The Matador [F22/M22] [Blowjob on Train] [Second Day of Interrail] [Slow Burn] [Continued Story]

*It’s only Julia’s second day on interrail, and she’s headed for the historic city of Ronda in Spain by train. But on the train she finds a travel companion, Miguel, who’s practicing to become a bullfighter. The two become quite adventurous on the train…*

​

**The Matador**

*Four years of focused college-education, and finally the reward!*

In Julia’s mind, it sounded rather ironic and ungrateful, but she was far from that. Even if she stood alone on a train station in a country she knew next to nothing about and waited for a train, that was to depart half an hour ago – she was beaming. The first, long stride from Madrid had already been completed, and now she was waiting on a local train to take her to her destination, the small but historic city of Ronda. It was but the first exciting stop of a whole bunch through Europe on rails.

*Ronda, The City of Bull Fighting*. Julia read on the pamphlet she had grabbed earlier. Bull Fighting wasn’t something she’d normally condone, and all her friends back home in Canada were mystified. Why go there of all places? She couldn’t give a good answer, and they’d had to content with the fact, that it was a gut feeling. But the closer Julia came to Ronda, the more she began to understand her fascination. Not for the cruel battles, but for what they stood for. Warriors that entered into wild combat with a threat, that could end their lives. It was a show though, and Julia knew that. Spectators came there to be entertained, and it was of course rigged fairly heavily against the poor bull. Still, she wanted to experience this central part of Spanish culture and maybe understand why it was so close to their hearts.

Julia stuffed the pamphlet back into her bag and re-did her ponytail while there was not much else to do. She was a twenty-two-year-old blonde gifted with both a slim figure and a pair of round and firm c-cup attention-seekers plus a petite ass. Most of her friends claimed she had been unreasonably gifted. Julia wasn’t so sure, she knew a lot of girls and women she thought looked better than herself, but she did appreciate that she wouldn’t go many hours on a bar without being offered free drinks. Julia reckoned though, that she was more of the next-door-girl, with her slightly rounded cheeks, big blue eyes and cute smile.

Finally, thirty-something minutes late, the train scrambled into the train-station and breaks wailed before it pulled to a stop. Julia checked her ticket twice, but the routes matched and she wasn’t late to jump onboard, stuff her oversized backpack away to finally slide into the seats at the very back of the train. A couple of hours, and she’d be at her destination.

I’d thought it’d be cooler in here than outside though. She thought to herself, and waved her hand in front of her. It was more an act of complaining and posturing than actually helpful. The trip had been arduous, so before long she found herself with her headphones plugged in and losing herself in the music and the striking, late-afternoon southern Spanish visage as the train rumbled across the landscape.

Julia almost slipped away, dreaming of a gentle ocean breeze when she would finally hit the Portuguese shores a little later in her travels. She blinked a few times, realizing the breeze was real and glared surprised at the guy sitting in the seat diagonally from her, casually waving a fan at her with a wide grin.

“I don’t want the *señorita* to have a heat stroke.” He joked.

“Umm, I’m fine.” Julia blurted out dismissively.

“You sure? You could fry an egg on the rails today.”

Julia gave a nervous smirk.

“Well, it is pretty hot out there today. But you really don’t have to make me look like a hair product ad.”

“I was just sharing. I take this train to and from work when I visit my parents, and I always bring a fan for myself, when it’s this hot.” He explained with a casual smile.

Julia had to acknowledge it was scorching.

“It’s nice of you.” She smiled politely and returned to her disconnected scenery gazing.

“Are you travelling Spain?” He asked as if her turning towards the window hadn’t communicated the point. Pretty typical, and why she didn’t fully agree that her looks were always a boon.

“Yeah. My first day.” She said, trying to seem indifferent. She had to admit, that the guy was speaking English pretty well, although he still had a distinct accent. The Spanish thing were the t’s were pronounced as softly as the d’s. It was kind of endearing to an extent.

“Oh really? Where are you going then?”

He’s getting *reaaal* curious now. She thought and had to force herself to not roll her eyes.

“Ronda.” She answered and sighed.

“That’s a beautiful city. And it’s where I live.”

