FUCKING HIGH - Story

Sexy blonde fucks a stranger on the rooftop terrace

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I didn’t miss the way they looked at each other. I would have been blind if I’d missed those flirty glances. My pretty, blond wife, Sicilia, always got giggly when she developed a new crush, and European guys were always her weakness. Andreas fit the mold—young, fit, dark haired, handsome. And interested. Like I said, I didn’t miss their looks. We’d arrived in Barcelona in the late afternoon. The flight from New York was direct, but long, and we ended up grabbing an early dinner and crashing. That’s when we first met Andreas, although we never actually met him. He was having dinner in the hotel restaurant as well, eating alone. I sat with my back to him, but could make out his reflection in the polished, white marble wall. And of course, I could see the way Sicilia kept looking past me, smiling, batting her lashes. “You like him, don’t you?” I asked. Sicilia blushed, meeting my eyes. “Are...

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you mad?” “Am I ever?” I asked. “Sometimes.” When she seemed to give more than her body, when the man was too close, when, so lost in the moment, she could slip, and suddenly make me feel like it wasn’t about us but just about her. She ran her finger along the base of her wine glass. “Are you jealous?” I felt a twinge in my gut. “Not yet.” Sicilia smiled. “We’re going to have to do something about that.” Something about that came the next day. Jetlagged, we’d slept in, grabbed a late breakfast, and did a little sightseeing. It was great to get away from our busy lives in New York, but that was only part of the reason we were here. We ran into the Italian back at the hotel, this time sitting on the rooftop veranda.…

Read all about the wonderful author: Kenny Wright