Barcelona

“Come on C it will be fun,” said Lorna to her best friend Christine, “and you need a laugh after your divorce.”

 

Christine sighed, it had been a tough year and it was horrible to think what had started as an amicable divorce from her husband of 10 years had turned into a bitter battle with some very nasty insults being thrown by both parties.

 

“OK” said Christine, “let’s go to Barcelona,” and then a little more quietly, “but don’t go taking this as an opportunity to try to get me to convert.”

 

Lorna giggled and stuck out her tongue, wiggling the stud which she claimed sent her female partners wild, as she said, “you never know you might enjoy it.”

 

The pair of them had been friends from school and grown up together sharing triumphs and disasters over the years. Christine had been there for Lorna when she came out to her parents as a lesbian and her father had shunned her as Lorna was there for Christine when she got married to Mark, even agreeing to be her bridesmaid. They had both joined Mulholland’s, a huge consultancy firm, on leaving university and clawed their way slowly up the corporate ladder and stayed close friends. When Christine’s marriage fell apart, Lorna helped her weather the storm and pick up the pieces of her life.

 

At 35 both women had kept themselves in good condition, both taking full advantage of the firm’s excellent fitness facilities on a daily basis. Christine was the taller of the pair standing 5”8” and a well defined 36-26-34 with short dark bobbed hair framing her face. Lorna was nearly 4 inches shorter with what she described as dirty blonde hair cut in a spiky bob. Sharing the same stats as Christine, Lorna, because of her shorter stature, had more of a curved figure. This was further accentuated by the fact she was a d cup compared to Christine’s b, a fact she never failed to remind Christine of.

 

Two weeks later after checking into British Airways club class for the Friday evening late flight, the two women clinked glasses and Lorna said, “here’s to what happens in Barcelona stays in Barcelona.”

 

“I just want to relax and enjoy myself,” Christine said, so relieved she had such a great friend in Lorna.

 

“To see you smile would make it a great weekend,” said Lorna as she outlined the arrangements she had made for the weekend.

 

That evening was a quiet affair with room service and the pair settling into their room which although they were sharing gave them a queen sized bed each. The next day they toured Barcelona enjoying both the sights and the local cuisine before arriving back at the hotel to get ready for the evening. Christine was a little nervous about the club Lorna described as being ‘non-gender judging’ about people’s sexuality which sounded like a ‘free for all’, but decided to go along for the ride, if for no other reason than to say thank you to Lorna for being there.

 

The music in the club was pulsing and much to Christine’s surprise it wasn’t like the full blown lesbian clubs that Lorna had dragged her to in the past. Yes, there were female couples holding hands, but there was just as many male couples doing the same and added to that mix were heterosexual couples and mixed groups that had yet to declare their leanings. Christine relaxed for the first time in months and found herself dancing with various people over the evening. After one hot dance Christine leant forward to Lorna and said in her ear, “this guy is pretty hot, I think I might have scored.”

 

She was taken aback when Lorna roared with laughter as she replied, “think your gaydar is broken, that’s his partner over there,” indicating with her head to an older guy who had been watching with interest rather than concern.

 

Christine had consumed a fair amount of alcohol when suddenly she felt like she had been mentally hit with a club as the most hunkiest guy she had seen outside of a movie stood next to her and spoke, his English accentuated with a strong Spanish accent, “May I have the pleasure of a dance.”

 

As they danced Christine loved the way he moved, his hips gyrated to the beat and his muscled torso rippled under his white shirt. Christine could feel herself drooling as she took in his looks, he was easily over 6 foot with very little fat, his skin olive coloured, his eyes like deep pools of liquid emeralds, and his black hair cut short around the designer stubble on his face. By the size of the bulge in his tight black jeans he was well hung and Christine could feel herself getting damp.