The Taurus Caper

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Taurus Caper ISBN: 1-55410-729-6 Copyright © 2006 Bret Malory Coverart by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books 2006 Look for us online at www.extasybooks.com

This book is dedicated to all lovers of erotic adventure novels.

The Taurus Caper Freddie Bonner, Academy Award winning independent film producer, stood in front of the gate that usually let the fighting bulls into the ring. He crouched in a soccer goalie defensive position, awaiting the hard ball that would come rocketing off the foot of Jose Luis Negrete. Freddie had to stop the ball with his hands or it would do one of two things; either almost tear his head off, or go past him into the tunnel, and if he didn’t stop the ball, Freddie would lose a hundred pesos to the young bullfighter. Jose Luis, a splendid athlete, bounced the ball back and forth between his feet, looking more like Pele than a novice bullfighter. He suddenly let the ball drop to the sand, made a feint to the left, chinked the ball to the right, then sent a blast that whizzed past Freddie’s ear and into the tunnel. All of the other novice bullfighters, or novilleros, as 1

Bret Malory they were called in Mexico, screamed and hollered¸ knowing they had beaten the rich gringo out of a few more pesos that would buy them all some food and an occasional beer Freddie rationalized that he let the young kids win this game to give them the necessary funds to continue the training that might lead them to fame and fortune in the bull ring. Of course, those young men had played soccer all their lives so Freddie had no chance anyway, but he had a vested interest in keeping them solvent because the aspiring novilleros were an integral part of his latest documentary; a film about the whole bullfighting mystique and what it meant to the culture of Mexico. Every morning, Freddie and his film crew would go to the El Progresso bullring in Guadalajara to film the young novices practicing, and to get to know the charismatic young men who might someday wear the mantel of such famous Mexican bullfighters such as Manolo Martinez, Rafael Ortega or Fernando Ochoa. Gary Anderson, the key grip, would set up the steady cam and the boom camera, aluminum reflector screens, lighting, sound gear and a director’s chair for Freddie. Not that Freddie needed the ego kick of his own director’s chair, it was just that he needed a place to sit down sometimes, even though he was a Southern California surfer and in 2

The Taurus Caper great shape. At the bottom of the bullring, in the hot Mexican sun, the temperature rose dramatically, leaving the film crew and the novilleros sweating from the intense workout. “Your turn in the barrel,” said Freddie to Dennis, the artistic director of the production company. Dennis, tall and lean with a ponytail, looked like a bullfighter, in fact he had an amazing resemblance to the famous Spanish bullfighter, El Cordobez. That resemblance had helped Dennis greatly with the pretty Mexican girls who hung around the bullfighting community, much like groupies hang around rock stars. “Why don’t I just give them the hundred pesos and save me the anguish of having that fucking ball rocketing at my head?” Dennis replied. Dennis, a talented and accomplished artist, had a definite aversion to sports of any kind that took place outside of a bed. “That would spoil the fun.” Freddie laughed. “These kids have pride and they don’t want to just take a handout.” “In my case, it is a handout because the fucking kid is going to kick my ass. Besides, the fair and passionate Consuela is sitting in the stands with her girl friends and I don’t want her to think I’m a fucking geek.” “Didn’t you show her how you can make a broad jump with your tongue?” laughed Freddie. 3

Bret Malory “I sure did and she said it represented great athletic prowess so I sure don’t want to show her the real athlete.” “I’ll do it,” said Gary, who had been a Hollywood stunt man and a Special Ops guy in the military. “I think I can stop the ball.” “That’s not the idea,” said Freddie. “We have to make sure they have some money for food.” “One of the maxims of bullfighting is that the hunger in the belly is more painful than a bull’s horn,” said Rafael, the technical consultant. “That saying motivates these poverty stricken kids to ignore the pain of a goring because if it doesn’t kill them it will make them rich.” “I think Nietzsche said that in a slightly different way,” said Dennis. “He said, that which doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” “So we should keep them hungry?” “Not at all. I think what you’re doing here is very noble,” said Rafael. “Then let Jose Luis kick the goal, Gary, and we’ll give these brave kids another hundred.” Gary reluctantly stood in front of the opening, staring intently at the confident Jose Luis. “Give me your best shot,” Gary shouted, as the handsome Mexican bounced the soccer ball back and forth, from foot to foot in an amazing demonstration of bipedal dexterity. Jose Luis dropped the ball in a sudden move, 4

The Taurus Caper his left leg swung forward in a blur, struck the ball squarely in the center and shot it past Gary’s head in a cannon shot that blasted back into the tunnel. All of the other novilleros shouted, “Ole!” Freddie peeled off a hundred peso note and handed it to Jose Luis. “Great shot.” he said. “I could have stopped it,” whispered Gary. “And a fucking fart could stop a hurricane,” laughed Dennis. “I’m sure glad I didn’t have to be the pawn in that macho game.” David Lucidi, a blond Italian kid from San Diego who was trying to break into the bullfighting profession, retrieved the ball, then turned and faced the film crew. “Are there no others?” he shouted, doing a damn good impression of Brad Pitt in Troy. “I want this guy,” said Freddie. “Bring it on,” he yelled. “Let me see your best shot.” David dropped the ball to the blood soaked sand, faked three times, then charged, dribbling the ball straight toward Freddie. At the last second he sent a blast that the film director just barely managed to touch, deflecting it slightly in its high speed trajectory. “A moral victory!” shouted Dennis as Freddie peeled off another hundred. “David is a pinche gringo,” laughed Jose Luis. “He don’t know caca about futbol.” “Let’s load all the equipment in the van except 5

Bret Malory for the small camera,” said Freddie. “We’ll take all these guys over to El Rincon and buy them a few Coronas. I want to get some footage of them relaxing.” “Should we invite those girls?” Dennis pointed at the lovely groupies. “Sure. How can these studs have fun without sexy women?” “We’re gonna take a shower under the stands there while you guys pack,” said David. The crew packed all of the gear then Freddie looked around. “Where are those guys?” “Right over there,” Dennis pointed toward an opening under the stands. “Let’s go get them,” said Freddie The filmmakers peeked into the makeshift shower stall where David and Jose Luis stood naked, with two young girls toweling them off. Both young men displayed amazingly large cocks rising in semi-erect splendor. “Holy shit!” exclaimed Freddie. “These fuckers are hung better than the bulls.” “I thought I had a big cock,” said Dennis. “These bastards should have been killed at birth. They make all us normal guys about as imposing as a stud field mouse.” “We’ll be right out,” said David. “These girls want to give us a blow job.” As if on cue the two girls smiled at Freddie and 6

The Taurus Caper Dennis then started to vigorously attack the two meat maulers in a great display of groupie cocksucking. “Should I get the camera?” asked Dennis. “I think it would be all over by the time you got back,” said Freddie as the darling girls brought the bullfighters to spurting, simultaneous orgasms. “Those girls are better than Consuela,” said Dennis, a true aficionado of creative cocksucking. The girls stood up, kissed the boys with slick lips, then turned and marched proudly out of the makeshift shower. “Tuck those cannons into something besides a girl’s mouth and let’s go have a beer,” said Freddie, shaking his head in disbelief.

El Rincon, located next to the bullring, always had a group of aficionados of the Fiesta Brava, or the corrida, as it was commonly known, hanging around, tossing off tequilas and telling tales about the greats of bullfighting. Freddie’s crew and the young aspiring bullfighters soaked up these tales, always told about bigger-than-life men whose courage and bravery surpassed that of mortal beings. One grizzled old veteran of the corrida named El Tope, a man in his 70’s, loved to spin yarns of his fighting days. 7

Bret Malory “Back in ’68,” he said as he sipped his Herradura tequila, “I was in the cuadrilla of Manolo Martinez when he fought a mano a mano with the legendary El Cordobez. Manolo was the best Mexican matador of his time, and El Cordobez, the Spaniard, had acquired a reputation for flamboyant, almost suicidal courage in front of the horns.” El Tope looked at the adoring young bullfighters who sat soaking up his every word. “But, my young friends, courage is easy. What is difficult is the flair, the artistry, the weaving of drama that is needed by the matador, because without those qualities the corrida is nothing more than a circus act.” “El Cordobez had all the qualities needed for greatness,” continued El Tope with messianic fervor. “He was tall and slender, very handsome, with a great shock of wavy hair. His suit of lights was chocolate brown with gold brocade and when he came into the ring everyone knew that this man had a certain indefinable quality that surpassed anything they had ever seen before.” “On the Sunday afternoon of the mano a mano, before his first bull appeared out of the ‘gate of fear’, El Cordobez knelt in front of the gate, indicating he was going to perform the portagayola. As you know, the portagayola is an act of lunacy rarely seen, where the matador kneels directly in the path of a fit and healthy four-year-old 8

The Taurus Caper charging bull that emerges from a darkened pen. And the matador does this without any prior knowledge of the behavior of the wild beast.” El Tope paused, took a drink of his fine tequila and savored the moment. “El Cordobez crossed himself as the crowd fell into pin-drop silence. I was standing behind the Barrera, not fifteen feet from the matador and I heard him say, ‘Come to me, my pretty Toro.’ A huge, black- as-night bull rocketed out of the gate and charged straight at El Cordobez. The crazy Spaniard didn’t twitch a muscle, just stared intently at the freight train that was bearing down on him and then, at the last possible second he swirled the cape over his head. Amazingly, the bull went for the cape and leaped right over the matador. The crowd erupted like the volcano Popocatepetl, in one long, rumbling, ‘Ole!’” “I want to try that someday,” said David. The old man looked at him as if David had just lost his senses. “Well, young man, if you ever decide to do that, just kiss your ass goodbye before-hand, because it will be ripped from your spindly body.” “What did Manolo do to top that?” asked Freddie. “He fought his normal brilliant fight, cut six ears off of his three bulls, but nothing he could have done would have topped what the fucking 9

Bret Malory Spaniard did with the first bull of the afternoon. But El Cordobez wasn’t finished. Later he broke the banderillas until they were only about five inches long and then placed six of them in the bull’s hump, all within an inch of each other. The banderillas were so short he had to reach way over the horns as the bull thundered by, so close that the front of the Spaniard’s suit of lights became smeared with the bright red blood of his antagonist.” “I’ve seen him do that in films,” said Jose Luis. “I practice it every day on the aparato. The old man snorted derisively. “The fucking horns on the aparato are on the front of a wheelbarrow pushed by a puny novillero. Wait until you try it on a real fighting bull. Now that takes cajones the size of baseballs.” “What else did he do that day?” asked one of the other bullfighters. “The fucking Spaniard wasn’t through. On his second bull, during the faena, El Cordobez caped the bull and guided it next to the Barrera, not ten feet from the matador. He knelt down right next to the Barrera, with one shoulder up against the wooden planks. Then he enticed the bull to charge, knowing he had no escape if the bull swerved in any way. The crowd rose to their feet, sensing that they were about to witness the destruction the crazy Spaniard who seemed to 10

The Taurus Caper have arrived at some sort of maniacal death wish.” “Mas tequila,” El Tope shouted to the bartender, confident he had everyone’s attention. “So, the 600 kilo bull charged straight at El Cordobez, totally ignoring the wall and the cape, reaching full speed a few feet from the kneeling matador. The Spaniard flicked the blood red muleta at exactly the precise moment, causing the angry animal to brush by so close it was impossible to see any daylight between the bull’s huge body and the slim figure of El Cordobez. Suddenly, all of the aficionados exploded in a screaming frenzy of adoration, remaining standing while the Spaniard lined up the bull for the kill. He shuffled up closer to the standing beast then touched the bull's horn, which represented a sort of a phallic symbol and cornucopia of plenty and he did this act to receive the power of both.” “The Spaniard moved back, peered over his cape as he aimed the killing instrument at the precise section of the bull that would receive the kill without hitting bone. Now came the moment of truth. El Cordobez thrust in the sword, recibiendo, that is standing without moving, as the animal charged the cape and the poised piece of fine Toledo steel. The giant horns grazed the Spaniard’s belly as he plunged the estoque right in to the hilt, exactly between the shoulder blades and into the bursting heart of the beast. The bull 11

Bret Malory jerked up its head, a sweeping pointed horn just missing the chin of El Cordobez as the bull rushed past and crashed to its knees in the grasp of mortal death.” El Tope paused dramatically, tossed off his tequila and stood up. “None of you will ever match anything like that,” he said evenly. “But one or two of you can make your own mark if you display courage, artistry and dedication to the Fiesta Brava. Good luck,” he walked out the door, head held high, as if he were part of a cuadrilla from some forgotten epoch.

The next morning the film crew set up the equipment in the bullring as the young novilleros caped the horns strapped on the aparato. Several ran backwards in a training maneuver to simulate a retreat from a charging bull while others practiced the swirling, ballet movements of the cape. Freddie and the crew filmed the work ethic and enthusiasm of the young aspiring bullfighters, realizing that the spectacle of the mystique of bullfighting could be told through the toil and dedication of these young men. Freddie decided he needed to concentrate on two of the most photogenic and promising novilleros, hoping that someday they would make it into an actual 12

The Taurus Caper bullfight. “You know, Dennis,” he said to his artistic director. “The contrast between Jose Luis, a dark and introspective Mexican, and David, the crazy, blond gringo chasing an elusive dream, could be the centerpiece for this whole epic.” “You’ve nailed it, Freddie,” said Dennis enthusiastically. “Let’s concentrate on them and if we have to buy some bulls to get a fight, we’ll fucking do it.” “Great! Now that we’re on the same page, let’s get some footage of these guys sitting around, spilling their guts out about the poverty of their youth and why they want to do this crazy shit.” “I agree,” said Dennis. “How much footage do we need of these guys pushing around that fucking wheelbarrow with the stupid horns on front, while they pretend it’s a fucking bull?” “You’re right, as always, Dennis,” said Freddie. “I tried to concentrate on the technical aspects of this thing and we should be concentrating on the personalities.” “God, I wish we could have filmed that old guy, El Tope, in the bar yesterday. That was an amazing story.” “I think we might be able to get him to open up on camera,” said Freddie. “Especially if we give him a few shots of the Herradura tequila.” Just then five of the delightful groupies showed 13

Bret Malory up. “Can we get a part in this film,” asked a devastatingly beautiful brunette with sparkling hazel eyes. “You can be the alpha and the omega of this epic,” said Dennis. “And what does that mean?” she asked innocently. “You will be first face we see as the movie opens and the last lovely body we see as the credits roll at the end of the film,” said Dennis with his compelling smile. “And what is your name?” “I call myself Primavera.” “Oh, sure,” said Dennis. “You’ve known yourself all your life, so of course you know what to call yourself.” “Oh!” she said, slightly embarrassed. “My English is not good. In Spanish we say, ‘Me llamo Primavera’, I call myself Primavera, and you say ‘I am Primavera.’” “If you two can get over the semantics between English and Spanish,” laughed Freddie, “I’d like to get this fucking show on the road.” “So you will film me?” asked Primavera. “I think we can find something for you to do,” said Dennis with a lascivious smile. “Like what?” she asked persistently. “Well, we have leased a fabulous villa on the outskirts of town with swimming pool, hot tub, 14

The Taurus Caper three bars and a bunch of other fun things,” said Dennis, working out a scenario in his mind. “We’ll take you girls out there and we can film you swimming in your bikinis, sitting at the bar, drinking tequila and talking about why you like bullfighting.” The two darling girls looked at each other and screamed. “That would be fantastic!” said Primavera. “I know all about bullfighting and Sandra here knows a lot too. And we just bought new string bikinis.” “That should be a sight to behold,” said Freddie, in an aside to Dennis. “Why don’t we have a little barbecue on Saturday,” suggested Dennis. “We’ll invite Jose Luis and David and some of their lady friends. We’ll all party and film some interesting scenes.” “What a dream come true!” enthused Primavera. “I can’t wait until Saturday.” “We’ll pick all of you up at El Rincon about one on Saturday afternoon,” “Thank you so much, Dennis,” said Primavera. The girls impulsively kissed the two filmmakers on the cheek in a quick embrace and rushed, giggling out of the bullring. “Don’t you just love these Latina girls?” asked Dennis. “Those two are certainly fine examples of that genre,” said Freddie. 15

Bret Malory “See, Latina girls think all the cold blooded blond girls up north are semi-frigid and don’t know how to be hot and passionate,” said Dennis. “So these girls are out to prove how much hotter they are than the gringa bitches, and we get the benefit of them trying to prove their passionate nature.” “You devious old man,” laughed Freddie. “Taking advantage of these Latina Lolitas.” “I’m just helping them prove their basic thesis, and if they enthusiastically push up pussy for me to prove it, who am I to deny them?” “Enough of this titillating bullshit. Let’s get some film in the can.” “You’re right,” agreed Dennis. “But do we have to be humiliated by that soccer shit after we finish?” “I’ve decided to just pay them a daily stipend for being in the film and they all agreed. In fact, Jose Luis said they felt like they were stealing from us anyway, because it was so fucking easy.” “I’d like to get some dramatic close-ups of the way they cape, the way the whole process is like a ritual ballet, with the reds and yellows of the capes filling the screen, and the intense concentration on the novilleros’ faces as they swirl and twirl in the sunlight.” “Now I know why you’re my artistic director,” said Freddie. 16

The Taurus Caper “When are we going to the bull raising ranch?” asked Gary, as he finished setting up the boom camera. “In two weeks. We’ll take Jose Luis and David with us so we can film them at the ranch. We can ride horses out and look at some of the bulls. The fighting bull never sees a man on foot until he enters the ring.” “Why is that?” asked Gary. “If they see men on foot the bulls quickly learn the difference between a cape and a man. In fact, during a fight, the matador must judge how quickly the bull is learning and then kill it before the beast figures out the difference.” “God!” exclaimed Dennis, ever the creative director looking for a new hook to hang the drama on. “In one segment of the film, we’ve got to show how the great ones can look right into the brain of the bull and divine its learning curve.” “That might be kind of tricky,” laughed Freddie. “But we’ll sure give it a try if you can figure out how we do it.” “Actually, the really good bullfighters probably can read the bull’s body language,” said Dennis, running his fingers through his long and unruly hair excitedly, realizing he had probably hit on some great insight. “Shit! That’s it! Of course they can read the bull. Not just in the traditional sense like a boxer, but something along those lines.” 17

Bret Malory “If that’s what’s really happening, then we have to see several bullfights and find out if it’s a vital part of how the best bullfighters seem to dominate the bulls.” “Great idea. But first things first. Let’s get some fucking film in the can,” said Dennis, pulling up his own private movie screen in his mind as he planned the next shot.

