9. GRIFFIN

I was cosplaying as someone who didn't have to constantly be thinking about my next casting or networking event. It was a different side to the Griffin that I'd allowed people to see over the years, well the exception being Ryan, but he was off with Thom. I was letting Russell in now, and it might've seemed like it was all going too fast, but I reminded myself that we were in a relationship pressure cooker, and under those circumstances, I was bound to get to know him and luckily, we both matched each other.

This wasn't my first trip to Spain. I'd been to the country a couple of times. There were a couple fashion brands I'd managed to get casting calls for. But a lot of the time I'd been in the country, I hadn't been able to explore and travel.

Seville was bright, yellow stone buildings reflected the light, almost giving it an ethereal effect. In a way, it was like basking in pure sunlight.

"Did you manage to get sun protector on your face?" Russell asked.

I turned to him, nearly spinning on a foot. "Yes, Daddy."

Either he blushed, or the heat had got to his face fast. "Good," he said.

There weren't many people around us in the street, and those that were passing by might not have understood, but it was nice to call him that in public. It filled my belly with all the gooey tingles. "Have you put protector on?"

"Yes, but we'll need to reapply again soon."

I trusted him. He had nicely tanned skin, although I shouldn't have been aiming for a tan as nice or as dark as his. I needed to land the catalogue gig once I was back in the States, and since it was for winter clothes, it wouldn't matter if I had a little sun kissed look.

Seville was beautiful, and after Russell with my hand in his, took me down a couple streets lined with orange trees, I definitely saw the appeal. It was like nothing I'd seen before. And there was a strange fragrant smell in the air that made me smack my lips.

"Can we eat them?" I asked.

"I knew you were going to say something about that. The answer is no. They're apparently very bitter and they don't recommend eating them."

"Or, they tell people not to so that they can keep all the orange and vitamin C goodness to themselves." It was a solid theory.

Russell chuckled. "You might be onto something with that, but I don't think so. It's on all the tourism pages."

"Sounds like a conspiracy to me, and it must be going deep if all of the city is in on it."

"If that was the case, you'd see people reaching up to grab them," he said. "And I'm not talking about Ryan, because we both know he's probably already tried eating one."

He had a point. I could just message Ryan, but then he might want to merge the group, and I was enjoying our plan to stroll and stumble on all the places I wanted to visit. It was nice not having my vacation planned like my life outside.

It was also probably a good idea not to take fruit from random trees, the last thing I needed were stomach issues and an inability to ask for the bathroom in a foreign language.

Daddy Russell was a great tour guide, especially on the fly. He kept referencing information on his phone, but it felt natural, not like he was throwing facts at me, but more that it felt like he learned the information from living here. It was nice.

"And I think if you stand on those steps, I can take a picture of you," he said.

Maybe it was vanity, but hearing him say it gave me butterflies. I took instruction well. Standing by the steps with my back to the architecture. I didn't have normal picture poses, so I stuck two fingers up in a peace sign, it was very basic of me, but it felt right in the moment.

"You want me to take a picture of you both together?" a woman walking her chihuahua asked, it was painfully obvious we spoke English to them.

"Yes," I said, gesturing Daddy to come stand by me. "Thank you."

He wrapped an arm behind my back, pulling me in at the side. "I wonder if they think we're just friends, related, or dating?" he whispered.

"Let's see," I said, turning my head up at him. We kissed.

The woman taking the photo cooed. "Gorgeous," she said.

He kissed me back. "She was talking about you," he said.

"She was talking about both of us," I said, kissing him again.

As she handed us the phone back, she said something in Spanish and made squeak.

"I have no clue," Daddy said once she was gone.

I took his phone and looked through the pictures that she'd taken. She was right. They were gorgeous. It really felt like we were a couple. And I was excited to let it play out for the next week we would be spending together .

Daddy continued to lead me around with his hand in mine. At points, I thought we were walking around in circles. The city streets all looked similar with their white-yellow stone cobbles, the walls, and the street names in the mosaic plaques they had artistically varnished to walls.

I would've been sure we were going around in circles if we didn't keep coming out at different places around the city. The architecture was incredible, both stepping foot into the past, but then being surrounded by Starbucks and McDonald's. That's how it was everywhere in big European cities.

We came to a pause halfway through the trip and settled at a nice cafe with a outdoor seating and fans that misted cold air on you. There was something special about Europe, well, the continent, not the UK. That was a different kind of special to me. Spain had a homely feel, perhaps the warmth of the weather, or maybe it was the embrace the Spanish language felt.

Many coffees and wines were had, alongside tapas of tasty salty ham, some other types of meat in sauce, and of course, chips. I wasn't a picky eater, but in little space, I was only going to eat nuggets, tendies, chips, and anything sweet.

