My best friend, Sally is a travel agent. Occasionally she gets free travel tickets, but I can never seem to get away time from work. But when she offered a trip to sunny Spain how could I refuse? I put in for my one-week vacation time and off we went. Sally is really a lot of fun to be around and we've gotten in trouble on more than one occasion so I knew this trip would be a riot.

We arrived in Barcelona and it was everything that I had imagined. We relaxed the first day and decided to plan our sightseeing itinerary. Sally came running into our room waving tickets the hotel manager had given her.

They were for the afternoon bullfight. "Yuck" I said. "I think I'd rather go shopping than watch a bull get chased around the ring." But she pleaded and said that the manager promised it would be fun. Reluctantly I agreed to go with her.

We took our front row seats as I looked around the crowd. The large number of women in the stands surprised me. I thought this was a guy thing. As the matadors entered the ring I knew why. These guys are mucho cliente!

With their tight black stretch pants, puffy white shirts and red capes there was something very sexy and daring about these brave Latin men. A chill of excitement ran down my spine as everyone stood and cheered as the star matador entered the ring.

As he walked around the ring everyone threw flowers to him. For some reason he stopped in front of our booth and we made eye contact. He bent over picked up a single rose from the field and handed it to me. I put it between my teeth and continued cheering while he walked to the center of the arena.

A man sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder, "You are very lucky seniorita. Jose de Marcus has chosen you. He will fight the bull in your honor!" Wow I thought. Now I was totally into this whole bull-fighting thing. The big giant of a bull was released from its pen and came out snorting mad.

Jose walked defiantly unconcerned in the face of this perilous danger and waved to the crowd. The bull circled the field several times eyeing his opponent. The time of truth had arrived. Jose swirled his big red cape in an open invitation. The bull accepted, dug his hooves into the ground repeatedly and then charged like a freight train towards the matador.

It looked like Jose would surely die as the large beast pointed his horns and aimed running at full speed. Only an inch away from certain death, Jose pulled his cape into the air as the bull missed and ran right past him. The crowd went crazy and Jose took a bow.

I thought I would gush right there in my seat. This continued for on for almost an hour. Each time he escaped unscathed and remained the people's hero. The cheering only stopped when the bull caught Jose off guard and caught a horn into his side and tossed him to the ground.

I felt horrible because it was my fault. I had called out to him at the last moment before the bull charged. Jose looked up at me and smiled back. The bull had caught him off guard. But he jumped up and bravely continued the fight and soon finished the battle.

He pranced around the ring in triumph and again stopped in front of my booth as the crowd went wild. The man sitting behind me said, "You must now blow him a kiss. He won the fight for you." I blew him a kiss; he bowed, and then limped off the field.

I knew I would never see him again but I would always keep that rose. Later that night Sally and I went out for cocktails and tapas at the local's favorite tapa bar. Being single women we were surrounded by gorgeous Spanish men. But they all disappeared from view when my eye caught that soul-stirring gaze limping towards me.

As he walked through the crowd toward me everyone patted him on the back. He said "I almost died today because of you. What is your name?" I told him and said I was sorry and asked if he was all right. He took my hand and kissed it. In a romantic voice he declared, "I will live to fight another day my beautiful rose. Join me for a carriage ride around the city." I declined stating that I was here with a friend.

He pointed to Sally who by now had two men with their arms around her, "Your friend is doing very well by herself."

As the horse pulled the carriage around the cities shoreline we made small talk. His English was good but his intentions were even better. He had another conquest to put under his belt on this day and I was more than willing. He hotly kissed the curve of my neck over and over. He spoke something in Spanish to the driver and off we went into the night.

We arrived at his villa and were soon undressing in his bedroom. I stood naked and alluring in front of him. Slowly he slid his big rough hand down my chest and I held my breath as he cupped my breast in the palm of his hand. I let out a moan from deep inside.

He held me in his arms and we walked towards the bed. I lay waiting as he explored every inch of me. He opened my legs and dampened me with the tip of his tongue. Soon his magnificently sculptured body was over mine.

I could feel his strength and animal power. I inhaled his masculine scent. I could see his black hair and taste his skin as I ran my tongue across his shaven face. I let him enter me as I took a final gasp for air. With calculated abandon he rocked me from side to side as my legs dangled from his shoulders.

I have never been filled so completely. Every thrusting move gave me estactic pleasure. Jose the bull would not stop. His performance was going to rival that of his spectacular victory in the ring.

I rode my waves of unrelenting pleasure one by one as each mounted in intensity I called his name, "Jose, Jose". I felt him groan in savage pleasure and triumph in a shuddering final stoke of climatic eruption. Ole!

It was the best week of my life. I still have the dried rose pinned to my cubicle at work as a horny reminder of Matador Jose de Marcus. Every time the phone rings I hope that it's Sally with more tickets to another romantic destination.

 The End