The most Spanish city in Spain is neither Madrid, nor Barcelona, but Seville in Andalusia, a place full of sunshine and pasión, history and historias. When you are in Seville, do not forget to take a walk in the Plaza de España at sunset. Only at this time of the day, the south-facing Plaza would be painted orange by the warm setting sun. When standing at the centre of the Plaza, you try to take a photo of the whole building with your wide-angle-lensed DSLR but only to find that you cannot, and you will be amazed by the grandeur of the imperial glory of the past. If you are lucky, you would see bailaors dancing in the corridor of the main building, and you definitely should not miss watching them.

Pedro stood in the crowd of people who were attracted by the flamenco performance. He wore a caramel short-sleeved shirt, his skin sun-tanned, and body toned. There was a cross of the Order of Christ hanging on his neck, its redness so prominent that as if to point out to every passer-by that how sexy his chest cleavage was. If such a young and beautiful appearance was not sufficient to gain people's attention, then the dark-brown pony tail and the beauty spot under his right eye would make him stand out among others.

However, even though Pedro was such an attractive guy, it seemed that nobody in the crowd had time to notice him, for down the sun-basking corridor, a young bailaor had already caught everyone's attention. The dancer had dark-brown short hair, and wore a ruffled scarlet wide-sleeve shirt and black skinny pants. Holding a red carnation in mouth, he danced to the rhythm of flamenco on a wooden slab placing on the floor. The quicker the rhythm went up, the more strength his foot tapping gained, and the more radiance his smile shone.

"Yo quiero

Vivir solamente de amor

Solo por amor

(I want to

Live only for love

Just for love)"

As he was singing, he saw among the audience a young man looking exactly the same as him. His bright green eyes began to look as crystalline as the blue River Tagus, a touch of blush mounted his face, and his sunny smile shew some shyness of the chaste Artemis. Just like the reflection of Narcissus on the lake surface, Pedro in the crowd also shew the same expression as the young bailaor's. I want to live only for love, just for love, only if I could, Pedro thought.

Pedro usually had many things to think of, but he was not keen to express them. If he encountered something peculiar during the day, he would continue thinking about it till night, but he would not say it out loud. Today, he had been thinking about Antonio, but did not search for him at the Plaza until the sun began to set. He had been wanting to see Antonio, but before that he had thought of many, many things. He thought-which mattered him most-that if he got too close to Antonio, they might end up badly just like long ago.

"De Espanha, nem bom vento, nem bom casamento." As the Portuguese saying goes, "from Spain there is never a good wind or a good marriage." Last time when he got close to Antonio was in the year of 1580. On that day, he had been attracted by Antonio's baile just like today, and they had spent a wonderful night together in Antonio's bedroom. However, when he woke up on the next day, he found that he was under control-he had became a satellite nation of the greatest empire in the world.

Pedro had suffered too much under the sixty-year rule by Antonio, and he had learned enough lesson that he should always keep distance from Antonio. However, unexpectedly, on a holiday in Ceuta, he had kissed the person who had brought him lots of misfortunes. "Love is a rebellious bird that none can tame; if I can't love you, then I love you!"

Pedro shook his head. As soon as the music stopped, he turned around to leave.

"Espera, Pedro." He heard his voice calling himself in Spanish.

Pedro had to stop and turn back. The red carnation was presented to him.

"I want to make love with you." Antonio said sincerely, his eyes big and bright.

Pedro looked at the person who looked exactly like himself, and even smelled the same scent.

"Claro." He accepted the flower that Antonio gave him.

The Spanish always know how to enjoy life well, and it is not difficult to find a comfortable and romantic place to stay in Seville. This night, Antonio brought Pedro to a hotel lodge on the outskirts of the city, where they stayed in a two-storey cottage. Glasses of wine in hands, they stood shoulder by shoulder, leaning against a fence of the courtyard, while looking up the Milky Way shining brightly in the summer night sky.

"Oh I almost forgot! I have bought a bottle of champagne from Champagne, France!" Antonio went briskly into the cottage, and bounced back to Pedro with a bottle of champagne in his hand.

"Why champagne? Anything to celebrate?"

"Porque, to celebrate your staying over, of course!" Facing Pedro deliberately, Antonio pulled out the cork to let out streams of white bubbles spilling onto the defenseless Portuguese.

Pedro looked down to see his champagne-soaked shirt, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry. At this moment, Antonio laughed out loud:

"The great seafarer is lost at sea while he is still in the courtyard!"

Pedro took off his wet shirt, and said moodily, "what's the point of laughing? I'll get another bottle for you, and let's see who'll have the last laugh."