“You live there?” She asked, thinking it was quite the coincident given how many stops this line had.

“Yes. Me and my sister actually.”

She would gauge him being about the same age as herself, looked tall even sitting down, had short curly, black hair fading in the sides and was lean and fit like a runner or similar athlete. Not a bad look at all. Julia plucked out her headphones and acknowledged the fact, that she wasn’t getting rid of his attention anytime soon. Maybe he even had a few useful tips about the city?

“I don’t know if I could live in the same apartment as my brother, but he’s also four years younger.”

“Yeah, I’m probably the worst of us, but luckily we’re renting a small house, so we can keep distance between us when we get too annoyed with each other.” He laughed. “How long will you stay then?”

Julia shrugged. She didn’t know for sure yet, but she had only booked one night, which she realized now was probably too little.

“One or two nights then I’ll see the attractions before I’ll take another train west.”

“Ronda is a beautiful city, so I’d recommend two nights. You won’t see similarly other places in Europe.” He said and Julia nodded. It was good advice although he was likely a bit biased. “I’m so sorry, I never told you my name. I’m Miguel!” He said and stretched out his hand across the table dividing the seats.

“I’m Julia.” She said and shook it. Miguel held it a moment longer than she expected, while his dark brown eyes pierced hers inquisitively. Julia felt her cheeks blush and cast her gaze down with a nervous yet soft smile…

Was this the passion of the Spanish people, she had heard about? She could probably attest to that now, as brief eye-contact had felt both intrusive and exhilarating. Yet, Julia’s smile back was unforced.

“A beautiful name. I assume you’re from America then?”

She shook her head.

“Almost. I’m from Canada, Montreal.”

“Oh, I’d wish I was living in Canada this time of summer. I bet the air condition is even working in the regional trains there!” He chuckled and mimicked a shiver.

“The weather is the air condition. Our summer may almost be colder than your winters.” She joked. “But now I’m curious, what do you and your sister do in Ronda? There are not many options to study in such a relatively small city, is there?”

Miguel smiled pensively.

“Ehh, you’re right that there are not really any universities and conventional business schools there. But I still study.”

Julia was curious now.

“Then what do you study?”

I’m a bullfighting apprentice. My sister’s job is promoting the events.”

“You can study to become a bullfighter?!?” Julia exclaimed surprised.

“Of course, you can. You don’t just step into the ring and wave around a red flag as many people think. That was another generation.”

She observed him for a moment, was he really a bullfighter? She hardly knew what to ask, and what not to ask so he didn’t take offense.

“Have you fought a bull then? I mean…” She went, but hesitated.

“Yes, I have. Not the big ones that the famous matadors fight, but the small ones. They can be quite ferocious and dangerous too though.”

She was certainly convinced they were.

“Have you ever *killed* one?” She finally braved asking. It was a barbaric practice, but talking to a guy who was a bullfighter himself, she felt a bit more humbled.

Miguel smirked, but his eyes darted around uneasily before his gaze finally fixed itself on Julia.

“No.”

“No?” Julia asked, but his answer was not one of mercy, but more of disgrace. “Don’t all Spanish bullfighters do that?”

Without knowing it, she had hit a sore spot and Miguel looked annoyed and sighed.

“It nearly killed me. I was handed a manso – a coward bull. One that is unpredictable and don’t reliably go for the cape.” He explained in a strained tone.

“Really? I mean, I’m sorry to hear that.” Julia said, and looked him up and down, only his black chino shorts and the red t-shirt being of some notice. Nothing she saw tied into his story.

“I know what you think. I shouldn’t complain, because the whole thing is rigged to kill the bull. It should win once in a while.”

Julia shook her head.

“No, no…! That’s not what I think!” She said. “When did it happen?”

Miguel relaxed his shoulders a bit.

“Sorry, I’m still a bit shaken when I think back. It was only four months ago.”

Julia was shocked. That short time? No wonder he was shocked.

“What happened?”

Miguel circled around the table and sat right next to Julia, as he lifted his t-shirt.

“This.”

Julia saw a pronounced, round scar marring the tissue on the left side of his stomach. “Is that…?” She asked as Miguel conceded a nod.