On Saturday, Gary picked up all of the characters for the filming party, including the lovely girls, the novilleros and a very rich couple from Newport Beach in California who wanted to finance the bullfight for the young bullfighters. John and Peggy, the couple from California, had become fascinated with the young men and their aspirations. At least Peggy had a keen interest in their lean, hard bodies. John just hung in there with his much younger and beautiful wife to let her explore the fascination of having a sexual fling with somebody beside the young studs up in Hollywood. The villa that Freddie had leased for the crew during the filming in Guadalajara, majestically occupied two acres in an area called Las Lomas. The villa had been built by one of the scions of colonial Guadalajara history, but the family had 18

The Taurus Caper fallen on hard times through bouts of messy divorces, booze and hard drugs, leaving the few remaining descendents with no option except to try to sell the last of their real estate. However, the prime property was tied up in legal disputes and the probate lawyer could only lease it, so Freddie and the crew got the best piece of real estate in Guadalajara, more or less by default. Gary pulled the van through the gigantic wrought iron automatic gate. The imposing entrance, buttressed by two huge stone columns topped with weird and scary gargoyles, opened upon a magnificent and expansive space that displayed five flowing fountains, bright red bougainvillea plants cascading down the tiled roofs of the main house, orange trees, avocado trees, roses, statuary, and every other symbol of opulent wealth in that part of the world. Freddie and Dennis rushed out of the house to greet the newly arrived guests. “You guys live here?” exclaimed Primavera, stunned out of her mind by the movie-set quality of the wondrous villa . “It’s not much, but we call it home,” said Dennis in an understatement of self-deprecating humor. “I could live here forever,” exclaimed one of the other darling girls. “Hi, Dennis,” said Primavera. “Here we are and 19

Bret Malory we brought our bikinis.” “I just love girls who can follow instructions.” Primavera walked up to Dennis and gave him a kiss with lots of lips and tongue. “What do you think my instructions should be now?” Dennis put his arm around her waist and pulled her toward the entrance to the huge house. “There will be several layers of instruction before this day if over,” he said, delighting in the feel of her narrow waist. “But, my darling girl, I encourage improvisation and I encourage you to enthusiastically embrace any role I assign you.” “I love improvisation,” said Primavera, “and you will find I’m also very enthusiastic whenever I get involved in something I like.” “We will explore your tastes in detail before this day is over,” said Dennis. “I love tasting parties,” she said. Freddie waited inside, eager to give the guests a grand tour of the estate. “Welcome to Casa Blanca,” he said with a big smile. “So called, partly because the house is white, but mainly because that name evokes the memory of one of the greatest movies of all time.” Freddie took them through the gigantic main salon where the works of Post Impressionist artists, including Cezanne, Gauguin, van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec and Rousseau were prominently displayed. Of course, all of the oils happened to be 20

The Taurus Caper copies because the owners had long before auctioned off the originals. Freddie led the guests out through French doors onto an expansive lawn, gardens, fruit trees and colorful flowers, all meticulously manicured. On one side of the space reposed an Olympic size swimming pool with a wet bar, changing gazebos, showers, lounge chairs and tables with brightly colored umbrellas. A FronTenis court and a regular tennis court with clay surface, occupied the other side of the impressive outdoor area. “What a pleasure palace,” exclaimed Sandra. “We can have major fun with all of these goodies.” “They are all at your disposal,” said Freddie magnanimously. “This and an indoor arcade with all the latest video games, pool tables, ping-pong or whatever else you might enjoy.” A gazebo tent, open on all sides, had been set up on the lawn to shade the large table that would be used for lunch and drinks. Several servants rushed in and out of the house, placing tubs filled with ice, beer, sodas and white wines along one edge of the gazebo. The table was covered with a large cloth mantle that had been silk-screened with stills from all of Freddie’s movies, including one shot from his movie filmed on Grand Cayman with Bart Malloy and the fabulous Tammy. The picture showed Bart and Tammy just after they got knocked apart by a large wave during filming 21

Bret Malory of a very hot scene on the beach. Tammy’s top was off and Bart’s legendary cock had sprung full blown out of his tiny swimsuit. Freddie could be seen in the foreground shouting, ‘Cut!’ It was not only a memorable film because of that one scene, it also made a hell of a lot of money for Freddie and his crew. Gary had set up the boom camera, the steady cam, and the sound gear for the filming. Freddie assembled the cast of characters, including Jose Luis and David, Primavera and Sandra along with three other girls, plus the couple from Newport Beach. “OK, everyone, first of all I want to thank you for coming out here in the wilderness and having to go through these primitive conditions,” he said, bringing guffaws and hooting from the cast. “I could rough it like this every day of my life,” said Primavera effusively. “I’m sure you could, my dear,” said Freddie. “Now, here’s what I have in mind. I want all of you girls, in your sexy outfits, to sit and talk with David and Jose Luis while we have lunch. All we want is some pretty people having a good time in a beautiful place. We want to show the contrast of what might be for these kids if they make it in the bullring.” “What do we do?” asked Peggy, the lady from Newport Beach. 22

The Taurus Caper “You and John sit at the table and look rich,” said Dennis. The crew filmed several scenes around the table, with lots of smiles and flirting between the bullfighters and the young girls, while everyone drank, ate and looked like they were really enjoying the good life. Later the girls retired to the pool dressing rooms and put on their bikinis which set a whole new tone to the afternoon. “Good God!” exclaimed Dennis. “I haven’t seen this much tits and ass since Bay Watch.” “Should we film them running across the lawn in slow motion?” asked Freddie. “You know, like those girls on the beach, with buns and tits bouncing as they raced to save someone.” “I think a few shots at the pool with the boys and girls frolicking and splashing in the water will be sufficient,” said Dennis. “I kind of want to wrap this up and take a shot at Primavera.” Finally, as the sun dropped low in the west, with all the film in the can, Freddie, Gary and Dennis paused to discuss the day’s events. “What happened to John’s wife Peggy?” asked Freddie. “Old John is sitting there at the bar quietly getting smashed and his wife is nowhere to be seen.” “Have you noticed that Jose Luis is missing in action too?” “He may be missing but he sure isn’t missing any action.” Gary pointed to a large bush over by 23

Bret Malory the tennis courts that seemed to be shaking violently. They walked over and peeked around the bush. Peggy had her legs pointed at the sky with nothing separating her from Jose Luis except body juices. She had her fingernails dug into his ass as he thrust his cock deep into her voracious vagina. “Fuck me, you Mexican stud!” she wheezed as she pushed up against him. “Stick that sword deep into my heart, you fucking matador!” Jose Luis looked over his shoulder and saw Dennis, Freddie and Gary staring at the action. He smiled his brilliant smile without missing a beat, or without missing a thrust as the case may be. Primavera, Sandra and one of the other girls came up to see what all the commotion was about. Jose Luis thrust in and out, his tight butt and long cock clearly visible in the fading light. “What a perfect ending to a perfect day,” Primavera squeezed Dennis’ crotch. “Can anyone play this fun game?” Dennis grabbed her hand. “Follow me, my lovely, and we will make it a perfect ending to this perfect day.” He led her to his suite of rooms in the fabulous house. Primavera took in the luxurious rooms like an excited little girl checking out a new doll house. “This room gives me the urge to merge,” she said putting her arms around him. She pushed up 24

The Taurus Caper against him, wriggled back and forth on his crotch while his cock rose aggressively against her flat tummy. “I think you have the urge to merge, too,” she reached down inside his cargo shorts. She found the object of her search, wrapped her hand around it and stroked it gently while she kissed him deeply. “I like the way you get right to the heart of the matter, or the head of the merging device,” said Dennis. “You have a lovely and very large merging device,” she slipped down his shorts. “I want to see it up close.” She got down on her knees on the thick carpet and stared intently at his throbbing cock. “Most interesting,” she said. “Sandra told me a woman should get to know every thing about her man’s cock.” She lifted it up, moved it from side to side, and ran her fingers up and down the shaft as she examined it intently. Dennis stared in fascination as the lovely girl seemed almost worshipful at the shrine of his engorged phallus. The sight of her beautiful face, framed by long black hair and her luscious lips brought Dennis to a high state of readiness for whatever the darling girl had in mind. Primavera extended her exploration to his balls, gently cupping them with her hand as she rolled them around like a couple of large marbles. She 25

Bret Malory leaned in and lightly licked the underside of his testicles, ran her flicking tongue up the underside of his cock until she reached the head where she paused to circumnavigate the corona with the pointed pink pleasure instrument. “Wow!” she exclaimed, looking up into his eyes. “It tastes as good as it looks.” She puckered up her pouty lips, licked them, then slid her mouth down to just below the head. She stopped there as she swirled her tongue vigorously over the sensitive parts, at the same time tickling his balls while she hummed deeply, sending resonant vibrations from Dennis’ cock up to his brain and back again. She placed her other hand tightly around the shaft and moved it up and down while she continued the humming and licking “Do you want to cum in my mouth?” she asked with an innocence that knocked him for a loop. “That would be a wonderful thing,” he said, “but first I want to explore your body and your beautiful other parts.” “How do you know they are beautiful?” she asked, then started a very vigorous sucking up and down on his eager cock. Dennis pulled Primavera to her feet. “I intend to find out right now,” he said, leading her over to a stuffed arm chair. He slid down her bikini bottoms, exposing a completely bare pussy except 26

The Taurus Caper for a narrow strip of hair just above the opening. “Incredibly beautiful,” he said wondrously. He sat her on the chair, placed her lovely legs over each side of the stuffed arms which left her splayed wide open with her luscious ass and pussy poised right on the edge of the cushion, offering a tasty target for his eager tongue. “I love a man who takes charge.” Primavera squirmed in anticipation of what might come next. Dennis knelt in front of the cornucopia of female delights, drinking in the mysterious wonder of her sex. He used his fingers to spread her labia, causing her to twitch, as he leaned in and lightly licked the suddenly exposed clit. “Ohhh, my!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know about this stuff.” Dennis looked up into her flushed face. “You mean no man has ever done this to you?” he asked incredulously. “No woman, either,” she said breathlessly. “But why did you stop?” He dove back down, this time spreading the lips with his tongue, plunging in an out as his face bumped up against her pubis. He stopped that vigorous action and pushed his face up tight against the opening while he sucked with his lips and twirled with his tongue around the little pink delight. Primavera grabbed the back of his head and pulled him even tighter as she lifted her ass 27

Bret Malory up off the cushion. A deep growling started in her throat that increased in volume as an intense orgasm rocketed up from her clit to her brain and back again. She bucked and twitched like a rabid pony as the explosive release washed over her like giant waves of hot butter. Dennis, ever the opportunist, rose up, slid his cock up and down on the slick lips, then slowly entered her twitching pussy. Primavera’s eyes popped open in surprise. She looked down at the thick cock sliding into her, then back at Dennis. A brilliant smile spread across her glowing face. “Kiss me, Dennis, before I explode again.” He leaned down just as he completed the connection to the hilt and kissed her sweet lips. She sucked on his tongue and thrust up against him, trying to devour every last inch of his tingling woodie. She hung on tight as he started plunging in and out in a slurpy, slick connection that quickly brought them both to the magic moment. She started groaning again, this time more intensely, as he felt spasms of contractions around his cock that brought his juices rising like molten lava rushing to escape from his balls. “Ohhh,” she gasped. “Here it comes again!” She twitched and clawed his ass which caused Dennis to give up all control. “Me too!” he shouted as spurt after spurt of hot cum erupted into her fiery depths. 28

The Taurus Caper

Gary drove the van up through the valleys of the state of Jalisco, past tiny villages where everyone had some sort of stand along the highway, selling everything from hammocks to ‘original’ Aztec art. The film crew, along with Jose Luis and David, were on their way to a unique type of ranch that specialized in raising fighting bulls. The Ganaderia de Sabastian, located on 600 acres of rolling hills and grasslands, had been in the business of raising fighting bulls for over one hundred years. The founder of the ranch, Don Antonio Sabastian, had immigrated to Mexico from Spain in 1856 and took a job as a young man on a ranch in the area. By the time he was fifty, after marrying very well, he had accumulated wealth and status in the community around southern Jalisco, and was poised to do what he wanted most in this world; to start a fighting bull ranch using the best of the breed imported from Spain. Now, the fourth generation of the progeny of the original Don Sabastian, had gained the reputation of supplying the most ferocious and brave fighting bulls available in Mexico. No bulls had more prestige in the most famous venues in all of Mexico and South America than the fighting 29

Bret Malory bulls of Sabastian. Freddie knew he couldn’t afford the great bulls from Sabastian, but he also knew that the ranch supplied other bulls that couldn’t quite make it to the big leagues and especially the novillos, the three year old bulls that weighed less than 300 kilos. Those were the bulls he wanted for his film, those were the bulls he wanted to challenge Jose Luis and David in the ring in Guadalajara. Gary drove the van through the imposing entrance to the ranch, where giant columns rose above the gate announcing the name, ‘Sabastian’. Huge statues of fighting bulls, whose most prominent feature was incredibly large gonads that hung down like swollen peaches, and horns that swept out in curving, menacing, pointed weapons of destruction. “Look at those fuckers!” exclaimed Dennis as they passed through the gate. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to get in front of those horns.” “I would,” said David with great confidence. “Someday I will fight the best.” “Get a grip, kid,” said Dennis. “Why would you risk your life in front of those horns?” “Because I want to be a great torero,” David said with total conviction. “It is my destiny.” Dennis turned to Freddie. “Do you think this shithead will live long enough for us to finish the film?” 30

The Taurus Caper “We’ll soon find out,” said Freddie. “I’ve arranged for him to fight a small bull here at the ranch.” “He’s never faced a live bull,” said Dennis. “Do you think that’s wise?” “He either does it or not, either way we get footage.” ‘Your are one cold blooded son-of-a-bitch,” said Dennis. “Hey, it’s his choice. This is what he wants to do,” said Freddie. “Actually, we’re giving him a wonderful opportunity.” Gary drove the van through the impressive gates to the hacienda and was directed to a parking spot by a servant. The latest leader of the Sabastian family, Don Miguel, stood majestically at the entrance of the impressive house, like an emperor awaiting the peasants. “Bienvenidos, welcome, mi casa es su casa,” he said effusively. “I am gratified that you have chosen my Ganaderia for your important film.” “Thank you for inviting us,” said Freddie, shaking Don Miguel’s hand. “This is the way we do it in Mexico,” said Don Miguel, giving Freddie a bear hug. “And these are the novilleros?” He looked intently at David and Jose Luis. Freddie introduced the film crew and the aspiring bullfighters. Don Miguel walked around 31

Bret Malory the young men as if he were inspecting one of his bulls. “They look like they might become a matador someday. Tall, handsome, and they both seem to have a certain self-assured quality that all great bullfighters possess.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But of course, all of that means nothing if they cannot stand firm in front of one of my bulls.” “I will stand firm in front of any bull,” said David with great conviction. “We shall see,” said Don Miguel. “But first we are going riding,” he said as the stable boys brought several horses around to the front of the house. “Where to?” asked Freddie. “Out to the range where we keep the bulls.” “Then Gary and Dennis will drive the van so they can film you and the bulls along with the novilleros,” said Freddie. The group rode out through the verdant hills, through empty space that stretched to the horizon, through amazing vistas where huge fighting bulls grazed placidly among pretty yellow flowers, through a land that seemed to be frozen in time. “Look at this,” said Dennis to Gary. “We have to capture this tranquility, right here in these beautiful fields, and we have to contrast this pastoral scene with what happens when these animals burst into the ring to kill or be killed.” 32

The Taurus Caper “Holly shit!” exclaimed Gary. “Don’t get fucking carried away. This is just Slaughterhouse Five, only the bulls here have a sporting chance.” “And there’s the difference.” Dennis was really getting on a roll with his theme. “I mean, if you were reincarnated as a bull, would you rather be slaughtered in a dark abattoir or maybe goring the shit out of some cocky bullfighter out in the brilliant sun of a bullring?” “You know me, Dennis,” said Gary reflectively. “I’d go for the ring.” “Yes!” exclaimed Dennis. “That’s all anyone wants. A chance to go down fighting, whether it be for your life or for some cause.” “I’m not much for causes,” laughed Gary. “But, as you know, I will sure as hell fight for my life.” “Can’t you think of any cause you would die for?” asked Dennis incredulously, ever the altruist. “No. But I can think of several that I would live for,” said Gary thoughtfully. “Besides, most of the causes that people are asked to die for are for the glory of some fucking politician spewing propaganda. Look at Vietnam and Iraq. How much flag waving and scare tactics went into those fiascos? And for what?” “I agree with you on that one,” said Dennis. “I wouldn’t fight for any of that bullshit either. What I was talking about was maybe defending freedom of speech, or property, or your loved ones.” 33

Bret Malory “But Dennis, if you die for those causes you’re not around to defend them. I mean, there are other ways of defending those things. Like killing the bad motherfuckers first.” Dennis placed the steady-cam on his shoulder and aimed it out the open sliding door of the van. “Just drive slowly alongside the riders while I get some of this pastoral footage.” The riders stopped on a small rise overlooking several of the fighting bulls grazing peacefully on the verdant grass. Dennis climbed on top of the van to get a better perspective of the men talking while the bulls loomed black and ominous in the background. He visualized a cut from this scene to one of a bull charging out into the brilliant sunshine of the ring. Don Miguel brought the riders over to the van. “See those notches on the bull’s ears?” He pointed at one of the bulls. “We make our own distinctive notch plus our brand is unique and also we have our own colors. Just before the bull enters the ring through the toril gate, a divisa, a sort of rosette with our colors on it, is inserted into the bull’s hide with a long spring-loaded pole.” Don Miguel smiled and shrugged. “You see, that little bit of pain spurs the bull through the gate and, when he charges out into the bright sunlight, the colors identify him as a Sabastian bull to the aficionados.” 34

The Taurus Caper Freddie moved his horse up next to Don Miguel. “You mentioned something about one of my boys fighting one of your young bulls.” “Are you sure you want one of these novices to face even a small one of my young bulls?” asked Don Miguel with just a touch of irony. “Well, you know that David is very eager to see what he can do against a real fighting bull,” said Freddie. “If you can arrange something like that it would make some interesting footage for my film.” “We have a small bull ring here where we test the cows and the seed bulls,” said Don Miguel thoughtfully. “I could arrange for him to confront our latest seed bull. This particular bull weighs only about 300 kilos but he’s very strong and very fast.” “What do you think?” Freddie turned to David. “Give me the chance, Mr. Bonner,” said David earnestly. “I know I can handle a bull that small.” Don Miguel looked at the handsome young novillero with a bemused smile. “Then I will arrange it. Fortunately we have a skilled doctor and a small medical facility here for just such insanity,” he added ominously.

