1
Nestling against the rocky coastline of the Costa Brava, with its beaches and bays, and the white-painted walls of the community's oldest buildings stark against an azure sky, the village had much to offer visitors from near and far. The locals traded on its popularity, many earning their livings from seasonal work, others using craft skills deployed to make items that were then traded in tourist markets. And then, like the Valenti family, they used skills that lifted them out of groups that many thought of as labourers.
'I'm not one of those,' Pablo muttered as his small commercial vehicle with its logo 'Trabajos de Carpinteria y Madera -- Valenti', painted on the sides was manoeuvred into the loading bay of his property set off a quiet side street of the village. From its balcony, and his small living quarters, he could look out over the pantile rooftops and out over the sea.
It was a batchelor's home and workspace and no one bothered him there, or very few, and he wanted it that way. It was also the lovenest that the woman in his life sometimes visited and discretion of paramount importance at such times, be they during the day or more often late into the night.
Lucia Picot, or 'lusty Lucia' as he had soon fallen into thinking of her, had been in his life for little more than six months. The arrangement they had was spontaneous and flexible, and it only needed a phone call, by either of them, to fan it into a raging heat once more. A young widow's weeds had been put away, a silver crucifix was still seen to be worn and nestling in her deep cleavage, the woman's fulsome figure scarcely kept from his notice, whatever she chose to wear. Lucia dressed modestly but he soon learned what lay underneath her clothes and that was more than warm flesh. A passionate spirit lived there too, within a shapely body, broad hips, and fleshy thighs; her lustrous black hair was like a mane that tumbled down each side of her serene face.
A smile was never far away and they had discovered deepening affection for one another, but that was never the primary reason that provoked either of them to seek the other out. Lucia was a demon in bed; sex with her was off the scale in pleasure and for its intensity.
'You're unbelievable!' she would cry out whenever they reached the peak. He had begun to believe it. She made him do so in her passionate and inexhaustible ways; she coaxed him to persist in that like no other woman before her. 'You'll want to do this with me all day and all night...all week... if I let you!'
There was no turning back from their meeting at a local festival during the height of summer. Persuading Lucia to take part in an invitation folk dance had opened the floodgates; to endless reels and steps, swirling skirts and stamps of feet, to laughter and the meeting of a lingering look that went way beyond what was expected of it.
The chance of having a drink and an al fresco meal under the awnings set out in the town square, and its multitude of lights, had been passed up. They hadn't made it. His embrace to persuade her to linger, just a while longer, had failed to delay the moment of a first kiss; the poke of his tongue past her parted lips and her answering sucks upon it. They were so suggestive, seducing, and arousing before they became an irrepressible admission that they wanted to take each other to bed, and hell with the knowledge they had only just met.
They had writhed naked in clammy nakedness on her bed, the linen crisp and cool against their enervated skins.
'Whoever said it should happen?' she had gasped in the admission that she had succumbed to her raging lust for him. He was a strong guy, muscled in his arms and legs, broad-chested, and the possessor of a tool that she had grasped expertly as it was tugged from his briefs, straining and so darned hard on seeing her fleshy nakedness. Lucia had held his shaven head as she guided his sucking lips to her breasts and he'd become lost in her fleshy heat.
It happened; nothing had been planned. They had known that it would have to happen to tamp down the flames of continuing and seemingly uncontrollable lust that seeing each other naked had aroused.
From that night on, wasted and spent, her pussy reamed out by his prick, Lucia had made him feel that she couldn't get enough of him, or it; they couldn't keep away or their hands off each other. She had said she didn't believe in it, that the stars had ordained that it should be so but his kisses and caresses had led her to massage his hard cock, through his jeans, until they had gotten back to Lucia's place.
'How have you gotten me into doing this?' she had gasped, her arms wrapped around his neck and exulting in his ways, their kisses slow, soft, and even romantic; their tongues soon gliding around their lover's mouth, lips closing and sucking as that wet flesh flickered in and out, their saliva interchanged. She said that she had felt as if she was floating, aroused to an unbearable pitch that was painful; that had her tummy muscles tensing and easing as if they were already wrapped around his magnificent tool.
'If it's like this, what I'm feeling when I kiss you...what will I become when you're in me?'
He had felt as if he was floating...was gliding on a raging wind of lust and uncommon passion, on his desire for her as Lucia had fucked his mouth with her tongue, swirled and sucked, darted in and out; all the while her body pressed against him and her hands caressing and keeping him so hard against her body.
He had gently sucked her tongue, and in return she slowly, easily, had fucked his mouth, giving him all the tongue he could want. Passion had mingled with tenderness.
Everything about her, what they did, had become irresistible and had to be known of and satisfied to its only, natural, conclusion.
He would be with her as soon as it was possible and he had cleaned off the grime of his working day.
2
She had soon revealed what his caresses and their kisses had aroused in her that first time, the plans for the evening turned over instantly when Lucia reamed out his mouth with her agile tongue as his fingers lifted the skirt of her dress and caressed the smooth skin of her thighs before he slid a hand over her soft flesh, the scent of her hair in his nostrils as he slid a middle finger between her butt cheeks and pricked the base of her spine, thrusting his hips forward to remind Lucia how hard she had made him feel.
Nibbling on his earlobe she had breathed hotly, 'Forget everything else and let's go back to my place. We finish what you've started.'
And they had done so, gone at each other like rutting beasts; their calls to each other filling the hallway of her small house that was sandwiched among its neihbours on the steps leading up from the shore road, colourful facades distinguishing them from their neighbours. They'd tugged off the other's clothes in a frenzy and kissed passionately as they did so before he'd slammed into her once more. She had asked that he fucked her in long fast strokes. He'd needed no encouragement from the fleshy beauty who was in his arms and he had done it hard, pistoning into her as the bed creaked and she shouted obscenities in his ear until he had filled her with bolts of his cum, Lucia's warmth engulfing him, smaller tremors provoking her to convulse and keep him in her.
