An American Student in Spain

The pilot came on the intercom and informed us passengers that we were some forty minutes from landing, the weather was blah, blah, blah and thank you for flying XYZ Airlines. My sleepiness stopped me from paying attention to almost everything that he had said.

It had been a long and boring flight, filled with me mostly sleeping and gawking at the flight attendants and thinking about the 'Mile High Club'.

I slid open my window and looked out upon the bank of clouds and began to genuflect on my recent spat of good luck.

I had been chosen out of hundreds, nay, thousands of American college students from all over the country to travel to Spain and have an internship with a major shipping cartel in Cartagena. My major was International Relations and Business, with a minor in European Studies. I was elated when I received the news that I would be spending the summer of my Junior year and the first semester of my Senior year studying abroad, living and working for the most connected and sought after company in the whole of Europe and Spain. My meal ticket was punched with this on my resume!

My parents, on the other hand, weren't as pleased. Worry warts, some would say, but genuinely concerned with their only child. We were the only family that was left after the death of my grandfather three years ago, and we were very close. My mother wailed at the airport and my dad choked back tears. I stole a last look back at them before I entered the tunnel towards the plane. I really favored my father; he was about an inch or two shorter than me and thin. My mother was very pretty; she had long blonde hair and was still very athletic. They are great folks, and I would definitely miss them these next several months.

I stretched long and hard and looked around the cabin. Full, with mostly everyone sleeping, reading books or watching the in-cabin movie.

Now is the time that I tell you about my self. I'll describe how I am tall, muscular, blonde haired blue eyed All-American male. Great athlete, Prom King, bedded down all of the ladies with my 12 inch cock that is round as a coke can...but I can't. Y'see, I am just a normal guy. I stand about 5'9"; weigh in at a whopping 155lbs, ashy blonde hair, green eyes. Never the athlete in high school, but I took up running seriously in college, I have even ran in a few charity races, etc... My build, due to my nightly 10-15 mile run is wiry, I am ripped, and in fantastic shape. I can't say that I am lacking in the size department between my legs, probably just slightly above average, maybe 6" erect, I don't know. I've never had the wherewithal to break out a ruler when I had wood.

I also am not a ladies man. In high school, I went all the way through without a girlfriend; I was all of the hot girls' best buddy. Oh, I had my crushes, mind you, just never lucky enough to act out on them. I lost my virginity in my freshman year of college, and it was a disaster. I had no idea what I was doing; I shot my load in under 10 seconds and couldn't get it back up again. I never saw her again. Since then, a total of two sexual experiences, and I have a girl who has a crush on me and she loves to give blow-jobs. Lots of them. Of course, I wouldn't be caught dead with her in public since she is about 70lbs overweight, but hey! She sneaks to my room, sucks me off, and when the coast is clear, I boot her out.

"Place your chairs in the upright positions and fasten your seat belts, we will land in two minutes!" A long legged, blond Spanish flight attendant was repeating over and over again as she made her way up the aisles.

I became extremely nervous as I prepared to meet my host family as I made my way off of the plane.

Miguel Carbajal was a respected figure in Cartagena; he was CEO/President of the company that I would be working for the next eight months. I had seen pictures of him and instantly recognized him standing to the side, holding a sign with 'Benjamin Lord' in big block letters on it. That's me, Ben.

He gripped my hand firmly and shook it with intensity as I returned his grip.

"Ah," He said in accented English, "I like a man with a strong, firm grip! Come, let us collect your things and make haste!"

Luckily for me, I am fluent in Spanish and knew that would make life easier for me.

"Are you by yourself?" I asked him.

He paused and looked at me, with a raised eyebrow and a wide grin.

"Your grasp of my language is good, young Ben. The rest of the family is awaiting us at my villa."

Senor Carbajal had a servant there with him that collected my bags and loaded them into the trunk of his Rolls Royce and whisked us away.

I was speechless as we drove through the city, looking at all of the sights and taking them in. Senor Carbajal and I chatted about the city and the position that I would hold while we passed the time. Soon, we came upon a breathtakingly large gated villa that looked out upon the port.

The auto came to a halt in front of the large main doors and a bustle of activity was taking place, one person opened the door for us, another took my bags and whisked them away. A slight, friendly faced lady in a starched light blue uniform with an apron came to me, swept me into her arms and bussed me on either cheek.

