Not only a song by Lady Gaga, but also the name of Elin’s holiday sweetheart from years ago. Yes, inspired by Gaga’s musings about a Spanish hunk, I decided to give Elin a little backstory. Join the girls as they muse on summer loves of the past and present, in this three-part series.

Alejandro (Elin)

“Ok, girls. How about celebrities we fancy?”

“Hester, we’re not twelve anymore.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not because we’re old bangers that we can’t fancy George Clooney.”

It was Saturday night, and I had taken to task on organising a girls night in. Hester, Jade and I had just finished a marathon of old Doctor Who episodes, featuring our perennial favorite, Tom Baker. We were looking for a subject to gossip about.

“Come on, Hester, you can do better than that. Georgie’s a little bit of a cliché, innit?” I said.

“Who do you fancy?” asked Jade.

“Off the top of my head… Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“Sherlock Holmes? You’re joshing me.” said Hester, looking quite surprised at my answer.

“I interviewed him for the magazine recently, and he was very charming.” I defended myself.

“Are we really going to talk like a bunch of teens all night long? I have a better idea.” said Jade, trying to prevent a heated argument about the merits of Sherlock Holmes.

“Yes Jade, please tell us your idea.” we both said.

“How about summer loves? You know the kind, Fernando on the beach of St-Tropez and that.”

“Hey, that’s not bad. I mean, we must have all had one.” I said, pondering which of my holiday romances I was going to disclose to my friends. Then, he popped back into my head. The one that got away…

“I have one.”

“Ok, Elin, start us off.” said Jade.

“Well… it was my early twenties. The summer holiday before the last year of uni. Before Johnny came back.”

“Barcelona?” guessed Jade. I had told her about the trip I took, but never about him.

Yes, it was a trip to Barcelona that did the trick.

The first day, I was feeling a little lost. I wondered down the Ramblas to a mall called Maremagnum. After browsing the mall for a while, I found something to remind me of home. An Irish pub on the fourth floor. I settled myself, and ordered a pint of bitter. That’s when I locked eyes with him.

He was a student from Madrid on holiday in Barca. And he was devastatingly handsome. Tanned skin, dark eyes and jet black hair. An aristocratic nose and winning smile. His arms, from what I could see, were huge, which was always a winner with me. He had seen me too and decided to join me.

“Buenos dias. I am Alejandro.” he said to me. Alejandro. The name sounded like poetry to my romantic soul. Immediately, I saw potential. A handsome Spanish man and an innocent Irish student with a glint in her eye and a tingling in her groin.

“Buenos dias. My name is Elin.”

“Ay-lin. It sounds beautiful. Where do you come from?”

“Wales. But I was born in County Cork, in Ireland.”

“Wales. I have never been in Wales. Is it beautiful there?”

“It has its merits. I live in Cardiff, and there is a beautiful bay there, so I like hanging out there.”

“Maybe one day, you can take me to this bay of yours.”

I smiled. The ice was broken. It turned out we were staying at the same hotel, so we made plans to go for a swim that day.

At the pool, that same day, I sat on the edge, as I studied his athletic body in motion, glistening from the water. I knew I wanted him from the get-go.

He joined me, poolside, and we sat on two beach towels. We talked for hours about his love of his hometown, his art studies and my journalistic qualities. All the while, we kept innocently touching each other. I quite liked Alejandro. And I had a feeling he quite liked me as well.

This flirting kept going on for a few days. Until he took me out on a genuine date. A bus tour of the city, followed by a picnic on the beach. Amongst the tapas and the good red wine, I could see it clearly. Alejandro was a gem of a chap, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, before we parted ways.

Drunk on love and vino tinto, we wondered back to the hotel, where he showed me his room.

“Por favor, cariño, stay with me. Stay the night and I will show you love.”

It was but a word. But he had entranced me with his looks, his kindness and his innate Spanish-ness. I kissed him, right then and there. His lips were like honey, with a hint of wine. We stumbled towards his bed and he lay me down. He tenderly undressed me, and then, as a little bonus, did a little striptease for me. His body was gorgeous. As he slowly removed his boxers, he revealed a truly gorgeous cock, erect and proud. I couldn’t help but grin. How could I have guessed that I would meet a fantastic man on my first trip abroad alone?

As proud as only a Spanish man could be, he walked towards me and lay down on the bed.

“Vamos a hacer el amor, mi amor?”

“What are you asking me?”

“I am asking you if we shall make love together, my love.” he smiled.

I answered by kissing him again. Then, he took the lead, climbing on top of me and spreading me open. He entered me, without a hitch, and made love to me like a proper gentleman. Although, I did presume that he wanted something rougher.

I climaxed breathlessly. And nearly climaxed again when I heard him go over the edge. He breathed Spanish words into my ear, which all sounded like poetry.

“Ay mi amor… ay.” he whispered, as a rush of cum escaped him and he shuddered to orgasm.

I stayed the night.

And the next night.

And the night after that.

We fucked every night, sometimes tender, other times a little rougher. But the best night was the last.

“We will meet again, my darling. In this life, or the next.” he reassured me.

“Alej, I don’t want to go home… I’ve enjoyed this too much.”

“Me too. Usted tiene un lugar en mi corazón. You have a place in my heart. And in my loins.” he added as a joke.

“Don’t joke. No me jodas, Alej. Fuck me hard.”

He obliged. He pushed me against the wall and ripped my skirt apart. I moaned, as he spanked my bare arse, which turned me on even more. Like the nice girl I was, I spread my legs. He entered, and proceded to ram me senseless, making me scream “Ai papi, más, más, más!”

The feeling of his cock inside me was amazing. It felt like it belonged there.

We said our goodbyes the next morning. I left towards Cardiff feeling lonely and sad. But that soon ended when my childhood sweetheart, Johnny McNamara, came back into my life.

“But I never forgot Alejandro.”

The girls sat in silence, stunned as mullets by my graphic descriptions. I held back a tear as I remembered how intense my love for Alej was.

“So. Who’s next?”



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1 Comment

  1. I don’t listen to Lady Gaga. At least not knowingly. So when I see the name Alejandro I think of Alejandro Jodorowski, director of such awesome movies as El Topo, The Holy Mountain and Santa Sangre.

    Lovely story. It’s not every day I get turned on and learn some Spanish at the same time. :o)


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