But before Pedro could turn on his heel, suddenly, Antonio took off his own shirt too, revealing the same muscular torso just like Pedro's. "Go ahead then, I'm not afraid of getting wet!" Grinning, he opened his arms to Pedro, his chest looking so spectacular and sexy.

Pedro understood well Antonio's invitation, and yet he started to think a lot again: 1. he and Antonio were probably related by blood, but wait, wasn't Antonio's smile sweet and cute? 2. from Spain there is never a good marriage, oh veja, how tight Antonio's belly looked, how attractive his mermaid lines were; 3. getting too close to the Spaniard would cause his death, damn it, Antonio looked so seductive that he wanted to fuck him.

Pedro jumped into Antonio's arms, and kissed ardently the lips which tasted like alcohol.

"Hmmm..." Antonio could not wait to respond to this kiss, and all he wanted was to suck Pedro's mouth for more wine as energy for the love-making battle that was about to come. However, he was not satisfied merely for this. Deep in, he sensed the nuclear power dangling between Pedro's legs, from which the hot, precious liquid of love and life was his ultimate target.

Feeling Antonio's hand fumbling towards the southern part of his body, Pedro reluctantly broke their kiss. Nevertheless, as he held up his head, he saw the light in another cottage far behind Antonio was still on, some children's voices being heard from inside. He grasped Antonio's fumbling hand, and said, "let's get into our cottage."

Antonio did not obey but held up Pedro's seizing hand, put its fingers into his mouth to suck, and it was not until the fingers were all wet that he raised up his head. Bright eyes reflecting the stars above both of them, he whispered, "fuck me, Pedro."

Pedro kissed the Spaniard's forehead. "We're watched."

"No importa."

"Let me take you in." Smiling, Pedro grabbed Antonio by the waist, but the latter had no intention to move at all. Without alternative, he pulled with great efforts the lazy guy who tried to pull back too, but eventually he managed to drag both of them into the house.

Without another word, Pedro pushed Antonio down on a sofa in the hall. Antonio reached out his hand to turn on a floor lamp beside the sofa, and the hall was lit at once with romantic orange light.

"Obrigado," Pedro bent down to unzip Antonio's jeans, but before he could, he noticed that his hardening crotch was pressed by the Castilian with a long finger.

"Let me suck you first." Antonio said seriously.

"I don't need a warm up," smiling, Pedro produced in the face of Antonio a small bottle of lubricant from a pocket of his trousers, "this would be sufficient."

He turned over the young man lying on the sofa to make the latter face down, and slid a hand from the top of Antonio's backbone straight down, until he reached the soft bubble butts. He stroked both of the butts as if kneading the dough. "Yesterday when I saw you dress as a matador, I had thought whether your hips are really soft, and I was right."

Even though he was unable to see Pedro's face, Antonio was sure that the Lusitanian was smirking at him, and he retorted, "aren't your butts the same?"

"Nunca, you and I are much different." Pedro held Antonio's waist up, and took off his jeans in order to proof his words were true. Illuminated by weak lamp light, Antonio's naked buttocks were revealed before Pedro. The Portuguese was surprised that such a proud and masculine former empire could have so tender and pale hips. He felt happy to discover Antonio's fragility. In order to treat Antonio well, he poured out a handful of lubricant from the bottle, and rubbed it in his palms until it became lukewarm. Spreading the two tender butts apart, he slowly probed the tight anus with one of his lubricated fingers.

"Mhmm..." Antonio groaned, "you're gentle, are you afraid of hurting me, Pedro?"

"You're too nervous, you should relax if you're a man." Pedro bent down to the Spaniard's crouching back to embrace him, and rained down several petal-soft kisses on the back of his neck.

"But you're playing the top, are you not?" Antonio blushed.

"If you want me to top you, you have to let me in first." Pedro said in a hoarse voice, and breathed humid breath into Antonio's ear.

"Ahhh..." grasping tightly a blanket on the sofa, the Spaniard panted, and yet was still unable to relax his sphincters. At this moment, Pedro caught one of Antonio's ear with his mouth, and began to lick it with his wet tongue. "Ahhh...!" Such a sensation from his sensitive ear made Antonio's whole body numb, and his anus opened as he cried out.

Pedro advanced into him with more fingers. "Antonio, good boy." Pedro raised up his head slightly to see their progress, and smiled contentedly. Fingers out, trousers unzipped, he brought out his long-been-waiting penis. He did not need any warm up, for as a passionate Iberian, since he had seen Antonio take off the shirt to reveal a naked torso, his penis had already erected, and now he could feel an indistinct pain caused by his swelling passion. He held his cock in his hand to touch Antonio's soft butts, "I'm getting in." Warning briefly, he thrust his hard cock into Antonio's ass.