“It gored me with its horn. I praise myself lucky that it missed me with its hooves before my instructor could divert its attention from me.”

Julia looked at him and in his eyes she saw bravery, but also a sliver of fear. She hesitated for a moment seeing him emotional, but gambled and put her hand on his scar. It felt weird, because his tissue wasn’t smooth as she’d expect, but rough. What she also felt however, was that Miguel was a very well-trained man, his abs far beyond what she had expected from him while wearing the lose t-shirt.

“I’m sure it was a terrible experience. Are you able to perform again anytime soon?”

“We will see. I’ve been home, taking some time away from Ronda and the longing for the arena. Soon I’ll meet with my instructor, and he’ll judge if I’m fit enough in both body and mind.” Miguel explained, and quite contrary to what Julia had expected, he put his hand on her own, clearly communicating his appreciation for her compassion.

“Thank you. It’s been a long few months and I’m getting both excited and nervous about returning. But you must have reason to be excited too. How long have you been travelling now, and where do you stay in Ronda?”

Julia brushed his stomach with her hand and pulled it back gently. He was quite sweet, and despite the scar, her hand on his stomach made her heart pounce and her stomach tickle.

“Oh yeah, for sure! I’ve only just landed in Madrid yesterday though, slept there one night and then Ronda is my first real stop. Booked a place at a youth hostel, so it’ll probably be super fun!” Julia said as Miguel nodded engaged.

“There are not so many hostels in Ronda, and they’re usually fully booked. It’s good you reserved it in time.” He said and Julia nodded. “If Ronda is your first city on your travels, I’m almost sorry I can’t personally send you off with a bullfighting show.” He smirked.

“I’m not sure I want to see a bullfight after what you’ve told me. One thing is the bull being killed, but seeing a person being impaled… yuck!”

The images in her mind made her feel slightly sick.

“It happens rarely – maybe I’m lucky and this is my one time, and the rest of my fights will be pure success!” He joked. “And regarding killing the bull, it’s given the opportunity to fight so well, that the audience demands it won’t be killed. As a matador, you treat it with dignity and learn compassion towards it.” He said as his arms gesticulated passionately, his hand suddenly swatting Julia’s forehead by accident.

“That kind of compassion?!?” She chuckled and felt her head.

“I’m so sorry…!” Miguel went and brushed a few lose strands of hair from her face, caressing the place he had accidentally punted. “Let me take a look.” He said, leaned closer and Julia suddenly found herself swimming in Miguel’s sweet cologne. He blew air on her forehead before brushing it with his thumb. “Better now?”

Julia felt her ears turn slightly red, but indeed she felt better. The hit? All but forgotten.

“I guess, yeah. I’m not going down just because of a single kick of a hoof!” She teased, but immediately wished she could have eaten those words. Miguel laughed and gazed at her intrigued.

“Then perhaps you should become the bullfighter! *Matadora de Julia!*” He said and spread his arms as if presenting her to a crowd.

“No, stop!” Julia tried to push his arms down, but he just laughed. The railcar was almost empty and no one could directly see them where they sat, but it was quite embarrassing if anyone heard him.

“Why? There are many female matadors today, don’t you love the fame and the adoration of the fans?” He continued and Julia gave up, letting her head roll back along with her eyes with a deep sigh.

“Aww, don’t be shy, it’s still a long trip to Ronda! And what would your vacation be if you couldn’t return home and tell all your friends about the clumsy bullfighter, that made a fool of himself in the train?”

Julia couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. He was making more of a fool out of himself than her, and somehow it was quite cute. Miguel seemed more down to earth than most of the smug guys usually vying for her attention.

“Just don’t drag me into it!” She wagged her finger and frowned, but his grin gave her a hard time trying to keep up facade.

“I’m not dragging anyone anywhere!” He waved his hands innocently before him, but his smirk all too playful.

“Don’t play coy with me, *señor*!” She retorted.

“Oh, that was almost without accent. My compliments, *señorita*!” He said with a fluidity of accent on the ‘*señorita*’ Julia could only dream of.

“And my condolences to your English!” Julia said with crossed arms and raised chin.

“I know, my English sounds like it was stomped on by a bull!” He smirked, and Julia suddenly felt bad for him again.

