I had never been to Barcelona, but anyone I knew who had been there raved about what a wonderful place it was and that they could easily live there. To me this was placing it in the same category as New York City which I loved since the day I arrived while I was still a high school student. A Barcelona man wrote to me when he noted that I was arriving a month later and declared that he really wanted to meet me. Lupo declared that he was a top in his early fifties and could speak English. I would be in Barcelona for nine days and I thought that it would be good to have some local company.
We corresponded through email a number of times before my arrival. Lupo asked what I wanted to do in Barcelona and I explained my walking routine, but I also had a desire to see some genuine flamenco. He offered to get some tickets for us to see a show and I explained that that was not what I wanted. I had no interest in the shows for tourists, but rather the bars where men and women danced in a close environment and the music was passionate. For those places, there were no tickets, perhaps a cover charge or minimum food and drink bill. He understood and I declared that I would figure it out when I was there. My ex who had studied flamenco in New York City suggested that I go to one of the flamenco schools and ask where they danced at night. That was an excellent idea.
I was excited to be in Barcelona and was going to be in an Airbnb where it would be just me and the host. What I liked most about the place was that it was not in a tourist area and it had a very large balcony for sitting and viewing the downtown area. Martin, the host, was a very handsome early thirties Catalan man who was studying to become a pilot. Both his school and girlfriend were in Madrid, so he would leave the next morning and be gone for a week. I would have the place to myself. What a delight! I watched Martin while he prepared his dinner and noted that there were spicy peppers that went into the cooking. He declared that it had happened since meeting this girlfriend because she enjoyed spicy food and he was becoming influenced. She had changed his cooking even when he cooked only for himself.
Martin was very adept in the kitchen and his English was excellent. As a teenager, he had lived for a time with his grandfather in Columbia and was sent to the American school. The grandfather was an engineer who was designing highways and subway systems in Columbia during the height of the cartel period. Martin was driven by a bodyguard to and from the private school. I couldn’t imagine the impact of that. He had inherited the flat in Barcelona from his grandfather which was a common way in Europe for property to come into one’s possession. He loved the neighborhood because it was still locals although only five blocks away tourists would be filling hotels. He informed me that it was a difficult life for people his age, because work didn’t pay enough to have any luxury and couples couldn’t afford a baby. The birthrate in Spain was below one. Our conversation was pleasant and easy and I was happy to encounter a fine English speaker. Once he was gone, I quickly missed our intelligent conversation.
My Airbnb space was within walking distance of the sea and that was where I went on the day after I settled in. The water was bright and shiny with sailboats cruising along while people sunbathed on sand in the mid October sun. Children ran around freely and young boys and girls practiced their skateboard skills on ramps in the nearby park while parents looked on for safety. Athletic joggers ran by in both directions enjoying the freshness of the sea air. Entertainingly, the place I came to on the beach was the clothing optional area. People of all ages including families with children were comfortably nude fully exposed on the blankets they had brought. I truly appreciated that liberated approach.
I happened to be in Barcelona during one of the huge Catalan uprisings. The court had placed heavy sentences on the Catalan politicians who wanted to secede from Spain and the Catalans were in an uproar. A march was planned for Sunday and I noted that the main street by my place had very little traffic but Catalan flags were flying from many residential balconies. I took my second walk to the sea and crossed the main highway that headed to downtown. There were no cars but thousands of marchers with signs and Catalan flags chanting in Catalan so I didn’t know what they were saying. There was to be a convergence of three groups taking different avenues to the center. The highway was closed in both directions but the orderly, law abiding Catalans were only on the correct side of the highway! I hadn’t seen this size of demonstration since the Vietnam era. In total a million people took to the streets of Barcelona that day. I was impressed by their commitment and passion, but then it was also a beautiful day for walking.
I decided that the flamenco happened too late at night during these turbulent times, so I cancelled that idea. Lupo suggested that we meet at a bar or café near my place so that we could get to know one another. I agreed and we set a late afternoon time. There was a Metro stop and an outside café just a few hundred feet from my location. He hadn’t sent a face photo, but I had a good description and there wouldn’t be many single men sitting at this café where people were rarely seen alone.
As I approached the café, he noted me and waved, encouraging me to come over. Lupo had a warm smile and an energetic handshake that went well with his stocky build. He looked like a bureaucrat in the grey suit but I sensed a rougher core beneath the cultured appearance. He had a five o’clock shadow that encouraged a slightly scruffy look. Lupo was having a coffee and when the server arrived, I asked for a tempranillo which they didn’t have so Lupo suggested a rioja which was fine. We had an open conversation since there was only one other table with guests and we were speaking in English. It turned out that he was in the government and married. Lupo was bisexual, but very closeted although the gay life in Barcelona allowed one to be fairly open. To remain married, it was necessary for him to lead two lives which were compartmentalized on all levels. Perhaps all parts of his life were kept in tidy boxes.
