Linda spent the afternoon in the narrow winding lanes of Raval, Barcelona's red light district. Returning to the hotel--it actually had the look of an old private residence--she carried several designer bags filled with toys. And she had a tremendous fire in her loins, a fire she blamed on her ex-lover. Leaving her goodies on her bed in her room, Linda slipped down the hall to the suite where Brad and Nina stayed.
It was after 7:00 in the evening and she knew from what they had said downstairs that Señor Adams could be found in his room. Knocking gently, she waited. No answer came and she knocked harder. Again, no one came to the door. Putting an ear to the door, she heard the steady sound of someone snoring. "Bastard," she muttered angrily. Brad Adams was the soundest sleeper she knew. Trying the door, she found it locked.
In a rage, she headed back downstairs, her short red skirt swishing against her hips. In less than twenty minutes, Linda stood back outside Brad's room, the taste of the Spanish clerk's cum in her mouth. After a demonstration of her ability to deep throat his inadequate cock, inadequate in comparison to Brad's throbbing muscle, the clerk had happily gave her Mr. Adam's key. In addition to the key, she carried one bag of toy's from her Spanish red light run.
The big man lay sprawled across the bed. His pants were flung aside. She noticed that he hadn't bothered to wear shorts underneath them. It looked like he had showered and fallen into the bed. Too many late nights fucking Nina, she thought bitterly. And as she stared at his erect cock, a familiar tickle of desire began to grow deep within her. Damn, she thought. The man even sleeps with a hard on. Taking out several sets of soft cuff shackles, she gently locked each wrist to a bed post. A strong man, no doubt with work he might free himself. But for the moment, she thought, as she next locked his legs to the posts, this deep sleeping motherfucker is mine. Carefully, using a delicate multi-hued Spanish silk scarf, she blindfolded her man.
Slipping out of her minuscule skirt and pulling off her matching top, she slipped off her thong. It carried an exotic blend of perfume and her own natural scent. She then climbed on top of him and began to lick his nipples. When he opened his mouth and began to shout, she casually stuffed the thong into his mouth, allowing it to act as an informal gag.
