On the Saturday evening, I had a shower about eight, shaved and applied lots of aftershave to my belly as well as my face before getting dressed. Deciding to be semi-formal, I wore a shirt and tie with slacks then sat down to wait. Just before nine, there was a gentle knock at the door and, on opening it, I was delighted at the way Esmeralda looked.
She had her coat over her arm to show off what she was wearing underneath. It seemed to be the same style as the black one that I'd seen before, but this was a shiny bottle green complemented by green tights and black high heeled boots. Her hair was piled on the top of her head and she had that look on her face which said "enjoy the view, it's good enough to eat".
We kissed on both cheeks as she walked in and I made drinks as she sat on the couch. I asked if she new the fish restaurant that I'd booked and she said that she did, but had never been there although she'd always wanted to. We started petting but, as I hadn't eaten since breakfast, I told her to slow down and that we had all night for love.
When we'd finished our drinks, I helped her on with her coat before putting on my jacket and leaving the apartment. The guards at the entrance wished us a cheerful buenos apetitos as we went out into the night. It was much colder than I'd thought, and was pleased that we didn't have more than a short walk.
The restaurant specialised in Galician seafood, which was brought in daily from the coast. We both had the same, mixed shellfish to start, followed by baked hake in a mouth-watering sauce, washed down with a bottle of dry white wine. To complete the meal, we had sorbet followed by coffee and anis dulce, a sweet Spanish liqueur.
It was after eleven by the time we got back to the apartment and she asked me for more coffee while she poured us another drink and took her boots off. We sat close together on the sofa and talked while our meal digested and we finished our drinks. Esmeralda then turned to me and asked if I would like to see some photographs she had with her.
When she went over to her bag and bent down to open it, I thought that I could see the dark band of stocking tops and I whistled at her. It was obvious that wolf-whistles were welcome as she looked over at me, smiled and then bent over a little further to improve my view. She came back with a large packet of photographs and lay across my lap, taking them out and holding them so that we could both see them.
The early ones were of her at the beach, wearing a very brief thong that was pulled so tight into her crotch that I could clearly see the outline of her pussy lips. They'd been taken from all angles, including one which look as though she'd been standing with her feet each side of the photographer's head. Feeling a pang of jealousy, I asked if her boyfriend had taken them.
She laughed and said no, the pictures I had taken were private, and that these had been taken by one of her girlfriends when they'd been on holiday together the previous summer. The next photograph caused me to whistle again and she asked if I liked the look of her girlfriend. It was a three quarter view with the head turned in profile. She was statuesque, with a straight back, large firm tits, a flat belly and a mane of flaming red hair. Like Esmeralda, she too was only wearing a thong which, from the way it was cutting into her hips, was also pulled up as tight as possible.
Esmeralda said that her friend's name was Pilar, that they went to University together and shared a bed sitter here in Madrid. There were a few more pictures of Pilar and then one of them sitting back to back on a rock. The final picture was of them standing facing each other. Their noses and lips were just touching, as were their nipples and bellies, and they rested their hands on each other's hips. It was one of the most erotic photographs that I'd ever seen.
During this time, my free hand had started at her tits, worked its way down her belly and was now stroking that glorious flesh on her thighs, just above her stocking tops. I felt her legs open a little so I slipped my hand between them and slowly up. Her panties were soaking, and my fingers traced the outline of her pussy lips.
She put the photographs down and slipped off her panties. She took off my tie and shirt, then put her arms round my neck and kissed me while I continued to stroke her. I slipped two fingers into her cunt and rubbed her clit with my thumb while she rocked her hips against my hand and sucked my tongue into her mouth. As we speeded up, all was in unison, her sucking and rocking and my stroking and finger-fucking. Faster and faster until she broke her mouth away from me and turned to bite into my shoulder as she moaned and came.
I continued to gently stroke her while she came down from her orgasmic high, just shuddering occasionally as she slipped into smaller, lighter ecstasies. My fingers were dripping as I finally pulled them out of her. I breathed in the heady scent as I ran them under my nose, and then ran them over her lips. She opened her eyes and looked at me as she slowly parted her lips and drew my cunt juice covered fingers into her mouth.
She reached down and started to stroke herself while she continued to lick and suck at my fingers, then brought her fingers to my mouth and started to run them round my lips. I opened them and, for the first time, tasted her juices. I was not disappointed, for the taste was as good as I'd imagined from her smell.
