Bar Refaeli In Barcelona Ch 01

This is a work of fiction. This multi-chapter series explores themes such as free use and wife sharing. It features interconnected story elements across all chapters that are recommended to be read in order.

PROLOGUE

Every time I enter a board room, I can always expect the businessmen on the other side of the table to ask me the same question: 'How's the wife?' On the surface, that type of question about spouses could be passed off as typical small talk before a meeting. But I'm married to Israeli supermodel Bar Refaeli, and I suspect every businessman thats asks me about her is hoping I divulge just enough to fill their wildest imaginations.

I love bringing Bar with me on business trips, if only because our busy schedules make it hard to spend time together otherwise. These trips are always fun for us because we follow a simple formula: I conduct business in the daytime, then we enjoy ourselves after hours. We eat great food, stay in beautiful hotels, and enjoy exotic nightlife.

EARLY MORNING

Bar, myself, and Adam arrive at Barcelona airport, having suffered through a long, uncomfortable flight from Israel. We're welcomed at the airport by a private driver who escorts us to a black SUV. Our driver politely reminds me that the transportation, hotel accommodations, and restaurant reservations for the trip are all courtesy of Cristiano, my friend and primary business contact in Spain.

The three of us jump into the car. First stop is the hotel to get settled in. In the car, I watch the sun rise through the tinted window. Bar's tired head leans against my left shoulder, her eyes closed, and I stroke her blonde hair to comfort her. Her hand rests inside my jacket pocket to stay warm. With my other hand, I review my notepad to make sure I'm fully prepared for my meeting in a couple hours at Cristiano's offices.

Bar and I sink into the backseats relaxingly while Adam, my assistant, sits in the passenger seat.

"How many more minutes to the hotel?" I ask Adam.

"30 minutes, sir. Can I get you anything?" he responds.

"—You can be quiet while I try to sleep!" Bar interrupts, clearly still irritable from our insufferable red eye flight.

"Sorry ma'am," Adam responds sincerely, then turns his head back around toward the front.

Adam is frequently on the receiving end of Bar's mood swings. He's a young man with a kind heart, but Bar often treats him like a little brother she loves to bully and tease. Adam is actually my sister's stepson whom I've employed as my assistant for the past six months. So he's not even blood-related, but I care for his well-being just the same. He's half my age and has half my conviction, so I try to boost his confidence every now and then, usually involving Bar.

"Adam, she's just tired. Can you mark her calendar for a massage? I'll book her an appointment at the hotel."

"Yes sir, will do."

"In the meantime, you can massage her feet to help her sleep."

"...Quiet please," Bar murmurs to both of us.

I remove Bar's sandals and she subtly groans in annoyance. With her eyes still closed, she does her best to maintain sleep as I place her calves and feet up on the car's center armrest. Before Adam's fingers reach her feet, I stop him momentarily. "Use lotion. It's smoother."

"The lotion is in the luggage, in the trunk sir," he quietly responds.

"Okay let me look in her purse for some," I tell him.

I reach over Bar's lap and grab her purse and start digging for a pocket-sized lotion bottle. I shuffle past her various makeup kits, her phone, wallet, and three different brands of condom boxes

.

I finally pull out a small liquid container and hand it to Adam.

"Here, use this," I tell him. It's too late before I realize I've handed him a small bottle of lube that Bar and I use, the brand's sticker label apparently removed for some reason.

"Fancy massage oil," Adam whispers cautiously, trying not disturb Bar. I try to hold back a chuckle knowing he isn't aware of what I just handed him.

Adam squirts a dime of lube onto his palm, rubs both hands together, then starts applying pressure to her arches with his thumbs. She doesn't respond verbally but I can tell by her subtle facial reaction that she feels more at ease.

"How expensive is this bottle? Does this company sponsor Bar? Should I bring this bottle to the hotel for the masseuse to use on her too?" Adam quietly fires off his list of random questions with excited glee.

He clearly enjoys whenever he gets to massage Bar. I often ask him to rub her feet, shoulders, head or hands when she's stressed. As the loyal assistant he is, he never abuses his privilege. And I never get worried or offended when I notice the erections he tends to get during these massage sessions.