The small bull ring, set in the midst of an avocado 35

Bret Malory orchard about a hundred meters from the main house, was an exact miniature replica of the Plaza Monumental in Mexico City. Instead of rows of seats, the quaint ring had terraced areas with picnic tables where fine Mexican wine, cheese and a variety of snacks were served to the spectators while they watched the spectacle below. The film crew, along with Don Miguel and some of his men, sat at one of the tables sipping tequilas, while they laughed and joked about the anticipated fun and games between the young novillero and the seed bull. David stood nervously behind the Barrera, waiting for the young bull to emerge from the tunnel. David had worn cowboy boots to the ranch and didn’t have a pair of the small ballerina type slippers that bullfighters wear, so he decided to face the bull barefoot. What neither David nor Freddie knew about this particular bull was that the bull had been caped a few times during the testing period and knew the difference between a cape and a man on foot. That wisdom made the bull extremely dangerous, especially to a novice like David. Of course, Don Miguel and his compadres knew perfectly well what could happen, and delightfully drank their tequilas while they awaited the entrance into the ring of the young seed bull. Suddenly, the bull charged into the ring and 36

The Taurus Caper headed straight for one of the handlers. The handler danced away, swirling the large cape in a big arc while he ducked behind the barrera. The bull, frustrated and angry that his prey had escaped, banged one of his long pointed horns into the thick wooden barrier. David watched the enraged animal as he unfolded his cape in preparation for the frightening confrontation. David looked up at Freddie and the crew, gave them a thumbs up, then ran out from behind the barrier, straight at the young bull. The bull, sighting a target, spun around, reached full speed, lowered his head and charged at the young bullfighter. David executed a perfect veronica pass and the bull roared by not an inch from his body. The bull spun quickly, eager to attack the man again. David stood rock solid, then at the last split second he swirled the cape out from his body, knowing that the bull would attack the cloth again. But this bull had different ideas, he didn’t even glance at the cape, just charged straight at the man. David started to back up but the bull was too fast and caught him squarely between the sharply pointed horns. The bull’s skull slammed into David’s midsection with a loud thump, knocking him up into the air in a slow motion pirouette as the bull raced underneath the helpless bullfighter. David crashed onto the soft turf, stunned and gasping for air as the bull spun around, eager to 37

Bret Malory renew the slaughter. Freddie jumped to his feet in horror. “Get him out of there!” he yelled as Gary continued filming. Several handlers rushed out to distract the wild beast while two others tried to pick up David and get him out of the ring. Someone opened the gate from the ring to the corral and, miraculously, the bull turned and raced out through the opening. Freddie and Dennis jumped down into the ring and hurried over to David. “That fucking son-of-a-bitch nailed me,” gasped David, writhing in pain. “I think you were set up,” said Dennis, as the handlers got David to his feet. “I heard Don Miguel say that this bull had been caped so many times he knew the difference between a man and a cape.” “That bastard!” exclaimed Freddie, just as Don Miguel arrived with a bemused smile on his face. Freddie turned and glared at rancher. “Why did you try to kill my boy?” “I don’t know what you mean,” answered Don Miguel innocently. “You knew that bull had been in the ring with men before and he knew the difference between a man and a cape. You should have warned me.” “We were just having a little fun.” “David could have been killed.” “Ah, but he wasn’t. So he has maybe learned 38

The Taurus Caper something about the bulls.” “And I have learned a hell of a lot about you,” said Freddie. He turned angrily and hurried to catch up with the group that was helping David out of the ring. David was taken to a small medical facility next to the ring that was used for just such emergencies. Don Miguel had a doctor on site there when they arrived. The doctor quickly examined the young bullfighter, felt his ribcage looking for broken bones and then told the nurse to take an x-ray. “I don’t think any ribs are broken but we need to see. He might have some internal injuries but that won’t show up for a few hours.” Don Miguel peeked in the door. “Is he all right?” “No thanks to you and your sick sense of a joke,” replied Freddie, still seething in anger “Senor Bonner, please calm down. I have a few guests here for lunch and I want all of you to join us.” Dennis stepped over to Don Miguel. “We’ll join your little lunch,” he said. “We want to get some film of you gloating over your great victory over a poor unsuspecting kid.” A look of concern darted across the rancher’s face. “There will be no gloating. This is a tough and brutal business and sometimes we lose our 39

Bret Malory sense of perspective.” “Well David almost lost his life,” said Freddie. “I am extremely sorry I put your bullfighter in danger,” said Don Miguel. “For what it’s worth, he executed a brilliant veronica on the first pass.” He turned and walked back out of the clinic. “I guess we have to put up with that kind of bullshit if we want to finish this film,” said Freddie. “Did you hear what Don Miguel said?” asked David. “I executed a brilliant veronica.” “It was brilliant,” added Jose Luis. “You just needed one more chance with that bull.” Dennis looked at the two novilleros in disbelief. “You crazy bunch of shitheads. Don’t you realize David was almost killed?” “But he got to face a real bull!” exclaimed Jose Luis. “I wish I would have had that chance.” Dennis looked at Freddie in bewilderment. “What do we have here? Two crazy fuckers who only get blow jobs under the stands and don’t even realize the value of their lives.” “We just want to be bullfighters,” said David plaintively. “Whatever it takes.” “Let’s go see what kind of a spread Don Miguel puts on for his guests,” suggested Freddie. “We can at least drink his booze and eat his food.”

40

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A large tent with no sides had been set up under a huge Banyan tree on the grassy area behind the main house. Bullfight posters from fights that included Sabastian bulls hung from the limbs of the Banyan creating a colorful backdrop for the party. A Mariachi band belted out songs of heartbreak and love, heroes and bandits, and especially about cowboys and bullfighters. A well stocked bar with two lovely girl bartenders operated at one side of the tent while the chef and helpers roasted carnitas and chickens on outdoor chimineas, sending delectable aromas out into the warm afternoon air. Don Miguel sat at a large table with two of his men and three stunning ladies. Don Miguel spotted Freddie and his group as they were led into the party area by one of the servants. “Freddie!” he shouted. “Bring your compadres over here and join us.” Don Miguel rose and presented his guests to the novilleros and the film crew. One of the women, a very exotic brunette, dressed in a traditional Mexican cowgirl outfit with a black wide brimmed hat, leather skirt and black pointed boots, looked up at Freddie from beneath the brim of her hat. “I am Cecilia Montes,” she said in a well modulated voice. “And you are the famous film 41

Bret Malory director,” she said, flashing her dark eyes. “I saw your film on the Maya that won the Academy Award and I thought it was terrific.” “Well, thank you very much.” Freddie was immediately taken by this classy lady. “We hope this film will please you too.” “It will indeed please me because I know you have the soul of an artist and you can visualize and present the drama and pageantry of the corrida in a way that will capture the imagination of aficionados as well as those who do not know much about this magnificent pageant.” “My God!” exclaimed Freddie. “You should write movie scripts. Cecilia, you have an incredible way with words.” “I am a writer,” she said, as if that explained all. “And I love the corrida.” “Would you like to help us write the narration to this film?” he asked impulsively. Her exotic eyes opened wide in surprise. “You would let me do that?” “Well, you are a writer, you know about the corrida and you would look great on camera.” “I could be in your film?” she asked coquettishly. “You think I am presentable enough to appear on camera?” “My dear,” said Freddie effusively, “you would enhance our film beyond belief.” “Then I will do it,” she said decisively. She 42

The Taurus Caper leaned in and gave Freddie a hug. “I think we can work well together.” Freddie felt her slim body press against him and returned the hug. She stepped back and looked up into his eyes. “Do you think we can work well together?” “I am positive we can work together,” said Freddie. “How about joining the party?” shouted Don Miguel to the couple, breaking the spell of the connection that had developed between Freddie and Cecilia. The party developed into a raucous, vibrating explosion of Mexican fun as the tequila, sangria and Tecate flowed while Mariachis played loudly. Dennis and Gary filmed wild scenes of revelers on the beautiful bull ranch knowing that they would add colorful cultural ambience to the documentary. Don Miguel played the role of lord of the manor to the hilt, singing along with the Mariachis, offering toasts to the guests, making sure everyone was supplied with food and drink, all the while displaying a friendly and egalitarian demeanor to servants as well as guests. As the sun hung low in the west Don Miguel quieted the Mariachis and made an announcement. “My dear friends. I would like all of you to be my guests tonight so you don’t have to drive all 43

Bret Malory the way back to the city when you are full of good food and good booze. I have plenty of extra bedrooms for everyone and I think you will find it very peaceful here at night, if that’s all right with you wonderful people.” He looked around to see if anyone might not want to stay. “Good. I have instructed the staff to prepare everything and don’t worry about any articles you may need including clothing, we are as well prepared as a five star hotel.” The party continued on into the night. The servants set up lanterns around the tent and a salsa band miraculously appeared. The tables were cleared of the used china and silver, immediately replaced with sparkling traditional place settings. Cooks brought out portable stoves to prepare another feast for later in the evening while workers laid down a small dance floor. Freddie sat with Cecilia in a small gazebo on the edge of the garden watching the action as twilight descended like a comfortable mantle around them. “Do you know that Don Miguel assigned us rooms right next to each other?” said Cecilia with a wry smile. “I think he wants to be a matchmaker.” “I suddenly like that sly, conniving bastard,” laughed Freddie. “I got here too late for his sick attempt at humor,” said Cecilia earnestly. “This profession is 44

The Taurus Caper far too dangerous as it is without having to stack the odds against any bullfighter, especially a novillero like David.” “I love your passion for this whole business,” said Freddie. “I am a very passionate woman.” She squeezed his leg with her lovely hand. “About many things.” “Should I lock my door tonight?” he asked whimsically. “Only if you’re afraid of discovery,” she said. “I’m not going to lock mine, at least until you are safely inside.” The titillating talk increased the sexual tension between them, increased the feeling of intimacy they had developed in such a short time. “You are a very exciting lady,” said Freddie. “Of course you’re extremely beautiful and sexy but you also are so articulate and intelligent. I like that aspect as much as your physical aspects.” “As they say, the brain is the biggest sex organ we humans possess. Maybe we can mind-fuck later tonight,” she added mysteriously. That remark brought Freddie to tingling attention. “Just how does one go about this mindfuck thing?” “If you’re interested, I can give you a complete demonstration later,” she said coquettishly, only slightly drunk from the tequila. 45

Bret Malory “With that erotic thought on my largest sex organ,” laughed Freddie, “I don’t know if I can make it through dinner.” “Maybe the anticipation will make it even more exciting. We’ll find out later. But if I’m going to help you with this film, I also need to get to know those novilleros, David and Jose Luis.” “Look at them,” Freddie pointed at the young men dancing with two cute girls. “Other than one party at my villa in Guadalajara, those two crazies haven’t tasted the good life. They both think they’ll become famous bullfighters and this will be normal behavior.” “It will be a very interesting odyssey for me to follow their progress.” She leaned in and kissed Freddie with a loose-lipped sliding kiss. “Of course, I’m anxious to follow our progress too.” Cecilia had taken off her wide brimmed Spanish style black hat, revealing totally, her exotic eyes, her beautifully sculptured nose, her full lips surrounding perfect teeth that accentuated her large, sensuous mouth. Her jet black hair hung down in loose curls, setting off her classic face in a natural frame that Freddie found delightfully compelling. He drank in the exciting sight, devouring her beauty with his eyes. “Sometimes it is impolite to stare,” she lowered her long eyelashes over her eyes. “But I love it when you gaze at me like this.” 46

The Taurus Caper “Am I like a mongoose staring at a cobra?” “As I remember Kipling, the mongoose killed the cobra.” “I would love to kill you in the French style, with love.” “Oh, you mean le petite mort, the French term for the orgasm,’ she said. “I think I would enjoy that very much.” “If you don’t stop all of this erotic talk,” said Freddie, “I’m going to drag you off to your room. ”Macho, macho, man,” she sang in a lilting voice. The rest of the evening spun around them with its own momentum. Freddie felt like he was on a camera boom filming the scene in some abstract, visual, cinematic way that looked great when projected on a big screen, but which left him as some detached director. Finally, after the fine food, and a lot of drinks, Cecilia grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Our time has come.” She gave him a hot, sexy kiss, with lots of full lips and tongue. Freddie returned her kiss with building passion. “My God!” he exclaimed. “You are some kind of a kissing fool.” “So are you,” she said breathlessly. “I have found that men who kiss really well, also know about other oral aspects of sex.” “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about,” said Freddie drunkenly, “I have 47

Bret Malory wanted to taste your sweet sex ever since I saw you.” “Then let’s go do it,” she replied, licking his lips as she reached down and squeezed his gathering erection. “Let’s take a shower,” suggested Cecilia when they reached the room. “We can soap up and have a lot of erotic fun while we get clean.” “Cleanliness is next to erotic fun,” said Freddie. “I think the expression is, cleanliness is next to godliness,” she replied as she slid down her leather skirt, revealing no panties, a flat tummy and a wonderland of female goodies. She unbuttoned her bolero blouse and dropped it to the floor, exposing two perfectly formed, perky breasts with cherry-tipped naughty nipples. Cecilia walked, naked except for her spiked heeled boots, up to Freddie, and pressed her delightful body against him while she started a grinding, passionate kiss. She reached down, unbuttoned his cargo shorts and let them drop to the floor. She slid her hand up and down his raging erection as she moaned into his mouth. “Forget the shower.” Freddie picked her up and placed her on the bed. “I want to taste your real essence, without soap, without perfume, just the sweet juices of you.” Cecilia looked up at him and smiled. She opened her legs wide, reached down, slid her 48

The Taurus Caper finger over and into the pouting slippery lips, then put the finger in her mouth and sucked on it. “Um,” she said. “It does taste good. Want to try it?” Freddie dove between her legs like a desperate man searching for the Holy Grail. He slipped his thick tongue into the exact spot recently vacated by her finger, but he flicked and sucked, hummed and twirled his tongue, and breathed his hot breath and mouth on her swollen pussy, something her finger could not possibly do. Cecilia, caught up in the unexpected assault on all her female parts, jerked her head up and looked at the magnificent connection as bolts of lightning rocketed from his hot mouth to her clit to her brain and back again. “Ohhh,” she gasped as she bucked her hips against his eager face. She grabbed the back of his head, grasping his long blond hair in a death grip and pulled him up tight, as if she wanted to devour his entire face. She suddenly screamed and twitched out of control, writhing and grinding liked a manic puppet as a massive orgasm shook her to the core. Freddie hung on, weathering the storm, glorying in the delight of giving this wonderful lady such a passionate release. Cecilia flopped back, legs splayed and dripping from her juices and his saliva, the pink glowing tunnel winking invitingly to his rock hard cock. 49

Bret Malory Freddie, never one to pass up an opportunity, rose up, slid his throbbing woodie between the swollen lips, then slowly drove it in to the hilt as he felt the aftershocks of her amazing orgasm whirling around his thick shaft. But Cecilia wasn’t through, she suddenly realized that this aggressive, passionate invasion into her very essence, was bringing on another climax. She dug her fingernails into his ass, spreading his cheeks while the next orgasm washed over her like a tsunami wave from the far Pacific. Cecilia pulled his face down for a deep kiss, sucking his tongue and moaning deeply while she savored the delightful sensations that shook her body. “Fuck me hard,” she demanded. “We can get to the mind-fuck later.” Freddie was on the verge of his own release but that remark, and all the tequila, set him off in a laughing fit. “I forgot all about the mind-fuck.” “I’m glad,” she said. “Because that was the greatest, all time oral climax and cock fuck orgasm that I have ever experienced,” she said, her eyes slightly glazed. “Sure,” he said, his cock still getting great pussy hugs. “But what about me?” “Freddie,” she said, looking at him with a post orgasmic smile. “Pull that thing out of my pussy and I will show you how good a fantastic male orgasm can be.” 50

The Taurus Caper Freddie slipped it out, still covered with her sweet juices. Cecilia sat up as he stood beside the bed, his slippery organ thrusting out like the Colossus of Rhodes. She looked up into his eyes, licked the ooze on the tip, then took it into her mouth in a long sliding swallowing of his entire cock, right to the hilt, deep in her throat. Freddie let out a low groan as he felt the intense connection of her mouth and her swirling tongue on his tingling organ. She grabbed the shaft tightly, following her mouth up and down and she sucked like a woman possessed. She took her other hand and cupped it around his balls, moving them in a sensuous circle while one finger snaked back and messaged his tender ass opening. The combination of sensations triggered the expected release as his balls sucked up and the inexorable rush of a cum, shot out into her hot mouth and down her throat. She continued the vigorous sucking until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “God!” he exclaimed. “I’m jangling like a glockenspiel!” Cecilia looked up into his face. “I rang you like a glockenspiel?” she asked with a slick smile on her face. “And I think you just hit me with a C sharp,” he exclaimed, as the last drops of his essence trickled down her chin. 51

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Back in Guadalajara, the film crew finished the planning for the novillada, the bullfight for the novilleros that would feature David and Jose Luis. Freddie and Dennis met with a local impresario who arranged minor spectacles such as novilladas and rodeos, to discuss the financing and logistics of the bullfight. The impresario, a very fat and pompous man who fancied himself as a mover and shaker, disdainfully explained to the blond gringo how things would be if he set up the fight. “Sr. Bonner,” he said through thick lips. “If you want me to secure the small bull ring for your fight, I will need a sizeable advance. I mean, I do not go through these exercises if I am not assured of monetary gain.” “Fine,” said Freddie, really pissed off at this puffed up buffoon. “I have a few other contacts and I’ll get back to you.” “Now, now, now, Sr. Bonner,” said the fat fool. “I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot. I am the best in this part of Mexico for what you need. I suggest we go over what you have in mind and I will tell you how much I require up front.” “All we need is a small bullring, the personnel to handle the show and the crowd, publicity, ticket sales, etc.” said Freddie patiently. “We have four 52

The Taurus Caper novillo bulls already bought and paid for and we have two bullfighters.” “We can do all that. First of all, I can get us a small ring that is used for rodeos and an occasional novillada. For the fight we need two picadors with horses, six peons or helpers, people to sell tickets and handle the crowd and we can contract vendors for a percentage of sales.” “How much would all that cost?” asked Freddie. “Patience, Sr. Bonner. See, we can structure this so my company takes all of the ticket receipts, all the vendor percentage and you supply the bulls and the novilleros. Of course, the novilleros will receive nothing except the experience and the publicity.” “The bulls are the most expensive part of this whole endeavor,” said Freddie. “Don’t we get a cut of the profit for supplying the bulls?” “There will be a butcher on hand to take care of each bull as it is killed. The money from the sale of the beef will go directly to you.” “If you’re going to take all the profits from the fight, why do you need money up front?” asked Freddie. “Well, the whole thing might not attract any interest. What if no one buys tickets? I need a small retainer in case of a complete financial flop,” said the impresario, shrugging his fat shoulders 53

