Several years ago, I found myself unexpectedly in Barcelona for a few months. It was a wonderful place to be, but also a very stressful time. I didn't speak Catalan, and only the most broken Spanish. Doing the whole let's get drunk/stoned/tripped and party thing isn't really my style. I had a ridiculous amount of work to do while I was there, I was feeling more than a little isolated.
For the first month, I had a room in an apartment near the main tourist strip, a dilapidated, gloomy little place, where I had an internal room with no natural light, and a narrow set of vents all around the top of the walls. Not a lot of privacy for a juicy wank. With all those lovely Catalan women and bikini-clad touristas walking about, my balls would ache about an hour after my morning wank in the shower, just walking about the streets.
The heat added another dimension of horniness. Just the sensation of my balls hanging looser in my shorts, my cock already half swollen, the smell of a woman on the metro, of heat, of sweat, of perfume, and sometimes, I swear, of her pussy. When else do you smell these things except in sex? It was the strangest sense of being intimately within a woman's personal space, despite not touching, and not even being able to have a conversation.
I was so frustrated. I tried to really discipline myself and lock it out of my mind. No sex, no attachment to those thoughts. I'd had a couple of days of success with that.
I had started going onto the roof in the late afternoons.I needed to escape into the light and breeze out of the gloom and stuffiness of the apartment. There, you could see the heat rippling off crumbling terracotta tiles for miles around, even in the evening. And it was almost always peaceful up there, and almost always alone. Even squeezed into the co-joining buildings, the roof top terrace was like a little courtyard of solitude.
I had found another apartment in a better part of the town, up in Gracia, if you know Barcelona. I'd been packing up and dealing with a neurotic landlandy who had a neat little habit of breaking into Catalan whenever there was something she wanted me to be unclear about.
I needed a breather, I went up onto the roof. It was hot and I was sweaty, so I took off my shirt.
But there on the roof, with the hot breeze like lovers' fingers, lovers' breath, caressing my skin, my balls were so full, so tight they ached, and I realised they had ached for days, but I hadn't admitted it.
I was instantly erect.
I looked around and no one, as ever no one. Like the rest of my life, but here it was peaceful, empty, waiting So I leaned back against the wall, and pulled it out from the leg of my shorts, and touched it, fondled it, and eventually started pulling it, hard. I was so captured in the physicality of that moment. There was nothing but the sense of heat, touch and pleasure.
And then I heard a noise. Of course. The one day that I was going to see someone else up here, it was going to be today. Now, sure enough, over to my right I see two heads peeping around the wall from the next building.
I had to laugh, a lot. The ridiculousness of all this What else was there to do? They started laughing too, two women. So I slipped my self back into my shorts, still throbbing despite my embarrassment, an obvious bulge in my pants, and wandered towards their viewing point.
I apologized to them, two ladies, one in her 50s, the other in her late 30s I think. Could have been mother and daughter for all I know, but they didn't act like it. Anyway, the older one spoke broken English, and with my broken Spanish, they were all smiles.
'A nice place to do it!' said the older one, 'with the sun, the space.'
I kept laughing and apologizing, saying I was a single man, I had been working too much lately, I though I was alone.
I was huge in my shorts. Both of them couldn't stop looking at it, and I kept moving my hand to try and cover it, but not wanting to draw attention to it. Every time I touched it, every time my shorts moved across it, wow so intense.
We had reached an awkward point in the conversation, what else to say? I couldn't help it. I couldn't go back to my flat with the guys there.
So I asked if I could finish.
'Sí!' was the enthusiastic reply. They half stepped away, but it was clear they didn't want to go, and they were probably going to watch again...
I asked if they wanted to watch.
They paused, looked really secretly delighted, but trying to hide it, I don't know. What is the protocol in a situation like this?
To be honest, I can't quite remember how it happened, but the next thing I remember is they were coming close to the railing, and I was stepping out of my shorts and underwear, completely naked and throbbing just beneath them. I could feel their eyes and the breeze equally all over me, my chest, by back, my butt, my legs, thighs, my balls, my cock, everything. The younger one particularly was leaning over the railing so much I thought she was going to fall.
I squatted down, opened my legs to them, and grabbed my cock, and started to stroke it. I closed my eyes, one hand holding onto the wall next to me, and really sank down into the pleasure of it.
Then I opened my eyes, half to just see them there, that this was actually happening. I looked up into their eyes, all smiles and delight and sex, flicking from my eyes to my body and to my cock. I closed my eyes, and exploded across the tiles. There was so much, it felt like a flood. I felt it pumping from the base of my balls, from the pit of my stomach, from the base of my soul, up through the shaft to rush up out through the head, into space and sun and the lover-breeze, and their gaze.
I came very close to blacking out.
I couldn't stop groaning. I fell back onto the tiles, hot and rough on my naked ass. My cock still in my hand, wet and glistening in the sun, with that lazy, satisfied fatness to it, still feeling sensual as I gently rubbed my semen along the head, as it dribbled in the hot sun down onto my balls.
I just lay there laughing gently. They chuckled too, still gazing at me, at the cum that painted the tiles for a good meter in front of me, saying something in Spanish. After that, I slowly picked myself up, mopping up my hand, my balls, my chest, and my now soft and dangling cock with my underwear.
We said some things briefly, I can't remember, as I got dressed in some sort of surreal haze. I left, with the last thing in my ears the sound of the younger one chuckling huskily, and the older one saying, 'no, no, this is our little secret.' I can't believe that actually happened, it just seems so surreal.
I went downstairs to the flat, showered, and went straight to sleep for hours, cool, deep and peaceful.