"Senor Lord, we are so happy to finally meet you, I am Lourdes, anything you need, you tell me!"

Lourdes was the Head Servant at the Carbajal home, in her late 40's I would guess, very short, and features that told me that when she was my age, she was probably a knock-out.

"I will show you to your room, come!" Lourdes grabbed my hand.

"Dinner will be in 45 minutes, Senor Lord." Senor Carbajal announced to me.

"Please, Senor, call me Ben." I begged of him.

"Very well, Ben, I am Miguel!" and away he went.

I followed Lourdes for what seemed like an eternity. The house was enormous, and very old it seemed. The Roman influence of the ancient city was very apparent in the layout and design of the villa. Lourdes was chatting away with me the whole time and I was quite enamored of her. She was very pleasant.

"Senor Ben, your room."

It looked like a penthouse suite in a 5 star hotel. The room consisted of actually several rooms. The main area was a study/library with volumes and volumes of books lining the shelves, to the left was a patio that looked out upon a terraced deck that had a huge swimming pool. Beyond that was a wrought iron fence that shielded a drop off down to the water. Spectacular view. On the other side of the room was a door that led into the bedroom suite with a huge, king sized four poster bed, an adjoining door led into an oversized master bathroom with a massive tub and separate shower. The final room in this array was a smaller room equipped with workout machines, treadmills, etc... All of the floors were done in exquisite marble and ornate tapestries and statues filled all of the rooms.

"Wow!" I whistled and looked at Lourdes. "Amazing."

I wandered out onto the terrace as inside, Lourdes was putting away all of my clothes, jabbering away. My breath went away as I noticed a young lady laying out in a wee little black bikini. I ducked behind the curtain, ashamed and excited all at the same time. I felt my face flush and could feel the heat on my neck and cheeks. I really shouldn't look. Fuck it, I thought, as I peeked down at the vision lying down below me.

She was young; it appeared, lying on her stomach with her head facing away from me. It looked like a piece of dental floss in her ass as the bottoms were just a string going into her ample, bronzed butt cheeks and one running low across her hips and attached by a clasp of some sort. Her bra top was unfastened. Who would want tan lines? I chuckled to myself. I could feel myself getting a hard-on just looking at this girl. Deep brown skin, round butt, long hair that appeared to be colored a light shade of brown.

"You have seen Estelle." A voice from behind me.

I nearly shrieked as I jumped back and almost ran over Lourdes. I was completely embarrassed as I was caught red-handed.

"I, uh, was um..." I stammered, momentarily forgetting my Spanish.

"She is the Senor's beloved daughter." Lourdes laughed at me, peering over the balcony at Estelle. "She is very beautiful, and quite a handful. The Master is very protective of her."

"I was just, uh, looking at the view, I mean, uh. Yeah. She is pretty." I said, redder than ever.

Lourdes leaned back over the balcony and yelled to Estelle to prepare for dinner. Estelle looked up at us, her sunglasses lowered and waved.

Lourdes announced to me that the Carbajal's dress for dinner and that Senor Carbajal had taken the liberty to have his tailors ready a dinner jacket and trousers for me.

Just as she was about to walk out of the door, Lourdes turned to look at me.

"Estelle is much sought after, Senor Ben," Lourdes told me, "She also knows this. She will try to drive you crazy." Lourdes gave me a smirk, "Oh, and if you need to, Senor Ben, you should take care of that before you come down to the repast!" With a grin, she turned and closed the door behind her.

I looked down at the tent that had formed in my pants.

I did exactly what Lourdes had instructed me to do while I took a much needed shower. I really wanted to skip the meal, the plane trip had taken alot out of me, but I was just as hungry as tired, and I wanted to meet Estelle. I slipped into the suit that Senor Carbajal had provided for me, and surprisingly, it fit rather well. I checked myself out in the mirror.

"Go get 'em, killer!" I said to my reflection before I bounded down the stairs towards the wonderful smell of the food, hoping not to get lost in this mansion.

I made my way to the grand dining room rather easily, getting more and more hungry with each step closer that I got.

"Hello, young man!" Miguel's voice boomed in the large room, echoing off of the walls. "I trust that you brought your appetite!"