[Sidebar: The funniest Adam/Bar massage memory is when at the house late at night, she's in her thin silk black nightgown and he's in an undersized shirt and boxers. I invite him to our bedroom to rub out her knots to help her fall asleep. He couldn't hide much in his boxers that night. I think he kept trying to tuck it between his legs, but it kept popping back up.]

To my credit, I never call him out on his obvious erections because I know it embarrasses him. But Bar rarely misses an opportunity to poke fun at his expense, even now with her eyes closed and in her semi-conscious state. She teases, "Adam, I bet you're hard right now, aren't you?"

Adam's cheeks turn cherry red, but he continues diligently with the massage. I can't help but smile at Bar's blunt remark (which happens to be true), but I cover my face with my notepad to save him further embarrassment.

ARRIVING AT THE HOTEL

We pull up to the entrance of the luxurious five-star hotel. Adam and Bar exit the car and head into the lobby while I hang back with the driver momentarily. He notifies me that he'll make sure he gets our luggage upstairs. Then he hands me our room key already and says we have the penthouse suite and can skip check-in at the main desk. I appreciate the VIP service.

The driver tells me he'll wait in the hotel lobby whenever I'm ready for him to drive me over to Cristiano's offices. I thank him and try to tip him. He politely refuses and then changes the subject to tell me he's going to walk over to his co-worker (another private driver) to say hello.

I enter the fancy lobby to meet Bar and Adam. With the hotel keycard in hand, I point them toward the elevators to start heading up.

INSIDE THE PENTHOUSE

Once we step inside the suite, none of the rooms are actually visible until after having walked down a deep hallway. The penthouse's layout is like walking up the short stem of a flower before reaching its petals, at which point the entire suite gorgeously blooms into view with multiple rooms, decadent furniture, golden fixtures, and various art pieces.

I spot the master bedroom to the left. It's almost too spacious, with gray walls, a mirror on the ceiling, a large television, lounge chairs, and a gigantic king-sized bed with white covers. To the left of the master is a smaller bedroom with fewer embellishments but decorated elegantly nonetheless. I point to the smaller room and say, "Adam, that's your room over there."

"Sir, I get to stay in the suite too?"

"Yes, of course. You can't be on another floor if we need your help," I reply.

Bar quips, "Adam, just don't masturbate too loud in your room when we're having sex. These walls look thin."

Adam angles his face down in embarrassment. I smile in jest and try to save his dignity by telling Bar, "Love, you look refreshed now. His foot massage helped you sleep in the car, no?" After saying that, a part of me already regrets that I may have only set Bar up to respond with another playful put-down.

"Yes, it was very good. Thank you Adam. I did sleep better," she surprisingly and genuinely says to him from across the room. I always appreciate whenever she appreciates him, especially when I least expect it.

"You're very welcome ma'am. Can I help with anything else?" Adam says with a renewed smile, his face no longer looking down at his shoes.

I chime in, "Yes actually, can you go downstairs and make sure all our luggage gets up here soon? I need to change into my suit before I leave. Here, take the room key."

"Okay I'll be back, sir." Adam heads back downstairs, glad that his excellent foot massage has at least made Bar happy for the time being.

Bar and I plop down on the couch in the suite's living room, wondering what to do with an hour before I need to leave. She asks me, "How do you feel? Need help to prepare more?"

"I think I'm ready, love."

"Good, you'll do great, as always. Well, do you want to watch TV? ...or ...maybe film a quick video?"

Bar and I like to film video clips of ourselves on my phone when we travel together. I love editing and rewatching them whenever I have to travel without her. It's a nice reminder that she's always in my pocket wherever I go.

I elaborate to her, "Okay we can film a video, just a short one though. I can't be late to Cristiano's office."

Her eyes light up to remind me, "Oh Cris! Don't forget to tell him I said hi and that I miss him. What time are we getting dinner with him later?"

"Oh no, sorry love. He told me he has to fly to Berlin after, but I'll tell him you said hi."

"Oh no! Really?"

"Unfortunately ye—"

"—Can I go with you to his office? Just to say hi. Before the meeting starts?"

"He would love to see you too I'm sure, but I need him with a clear mind. He's leading the negotiation."

"What about after? I can say hi, before he goes to the airport. Really quick."

I'm amused by her persistence. I continue, "Same thing. He needs to make his flight and stay focused. He told me his Berlin deal would be his biggest contract yet, which could lead to a future meeting for me with those executives."

