What the Club’s Security Guard Did to Me in His Office

I saw him at midday in the café right next to one of the best-known clubs on the Málaga coast. He was sitting at the counter, tearing into an enormous sandwich with a beer beside him. He was wearing tight Lycra pants that showed off every muscle in his thighs and a sleeveless T-shirt so open at the sides it revealed the start of his chest and obliques. Compared to the gym I go to three times a week, this man was on another level. Almost white hair, light eyes, easily six foot three. A brute. From his features, definitely Slavic.

I missed my chance that afternoon. I went into the bathroom for a moment and, when I came out, his stool was empty. I was so angry with myself for not having worked my charms sooner that I decided to go back the next day and the next, until I caught him again.

That same night, when I left the boutique where I work during the summer, I saw him again. This time at the club entrance, in a dark suit and a light blue shirt open almost down to his navel. Pinned to his chest was a badge that read SECURITY. Any idea of sneaking in or starting trouble died the moment you saw him standing there. I stayed on the pavement, not even trying to hide it, watching him while I felt my crotch growing damp. In that instant I decided I was going to fuck him no matter what it cost me, even if I had to come on to him brazenly and offer him no-strings sex.

That night I got home with those muscles burned into my retina. I undressed, got into the shower, and aimed the hot stream at my pubic mound. I closed my eyes and gave myself a couple of hand jobs, imagining him penetrating me from behind, his huge hands gripping my hips, landing blow after blow as he drove into me. I came standing up, biting my lip so I wouldn’t make a sound.

The next day I went to work with a bag packed. Inside, a very short denim skirt, a white T-shirt so low-cut under the arms that, without a bra, it lets my breasts sway and shows my nipples through the fabric, and red patent-leather stilettos with twelve-centimeter heels. If I’d decided the night before that I was going to fuck him, I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

When I closed the boutique, I changed in the fitting room. When I looked in the mirror, there was no doubt left about what I was after. I headed to the café at a slow walk, feeling the men passing me stare. I peered in through the door and there he was, on the same stool at the bar. I picked a table right across from him and sat sideways, not hiding a single millimeter of my body.

—What can I get you? —the waiter appeared two seconds later, eyeing my cleavage from above.

—A beer and a plate of squid.

When he came back with the beer, I asked, as if it were nothing, whether the guy with the muscles at the bar worked there. He gave me a sly smile and told me he was head of security for both places, the café and the club. My instinct had been right.

As soon as the waiter disappeared behind the bar, I saw them talking. Both of them looked toward my table, and I took the chance to cross and uncross my legs slowly, giving them a full view of the lilac thong I’d put on. The kind of thing that always attracts men like flies to honey.

***

When the waiter disappeared through the kitchen door, the bouncer was still staring at me shamelessly. I opened my thighs a couple of centimeters wider, slowly, and held the pose. He picked up his bottle, got off the stool, and walked over to my table. The closer he came, the bigger he seemed. With me sitting down and him standing a hand’s breadth away, the contrast was almost comical.

—Iván —he said, extending his hand.

—Lucía.

He sat down beside me, not across from me, and brought his face close to my ear while his huge hand covered one breast over my T-shirt. His palm enclosed the whole thing. I didn’t move an inch. That was exactly what I’d come for.

—Do you like rough sex? —he asked so quietly only I could hear.

—What I don’t like is simple, unimaginative sex —I replied without moving.

He slid his hand down my side, rested it on my thigh, and started to work it upward, pressing, never taking his eyes off mine. When he reached my pubic mound, he didn’t stop. I drained my beer in one gulp and closed my legs, trapping his hand. He lifted his bottle, emptied it too, and stood up, tugging at my wrist. No words were needed.

We walked the twenty meters that separated the café from the club’s side entrance. He pulled a set of keys from his trouser pocket and opened a door marked EXCLUSIVE STAFF ACCESS. He locked it behind me and led me up a narrow staircase to the first floor. He went into an office with an entire wall of smoked glass looking out onto the beach. The moon was reflected in the sand.

He backed me up against the glass and hiked my skirt to my waist with both hands. He traced the edge of my thong with one finger, moved it aside, and felt the entrance to my pussy. I pulled up his T-shirt to his neck, leaned in, and licked the nipples he had at face level. I sucked them slowly while groping his cock over his trousers. It already had some heft, but it wasn’t fully hard yet.