Bret Malory expansively to show he was just trying to be fair. “If you do make a profit, do I get the retainer back?” “There will be a complete financial accounting.” “How much do you want up front?” asked Freddie warily. “Just ten thousand pesos, about a thousand dollars.” “And I’ll get it back if this thing makes money?” “Of course. Trust me, my friend.” “Get the contracts ready and I’ll get the money,” said Freddie, not trusting this guy as far as he could throw him. He turned away without shaking hands. “Let’s go have a beer,” suggested Dennis. “We need to wash some of this shit out of our mouths.” The two filmmakers crossed the street to the El Rincon bar where most of the bullfight crowd hung out. They grabbed a table by the window and ordered two Tecate beers with salt and lime. A tall man, dressed from head to toe like a flamboyant clown, walked up to the table. “I beg your pardon,” he said in perfect English with a slight British accent. “You are the gentlemen who are making the novillero film?” “That’s us,” said Freddie, bemused by the strange clown. “Please sit down.” “Thank you,” said the clown, sitting across the 54

The Taurus Caper table from Freddie and Dennis. “I don’t wish to disturb you, but I think I have a story that might prove of interest.” “I am Freddie, the Producer and Director of the film, and this is Dennis, my Artistic Director, and we’re always interested in good stories.” “I am the clown, Firulais,” he said as he shook hands. Dennis looked down at the white gloves on the clown’s hands and smiled. “Why the clown outfit?” “I am always dressed as Firulais,” he said seriously. “And that is part of the story. The other part of the story is a young man’s dream to become a famous bullfighter.” “Now you’ve got our attention,” said Freddie. “Do you want something to drink?” Firulais laughed. “The big red nose makeup hides a real big red nose,” he said. “Yes, I will have a tequila.” Freddie and Dennis looked expectantly at Firulais, waiting for the story to begin. The clown smiled through his brightly painted lips. “This story begins more than forty five years ago,” he said in his beautifully modulated voice. “At that time I was a young lad of fifteen and my family was the richest dynasty in all of Mexico, with silver mines, hotels, newspapers, resorts, ranches, boats, airplanes, and all the other 55

Bret Malory accoutrements of the obscenely wealthy.” Firulais paused dramatically and took a sip of his tequila. “Wonderful stuff, this cactus juice,” he said. “Actually, it’s a national treasure.” He looked back at the filmmakers through his clown-painted eyes. “That lad of fifteen wanted to be a bullfighter,” he said. “But, you see, bullfighters only emerge from the poverty stricken classes, much like prizefighters. You have to have that burning hunger in your stomach that is stronger than the pain of a bull’s horn, at least that is what my father told me when I said I wanted to be a bullfighter. He told me I was being groomed to take over the vast Villanueva empire, that I had a manifest destiny because I was the prodigal son, the last male progeny of the family.” Firulais, whose real name was Carlos, continued the compelling story, while the beer and tequila flowed. His father had insisted that the young man continue his schooling, even sent him to a military school in Los Angeles to teach him discipline and self-reliance. Carlos rebelled after one year and enlisted his doting mother to intervene and keep him from returning to the hated school. “I pleaded with my mother to let me try bullfighting,” the clown said. “She finally convinced my father to let me join a novillero 56

The Taurus Caper school in Mexico City for the summer, just so I might get it out of my system. I practiced diligently and really began to believe I could actually be a bullfighter.” But the father had other ideas. He just wanted to teach Carlos a lesson, so he arranged for his son to participate in a novillada in a small ring outside of Mexico City, and he made sure the bulls would be particularly mean and aggressive. “My first fight was a disaster,” said the clown sadly. “The bull tossed me around like a rag doll and all I could do was run like a coward. Well, at least, I wasn’t gored. The crowed booed and tossed cushions and beer bottles at me until I had to retreat out of the ring in total disgrace, limping and bruised, both by the bull and the beer bottles.” “Sounds like a lot of fun,” said Dennis. “I was possessed by the thought of being a torero,” said the clown plaintively. “What happened then?” asked Freddie. “My father suddenly died,” he said. “As sick as it sounds, I thought, finally I could be a bullfighter, because I knew I could persuade my mother.” “But you had just found out you weren’t much of a bullfighter,” said Dennis. “Yes, but I was young and I thought sheer determination could make it happen if only my mother didn’t stand in the way.” 57

Bret Malory And the mother succumbed to the pleading of her only child. She reasoned that he had to get the bullfighting business out of his system, even though he might be gored or worse. She searched out the best school for young bullfighters. Money, of course, was no problem, and she learned that a famous school in Madrid was the best. The only problem was that Carlos had to prove he was worthy of the famous school by participating in a very rigorous series of tests that included artistry with the cape, courage in front of small test bulls, and dedication to the taurino world. “My mother sent me to Spain to fulfill my dream,” said the clown. “I couldn’t even pass the tryout school. I came home in disgrace.” “So that must have put an end to your bullfighting dreams,” said Freddie. “It did for three years. During that time my mother sent me to New York to attend the Juilliard school of drama and acting, to polish up my speaking skills and appearing before crowds because she wanted me to take over the family business. But then my mother suddenly died and I inherited the whole empire. I thought, at last, I can finally fulfill my dream, as sick as that might sound.” The clown shook his head sadly. “I hired an impresario to stage a bullfight, with me and two other well-known novilleros as the main attractions. Of course the bullfight sold out, 58

The Taurus Caper mainly because everyone wanted to see me get gored or killed because I was a rich a spoiled member of the oligarchy.” Carlos trained for a month and became quite proficient with the cape and the technical aspects of being a bullfighter. But none of that made any difference. His first bull, huge and black, tossed him around like a stuffed toy, finally slashing a long gash in the clown’s leg, which ended the day for him. He was carried out of the ring to jeers and a hail of seat cushions from the aficionados who had paid for just such an ending. “The doctors patched up my body but they couldn’t help my pride. I seethed for months, thinking I could have been great if only fate hadn’t dealt me such an unpredictable bull. One of my trainers told me I could never be a bullfighter as long as I had no hunger in my stomach. He said I had to be poor to be able to stand fearlessly in front of the horns.” So Carlos sold all of his silver mines and hotels and gave the money to charity. He told his financial team to spend money recklessly but some of the investments were bringing in more money than he could spend. Finally, he told his accountant to lease a fully staffed cruise ship, invite hundreds of guests to cruise with him around the world with everything free, and to keep going until the money ran out. 59

Bret Malory “One day, the accountant announced that we were indeed broke, that he had sold everything just to pay the bills” said the Clown. “Can you imagine my jubilation? At last I could become a famous bullfighter because I was poor and would soon feel the hunger in my belly.” He finally convinced an impresario to stage the fight, mainly because he was so famous and people thought he was so incredibly stupid to get rid of all of his money. Besides, Carlos could fill the venue just because so many people wanted to see him get humiliated again. And, as anyone could have predicted, Carlos again showed no skill at bullfighting, barely escaped with his life, and limped out of the ring in shame. The difference with this fight was that Carlos had to contend with poverty as well as humiliation and failure. “I started acting in some local productions and found I was quite good, so good in fact that a major road and touring company hired me. We traveled all over the world, putting on classical and modern plays to receptive audiences and acclaim.” The clown shook his curly wig as if trying to recall those glory days. “But something strange began to happen to me. I started to lose myself so completely in my roles that it took longer and longer to get my own personality back. Finally, I played the role of a 60

The Taurus Caper clown and I became the clown, in my mind and in my body. I never removed the makeup, even after the play was over. I decided if I was going to completely become someone else then why not a clown?” Carlos smiled a sad, self deprecating smile. “So I became a clown and I have not been out of character or out of makeup for twenty six years. I entertain kids at birthday parties and things like that and I spread joy and happiness wherever I go.” “Wow!” exclaimed Dennis. “Your life would make a great movie.” “It certainly would,” agreed Freddie. “When we finish our bullfight documentary we might want to discuss it with you.” The clown smiled expansively, jumped to his feet and hugged the two filmmakers. “A film about my life by a famous filmmaker would be a wonderful thing.” “I’m not promising anything,” said Freddie. “But I do think it’s worth exploring.” “I need no promises,” said Carlos. “Just the possibility of such a film will fill my days and nights with hope and excitement.” The clown shook hands, and with great dignity, walked out of the restaurant.

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Bret Malory The impresario had secured a small venue on the outskirts of town that was usually used for rodeos or cattle auctions, but only occasionally for bullfights. Freddie and the film crew, accompanied by Jose Luis and David, inspected the ring along with the fat man to see if it would be suitable for the filming. Cecilia, who had been hired to help with the production as technical director and to write the narration, had arrived in town, much to the joy of Freddie. Cecilia, looking stunning in her bolero outfit and hat, took notes and stayed close to Freddie. “You see, Sr. Bonner,” said the impresario, sweating profusely, “all we have to do is decorate a bit with some bunting and bright colored paper and balloons and it will be fine.” “I kind of like the run-down appearance of the place,” said Dennis. “We can use it to show the contrast between the dumps where the novilleros perform compared with the opulence of a great venue when we film at the Monumental in Mexico City.” “What date do you have set for the fight?” asked Freddie. “Three weeks from Sunday, on the 27th,” said the impresario. “They will bring in the bulls two days before the fight to get them used to the facility and calm them down.” “What about advertising and promotion?” 62

The Taurus Caper asked Dennis. “I will take out two ads in the newspapers and we are having posters printed, the ones Dennis designed. I’ll have the posters pasted up all over town,” said the fat man officiously to show he was on top of everything. “Let’s put on a parade through the center of town,” suggested Cecilia. “We can rent three or four convertibles, have David and Jose Luis ride in them, surrounded by some of those pretty girls and have the girls pass out programs along the way. We can put the posters on the side of the cars, maybe even get a rock band to perform on a flatbed truck.” “Great idea!” Freddie looked at Cecilia with admiration. “What about the concessions at the fight? We’ll need beer, food and refreshments.” “I contracted a company for those services,” said the fat man. “Of course, we get a cut of the action. I have also contracted a company to supply the horses and picadors, as well as the rest of the peones.” “What about our traje de luces, our uniforms?” asked Jose Luis. “We have to look good in the ring.” “I will have you fitted at a company that specializes in renting those things, just like tuxedos.” said the impresario. “Unless Sr. Bonner wishes to buy you some nice new ones.” 63

Bret Malory “I think we’ll spare that expense until we see how these boys perform,” laughed Freddie. “You don’t have to worry about us,” said Jose Luis. “We will cut two ears each.” “I’ll be happy if you just survive,” said Freddie. “We will need three cameras,” said Dennis. “We’ll have the steady cam right behind the barrera and Gary can set up the boom camera on that platform over there so we can get some dramatic overhead shots. We’ll mount the third camera on a tripod on the opposite side of the ring.” “That should about cover it,” said Freddie. “I think we have ourselves a bullfight.” “We’ll be ready,” said David confidently. “This is my destiny.” Freddie turned to Dennis, thinking about the tragic clown. “Haven’t we heard that before?”

Cecilia put together the parade, using her many contacts to acquire two 1947, antique Lincoln Continental convertibles, beautiful examples of those great classic cars, which just happened to be owned by one of her ultra-rich collector friends. Jose Luis and David sat on the back part of the convertibles where the tops folded down, with a beautiful girl on each side, framing the handsome 64

The Taurus Caper novilleros in a compelling scene of macho bullfighters and sexy young girls, a fantasy dream of men and women throughout Mexico. A flatbed truck followed along, blaring red hot salsa music that brought large crowds up to the sidewalks, out of offices and restaurants to see what kind of craziness was causing so much commotion. Pretty girls in scantily clad outfits walked along with the procession passing out flyers and selling tickets. Firulais the clown had volunteered to sit on the back of the truck, blowing up balloons to make funny animals, which he threw to the kids. By the time the parade reached the Plaza de los Mariachis, it had attracted a large following which joined the crowd in the Plaza, creating an instant party of happy and boisterous people. Freddie hired four Mariachi groups to play La Macarena, while David and Jose Luis waved to the crowd and gave autographs to fans. The ticket sellers worked the festive crowd, selling hundreds of tickets while passing out flyers and posters. The film crew, along with Firulais and Cecilia, sat at a large table savoring the obvious success of the parade while tossing congratulatory tequila shots. “Your idea for the parade was certainly an inspiration,” Freddie looked admiringly at Cecilia. “You have guaranteed a sellout for our little corrida and you’ve ingratiated yourself to me and 65

Bret Malory the crew.” “Thank you, my darling.” She leaned in and gave him a wet kiss. “I’m excited about being part of this production and I know we will make a dynamite film.” “From what I’ve read of your storyboard outline and narration, I am certain we’ll knock them out of their seats,” agreed Dennis. “I just followed what you had established in your creative camera angles and stunning cinematography of the rushes,” Cecilia replied. “And of course, Freddie’s inspired direction.” “Is this a mutual admiration society or are we here to sell tickets?” laughed Gary. “Both,” said Freddie. “Look at the way those delightful girls are working the crowd. And our clown friend is sure contributing with his funky balloon animals.” “He wants us to make that film about his life,” said Dennis. “I know about his craziness and what he did with his fortune,” said Cecilia. “It would make a marvelous film.” “When we finish this one,” said Freddie, “I’ll hire you to do a treatment.” “I have to prove myself worthy,” said Cecilia. “I want us to make the best film possible and I want this whole crew to have confidence in my writing and my ideas.” 66

The Taurus Caper “You certainly proved yourself worthy with this parade idea,” said Freddie. “And, as Dennis said, your storyboard and sample narration are outstanding.” “Then let’s get on with it,” said Dennis, picking up the steady cam. “Gary, take the other camera over there and see if you can get some good shots of Firulais. I’ll follow the girls and the novilleros.” By mid-afternoon the crew wrapped up the filming and headed for the Cazadores, a great restaurant that served the best seafood and steaks in all of Guadalajara. Freddie had invited Firulais, the novilleros, and several of the girls to accompany the film crew, sort a small celebration of what he considered a breakthrough event in the development of the documentary. The restaurant staff had prepared a private room with a huge table to seat the entire group of 22 people. Jose Luis, David and several of the girls had never been to such an opulent restaurant and stared at the surroundings in unabashed wonder. “This is where we will always eat lunch when we are famous bullfighters,” said David as the waiters poured champagne. “If you get to be famous toreros,” said Cecilia, “you will have your pick of wonderful restaurants. Until then, you will probably have more lunches at taco stands.” “I don’t mind taco stands,” said Jose Luis. “You 67

Bret Malory rub elbows with the people who understand what we want to do.” “Oh my Gd!” exclaimed Dennis. “A bullfighter philosopher, just what we need.” “All good bullfighters are introspective and a bit philosophical,” said Cecilia. “Also very fatalistic.” “Either that or extremely stupid,” said Gary. “Actually, most are quite intelligent,” said Cecilia. “But the young and the brave feel they are invincible, that they are immortal, that they can never be harmed, so they go out there to face the bulls with a shield around them. As we know, that shield is a fantasy because most novilleros get gored and end up on the trash heap of broken dreams.” “Don’t get morose on us,” warned Freddie. “I want our boys to feel like they are invincible.” “You don’t have to worry about us,” said David. “We can handle any bull at any time.” “Yeah, like up at the bull ranch,” said Dennis without malice. “That was a setup and you know it,” exclaimed David. “Hey!” shouted Freddie, getting fed up with all of the negative talk. “We are here to celebrate. My God! We sold enough tickets today to pay for the whole novillada.” He held up his glass in a salute. “Quoting Jimmy Buffet, ‘Let’s get drunk and 68

The Taurus Caper screw.’” Cecilia squeezed his leg and slid her hand up to his crotch. “Right here?” she whispered hotly into his ear. “Uh, well...” Freddie looked around to see if anyone noticed the crotch groping. “What does ‘screw’ mean?” asked one of the pretty girls who had a limited command of the English language. Dennis, who had dumped down about three tequila shooters and had been lusting after the darling girl, looked at her. “It is a slang expression that means, humping, banging, boffing, boinking, porking, getting it on, burying the one eyed worm, stuffing the hot box, sliding in the slippery tunnel, jam up and jelly tight.” The beautiful girl’s eyes opened wide in amazement. “Oh,” she said breathlessly. “It’s just like fucking.”

Freddie decided that the entire crew, including Jose Luis and David, would go to Mexico City to film at the Plaza Monumental, the largest bullring in the world, for a much anticipated bullfight between the famous Spanish bullfighter, Julian Lopez “El Juli”, and the reining king of the bullring in Mexico, Rafael Ortega. Freddie had to 69

Bret Malory contact the managers and agents of both bullfighters to get the permission to film and sign the releases. The Spaniard’s agent wanted money up-front but Freddie convinced him the publicity from a world-wide release of a film by an award winning filmmaker would make the Spaniard famous everywhere. The Mexican’s agent immediately recognized the publicity value of being in the film and agreed to the filming with the stipulation that they could review the final version to see if it showed their bullfighter in a positive way. Besides, Freddie knew both bullfighters were receiving extra compensation because the fight would be televised for transmission back to Spain. Freddie had rented a large van with driver that would accommodate the crew. After checking into the luxurious Melia Hotel in downtown Mexico City, Cecilia suggested that they should all go out to the world famous restaurant, ‘Rincon Aficionado’, because it would be a great place to capture the bullfighting ambiance for the film. This dining complex, complete with its own bullring, is an attraction in itself. At the south end of town near the beginning of the highway to Cuernavaca, it was founded more than 50 years ago by the Arroyo family and is now run by jovial Jesus "Chucho" Arroyo. His loyal following includes celebrities, dignitaries, and bullfighters, 70

The Taurus Caper along with local families, groups, and tourists; more than 2,600 people can dine simultaneously in a labyrinth of eleven picturesque dining areas. Typical Mexican specialties — chicken mole, a dozen types of tacos, and much more — are prepared in open kitchens. Mariachi music and the full gamut of Mexican drinks compliment the fine food. Chucho himself led the group to a ringside table next to the small bullring. “It is an honor to welcome such a famous film crew to my humble restaurant,” Chucho smiled effusively. “We are presenting a few exhibition bullfights this afternoon, but they are small bulls and we do not kill them.” Chucho looked at David and Jose Luis. “Maybe your novilleros would like to act as peones and make a few passes with the bulls.” “We’d love to do that,” said David enthusiastically. “Then it’s settled,” said Chucho. “I’ll send someone to bring you down to the ring after the second fight.” “Get the camera ready, Dennis,” said Freddie. “This might be interesting.” El Chucho sent over a two liter bottle of Herradura Reposado tequila along with huge platters of carne asada, carnitas, and roasted chicken, accompanied by all of the trimmings. The happy group, especially David and Jose Luis, ate 71

