Chapter 5

If male / male contact bothers you, skip this chapter!

I hinted in earlier chapters that I haven’t always been 100% straight. Well in this chapter, I’m going to reveal what happens in a threesome with two men and one woman.

Alright, I admit it; I enjoyed it.

The reality is that if you do threesomes, it just happens. If you really get down and explore the edges of sexuality, you find things hidden in the depths.

If you’re not afraid to know where that leads, read on, and I’ll tell you.

Otherwise, skip this chapter and you’ll never have to know the dark truth.

Filipa and Cristina seemed pissed off at me; jealous, maybe racist too.

“She had you fooled!” Filipa said, “Did you really think a woman like that would want to stay in here?”

I said nothing; but I was surprised at her emotions. She was with Cristina, she came to me for information and sometimes we had sex. She knew who I was, I hid nothing.

Except that box of course.

“You used condoms?” Filipa demanded.

“Relax, will you?” I said, “Yes, of course.”

“Fuck you, Justin!” she spat, “And you can fuck off from here too, you have 24 hours!”

Cristina signaled silently that she’d take care of it as she followed her girlfriend and commander up the track to their jeep.

I met Esmeralda at our rendezvous. We talked, laughed, ate, and fucked. The old woman was like a cure; someone I could talk to and ejaculate into.

She told me her grandson had a girlfriend; the pharmacist’s beautiful young daughter Rafaela.

“I think they’re both still virgins.” She said wistfully, “But not for long I’m sure.”

I didn’t tell her that I’d seen the girl half dressed and unequivocally fucked with old Rainer in his villa.

We kissed, touched, and I was happy.

As my cock disappeared into Esmeralda’s old lean familiar body, they all faded away. All my girlfriends, troubles, stresses, were shoved to a back shelf.

When I make love to a woman is the only time when my mind is focused. Her crooked yellowed teeth, her wide dull eyes, each wrinkle, fold, and pore. She was the least attractive woman I’d ever been intimate with, and it didn’t matter at all.

She was beautiful inside, she had personality. Just the fact that she liked to do it at her age was sexy.

I wondered if I had an Oedipus complex?

My mother was a sexy woman. A whore. Not like Esmeralda at all; mom was a lot younger than her too.

Esmeralda was good for me; my anchor.

As usual, I lay on her for a while as we enjoyed our sexual afterglow; I held most of my weight on my knees and elbows, looking down at the old woman fondly.

Sometimes I feel regret after fucking an unattractive woman. Not with Esmeralda. I kissed her ancient mouth softly as my cock shrank inside her.

“Oh Justin,” she sighed, looking up at me with a frightening emotion in her eyes. “Your energy is all that keeps me going these days. You know, I told my doctor I was still sexually active and I don’t think she believed me.”

I was sure Filipa didn’t mean it, but I prepared to leave anyway. It was a matter of respect, for myself as much as for her.

In the dead of night, I slipped down to the shoreline, and pulled the gravel aside, uncovering the green barnacle encrusted fiberglass box. I used a saw to cut off one corner.

The barnacles indicated it had been in the water for a year or more. What an idiot I was; it could have drifted in from anywhere in the world, no one was looking for it here.

Inside were rectangular bricks wrapped in plastic shrink wrap. I slid one out, it was wet. The box had leaked.

I covered the box with rocks and gravel again, and climbed back up to the hole I lived in. It was 3AM, and the plastic wrapped brick sat on my driftwood table, taunting me.

Whatever was inside was valuable. And dangerous.

I’d been dead broke for years, and I’d been good. I was healthy, strong, and reasonably happy.

Before, while I’d been burning through the money my wife had left me, I was a total asshole.

I’d seduced women for the thrill, just to see if I could. I broke young girl’s hearts, broke up marriages, I even seduced a 34 year old virgin nun.

I used lies, pretended to care when I didn’t, pretended to have a job and a home in the US when actually I was living in a rental house near the beach on my inheritance money, just burning through the cash.

