Travel Escort Louisa Lesander - Viva la Vida in Barcelona.

Those who have already been to Barcelona may know that this city is not only lively and chic, it has much more to offer, such as a wonderful beach, the sea, delicious tapas, art and culture, colorful markets and a fantastic old town. And furthermore an interesting erotic museum, whose visit can be very exhilarating but nevertheless stimulating.

Now imagine what a Barcelona date with me, your independent Escort could be like.

If we travel there from different places, I will be the first to check in at our place, probably one of the most fashionable and beautiful hotels. After check-in, I will annex one half of the wardrobe in the suite, along with drawers, to house my seductive lingerie and bikinis, summer clothes and shoes (even very high ones). If the amount of wardrobe should surprise you, yes, an escort is prepared for everything.

Various toys will of course also find their place in the drawer after I have reassembled them. The "reassembled" is due to a funny experience during a train ride, where these cheeky things had made themselves independent for unknown reasons and buzzed into the train compartment from my small suitcase. It was probably the longest train ride I ever had, I tried to ignore these noises that were emerging from of my luggage with infernal volume and sent out some prayers, the batteries should please please give up, which of course they did not do. I guess I don't have to mention that I was probably sitting in the only large train compartment where there was silence on that day .... That will never happen to me again.

After we have enjoyed each other in this way, it is time to do something else in the city, for example in one of the funniest highlights that can be found in Barcelona, namely the erotic museum on the Rambla. Years ago, when I had not yet immersed myself in the world of escorting, I had once discovered this shrill place and found it fascinating and stimulating at the same time. One passes through an inconspicuous entrance that is visible only upon a second view and enters the entrance to the museum, whose rooms rather consist of a picturesque but chic and typical Spanish flat with a rather big patio at the second floor, than of a classic museum hall.

The exhibits, which document the erotic preferences as well as the toys created for this purpose since the far past of the devoted lust and eroticism, from all over the world, are exhibited there. Some are self-explanatory, with others I still do not know how and what was done with them. Perhaps you know more than I do?

The first dildo, carved out of wood, was as shapely and lifelike as a bedpost, but there are also artfully designed variants, with which people certainly had a lot of fun even then. In general wooden objects seemed to please people very erotically, I am still fascinated by a chair, which had a phallic protrusion in a delicate place, which is primarily meant to slide around on it unnoticed. I imagine to have a big dress with several petticoats, to air them to take a seat on this chair and let me glide over this small protrusion, unobtrusively always to and fro .... with rosy cheeks .... the term "to lead a stimulating conversation" gets a whole new meaning.

But my personal highlight in the erotic museum are the silent movies, the first porn movies. The fact that the plot of a porn movie has in most cases also funny aspects, has probably been a common theme since the beginning of porn production. The original porn movies had to do without sound and in most cases there were no subtitles or explanatory texts. Instead, as was probably technically impossible to realize in most films at that time, the images move quite rapidly. So the first porn movies are a wild mix of various sexual actions in funny costumes. Even though, it's quite funny to watch, especially because of the fast movement of the cinematic early days, it's also quite stimulating to imagine that we might try to re-enact it just as fast.

Overwhelmed by this visual stimulus of the erotic performances of the last centuries and touched in a stimulating way, we might decide to continue the further excursion through Barcelona, for example to the next tapas bar, of which there are actually some in the side streets that are preferably frequented by local people and not by noisy travel groups.

After a nice and cool vino blanco and some good tapas we continue, well it is a tourist hotspot, but one should have seen it, to the Sagrada Familia. The history of this monumental building is already spectacular, it was designed by Gaudi and started in 1882 and is still unfinished today, however, one is in good spirits to finish the construction until 2026, but the date could possibly overlap with the completion of the BER, the infamous new Berlin airport ... so one can be curious. Regardless of this entertaining detail, it is always an experience to have a look at this masterpiece, the incidence of light and its play within the church is fascinating and is the outcome of masterly planning. Those who are fascinated of Gaudi's architecture style and the respective buildings will even more like to explore Barcelona, as can find them throughout the city, the houses that were designed in his style.

Of course, a visit to the Fundació Joan Miró should not be missed in Barcelona, at least by those who are interested in arts and culture.

After this little excursion into Barcelona's cultural program, it is perhaps time to do something for our distinguished pale skin, which is inevitable when you live in a big city like Berlin and not too spoiled by the sun. And such a wonderful hotel pool is something really great, isn't it? The sun is shining and we watch a little bit the vivid hustle and bustle at and in the pool, which can be quite entertaining. And philosophize about God and the world.

After this pleasant leisure intermezzo, it's time for a nice meal and cool dry wine in a lively beach restaurant with a wonderful view of the seaside. Including the postcard sunset, we enjoy light Mediterranean food and a light but characteristically tasting wine.

