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His kiss is a natural progression. It starts soft and dry, and then, slowly, he slips his tongue between my lips and begins exploring my mouth and gently nibbling, probing, wanting to know me. I feel a surge of desire between my legs and a seeping wetness. He kisses me again, the soft stubble of his chin scuffing my lips. He tastes of red wine and seafood and olive oil. I kiss him back urgently, growing more confident and passionate by the second. In response, his hands travel up my thighs and, with smooth and nimble fingers, he grasps the waistband of my panties and slides them down my legs in a fluid, sexy motion, all of this while we are both still moving in rhythm with the music. Then his hands move to my breasts, pulling my dress down so that my nipples are exposed. My pale skin shines in the moonlight, but my pink nipples harden and darken as he strokes my breasts, my neck, my shoulders. I unbutton his shirt with trembling hands, desperate to feel his skin against mine. When my breasts press against his chest, the heat from his body warms me and shoots bolts of pleasure through my veins. Still we sway together in time to the music, in no rush, content to enjoy the sensation of my budding breasts rubbing against his skin, the light dusting of hair on his chest creating a delicious friction between our two bodies.

Then his hand is flat and motionless against my pussy. His palm gently undulates, subtly stimulating my pudenda, causing a warm trickle of liquid to ooze out of my pussy and pool in his hand. Inserting a fingertip between my yearning pussy lips, he spreads my natural lubricant all over my clitoris, fondling and stroking with a movement as smooth as his dancing. I'm pumping hard now, my clit and pussy throbbing, a beat so loud and insistent I'm surprised it doesn't drown out the music and the crowds.

I free his buckle and thread his Spanish leather belt through the loops of his jeans, unbutton his fly, release the cock that is straining against the worn denim. I see it in the pale light: beautiful, young, hard, mine. It is smooth, the same olive brown as the rest of him, and trembling with anticipation, a fat tear of pre-cum oozing from its tip.

He continues using the juices from my pussy to smoothly circle my clit until he's sure I'm ready. When he slips a thumb into my convulsing cunt, I nod, answering his unspoken question. Responding to my growing need, he slides his cock into me very slowly, filling me up again, and again, and again, pulling out to penetrate me anew. I dig my fingers into his buttocks, urging him to go deeper and deeper and deeper, feeling the length of him inside me. The base of his dick is right where I need it to be, rubbing away at my clitoris. I can feel something delicious bubbling up inside me. It's a new feeling, and I know I'm about to experience my first orgasm. All the while, he's kissing me softly and doing everything as slowly as he can. I close my eyes, dizzy with pleasure, letting my body go and allowing him to lead. I feel him tense and know that he's coming, and as the base of his dick grinds hard into my clit, a rush of pleasure comes from nowhere and turns my body into a series of warm, wet peaks of pleasure. My orgasm is an eruption that makes me cry out in joy and sweet relief. I have never known such intense bliss. I had no idea that I was capable of feeling something so beautiful. A tear of joy splashes down my cheek and onto my exposed breast. My dancing partner kisses the salty droplet on my nipple, slides his lips and tongue upward, chasing the track of my tear, planting a dry, tender kiss on my cheekbone and then another on my smiling lips. We move together and dance while he's still inside me, letting his spunk trickle down my legs, his dick contracting, our mouths lazily exploring each other.

The first pink light of dawn pierces the sky, bathing the courtyard in a rosy glow. At the same time, the music from the square comes to an abrupt end. The disappointed roar of the crowd confirms that the party is over. My dancing partner peels his body away from mine and uses my panties to mop up the liquid that trickles down my inner thighs. With a wink, he rolls up the sopping cotton bundle and puts it in his pocket. I kiss him one more time, and then I'm gone, through the gate, staggering the thirty meters back to my hotel. In my bed, I lie awake for an hour, thrilled, grateful, and happy, until finally I drift off to sleep.

Lara's hour of passion with Paco must have gone on longer than she expected, because it's nine a.m. when she bursts into the room, waking me up, babbling excitedly about Paco's prowess between the sheets. She jumps in the shower and is still talking as she dries herself and clambers into bed.

"Oh, Helen, I wish you'd met someone," she says. "You could have so much fun if you just loosened up a bit."