Part 22
You would think that Barcelona is sprinkled with delicate Españolitas yet it's the fiery Latinas that drown the noise of the city with their moaning.
I met Olivia at a massage parlor the day I arrived. I was in need of untwisting, the jet lag had kinked me up.
The room was tastefully decorated, the bed was low to the ground. The sheets were blue with silver trimming.
This was not my first time in a massage parlor but it was my first sensual massage.
She opened the door, I walked ahead of her, as I was taking the room in she disrobed. Then there were three of us in the room, Olivia, me and the dragon.
It looked and felt as if she was born with it. The tattoo that adorned her from her arm pit to just above her knee was alive.
I later found out she was from Bolivia. she had onyx hair it was thick and lush, I loved it.
Her breast fit in the cup of my hand, her nipples were very dark, dark to the point that they had a shine to them. The curve of her ass was perfect. This beast was compact yet enthralling.
She bid me to lay and I complied.
She stuck her left hand in a jar and scooped up warm oil that she generously smeared on her body. She rubbed on me as if I was the ocean and she was swimming for dear life. She was on me.
She wouldn't speak it's as if she had perfected this art, she wasn't massaging me with her hands but rather her body.
Her weight on me, her hair on my face, it was disorienting.
I grabbed her hair and brought her lips to mine but she resisted and barely let her lips flutter atop mine. I was intent on stabbing her with my spear. I whispered to her ear that I would tip her generously for the full affair, I was so aroused.
She resisted and kept on the war path to destroy my body with hers.
I surrendered to pleasure, everything in me left.
As I lay there she got the water running and called for me to shower with her.
I don't know if it's the culture or her professionalism but she lathered and scrubbed me from head to toe.
I returned the favor by letting my fingers explore her flesh as they cleansed this beauty.
We dried up and dressed when the small talk began. She asked me were I was from and why was I in Barcelona.
I told her that I was a Cuban poet from Miami and that I would explain to her my reason for being there if she would go out with me and show me the city.
She asked for my number and said that she might send me a Whatsapp.
I left with a smile on my face and hope in my heart for more.
To be continued.