Bret Malory voraciously while offering several toasts of the fine tequila. Cecilia, who had been working on the narration as well as educating Freddie and the crew in the drama of the bullfight, brought along copious notes on the two bullfighters who would fight in the Plaza Monumental on Sunday, so she could brief the entire crew on what to watch and how they might want to film the action. Cecilia turned to Freddie, “I’ll tell you something, Freddie. The Spaniard “El Juli”, sells out more bullrings in Spain and Latin America than any other bullfighter. He’s very charismatic, artistic, incredibly brave and has a broad appeal among the masses but also pleases the aficionados.” Cecilia paused and took a sip of her tequila. “His accomplishments last year were amazing. He fought in 134 corridas in Europe but missed 23 engagements due to serious injuries.” “This guy, “El Juli” sounds bigger than life.” “In some fights, he is. Because of his successes the bullrings were always sold out. Then this winter “Juli” continued to perform in Latin America cutting ears, filling the stands everywhere he fought, except here in Mexico City last year, when they roundly booed him, or as in the case of Mexico, whistled him mercilessly, since that is what we do instead of boo.” 72

The Taurus Caper “What happened?” asked Freddie, hoping the Mexican crowd would give him some of the same interesting action when he filmed the fight on Sunday. “First of all, the Mexican crowd hates the Spaniards so the Spanish bullfighters have to be twice as good as the Mexicans just to get a few ole’s,” said Cecilia. “It’s a cultural thing. “ “I think our Mexican bullfighter, Rafael Ortega, is better than that puto Spaniard,” said Jose Luis disdainfully. “I saw him fight at the Monumental last February and he cut two ears and a tail from one bull. The fans carried him out of the ring on their shoulders in triumph.” “I saw him in Tijuana,” added David. “He was spectacular and cut two ears and a tail and the bull got a slow drag around the ring.” “He is very good,” said Cecilia, “and very brave. It should be a great battle between the two stars of Mexico and Spain. But as I said before, what remains to be seen is their artistry. It doesn’t matter how brave or technically skilled they are, without artistry the corrida remains little more than a circus act.” “If we can capture all of that on film, then that’s all we can ask for our little production,” added Dennis. A tall, slender man in a bullfighter’s accoutrements walked up to the table. “Don 73

Bret Malory Chucho sent me to take the novilleros down to the dressing area,” he said in Spanish. “It looks like you guys are up,” said Freddie with a wry smile. “Just don’t get your dicks torn off.” “You don’t have to worry about us, Freddie,” said David. “We’ll give these people a demonstration of real artistry.” As David and Jose Luis left the table, Dennis turned to Freddie. “Those crazy bastards are beyond belief. I just hope the bulls are small and harmless.” “Freddie,” said Cecilia, “while we wait for the boys to suit up and get ready, I want to show you an interesting part of this restaurant.” She stood up and reached out for his hand. “Come on, I think you will find it very interesting.” Cecilia led Freddie down a long corridor, past bullfight posters, bulls’ heads and horns, and other memorabilia, until they arrived at a large, carved oak door. She extracted a key from her purse and opened the heavy door. Freddie peeked in and saw a strange room that looked like the interior of a Montana whore house, with subdued lights, purple tapestries, 19th century sofas and a thick rug on the floor. Oil paintings of exotic and voluptuous ladies hung on the walls, all of them nude and posed in an open invitation to make love. 74

The Taurus Caper “What the hell is this?” asked Freddie in wonder. “It is a private room for Don Chucho’s special guests,” she said mysteriously. “Come on in and enjoy.” Freddie followed Cecilia into the sensuous room with anticipation of an erotic adventure boiling up into his brain. The tequila and sumptuous food had stimulated all of his senses and he knew that there was just one area left to make it a perfect afternoon. Cecilia spun around in an impromptu pirouette, rushed into his arms and kissed him in a fierce, flaming sliding of lips and tongue. “What is this?” asked Freddie, startled by the sudden attack of passion. “I got so turned on by you out there that I just had to have your wonderful cock,” she said breathlessly, grinding against the quickly rising object of her lust. Cecilia pulled Freddie over to the sumptuous sofa, pushed him down on his back, then broke the embrace and quickly pulled down his cargo shorts. She stood up, stripped off her gaucho skirt and her thong panties, swung her leg over Freddie’s body then reached down and guided his thrusting cock into the hot confines of her fine pussy without saying a word. She started rocking back and forth on the impaled staff as a flush 75

Bret Malory ignited her lovely face. She dug her fingernails into Freddie’s chest and a mini-orgasm rocked her delightful body, followed by another stronger one which caused her to speed up the rocking motion as multiple orgasms shook her in ever increasing force. Cecilia’s eyes glazed over as one last massive explosion rocked her to her very being and she collapsed, gasping and twitching on his chest. Freddie, stunned and overwhelmed by the suddenness of the unexpected attack, clutched her tightly while she wound down to some semblance of cognizance about what had just happened. She looked down into his eyes and smiled weakly. “That was fine,” she said wondrously. “Did I scare you with my sluttiness?” “I love your sluttiness,” he said. “But I was so into your fun that I didn’t quite catch up.” Cecilia gave him a tight pussy hug then lifted her delightful derriere up and then down again in a slow, sensuous, sliding love-fuck that quickly brought him to the magic moment. Freddie felt the inexorable rush start and began a furious slamming into the target of his lust. He grabbed both cheeks of her fine ass and bounced her like twin soccer balls as he erupted and whipped like an over pressured fire hose. Cecilia, turned on by the ferocity of his orgasm, matched him with another one of her own. The two lovers finally 76

The Taurus Caper collapsed in a spent heap, giggling and gasping for air. Cecilia nibbled on his ear and whispered, “Are you ready for seconds?”

Cecilia and Freddie made it back to the table just as the bullfight with David and Jose Luis started. Dennis smiled knowingly at the disheveled appearance of the two naughty lovers “What, did you guys run into, a tornado?” he asked. “A little stronger than that,” said Freddie. “More like a category five hurricane.” Suddenly, a small band on the other side of the small bullring struck up a pasodoble, and out trooped two bullfighters along with David and Jose Luis for the paseillo - the parade of the matadors and their cuadrilla, their team. The procession was headed by two mounted officials in plumed hats and 17th-century costume, who led the pageant to the Presidential box to receive the symbolic key to the toril, the bull-pen. The ring cleared, then a lone trumpet split the silence, announcing the entrance of the first bull. A small bull charged out of the gate and into the bright sunlight. David stepped out from behind the protective wooden fence and unfurled a large 77

Bret Malory pink and yellow cape. The bull, momentarily dazzled, spun around and ran directly at David who twirled the cape in a classic Veronica pass at just the right moment. The bull roared passed as David spun in a pirouette, wrapping the cape around his body in a brilliant and artistic move. The crowd jumped to their feet with shouts of ‘Ole’. “My God!” exclaimed Freddie. “That was fantastic! Did you get that on film, Dennis?” “I sure as shit did!” shouted Dennis as he continued filming. David walked calmly back behind the burladero, the protective wooden fence, just as the bull charged after him and slammed into the fence with the sound of a thunderclap. Jose Luis stepped out and used his cape to lure the bull to the center of the ring. He executed a couple of adequate passes but nothing like the exhibition David had put on. The scheduled bullfighters took turns caping the bull, then the tired animal was led out of the ring in preparation for the next exhibition. By the end of the exhibition, David had performed brilliantly and Jose Luis, even though he lacked the flair, certainly looked good in his suit of lights. The two novilleros returned to the table, exhilarated by the experience and excited about having faced live bulls, even if they were 78

The Taurus Caper small and relatively harmless. “God that was fun!” exclaimed David. “You guys just might make it as bullfighters,” said Cecilia, giving each of them an embrace. Freddie poured everybody a big shot of the exquisite tequila. “My young novilleros,” he said. “I raise my glass to both of you for your courage and artistry in the face of extreme danger.” “The danger was not all that extreme,” said David with a self-deprecating smile. “I just hope the bulls you bought for our fight are huge and crazy.” “Well,” said Dennis, “you two are certainly huge in the cock department and you are certifiably crazy so I guess we got ourselves some bullfighters.” “You will be proud of us when we have our corrida,” said David confidently. “We will make your film sparkle with excitement.” “Sparkle with excitement?” exclaimed Dennis. “That sounds more like a gay dancer than a bullfighter.” “A lot of bullfighters are gay,” said Cecilia. “I know these guys aren’t gay,” said Freddie. “I’ve seen them in action.” “What I meant was that a lot bullfighters swing both ways. In their early days they have to perform certain acts just to stay alive, but if they become famous they are definitely heterosexual.” 79

Bret Malory “Is that true?” Dennis asked David. “I don’t judge the other guys,” he replied. “But yes, that’s part of the deal for some of them. I have always been lucky enough to avoid the jotos and just make it with the girls.” Don Chucho rushed up to the table in great good spirits. “Your novilleros were wonderful!” he exclaimed. “Come back any time and grace us with your presence.” “Thank you so much for your hospitality,” said Freddie. “I think we took some great footage that will promote your establishment all over the world.” “What more could a humble restaurateur ask?” said Don Chucho. Four toasts of the superb tequila later, the film crew finally bid their goodbyes and made it out to the van. “A fine afternoon,” said Freddie. “It certainly was,” said Cecilia with a demure smile.

On the following Sunday, the whole crew set up the equipment on a platform in the shady side of the Plaza Monumental, as sixty thousand rabid fans filled the arena, anticipating the pomp and spectacle they hoped the two famous bullfighters would provide. Freddie and Dennis discussed the 80

The Taurus Caper filming plan while Gary finished the set-ups. Cecilia instructed each camera operator on what to look for as the drama unfolded. Finally Freddie, Cecilia, David and Jose Luis took their seats and awaited the excitement they knew would come. Suddenly the band struck up a pasodoble, the gates to the bullring opened and two mounted officials in plumed hats and 17th-century costume, led the pageant to the Presidential box to receive the symbolic key to the toril where the fighting bulls awaited their fate. The matadors followed on foot, in order of seniority, ranked according to the date of graduation as full matadors: the most senior, Rafael Ortega the Mexican, stood to the left, and El Juli the Spaniard, to the right. Behind this impressive scene, the cuadrilla of each matador emerged from the shadows, with the peones on foot and the picadors on horseback, all resplendent in sequins and silver. The entire entourage made one circle around the ring then retired behind the burladero. Rafael Ortega stepped out from behind the thick wooden barrier and unfurled a large pink and yellow cape. He stood proud and majestic, swirling the cape in precise, imaginary passes. An expectant silence fell over the sixty thousand aficionados. A lone trumpet sounded, clear and precise, heralding the beginning of the first act and also announcing the entrance of the first bull. 81

Bret Malory Out of the dark tunnel charged 1200 pounds of prime beef, preceded by ominous pincer-shaped, pointed horns. The bull, momentarily dazzled by the bright sunlight spun around, then quickly recovered. One of the peones ran towards the bull, waved a cape then sprinted back behind the barrier. The bull turned angrily, trying to spot some target to vent its wrath. Ortega walked calmly up to the wild beast, dropped the cape and flicked the lower folds, catching the sunlight in the bright colors. The bull lowered its head and charged, accelerating up to full speed in three steps, then blasted past Ortega as the bullfighter wrapped the cape around his body in a spinning pirouette. The crowd leaped to its feet as an explosion of Ole’s erupted down over the brave matador. “Now that was good shit!” exclaimed Freddie. “Ortega is a crowd pleaser,” said Cecilia. “I could do that,” added David with great conviction, “I certainly hope so,” said Freddie, with very little conviction The picadors entered to resounding boos from the crowd because they knew the purpose of the long lances held by the men on horseback was to weaken the bull’s tossing muscle, allowing the matador to work closer to the horns without the certain goring that would occur if the bull were 82

The Taurus Caper completely healthy. After precisely placing six banderillas, Ortega worked the bull with brilliant passes, finally leaving it standing alone in the center of the ring. The fanfare sounded again to herald the beginning of the third and final act. Everything that had preceded - the pomp, the spectacle - had been in preparation for this, the faena, the partnership of man and beast that would culminate in the slaying of the bull and the eating of his flesh. Ortega dedicated his first bull to the President, according to custom. The cape was replaced by the small red muleta, and the duet begins with a series of long, deep passes, in which the matador brought the bull around him, ever closer, turning him, placing him ready for the next pass - but slowly, without suffocating the bull, creating one continuous, fluid line of movement. With each pass, the huge crowd shouted olé, and the band again struck up a pasodoble. It is incongruous, this jaunty two-step, for a dance of death. It is innocent and joyful, and spurred Ortega to ever greater risks.. He inched closer and closer to the bull, planted his leg before its muzzle, transfixing him, not ceding an inch of ground. Low natural passes on the left side, the muleta unsupported by the sword, chest pass to the right, where the bull's head is raised, round and round went the bull in a 83

Bret Malory dance both erotic and ritual, the thrust of the matador's hips leaving little doubt what this was all about. Finally, the matador ended the faena with a pase del desprecio, in which he cited the bull while looking away, the ultimate sign of domination. Now was the time for the "moment of truth". Ortega walked proudly over to the presidential box and requested permission to proceed with the kill. He walked slowly back toward the bull, dropped one edge of the muleta and profiled the bull, sighting down along his sword of Toledo steel. The killing sword is slightly curved, and must be plunged into a specific point between the shoulder blades. For this, the bull must be standing square, his feet apart. The matador must kill by leaning up and over the horns of the bull no sneaking round the side. The bull's head must be kept low, his eyes focused on the muleta. It is the most dangerous moment of the corrida. If the bull raised his horns Ortega would be gored. The matador rose on tiptoe and ran toward the bull, volapié, and thrust in the sword. It went into the hilt and the bull fell, dying, to its knees. The audience rose to its feet, and the plaza de toros was filled with 60,000 white handkerchiefs waved in appreciation, a demand that the matador be awarded an ear of the bull. The animal was applauded, and was dragged from the ring by 84

The Taurus Caper oxen, while Ortega began his lap of honor, clutching his trophy, to a chant of TO-RE-RO. Even the traditionally hypercritical occupants of Tendido 8 joined the ovation. Flowers, hats, and long-fringed silk shawls cascaded down upon the matador. Ortega picked them up, threw them back to their owners as he walked triumphantly around the ring. A very pretty girl threw her shawl and it caught him on the shoulder. Ortega looked up at her then wiped the sweat off of his brow on the shawl, then tossed it back to her along with a brilliant smile. The rest of the day was anticlimactic after that brilliant performance. The Spaniard tried valiantly but couldn’t measure up to the Mexican’s performance. At the end of the corrida, the enthusiastic fans rushed out into the ring and carried their countryman in triumph out of the ring, chanting TO-RE-RO in loud and raucous shouts. Finally, the film crew packed up and, exhausted but exhilarated , returned to the hotel.

Back in Guadalajara, Freddie and Cecilia arranged to meet the pompous promoter in the bar at the Camino Real Hotel to discuss the final preparations for the bullfight that would star David and Jose Luis. When the promoter showed 85

Bret Malory up at the entrance to the bar he was accompanied by several people, including a sinister looking man in an expensive suit, three burly bodyguard types and a beautifully exotic woman. “I think that promoter brought along some members of the Cartel,” said Cecilia. “Oh, no, not again,” said Freddie. “What do you mean by that?” “When we were here two years ago filming the documentary about the Maya Indians, we had some very dangerous moments with the Cartel. If it hadn’t been for Gary and his great training in special operations, we would have died in the jungle.” The strange group arrived at the table and, up close, the tall man in the dark suit looked even more sinister. The three bodyguards showed bulges under their suit coats which looked more like steel than muscles. The woman exuded sex and clung to the tall man, pressing her ample breasts against his arm. “Sr. Bonner and Senorita Montes,” he said unctuously, “I would like you to meet a business associate, Carlos Montenegro.” The promoter ignored the rest of the group in his introduction. “What business are you in, Sr. Montenegro?” asked Cecilia with feigned innocence. The man’s dark eyes flashed in veiled anger while he stared intently at Cecilia. The promoter 86

The Taurus Caper jumped into the awkward silence. “Carlo is a businessman and he’s involved in many enterprises. He is here because he has seen your novilleros and he wants to represent them.” “Represent them?” asked Freddie. “How do you propose to represent them, Sr. Montini?” Carlos directed his intense stare to Freddie. “Sr. Bonner,” he began in a deep voice. “The bullfighting business is populated by people who would take advantage of young, charismatic men who want to be bullfighters. I would protect them from the sharks.” “And who would protect them from the protectors?” asked Cecilia pointedly. “With my group running their affairs, they will not need any other protection,” replied Carlo with disdain. “I have a contract with David and Jose Luis,” said Freddie. “At least until the film is finished.” “I will buy out that contract but I will let them finish the film,” said Carlos. “After that they belong to me.” “I think David and Jose Luis will have something to say about that,” said Freddie. “It will be an offer that would be foolish for them to turn down,” said Carlos. “Besides, they are untested, which makes this a huge gamble for me.” “Then why would you do it?” asked Cecilia. 87

Bret Malory “Let’s just say my, uh, ‘organization’, is interested in opening up different business opportunities,” replied Carlos. “I’ll have to discuss it with the boys,” said Freddie. Carlos directed his intense stare at Freddie. “Sr. Bonner. I would caution you not to interfere in this matter. We will represent those young men, one way or another,” he added ominously. Carlos stood up, turned and walked calmly out of the restaurant, followed by his bully boys and the woman, “What the hell was that all about?” asked Freddie. “You must be very careful, Sr. Bonner,” said the promoter, sweating profusely. “That man has powerful connections and could be extremely dangerous.” “He is part of the Mexican Mafioso,” said Cecilia with great conviction. “Part of the drug cartel.” “Don’t say things like that!” exclaimed the promoter. “You don’t know what those people can do.” “I am well acquainted with how those bastards operate,” said Freddie. “I’ve had a previous confrontation with the Yucatan arm of that group.” “If that’s true, I’m amazed you are still alive,” 88

The Taurus Caper said the promoter, looking around nervously. “Look, I would advise you to take their offer, finish your film and leave it at that.” “How can Carlos be so sure the boys will take his offer?” asked Freddie. “Oh, they will take his offer,” said the promoter with great conviction. “He will give the boys a large signing bonus and he will make it clear that they have no choice. So don’t interfere. Besides he will put a lot of money into our bullfight and make it a first class event.” “I’ll have to discuss it with David and Jose Luis and my crew,” said Freddie thoughtfully. “Carlos will probably visit the boys tomorrow,” said the promoter. “And he’ll bring his muscle. As I said, you should go along with the deal and don’t make waves. It will be better for all concerned.” “I think he’s right,” said Cecilia. “I’ve seen what those guys can do to anyone who stands in their way.” “I’ll talk to the boys this afternoon,” said Freddie. “I just hate to see them get involved with that mob.” “If you want to finish your film and preserve your health, I would advise you again not to interfere,” said the promoter as he got up from the table. “Don’t do anything rash,” the fat man warned over his shoulder as he waddled out of 89

