouted my full lips and peered into my deep brown eyes, "I should be able to have any man I desired, but where were they? Ahh… I hadn't the time anyway."

I snuggled into my terry cloth robe, loosely cinching the belt and headed out to the kitchen. Opening a fresh bottle of Barton & Guestier Pinot Noir I had pilfered from the hotel, I savored the aroma as I poured it into a wineglass. Walking out on the terrace with my glass, I settled into a comfortable lounge to enjoy the warmth of the sunset whilst I gazed at my view. I could see the Roman wall, which had protected the city since the fourth century; and across the courtyard I could see customers entering a small pub called La Luna de Júpiter for an evening drink.

As I sipped the deliciously soft texture of the wine I savored the atmosphere and felt the last vestiges of the sunset warming my pussy. ‘My pussy? I never called it that.’ I looked down and realized my robe had fallen open and my velvet purse was now peeking out to enjoy the warmth of the sunlight. Well, I doubted anyone could really see me, much less my little pussy. The wine had relaxed me and the late sun had warmed my lips, thus they opened, letting my clitoris enjoy the warmth as well.

Looking across the courtyard, I searched the neighboring windows and terraces but saw only darkened windows. Well, all but one, it seemed to be a bath and I could see a man within. From my vantage point I could see directly into his shower. He was just stepping into it and I couldn't help but notice his broad shoulders, he looked muscular but was still quite lean. He looked like a gymnast, no, more masculine than that; he made me think of a cat, a powerful jungle cat, strong, silent and dangerous. He had a washcloth and was vigorously scrubbing his back, shoulders and chest.

Feeling a little guilty, I raised my head slightly and could see how taut his bum was as he worked the washcloth over it, massaging it. He turned somewhat and I could suddenly see his manhood; it was large, as if he had just had sex and was still engorged with blood. It was thick, really thick, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would feel in me.

Subconsciously, my hand had moved to my now open thighs, and my fingers were softly massaging my slit as I watched him. I realized how moist I had become. My clitoris was engorged and each tender stroke further excited me. I bit my lip, and then moistened it with my tongue, imagining his cock against my lips, my tongue tasting his pre-cum. With my other hand I found my nipples, and slowly started to pinch, pull and knead them; one, then the other as I imagined his lips softly teasing them as I ground my hands through his light brown hair.

He turned further toward me and I could see his brown chest hair, extending down toward his stomach which although without hair was ripped with firm muscles. He seemed to look directly at me as if he knew I was there, yet I knew I was by then well hidden in the dark. He continued with the soap and the washcloth, and was now washing his cock, that beautiful cock. He stroked it as he was washing it, and I could see it become even thicker, stiffer and harder… I could not tear my eyes away.

I was now sliding my fingers into my slit and my breath was becoming rapid as I watched him, in the shower, slowly stroking his cock. I looked into his eyes, then back, his cock was hypnotizing me and I felt every stroke as he continued slowly stroking his cock. My own rhythm matched his, my fingers sliding into me, with each stroke deeper than the last. I now had several of my fingers sliding inside and as my palm pounded my cervix, I could feel his balls slap against me, each stroke sending me into momentary oblivion.

I could feel my tension building, stronger and stronger as I watched him continue to stroke his delicious cock. I wanted him to pound me quicker, faster, to push me over… the precipice, but he continued as he was, slowly and with seeming total self-control. I had lost control to his strokes and could not move my hand quicker than his; and was ensnared while he continued to slowly stroke his cock. God, I wanted to grab his ass and pull him in me, roll over and straddle him, ride him, massage his chest and bite his nipples, I wanted to do to him as he was doing to me, no more, I wanted to fuck his brains out!

It was too much, my desire to have him had won, I closed my eyes as I saw myself riding upon his shaft, and felt the first wave of orgasm hit me like a drug-induced rush. My stomach muscles spasmed, my pussy clamped tight around my fingers, it didn't stop, and wave after wave pushed through my body. I could feel the heat from his semen filling me, each spasm drove him more into me.

I was like a small raft, caught in a hurricane, seemingly endless waves washed over my body, thru my body, each pushing me to draw him into me, feeling his hot semen spurting into me, our spasms matched by our passion. I don't know how long I continued like that, it seem to go on forever, I had never climaxed like this before, my eyes remained closed as I continued to feel our pulsations course through my body.

The waves eventually lessened and although I was still out of breath, I was relaxed, I felt so warm as my body glistened with the sweat from my passion, our passion. My scent was now musky, like a moist cavern of spices, ‘God, I smelled like sex! Intoxicating, moist, sweet, spicy, hot passionate sex. Sensuously delicious.’

Finally regaining my senses, I opened my eyes. Still there, he was drying off from his shower, as though nothing had happened and I didn't exist. I felt he had seen me, yet I knew he couldn't have. I had seen him staring toward me, had he seen me? Yet, through the dark, how could he? ‘Had he really been looking at me?’