"We have enough time to visit the rest of the places, then make it in time for the show, and catch the last coach back to the ship," he said. "And also to apply more lotion. I saw you getting a little red on the tip of your nose."

"Oh no." I flinched to touch my nose.

"It's fine. We'll apply a little more cream, and then look for somewhere that sells aloe," he said. "I once got horrible burn and the best thing for it is aloe, and not an overpriced cream, we should get the actual plant."

"Got it," I nodded like I understood. "Wait. What does—"

"One of those plants with the spikes, not—not spikes, well, yeah, they do spike, but they don't have spikes."

"A cactus?"

"No, not spikes. Lemme grab a picture of one. But they should sell them somewhere, maybe at a Whole Foods or something."

It wasn't big on my list of things to do, but if it was going to help with potential sunburn, then I was desperate for it. The last thing I needed was Jill breathing down my neck about a change in appearance.

We continued to venture through the city streets, stopping and snapping pictures wherever I thought looked nice. Although every part of this place could've been pictured and it still wouldn't be enough.

Daddy found a nice, little vegan food store down some alley. I was sure we were going to be murdered, but inside it, they sold all types of trinkets and incense, but most importantly, a small aloe plant with a pot. It didn't look like it could help, but he explained that you cut a spike off and rubbed the insides on your skin. I'd definitely heard of weirder beauty regiments.

As we went through the city, seemingly deeper into the spiral of all the streets, we eventually met up Ryan and Thom. They'd been shopping by the looks of all the bags on their arms. Of course, Ryan could never go anywhere without turning it into a shopping spree.

"It was just some essentials," he said before I could ever ask him what it was. "A shirt, because it was pride themed, and some underwear. Supes cute."

"Supes," I repeated.

"Is that some new trendy lingo?" Russell asked.

"If someone could tell me, please do," Thom added. "He's been coming out with all types of weird words all day. What was the one you said earlier?"

"I learned it online," he said. "Ate and left no crumbs."

Russell looked at him with deep brows, knitting together. "Like, you finished your plate of food?"

"No," I said.

"See, Griff gets it."

"I mean, yeah, you finished your plate, but like it means something someone does so well there's no room for improvement," I said, hoping it was used right.

Ryan snapped his fingers up and down in the air. "Exactly that. Like your friend in drag last night. She ate that look and left absolutely zero crumbs."

From the look on Russell's face, I could tell he was still processing the information. "Ok, I'll let him know."

"Do you think he'll pick me to on stage for the drag cabaret?" Ryan asked.

I guess he hadn't got the memo that the decision was already made, and Russell would be going on stage. I wished it was me too, but I suppose the fun of it was putting someone in drag that you couldn't imagine, and Russell was that guy. Rugged, beardy, and a definitive Daddy. But he was mine. I was gatekeeping him for the next week.

The four of us continued to wander around the city until it was time to go to the flamenco show. The audience was mostly made up of other passengers from the cruise, all of which were dressed in an ensemble of rainbow and pride colored clothing.

I should've searched information about flamenco beforehand. I knew it was a dance, but I didn't realize it was so intense or romantic. Women in large flowing red dresses with polka dots and tight corseted tops. Black hair scraped back with gel into tight buns. They looked print photo ready.

I think I was the only one focused on the dance. Everyone else was far too interested in drinking the flowing locally sourced wine. It was incredible. Like witnessing a historical event and something clicking in the back of my mind. I wanted some of that passion I saw in the dances. The men, also dressed in fine ass suits with gold buttons on the waistcoat. I couldn't stop looking at them.

"I wanna dance," I whispered, placing my hand on Russell's lap.

"We can dance," he said, kissing my neck. "But maybe alone, in the bedroom. I'm not really a dancer."

"In bed," I giggled softly, turning to him and taking his kisses on my lips. "I want to—to fuck as well as they dance. Can you offer me that?"

He broke contact with me for a moment, looking at the dancers as their sharp shoes clacked on the flooring and the music played with hands clapping around to the same beat.

It was magic. The atmosphere with the crowd. The moving warm air like flames licking you. I kept my hand on Daddy's inner thigh, my breathing becoming shallower as I squeezed a little harder, edging right toward his cock as it was getting hard.

"We can't do that here," he said, a stifled moan in my ear.

"I know, but it's fun."

His hand on my inner thigh, slowly sliding up the opening of my shorts.

Nobody was watching. Not a single soul was paying attention to us as we took each other's cocks over our shorts in hand. Rubbing at each other, I knew there was going to be an eventual climax, and we were going at the beat of the music and the claps, the faster it got, the more aggressive our hand action became

Until it was too late, and we were both sat, slightly slouched in our chairs. Wet patches of cum dotting the outsides of our shorts. They were barely visible in the dark, but we knew they were there, and there wasn't much either of us could do until the show was over.