Bret Malory the bar. Freddie called Dennis’ cell phone and told him to get David and Jose Luis and bring them, along with the rest of the crew, to the El Rincon restaurant for lunch. At the restaurant, Freddie explained the meeting with the promoter and Carlos. “I’ve heard about that Carlos guy,” said Jose Luis. “He’s trying to buy up the contracts of promising bullfighters. The word is he representing the Cartel to get into legitimate businesses and money is no object.” “Would you guys want them to have your contract?” asked Freddie. “I would sell my soul to the Devil if it made me a famous bullfighter,” said David. “Then you don’t mind signing up with them?” asked Freddie. “Well, we have to see their offer, but they could become very dangerous if we don’t,” said Jose Luis. “It still worries me,” said Freddie. “Look, Freddie,” said David. “We can take care of ourselves. After you finish this movie you’ll go back to LA but we still have to live here and try to make it in the bullfighting business. If we have to make a pact with the Devil, then so be it.” “You take care of your movie and we’ll take care of the Cartel,” said Jose Luis earnestly. 90

The Taurus Caper “Well then, gentlemen,” said Freddie. “Let’s drink, eat and be merry, for tomorrow we may die.” He held up his tequila in a toast. “I intend to make the best fucking movie ever on bullfighting and its cultural influences and if the Cartel gets in the way, I’m going to have my special ops guy Gary here eliminate them like he did in Cancun.” “What happened in Cancun?” asked Cecilia, suddenly interested in this aspect of Freddie’s life. “It’s a long story but suffice it to say Gary eliminated the guys who were trying to kill us.” He motioned toward Gary with his shot glass. “This guy is truly amazing, and I owe my life to him” “Just covering our backside,” said Gary laconically. “Listen to that!” exclaimed Freddie. “Here is what he did. Our Maya expert, Monique, got kidnapped at the Maya ruins of Tolum and Gary tracked them into the jungle, killed all three of the kidnappers, saved Monique without a scratch and got us out of there.” Everyone looked at Gary with renewed respect. “Just doin’ my job, boss.” “Then, when we got back to Santa Monica, the leader of that group ambushed us in my beach house and Gary, very calmly, shot the motherfucker right between the eyes.” “Holy shit!” exclaimed David. “And all we 91

Bret Malory have to do is face an angry bull.” “All I’m saying is that you don’t have to be afraid of those bastards,” said Freddie. “No, but we don’t have much to lose if we let them represent us,” said Jose Luis. “They throw money around and those guys are always surrounded by beautiful women. And, if we get in trouble, we can always count on Gary.” “I think I’m getting too old for that commando shit,” laughed Gary. “Let’s just do the film and not mess around with the drug lords. “Good idea,” said Freddie. “Just remember, our bullfight is this Sunday and we have to get some good film in the can for our little epic. It’s kind of make or break time.” “We’ll do our part,” said David confidently. “We’ll put on a show that will blow their socks off.” “Just do your best and keep yourselves healthy,” said Cecilia. “We don’t need your blood spilled to make this a great film.” “The only blood that’s going to be spilled will belong to the bulls,” said David. “I sure hope your talent is as huge as your balls,” said Dennis. Just then some of the darling groupie girls showed up and spotted the film group. Primavera rushed up and gave Dennis a kiss. “Do you guys always talk about the fun parts of boys?” she 92

The Taurus Caper asked coquettishly. “I was speaking metaphorically.” Dennis squeezed her fine ass. Two of the other girls, the same ones who had given the novilleros head at the bullring, plopped down on the laps of Jose Luis and David. “Where have you guys been?” asked Alicia. “We’ve been to a bull raising ranch and to Mexico City,” said David. “Filming good stuff for the documentary.” “When do we get to be in more scenes?” asked Primavera. “Soon, my lovely,” replied Dennis. “Maybe you can come over to our place and we can work out some dialogue.” “You know I can’t talk with my mouth full,” said Primavera, pursing her juicy lips in a perfect “O”. “I can work around that,” replied Dennis. “There are vocal expressions that can be communicated without forming words, things like humming. All you have to do is find the correct frequency to bring about instant understanding.” “I want to learn that technique,” said Primavera enthusiastically. “Let’s go now and you can teach me.” “A fine idea,” agreed Dennis. He turned to the rest of the group. “Let’s take this movable feast to our fabulous villa,” he shouted. 93

Bret Malory Everyone jumped up and cheered. “Time to party!” shouted Jose Luis.

The film crew van pulled through the security gate at the Villa that the film crew had rented on the outskirts of Guadalajara. Nine party animals burst out of the van in anticipation of a bacchanal of epic proportions. Freddie instructed the staff to bring lunch and drinks out to the gazebo by the pool. Dennis cranked up the Dolby surround system through the outdoor speakers with some pulsing salsa music. Just as the group got started on their first drink, the butler hurried out to the table. “Sr. Freddie. A Sr. Montenegro is here and insists on talking to you.” “It’s that Carlos Mafioso guy,” said Dennis as the uninvited group came around the edge of the house, led by Carlos and followed by his three bodyguards and his sexy girlfriend. Carlos walked aggressively up to Freddie and thrust out his chin. “Sr. Bonner. We need to get this contract settled now.” Freddie stared at him for a few seconds then took a sip of his drink. “I don’t remember inviting you or your goons to this party.” “I don’t need any invitation,” said Carlos. “I 94

The Taurus Caper have the contract here and I want you and the novilleros to sign it.” “Leave it on the table and I’ll have my lawyer study it,” said Freddie evenly. “Now, get the fuck out of here.” Carlos motioned to the biggest bodyguard and the huge man started toward Freddie. Gary jumped up, spun around like Jackie Chan and kicked the goon right in the knee cap with the heel of his cowboy boot. The leg bucked backwards with the sound of a dry tree limb breaking and the huge man tumbled to the ground, writhing in pain, his leg bent out at a grotesque angle. The second goon reached inside of his suit coat and pulled out a pistol but Gary lashed out with his boot again, catching the man’s arm right at the elbow. The arm buckled right at the joint as the pistol clattered noisily to the tile. The man screamed in pain and slumped to the ground as Gary pounced on the pistol, picked it up then spun and aimed it at the third bodyguard. “La pistola!” he shouted. “Take it out very carefully.” Everyone else was frozen in place, astounded at the swiftness and efficiency of Gary’s attack. The bodyguard reached inside of his coat but paused for a second, and Gary, not taking any chances kicked him right in the balls with the point of his boot. The bodyguard’s eyes popped out, his face 95

Bret Malory turned purple and he sank to his knees, clutching his crotch and wailing loudly. Gary extracted the pistol and tossed it to Dennis. “Keep an eye on these bastards while I search their boss.” “You will not touch me!” shouted Carlos, obviously shaken by the stunning exhibition of martial arts. Gary slapped Carlos hard on his face then reached into his coat and pulled out a small silver pistol. “Very fancy,” said Gary. “Fancy and deadly.” “You will pay for this with our life!” exclaimed Carlos, turning beet red. “Shut up, you fucking worm,” said Gary. He turned to the woman. “Give me your purse.” She reluctantly handed him her purse, Gary opened it and pulled out a snub nose .38 pistol. “All of these sorry bastards are packing,” he said with a cold smile. He turned to Carlos. “Now, get your wounded out of here.” Freddie walked up to the deflated Mafioso. “If you want to discuss the contract you will do it like a legitimate business man,” he said venomously. “And I don’t ever want to see you or your gorillas here again.” The servants helped get the three wounded men to their car while Freddie and the others watched. Carlos got behind the wheel of the black 96

The Taurus Caper town car, his face as dark as a moonless night. “You will die for this,” said Carlos through clenched teeth. “I’m going to report this to the police and get a restraining order against you,” said Freddie. Carlos laughed derisively. “The police and judges receive huge sums of money not to interfere in our business. You are a gringo and no one will help you.” Carlos jammed the accelerator down and peeled rubber as he rocketed out through the gate. “Holy shit!” exclaimed David. “Did you see the way Gary toppled those three goons?” “I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Cecilia. “Not even in the movies.” “We’ve seen it before,” said Freddie. He put his arm around Gary. “This guy is our secret weapon.” Primavera snuggled up to Dennis. “You guys are amazing,” she said breathlessly. “Take me up to your room, now.” “Continue the party,” said Dennis to the others. “I have a greater calling to follow.” Dennis and Primavera walked up the impressive marble stairway to the sumptuous room on the second floor. “I love this room,” said Primavera, pirouetting around like a ballerina. “Remember the last time we were here?” she asked, moving up against him. She placed her 97

Bret Malory arms around his shoulders and gave him a slow, sensuous sliding kiss, while she pressed her delightful female goodies against his body. “Weren’t we discussing how to communicate through humming if my mouth is full?” Primavera reached down and slowly started to stroke his engorged cock. “Uh, I think it had to do with frequencies instead of words,” said Dennis, as the darling girl continued to sensuously stroke his rock hard male goodie. Primavera unzipped his cargos shorts and slid them down to the floor, allowing his cock to leap out like a spring loaded pogo stick. She knelt down and slid her full red lips slowly over the pulsing head. She popped it out of her mouth and looked up into his glazed eyes. “I think I’ll start with a base note, maybe two octaves below middle “C”.” She engulfed the ready rod into her hot mouth and began a deep humming sound that instantly struck a resonant chord in Dennis as it rose from his balls to his brain, setting off alarms of an impending eruption. Primavera cupped his balls in her dainty hand as she began a juicy sliding in and out on his cock with her voracious mouth while she continued the humming. She paused with her lips around the corona and twirled her tongue vigorously around the sensitive head, then 98

The Taurus Caper began a combination of deep throat and quick sucks around the tip of the bulging member. Primavera slid her mouth off the end with a load pop, then engulfed his balls into the space just vacated by his cock. The humming increased in intensity while she stroked the slippery rod with her beautiful hand. Dennis stared down at the exciting connection and knew he couldn’t last much longer. Dennis grabbed the sides of her beautiful face as he felt the juices start to rise, pulled her up from his balls and thrust his cock into the red-hot confines of her eager mouth just as the first shot of cum spurted unchecked out of his very depths. The delightful girl increased the sucking and humming like a woman possessed, all the while gently squeezing his balls and rubbing her middle finger over the sensitive part between his ass and his scrotum. “Ohhh!” exclaimed Dennis as spurt after spurt disappeared down her needy throat. Finally, after the last drop of his essence had been drained, she slowly slid her mouth off his bright red cock and looked up into his eyes. “Did you get the message?” she asked with a brilliant smile. “Loud and clear,” Dennis gasped as he twitched in post-orgasmic nerve overload. “Absolutely incredible hummer,” he stammered. 99

Bret Malory “The best ever.” “I love my lover to be grateful,” she said, standing up and giving him a slippery kiss. “And, I think I enjoyed it as much as you did.” Dennis hugged her tightly. “You are not only one of the most beautiful women I have ever met in my life, you are also the most sensuous. A great combination” Primavera reached down and rubbed his sensitive cock. “Do you think we can get this wonderful thing back in sexual working order?” she asked. “I feel an intense urge to feel a hard cock in my pussy.” Those erotic words produced the desired effect as the object of her interest suddenly showed signs of rising to the occasion. “I think it’s a definite possibility,” said Dennis. “What would really turn me on would be to lick your wonderful pussy.” Dennis, needing no more inspiration, pushed her back on the bed and peeled off her shorts. He spread her legs wide open, gazed at her lovely woman parts, then plunged his tongue between the full lips, right to the hilt, his face up tight against her pubis as his tongue whirled like a butterfly’s wings around her eager clit. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed. “Get that cock in me right now or I’m off to rocket land.” The stimulation of tasting her exotic essence had the desired effect on Dennis, so he stood up 100

The Taurus Caper and followed her instructions to the letter. Primavera bucked up against him as his hard cock plunged deep, and she started thrusting and swirling her ass like a manic bread mixing machine. She dug her fingernails into the cheeks of his ass as an intense orgasm ripped through her delightful body. “Now!!!” she screamed, pulling his head down and kissing him deeply. “My God!” exclaimed Dennis. “Here I come too.” Finally, tingling and sweating, the two lovers collapsed upon the bed, spent and exhilarated, amazed by the intensity of the sex. “I think we communicated,” said Primavera, giving his cock a sweet little pussy hug.

In the gazebo by the pool, Freddie, Gary and Cecilia held a meeting with the novilleros. “That Carlos guy could be very dangerous,” said Cecilia. “I just wonder who he reports to. Most of the business deals the Cartel tries to get into, other than drugs, are conducted in a businesslike manner. I think this guy is a loose cannon.” “So what can we do?” asked David. “Other than sign their deal and go along with them.” “If they come back here I won’t be so easy on 101

Bret Malory them,” said Gary. “We’ll proceed with our bullfight on Sunday and see what happens,” said Freddie. “I don’t think they’ll try anything in a public place.” “I’m just glad those goons left their artillery behind,” laughed Gary. “Those Beretta automatic pistols could come in very handy.” “I sure hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Cecilia. “If he does try anything else, he’s going to have to hire some more muscle,” said Freddie. “I don’t think his goons are going to be ready for anything very soon.” “Money talks with that crowd,” said Cecilia. “And money can recruit any number of thugs for their purposes.” “So you think Carlos will be back?” asked Gary. “I’m looking forward to that.” “I don’t think he’ll try that again,” answered Cecilia. “I would be more worried about David and Jose Luis when they practice at the bullring or where they live.” “Why do you think that?” asked Freddie. “Because the Cartel is famous for kidnappings and extortion.” “If that’s the case, I’ll have the boys stay here until after the fight on Sunday,” said Freddie. “We have plenty of room and I’d feel better with them here.” 102

The Taurus Caper “What about when they go to the bullring tomorrow?” asked Cecilia. “We’ll all be there,” said Freddie. “And I’ll take a couple of the toys those goons left behind," added Gary. “just in case,” Manuel, the butler hurried into the room and handed Freddie a note. “What’s this?” Freddie asked, opening the note. “Sr. Mariano Mariscal is here and wishes to speak with you,” said Manuel. Freddie opened the note and read aloud. “Sr. Bonner. Please forgive me for coming to your house uninvited but I must speak to you about one of my employees, Carlos Montenegro.” “It’s Carlo’s boss,” said Cecilia. “He must be the mero chingon.” “What’s a mero chingon?” asked Freddie. “I think the expression in English is, ‘the head motherfucker’.” “Show the gentlemen in,” said Freddie. “Let’s see what he wants.” Manuel led in a short, distinguished gray haired man attired in an impeccable black pinstripe suit. The man displayed an imposing manner, completely in control of himself. Freddie stuck out his hand in greeting. “Sr. Mariscal,” he said. “Welcome to my home.” Mariscal warmly shook Freddie’s hand. “I am honored that you received me after the 103

Bret Malory unpleasantness with Carlos.” Freddie introduced the others, motioned for Mariscal to sit down and then turned his full attention to the Cartel boss. “That Carlos is a very unpleasant man.” “He is my wife’s cousin,” said Mariano, as if that explained it all. “He is wild and impulsive and is trying to make an impression. But we won’t tolerate that type of behavior in these kinds of business dealings.” “I’m afraid my man Gary messed his goons up a bit,” said Freddie. “He is always surrounded by oafish thugs,” said Mariscal in disgust. “They got what they deserved. But I want to assure you, Sr. Bonner, there will be no more trouble from Carlos. If your novilleros and you want to sign a deal with us, I will handle it.” “We appreciate that, Sr. Mariscal,” said Freddie. “Please, call me Mariano,” he stood up, signaling that the meeting was over. “And you call me Freddie. Why don’t you come down to the bullring tomorrow morning and watch the boys work out. We can go over the contract and see what happens.” “Thank you, Freddie, and I’m sure we can work out a deal.” “Thank you for clearing this up, Mariano. We were getting very concerned.” 104

The Taurus Caper “Please proceed with your plans and I will see you in the morning.” Mariano shook hands and left. “I’ll be damned!” exclaimed Cecilia. “A Cartel boss with some sense of propriety.” “You think we’re safe now from that Carlos guy?” asked Gary. “If anyone can keep Carlos in check, it is Mariano,” said Cecilia. “If the Mexican Cartel were the Italian equivalent, Mariano would be the Capo.” “We’ll go down to the ring tomorrow and sign his deal and get this all behind us,” said Freddie. “I don’t want any more conflict on this film.” “You’re right,” said Cecilia. “We have the makings of a terrific documentary. Let’s concentrate on that.” “We still have the bullfight on Sunday,” said Dennis. “That’s the one event we can’t control and it’s crucial to the drama of the film.” “Jose Luis and I will provide all the drama you need,” said David. “Getting gored is not the drama I’m looking for,” said Dennis. “Along with your unquestionable courage, we need some artistry.” “We are artists in the ring just like you are an artist in film,” said Jose Luis. “Of course your cameras aren’t out to kill you.” “Touché,” said Dennis. “What I’m trying to say 105

Bret Malory is we don’t want this film to end with you guys impaled on the horns of a bull. Just do your best and don’t get crazy.” “Just being in this business is an act of insanity,” said Cecilia. “I guess that’s what makes it so compelling to some people.” “I think I must have been insane to start this movie,” laughed Freddie. “Being in the movie business certifies you as insane by definition,” said Dennis. “It sounds like we’re all nutcases,” said Gary. “Of course, I’ve always known I’m slightly crazy.” “Remember what Zorba the Greek said?” asked Cecilia. “Everyone needs a little bit of madness. It comes with the territory.” “Then let’s get this asylum on the road,” said Freddie. “Everyone be ready in the morning. We have a film to finish.”