“It’s actually quite good. I was told not to expect very many English speakers in Spain. But you don’t have any trouble keeping a conversation.” She praised him.

“I was different as a child. Not only did I choose to challenge my health with wild stunts every time I went out to play, wearing my mother’s nerves to a thread, but I also loved American and English movies and series, wanting to hear the actors’ real voices. I wanted to get the real drama behind their acting, so I got pretty used to English.”

Julia nodded with a smile.

“It seems like drama is a reoccurring theme in your life?”

“Yeah, more than anyone close to me would like. I’ve lost more than one girlfriend because they thought I took too many risks. And they were probably right.”

“You don’t have anyone now then?”

“No! Who wants someone that they can barely trust to keep themselves alive next week?” He chuckled and Julia laughed back. Even if he was being funny, she certainly did sense a bit of loneliness in him. Maybe more like longing actually.

“Been a long few months in hospital?” She asked and gazed at him, his lips about to quip a joke, but stopped.

“Words can’t describe how many times I tried to get up but my muscles simply couldn’t lift me. When minutes becomes hours and hours becomes days, even the brief conversations with doctors’ and nurses’ turn onto the only thread you can cling to. The deafening silence afterwards the scissor that cuts it.”

Julia put her hand gently on his lap and squeezed.

“What about your parents, didn’t they visit?”

“They did, and my sister too. But they were not able to stay there during the whole time and keep me company. Also, I was still too tough, thinking I couldn’t be hurt by anything.” Miguel said, as a hint of a quiver entered his voice and he grasped her hand and squeezed it back. “What the hell is happening, that I’m telling this to a stranger? It’s your first day of interrail, it ought to be a party, and look at me ruining it!”

Miguel was about to get up, but Julia grasped his thigh with both hands.

“Wait! Please stay.” She said, and Miguel looked at Julia confused. “I think you’re delightful. You’ve clearly been lacking human contact for too long, but that’s not your fault!” Julia said assertively and took his hand between hers. She glanced around, but even at the latest stop, no one else had entered their railcar. Her heart pounded and she had no idea how he’d react – or if her intuition was right – but here was this gut feeling again. “We still have an hour or so before reaching Ronda, hasn’t it been long enough since you’ve felt the touch of a woman?”

Julia was screaming at herself for being this blunt and this daring, but she pushed herself to keep eye contact as her slender finger traced gently up his arm.

His lips parted and his eyes wandered confused. Julia bit her lip.

“What is this supposed to mean?” He went, and Julia thought he was even hotter, when he was shy.

“Just a story about a tourist making a fool out of herself…” Julia purred in a low voice and splayed her hand underneath his t-shirt feeling his firm sixpack and slid it down to his lap. “Or maybe it’s a prize for being a brave matador. Your choice.”

Julia felt his breath pick up and his crotch bulge. She was probably as nervous as him.

“Your heavenly blue eyes have enchanted me from the beginning I saw you. How can I resist such an offer?” He said, and an excited and warm smile spread his cheeks as Miguel traced his hand over her shoulder and down her back, making room for Julia to lean over his lap.

“Keep an eye out please, I’ll be a little busy down here.” She said and zipped down his shorts, hungrily sliding her hand into them to meet the source of the bulge. Her fingers clasped around what felt like quite the thick stem. She pulled out a thick and quite long cock and felt the blood pulsating into it, growing ever harder as she clutched it and ran the tip of her fingers up and down the steam. Miguel’s exhaled sounds of pleasure, as he leaned out a bit and glanced down the midsection.

“It’s clear.” He grinned, and as Julia saw his excitement grow, so did her lust to please this surprisingly well-endowed matador.

Miguel’s dazzling brown eyes glanced down on Julia expectantly as she further pulled down his shorts and tights while admiring the veiny cock. She purred as she traced her tongue up the shaft, drawing curves and spirals towards the glistening tip of his cock. Miguel slid a little further down the seat and Julia had placed herself halfway down on the floor. The table made it a little awkward, but it didn’t matter as Miguel’s cock was starting to get insatiably hard in her hand. Julia engulfed the tip with her lips, letting her tongue twirl and play. His body tensed and softened – back and forth as his hand brushed across her back restlessly before finally finding the courage for both to grasp around Julia’s head and neck.

