The nightclub security guard took me to his office

I saw him for the first time at midday, in the café attached to a well-known nightclub on the Marbella coast. He was sitting at the counter, eating a huge sandwich with a beer beside him, and just seeing him left my mouth dry. He was wearing tight Lycra shorts that outlined every muscle in his thighs and a sleeveless T-shirt so open at the sides that you could make out half his back. From the way he looked, he seemed Eastern European: almost white hair, light eyes, and a height that was close to six foot three. A mass of a man, the kind you don’t find often in the gym I go to three times a week.

That noon I missed my chance. I went into the bathroom for a minute and, when I came out, the stool he’d been occupying was empty. I wanted to kick myself for letting the opportunity slip by. I promised myself I’d go back the next day and the day after, as many times as it took, until I ran into him again.

That same night, when I closed the boutique where I worked during the summer season, I passed in front of the nightclub on my way home and there he was again. He was at the entrance, dressed in a dark suit and a light blue shirt open almost down to his navel. The abs peeking out between the lapels made every woman walking past on the sidewalk turn her head. A badge pinned to his lapel said SECURITY. Who would have the nerve to sneak in or start trouble with a wardrobe like that at the door?

I stood still on the opposite sidewalk, staring at him longer than was reasonable, while I felt my thong grow damp. At that very instant I decided I had to fuck him somehow, even if that meant coming on to him shamelessly, offering myself without conditions, and letting him do whatever he wanted to me, wherever he wanted.

I got home with his muscles still burned into the backs of my eyes. I undressed, got into the shower, and aimed the hot stream at my pussy until my legs started to tremble. I masturbated twice in a row, imagining him behind me, pounding me and spanking me while he held my waist with those huge hands. I fell asleep determined and breathing hard.

***

The next day, before heading out to the boutique, I put in a bag a very short denim skirt, a white sleeveless top with a neckline so low that everything I was wearing underneath showed through, and my red patent-leather stilettos with twelve-centimeter heels. I didn’t want to leave any room for doubt.

In the afternoon, when I closed the shop, I changed in the fitting room. No bra, my nipples pressing against the fabric. I let my hair down and touched up my lips. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew I was heading straight to the café looking for trouble.

I walked through the door and, with one sweep of my gaze, found him at the counter drinking a beer, just like the day before. I picked a table right across from him and sat sideways, leaving all my anatomy exposed to anyone who wanted to look.

“What can I get you, gorgeous?” the waiter came over and asked.

“A beer and a portion of squid,” I replied without lifting my eyes from the menu.

The waiter was looking at my cleavage from above with barely any attempt to hide it. When he brought the drink over, I leaned toward him and asked in a low voice whether the muscular guy at the counter worked there. He smiled with a sly expression and explained that he was the security manager for both venues: the café and the nightclub next door. My intuition hadn’t failed me.

As soon as the waiter went back behind the bar, I saw them talking and looking in my direction. I took the opportunity to part my legs and then bring them back together, giving the muscle man a good view of the lilac thong I’d put on that morning thinking about him specifically. Something that always attracts men like flies to honey.

When the waiter disappeared, he was still staring at me without blinking. I opened my legs again, this time more slowly, holding his gaze. I wasn’t going to leave him any doubt about what I was offering.

He grabbed his bottle and came over to my table with a calm stride, never taking his eyes off my crotch. When he got there, he held out his huge hand and said:

“Lukas.”

“Lara,” I answered.

Standing up, with me seated, he seemed even bigger than he had the night before. He dropped into the chair beside me, brought his face close to my ear and, while he spoke to me, covered one breast with his gigantic hand over my top.

“Do you like rough sex?” he asked very close to my neck.

“What I don’t like is sex that’s lukewarm and unimaginative,” I replied.

He slid his hand down my side, rested it on my thigh, and started moving slowly upward until he reached the edge of my thong. He never once took his eyes off mine, and I didn’t take my hand off his knee. I was letting him do it and we both knew it. I picked up my beer and downed it in one gulp. I clamped my legs together, trapping his hand. He finished his drink, stood up, and without saying anything else, motioned with his head for me to follow him.

***

We didn’t go far. He pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket and opened a side door of the nightclub with a sign that said EMPLOYEE ACCESS ONLY. He locked it behind me from the inside and took me upstairs. We entered an office with one entire wall made of smoked glass looking out over the seafront promenade and the beach. From there you could see the lit-up beach bars and the white lights on the boats.

He pressed my back against the glass and hiked my skirt up to my waist without asking permission. He traced the edge of my thong with one finger and slid his hand inside, feeling my pussy entrance. I lifted his shirt just enough to get my tongue to his nipples. I licked and bit them slowly while I groped his cock over his trousers. It was already starting to thicken.