The next morning at the practice ring. Freddie watched the novilleros go through their conditioning exercises while he awaited the arrival of Mariano Mariscal. Suddenly, out of the gate where the bulls usually entered, came Carlos, walking tall like a bullfighter, followed by four goons packing assault rifles. “Holy shit!” exclaimed Dennis. “Here comes 106

The Taurus Caper trouble.” Carlos walked to the center of the ring as all of the bullfighters and film crew backed slowly away then ducked behind the wooden barriers. “Sr. Bonner,” said Carlos in a loud voice. “Come down here. We need to talk.” “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” shouted Freddie. “If you are not down here in thirty seconds, my men will start shooting,” said Carlos in an ominous voice. Just then, a small, pineapple-shaped object sailed out into the ring. It plopped to the ground and rolled toward Carlos and his men. Someone behind the far barrier shouted, “Duck!”, just before a deafening explosion rocked the bullring and shrapnel thudded into the wooden barriers. Blood and body parts sprayed out into the sunlight as the five men tumbled to the ground, dead before they hit the sand. All of the film crew and the bullfighters had instinctively ducked behind the thick wooden barriers when they realized that the object was a hand grenade. As the dust settled, Freddie peeked out and saw the carnage. “Good god!” he exclaimed, shaken badly from the intensity of the explosion. “Where the fuck did that come from?” Gary stood up on the far side of the ring. “I 107

Bret Malory think it slipped out of my hand,” he said. “Jesus Christ, Gary,” shouted Freddie. “You killed them all. We could have been killed too.” “They were going to kill you,” Gary shouted back. “It was sort of a pre-emptive strike.” Freddie rushed out into the ring just as several people, including two policemen, came in from the street entrance, attracted by the load explosion. One cop, who knew the film crew and who had watched some of the filming, took in the scene and pulled out his cell phone. “Nececitamos alluda en el Monumental,” he shouted. “Pronto!” He rang off and turned to Freddie. “What happened here, Sr. Bonner?” “I don’t know,” said Freddie. “We were filming the novilleros when these five men came in. As you can see they all had assault rifles.” “Who killed them?” “I have no idea,” said Freddie innocently. “When they came into the ring we ducked behind the wooden barriers and then there was a loud explosion.” “It looks like a hand grenade to me,” said the officer. “Do you know who threw it?” “No clue. It looks like a gang war maybe.” “That guy in the fancy suit was Carlos Montenegro,” the officer peered down at the mangled body. “A very bad man but he had powerful connections. We certainly will not 108

The Taurus Caper mourn him.” “Can my crew and I leave,” asked Freddie. “We’re pretty shaken up.” The police officer pulled out a notebook. “Put all of your names and contact phone numbers here. I suppose whoever threw the grenade is long gone, but we will be in contact with you.” Freddie rounded up the crew along with David and Jose Luis and they all headed for the El Rincon to calm their nerves on some good cactus juice. They grabbed a table in the corner of the bar and ordered a bottle of Herradura. “Gary, you are one bad motherfucker,” said Dennis. “I thought we were all going to be killed twice,” said Cecilia, still visibly shaken. “Once when Carlos and his men came in and again when Gary tossed the grenade.” “I didn’t toss any grenade,” said Gary indignantly. “It slipped out of my hand.” “Where in the hell did you get a grenade, you crazy commando?” asked Dennis. “Remember that little .38 pistol I took from Carlos’ squeeze? I traded it for two grenades.” ”Where in the hell do you go to make such trades?” asked Freddie incredulously. “I have my connections,” said Gary mysteriously. “You never know when you might need some firepower.” 109

Bret Malory “Well, you certainly saved our ass,” said Dennis. “Again.” “Just doin’ my job,” said Gary with a whimsical smile. “Don’t look now,” said Freddie, “but Mariano just came in and he’s looking at me.” Freddie waved for Mariano to come over. “You’ve had a busy morning,” said Mariano as he shook Freddie’s hand. “I was heading for the bullring when I got the news about Carlos.” “He showed up with four of his goons and they were all packing assault rifles,” said Freddie. “I warned him about doing anything like that,” said Mariano disgustedly. “Whoever was responsible for that little massacre back there did me a favor.” “We were innocent bystanders who almost got killed,” said Cecilia. Mariano smiled thinly. “Bystanders, I’m sure, but innocent I doubt.” He waved his hand. “But that doesn’t matter now. What matters is to get these two lads in the fold so they can be protected and have a prosperous career in bullfighting.” He pulled a legal envelope out of his jacked and placed it on the table. “When you get time, please go over this and let me know if it is satisfactory. Now I will leave you alone to enjoy your drinks.” Mariano nodded his full head of gray hair, turned and walked out of 110

The Taurus Caper the bar. “I’ll be damned,” said Freddie. “That guy has class.” “Let me see that contract,” said David. “You can’t read Spanish,” said Jose Luis. “Let me read it to you.” Freddie handed the contract to Jose Luis. “It says we get a signing bonus of five hundred dollars and a weekly salary of 75 dollars a week. I wonder why everything is in dollars.” “Because the Cartel gets its money in dollars and they don’t go through banks. And they pay in cash,” said Cecilia. “But how long do you have to agree to that salary?” asked Cecilia. “Until we complete our alternativa,” said Jose Luis, “or two years, whichever comes first. If we don’t become full fledged bullfighters in two years the contract is null and void. “Seventy five dollars a week isn’t much,” said Dennis. “But they pay all of our expenses,” said Jose Luis. “And we get bonuses if we cut ears.” “And it’s a hell of a lot more than we’ve ever made in our lives,” added David. “In fact, I’ve never even had a hundred dollars at one time.” “What does Freddie get?” asked Dennis. “After all he has the rights to you guys now.” “Let’s see,” said Jose Luis, reading further into the contract. “Freddie gets twenty thousand 111

Bret Malory dollars!” “That will keep us in tequila for awhile,” said Dennis. “What does it say about what happens if you become bullfighters?” asked Freddie. “We will each negotiate separately for a new contract.” “Well that seems fair enough,” said Freddie. “I’ll accept the twenty grand if you guys want to do it.” David looked at Jose Luis and they both nodded. “Let’s do it,” said David. “Can you believe it? We are real contracted bullfighters.” “With that group, if you don’t be careful, you could have a contract put out on you, if you know what I mean,” said Dennis. “For the bullfight on Sunday, I want you guys rested and ready to go,” said Freddie. “I’m going to rent you a suite in the Camino Real on Saturday and you can dress at the hotel in your suit of lights on Sunday morning. Then we’ll go to the bullring in a limo.” “Just like the big time,” said David. “And we owe it all to you, Freddie.” David grabbed Freddie by the head and planted a big kiss on his mouth. “What the fuck was that?” Freddie exclaimed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Just a kiss in gratitude,” said David, as the others broke into raucous laughter. 112

The Taurus Caper “Save it for the girls,” said Freddie. “I’m your manager, not your lover.” “Okay, manager,” said Jose Luis. “What do we do now?” “We’ll go back to the villa and relax. Cecilia, Dennis and I will attempt to do some editing. On Saturday morning we’ll take you to the Camino Real and then on Sunday morning we’ll come in and film you while you get dressed and then we’ll all go to the bullring for the big event.” “I’ll be too excited to sleep,” said David. “Just be ready on Sunday morning, and be rested. After all, it’s your ass on the line.” “We’ll be ready,” said David. “You can count on that.”

Freddie had set up the library at the villa as an editing room since it was designed in the old style with no windows, just dark woods and stacks of books which made for a perfect projection room. While Freddie and Cecilia waited for Dennis to arrive in the library, Freddie explained how digital movies were edited. “Most big budget movies are filmed in 35 or 70 millimeter acetate film which is very expensive and requires lots of time and money to edit,” he explained to the lovely lady. “The film has to be 113

Bret Malory developed and a working print is made from the negative. That print is put through one of those moviola devices that lets the editor move a scene back a forth until the right scene is found. Then that scene has to be cut and glued to the previous scene.” “Do we have to do all of that?” asked Cecilia in bewilderment. “No, but what I explained was just the beginning of big, Hollywood type films. After the working print is cut and approved, the editor has to cut the negative to exactly match the working print. At the same time the sound track is laid down on at least three tracks to exactly match the action and talking in the cut print. The three tracks have music, sound effects and dialogue. Finally all of the tracks and the film are mixed and the final result is a complete film with a synchronized sound track.” “My God,” Cecilia exclaimed. “No wonder films cost so much to produce. But how do we do it different?” “First of all, we filmed everything using digital cameras, so instead of images on film we have a bunch of ones and zeros that produce millions of bits of information about everything we filmed, including sound. We can copy it without loosing any fidelity and we can edit it electronically by moving scenes around plus we can add or subtract 114

The Taurus Caper sound, add special effects, titles and anything else we want.” “But how do you get a film that the theaters can project if it’s all digital?” “We take our finished digital master to a place like Consolidated Film Industries in Hollywood and they have special machines that can make us prints in any format we want from 16mm to Cinemascope. That process saves us millions of dollars and with the new million pixel cameras we get almost the same quality as the high production films.” “Why doesn’t everyone do it that way?” “Someday they will. The films will even be projected using special digital projectors. But for now, tradition, entrenched interests and esthetic considerations are still in command with the major studios.” “Show me how you edit.” “Okay. First we put several tapes filmed from different cameras that we want to edit into this digital editing machine which will give us the picture and sound. We can stop them at any particular spot we want and cut it there, electronically, and paste it into our master. Watch.” Freddie turned on the machine and brought up the bullfight they had filmed in Mexico City. “Here’s one scene filmed with the steady cam, 115

Bret Malory and here’s the same scene filmed with the boom camera. Now, this is the same scene filmed from behind the barrier. See, we can cut from one to the other to make it dramatic and coherent.” Freddie quickly cut several short scenes, patched them together on a master and then ran them back through the projector. “Amazing,” said Cecilia. “That has to be an art in itself.” “Editing is one of the most important aspects of filmmaking,” said Freddie, “and one of the most creative, since an editor can completely change how a film is perceived just by creative editing. That’s why most films are edited by the director along with the artistic director and a talented editor. Dennis and I wear all of the hats but I want you to get involved in this one.” Cecilia gave Freddie a big hug. “Freddie, I would love to do that.” “Also we have to do most of the post production work back in Hollywood so you can come up there and stay at my beach house in Santa Monica while we finish the film.” “I there no end to your largess?” she asked, giving him a big juicy kiss. Dennis walked in and shook his head. “Are we editing or rubbing body parts?” “A little of both,” laughed Freddie. “Well, let’s see what we have and get together a plan. Cecilia’s storyboard will give us direction so 116

The Taurus Caper we can organize all of the raw footage in sequence and get started.” Cecilia looked at the stacks of tapes and shook her head. “What a daunting task.” “You’ll be amazed at how fast it goes in the beginning,” said Freddie. “And once we cut out all of the unusable stuff we start getting a handle on it and can get in the creative mode.” “Then let’s get started!” said Cecilia.

On Saturday, the entire film crew, along with Jose Luis and David, jumped into the rented limo and headed for the Camino Real. Cecilia had alerted her friend at the Telemundo channel and he had agreed to bring out a TV crew to promote their bullfight on the evening news. Cecilia had purchased the ultimate statement in men’s fashion for the boys and they looked like rich rock stars. She had also called Primavera and told her to show up with a bunch of the pretty groupies, promising them lunch and drinks at the Camino Real poolside restaurant after the show of support for the young studs. The limo pulled up to the entrance to the hotel and the darling girls immediately surrounded the car and screamed in high pitched unison. The TV crew moved in close, ready to film. The chauffeur 117

Bret Malory opened the door allowing the two stars to step out into the bright spotlight as brand new celebrities. Some of the girls held out pads of paper for autographs while the TV camera rolled. One man, with a microphone in his hand, pushed his way through the crowd and stepped up to Jose Luis. “This is Jose Luis Negrete, who will be fighting two ferocious bulls in the Plaza Taurino tomorrow. How do you feel, Jose Luis, about your first bullfight?” “Anxious to start,” replied Jose Luis. “David and I are ready to give the public a great display of courage and skill.” “And this is David Lucidi, the American, who will share the cartel with Jose Luis. How do you feel, David?” “We will leave nothing back,” said David confidently. “I promise to cut two ears.” “Well, these young lads certainly have a lot of bravado,” said the interviewer. “Come out tomorrow and see if they can live up to their words.” The girls screamed again and rushed back in to surround the boys. Freddie and the others got out of the limo and looked at the happy scene. “Those boys are good,” said Cecilia. “Naturals.” “Come on guys, and bring the girls,” said Freddie. “Were going to have some lunch and a few tequilas.” 118

The Taurus Caper The manager of the restaurant rushed out and greeted the whole crew as if they were movie stars. “We have prepared the best table for your party, Sr. Bonner.” “I could get used to this life,” said Jose Luis. “If you boys behave yourselves and work hard and don’t get killed, it could be like this and even better,” said Cecilia. “You guys will be famous,” said Alicia, one of the groupies, hugging Jose Luis. “It looks like you’re already famous,” said Sandra, another of the sexy girls, as she wrapped her arms around David and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “The perks are piling up,” said Dennis. “And the beautiful women,” said Cecilia. “But beautiful women always seem to gravitate to bullfighters.” “Why not?” asked Dennis. “I mean, these guys are handsome athletes involved in a dangerous and high paying business. And women are always attracted to high paid alpha males.” “What’s an alpha male?” asked Alicia. “You know, the leader of the pack, the protector of the pride, the silver back male gorilla, the high testosterone stud that all females of the species want as the father of their child,” said Dennis, ever the philosopher. “I don’t know if I want David to be the father of 119

Bret Malory my child, but I would sure like to get his baby making machine in me for a practice run,” said Sandra boldly. Everyone looked at the darling girl as David beamed in anticipation. “Jose Luis is my dream baby-making stud,” said Alicia. “Enough of this world population explosion,” said Freddie. “Let’s get some food.” After a great meal and a patio show by the Ballet Folklorico, Freddie was feeling in an expansive mood. “We’re going back to the villa,” he said, “but I suggest you boys turn in to your beds in your fabulous suite at an early hour.” He looked at the pretty girls and smiled. “And I don’t mean having these lovely young women share those beds. You need your strength and wits for tomorrow.” “We’ll be good boys,” said Jose Luis, winking at David. “You don’t have to worry about us.” “Well, you’re both grown men and I’m not your keeper,” said Freddie. “We’ll be here at ten in the morning to film you suiting up. Then we’ll go to the bullring for some action.” The young bullfighters and the girls waved goodbye as the limo pulled out. “I guess we’d better take Freddie’s advice and not stay up late,” said Jose Luis. “You’re right,” said Alicia. “Let’s go up to your 120

The Taurus Caper suite and get an early start.” The two couples, giggling and hugging, headed out through the garden to the suite. The girls took in the luxurious accommodations and screamed in unison. “Wow!” said Alicia. “I could get very amorous in this suite.” “Look!” exclaimed Sandra. “They left a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice for us.” “Open it up, Jose Luis,” said Alicia, “and I’ll show you a fun game.” Jose Luis popped the cork and poured the bubbly into crystal flutes. “Now, how do you play this game?” “First, we all have to get naked.” Alicia pulled off her tank top and dropped her mini-skirt to the floor, revealing a wonderland of delightful female goodies. The other three party animals followed her example. The girls took in the ample appendages on the novilleros and gasp. “My God!” exclaimed Alicia. “You guys won’t even need to stuff socks in your suit of lights” She walked up to Jose Luis and rubbed her parts against his rapidly rising cock. She reached down and stroked it softly while she kissed him deeply causing a full blown, raging hard-on. She broke the kiss and smiled. “Now this thing is ready for the game. Here’s what I do and what 121

Bret Malory Sandra will do. We take a mouthful of the bubbly, but don’t swallow, and then we slide our man’s cock into a mouthful of tingling, cold champagne. I hear it’s a great sensation for the man.” Alicia took a mouthful of champagne, dropped to her knees on the rug, then slipped her juicy lips over the swollen cock. “Oh, my God!” exclaimed Jose Luis. “My turn,” Sandra followed to the letter what Alicia had done. David looked down at the fantastic connection. “Oh, my God, indeed,” he said through clenched teeth. The two luscious girls sucked furiously, sliding the huge members in and out of their ruby red lips while they swirled their champagne coated tongues around the tingling heads. Alicia popped the cock out of her mouth and held up her champagne glass. “Now comes phase two of this little game.” She took a mouthful of the bubbly, lifted up Jose Luis’ cock then sprayed champagne all over his balls. She immediately flicked out her tongue and began licking the tasty liquid off of his startled cajones “This game gets better by the minute,” said Jose Luis with a crooked smile, as Sandra repeated the thrills on David. “Wait,” said Alicia, “there’s more. “Now, Sandra and I have a contest to see who can make 122

The Taurus Caper her man cum first. Are you guys ready for phase three?” “Fire the fasers,” shouted the two bullfighters. “Ready, set….suck!” said Alicia as she dove down on Jose Luis’s eager cock. The two girls started a series of cocksucking moves that would do credit to the most talented porno queens. The temperature in the room skyrocketed as the two young men felt the inexorable impending explosion rapidly starting the launch sequence. The girls also felt the tightening of the balls and the swelling of the cocks as the simultaneous orgasms shot hot cum deep into their luscious mouths. “Ohhh,” the two men wheezed in unison as the girls sucked up every spurt. Finally the two bullfighters wound down as the wonderful pleasure machines finished their amazing work. David looked at Jose Luis. “I’d call it a tie,” he gasped.

The next morning at ten, Freddie and the film crew showed up at the suite and took in all of the empty bottles, scattered clothes, and the distinct smell of sex. “I think we’re in trouble,” said Freddie. Jose Luis and David came out of the bathroom 123

Bret Malory wearing towels and looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Bring on those fucking bulls!” shouted David. “We’ll, they’re still totally crazy,” said Dennis, “so I guess we’re going to have an exciting bullfight.” Freddie had sprung for brand new uniforms for the boys and the traje de luces that he pulled out of the hanging bags were indeed spectacular. David’s suit of lights were made of a silky material dyed chocolate brown and glittered with gold brocade on the jacket and pants. Jose Luis would wear a silver-blue uniform with silver brocade. Those outfits, on the slim and well tuned bodies of the young bullfighters, transformed the young men into bigger than life heroes. Their wellendowed and still slightly swollen penises bulged aggressively in the tight fitting pants. Dennis moved around the men with the steady-cam, filming close-ups of the miraculous transformation. “You two are the most gorgeous bullfighters I have ever seen!” exclaimed Cecilia. “If you guys perform as well as you look, we’ll have a spectacular fight,” said Dennis. “Let’s get this show on the road,” said Freddie as Gary packed up the camera. “These studs have a date with destiny.”