***

He slipped one finger inside me. Feeling how wet I was, he pulled it out and pushed in two, pressing upward and flattening my clit with the base of his thumb. I hadn’t paid attention to his hands: thick fingers, broad, strong. I could feel them inside me as if they filled everything. The pressure on my clit was driving me insane. It was sex for sex’s sake. No preliminaries, no conversation, just wanting to give each other pleasure and, the rougher it was, the hotter it got.

At the first moan that escaped me, he grabbed my waist and lifted me as if I weighed nothing. He hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, slipped one arm between my legs, hauled them up onto his shoulders, and left my cunt at mouth level, my back against the cold glass. He shoved my ass toward his face, pinned me to the wall, and shoved his tongue into my pussy in slow circles, as if he wanted to clean me out. All he managed to do was make me wetter. I could feel a thread of it running down his chin.

—I want you to come once and only once —he told me, parting his lips for a second—. We’re not going to wear the party out that fast. What I want is for you to be so wet I can shove it in all the way in one go.

He was back to his tongue before I could answer. I tried to hold off my orgasm as long as I could, but his mouth gave me no respite. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I let go. At the exact moment of climax he bit my clit, softly, with his teeth, and made me scream. I had to brace my hands against the glass so I wouldn’t fall.

He waited for my breathing to return to normal, dragging his tongue just above my pubic mound. He eased me down slowly, sliding me against his body, and when my feet touched the floor he told me to suck his cock to get it ready. I pulled down his trousers and boxers in one move. I was surprised to find his pubic hair shaved close. I took one ball into my mouth first. It was big, but I had no trouble with it; I’m used to taking a lot.

When I wrapped my hand around his cock, I understood what was coming. It was veined, thick, the head glossy. I drooled at the thought of having it inside me, tearing me open from the inside. I took as much of it into my mouth as I could, building the rhythm, jerking him off while I sucked him. I didn’t stop. I needed him to fuck me as soon as possible, not for his pleasure, but for mine.

Break me, I thought. Break me already.

He grabbed me under the arms and hauled me upright. He took a condom from his trouser pocket, rolled it on in one motion, pressed my back against the glass again, and shoved my hips toward him to force me to tilt forward. He lined up the tip and drove in so hard that if he hadn’t been holding my hips, I would have fallen to the floor. He pulled out and slammed back in, yanking me with each thrust, giving me no respite, until I felt like my body was going to explode.

Then he started twisting my nipples. I saw stars. Without stopping his movement, he slapped my breasts with an open hand, up and down, as if he were driving pins into me. I came, screaming against his shoulder. He had to hold me up so I wouldn’t collapse to the floor. My legs wouldn’t respond.

***

He scooped me up and stood me on a high-backed chair. He made me lean against the backrest, with my back to him, and started licking my ass. Slowly, unhurriedly. He slid one finger into my pussy, pulled it out, and, using it as lubricant, pushed it into my ass. He worked it in circles until he was sure I wasn’t tensing up. Then he took me back to the glass wall, left my ass in the air, and started spanking me with his open hand. One cheek, then the other, alternating, measuring his force. When they were burning, he entered me from behind without warning.

It hurt and I liked it at the same time. He lifted me, pressing my whole body to the glass. We both knew that if anyone looked up from the street they’d see me there, exposed, with no doubt at all about what was going on. The idea made me even hotter.

I couldn’t take the pressure on my bladder. Just before the second orgasm, a little urine escaped me against the glass. He didn’t even flinch. He rammed into me hard, all the way in, over and over, to push me to the very top. I felt exhausted, my ass on fire, breathless, but he kept at it until my body answered again and I came. Only then did he pull out and sit me down on the chair in a rough way, my legs still shaking.

He took off the condom, came over to me holding his cock and told me to suck it. After all those orgasms, there was no way to refuse. I took him with both hands and put him in my mouth as deep as I could, jerking him in time. He’d been fucking me for half an hour and still hadn’t come. When he did, it was brutal. I let most of it spill from the corner of my lips so I wouldn’t choke. When he finished, I ran my tongue along the shaft to collect what was left and sucked him again slowly, now soft. When he pulled away, my jaw ached.

He pointed out where the bathroom was. I tidied myself up just enough so I wouldn’t come out smelling of sex and semen. He gave me time, no rushing. When I came out, he asked me to wait for him and went in himself. Two minutes later he came back, took my hand, and we went down to the street together. He gave me a quick kiss on the lips —it was the first time he’d kissed me all night— and told me it had been a pleasure fucking me.

I left with my ass sore, my pussy stinging, and my jaw numb, but satisfied and happy. Iván didn’t ask for my phone number, and I didn’t ask for his. There was no need. I knew exactly where to find him when I next felt like being split in two against a pane of glass.