The Game the German Set Up at the Nude Beach

Renata had spent fifteen years turning other people’s money into more money, and for the first time none of it mattered to her. At the fund manager where she worked, they considered her a visionary: the woman who could smell a trend before it existed, the one the big European funds competed for with checkbooks in hand. Mauricio, her boss, juggled to keep her. And she, who at her best had never once thought of leaving, now just wanted to throw it all up and get off the ship.

The only thing still pulling her out of her stupor was Daniel’s gift. A strange card, a logo that sounded familiar from somewhere, a promise with no explanation. Sometimes she thought it was all a lie, an excuse to keep her mind occupied and away from the cliff edge.

—Don’t take a leave of absence —Mauricio had told her—. Take whatever days you need. And if you don’t want to fully switch off, come by on Monday for the meeting with the fund that wants into tech.

—All right, I’ll take you up on that —she agreed, with not much enthusiasm.

The fund manager occupied the sixteenth floor of one of the most expensive towers in Málaga, with views of the harbor and the open sea. Renata arrived at the meeting late for the first time in her life, freshly out of a beauty salon, hair straightened and skin still warm from the spa. She blushed as she walked in: she wasn’t used to being the last one there.

The foreign fund’s team was waiting for her in the glass-walled room. It was led by Lukas, the director: German, in his early fifties, almost two meters tall, athletic build, and white hair that gave him a dignified air. Renata noticed his masculinity immediately, even though he displayed it with a discretion that was almost insulting. With him were Iván, a Russian with a thug’s face and exquisite manners; Sven and Pieter, two tall, lean blond men; and Marco, the youngest, a Spaniard barely twenty-two. Bringing up the rear was Brenda, the executive secretary, English, blonde, attractive, and disarmingly charming.

Renata laid out the region’s prospects with her usual cold precision, but something had changed. Every time she looked up, someone on the team was watching her closely. Politely. Subtly. They handle too much money to care whether a woman is pretty, she told herself, not quite believing it.

—Renata, how full is your schedule these days? —Mauricio asked as the meeting wrapped up—. Our friends are staying on to do some sightseeing. I’d love it if you’d show them around.

—Of course, I’ll put together an itinerary of visits…

—Don’t worry —Lukas cut in, with a slow smile—. With your permission, we’ll be the ones organizing you. Dinners, culture and, of course, a proper beach. Sound good?

—Uh… yes, all right —she replied, thrown off balance. Usually she was the one holding the reins in these situations. That man, in a single sentence, had taken them right out of her hands.

—Then that’s settled —Mauricio said—. Renata, give them your mobile number and you’re excused from setting foot in the office. Throw yourself into whatever they need —and he emphasized that “whatever” with a look.

***

She had nothing to wear. Eight years without going out had left her wardrobe full of suits and empty of nights. She had to call Carla, the only friend she trusted, to drag her through the shops downtown and help her use a card the way she hadn’t in ages.

For the first dinner only Lukas and Brenda turned up. The rest of the team had “met people” and had their own plans. They ate in an intimate restaurant, talked, laughed. Renata found herself strangely comfortable, until Lukas stood up, slipped on his jacket with exasperating elegance, and announced that he was exhausted.

—You’re young, enjoy the night. My treat, and I won’t take no for an answer.

While he was saying goodbye, a hand emerged from between the tables, snatched Renata’s phone, and disappeared running. The two women froze just long enough for the thief to vanish. The one who didn’t waste a second was Lukas, who went after him and came back minutes later grinning from ear to ear, the phone in his hand.

—How did you do that? —Renata asked.

—Better not ask —Brenda laughed—. He’s a wizard at that sort of thing. Pity the fool who catches him.

The phone was intact. Only Renata didn’t remember turning it off. I’m switching off too much, she thought, and let the detail go.

***

With the champagne Lukas had left paid for, the two women went out to drink the night away. They ended up on a terrace by the promenade, dancing the way Renata hadn’t danced in years and, above all, talking. She needed to unburden herself, and Brenda turned out to be the perfect listener.