"Ahhh...!" Excited, Antonio held up his head high to exclaim.

"Mmmm," the Portuguese grinned victoriously, and while holding Antonio's waist with both of his hands, he began to thrust the Spaniard rhythmically.

"Ahhhh...I want...yo deseo..." Antonio grasped the blanket more and more tightly while groaning loudly, saliva dripping from his opening mouth.

"¿Qué deseas?" Pedro teased in Spanish.

"¡Pedro...te deseo!"

"Muy bien, you're really a good boy, I'm going to fuck to you." Bending his body even lower, Pedro thrust himself into Antonio much deeper, and, releasing one of the hands grasping the Castilian's ass, he reached for the long cock spinning under Antonio. "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

"Ahhhhh...quiero...te quiero, Pedro..." caught in Pedro's hand, Antonio tried to struggle by moving his hips more wildly.

Pedro continued thrusting while stroking the Spaniard's cock-he could feel that it had the same big, hot erection as his, and even its texture was the same-he became much confident of controlling Antonio, knowing how to make him reach the climax. The Portuguese conducted the male-male contact in the way of his daily masturbation, which was to slide his fingers from the glans all the way down to the root, and to stroke up and down with rhythms.

"Ohhh...no..." the Spaniard grabbed Pedro's stroking hand, and turned his head around to look at the dominating man behind him, tears in his eyes, "I, I might cum...I want you to stay inside of me a little longer..."

Hearing this, Pedro smiled wryly, "understood." Again, he lowered down his torso, embraced Antonio's burning body into his sweating arms, and pressed his fingers upon both of the erecting nipples. "Do you like I touching you here?" He never touched his nipples when he masturbated, so he wanted to know what Antonio thought.

"...si, I like...mhmm...I like you touching...every inch of my skin..."

"Muito bem," Pedro went ahead to touch the Spaniard's nipples in various ways, sometimes fast, sometimes slowly, sometimes with strength, and sometimes with tenderness, but he never forgot to control the rhythm of thrusting in and out Antonio's southern part.

"Mhmm...! I, I'm cumming! Ahhhhhh!" Suddenly, Antonio quivered madly in Pedro's arms, and while crying out loudly, he achieved orgasm.

Pedro quickly stretched out his hand to catch the sperms spilling like fountain water out from Antonio's penis, letting these precious seeds drip down through the gaps of his fingers. At the same time, he reached his own orgasm inside Antonio. "Ahhh..." Pedro groaned loudly.

As the tide of ecstasy gradually ebbed away, and their heavy breaths became peaceful again, the Spaniard lying under Pedro chuckled, "we didn't cum at the same time. We're not alike at all."

"I didn't expect you cummed when I was merely teasing your nipples. I would never have done such a thing if I were you." Pedro stroked Antonio's dark-brown hair soaked in sweat while lying on top of him.

"...it's because your love-making was too amazing, and I felt really good..." Antonio admitted, blushing.

"...é mesmo?" the Portuguese brushed away the wet hair on Antonio's forehead in order to see those bright green eyes more clearly.

"It's true. By the way, have you read Ovid's Metamorphoses?"

Pedro shook his head, "you know I seldom read books."

"Well, the book says women usually enjoy more than men do during sex. Do you want to have a try?"

"To be a woman?" Pedro rolled his eyes.

"I mean, let me top you."

"Uh huh, do you still have energy?"

"Certo," suddenly, Antonio jumped up from under Pedro, and sat face to face with the Portuguese. Then, he pulled Pedro's head close to steal a kiss, broke the kiss, and held up a string of long hair, "you're very beautiful, Pedro."

The Portuguese looked down upon his shoulders, only to find that his pony tail was untied. When he was about to search for the ribbon, he felt that Antonio was touching his spent cock. He jerked instinctively, "hmm, what're you doing?"

In fact, when Antonio stole a kiss from Pedro, he also stole his ribbon. Now the green ribbon which matched the colour of Pedro's eyes was tied to his owner's cock. "Stop, this is for my hair!" Pedro tried to untie it, but the knot made by Antonio was too complicate for him, so he gave up and flushed, feeling insulted.

"In order to prevent your untimely ejaculation, I have to make a preparation. Don't worry, I will untie you when the time comes." Antonio winked at him with a naughty smile.

"I'm not like you, Antonio!"

"Who knows?"

The Spaniard led Pedro to a king size bed in the attic on the second floor, and pushed him down on the soft mattress. Now Pedro's nakedness was totally revealed under Antonio. His well-built body and sun-tanned shiny skin were exactly the same as Antonio's. What made them different was their hair. The long-haired Pedro looked more beautiful and graceful than Antonio who was brighter than the sun.

