lengthen, El Gallo's prick had the marvellous ability to expand its breadth so that, as he drew it out or put it in, the friction was increased a hundredfold.
It was no wonder that La Tarantula was unable to hold the second coming. Almost immediately, before she was aware of the fact that she was to experience the second orgasm, the plasm within her burst its floodgates. But, marvel of marvels, she found that, despite her inability to hold herself, he too had come in her. So it didn't matter when she came. He could control himself to come with her. And that was the beauty of it all. To come together, to feel the fluxing of the life fluids, to sense the slow melting together of bodies-all of that was present with them.
Later, the novelty of his wonders having worn off, she discovered that she was better able to control herself. But, no matter how long she held her spending, he was ever at her heels spending when she spent, sighing when she sighed, breathing in the fire of her nostrils, joining them together like no man or woman had ever been joined before.
'Where have you been all my life?' she breathed into his ear, playfully biting the lobe.
'I have been seeking for you,' he replied, 'but from now on, you shall find me only in one place!'
'And that is…?' she asked shyly, although she knew.
'In the confines of your hot, palpitating, quivering, trepidating, effervescing, pulsating, beating cunt!' he replied. And, to emphasize his statement all the more, he willed his prick right before her eyes to become hard, without physical manipulation. The sight of this feat sent a delicious shiver through her. She felt herself stirred again, the fourth time by him in one hour. She spread her legs wide for his entrance. He gazed in and saw the swelling of the lips, the steady rising of the clitoris, the quivering, quaking, convulsive rhythm of the flesh anxiously awaiting the contact of his own fluctuating tool. He held off a while, tormenting her. But, out of desperation, and not knowing what she was doing, La Tarantula assed her way closer to him, until she felt the touch of the head of his prick. She could control herself no longer, woman that she was, and she burst out into a severe fit of weeping.
Something in the man went weak on him. With a fervour such as he had not shown the whole night, he edged his cock up into the mouth of her cunt, rubbing up against the hardened clitoris on purpose before effecting an entire entree. She still wept. In and out he sent the thing rampaging, sinking it as far in as he could possibly place it and, as he had done previously, expanding the width so that every thrust was delicious torment to her. Before she knew what she was doing, the last tear had been wept. Weeping was forgotten. There was fucking to do.
That was more important.
This time, she was determined that she would hold her spending as long as he could. And so, resolutely, she tried to keep herself calm and collected, not even co-operating with him by wagging her hips and working his cock deeper into her cunt with contortions. Even when his fingers searched every part of her body, caressing them under their nervous tips, she managed to hold herself although she realized that there was nothing that she wanted to do more at that particular time than to let herself go. But she was determined that she would give him as much pleasure as he was giving her. And so she held herself, clenching her fists tightly so that her fingernails sank into the flesh of her palms and moaning in actual pain. Faster and faster his motions became. He thought that he was not doing enough to bring her around.
And so he worked all the harder, sweating under the added exertion that he was putting into his work, kissing her all over the face and on the breasts and in her hair, doing everything possible and in exaggerated degree in order to sense those reactions in her which told him that she had reached her passion's peak and she was just about ready to blow. But still no sign came. He looked down anxiously into her face. Just at the same time, La Tarantula opened her eyes and saw him look down anxiously. She read the unspoken question in his eyes and despite her suffering, she smiled up at him.
Then it was that he realized that she was holding herself in for him. She was trying to repay him in his own coin. And, throwing his arms around her in a great bear hug, he sank his face into her hair and wept, wept because he had finally discovered the woman with whom he would be able to live the rest of his life.
His tears affected her. Never before had she seen a strong man weep.
But the wonder of it was that he was weeping because of a little thing that she was doing for him.
But she could hold herself no longer.
The piston-like prick burned the sides of her cunt. The bubbling of her vital essences in her loins became an effervescent cauldron. A furore of passion came over her, seeping into every nook and cranny of her receptive body. Paroxysms of emotion swept through her in devastating waves, each of which left her weak yet raring to go again.
A rampant, clamorous, tempestuous, irrepressible volcano, simmering in its incipient deluge of lava fire, shook her.
Then the bottom dropped away from her.
And she came beautifully.
He came beautifully in her.
The pearly fluids met and flowed together. And in the amalgamation of their physical fluxing, there grew the more lasting conjointure of their spiritual joining. Each knew that they were meant for each other.
That the river had found its final harbour.
As they sank back exhausted, El Gallo took hold of La Tarantula's hand and reverently kissed her fingers.
That night they fucked fifteen times.
La Tarantula discovered that the three testicles of El Gallo were more than a myth. They were more than fact. They were all of truth bound up into the compass of one ball-sac.
They were her world.
CHAPTER FIVE
At eleven o'clock that night they were awakened by a pounding on the door. Hilarious voices came to them from the hallway. 'Open up! open!' they heard. And when the door was opened, Zurito the picador and all the other pics and banderilleros tumbled into the room in all stages of intoxication, all hugging some wench they had picked up in the cafe downstairs.
'We are going to see the bulls!' Zurito cried out, 'are you with us, El Gallo?'
'Perro!' the matador cursed, 'get out of this room before I kill you all!'
But La Tarantula had already leaped out of the bed and was adjusting her headdress. 'No! we shall go, too, El Gallo! I want to see the great bulls that my El Gallo is going to kill tomorrow at the bullfight!'
El Gallo's face dropped. He had wanted to remain the night with his newly found love. But the others were too drunkenly insistent that he accompany them. Besides, La Tarantula was also desirous of going with them. 'I shall go if you shall promise to appear tomorrow at the ring to see me kill them,' he cried.
La Tarantula gaily promised. Then, locking her arms in El Gallo's elbow, she pushed at the roistering company. 'Come! to the bulls!' she cried.
'To the bulls!' the others all screamed as they turned and exited down the steps and through the cafe, some of them seizing bottles of wine and aguardiente from the tables and waving them in their hands and lurching drunkenly out into the Calle de la Serpiente, their arms around their girls.
The night had been quiet before they came out into it. But they bruised the silence with their shrieks and cries and ribald songs. Down the entire length of the street they went, on past the barracks, past the brewery, past the jailhouse, until they came to the Guadalquivir river.
There, in a number of boats, they were ferried across the river to the Triana section, La Tarantula's birthplace, in which the Plaza de los Toros, the place of the bulls, was located. On past the Plaza they lurched, until they came to a rustic spot in the outskirts of the section. It was the farm where the bulls for the next day's fight were being taken care of. Here, the aficionados, the bullfight enthusiasts, gather the day before the bullfight to comment on the bulls to be killed the next day.
Most of them go there to talk to the bulls, calling huh! huh! huh! to them and imagining that, because the bull widened his nostrils and jerked his head toward the speaker, he had held conversation with him.