He slid one finger in. He checked how wet I was and then inserted two, pressing upward and flattening my clit with the base of his thumb. I hadn’t noticed his hands before, but they were strong, broad, with thick fingers that filled me far more than I was used to. I felt packed full inside and, at the highest point, on the verge of losing my mind. This was sex for the sheer pleasure of having it. The rougher, the better.

As soon as the first moan slipped out of me, he grabbed my waist and lifted me as if I weighed half as much. He tossed me over his shoulder, slipped one arm between my legs, and put them up over his shoulders until my pussy was pressed against his mouth. He shoved my ass forward, flattened me against the glass again, and started working me with his tongue in slow circles, as if he wanted to clean me and, at the same time, leave me even wetter. He succeeded. His chin was getting soaked.

“I want you to come only once,” he told me, pulling his face back for a second. “After that I need you so open I can slide all the way in without any effort.”

He went back to eating me out without waiting for an answer. I would have liked to tell him I completely agreed, but his tongue was moving so fast I couldn’t form any words. I tried to hold off the orgasm as long as possible, to make it last, but I couldn’t. When I let go it was long, vibrating, almost painful, and he took the opportunity to bite my clit on the final spasm.

He waited for me to catch my breath, slowly running his tongue just above my mound. When he lowered me to the floor, he slid me down against his body. As soon as my heels touched the ground, he told me in a low voice to suck him off and get him properly hard. I pulled down his pants and underwear. I was surprised to find him completely shaved. I took his cock with both hands and discovered it had so many prominent veins it looked like tree bark. I drooled, thinking about what was still missing.

I started with his balls. I took one into my mouth and, even though it was big, I had no trouble. I’m used to opening my mouth wider than most. Then I worked my way up the shaft, licking it slowly, and only then did I take it in. I stroked him with one hand while swallowing as much as I could, wanting the oral session to end as soon as possible. I needed him to fuck me now.

He grabbed me under the armpits and lifted me upright like a doll. He pulled a condom from his trouser pocket, rolled it on with a quick motion, and pressed my back against the glass again. He yanked my hip forward and, when he found my pussy opening with his, he shoved so hard that if he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have fallen. He didn’t give me time to recover. He pulled out and drove in again, over and over, tugging my hips with every thrust.

When he noticed I was about to go, he started twisting my nipples and I saw stars while he kept moving inside me. From there he moved on to slapping my breasts with an open hand, top to bottom, until I felt tiny needles under my skin. I came screaming against the glass and, this time, it was he who had to hold me up so I wouldn’t hit the floor. My fifty-four kilos felt like too much for my own legs.

He picked me up again and set me on a chair, with my back to him. He forced me to lean forward, bracing myself on the backrest, and started licking my ass with the same calm he’d used before to eat my pussy. He put one finger in my cunt and, when he pulled it out soaked, he slipped it into my asshole. He checked that it gave way easily and, without warning, took me back to the window, made me stick my ass up, and started spanking me. When my cheeks were burning, he entered me from behind in one single thrust.

He lifted me, pressing my whole body against the glass. We both knew that anyone looking up from the promenade could see me exposed and with no doubt about what was happening. The idea that someone might be down there watching me while he was fucking me in the ass against the huge window only made me hotter.

I couldn’t hold back the pressure on my bladder. Just before I came, I wet myself a little, soaking my thighs and the glass, and he took advantage of my loss of control to bury himself inside me several times in a row and push me to the very top. I was exhausted and on the verge of begging for mercy, but he kept at it until my body responded again. I came for the third time, this time silently, with no strength left to scream.

Only then did he pull out. He took me in his arms, sat me on the chair, and removed the condom. Standing in front of me, he held his cock very close to my face and told me to finish him off with my mouth. I was grateful for all the orgasms he’d wrung out of me. I took him with both hands, put him all the way in my mouth, and started sucking and stroking him at the same time, as fast as my jaw would allow.

After half an hour of fucking me, he still hadn’t come. When he finally did, it was enormous. I had to let some of the semen spill from the corner of my mouth so I wouldn’t choke. I ran my hand down his shaft to gather up what had escaped and took it back to my mouth again. When I pulled away, my jaw was aching and my lips were swollen.

He pointed out where the bathroom was and I cleaned myself up just enough not to go out into the street smelling of sex. It took a few minutes. When I came out, he asked me to wait and went in himself to freshen up. He came back immaculate, as if nothing had happened in that office, took me by the hand, and walked me to the service door.

Before opening it for me, he gave me a small kiss on the lips. It was the first time he had kissed me, and I was surprised by how gentle it was.

“It was a pleasure fucking you, Lara,” he said in a low voice.

I went out into the street with a sore ass, unsteady legs, and a stupid grin I couldn’t shake. I walked home without looking back. I never went back to the café for the rest of the season, although every time I passed in front of the nightclub I looked for that smoked window upstairs. Some confessions are told only once and locked away in some drawer of the mind. This one is mine.