I am always a little bit in love with such beautiful settings, the luck to enjoy Barcelona with all my senses. This little time-out that for a moment seems almost surreal because it cannot be surpassed in perfection. You want to let time run slower in order to capture this moment as long as possible!

These are exactly the moments I love, which I long for and which I am ready to share and create as an escort, with a lot of heart and feeling for and with people who love and appreciate this as much as I do.

Drunk with joie de vivre and high spirits, we might decide to visit the hotel's hip club. It is located on the top floor of the hotel and offers a breathtaking view over Barcelona at night. As it is the case in most of the super hip clubs, there is also the rule "outside only jugs" which means in such a club, on the best places only bottles are served. Thus, we feel induced to order a bottle of champagne, a little over the top, I know, but there is also something to celebrate, namely this wonderful day. The champagne is served with lots of tam tam in our small corner lounge, the basses are hammering, the music hits our nerve and we dance wildly.

Suddenly my eyes notice through the huge window front the beach and the light surf, which is so inviting... my thirst for adventure overcomes me and I grab you and the bottle of champagne and we move to the exit.

Giggling, we take the lift down to the lobby and under the winking gaze of the doorman we disappear into the night, directly to the beach, take off our shoes and most of our clothes and run into the surf. The waves meet our hot bodies, the water is pleasantly warm and caresses our legs, the endorphins are dancing the tango as we stand there in the middle of the sea, breathing the salty air, just happy, half naked, and with a half full bottle of champagne in our hands... somehow we manage to get into our suite without being too conspicuous and the evening has only just begun .....

"Viva la Vida en Barcelona"

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A hot pantie – a skilful gentleman and a remote-controlled climax

Since I found these panties on the net, I couldn't help but suffer from ominous hormonal boosts, resulting in ordering this promising lingerie. Finally, after about 14 days the package arrived and I immediately took a look to the content inside. As with almost all products of this kind, the quality was not the best. In particular for the pantie. The vibrating component of the pantie, which luckily was removable, had seemed somewhat attention attracting because noisy and I wondered whether other persons might notice the sound, for example in a restaurant.

In certain locations this certainly would be so, and especially in such locations, which are characterized in that the staff always seems a bit blasé by nature and that the guests do not really know about what to talk to each other and, consequently, prefer to deal with the awarded gourmet highlights. Thus, you usually can hear a pin fall onto the floor.

A slightly more vibrant location would be somewhat favourable.

But first of all, I urgently needed a male hand, one that has the necessary fine motor skills and is quite interested in those toys. For this responsibility requiring job, only one gentleman came to my mind, who likes to get excited to such kinky experiences and also tends to spend almost every month in Berlin. I quickly wrote an e-mail asking about his travel plans and at the same time preparing him for carrying his role in my Project.

On one Saturday evening these plans materialized and we met at 20.30 in a big Berlin celebrity restaurant whose station-like atmosphere provided the necessary background noise and I was confident, that we would not attract particular attention with our experiment.

That evening I wore a black decollete dress in which I felt decently wrapped by its perfect design, it was the ideal mix of elegance and erotic nobility. I had put up my long hair modestly.

When I prepared for the evening I anyway had the urgent desire not to appear like a remote-controlled independent escort lady, who not only wore a vibrant panties, but in addition this interesting plug-like item recommended by a kind fellow escort. Before I put on the panties, I professionally placed this nice piece of joy at a place where I expected it to be a refreshing and exciting experience (for all Greek fans: No it did not go down in the annals).

So, two remote controls tumbled around in my handbag, one for the panties and the other for the playful egg. In this context, it is important to mention that a woman should not keep various remote controls loose in a hand bag, which in my case approaches the dimensions of a travel case and allows me to carry along all the things that others might consider as useful for a spontaneous four week holiday.

Because if a woman is sitting in a taxi and grabbing around for her cell phone in this giant hand bag, thereby unintentionally activating one of the remote controls, the taxi driver might start wondering about this passenger starting to behave strangely, chuckling by no evident reason, and then explaining with a blush "It must be my cell phone, it's switched to vibration alert...” Such ineptitudes would give the word vibrating alert a somewhat special touch.

I am mentioning this a side comment only, but let us turn to the actual evening event.  As I mentioned previously, this particular restaurant was chosen only in view of the high level of noise, otherwise it splits the inclined gourmet community in and around Berlin into two parties, some rejecting it as impossible and a peace of dirt, others praising it as absolutely hip and prominent.

Still, I must say that I cannot really speak badly about this place and I was always served very courteously and very friendly, probably because the people there always confuse me there with some VIP, or, alternatively, I simply remind the restaurant boss of his beloved mum. And "mom" always gets the best table, and so was it also on that evening.

