Spending the day with Mr. Crofton

I woke as the catering staff brought in breakfast half an hour before we arrived in Barcelona. It was like waking from one of those hyper realistic dreams where you don't know what is real and what is not. I sat up and there was Mr. Crofton, sitting there relaxed, spreading butter on a bagel. I felt strange almost hoping that my adventures of last night had just been a weird wet dream but as I rummaged through my backpack for my T-shirt I saw the 200 Euros and knew that everything was real. It made me blush again and I quickly dressed completely to leave as soon as the train would stop. There was a second tray with breakfast on the seat next to me which was strange since I haven't ordered any. As I looked over Mr. Crofton gestured with his butter knife to the tray and mumbled with his mouth half full.

"Breakfast is on me, Martin. So tell me what are you up to in Barcelona?"

"Erm...thanks..." I said pulling the tray to my lap and examining the food. "I....erm.....am going to meet my girlfriend" I finished the sentence.

Mr. Crofton raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? Is she hot?"

I confirmed that she is and he followed up with questions about how we met, where she worked, where and when I would meet her and I just told him everything. Maria was working as a waitress at one of those busy tourist restaurants. She would work all day but we were going to meet in the evening. Mr. Crofton also wanted to know where I stayed and I had to tell him that Maria and I were just meeting for the first time in real life and therefore I didn't invite me over to stay at her tiny apartment but rather booked into a youth hostel. Mr. Crofton laughed at that and said "No way are you staying at a filthy youth hostel Martin! You come with me to my place. I saw your potential right away. Would be wasted letting you get away so soon."

I didn't particularly like the sound of that statement but my little friend in my pants twitched excitedly and seemed to see things different. "I....I can't...I have already booked and payed...and Maria is going to meet me in the evening close to the hostel. I cannot be late to that..." My voice trailed off as Mr. Crofton just continued to shake his head at everything I said.

"No, no, no. You do as I say. You will meet your Maria, don't you worry but until then there is still time to have a good day. I refund you your lousy hostel no problem. Just trust me and stop pretending you didn't enjoy my company." I didn't reply to that and so he took it as confirmation that I would continue to do as he commands.

After our breakfast the train arrived and we got onto the platform. Mr. Crofton shoved his trolley into my arms and I carried his luggage while he strolled towards the exit. A big black limo was waiting right at the pick-up zone outside the station. Next to the car stood a tall black woman in her twenties in a thight gray business outfit holding a tablet. She had dark brown shiny skin and was very beautiful. Almost a head taler than I was and quite athletic. Her curly hair was restricted to a tight bun at the back of her head and she wore black rimmed glasses. As she saw Mr. Crofton a smile broke out on her face revealing a line of perfectly white teeth. "Mr. Crofton! How was your trip. Sorry we couldn't get any flight any more yesterday. I hope it was not too uncomfortable?"

"It was an unexpected very pleasurable train ride" he said, looking me up and down quite obviously making me blush again. The black lady also glanced over to me standing there in my wrinkly t-shirt and my loose cargo pants and with a seemingly knowing smile she gave a short nod.

Mr. Crofton introduced us and I learned that her name was Nkhala and that she was Mr. Crofton's personal assistant. I packed his luggage into the limo and we all got inside. Mr. Crofton took the seat next to me and Nkhala sat across from us. On our ride to the outskirts of the city Mr. Crofton and Nkhala discussed a lot of business details which she had prepared on her tablet. I didn't understand any of it but rather tried to not blush permanently as Mr. Crofton casually caressed my knee and thigh while talking business with his assistant. She clearly saw that he was fumbling with my leg and reaching towards my crotch again and again, but she just continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I wondered if Mr. Crofton often did this in front of his employee or If she was just to professional to react. The conversation between those two was getting more and more boring as they exchanged numbers of stocks and financial reports but even if I had been able to understand any of it, I would have been utterly distracted by Mr. Crofton's meaty palm rhythmically massaging my crotch until my dick got so hard that it hitched a tent in my cargo pants. From time to time Nkhala glanced over but most of the time she just stayed focused on the work. Again this was promising to be a really weird day and we hadn't even arrived.