One Night in Madrid

By MultyAmory

Published on Mar 2, 2011

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I went into the warm, welcoming night of Madrid looking for sex. The city was loud, the streets full of people, though it was almost midnight. Young, colorfully dressed people were everyone. The district was obviously, massively gay. In one small square, stood more than a hundred people, teenagers, young adults, some older people - their shirts tight, their bodies well-toned, their pants stylish. I was horny, I wanted to fuck something, but the multitude of people got me embarrassed.

I left the packed square, and on my way out, a tall boy with no shirt gave me a flyer for a club; the flyer had a picture of a naked man, posing - and I smiled at him - but the boy was already gone. Not sure where the club was, I took a cab there. The driver gave me a knowing look in the rear-view mirror, but I had no Spanish, and he even less English.

Buying entrance from a bored looking girl in garish makeup, I went inside; a cavernous room, filled with smoke, the music throbbing, and bodies packed everywhere. This wasn't dancing, though the music was so thick you could feel it on your skin more than the smoke. No. This was writhing together, pressing against each other, sweat, and touch, and smell, all together.

I went to the bar, and I drank three shots in quick succession - and then went back to the floor. At some point my crotch was pressed against someone, and my hands were holding someone's waist so he would press hard against my ass. The lights throbbed in my eyes, and I was blind, but my lips found someone else's and we kissed. My head buzzed, by body thrummed, and I'm not sure how but I was pressing someone against the wall of the club, hidden behind a giant pillar. The lights were giving us deep shadows, and we were removed from the insane crowd; his mouth was strong against mine, and his stubble pricked my lips and cheeks. I licked his lips, and my hand felt his cock, out of his pants. I think he didn't have any underwear. He was more sober than me, had more control; I fumbled jacking him off, and my kisses were wide, erratic, sloppy, wet. I devoured his face more than kissed him. He pushed me against the wall, switching places with me, and than disappeared from sight. I felt light fingers opening my pants, easing the elastic band of my shorts over my aching dick. Something hot and wet engulfed my cock's head. I started grunting, but nothing could be sound over the sound of the music. He deep throated me, and held me inside; I shouted for him to make me cum, but he couldn't hear me. He got back up, and as he kissed me, his tongue darted in my mouth, exploring me. I moaned inside his mouth, and two well-trained hands smeared my cock with something very wet and very cold and very slick...

We switched places again, but this time, his back was turned to me. He said something to me, several times. Maybe in Spanish, maybe in broken English. I don't know - I know I found his asshole, wide open, and slick with the same lubricant that he smeared on my cock. I entered him, and he was so tight that I gasped for air. I cried out and stayed in him for a few seconds, before pulling out, and it was like a velvet angel was jerking me off. I entered him again, and pulled out, and then again, and soon my tempo was up and I was slamming into him again and again and again... I don't know how long it was. I know I came, and just kept fucking him, like I was on drugs. Maybe I was. After some long minutes, I fell exhausted against his back, which was completely covered in sweat. He turned his head to me, and we share a long kiss. Then I pulled out of him, and pulled my pants up, and was out of the club before he turned around.

I felt cold, and realized I was sitting on a banch in Plaza de Cibeles; the huge buildings towered over me, ancient castles and beautiful palaces. There were lights everywhere, but I wanted to get out of the night's air. I walked in the lobby of a large hotel, and made my way to the bar. The cold air sobered me up, and I felt parched. Sitting at the bar, I ordered a soda, and looked around. Immediately I was struck by the view of a beautiful Chinese woman; she was small, two small breasts, very tight ass, and short black hair that reminded me of Fabienne from "Pulp Fiction". I never learned her name, and I never heard her speak - but I called her Fabienne in my mind from that moment on, and though she was clearly Chinese, somehow thought of her as French. We exchanged looks, and she smiled a small, seductive smile.

"Beautiful, no?" Said a masculine voice with a British accent. I turned to look. Sitting next to me, so close we could kiss with no effort, sat a tall man, with plain face and brown hair. "Charlie" he said, and I introduced myself, and we shook hands. I turned to look back at Fabienne, and found her facing my, crossing her legs. She started rubbing one perfect leg against the other, like a cat might rub against a sofa. I couldn't stop thinking about the snatch between those perfect legs, and couldn't shake the feeling she wasn't wearing any panties.

Charlie said something, and I answered. He was asking questions, personal questions. But my eyes never left Fabienne's, and in a few minutes I was hard as a rock. I wanted to fuck her, badly, but she wasn't talking, or made any movement to move from her chair and sit closer to me. Instead Charlie asked questions and I answered him - that I was in Madrid for a short while, that I missed my last train back to my hotel, that I liked to suck cock and eat pussy, to fuck and be fucked, and that I was horny, hornier than I was earlier that evening, and all I could think of was sticking my cock inside that petite until she screamed.

Charlie stood up, and he took my hand and got me to stand up as well. He already paid my bill, so we just walked over. He leaned over to her, and whispered at her ear, and she laughed, a little silvery chime. Then she rose from the chair with grace, and smoothly linked her arm with his other arm. He took us to the elevators, and when we went in, he stood in the exact center of the elevator, me on one side of him, she on the other. I buzzed with excitement...

Charlie opened the door to a room (his?) and we went inside. Fabienne went to stand by the bed, dancing with herself without music. I approached her, slowly, as if afraid to frighten her. He embraced her from behind, kissing her neck, licking her ears. She moaned softly, grinding her perfect ass against my hard-on. My hands found the zipper in the back, and when I opened her dress it dropped to the ground with a silky sound, and she stood there, naked and perfect, two round perky breasts, her nipples hard, and her pussy only lightly covered with hair... I took her in my arms, and kissed her. Her tongue was like a small snake in my mouth, and her breath smelled like spice. I took her to the bed, and laid her on it, and she spread her legs, smiling at me. I stood there, taking my cloths off slowly, while she slowly writhed on the bed, her hands rubbing her breasts and lightly stroking her clit. She smiled to herself, as if from a secret joke...

Naked, I climbed into the bed, and when I penetrated her, I like like fire

  • like my body was on fire with sexual energy, and fucking her was like burning up. He cunt felt so smooth and warm and tight around my cock, that I never wanted this feeling to end... When I felt Charlie's tongue in my ass, I moaned. "Fuck" I said, the first word I said that night to someone who could understand me, someone I wanted to fuck "fuck, that feels good..." and I wasn't sure if I was talking to the silky heat around my cock or the wet tongue up my ass. He licked up and down my crack, and I shuddered with excitement. Then his finger entered my dark hole, and I slammed into Fabienne so hard she shouted with glee. I started breathing hard, and then his second finger went in and I grunted hard, slowly fucking her, going into her, and then out and on his fingers... then Charlie's fingers were out of my ass, and I felt empty.

For a short while - then his cock was in me - and when he hit my inner sanctum, I forgot myself. I fucked and fucked Fabienne, slamming into her again and again, and every time I came out of her, Charlie slammed into me. We got into a rhythm and fucked for an hour, tirelessly, drawing energy from each other. All I wanted was to fuck and be fucked all night long... when I finally came inside her I was so worn out, I immediately pulled out and went to sleep. I was exhausted, the city fucked me every which way she could, and I was thoroughly satisfied...

POLYAMORY IS WRONG! It is either Multiamory or Polyphilia, but mixing Greek and Latin Roots? WRONG!

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