Between the amuse-geule and a sparkling champagne, I briefed my counterpart as discreetly as possible about the technical details and operational options of my special equipment being arranging in and on my body additionally. He blushed as I discreetly reached to him the “power” under the napkin, which I had wisely unfolded on the table first. I gave him the "power", those small remote controls, without a word but with a at the same time slightly anxious expectation, how this gentleman, with me sitting opposite to him as his remote-controlled lady, might act to irritate my sensibility

A humming sound was heard, but luckily concealed by the noisy environment to others, and the panties did the job, as well as the funny plug. The blood rose into my face, I could not distinguish if it was because of shame or excitement, but the fact that I was being fucked here in public by way of remote control was quite stimulating, if not insane erotic, but on the other hand seemed somewhat grotesque as well.

At the same time my gaze wandered nervously through the room and to a table where a group of C celebrities just seemed to pose around for imaginary photographers, who they seemed to expect every moment. Interestingly, among them was a lady who was known for her former bitch escapades and, thus, had achieved a certain fame.

Between a slight clumsiness of my companion on the remote control and a small suppressed sigh on my part, the thought flashed through my mind that I probably would be second to none in this slut parade over there. But thankfully, I was not on the wish-list of various paparazzi, because my celebrity status will in this life probably not turn up, and this certainly is better for an Escort Lady, who was remotely controlled at just that moment. Taking the meals was difficult under these circumstances as I might have appeared a little awkward.

We had ordered a large portion of oysters, which I had to prepare for my counterpart mouth-friendly, since the poor man´s hands were more or less busy with other duties.

Between some violent thrusts and subsequently declining clitoral stimulation, I gorged down the viscous biomass, appropriately like a starving woman. I almost choked over these little mean things.

I do not want to imagine what would have happened if I had had a coughing attack. The connoisseur knows that decent coughing of the lady is quite perceptible in the event that a man dwells in her, and this occasionally leads to unintentional ejection of his best piece.

In my currently stuffed-up condition, I did not really like the idea that the funny red egg might escape from me and in the end landing on the pretty stone floor of the restaurant and happily whirring around.

I washed down the last glibbery little creature with a less ladylike big sip of white wine and surrendered to what inevitably happened to me, because my counterpart, shortly before the main course came, understood it so virtuously to drive me on the emotional excitement scale up, to catapult me, , so that I also came and this with such a penetrating violence that I almost slipped from the bench I was sitting on, or actually at that time was rather sliding around on like a randy cat, along with a jaunt of pleasure, which I just could still attenuate in its dramatic volume by pressing my napkin onto the mouth again, which in turn led to short-term breathlessness and mild circulatory insufficiency. 

A short silent silence at our table, but only for three seconds, my companion being full of joy and enthusiasm about his accomplished achievement of remote controlled orgasm donation. And best of all, none of the other guests had noticed. When the waiter brought the second course of food, he looked at me worried, because I still had a certain blush on the face and was slightly, but only slightly, hanging over the table and gasping.

"Is everything Alright Madame" was something wrong with the oysters?

 “All well my dear, they were exquisite and a true orgasm for the tongue” I replied ecstatically to the irritated Maître.

My charming playmate and I let the “motors” on again once more after the main course and before the crème brûlée was served, so that I had already surrendered to another magnificent "Petit Mort".

Excellently fucked and with trembling knees I left the restaurant with the worthy  master of the remote controls at late hour and later the day I rewarded him according to all rules of my art for these slightly different culinary highlights ….

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How I fornicated in Venice.

To start with, Venice is a dream city, apart from the huge number of tourists, the often-wet feet that one inevitably gets, and the slightly clammy condition of any carpeting in the hotels. I felt the invitation of my charming gentleman to accompany him on his culinary tour in Venice as a great privilege and sourced a very special red wine especially for our time.

My journey turned out to be a little bit chaotic (not surprisingly). Regardless of the fact that I had to change airplane twice from Berlin and eagerly looking at the baggage claim at the arrival, which apparently didn't want to spit out my small golden suitcase,  I was already preparing in my mind for a stay with the sparse contents of my handbag only, which contained not much more than a toothbrush, skin cream and a brush, and for reduced options with respect to what I might  wear in the next 48 hours.

After a percieved eternity my little suitcase jerked over the luggage belt and I was a quite relieved that I would not have to improvise with the meagre belongings in my handbag.

When leaving the airport building in hurry, the question instantly arose to me, either to take a share water taxi to Venice, thereby standing in intimate contact with members of  a Chinese travel group, or to choose a somewhat more exclusive variant, i.e. a movie-like transport by means of an elegant wooden motorboat.