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The entourage arrived at the small bullring in the white stretch limo as thousands of fans started packing the stands. Jose Luis and David almost caused a riot when they stepped out of the limo in their brilliant suits of light. Girls rushed up for autographs while cameras flashed. Mariano Mariscal had furnished several bodyguards to protect the boys as they entered the bullring and they finally cleared a path through the throngs of adoring fans. In the coral area behind the bullring, the two bullfighters paused at the holding pens to look over the bulls they would be fighting later in the afternoon. The animals stood placidly in the shady pens, looking huge and strong but not at all menacing. That would change when the fighting bulls burst into the bright sunlight of the ring. Bands and clowns performed in the ring as the film crew set up the boom camera, the steady cam and the tripod mounted camera while the bullfighters waited patiently for the late afternoon start of the fight. Finally, the entire cuadrilla lined up at the gate, ready to enter the ring. The band struck up La Virgen de la Macarena, the gates opened and David and Jose Luis strode confidently out into the bright sunlight of the ring, ready and eager to start their careers as working novilleros. 125

Bret Malory Even though this was a small bullring with novilleros, all of the pomp and ceremony, all of the tradition and ritual would be followed. Finally the two bullfighters retired behind the barrera to await the trumpet blast that would signal the entrance of the first bull. David had drawn the first bull so he picked up the large pink and gold cape and walked out into the ring alone. He stopped in front of the ‘gate of fear’ where the bull would enter, spread out the cape, got down on his knees and waited. A murmur rose from the crowd as they realized he was going to attempt the portagayola, where the bullfighter kneels directly in the path of the bull without any prior knowledge of how the wild beast is going to react. The aficionados knew that this was a pass that even the most experienced bullfighter never attempted. The clarion call of a lone trumpet split the air as the gate opened and one thousand pounds of wild bull charged out into the bright sunlight. The bull spotted David and charged as if on a rail, straight toward the lone bullfighter. David did not flinch, he waited until the last possible split second and then swirled the bright cape out to the side and up in a graceful, fluttering move. The bull took the bait, launched itself at the cape and jumped right over David’s head, its hoofs barely missing the bullfighter’s exposed skull. The crowd, stunned into silence, finally erupted 126

The Taurus Caper into one long ‘Oooooooole!’, as the bull spun quickly, eager to renew the attack. David jumped to his feet, got the bull’s attention, then entered into a series of artistic passes that ended with the bull standing alone, panting and confused. David turned and walked back behind the wooden fence with his back to the bull. The crowd leaped to its feet, cheering loudly. “Holy shit!” exclaimed Freddie to Cecilia. “That kid is totally without fear.” “And he’s good,” said Cecilia. “Did you get all of that on film?” “I zoomed in with a real tight shot that should be amazing,” he said excitedly. In the second tercio, David decided to place the banderillas himself. He took two of the brightly colored barbed sticks, walked over to the wooden fence and broke them, leaving only the barb and about six inches of the stick. He pounded the broken ends of the sticks against the wooden planks to smash down the splinters then walked out into the ring with the very short banderillas. David ran toward the bull and, as the bull charged, feinted to the left then back to the right just as the bull roared past. David calmly reached over the dangerous horns and placed the small barbs into the hump of the bull’s back, so close to the bull that the huge body bumped David while the horns grazed his suit of lights. 127

Bret Malory Another ‘Ole’ erupted as David went back to the fence to pick up two more banderillas. “This kid is amazing,” said Freddie. “Just like I said, he’s a natural,” said Cecilia. The rest of the afternoon turned out to be anticlimactic after that amazing start, but David did cut two ears on his first bull, just like he said he would. Jose Luis displayed a more classical style but performed adequately and cut one ear from his last bull. In the end, both bullfighters were hoisted in triumph by the fans and paraded around the ring in celebration. As Gary started packing up the cameras, Mariano Mariscal came over to Freddie’s box and shook his hand. “Our boys are terrific,” he said effusively. “Especially that David Lucidi. I think I’ll give them a big bonus for that performance.” “They certainly made our film,” said Freddie. “I couldn’t have scripted a better result.” David and Jose Luis pushed their way through their adoring fans and made it up to the box. “How’d you like that?” asked David proudly. “You guys were great!” said Freddie. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” “The best first novillero fight I have ever seen,” said Cecilia. “And neither one of you even got tossed. Totally amazing!” “I’m giving you each a ten thousand peso bonus,” said Mariano. “We have a great future 128

The Taurus Caper together in this business.” “What do we do now, boss?” asked Jose Luis. “I’m working on your next bullfight and I’m going to take you all to dinner at the Cazadores tonight,” said Mariano. “Get cleaned up and get some of your pretty ladies and we’ll all meet there at eight.” “I have to settle up with that fat impresario,” said Freddie. “He sold the meat to a butcher to help pay for the bulls and we also get a cut of the concessions and the ticket proceeds.” Freddie, Dennis and Cecilia went down to where they slaughtered the bulls. They found the butcher packing up the last of the beef. “Where’s the impresario?” asked Freddie. “I paid him and he left,” said the butcher. Freddie suddenly had a sinking feeling. “Oh no,” he said. “I think we’ve been ripped off. Let’s find the concessions’ man.” They located the man in the parking lot, packing up the last of his supplies. “Where is that fat bastard?” Freddie demanded. The concessionaire shrugged. “I paid him his cut and he took off.” “No sense looking for the ticket proceeds,” said Freddie. “They’ll be gone too.” “What should we do?” asked Dennis. “It must have been thousands of dollars.” “That fucking thief,” said Freddie. “I had a 129

Bret Malory feeling I couldn’t trust him.” “He’ll be long gone,” said Cecilia. “I’ve had run-ins with his type.” “Well, fuck it,” said Freddie. “We had a successful bullfight and we got some terrific footage. I guess we shouldn’t sweat the small stuff.” “Let’s tell Mariano,” suggested Cecilia. “I’m sure he has ways of dealing with that bastard.” “That’s right,” said Freddie. “Mariano stood to make some money out of this because of our contract. I’ll bet he doesn’t take too kindly to being ripped off.” “No,” said Cecilia thoughtfully. “Mariano will track him down and kill him.” “I’m not going to worry about that. What we need to do is pack up here and go to Santa Monica for the post-production work.” “Do we have an ending for this epic?” asked Dennis.” “I think the scene where the crowd carries the boys out of the ring on their shoulders will do just fine. How could we top that?” “You’re right, as usual,” said Dennis. “I got several close-ups of their triumphant faces glowing in the afternoon sun, very artistic. We could crank in some stirring music over those scenes as the credits roll and call it a done deal.” “I think we’ve got another award winner,” said 130

The Taurus Caper Freddie. “I’m sure of it,” said Dennis.

Mariano had reserved a private room at the Cazadores for the post bullfight party and he had spared no expense. The room was decorated with dozens of red and white roses, a giant blowup of the bullfight poster of David and Jose Luis, along with bullfighting posters of the greats of the corrida. Mariano somehow had managed to get a display case made that showed the trophy ears that the boys had cut earlier in the day. Ice buckets with bottles of Dom Perignon champagne, placed strategically around the table for toast and revelry, loudly announced the ostentation of the Cartel boss. Seven waiters and wine servers stood around the table in white tuxedos ready to jump to any command. Five burly men, obviously Mariano’s body guards, stood guard watching every move. Mariachis and strolling trios of musicians played music associated with the bullfighting mystique, infusing the ambience with a festive feeling that reflected the culture of the corrida. The stars of the party, Jose Luis and David, sat at the head of the table with Sandra and Alicia. The boys, dressed in rented white dinner jackets, 131

Bret Malory looked handsome, rich and famous. Their ladies, dressed in stunning cocktail dresses, looked like they belonged in the jet set world of the rich and famous. It was a party befitting the culmination of that miraculous day. Dennis filmed the affair, thinking it might serve as an alternate ending for the film. After a sumptuous meal of roast pork, pheasant, and every other imaginable main dish and an endless flow of deserts, fine wines and brandy, Mariano clinked his glass. “My new friends” he said, looking very dapper in a very expensive tuxedo. “When I decided to get into this business I had no idea I would hit the jackpot on the first roll of the dice. But, as you all saw today, we have discovered two young men who will certainly make their mark in the annuls of bullfighting. They displayed unusual courage, great artistry and a command of the bulls that is rarely seen in this business, especially from novilleros.” Everyone cheered and shouted, To-re-ro, To-rero, while Jose Luis and David beamed broadly, savoring the moment in obvious delight. Mariano finally settled the crowd down by clinking on his glass again. “I have been busy in the last few hours and I have arranged a series of novilladas for David and Jose Luis in major bullrings around Mexico, 132

The Taurus Caper including Acapulco, Cuernavaca, Merida, San Miguel de Allende, Puerto Vallarta and finally, Tijuana.” Everyone cheered again while the young bullfighters looked stunned at the sudden news of how quickly their triumph that afternoon had translated into a sudden future in bullfighting. The rest of the evening whirled around the stars like a movie until, finally everyone started to leave. Freddie and the film crew finally had a chance to talk to the young men. “Thank you so much for what you’ve done for us,” said David. “You guys have launched us into this exciting world and we’ll always be grateful,” added Jose Luis. “We have to go back to Hollywood in a couple of days,” said Freddie. “But after you fight in Tijuana we want you to come up to the premier of our little film as the stars.” “And I’ll be there too,” said Mariano. “I will make a deal to show the film in cinemas all over Mexico.” All of the film crew hugged the young men in a warm farewell. “We’ll be in touch,” said Freddie, “and we’ll see you in Hollywood.”

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Bret Malory Two months later, Freddie and Cecilia sat on the wide balcony of Freddie’s beach house in Santa Monica, sipping champagne and watching the pelicans gracefully skim waves while skaters glided by on the paved path that followed the edge of the sandy beach. “This is the beach house in paradise,” said Cecilia. “I’ve never felt so at peace or so fulfilled in my life.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you for including me in this part of the adventure.” “You certainly earned it,” said Freddie, staring at her beautiful face. “Your narration and ideas added an extra dimension to the film that wouldn’t be there without you.” “It is an impressive film. That screening last night was so wonderful it left me weeping and limp and the people we invited were certainly impressed.” “We’re going to enter it in several film festivals, so we’ll be busy for the next few months,” said Freddie. “Can you clear your calendar and go with us?” “You and this film are my life now, so of course I’ll go with you. A herd of wild bulls couldn’t keep me away.” “It certainly is nice to relax for awhile after the hectic schedule we’ve had editing the film,” said Freddie. 134

The Taurus Caper “We’ve worked such long nights our sex life has suffered a bit,” said Cecilia. “Maybe it’s time to light the fires again.” Freddie gazed appreciatively at her delightful body, displayed sexily in a scanty bikini. “Do you remember our first sexual encounter at that bull ranch?” “Of course. How could I forget that?” “Do you remember you promised to teach me the ‘mind-fuck’? We never have gotten around to that interesting exploration.” “I have been remiss,” she said coquettishly. “I think it’s time, right now, for a mind blowing mind-fuck.” “I am certainly game for that,” said Freddie, lightly stroking her cheek. “How does one go about such a thing?” “First of all, it takes two.” She stood up and looked down at the beach. “I guess we’re high enough here so no one can see us from down there.” She reached down and pulled off Freddie’s swimming suit. “First of all we have to get the playing field clear of all obstacles.” She slipped down her bikini bottom and pulled off the scanty top, leaving her delightfully naked. “I thought this was a mind-fuck” said Freddie as his cock rose aggressively, stimulated by the sight of her delightful female parts and the abstinence of the long work hours. 135

Bret Malory “As you know, the mind is part of the total package, so the body has to be involved although the focus of this exercise is the mind.” She reached down and delicately stroked his cock. “As they say, man has two heads but only enough blood to run one at a time,” laughed Freddie as he watched the effects of her caresses. “You will find that they are part of the same continuum. Now, here is what we do. We get this and that well lubricated.” She put one finger on her pussy and pointed to his cock as she said that interesting bit of news. She suddenly swung one leg over his chaise and positioned her delightful love opening directly over his mouth. “Lick it lightly until the lips are engorged and very slippery,” she said as she lowered herself down on his mouth. Freddie, the good soldier, started the labial stimulation as ordered. “Very good!” said Cecilia, moving her hips forward and back so he could reach all of the good parts, from her clit to the tender spot at the bottom. She raised up and moved down until she was over his throbbing member. She bent down and took it quickly into her hot and juicy mouth. She sucked up and down then lifted her head and let a stream of saliva slip past her lips onto the bulging head of his cock. She stood up, grabbed the shaft and aimed it 136

The Taurus Caper directly at her glowing opening, then lowered herself slowly down until every inch of the thick cock had been engulfed into the fiery tunnel. “Now, the object of this exercise is not to move these connected parts, neither in or out or back and forth. We just let the man to woman connection speak for itself.” Cecilia bent down until her perky breasts touched his chest, then pressed her mouth on his mouth while she stared into his eyes. “Now we start the mind-fuck,” she said, her hot breath blowing past his mouth. “We concentrate on feeling each other and use our mind as the stimulus. I visualize you inside of me, touching the walls of my pussy, filling me to congestion, as my juices mingle with the slick ooze that comes out the end of your cock. You visualize the amazing, tingling sensation of my hot pussy as it completely engulfs your hot cock. And we slowly build until we have an orgasm.” Freddie pulsed his cock with blood, causing it to expand and twitch. “That’s not fair,” Cecilia exclaimed as that excitement sent waves of sensation rippling up and down her steamy pussy. “See what I mean,” she said as she gave him a series of quick pussy hugs. Freddie, stimulated by the sexy talk and the peristaltic effect of her pussy hugs, started thrusting in and out as he clutched her tightly. Her 137

Bret Malory eyes opened wide and she surrendered to the moment, grinding her fine ass in aggressive circles as she bounced up and down on his straining cock. “So much for the mind-fuck,” she shouted as an orgasm started to shake and rattle her body, That statement set Freddie’s juices up in an inexorable rush to escape into the burning confines and the first spurt erupted as he grabbed her ass and hung on tight. “Fuck the mind-fuck,” he gasped as his orgasm matched hers in intensity. The chaise bounced across the wooden planking of the balcony as the over-stimulated couple thrashed wildly in the clutches of a massive mutual orgasm. Finally, the lovers wound down and returned to the serenity of breaking waves and light warm breezes. “Do you think we will ever master the mindfuck thing?” said Freddie into Cecilia’s ear as he clutched her tightly to his body. “Maybe not,” she said in a mellow voice. “But we have to keep trying.” “Tenacity is tantamount to titillation,” he said. “T cubed.” “That will be our new secret code,” Cecilia said, giggling. “Anytime we want to mind-fuck or any other kind of super sex, we’ll just say, ‘T cubed’.”

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As the date for the premier approached, Scorpio Productions launched into a full-court press in preparation for the huge event. Because Freddie had won the Academy Award for documentaries two years earlier, he could command any theater in Hollywood as a venue for the premier. His status in the film community was almost equal to that of Michael Moore, except that Freddie’s films were more artistic than controversial or political. The whole film crew had descended on Tijuana for the final bullfight on the tour that had been arranged by Mariano for David and Jose Luis. The boys had set the bullfighting world on fire, at least in Mexico, with their consistently courageous and artistic performances. They had become national heroes with fan clubs, endless interviews, covers of fan magazines and appearances on popular TV shows. “Who would have thought those two crazies would come so far so fast?” asked Dennis, as they made their way to their ringside seats in the shade side of the ring. “I just wonder how this whole experience has changed them,” said Cecilia. “I wonder if those innocent, poverty stricken lads are gone forever.” “First of all, they were never innocent and they certainly aren’t poverty stricken now,” said Freddie. “But I would guess all of this notoriety 139

Bret Malory has changed them.” The band struck up a pasodoble and the cuadrilla entered the ring. Jose Luis and David looked confident and impressive, handsome and dashing in their suit of lights. “God, those guys glow!” said Dennis. “No wonder they’re so popular.” The two novilleros dispatched the four bulls with flair and daring, cutting an ear each and ending with a rousing ovation from the enthusiastic crowd, many of whom were Americans who had crossed the border to check out the Gringo Novillero. The film crew hurried down to the press area to congratulate the young men and pick them up for the trip to Hollywood in the stretch limo for the premier. After about a half an hour, David and Jose Luis, freshly showered and dressed like rock stars, appeared for the interviews. The film crew watched proudly as the boys handled the press like seasoned veterans, answering all of the questions with humor and good will. “Those guys remind me of the Beatles when they first came to the States,” said Dennis. “Cheeky and very confident.” Finally the two novilleros broke out of the mob and rushed up to the film crew, giving every member a huge hug. “Were we good, or what?” asked David. 140

The Taurus Caper “An adequate display of macho bravado,” said Freddie wryly. “I think you might have a future in this business.” “Don’t listen to the old grunge,” said Cecilia. “You were wonderful.” “Are you guys ready to head to the big time?” asked Freddie. “A Hollywood premier is awaiting you. Red carpet, limos, beautiful women, the whole enchilada.” “Lead on, great movie wizard,” said David. “We’ll knock ‘em dead.” Freddie had rented bungalows at the Beverly Hills Hotel for the two novilleros and the film crew, knowing that the beautiful pink hotel was the ultimate status symbol in the high roller world of Hollywood. This was the hotel where Clark Gable, Harlow and many others held their semisecret lover’s trysts in the very same bungalows. When the limo pulled up to the imposing entrance, the boys gawked like yokels from the plains. The valet led them around the famous pool on their way to the bungalows. Recognizable stars seemed to be sitting at every table, enjoying the warm afternoon. “There’s Gwyneth Paltrow!” exclaimed David. “And over there is Hugh Jackman.” “Don’t waste your time on minor stars,” said Freddie. “At the premier tomorrow, you’ll see the whole ‘A’ list.” 141

Bret Malory A representative of the Armani Group showed up at the main bungalow to outfit everyone in designer clothes, the caveat being that they would mention the Armani name in the interview along the red carpet. Cecilia modeled her stunning gown while the men were draped in three thousand dollar suits. “Now this is class,” said Jose Luis, turning slowly to show off the impeccable suit. “Beats the crap out of ragged blue jeans.” “Don’t get too attached to these threads,” said Dennis. “They’re only loaning them to us.” “I’ll have suits like this,” said David. “And very soon.” “I’d rather have a Ferrari,” said Jose Luis. “I love the way you boys dream big,” said Freddie. “Shoot for the moon.” “I say, live fast, die young and have a good looking corpse,” said Gary. “You certainly saved our asses from becoming good looking corpses in Guadalajara,” said Freddie. “But enough of this death talk. Let’s go down to that fancy bar and party.”

“Freddie Bonner’s new docudrama, THE YOUNG BULLFIGHTERS, is a wide screen spectacle of courage, macho bravado, pageantry and, most of all dreams. The 142

The Taurus Caper film follows two young novice bullfighters, Jose Luis Negrete, a Mexican and David Lucidi, an American, as they pursue their dreams of becoming bullfighters. The two young men posses amazing amounts of charisma, movie star good looks, and almost suicidal bravery, all of which translates into a compelling screen presence that completely envelops us into their exciting lives. This is a great film by a talented director that will garner many awards and fill theaters everywhere.” Cecilia finished reading the Variety review and looked up at the film crew and bullfighters who were sitting on Freddie Bonner’s balcony at his beach house in Santa Monica. The premier had been a resounding success with raucous parties that lasted well into the morning. Despite their collective hang-overs, everyone felt ebullient and ecstatic. “What a great review!” exclaimed Dennis. “And the LA Times is even better.” “At one of those parties a woman from the William Morris Agency asked Jose Luis and me if we had an agent,” said David. “She said we could get into the movie and TV business if we let them represent us.” “That’s the most prestigious talent agency in town,” said Freddie. “They could certainly give you a running start if you decide to pursue the acting gig.” “This whole Hollywood thing is very tempting,” said David. “But Jose Luis and I 143

Bret Malory discussed it and decided that bullfighting is in our blood and that’s what we want to do.” “Just remember,” said Dennis, “the camera isn’t out to kill you.” “Then where’s the thrill in that?” asked David. “See,” said Dennis. “I told you these guys were crazy.”

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About the Author Bret Mallory has been a Hollywood stunt man, an independent film producer, the CEO of several companies and has lived in Mexico, Panama and Canada.