The Spaniard in Shanghai

It is so hot here in Shanghai. I mean as soon as you walk out the door of the hotel and leave the beautiful free air conditioning behind, it’s melt the lipstick off your lips, hot! (Only not my lipstick. I buy the stuff you can’t even buy outside the US because it has so many chemicals that it never comes off- even after a long night of kissing- I can wake up looking fabulous with this stuff! My lips will eventually fall off, but who cares, I look good!!) Anyway, the heat is stifling, and the air is so thick I can feel my shirt start to cling to my skin, and perspiration bead up on my forehead. It’s sensual really, feeling the air touching you, the dampness on your skin, the heat engulfing you completely as you walk down the street.

I leave the hotel to wander around, the VPN on my phone turned on so I can keep chatting with the cute guy I matched with this morning on Tinder. He is Spanish and lives in Shanghai now teaching at a hospitality college. We’ve been having fun flirting and I only have two nights left in the city, so I am pretty sure I’ll meet him this evening. One of his first messages to me this morning said, “Why don’t we meet tonight!?”

I spend the afternoon walking in the heat, taking pictures, and being amazed at all the people everywhere. This is my first Asian city, and it’s one of the biggest. I love the feeling of being lost and alone in a place where no one is like me, where I can sit and watch people for hours, I can shop like crazy, (if I didn’t have just one medium sized suitcase for this whole year of traveling) and I can’t understand a thing. It’s disconcerting and wonderful all that the same time.

I head back to the hotel just in time to change, and meet Miguel in the hotel lobby bar. I have a glass of wine while I wait, though alcohol makes me warmer, and even with the air conditioning, it’s sultry here. I indulge in more people watching until he walks in the door. He is not tall, barely as tall as me, but his smile is great! It’s wide open and engaging. His dark eyes crinkle when he smiles. He’s handsome. I think to myself, “This is going to be fun!”

We hop in a cab and go to anther part of town. It has smaller buildings, less people, and feels more European. We go down a flight of stairs to a little basement restaurant, and now it really feels like Europe, because it’s a Spanish wine and tapas bar! How fun! Everything is deep red or forest green, the wait staff is all in crisp white long sleeve shirts, and black pants with long black aprons. There are wine shelves covering almost all the walls, and flamenco music plays over the sound system. We quickly decide to have a delicious plate of meat and cheese and drink a bottle of amazing red wine. The chatter back and forth flows so easily, slipping from English to Spanish and back again as we flirt outrageously. I was right, this IS fun.

We leave there, and he takes my hand, then gives me this mischievous grin as we walk to another little place he knows. It’s a tiny jazz bar with amazing garden seating, all twinkle lights, candles, and live music on a platform in the corner. We snuggle into a cushy love seat, under the branches of a large tropical tree, the branches swaying slightly in the evening breeze that has blessedly popped up, and order a few cocktails. We just keep on talking. It is so easy to talk to him, and before long, his hand is on my thigh, he is touching my arm, my hand, and then he reaches up and pushes my hair over my ear. Soon there is a “look” or two passing between us. When he finally leans in for a kiss, it is just right, not lingering too long, but definitely carrying the promise of more.

Once the “seal is broken,” and well, uhh, there may have been a few more cocktails involved, and the kissing is happening more and more often, while the talking is happening less and less, he asks finally, “Should we get the bill, and… [nods head towards the exit]?”

In the taxi on the way back to my hotel, we are making out like school kids. It’s all tongues, and touching, and hands, and heavy breathing. I start to giggle when I see the driver is having a hard time watching the road, it’s like every movie taxi- sex scene you’ve ever watched. We even get hot and heavy in the elevator! Jumping apart, stereotypically, when the floor bell dings.

We get in the room, quickly turn on the AC, strip down, and hop in the shower. There is no way we are going to be naked together after all that heat, without a shower first, plus showers are sexy. The bathroom has a wall of windows, looking directly into the room, and right across the bed to the windows looking over the city with all the amazing city lights and the view from the 31st floor. The shower is one of those fancy rainfall shower heads, so the water is cascading over us so softly, I could stay in here all night! We start by soaping each other up, getting nice and close, running our hands all over each another’s body. He is getting so hard, as I stroke him with my soapy hands. He turns me around and pushes me up against the wall, grinding into me, reaching around in front of me to pinch my nipples. This is going to have to go to the bedroom soon.

We dry off, open a bottle of water, and a small bottle of wine from the mini-fridge, lay on the bed and start kissing again. He reaches his hand down to touch me, and after all that excitement in the shower, he brings me to the brink very quickly, before pushing his fingers deep inside and pushing me over the edge. Good Lord!

A little water, a little more wine, and we are at it again, but now, I notice that he is no longer hard. He is still just as enthusiastic as before, but he is not having much luck on his end. He tells me, “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Let me keep taking care of you.” Hmm, I am never one to refuse an orgasm so I slide down the headboard as he goes down on me, using his tongue and fingers to bring me to climax one more time.

We lay there, spent, letting the air conditioning cool the sweat and heat from our bodies, our legs still entangled and our hands connected in the middle of the bed. He still hasn’t come, and it doesn’t look promising that he is going to be able to any time soon. I don’t want to bring it up, but he is pretty open about it. “Sorry about this, don’t think I am not enjoying myself, because I am very much.” Well, ok then.

Once we are cooled off, we get closer, and curl up spooned together, with him on the outside. Before long, his long fingers are caressing my skin again, and he reaches around in front of me. I can’t believe it, but I am almost instantly hot for him again. I wonder to myself if a change of scenery might help him out a bit, so I suggest we go to the window. The view is amazing, and there is sort of a “shelf” we could lay on… he grabs a pillow, and helps me maneuver up onto the shelf. It’s like laying down on top of the world, the glass of the window the only thing between me and the lights of the city sparkling below. Incredible.

Instead of climbing up with me, he stands next to me, leans down and begins kissing me. He starts slowly, giving us both a chance to work ourselves back up to full speed. I reach down to touch him, and there is still no reaction. He gently moves my hand to my own heat, and keeps caressing my body. His movements are slow, methodical, gentle, and then all of a sudden insistent and so heated, it is like a tidal wave crashing through my body. I cannot help but arch up against his hand, pushing against him as I ride the waves of orgasm yet again!

He grins, and asks, “Como fue, amorcito?” It was great! We stagger back to the bed, and pull the covers over us.  I rest my head on his shoulder and throw my leg across his front, and we lay still and let our breathing come back down to normal, or should I say, let MY breathing come back down to normal. We fall asleep for a short while, before he begins to stir. He has to work early tomorrow, and needs to go back home to get a few hours of real sleep before the day begins.

I stretch out in the bed, still naked but totally comfortable, relaxing, easing my muscles, feeling all the places I am tight or loose, while I watch him get dressed. He comes to the bed, caresses my face, kisses me good-bye, and says, “That was amazing. I am glad we met. Buen viaje, Bella.” Then he left, looking back to grin at me just once more before he walked out the door.

I promise you, I slept great that night and woke up late the next morning, relaxed and ready for a new day of adventure.

Have you ever had sex with a Spaniard? Have you ever encountered a one-night stand where you didn’t actually have intercourse but it was still.. Wow? Tell us about it in the comments!

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