Finishing drying off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and started to walk out of the bath, then at the last moment he turned, looked out the window, and I could swear he looked directly at me, and then he smiled….

and turned out the light.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

His Sunday

Day One

It had been a long flight from Florida to Barcelona, the TSA was doing their best to ensure no one would ever enjoy flying again. I was surprised that they pulled a very elderly couple out of the line for further examination, but knew better than complain. Modern society is teaching us not to get involved with the plight of others. Fortunately, I got through without incident and although boring, the flight was at least not invasive.

The taxi dropped me off at my apartment, it is in the Gothic quarter, and its location allows me to enjoy the many pleasures of the city.

Once settled in I headed next door to La Luna de Júpiter for a mid day refreshment. Ordering a cold Moritz, I savored the pale blond lager with its slightly sweet malt and delicate citrus hint. As I tilted my head back for a second taste, I noted a very feminine form on a terraced apartment across the way. Although several stories up, I could see her raven hair lifting in the afternoon breeze. It framed a strikingly beautiful face and even from the bar I could see her full lips part as she drew in the cool air of the city. She was only there for a few moments, but I was already smitten. I would have to find out more about her.

Finishing the beer, I walked the few blocks to Magnolia Restaurant for an early dinner. I almost ordered the duck cannelloni with apricot but afraid of all the sweetness, so I decided to go with the cold cream of tomato, basil and mascarpone cheese appetizer followed with tuna served with mango, lime and cilantro for the main course and a delicious bottle of Araldica Gavi.

Two hours later I had finished my delicious meal and enjoyed a short but leisurely walk back to my apartment. I quickly finished unpacking and feeling at home again, poured two fingers of Glenfiddich on the rocks and walked out onto my terrace. The late afternoon sun was low I looked down on the square and sipped the scotch, enjoying the smooth texture with just a hint of pear fruit and pine.

Across the way, I noticed the same terrace I had seen my raven-haired beauty earlier. It was empty but I noticed several suitcases opened on the bed, a moment later I was rewarded when she walked into the room. She removed several items from the suitcases and put them away. "Ah ha… she is just arrived, I do have time to find who this delicious lady is..."

I found an unusual pleasure in watching her, not as a voyeur but just watching her move. She had a grace and yet her movements showed a sense of purpose. She continued putting things away, never hesitating or changing her mind. She did seem thoroughly concentrated on her actions and I wondered what that single-mindedness would be like in bed.

She soon had the suitcases emptied and thereupon placed a chair next to the closet, then, taking her suitcases and combining them into just two large suitcases she hoisted each up on top of the closet. I couldn’t help but notice her deliciously curvy butt as she climbed up and down. The tight jeans seemed to fit her body perfectly. As she jumped down from the chair her full breasts bounced in a manner that no bra could provide, as she was obviously without one. She became more and more desirable each moment I gazed at her.

Taking the last sip of my scotch, I savored the warm burning flavor and turned inside for a refill. Three ice cubes; two fingers and I couldn’t wait to return to my terrace. Perhaps she will come out on her own terrace and notice me staring her way. It would be impossible to have a conversation over the distance, but she would surely realize I wanted to meet her and I might be able to arrange something.

Walking out onto the terrace, I glanced over to her apartment and was surprised to see she was pulling her top off as she walked toward the bath. She had a beautiful slender back and even from the distance I could confirm she was definitely not wearing a bra. She peeled off her blue jeans as she continued walking, never stopping, just lowering them with each step, until she stepped out of them and just as she walked into the bath slipped off her panties in the same fashion. I couldn't help but notice the trail of clothing leading to her bath, and in my imagination I could smell the fragrance of her in her clothes, imagine following her path of clothes, picking each item up and savoring her scent, leading me to her.

I realized my terrace has an unrestricted view of her bath, and that she was already at the shower. The late afternoon sun still lingered and was perfectly located to light up her bath. She turned on the water immediately stepped in. I knew the water must still be cold, and watched as she shielded her breasts from the cold water. I imagined her nipples becoming hard with the coldness and wished I could warm them with my breath, lips and tongue. Her breasts were indeed full, and unbelievable firm... she did have the body of a goddess.

She already had the bar of soap in one hand and was massaging her body with it, she didn't wash but seems to be massaging the soap into her skin. As she gave her breasts perhaps too much attention, I wished I could be the one giving her such attention. I realized my cock was already strained at my zipper. She continued washing her tummy and then spent several minutes massaging her butt, kneading her muscles. Just watching her was incredibly stimulating; I could barely refrain from taking my own situation into hand.

She then washed her rosebud, I could see it was neatly trimmed even from my patio; the thin patch of hair just above it perfectly accented my raven-haired beauty. She continued massaging her bud with the bar of soap, and even from the distance I realized she had already become aroused; I could see her head lower in concentration, then toss it back in a moment of indulgent self-arousal. She did not continue to find release and instead took the razor; in a few quick passes seemed to ensure that all was tidy. My cock had becoming increasingly uncomfortable, the pressure of it against my pants was unbearable and I wished to release it, but I surely could not do that here and nor could I leave her unattended. These moments were becoming a torture for me, yet it was a torture I could not stop.

After rinsing off, she stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel to her face. She dried off quickly, seemingly taking no pleasure in having completed her shower; I suspected she was still left with some frustration from being aroused without climax. But once dry she dropped the towel, and took a pose. Momentarily I wondered whom she might be posing for, then realize she was in front of a mirror. She turned and looked back at her perfect butt, with moon cheeks and delicate crevices.