She shoots me a sad expression because I know how much fun we have whenever we hang out with Cristiano. He accompanies us to all the best nightclubs and restaurants whenever I do business in Barcelona.

Bar finally seems content with the reality of the situation, but then follows up her disappointment with a look of intrigue. "Okay, gimme your phone. Let's film," she says enthusiastically.

I hand my phone over to Bar and she opens up the camera app, swiping until she gets to video mode. She presses record and sets it down on the coffee table at the ideal angle, with both of us in frame on the couch. She takes her hair tie from her wrist, pulls her hair back firmly with both hands, and ties her long blonde hair in a tight ponytail.

IN THE HOTEL LOBBY

The elevator doors open and out walks Adam into the lobby. He spots our driver near the hotel entrance gesturing goodbye to his fellow driver friend before re-entering the lobby's lounge area. Adam walks over and asks him, "Mr. Driver, did the hotel staff take all the luggage from the car?"

"Yes sir, they are behind you putting them on the carts now," the driver says while he points to hotel staff standing in the distance behind Adam. Adam swings his head around and sees two hotel porters loading two carts with a bunch of luggage. "Thank you. My boss will be down in about an hour to head over."

"Yes sir, no problem at all," the driver tells Adam.

Adam sprouts a smile as he appreciates being called "sir" for once. He heads over to the porters and greets them. Eager to personally deliver me my suit, he tells them that he himself can bring the luggage up. The two porters look a little confused and suspect a possible theft. One of them asks, "Sorry, but these are

all

your bags?"

"Yes, I packed all of these myself for my boss, his wife, and me."

"Then what's in this one?" He gets quizzed unexpectedly by one of the porters pointing at the top pocket of a yellow suitcase, which happens to belong to Bar.

"There's a portable massager and a microphone," Adam speaks with confidence, knowing he's right.

The porter then opens it up to find a thin purple vibrator and a thicker, long white vibrator with a bulbous tip.

"You called this a...'portable massager'?" asks one of the porters, confused why Adam didn't just call it a vibrator.

A defensive Adam shoots back, "Yes, it belongs to my boss' wife."

"I would hope so," one of them remarks.

At this point, the porters more or less believe the luggages belong to Adam but take advantage of the latter's naivety for their own entertainment.

One of them holds up Bar's thin purple vibrator, which looks like a thick permanent marker. "When does she use this one? In front of a camera?"

"She uses it when I'm unavailable to massage her myself," Adam replies with a passive-aggressive confidence built from the compliment Bar gave him earlier about his foot massage.

"And what kind of massager is so small?" the other porter presses further.

"It's small because it targets the trigger points," Adam replies before snatching Bar's vibrator from the porter's hand and putting it back into the suitcase. The porters laugh at Adam's unintended innuendo. Adam appears confused.

One of them continues, "And this white 'microphone,' she likes to sing when she travels?"

"Yeah I think her lips have touched that microphone many times," the other porter follows up.

The porters erupt in laughter, which not only confuses Adam again, but has gotten him frustrated with the fact that even lowly hotel staff is giving him a hard time.

In a rare showing of anger, Adam demands of them: "You need to give me these carts now or my boss will have you fired!"

From across the lobby, even the driver notices Adam's aggressive temperament. He waves to the porters in the distance to get their attention. They notice the driver waving his arms. The driver holds up a thumbs up to let them know that Adam is good to take the luggages. The porters, feeling like they've had enough fun, finally decide to hand over the two carts.

Unaware the driver cleared his name, Adam is convinced his demand made them relent. He generously tips the porters and reverts back to his friendly self, satisfied to have the final word. "I appreciate the questioning. It means you care about your job, about protecting people's belongings."

The porters happily take the tip and walk away content, never feeling threatened by Adam's rare showing of machismo. With a visible smile now in tow, Adam rolls the carts toward the elevator to head back up.

BACK IN THE PENTHOUSE SUITE

I hear the sound of a keycard going into the front door, followed by footsteps.

"Sir, ma'am, I'm back with the lug—...Oh!...Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I'm sorry! I didn't know you were—!" Adam panics and recoils at the sight.

Bar's mouth is fully engulfing my hard eight inch cock. She doesn't stop sucking on it while Adam frantically tries to avert his gaze and apologize. She continues to jerk the base of my cock with her right hand while her glossy lips suck on my glistening mushroom tip.

