Chapter 4

Sometimes there is little difference between exotic and erotic.

I was in Spain with my parents but from time to time, they wanted time to themselves, and I was happy to wander off exploring or browsing in the shops, bars and clubs, meeting people, chatting, eating and drinking etc.

On occasion, I would attract the attention of men.

To be precise, if I went to populated areas, it was quite on the cards at some chap or group of chaps even would gravitate into my vicinity and strike up a conversation. There were even times when I had settled in some isolated spot, far from the crowds and men would somehow appear out of the woodwork.

On one occasion in Torremolinos, I met up with a group of girls from my home town when some guy wearing a rugby shirt emblazoned with the Welsh Dragon and the name of a small village I had visited on a few occasions. suddenly appeared among us asking how I was enjoying my holiday.

This time, I was the initiator when I spotted another, older man, sitting nearby, also wearing a rugby shirt emblazoned with the Welsh Dragon and the name of the small village.

I greeted him in Welsh, adding that the greeting was close to my knowledge of the language. He faced me with a huge grin and a string of Welsh which, although I couldn’t fully follow, I recognised enough words to know he was complimenting my looks. It all seemed quite harmless at the time as he was old enough to be my father, if not my grandfather. His name was Ted and he did look like a big teddy bear but when he stood up he towered over me and, though benign, looked more like a giant grizzly bear as seen in North America. I pitied his former opponents on the rugby field when his handshake caused my hand to disappear into something the size of a baseball catcher’s mitt. The first guy took no offense at my focus of attention but an arm around my shoulders in familiar fashion.

We began chatting and Ted invited me to sit with him at the pavement tables of the and he ordered drinks for us, including hap number one who was called named Chris. They were on a summer tour with a small rugby club although he hastened to add that his own playing days were behind him.

Every few years, the secretaries of several small Spanish clubs would arrange for a summer tour of the Welsh club consisting of a handful of matches against the seniors of several Spanish clubs, usually ending with a combined Spanish side at the stadium of one of the larger clubs, publicised locally as Spain v Wales (Granddads).

Ted asked if I would like to be the club mascot for the tour. I said I assume the goat was unavailable and the two men fell about laughing. He said it was quite serious and there was money for it in the tour budget which meant first class accommodation for the tour. It sounded fun, especially as I like rugby.

I excused myself and moved some distance away and phoned my parents. When I explained, I heard my mother respond with “All those rugby players!” and I explained this was a team of seniors rather than teenagers and I put my phone on video so they could see Ted who dutifully waved to my phone. My father chuckled when i said I would be the team mascot and asked what had happened to the goat. I laughed and told him we had already done that joke.

My father paused for a moment and in a thoughtful voice, told me that they had seen a short trip which included an overnight stay in Morocco, and they would sign up for that while I was away.

I returned to Ted saying I would go but needed to pick up some clothes before setting off.

It was only a short walk and soon we were making our way to the assembly point for the off.

The bus was waiting for us amidst several dozen people milling around chatting excitedly in both Welsh and English. Several men came away from the melee when they saw Ted and began joshing him about his new girlfriend (me!).

The coach was luxurious and one of a fleet owned by the father of one of the players for a prestigious nationally recognised club and a founder (and funder) of the tours of the minor clubs. We had individual televisions, a toilet and food and drink on board.

I wasn’t the only female on board the trip. Two other British girls, both English, had been recruited Helen, possibly in her early twenties and Lynne, about my age was to travel with us. I noticed that all of us were blonde and wondered briefly if that was deliberate or coincidental. As it happened there were 3 coaches with players, team and club officials, local government officers, sponsors’ representatives and so on and the three of us were allocated a bus each.

My coach carried a “youth team” made up of junior players from the various clubs and I found myself seated next to Alan Frazer, Spanish, despite his British name and although much younger than myself, adopted a role of “protector”.

Mistake!

We were seated in the “lounge” area of the bus, thus described by the steward who also wandered back and fore producing free snacks and drinks for those who wanted them. The “lounge” consisted of two bench seats facing each other with a table between them.

Antonio, the steward produced a large bottle, a magnum, of sparkling wine and glasses for Alan and myself and a box of savoury and sweet snacks. Alan quickly demonstrated his abilities with the cork, removing it expertly with a “pop” and no loss of wine.