I played guitar by a fire on the beach and got young couples stoned, then seduced the girl while the boy snored next to us.

I seduced a teenager, then her mother, then told the girl about it, and cared nothing for her pain.

Then I’d gotten into coke for a while, until I was broke.

But while I was penniless, I’d changed.

I’d needed the kindness of strangers to survive. I found that I actually cared again, about my lovers and about myself. I had less sex, but it was much more satisfying. I’d completely stopped cocaine and drinking too.

The plastic covered brick glistened at me, evil, powerful, the promise of wealth. The possibility at least.

I had no health insurance. No legal residence. I needed new shoes, and most of my clothes were worn out. A new toothbrush would be nice.

Maybe the contents were ruined by seawater. Maybe I’d get arrested for it, or killed, or simply ripped off.

Maybe it was cocaine.

That stuff had been my downfall. I didn’t even use that much compared to some people I knew, but it sucked out my brain and my bank account.

I hid the brick in a crevice of the cave wall, and lay in my bed as the dawn slowly lit the world outside again.

I knew a dope dealer; one of my old surf pals had gone that route to pay for the beach life. I should never have fucked his sweetheart ... maybe he’d forgiven me by now.

It was all too scary; my simple life was suddenly filled with terror and I didn’t like it.

I wanted to call my mother but I lost my phone just around that time. I had no money to buy another.

I walked into the village; bought a lump of bread from the bakery for my last few cents, greeted Mila at the post office, and went into the police outpost.

The 4 officers assigned there lived in quarters above the office.

“Hola Justin.” The young recruit greeted me, “What can I do for you?”

“Is Filipa here?” I asked.

“She was transferred to Valladolid yesterday.” He told me, “We’re waiting for our new chief to arrive. Anything I can do?”

My knees went weak; without Filipa, my days here were numbered. It was either return ‘home’ to mother, or open that brick and find out what the sea had brought me.

“And Cristina?” I inquired.

“She went with Filipa.” The young man told me sadly. “Captain Carvalo will be here to take command on Monday.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I was fucked. My days as a bum in paradise were numbered if old Carvalo was in charge again.

I walked 2 hours, back to my cave; I really should save a few euros and get a new tire for my bicycle I thought to myself. And what to do with my treasure?

There was no use trying to figure out what to do until I opened the plastic and found out what was inside I told myself as I got to my windswept hole.

I took the sealed plastic brick from the crevice I’d hidden it in; I got my knife and slit it open.

It wasn’t drugs; it was cash. 5 bundles of 20 euro notes. 500 notes, 10,000 Euros. I could afford a new toothbrush, and shoes too.

If the rest of the cube had the same notes inside, it was several million.

I was terrified; I’d been a total asshole with a few percent of that. My mind spun with plots, plans, and catastrophe. I could get arrested, robbed, tortured, killed.

I could stay in the hotel and fuck a hundred tourists.

I could overdose on cocaine.

I took a few notes and hid the rest, and walked along the sandy barren cliff towards the beach area; maybe one of the shops would be open even though it was off season. The cantina was closed, I’d wanted to pay the 23 Euros I owed.

There was a parking area on the end of the cliff, before it sloped down to the beach, hotel, and tourist zone.

Winter campers stayed there with their RV sometimes. There was only one vehicle there, an old French couple were cooking meat on a barbeque, heavily dressed as it was a bit cold and windy.

The man spoke to me in upper class Spanish, asking if I was Justin who lived in the cliff. When I said I was, they asked if I’d like to eat with them.

They seemed very flirtatious; she was sexy and quite doable, but I had the impression it would have to be a three-way. She spoke to me in English with a soft sexy French accent.

Whenever I’d done that, 2 guys and 1 woman, I’d ended up with a cock in my mouth. The thing is, it’s quite nice actually.

But I feel all weird afterwards. Regret. I’m not attracted to men.