"Adam, it's okay you're fine," I try to tell him.

We're on the couch, and Bar is still going strong, not stopping to pay Adam's intrusion any attention. She's lying down on her stomach with knees bent and feet pointing up, her head buried in my lap while I slouch comfortably on the other end.

She has a white tank top on, made of super thin cotton, hugging her every curve—her breasts, her hips, her back. The outline of her champagne-colored bra is visible underneath. Her track pants are removed, tossed aside, as she sports her matching champagne-colored panties.

She continues her routine, still ignoring Adam, while I still struggle to get him stop freaking out, "Adam, calm down. Take a seat and relax."

Oblivious to my advice, and panicked that his disturbance would lose all the goodwill he's earned today with Bar and myself, Adam wildly fires back, "But sir! You knew I was coming back up, right?! You could've told me about this before I went downstairs, so I knew to wait outside, or return quietly and not disturb!"

I reply with a levelheaded calm, "Well we didn't tell you because we didn't know we were going to do this... Not until after you went downstairs. To be honest, we kind of forgot about you. And we definitely weren't going to text you once we started—"

Adam interrupts me, "—Oh god! I'm so sorry sir! I just don't like disturbing you, and especially Bar, in the middle of your—and-and I'm sorry, I saw without permission too!"

At this point, I'm open to saying just about anything to make sure I calm him down and most importantly, keep my erection firm. "Adam, you're welcome anytime to—" I stop mid-sentence as Bar suddenly decides to take in my cock full deep-throat, causing me to let out an unexpected groan of pleasure.

I try to finish my sentence, "Adam, from now on, you're welcome to watch us anytime without our permission." I exhale a string of heavy breaths as I feel my dick twitch from hitting the back of her throat. She doesn't gag and holds the deep-throat steady for a couple seconds.

Bar finally lifts her mouth off of my saliva-drenched dick, then sits up to tell me "Love, stop talking! I'm trying to get this perfect but you keep talking and messing it all up. How's Cris going to cum to this video if you and Adam keeping fucking talking?"

I stop to mentally ask myself, "Wait, we're making this video for Cris?" I feel a sudden burst of blood pump through every inch of my cock, reinvigorating my erection with a newfound consciousness.

Adam tries to apologize to Bar, "I'm so sorry ma'am. I didn't mean to interrupt you..."

Bar then stands up, stares Adam straight in the eyes, and launches all of her frustrations at him."GET OUT! YOU'RE FIRED! You are NOT a normal man! Our old assistant, he walked in on us too, but you know, he just sat down quietly and watched and masturbated in peace! But you, you freak out like a little boy! I might have sucked your tiny cock after if you stayed calm but—oh my god, fuck!—That would have been great for the video... Cris would cum twice to this if he saw me with two! Aghhhh! Adam why THE FUCK do you always ruin everything!!"

"Love, Adam didn't mean to—" I try to mitigate the situation.

"No! I'm DONE with him! He can leave!"

Well...Adam's annoyed Bar before, but this is the first time she's acted out so rashly toward him. I'm not sure whether to blame the long flight, Adam's incessant manic state, the interruption of her blowjob, or the fact that Adam (albeit inadvertently) ruined the video she was trying to make for Cris. It's probably a combination of all of it.

Adam, clearly distraught from Bar's verbal barrage, begins shivering uncontrollably with watery eyes. He naturally starts to retreat backwards. Scared that speaking any more will further incite Bar, he turns around and starts making his way slowly toward the penthouse exit, down the longest hallway of his life.

I yell at him, "Adam! Come back here! Right now!" It's one of the few times I've been loud to him.

He walks slowly back over to me and Bar with his head down, trying to wipe his eyes. I change my tone and gently tell him, "You're okay, c'mon now. Come here and help film more angles of me and Bar."

Reluctantly, Adam picks up my phone (which is still recording) off of the coffee table. Bar, not speaking a word to Adam, roughly grabs his arm and positions him behind the couch, behind me, so that he can film at an angle simulating something close to a first person point-of-view. I could've played cameraman myself but I think it best that Adam play a role here to keep his mind occupied on anything else.

Bar, still visibly annoyed, tries to collect herself. She takes a couple of deep breaths. Then she drops to her knees in between my legs and tries to settle in again. After one more long inhale and exhale, she gingerly resumes her blowjob...