"Pedro, you're very beautiful." Antonio praised once again. The praised one was merely lying smilingly on the bed, an expectation in his eyes. As the former empire bent one of his knees to spread the dominated's legs apart, under the green-ribboned cock, the entrance of the anus was dimly seen. Grinning, Antonio licked his own fingers to make them wet, and then stretched his hand towards the entrance of Pedro's anus.

"Uhh," sensing Antonio's rough fingers invading him, Pedro shrunk back.

"Ha ha, I was only joking." Antonio grinned broadly, for he was happy that he had avenged on Pedro who teased him so often. He produced a bottle of lubricant from nowhere, and winked, "look, I always remember to prepare this too. Trust me, I'm not a bad top either." Then, he lubricated and spread Pedro's anus with caution, and before long, all of his three fingers managed to insert it. "Pedro is a good boy too, let Oyabun spoil you." He squeezed more lubricant to paint Pedro's naked chest to make it look glossy, and lowered himself down to lick it with his warm and wet tongue.

"Hmmm..." Pedro moaned, for he felt as if electrified by Antonio's tongue, and his wasted cock erected again at once in spite of being bound in the tightening ribbon. The longer Antonio's tongue teased both of his nipples, the harder Pedro's penis became. He felt the urge of releasing his cock but was unable to. He tried to struggle, but there was nothing he could do except bending his knees, for Antonio was topping him, dominating him.

"Don't tell me you want to cum now. It's only a start!" Antonio raised up his head from Pedro's chest, grinned broadly, and grasped the Portuguese' bound cock, but soon released it from his hand. "Don't look so disappointed, mi guapo." Antonio held up Pedro's sweaty face, and thrust a finger into Pedro's mouth to make him taste his own anus. At first, Pedro felt insulted, but soon he began to suck the finger hungrily like a baby.

"Is your other mouth down there hungry too, mi guapo?" Antonio kept on grinning.

Pedro turned his head to get rid of the finger, "...only if your cock is as tasty as mine." He pretended to be calm, but his dripping sweats betrayed him.

"OK, I'll let you taste me right away." Antonio held up his erecting cock to search for the lubricated entrance of Pedro's anus, and as soon as it was found, he thrust his cock deep into it.

"Ahhhhhh...!" feeling his hungry anus was fed with Antonio's hot, hard cock, Pedro began to moan loudly. He bent up his torso in the shape of a rainbow, his head rubbing a soft pillow, and his dark-brown long hair spreading on the sheet.

Antonio started to thrust Pedro with unbelievable strength. Thanks to Pedro's provocative words, the matador was thrusting like a bull, deeper and deeper into the Lusitanian. The king size bed, the wooden attic, and even the whole cottage were shaking and squeaking.

"...Tonio...Antonio...be gentile, I'm about to break...ahhhhh...!"

"Hmmm...Now you know what it's like to be a woman?"

"I, I'm not...woman..." Pedro gritted his teeth to pretend being strong, but his quivering body and falling tears indicated that he was on the verge of collapse.

However, the matador continued smirking and even increased his strength of thrusting the Portuguese under his control. Gasping as heavily as a bull, he looked down to Pedro's tightly-bound cock. "Hmm...is it becoming unbearable? If you admit...that my penis is more tasty than yours...hmmm, then I'll release you..."

"Mhmm...Antonio's...penis' more tasty...than, than mine...mhmm..." Pedro had no choice but to surrender.

"Good boy...Pedro...hmmm..."

At long last, Pedro's desire was fulfilled-the ribbon finally untied, his penis emitted semen in Antonio's hands. At the same time, he could feel that Antonio quickened his thrusts, and as the matador moaned lowly, his scorching seeds were planted into Pedro's body. Still soaked in incredible bliss, Pedro continued shedding tears, which made Antonio pity him and stoop down to kiss away the hot tears. "Bravo, Pedro."

Seeing the satisfied look on Pedro's face, Antonio asked proudly, "wasn't I amazing?"

"Umm, not bad. But I was better than you." Pedro sat up, stretched out a hand to draw the Spaniard's head close to himself, and kissed him.

"Pedro..."

"Sim?"

"If I love you, be on your guard!"

"Claro."

He had no intention to consider the meaning of Antonio's words, for as long as Antonio was with him, he could not think of other things. The exhausted Spaniard lied down into his arms, letting Pedro kiss his forehead, cheeks, and lips. Then, holding each other in bed, the two Iberians fell into sleep and dreamed the same sweet dream together.