It had been a long warm day and I gulped down the chilled wine eagerly and Alan swiftly refilled my glass (I say “glass”, it was a rather large plastic tumbler but the wine tasted no worse for all that and I quaffed several glasses in quick succession. Within half an hour, I was distinctly tipsy and laughing at Alan’s jokes, even when he lapsed into Spanish.

A couple of other youngsters had joined us in the lounge with several more bottles of wine and snacks. They were chanting something like “dale un beso, Alan”. Which I think roughly translates into “Give her a kiss, Alan”. Antonio, the steward was standing behind the seat opposite me, grinning broadly. I asked him what the boys were saying, and he told me “Take her to bed, Alan!”

I shouldn’t have laughed.

Alan pulled me towards him a kissed me long and deep. He wasn’t rough and after briefly coming up for air, planted his mouth back on mine, his tongue probing my mouth sensually; his hands gliding over my body and unknown to me, releasing my few clothing fastenings while the others cheered him on.

His mouth dropped from my mouth to my naked breasts but I was unable to see the expressions on the faces of the other boy as my eyes were clenched shut as his treatment of my nipples sent waves of pleasure through my body. I stiffened when his fingers slid past my panties and explored my sex.

I was only partially aware that my panties were being removed and lost any concerns about it when his mouth clamped down on my pussy, his tongue now squirming inside me like a snake. Many hands explored my naked flesh which writhed in recognition of the attention it was receiving.

Something fleshy prodded my lips which opened unresisting to receive a generous portion of penis and I began to suck and lick without even thinking about it.

Alan’s mouth, in the meantime, was replaced by a larger than expected penis and he began pumping me eagerly. The hands, many hands stroked and sought out the sensitive flesh while the two penetrating me thrust in and out with gusto. My belly bucked as an orgasm spasmed through my belly, clamping my sex to Alan’s flesh in my loins.

The boy in my mouth gave just a few thrusts into my throat and after just a few minutes he was spurting large quantities of youthful cum down my throat. Through half closed eyes I saw his still stiff rod slither out to be replaced seconds later by a black one. There were 5 boys in all, waving their buttocks at the passing Spanish countryside as they exploited my body. I had new riders top and bottom as willing flesh submitted to two new and unknown weapons of mass production.

I had consumed too much wine and despite another writhing orgasm, I confess that I nodded off while the boys spent the nectar of their youth in my mouth and pussy.

When I woke, I was being gently fucked by Antonio.

Despite my recent activity, I was powerless to stop my legs curling around his pumping buttocks, pulling him deep into me as he shook in his final throes of orgasm, a torrent of jism flooding my womb.

Hr grinned, kissed me gently and slipped quickly out of sight. The effects of the wine had disappeared and, still naked, I stretched luxuriously on the now empty bench seat. I then slowly donned my clothes aware that one or two of the men at the back of the bus were standing to watch.

By now, in swiftly descending darkness, the three coaches pulled up at a large building in its own extensive grounds and we all began to disembark to collect our luggage.

A hand tugged my arm as I stood on the fringe of the crowd which had gathered around the voluminous compartment under our coach where the luggage was kept in transit. It was the black boy who was one of those that had mounted me at the back of the bus. He grinned, his teeth white, in the darkness and held up my bag triumphantly so I followed him when he turned towards the building behind us.

There were dim lights inside but someone must have flicked a switch because the interior and the forecourt was suddenly lit up, inside, by several huge crystal chandeliers as we trouped inside the double glass doors into a huge vestibule decked out in marble, several busts of unknown persons in niches around the walls with huge doors leading off to the side with a huge marble and gilded wrought iron staircase leading up to another level.

I had initially thought we had arrived at a hotel or even a school on disembarking the coach. I now discovered it was the “Palacio” of some Spanish Duke, a wealthy sponsor of sport in the region. As we gazed around in awe at the gleaming décor of the vestibule, the man himself appeared through one of the massive doors to the side and began circulating among the players, officials and support staff, eventually stopping in front of we three girls, now united in a sea of men which failed to detract from size of the vestibule.

He was probably in his late fifties but looked fit apart from a little weight on his belly. His hair was silver, and he had a matching beard and moustache, trimmed neatly and he was wearing a silver grey suit and a cravat held with a large gleaming stone.

He was accompanied by two younger men, both dressed in white dinner jackets and black trousers. That they were his sons might just as well have been tattooed on their foreheads, such was the familial resemblance.