He walked towards me, rather regal looking in his dark dinner jacket and crisp, pleated tan slacks. He was a little taller than me, had me by I would guess about 50lbs, but not at all fat. His close cropped, light brown hair was speckled with gray, and his full mustache was much the same way.

He and I both became involved in deep conversation as a butler brought us a pre-dinner cocktail.

"The women," Miguel said, "Are late as usual."

Just at that time, the door opened and two breathtakingly gorgeous women entered the room. I recognized the younger, shorter female as Estelle, Miguel's daughter. From up close like this, she reminded me of Vida Guerra. The other one must be his wife, who, if you could believe it, looked like a carbon copy of Catherine Zeta Jones. Estelle was absolutely beautiful; she was wearing a pale yellow dress that highlighted her bronze skin. The dress plunged down her front, revealing some ample cleavage; she had to be a C+ cup. She did not have on a bra, I could see, as her nipples were slightly poking through her dress, no sag whatsoever. The dress came down to just above her knees, her legs were bare, and she had on low-heeled sandals that showed her very pretty feet. I am a foot man, and these were some stunning toes. Very lickable. Estelle's long, light brown hair was lying loose around her shoulders and came down to the middle of her back, just hiding her bare back. The dress was belted at the waist, showing off some nice curves, and an ass that was fat and round.

Her mother was equally as stunning, much taller than Estelle, and quite dark, very Cuban-esque, I would have guessed. Her dark, wavy hair cascaded down to her shoulder blades; her dress clung to her frame, accentuating her lithe figure. She definitely had a presence that filled the room. I couldn't tell about her chest, because her dress was bunched in the front, but I would guess about a B cup. The dress that she was wearing stopped at her knees, revealing a firm pair of muscular calves; she wore a pair of sandals that tied around her ankles. Like her daughter, her feet were also just perfect, long slim toes that were capped by a French pedicure. I am not a big fan of the French manicure/pedicure, but both of these girls pulled it off very well.

I tried not to ogle this gorgeous pair as out of the corner of my eyes I noticed Miguel looking at me.

"Hello Senora," I stepped forward, offering my hand to Miguel's wife, "I am Ben Lord, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

The lovely lady took my hand and I bowed slightly and gave her a swift kiss on her fingers.

"The pleasure is mine, Senor Lord, I am Gabriella." She cooed at me, "Such a gentleman, and so handsome! Don't you agree, Estelle?"

Estelle just smiled and lowered her eyes. I couldn't believe this, I was charming?!?

"Miguel, shall we eat?" Gabriella motioned for us to sit. Miguel sat at the head of the table, Gabriella to his left, I sat on his right, and Estelle at her mother's side, at a slight angle to me.

The dinner was phenomenal. We enjoyed sautéed scallops as an appetizer, followed by a wonderful Beef Medallion with Béarnaise Sauce and ended with coconut flan for dessert. The Carbajals' servants hustled to and fro, clearing plates as we finished and filling drinks. I felt like royalty.

My problem was, I couldn't keep my eyes off of Estelle. Her presence burned at me, I was having trouble concentrating, it was all that I could do to keep myself in the conversation that we were having. Oh, and she knew it, too. She was flirting with me, or so I thought, twirling her hair in her fingers and laughing at my dumb jokes. I was mesmerized. I noticed that from the angle that I was sitting at, I could see the side of Estelle's plump breasts where her tits met the upper part of her stomach whenever she reached forward for her drink. Her eyes caught mine at one point, and she grinned devilishly as she looked down at her own chest, realizing what I was looking at.

Any excitement that I felt was quelled when I looked at Miguel's ham-hock sized hands and visualized them wrapped around my throat, choking the life from me.

"You must be very tired from your long journey, Ben." Gabriella said, "Retire now, and we will show you all that the city has to offer tomorrow!"

The next few days were filled with activity, as I had to become acquainted with Miguel's company and my position within, and get enrolled at Cartagena University, the sister school to mine in the states.

I had spent alot of time with Gabriella and Estelle, and Estelle was driving me nuts. I truly believe that I masturbated more times thinking about her in the four days that I had been here than in all of my 22 years! Every day her shorts would get shorter, her tops tighter. When she would speak to me, she would reach out and touch my arm. The electricity would raise the hair on the back of my neck, and cause the blood to flow to my cock. I would always think about Miguel, though, and my penis would go back into hibernation.

