The Walled Garden - Sex Stories

The Walled Garden

... guesthouse open and Rosa emerge. She was as beautiful as ever. Long black hair hung loose over her shoulders, framing an oval face that was dominated by a pair of dark eyes beneath black brows.

To make the picture of the Spanish rose complete she should have been wearing a white dress. As it was, she was in a tube top and shorts that clung to her body like paint.

Roberto looked up. Through my binoculars I saw his lips move, saw a question appear on his face. His eyes told a story, though, as they travelled over Rosa's body. I wondered whether she could feel the heat of his gaze on her skin.

"Ola, buenas!" Rosa's voice was loud in my ear. I realised she still had her phone on - using a bud in her ear, just like I was.

Roberto replied, something of deference on his face as he spoke. An apology for not understanding Spanish, I realised a moment later.

"I was wondering whether I could bring you anything," Rosa said. "A drink, maybe? You look very... hot."

By this time she was standing before him. Almost pressing against him. Her hand reached out to brush his.

Roberto smiled at her. "I am used to the sunshine. But you're right." His fingers grasped hers. "It's very hot here all of a sudden."

My wine glass was at my lips. It had been there for some time. I took a quick sip and put it down. It was fascinating to watch: two confident, sexual beings engaged in a pre-fucking ritual. They both knew what was going to happen, were both eager for it. Like two ...

... professionals approaching a job.

I felt a stab of jealousy and anger. I hated Rosa. I hated Roberto. I hated myself for standing here watching, for... For what, precisely? It wasn't a simple question, and I pondered it as I watched the two beautiful people before me flirt their way towards sex.

Was I jealous of Rosa, because she was going to have sex? Because of how Roberto was looking at her, how he was teasing her hair with his fingers, how his eyes seemed to be licking over the bare flesh above her top?

Was I jealous of Roberto because Rosa was doing the same to him?

Was I jealous of both of them for having the boldness to stand there, oozing lust and confidence?

I'd conquered my profession. I owned a company with a team of three dozen consultants and half as many support staff. I won big contracts from bigger clients. People in the business knew my name, they knew my face. When I walked into a room, people looked up. When I spoke, they listened.

And yet the thought of doing what Rosa had just done made my knees tremble, the hand holding my binoculars shake.To walk up to a gorgeous man like that, confident that he'd want me...?

The realisation made the jealousy subside a little. It didn't go away entirely, of course. It still hurt to think that Rosa was stealing this shared experience away from me. That she'd rather drag Roberto off to her lair, out of sight, than have another secret moment together with me.

By now the pair of them had their bodies almost ...