I met Felipe on a Friday night at a tapas bar in Edinburgh. I was in Scotland for the Edinburgh Festival and with my group of girlfriends, we went out every night. We explored the city and watched performances up until the early hours and partied at bars until sunrise before doing the whole thing all over again.
I had dressed up for the night as I usually did: a blood red cocktail dress, a waist cinching belt, black tights and black heels. I’d kept my hair in a bun for a few hours before letting the newly formed waves loose and blended my makeup to perfection.
Men and women dressed from jeans and shirts to suits and dresses mingled and chatted in the Cuban bar, while me and the girls toasted to another night in this beautiful city. I was perched on a bar stool, watching a couple dancing a salsa to the Latin music playing over the speakers.
Their carefree, happy smiles as they swayed and spun to the music captivated me. I’d almost forgot about my friends while they chatted away, cocktails in hand. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. That was when Felipe approached me.
I tore my gaze from the dancing couple to look upon a tall man in a dark grey suit. The top button of his white shirt was undone, loosened after a day at the office and he stood with what I assumed was a glass of whiskey in his hand.
I took him to be in his late 30s, perhaps early 40s. As we spoke he wasn’t over-confident or arrogant like other men I had been approached by in the past. Felipe had a slight shyness about him I found rather endearing. There was something about his manner and how he spoke to me that had me suspecting he was a fairly recent divorcee. I couldn’t explain to you how, but that was the vibe I was getting from him.
He had come straight from work with some colleagues for a few drinks. I looked over to the end of the bar, where I could see a group of tall men in expensive suits, all glancing over at their friend. I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. From the student to the exec, nervousness talking to women certainly didn’t discriminate.
We spoke for what felt like hours. He was Spanish but had been living in Scotland for the last ten years. He had travelled all over the world and I was enthralled by his stories. I liked him. The more we talked, the more we seemed to bounce off each other.
With his sweep of jet black hair and the way the creases around the corners of his eyes crinkled with his kind, charming smile, I also couldn’t help but find him a handsome man indeed. The longer we spoke, the more the energy in the air around us changed. From nervous and polite, to vibrant and laughing, to very obviously flirtatious. We were attracted to one another and we both knew it.
A casual touch on his shoulder went to a caress of my shoulder, growing closer together, feeling his heat and heady aftershave enveloping me lusciously. Our eyes never left the other’s as our voices became lower. His husky whispers in my ear over the now impossibly loud chart music made me quiver in my seat, before he closed the space between us and placed a kiss on my lips.
There was a taste of a raw passion bubbling under the surface of his gentle, self-assured kiss and when he broke away, my head was spinning. As he touched his forehead with mine, eyes turned down to the floor with a strong arm snaked around my waist, I knew I needed him right there and then.
“Want to take this somewhere else?” I asked. Eyes still the floor, he nodded and squeezed his hand on my hip.
“You go,” he gruffly whispered in my ear, “I’ll follow you.”
I feigned to the girls a trip to the ladies room and began to make my way up the wooden stairs to the restaurant. As I looked behind me, I saw Felipe feigning the same white lie to his suited friends. Our stares locked one last time before he began to follow me.
At the top of the stairs was a corridor leading to the ladies and gent’s, and a small function room named The Havana Lounge. Inside was pitch black apart from the windows letting in the faint light of the street lamps outside.
I pushed the door open when I heard footsteps behind me. Felipe was at the top of the stairs, eyes wandering up and down my body with a dark, sexy smile. Not a word was said as he followed me inside. I found a catch on the door and locked it. The second I turned around, his lips were on mine.
I couldn’t tell you how we got from the door to the back of the room in total darkness. I couldn’t tell you when his jacket came off and the top of my dress came down, breasts exposed to his luscious, unrelenting lips. Either way, by the time we were hidden in a small corner, I was against the wall with my skirt over my hips and his trousers were down, pressing his arousal against my belly.
I fished a condom from my purse and he hurriedly rolled it on, when his strong hands grabbed my hips and picked me up like a dancer would, moved my thong to the side when he slowly, delectably, sunk inside me.
Right away I melted against him. With every deep, hard stroke his touch was soft and attentive. Hardly ever did his lips leave mine, only to shower me in more kisses along my neck and jaw. Passionate words growled in my ear, a mixture of Spanish and English that made me shake, tingle and plead for more.
He made love like a man in love…and I couldn’t get enough of him.
I grappled at his shoulders, moaned against his lips not caring how loud I was. The music was so loud no one would ever have heard us. When he pinned my wrists against the wall, he sent me over the edge. An explosive climax shuddered through my bones as I surrendered under this man’s irrevocable heat. He jerked and stiffened, a series of primal grunts and cries rippling in the crook of my neck.
For what felt like a lifetime, we stood hunched against the wall in each other’s arms. When we met the other’s gaze, we both burst in to a fit of giggles, half not believing what we had just done and where.
But one thing was for certain. It was a secret of a beautiful city that only we would share.
*Picture – Pinterest