Lupo was very excited to hear about my touring since he enjoyed traveling, but could never be as unbounded as I was. I think he envied me the freedom that I had created, but knew that it was not possible for him. Perhaps that was part of what attracted him to me, not so much as a person, but the life that I was leading. He wanted to be a part of that even if only briefly.
I decided that there was some attraction for me and I offered to show him my nearby space. He happily agreed and paid the server. As we walked the short distance to my place, I was grateful that my host was in Madrid. Getting into my Airbnb required one key for the security gate, one electronic device to get into the building and another key for the apartment door when we got to the fifth floor. I closed the final door and turned to Lupo who was standing in the living room waiting for me to finish. He quickly lunged at me and pressed his lips hard against mine. I was shocked by the suddenness which hadn’t been exhibited until then. He must have been using a lot of energy to keep himself so restrained.
He hurriedly undid the buttons on my shirt exposing the hairless chest. His moist lips moved quickly from one nipple to another like a man starved for nurturing. I enjoyed having my nipples sucked on and as a married man Lupo treated them as though I were a female. I reached down to his dress pants and felt that his cock was already very firm and seeking attention. I invited him to the bedroom and saw a smile of eager anticipation broaden across the swarthy face.
Clothes came off quickly and soon we were naked side by side in the twin sized bed. Lupo kissed a little slower this time and spent time rubbing his mouth on my naked body as he headed for my firm cock. He was moderately hairy with no trimming done, like many married men. The aggression reappeared when he reached the tip of my cock and swallowed it whole where it pressed against the back of his hot throat. I groaned with pleasure which drove him to excitedly pump quickly up and down on the shaft. It must have been a long time since he was naked with a man. I felt his own hard cock pressing on my leg and enjoyed the sensation.
Lupo moved his full body on top of me placing his cock evenly with mine as he kissed my lips sweetly while frotting our two hard dicks together. I loved feeling his hard dick pressing anywhere on my body but we were now working up a sweat which was lubricating both of our manhoods. He bit me on the side of the neck and I sensed his passion growing into a need more than a desire.
He pulled back and lifted my legs into the air so that my anal opening was exposed. Lupo used some of our sweat to slip in a finger and find my prostate. He used his other hand to stroke my cock. I was fully enjoying the sweaty mess we were making and my own passion was expanding. Before I could tell what he was doing, Lupo replaced the finger with a cock. He didn’t hesitate but plunged his hard shaft inside in one strong thrust that broke into me with force. My eyes opened wide and I gasped from the pain and surprise. I held my hand flat against his chest to indicate that I needed him to stay just there for a minute while I got used to being full of cock. He understood, remaining in place until I was ready. Unfortunately, Lupo only knew one speed of pumping in and out.
At the same time that his hard cock was thrusting vigorously into me, he was stroking my own dick. The pleasure was tremendous and both of us were now fully stimulated with our bodies bouncing on the small bed. As his shaft hardened further before coming it pressed just the right way on my prostate and I let out a huge load of cum into the air. He grunted his orgasm seconds later and provided a large exhale as sperm filled my opening. Lupo could no longer hold himself up and crashed his sweaty body onto mine while still keeping his cock inside. I loved feeling his weight sinking into me, merging us beyond just his hard member. I held him close while he relaxed and let go of all that had been so pent up.
Lupo stayed in that position for five minutes while his sweat poured from him onto me and the sheet below. It was a very manly wetness that provided pleasure. He didn’t speak but his breathing eased as he relaxed into me. A short time later I felt his cock slowly sliding out of my warm space. Once his dick was no longer inside, I heard the whispered words, “I have to leave.” I wanted to know more about him but that was not to be. Lupo wasn’t the first married man I’d met who needed to quickly close the door of bisexual life and make a hasty retreat to the security of everyday life. I understand that and may have been that way myself during my early exploration days.
He got up and went to the bathroom while I relaxed naked on the bed rubbing the moisture of his sweat and the sperm on my stomach. Life in Barcelona was great. Lupo was dressed and at the door before I even realized he had finished in the bathroom. He thanked me and exited like a man late for work or an important meeting. I just stayed on the bed and enjoyed the scent of sex that lingered in the room while I stared up at the ceiling, knowing that this runaway man was unlikely to return. Even though our physical time had been short, it had been full of heat and passion, resulting in a satisfying experience. My only shortcoming was that I wouldn’t learn more about Lupo’s hidden bisexual life.