I preferred the latter. One should know at this point that it is not always a good idea to take a seat in an unroofed or unsheltered area, if a vibrant driver is at an even more vibrant speed with his motorboat and rushes through the sea, so to speak flying above the waves. Well, I neither went overboard, nor suffered a disc prolaspe, but a huge water spot spread on my jeans in a rather critical region, namely in my lap... Half wet, the hair lacking proper condition despite the well-known hairspray advertisement, I optically probably resembled rather a wet dog and I waddled towards St. Mark's Square, because that was our meeting place.

There I was, standing in my somewhat messed up state, waiting for my charming gentleman. You're wondering why we didn't meet right at the hotel. Joaaah, I asked myself the same question at this point at the latest, as I would have had the opportunity to at least briefly visit private rooms there in the lobby, change my trousers and straighten my hair. But well, now it was just as it was, I was in the middle of the crowded St Mark's Square in a vivid mass of people and my only clues as to what the gentleman looks like were glasses, dark hair, beige trousers and white shirt. Just like about another maybe hundred gentlemen strolling across the square.

While I thought about the fact that selecting such a meeting point was quite challenging by the gentleman, I felt a shy tap on my shoulder. As I turned around, a man resembling the epitome of the California Sunny Boy beamed at me with a broad, highly sympathetic grin. After a warm cuddle a sensual kiss followed, as if we were two lovers who hadn't seen each other for a long time.

I think in Venice you can't kiss any other way than just like that, even if you don't know each other yet.

After this very sensual greeting in the public, the gentleman led me to the advised scene of the coming passionate hours. The hotel was, as expected, located directly on the waterfront and one of the best in Venice. And, as I later found out in the glamour press, obviously the house of first choice for various Hollywood celebrities. In the retrospective I find the thought of having fornicated in the same bed as possibly one of my favourite actors quite appealing. But that's just a side note.

Of course, I didn't have to wait long for a first test sequence of the bed, but a certain pent-up anticipation was very aptly discharged onto my décolleté. I efficiently took the opportunity of a short power nap, which overcame my playmate for typical male reasons, for storing my clothes in the antique wardrobe.

The huge terrace with a view to the canal not only attracted my attention, but also inspired me to decant the excellent red wine, just to taste a little sip with this truly magnificent panorama. Speaking of the panorama of Venice, not of my body being in a slightly opened bathrobe and with somewhat disordered hair, blissfully tasting one of the best fermented grapes that I knew at that time.

Still pondering on the terrace, I felt a hug from behind from my still somewhat sleep-drunken companion, who had recovered a little from the first events. As I felt through my bathrobe, specific parts of his body had recovered definitely and poked at the thin fabric I had on my body. I turned around and responded to this joyful emotion that was meant for me with a passionate kiss, which was also reciprocated, wandering from my mouth over my breasts to my navel to... oh yes, where a male tongue (of course also a female) can provoke undreamt-of highlights. Leaning against the terrace wall with my bathrobe now wide open, my right leg stretched on a chair back, I was so virtuously licked to ecstasy that when I came, I gave out a little cry of pleasure.... With trembling knees, I pulled my pleasure donor into the privacy of our suite, only to dress his bulging cock properly and to take him astride deep into me and to lead him with swaying and realy slow movements to the eruptive  finale.

The ritual washes and the associated restoration measures were carried out together under the shower. It was about time, my lover said, to bring the energy balance back up to an efficient level in the form of a dinner.

Did you know that in Venice it is possible to indulge in exquisite gluttony? If not, then you know it now. This only requires a top-class restaurant, which, due to its manageable size of less than 8 tables, guarantees a special closeness to the benevolent chef, who even comes up with further wonderful creations from his kitchen after the 6th course. It is worth mentioning that the sommelier was of similar excellence. Only around 11 p.m. we left this place of delicacies with the brave intention to walk back to where we had planned to continue rumpling up the sheets.

The fact that the bridges, which are found in Venice in an inflationary number, all look the same at some point is not really helpful if one wants to find the way to the hotel in the dark and through the numerous alleys. And so, you can't easily tell the difference between the locals and others who are wandering around with similar orientation problems. At some point, however, we reached our goal. The advantage of an unexpected night walk through the nocturnal city had a positive side effect, namely the tiring digestive coma of the culinary delights of the last hours had vanished for both of us, so that we could enjoy the charm of indecency once again by lifting my dress, presenting not only my rear view but also my non-existing panties and my strapped legs. What followed was a tender and deeply intimate act of eroticism until the early morning. An act, passionately sensual, which was just like our first kiss, as if we knew each other, known for a long time, perhaps from another life, who knows. And so, we fell asleep, two lovers in Venice, the city in which I had enjoyed excellent fornication according to all the rules of art.

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