Ibiza Wars

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What happens in Ibiza, stays in Ibiza.
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Third semi-autobiographical story in the ongoing Romy - Rick saga. Each story stands on its own.

It was a lazy Sunday morning and we just had a nice fuck. A really, really nice fuck. Rick put on his boxers and went to the window to smoke. I didn't like that he lit a joint, but that was one of the things I had to put up with. Suddenly, out of the blue.

"Have you ever betrayed me?"

That was a mood swing.

"Betrayed, how betrayed?" I acted innocently.

"Come on, you know what I mean. Have you ever cheated?"

I shook my head and laughed.

"Silly boy," I lied, "Of course not! You're the man of my dreams. I'm totally devoted to you."

This didn't convince Rick. I stepped out of bed, walked to him, grabbed his dick from under his pants and kissed him.

"I love it when you are a bit jealous, but not when you are too jealous." I purred.

I kissed him again. Rick gave me a little push.

"Get back, you're naked, people will see you."

I twirled in front of the window, singing and waving: "Taralalala! Hello, neighbours! Get your telescopes. I'm dancing naked!"

Rick couldn't suppress a smile. I turned around, shaking my arse all the way to the bed. Rick smoked in silence and apologised after he joined me.

"I'm sorry, it's just that Tarja mentioned something the other day."

I put my hands in the air.

"Tarja, Tarja. You know what a blabbermouth she is, always inventing stories."

Tarja was one of the friends I went to Ibiza with. The holiday had been booked before Rick and I were an item. It was a girl's thing anyway. A week of sun and tequila sunrise. I loved the nudist beach. The others mostly kept their bikini bottoms on, but I always went full monty.

I put myself on my knees and started whispering in Rick's ear in my deepest, sensual voice.

"I went every day to the nudist beach. Lying on my back, my legs bent, my pussy fully exposed. You should've seen the men who accidentally walked by and had to look around for a minute."

"Stop it, you wicked woman," Rick groaned.

"We went to a gay bar in the evening. Free admission when naked. They had leather boys, dancing with their dicks hanging out of their leather 'hosen'. I might have accidentally touched one or two. Lots of lesbians as well, with fat greasy fingers."

My anecdote didn't have the effect it intended.

"What about this Enrico business?", Rick grumpily asked.

"Enrique," I clarified.

Enrique was the bar-tender and the local stallion. He bragged that he nailed one hundred and ten women a season. I punched Rick hard on the shoulder.

"Do you think I would fuck such a loser?"

"I guess not," said Rick. "I'm sorry."

"If you really want to know a secret, One morning, I saw Enrique sneaking out of Tarja's bedroom."

Rick's eyes widened: "What, did they... fuck?"

I smiled because my deviation worked.

"I didn't say that. Perhaps they played Scrabble all night long. Promise me you won't tell anybody. Certainly not her boyfriend Sjoerd."

I turned on my belly and concluded: "Anyway, you know what they say. What happens in Ibiza, stays in Ibiza. Who says you didn't screw around when I was away with the girls?"

I didn't lie about the gay bar, it had been a decadent and perverse place. We merely went there for sightseeing. I didn't pay for the entrance, though.

Enrique had been another subject. One evening, he had been fuelling us with free mojitos. It was an all-in arrangement anyway. When the others left for the bungalow, I told them I wanted to stay for a nightcap. They giggled all the way to the door, giving not-so-subtle hints.

Enrique was so gentlemanlike to walk me to the bungalow, after closing the bar. We crossed the beach, and he did his default speech of how the moon and the stars paled compared to my beauty. I kissed him, perhaps to make him shut up. It was then that my bandana skirt fell from my hips. It didn't take him long to find out I wasn't wearing anything underneath.

I lay down on the sand, telling him there would be no fuck. I was drunk, but I was not mad. He placed his mouth where I wanted it to be and made me come. Stars, moonlight, cunnilingus. We didn't mind the passers-by.

I was a bit hesitant to give him a blow-job. He placed a condom around his penis and whispered sweet words. You can fill in the rest yourself.

Two days later, I was standing in the kitchen, eating a carrot, when Enrique sneaked out of Tarja's bedroom. He saw me, not knowing if he had to say something or not. He looked at my boobs, mumbled something Spanish, and hurried away. Tarja, she always was a slut.

Rick was awkwardly silent. He sighed a few times. Then he confided he had to say something. I was a little worried.

"You know," he said with an unsteady voice, "when I met you and left Gwen. I... still had sex with her. Once. "

I let his words sink in, and then I merely repeated them. You should've seen Rick grovelling. Closure sex, I've read all about it in Cosmo. It happens all the time. The new girl is hot, but the guy still wants mama's pussy for one last time. Loser. Time for a plan.

I lied: "As if I don't know. Your sperm was probably still leaking from her pussy when she called me to tell me what a pathetic adulterer you were."

Rick suddenly turned pale. I loved it.

"I used a condom," he said, hoping this would soften the problem. Then he got a bit suspicious.

"How did she get your number?"

"Easy when your pin has been 1111 for the last five years, Sherlock."

Time for the kill. I had to make him suffer once and for all.

"Who fucks a woman with the name Gwendolyn anyway? Her vegan mannerisms, her Indian guru of the week. Did you go all tantric on her?"

Rick looked miserable and asked for forgiveness.

"It's already forgotten," I lectured. "It was a classic war. We fucked four times before you had the guts to tell her. Isn't that when she threw that menorah in your face? She tried to come back like Napoleon from Ibiza, but she failed."

"Elba," corrected Rick.

"Whatever. She might have won a battle, but I won the fucking war. What if she had cut your dick off? "

Rick managed a little grin.

"I left before she could get to the kitchen."

I hugged my good, stupid, man, and forgave him with a kiss. We made love again. I am not sure if this was reconciliation sex or not. But I think I'll have to go to Ibiza next year.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Great story!

BamboozlerBamboozleralmost 2 years ago

My favourite of your stories, reads so naturally and is so believable. Very hot!

IndyOnIndyOnalmost 2 years ago

Not very readable....it's like you were just stating facts instead of telling a story! *2* Keep trying...

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

Peoples this is a fantasy story , as the author points out , so why get so defensive over morals and butt hurt over principles??? Again FANTASY , besides who died and made you people the ‘ Principle Police of Published Porn ‘ ??? Common taters are like onions , just a growing veggie , until someone uproots them , then they get all steamed up and boil over . I say “let em simmer and stew until somebody stirs em up and sticks their meat to em “!!! Yeah chew on that awhile !!! Good story worth a 5 and an applause for stirring the pot of protesters

NaturalRomanceNaturalRomancealmost 2 years agoAuthor

I see these stories as miniatures of my own life and fantasy. They are not meant for your wanking. If you don't like that, just sod off.

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