“Mmmhm…!” Julia moaned, feeling his confidence build, even if he wasn’t yet forceful about pushing her head down on his cock. Julia leaned back a bit, tickling the frenulum at the root of the tip with her tongue. She sent sweet flickers of her eyelashes his way along with a wry grin as little grunts escaped him as his hips started to subtly match her rhythm. “Is this what you’ve been longing for?”

He chuckled between his grunts and seemed to adore her treatment of his cock.

“*Demonios sí…!*” He said, and Julia thought she got the message. “So, this is your idea of a fun vacation?”

“Mhmm… I wasn’t planning it so soon though.” Julia purred and sucked the tip of his cock for a moment, before he felt the sighs of pleasure build and Miguel’s hands finally ready to show her, what they wanted. His hand grasped her ponytail, gently but firmly, and his other hand supported her head as he pressed his throbbing cock deep into Julia’s mouth. She tried to still caress his cock with her tongue, but after a few strokes, the tip of it already pressed towards her throat. Julia’s lips were only about an inch from kissing the root of his stem as little coughs escaped her lips as saliva gushed down the rod while Miguel groaned. When he let go again, Julia spiraled her head right and left up his cock, until her tongue traced off the glazed tip of his cock. Her own pussy was tingling with excitement now, but right now she was deeply invested in Miguel, her hands rubbing his cock with fervor. But suddenly Miguel’s eyes widened.

“*Mierda…!* It’s the conductor, he’s checking the tickets!”

Miguel quickly pulled up his briefs and pants while Julia picked up a handkerchief, before scouring the backpack for her interrail ticket. Right before the conductor appeared, Julia opened the fan, and throwed it over Miguel’s crotch to hide the obvious bulge. He smirked back at her before the conductor walks up to them. Miguel and him briefly speak as Miguel and her shown him the tickets.

“*Gracias*!” The conductor said.

“*De nada*.” Julia replied. You’re welcome, it meant. But in reality he was quite unwelcome right at that point. The conductor nods at both of them and turns around heading back where he came from.

“That was kind of sudden!” Miguel grinned. “Also, your pronunciation improves. Maybe you just need motivation?” He joked.

“Well, my jaw-muscles are getting warmed up.” She giggled.

“Speaking of which.” Miguel said and lifted the fan, pointing to the fact that his cock was still trying to actively burst through his pants.

“You want me to finish it?” She teased.

“You’ll send me back to the hospital, if you leave me with that in my pants!”

“Sure, on one condition!”

“I’m inclined to accept any right now.”

“Good. Only talk to me in Spanish while I finish you.” Julia said and plucked out his baton of a cock again. “It’s fucking sexy as hell.”

“*Muy bien. Chupa esa polla, Julia!*” He said, the soft pronunciation of the d’s teasing out the juices in her pussy, and hearing her own name spoken like that was intoxicating. Julia rubbed the stem of his cock while caressing his balls with passion and letting her lips and tongue twirl up and down his shaft. His touch got firmer and his hips continued to press his cock deep into her mouth, threating to choke her at every stroke.

“*Oh sí…! Sí…!*” Julia picked up along with a string of fast-spoken words in Spanish. At a moment’s notice his cock pulsated and she felt robes of warm cum blasting into her mouth, his body shaking and arching as he grunted in pleasure. She continued to rub his shaft, licking every inch of his rock-hard cock and ravenously gobbling up every spot of cum to run down his cock, before she was completely sure, he was clean. Julia gazed up at him with doe-eyes, displaying her glazed tongue, before slowly closing her lips and swallowing the huge load he shot in her mouth.

“*Increíble…!*” He exclaimed and laughed, as Julia displayed an empty mouth.

From the rural countryside to buildings passing by in a slowing blur, it seemed like the train was about to reach their destination. Ronda.

*But was it to be their final destination for today?*

______________________________________________

I hope you liked the story, and if you did please comment and like – or take a look at the full version, where things heat up even more!

[The Matador (Smashwords)](https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1169121)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/xybc2l/the_matador_f22m22_blowjob_on_train_second_day_of