I met Maria* in the bathroom of a student bar that was playing cheesy pop songs from the early 2000s. Our conversation started as we complimented each other’s outfits, and soon we discovered our shared love for anime, dystopian fiction, and all things nerdy. This sparked the beginning of a perfect nerdy friendship.
At 18 years old, I had recently moved out of my family home to attend college in a different city. Being shy and introverted, I felt out of place during much of freshman orientation. However, Maria came along and changed that. Several years older than me, she had already experienced the party scene and had a boyfriend back in Spain. She had come to my school in the UK for a semester abroad. We bonded over movie nights fueled by cheap wine and experimented with packet ramen. We were the perfect pair of homebodies. Through our friendship, I learned a lot about Maria as well. She was born and raised in Granada, her boyfriend was her high school sweetheart, and she lived with her dad in her hometown due to her parents’ divorce.
When the semester ended, I was disappointed, but Maria and I stayed in touch through social media. I made new friends at school, and a few months later, Maria suggested that I visit Granada for a week during summer break. She offered for me to stay with her at her dad’s place and explore the city together. I couldn’t turn down the chance for a European holiday, so I booked budget airline tickets and quickly found myself in Spain. After catching up during the drive from the airport, Maria introduced me to her dad, Marco*. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was flirting with me. Prior to meeting him, I had imagined the stereotypical image of a dad with a beer belly and receding hairline. However, Marco shattered that image. He had the physique of a Hemsworth brother, with a strong jawline and muscles clearly visible through his shirt. With his dark curls, chocolate eyes, and a height of 6’3, he surpassed Maria in both height and physical presence. The touch of grey in his hair and the smile lines around his eyes only added to his attractiveness. Up until that moment, I had never quite understood the appeal of older men, but it suddenly clicked.
In his Spanish accent, Marco greeted me with a warm, “Hello Arya, it’s lovely to meet you.” Stuttering in response, I awkwardly thanked him for hosting me. Marco had prepared dinner for us, and I found myself engaged in small talk at the kitchen table. All the while, I struggled to hide my enamoration with this strikingly attractive man. I caught him noticing my glances, and he responded with a teasing, dimpled smile. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was flirting with me. I scolded myself, thinking it was ridiculous to assume he would reciprocate my crush, especially considering the age difference and the fact that he was my friend’s dad. It had to go against some girl code, right?
Yet, Marco continued to push my moral boundaries. Every night, he would emerge from the bathroom, dripping wet and wearing only a towel around his waist. He would turn towards me with that dangerous smile and huskily say, “Good night, Arya,” before heading to his room. I tried to distract myself from the overwhelming desire I felt by focusing on our sightseeing adventures. Maria and I strolled through the quaint streets of the spice market and marveled at the breathtaking Moorish architecture of cathedrals and parks. However, each day Marco became bolder in his subtle advances. They were subtle enough that Maria wouldn’t notice, but enough to stir me up. It was in the little things—his fingers lingering on mine as he passed me a glass of Rioja, or the gentle strokes of my hair while “fixing” a stray strand. He showed a level of attentiveness and soft-spokenness that I had not experienced with my previous partners. He asked genuine questions about my family and aspirations without sounding patronizing, despite the age gap. The night before my departure, Marco strolled out of the bathroom after his customary shower. He turned to me, smiled, and bid me, “Good night, Arya.” I realized that this would be the end of our secretly tantalizing nighttime ritual. Instead of heading to his room, however, he stood there for a moment longer.
In that split second, something came over me, and I walked over to him. My hands trembled with anticipation as I unraveled his towel, letting it gracefully fall to the floor. His impressive size took me aback. I lowered myself to my knees and began kissing him, starting at the tip and gradually working my way down with slow, sensuous licks. I felt him grow harder beneath my tongue as he released a muffled groan (Maria was just in the next room), followed by a series of whispered expletives. Taking as much of him into my mouth as I could, I looked up into his eyes while continuing to pleasure him. Witnessing his face contort in pleasure only fueled my desire further.
Marco grasped me by the neck, a rough yet tender gesture, and pulled me in for a passionate kiss. His hands explored my waist and ass as our tongues danced. Already breathless, we finally separated. However, Marco desired more. He swiftly turned me around, bending me over the couch, and continued to kiss his way down from the nape of my neck, tracing along my spine. This was the first time I had engaged in sexual activity without receiving oral pleasure first, yet I was incredibly aroused. Marco entered me from behind, and the sensation was electrifying. I moaned, but he quickly covered my mouth with his hand, conscious of Maria’s presence just on the other side of the door. He began to move inside me, starting at a teasingly slow pace before gradually building to a faster rhythm. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, and reached orgasm. My pussy contracted intensely as Marco climaxed inside me a few seconds later.
For a few moments, we simply laid there in awe, him draped over my body. Eventually, we gathered ourselves and exchanged a final kiss on my forehead before he walked away. The next morning, I said my goodbyes and flew home as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Maria and I have remained in touch since then, and she has even visited me in London. As far as I can tell, she has no idea about our rendezvous. (Thank goodness!) Yet, I find myself eagerly awaiting another tempting invitation to a steamy Spanish getaway. *Name has been changed.