Cuckold in Barcelona
Copyright© 2026 by Quest12345
Chapter 9. Amateur Detective
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 9. Amateur Detective - A couple decides to make the husband's fantasy come true. Little by little, they both become hooked on the experience. I usually like to set my stories in a generic country with more universal habits or foods so that everyone can identify with them better. In this case, due to a request, the story is set in Barcelona, mentioning places and habits specific to Catalonia.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Cuckold Sharing Oral Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism
I can’t resist the temptation to follow David.
Iris’s words, hinting at the possibility of not consulting me beforehand the next time she had sex with David, left me feeling both uneasy and aroused.
My wife’s newly discovered sexuality was arousing to me. I liked this new Iris: more self-assured, more willing to make love, more playful in bed, even more attractive, as if that confidence and heightened desire had made her physically more beautiful.
What’s more, in my fantasy—which had sparked all this—she was taking the reins of her relationship with her lover, so it was part of my fantasy that she would sleep with him whenever she fancied it.
But I couldn’t help feeling jealous of how attracted she was to his masculinity and how much she enjoyed sex with him. What’s more, the lack of restraint shown by the fact that they’d had sex in a bathroom worried me. Could the relationship spiral out of control? Could there come a time when she fell in love and chose him?
I finally plucked up the courage to bring it up one evening and tell her that I was feeling a bit uneasy about what had happened.
Iris assured me I had no reason to worry, that however good the sex with him might be (hearing which I couldn’t help but feel hurt), her relationship with me was special, including the fact that I’d let her have that experience and that she wouldn’t swap me for anyone. Ours was true love, whereas with him it was a game—pleasurable, but just a game—and they both knew it.
She told me that some of her friends or work colleagues went out partying without their husbands just to have a good time and that this didn’t mean they didn’t love them, just as there were husbands who went to watch football without their wives, and that didn’t imply a lack of love either; that enjoying an activity with someone else was a way of adding variety to a relationship.
Iris assured me that if at any point I wanted to stop, it would all end; the experience was helping to improve our relationship and especially our sex life, which was absolutely true, but that if it started to ruin things, we should definitely stop.
Of course, sex wasn’t something you’d normally have outside a relationship, but it was also true that I’d suggested it to her, and I couldn’t help but admit that I liked it and that it was very exciting to watch her make love, to feel how desirable she was to other men and the pride I felt when she came back to me. Besides, I had to admit that I was aroused by the game and the desire that grew with the anticipation, because when we finally made love, it was an experience that more than made up for all the waiting.
In the end, I felt more at ease.
However, the following Wednesday, when David asked my permission to ‘go and see his uncle’, I suddenly couldn’t resist the temptation to follow him – partly out of jealousy and partly to see what might happen; after all, the core of my fantasy was to see my wife enjoying herself with another man.
As soon as David left, I told everyone I had a meeting with a client, put on my coat and went out onto the street to follow him. I’d never followed anyone before and didn’t know how to go about it. I kept my distance, fearing that at any moment he might turn round and recognise me and at times worrying I’d lose him if I strayed too far, but fortunately, he didn’t turn round, and I managed not to lose sight of him at any point.
After a while, they reached the main façade of the cathedral, Gaudí’s ‘Sagrada Familia’, with its towering, strange spires and ornate walls covered in sinuous shapes. He waited for a moment, and shortly afterwards my wife appeared; she embraced him affectionately and kissed him on the cheeks.
Arm in arm, they made their way to the entrance queue, which was very long, as usual. I didn’t know what to do; I thought that if I joined the queue near them, they might see me, and if I stood too far away, I’d lose sight of them once they went in and wouldn’t know if they came out or not.
In the end, I decided to wait for them outside; I didn’t think they’d try to do anything inside the building, which was full of visitors and had no hidden corners; besides, the toilets next to the ticket office would be constantly full, I thought with a smile.
So I waited and waited patiently in the park opposite the entrance. After more than an hour, they both came out, turning from time to time to look at the towering spires and some architectural detail. I followed them to a nearby café, where they had a coffee and, after chatting for a while, said goodbye, again with a hug.
I left quickly to get home before my wife. I didn’t know whether to feel glad that nothing had happened or frustrated that nothing had happened. I wondered what I really wanted and couldn’t find an answer. Perhaps Iris was right to decide for herself when and how she slept with David and then tell me about it.
When she got home, I asked her about her afternoon, and she told me exactly what I already knew, so my lack of interest must have shown on my face. When she saw my expression, she said to me in a teasing tone, “I reckon you’re disappointed we didn’t go wild like last week. I’ll bear that in mind for next time.”