One evening, after a particularly long and arduous run through the hills of Cartagena, I made my way through the rear entry gate and along the walk to the back stairwell to my suite. I stopped cold. Right before my eyes was Estelle, sitting on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. She had on the same black string bikini as when I had first seen her. The bottoms anyway.

I stole a quick glance around me to make sure that I couldn't be seen. After reassuring myself, I hunkered down behind the bushes that surrounded the pool area and watched.

Estelle was kicking her legs back and forth lazily in the shallow water, listening to a popular local band on her radio. Just then, she slid off the side and swam back and forth across the width of the pool. She switched over to the backstroke, her breasts jutting out of the water, pointing up to the God in Heaven that made this wonderful creature. Her tits were huge, all natural. Estelle's flat belly played up their size, her nipples, the size of kernels of corn, were stiff and standing straight up surrounded by a deep pink areola.

I could not believe this at all. My cock was throbbing, and I unleashed it from my nylon running shorts and began to stroke it slowly with my right hand. I could feel my balls boiling and knew that I was going to shoot off any second now; I stopped my jerking off and gripped the base of my penis with all of my might in order to stop my orgasm. After the storm had subsided, I slowly began to squeeze and release my swollen member in my hand, moving my hand up and down my shaft, watching Estelle move about the pool. She tortured me for many minutes, but, then I started to notice a pattern. It seemed like she would steal little glances towards the house. I assumed that she was checking for any of the servants that may be nearby. But, no, I had left the light on in my outer room and she was looking up at my balcony! Estelle was trying to get my attention! Did she want to put on a show for me? I wasn't sure, but that is what it seemed like.

Estelle played and splashed in the pool for a few more moments and got out, fastened her top back on and left, padding barefoot towards the house. Her ample ass just swayed back and forth as she walked. I couldn't hold it any more...

"Uhhh," I bit my lip to stifle my groan, "Oh yeah!" I moaned through clenched teeth. An orgasm gripped me like a wave; I shot a stream of pearly white semen in an arc that landed on the pool deck.

Up ahead, Estelle stopped.

"Oh, shit," I thought to myself, "If she sees me, I am dead." My cock hadn't stopped spewing spunk, and now I was truly scared that she would see me. Estelle had paused briefly, as if she had heard something, and after what seemed like an eternity, she left. I stood up, cock hanging out of my shorts, nut-butter all over my hands, stupid grin on my face.

Over the course of the next few months, I would sometimes spy on Estelle as she laid out by the pool, I never again caught her like I had done that previous evening, unfortunately, I wanted her bad, but I also had a very healthy respect for Miguel, who was becoming very much like a father to me. He would always call me 'Hijo Blanco' or 'White Son'. It was definitely a whirlwind at his company, and I was doing much, much more than any intern ever would. Miguel trusted me, and I him.

It seemed that almost every night, some horny teenaged boy would come calling for Estelle. She had many suitors, and she was gone quite a bit with them, and fuck yeah, I was jealous, thinking of some young boy pawing her tits, and touching her ripe ass. Dammit! I was falling for her.

Lourdes was my confidante, and I told her everything, well, except for the jerking off stuff.

I was in the shower whilst Lourdes was in the master bedroom putting away my clothes. The bathroom door was half open, and she and I were talking over the sound of the water's spray, much like we had done on many, many previous evenings.

"You should tell her, Senor Ben." Lourdes would tell me. She knew that I wanted Estelle even before I did. She was always one or two steps ahead of me, giving sage advice, or tidbits of information that may come in handy sometime in the future.

"Lourdes, she is WAY out of my league." Was my reply, "She has the finest lads in the cities and surrounding country trying to win her hand, how could I compete? Besides, Miguel is very protective of her. He would kill me!"

"Senor Carbajal thinks that all of these punks that come here are just that, punks!" Lourdes said. "Besides, he believes that it is time for her to be married, she is 18 and done with her schooling, he wants her to find a good boy, one like you!"

Something about the tone of her voice made me stop in my tracks; I flung the shower door open. Lourdes was standing in the bathroom, putting towels away. I was buck naked and didn't care that the maid of the house was staring at my schlong.