A very recent event was held in
Barcelona – a favourite city of mine – and I arrived on a Thursday evening to
meet up with several friends who I have got to know well over the years. The evening was spent in the hotel catching
up on the past twelve months, preparatory to two days of daytime seminars and
night time frolics.
Friday evening and there is a
group of about eight of us “doing the town”. At some point, we enter one of Barcelona’s
many lap-dancing clubs. Now, I have to say that these establishments are not
usually “my thing” ... I get no enjoyment in having to pay a girl to gyrate
naked in front of me. If I have to pay a woman, it will always be for an
evening of sex in my hotel room – and even that is not something I have done
with any great frequency.
It’s still relatively early and
the club is not that busy. As soon as we enter, a bevy of beautiful girls
(mostly eastern European) descend upon us, entreating us to purchase champagne
and a dance with them. I brush off several with a smile and a comment that I’ve
only come in for a drink and “maybe a dance later”.
It therefore comes as a major
surprise to me when a pretty young girl moves towards me and enquires of me “Mr
Walker?” I turn to look at her more closely ... she’s in her early 20s,
long-ish hair dyed a very dark red, wearing a black bra and matching French
knickers, with a tattoo of a vine running up the side of her leg and across her
tummy, I’m pretty sure I have never seen her before in my life.
“Oh gosh, this is embarrassing”,
she says. She may be blushing, but the club is far too dark to tell.
“You clearly have an advantage
over me”, I say, having to lean close to her to make myself heard over the
rather loud r’n’b soundtrack in the place.
“I’m Melissa, -------‘s friend!”
she says, and it all clicks into place. She was an old school friend of my 22 year old
daughter and had attended several of ------‘s birthday parties. She had moved
away at 17 and my wife had only recently asked my daughter if she was still in
contact with Melissa. “No”, had come the reply.
“Well”, I say “This was the last
place I expected to see you again” and offer to buy her a drink.
Over the next ten minutes she
tells me that she had left school and had started work as a PA for a company
director before discovering that she could earn three times as much dancing in
clubs. She’d moved to Barcelona three months earlier.
The club is far too noisy to talk
so I ask if we can meet for a coffee the following day. I went to give her a
business card but she says she wasn’t allowed to accept them – club rules – but
told me the name and address of a coffee bar and I put the details into my
phone. I then tell her she’d better go
off and earn some money
Ten minutes later, I see her disappearing
into a booth with one of the blokes I’d come in with. I have to admit this made
me feel slightly uncomfortable and told my other friends I’d meet them in the
bar next door
The following day I slip away
from a seminar to go meet Melissa. I have no trouble recognising her today, as
I see her sat outside wearing jeans, a t-shirt, trainers, and a bright pink
baseball cap. I order a coffee and a
brandy for both of us.
The next couple of hours seemed
to melt away. She confirmed she had no contact with my daughter or their mutual
friends and asked that I didn’t tell them that I’d met her. She seemed a little
embarrassed by her new job and said she was only doing it because the pay was
so good and she was saving hard. She was
very pleasant company, and reminded me that she had always been “the joker in
the pack” – the comedienne in my daughter’s circle. But there was also a
sensuousness about her … an inate sense of her own sexuality and the effect it
had on others.
It was time for me to leave and I
told her how nice it had been to spend the afternoon with her. IO gave her a
kiss on the cheek and was about to walk away when she blurted out “What are you
doing later?”. As I turned to look at her, I thought I detected signs of her
blushing.
“I’m supposed to be going to a
dinner”, I said “Are you not working?”
“Not tonight”, she said “I work
four days on and three off, and tonight is my first night off”
Libertine or not, I felt a pang
of guilt at my feelings of wanting to spend more time with this (very) young
lady. But … hey!
“Shall we go out to dinner”, I
said.
“That would be lovely”
I got her to write down her
address and said I would pick her up at 8.00pm. The next few hours left me
pondering why I hadn’t taken down her phone number. Had I done, I probably would have rung to
cancel, making some excuse. However,
being a gentleman, I could not just not turn up so I got my hotel to get me a
taxi and I headed for her apartment
I pressed the intercom and the
door buzzed open as her voice emanated from the speaker, saying “second floor”. She opened the door just as I climbed the
last step. She looked stunning. She was
wearing a simple black and orange dress, short but loose-fitting, with bare
legs and feet. After I tore my eyes away from her, I also saw a table laid for
two behind her.
“I thought I’d cook, rather than
go out”, she said.
“Fine”, I thought, and my
misgivings about the evening started to evaporate to be replaced by a feeling
that I had to have this girl.
It was a simple meal of paella
and salad, but very tasty and was washed down with a couple of bottles of cheap
but pleasant red wine. Again,
conversation came easy and I was truly relaxed by 10pm when we cleared the
table.
The kitchen was, in reality,
little more than a galley with barely enough room for two people. As she put
the dishes in the sink, I had to squeeze past to get to the fridge. As I did,
my groin brushed against her and I felt her move almost imperceptibly back against
me. I stopped. She turned. She looked up at me and I bent down to kiss her
gently.
I had intended to thank her for
the meal but passion overtook me. The gentle kiss turned hungry, and she
responded by sliding her hand up my chest. I placed my hand behind her and
moved down towards her ass. I was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing panties, and I
found this to be true as I slid my hand up her dress and cupped her pert ass in
my hand. As I did this, she moved her
hand to rub against my trousers and swelling cock.
All sense left me. I put my hands
under her arms and lifted her onto the work surface. She responded by lifting
her legs and let them rest on my shoulders. I did not even bother to remove my
trousers. I unzipped and let my cock spring free, before guiding it into her
sopping wet gash. She gasped, and pulled my face to her as I pushed into her. I
reached down and rubbed her clit in time with my thrusts.
After several minutes of pure,
animal, fucking I lifted her down and let her mouth find my cock. However, I
could feel I was very close to climax, so pulled her up and whispered “let’s go
to bed”
Once in the bedroom, she
undressed me completely and then pushed me to lay down on the bed. She then
pulled her dress over her head, revealing a complete lack of underwear. She straddled me and I cupped her small but
perfectly formed breasts. As she rode
me, I squeezed her nipples – clearly something she loved.
Again, I was on the point of
coming so told her. She climbed off me and started to lick my cock until the
spunk shot onto her face, hair and breasts.
Wiping herself off with the sheet, she snuggled down beside me.
I don’t remember falling asleep
but I woke with sun streaming into the bedroom and seeing Melissa nestling in
the crook of my arm with her legs wrapped around me. When she woke, we made
love. Not the fierce, aggressive love-making of the night before but gently,
lovingly, softly.
I never did get back to the
conference. We went out for breakfast, wandered around the old town, had a
couple of drinks, went back to her apartment, and made love again.
I had to leave mid-afternoon to
get back to my hotel to pack as I was flying home that evening. The parting was
a rather sad one, and I wondered if I would ever see Melissa again.
I did, and still do. She moved
back to the UK and now works in a city I have to visit regularly. In fact, I’ve
even visited her new club and bought a few dances from her. Always great fun,
and even more fun when we meet up after she finishes work.
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