One of the officials accompanying the tour appeared alongside the three men and introduced everyone to each other, unfortunately in Spanish which I was of course unable to follow.

He turned to me and gave me, a brief account of his introductions. He also explained that the main party would be going for their evening meal in the main hall; and as, these had tended to be a little loud and boisterous in the past, the three ladies would join the Duke and his sons in the family dining room. I looked at the other two girls and they gave almost imperceptible shrugs and we simply smiled a reply in response.

The Duke told us to call him Diego while his sons were Luis and Carlos. There was a decorous kissing of our hands as we were introduced, and they were amused at my name “Mo”. and Helen asked me in a whisper “Who will be landed with the old man?”.

Several staff appeared and began to shepherd the assembly through another huge door while the Duke and his sons looped arms with us girls an led us back through the door they had come through. I caught Helen’s eye and looked down at the Duke’s arm through mine and she nodded imperceptibly.

The dining room was amazing with gleaming white crockery bearing a discrete gold crest, crystal flashing with the light from a huge chandelier above, lines of silver cutlery placed to the millimetre around the place settings.

We were led to the table and given hot damp towels o refresh ourselves, a waitress taking the towels away after use while the three of us immediately grabbed our handbags, pulling out mirrors to check our makeup. The men watched this little interlude with some amusement and chat amongst themselves.

All finished, the Duke tapped a small bell in front of him and the first of what seemed an unending sequence of courses began while a waiter hovered with what appeared to be a bottomless bottle.

I was hungry and thirsty and tucked into the food and wine with considerable enthusiasm.

Small amuse bouches appeared between courses as fish followed soup, a small salad preceded a portion of pigeon or pheasant, a small dish of shrimp in a divine sauce was followed by a lamb chop and some vegetables. It continued into two or three sweet courses, all had been accompanied by red wine, white wine, liqueurs and spirits.

I was only a little befuddled but failed to notice that Helen and Lynne had been escorted out of the dining room at different times by the sons. Several waitresses moved around the table clearing away while the Duke had pulled his chair closer to mine and poured an expensive cognac into a glass and passed it to me.

Taking my arm, he led me across the room where a part of the wall opened revealing a secret door. Of course the other room contained a large bed and I moved with him and sat on the edge still sipping my cognac. Another man was with us and I giggled when he started to remove my clothes, the Duke sitting in a chair nearby watching the proceedings.

When I was naked, the man poured another measure of cognac into my glass. Then taking my hand rotated me slowly in front of the Duke before removing the cognac and moving me gently back to the bed and spreading my legs.

I lay down gratefully as my head was swimming a little.

A naked Duke, sporting an immense erection, suddenly blotted out my view and I gasped as his immensity sank into a moist andvagina. I hung on to his body like grim death as he pounded pussy and seemingly growing in me as he did so. I glanced to one side to see a third man filming us a little distance away.

The Duke had slowed down and I thought he was probably tiring when he said something in Spanish and the second guy came up to my head and fed his erection into my mouth. The third man was still filming and chuckled wickedly as he pushed even further into my belly.

Time passed and they kept up the action until the man in my mouth slid out without ejaculating. Another penis appeared before my eyes and it was one of his sons. He grunted as he pushed almost into my throat, His father, still a massive intrusion down below thrusting long after I would have expected him to fall off me.

I was suddenly gripped by several pairs of hands and rotated. I found the Duke underneath, still actively buried in me while the son knelt in front pulling my mouth onto his throbbing meat.

Another pair of hand parted my buttocks and a third penis penetrated my body, this time my bottom. The three of them chatted back and fore, I said nothing as I had my mouth full.

The Duke roared as his cock exploded into me. As if timed, the two sons climaxed together just a few minutes later. I felt the flood in my bowels and swallowed desperately to avoid drowning as more cum streamed down my throat.

As the three moved away, I saw the filmmaker was working to the very end and came in next to the bed to record my naked body in closeup. I fell asleep where I was.

The following morning, I was still on the bed, my bag on a chair nearby and sunlight streaming through the windows.

There was a bathroom ensuite and I showered and got myself in some shape. A girl come in and asked if I would like to go for breakfast. I was ravenous and followed her off to a large hall where the rest of the party were drifting in to tuck into plates of bread, cheese, cold meats, eggs and sausages.

Helen and Lynne were there and I went over to them followed by a waitress with my heavily laden tray.

At first the chat was of the “Nice day out there this morning” type until I asked “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”.