I tried to make an excuse, not daring to admit that I’d been following them: “No, sorry, I was just distracted by work.” But I’m sure she didn’t believe me and thought she was right.
The week passed as normal, though I think we both sensed a growing sexual tension because we couldn’t make love until she’d done so with David.
We caressed each other more when we went to bed, until we had to pull away when the arousal became too intense: me with my cock erect and desperate to come, and her with her nipples just as erect and her pussy soaking wet; we would then turn away from each other, separating to respect the rules of the perverse and exciting game we’d got ourselves into.
On the Wednesday of the following week, I was determined not to repeat the foolishness of following David, but when he asked me again for permission to leave early and I thought that perhaps he was going to have sex with Iris, I couldn’t help myself and followed him down the street. I don’t know if it was jealousy, the excitement of seeing them, how horny I was, or a combination of all of it, that drove me on, but the fact is I couldn’t help following him.
This time he must have been going further, and shortly after I went out onto the street, he hailed a taxi. I panicked, thinking I’d lose sight of him, but just then another empty taxi drove past, and I got in. When I told the driver to follow the taxi in front, he looked at me in amazement and said, “I can’t believe it! Just like in the films!” But he obeyed me and followed the taxi.
David got out in front of Park Güell, where Iris was already waiting for him, and they both went inside. I got out of the taxi and followed them at a distance.
After walking through the most touristy and busy part of the park, with its curious fountains, columns and viewing points, they continued on towards the upper paths, a quieter, woodier area, where I had to keep further away so they wouldn’t see me.
I was thinking that I’d been a bit of a fool to follow them again, without really knowing why, when I noticed that Iris, who down below had been keeping her distance from him—acting more professionally in her role as a ‘tour guide’, pointing out and commenting on various features—was now leaning on his arm.
A little further on, I saw her stop and start typing on her mobile. Shortly afterwards, I received a message: ‘Darling, do you mind if I do something crazy?’
I knew exactly what sort of crazy thing she was talking about, but what did she plan to do there in the middle of a park? Or were they going home? To a nearby hotel? I knew David didn’t have much time before he had to go and look after his relative. The sky was already darkening rapidly, though this was less because of the late hour and more because we were heading into winter and it was getting dark early.
In any case, I decided to reply to Iris: “You can get up to whatever crazy antics you like, as long as you tell me about it afterwards;-). I love you.”
‘Thanks, you’re great; I don’t deserve you. I’ll make it up to you later,’ she replied.
They carried on walking a little further; we were now on the path that runs along the highest part of the park, less frequented, and suddenly I saw Iris push David, and they disappeared into the hedges lining the path. It was already very dark, so I could barely make them out.
I made my way through the vegetation where they had left the path, moving very carefully so as not to come across them suddenly. I crept forward slowly until I could just make out, against the backdrop of the city lights, the wall marking the edge of the park, and I spotted a patch of light among the foliage: Iris’s blouse.
I crouched down and crept a little further until I could see them clearly, as far as the darkness that had already covered the sky would allow. David and my wife were kissing and embracing passionately, and she had taken off her coat to make it easier for him to caress her. She slipped her hand inside David’s suit, caressing him with a long-suppressed desire.
I was stunned; my wife, so serious and unadventurous, making out and groping each other in a park as if she were a teenager. How far did they intend to go?
When I saw him unbuttoning her blouse, pushing aside her bra and starting to caress her breasts, whilst she unbuttoned his shirt and stroked his bare chest, I realised they could go very far. It was like watching a couple of teenagers overflowing with desire, caressing and kissing each other wildly – a very arousing sight – and the truth is that I suddenly realised my cock had gone stiff and hard, and I’d unconsciously started stroking it through my trousers. I decided to unzip my fly and carry on stroking myself more comfortably.
I thought the situation was very exciting and, at the same time, risky. What if someone saw them? What if they ended up getting arrested for public indecency or something like that? On the other hand, I imagined that the daring nature of the situation might be turning them on more than usual.
Then I said to myself: What if I’m the one who ends up arrested for peeping, for voyeurism, like a sexual deviant caught watching couples in the dark? I know there are people in parks who are in the habit of doing that.
Thinking about it, I automatically looked around and suddenly made out a figure in the shadows. A man was watching them whilst shamelessly masturbating.
My first impulse was to go up to him and say something like, ‘Get out of here, you pervert. What are you looking at?’ Then I realised how absurd that would be: a voyeur telling another that he’s a pervert and not to do what the first one is doing.