Then facing the mirror she seemed to gaze at her body, running her hands over her curves as she did. She again paused at her breasts, giving them a slight jiggle. I could imagine running my hands over her body, exploring her valleys and tasting her crevices. She leaned into the mirror and I could see her pucker her lips into a pout. She is saying something, but I really couldn't hear.

Yet, without hesitation, I softly responded, "Yes, Baby, I am here for you, now and forever." I was left to ponder why I included “forever” in my response...

She then took a bathrobe, wrapped it around her and started to walk out of the bath. My cock was threatening to explode if I didn't do something.

The sun had set by then and I turned to walk in, the tension was too much and I needed to release it. Into into the master bedroom, it is nearly dark and I quickly stripped down. I still pictured her body in the shower as I headed to the bath. I turned on the light and immediately walked into the shower. Turning the water on, the cold water insured my libido is instantly diminished. Taking the soap and washcloth I start washed my shoulders and chest. It was several more moments for the water to warm, up but then my thoughts returned back to my raven-haired beauty.

Looking over my shoulder out my bath window, but seeing no light there, I felt she must have already gone to sleep. As I continued gazing at her apartment, I thought of her body and I found myself massaging my own butt, just as she had massaged hers. Would she like my butt, would she want to grab it? I found my cock was indeed still engorged from watching her shower; the temporary cold water had not diminished its desire for her. Nor had my desire diminished either.

I turned toward the window and my mind relived the moments of seeing her... touch herself, seeing her massage herself, and my cock remembered as well. I wanted her, yet my cock wanted her still more. I slowly started to stroke my cock, rinsing it with the hot water, then with a bar of soap. I continued staring toward her empty apartment yet my mind still imagined her there... waiting for me.

I forced my imagination to bring her here, with me, as if my wanton desire alone could bring her into my presence.

- - -

My voice throaty with desire, I growl, “I need you”.

Your eyes respond with lust, the same lust I feel for you. I gaze longingly at your breasts, full and taut, nipples hard and sensitized, I want to tease them, lick them and suckle them, I continue to stroke my cock. I stroke it slowly, you are too delicious to simply wolf down like a snack, you are a feast, and to savor a feast takes time. Each moment must count for something, so each stroke must count for something as well.

As I continue to stare across the divide, I somehow believe you are watching me, and that even now you are here stroking my cock. So slowly I stroke, I picture you nibbling on your lip, then licking it. But my cock wants to feel your lips as well. I need you to want me, to want me inside you, filling you, taking you to a precipice of orgasm, pausing, then taking you to higher precipice of desire, denying your climax while increasing your pleasure, your stimulation. Oh, the images in my mind... the lust, desire, the total abandonment of all, for the sake of heightening pleasure.

Slowly I stroke, with each stroke of my cock, it thrust deeply into your pussy, my balls softly slapping against your pussy. Slowly, so slowly, each stroke must be savored. Slow inward stroke, feeling your pussy lips spread apart by my cock, your moist tunnel shaping itself to my cock, each vein of my engorged member is a sensation inside you as my cock slowly slides in. Slow outward stroke, feeling your pussy tunnel close into itself, trying to fill the vacuum of my cock, your lips slipping over my head as I almost remove my cock, almost... but just as it would be out, reversing and slowly driving it inward again, filling your vacuum, spreading your pussy still tighter, my cock pulsing with pleasure of your heat, your tightness and your wetness.

I imagine your passionate eyes, looking deep into my own hazel eyes, you are longing for more, you want it faster, deeper. You are grabbing my ass cheeks and pulling me into you, deeper and deeper. But it is not enough, you want it still faster, you coax me into rolling over... you are now mounting me, riding me, you now control the rhythm, the speed of the strokes, and you impale yourself hard upon my shaft, then again, harder this time, you continue, each time harder and more driven than the last. You are massaging my chest, kissing and biting my nipples as you furiously drive your pussy down on my cock. Your close your eyes and become enraptured with the moment, the sensations, and the coming pulsations.

I feel my own moment coming; like a searing hot liquid coursing through my groin into my balls. It is being driven along my shaft, accelerating in anticipation of your sweet moist tunnel, as hot as a smooth liquor warms my throat, and it's heat will fill you, bring more heat to you, more passion. I erupt into you, my body racking with convulsions to push my seed into you. I feel each convulsion matched by yours; you are drawing my seed with a force equal to my own. I continue to convulse, each stroke releasing more seed into your moist, hot tunnel, each contraction pushing more into you.

- - -

My eyes open.

It is over now, I am satiated, satisfied, drained. I only wish you had been with me, somehow a part of it. Shutting off the shower, I dry off. Perhaps you were there, you might have been watching, in the dark, maybe we just shared a moment, a passion united.

No... life surely does not work that way.

Yet still, as I turn, I again look over to your apartment, I smile...

and turn out the light.

to be continued...

Author’s note: My stories are sometimes loving passion, and sometimes passionate loving; but perhaps this is the nature of love... and passion.