It’s not about the organs you know, it’s the body shape, and mostly the face. I don’t want to look into a grinning male face while I’m turned on, it spoils my fun. At the same time, I don’t mind too much if a guy has a fondle or a taste while I’m making love with his woman. Some women get really turned on by having two guys at once, other times I thought it was the man who really wanted it, and she was doing it for him.

Anyway, this couple was Arianne and Philip, he was Spanish she was French, they were both 50+ and good looking.

I have to be honest here; I was hungry. Their grill smelled too good to refuse. I had money in my pocket, but I wasn’t sure anything at all would be open down in the beach area in winter, and town was a long walk.

Arianne was petite, her hair a mix of grey and artificial blond, her eyes green/blue. She had a wonderful figure, and thin facial skin without lines or wrinkles that told me she’d had a facelift not too long before.

She was sexy; very sexy. Her smile was bright and her makeup tasteful. Her clothes were colorful and well fitted. Her jewelry was expensive; middle class stuff, not ultra-rich. The RV was large and rented.

Yes, this is what I’d become. A bum who scrounged food from passing strangers, judging them for their wealth, willing let them use me in their games just for a warm meal and a hot shower.

Arianne had an intentionally exaggerated sexuality. She rolled her eyes to the side to look at me without moving her head, smiling flirtatiously when we had eye contact. She stretched herself a little, pulling her shoulders back to emphasize her breasts. She sat a little closer than necessary and put a hand on my knee. Her curly blond hair pretended to fall around her face casually. She laughed sweetly and often.

I liked her, and the husband looked turned on by his wife’s blatant flirting. They filled my belly with nourishment and we all shared some conversation.

I knew what they wanted. They were players, here to try out the caveman.

I stayed as it got dark. They invited me inside.

I hesitated; I had enough to worry about, did I really want to?

They looked good, and they smelled nice. Very clean, just a hint of perfume on each of them. They both smiled at me hopefully, excited by the adventure.

Philippe was originally Spanish, but had moved to France young and become a lawyer there. I wanted to ask him things, but casually, as if just curious. He grinned at me hopefully; so did his sexy wife.

“My surf friends and I find stuff on the beach sometimes.” I said, “We always wondered; what’s the law regarding found property?”

He told me a long legal story, the gist of which was that found property might be owned by the land owner, government, insurance company somewhere, or the person who had lost it. Depending on a lot of factors, it could be divided among various claimants.

None of whom included the beach bum who stumbled across it.

Finders are not keepers.

The French couple were players for sure. We shared a bottle of wine, the evening turned cold. I said I needed a shower and they said I could use theirs.

I almost declined. I liked them both and was quite willing to fool around with Arianne. Philippe grinned at me hopefully.

Ok, what the hell. Sometimes you just have to give a little, stretch the boundaries, and let a cuck husband suck cock.

I showered in the tiny RV shower, being careful to spare the water.

I was confused; Cristina was gone, my passport was expired, I’d overstayed my 3-month stay in Spain by 10 years, my mother was a whore and I didn’t know what I was.

I came out of the tiny cubical toweling my hair, my flaccid penis swinging between my thighs. The attractive French couple were sitting at the little table, staring at me wide eyed; I might be a bearded bum, but I’m a hot guy too.

It’s the surfing. Paddling the board out through the waves builds the arms, shoulders, and chest. Hanging out on the beach, climbing up and down the cliff, carrying water home in buckets, my body was well developed, lean, suntanned.

As soon as old Carvalo was back in town, I’d probably be arrested and deported back to America. I needed to get to the embassy in Madrid, or leave Spain completely.

A vehicle like this could carry me and the money easily. No one would see me leave, which would keep my options open.

I didn’t have a plan. It just seemed like a really good idea to share some pleasure with the oddly sexy Arianne. And her husband, if that was where things went. He obviously wanted me to fuck her, I just didn’t know if he’d participate or only watch us.