She told her the last eight years. Her friends’ betrayal. The block. The feeling of not knowing where her life was headed. And, somewhere in the confession, she admitted that she didn’t even feel like touching herself anymore, she who as a young woman had been a master at it, the kind who could shove two fingers in to the knuckle and make herself come three times in a row without slowing down.

Brenda stroked her leg while she listened, slowly, unhurriedly. Her fingers crept up the inside of Renata’s thigh with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times, and Renata’s stomach tightened every time they neared the hem of her dress.

—That needs fixing —she murmured—. Your body is at its best right now. If your head doesn’t keep up, your body ends up making you pay for it. A cunt that doesn’t get wet dries out, honey. And yours… look at it, I can see it throbbing even from here.

Then she told her own story. As a teenager she hated sex: she only studied, only competed, and every day she was more alone. Everything changed in her first job, at a multinational. A trip to Hamburg, a meeting where her boss expected a lot from her. Renata listened without blinking.

—When I was gathering up the presentation, he came up behind me —Brenda said, in a lower voice—. He pushed my hair aside and kissed my neck. It was so gentle it took me apart. “You just brought in twenty-five million on your own,” he whispered in my ear. And while he was saying it, he hiked my skirt up to my waist and ripped my panties off in one tug. I still keep them, torn.

At barely twenty, Brenda was still a virgin. That man found out when he slid two fingers inside her and felt the resistance, and far from pulling away, he just went slower. He laid her out on the boardroom table, removed her suit piece by piece, and spent half an hour with his mouth between her thighs before she truly opened up. He ate her cunt like a man starving, licked her lips one by one, drove his tongue into her clit until she screamed, and when she could take no more, he pried her open with two fingers and licked her from within with pornographic slowness. Brenda came twice on his face before he took his cock out.

—When I saw it, I nearly had a fit —she whispered—. It was thick, curved upward, with a purple tip and a throbbing vein. He put it to my lips and told me to suck it. I didn’t know how, but he guided me: “Open your mouth, stick out your tongue, like this, wet the whole thing.” I sucked him as best I could, tears in my eyes from the effort, and he was stroking my hair, so tender, while he fucked my mouth little by little.

When he finally penetrated her, he did it millimeter by millimeter. Renata had her legs clenched under the table. He pushed the head in first, waited for her to get used to it, then kept pressing until he tore her hymen with a sharp tug that drew a muffled cry from Brenda. Then he fucked her slowly, feeling every centimeter go in and out, until her blood and her juices soaked his balls. When he came, he did it inside her, and they stayed wrapped around each other for a good while without speaking, his semen dripping down Brenda’s thighs.

—That’s when I discovered I like fluids —Brenda said, her hand still moving up Renata’s leg, now brushing the elastic of her panties—. Theirs and ours. Hot come running down inside you. Wet cunts. Saliva. All of it. That day I became his right hand. And I fucked half the company, him first, whenever he wanted.

Renata realized too late how far that hand had gone. Brenda’s fingers were stroking her over the fabric, and she could feel perfectly how wet she was becoming. She looked up and saw that in the nearby tables more than one diner was staring openly at them, men and women alike, some with their glasses halfway to their mouths. She straightened up at once, burning with shame, her soaked panties stuck to her cunt.

—I’ve embarrassed you —Brenda said, amused, while Renata paid.

—No… not at all. But…

—Don’t worry. Tomorrow’s another day. Feel like breaking the ice? I’ve heard very good things about a nudist cove.

Renata was still so off-balance that she said yes without thinking, she who had never even gone topless in her life.

***

She arrived at the cove on edge. It was June and midweek; the pebble beach was almost empty. She laid out her towel, took off her sarong, and, eyes closed, removed the top of her bikini. The Mediterranean breeze brushed her breasts like a velvet caress. She smoothed on sunscreen slowly, turning over the surreal situation she was living through, when her phone rang.

—Renata, it’s Brenda. Bad news: something’s come up and I have to stay at the hotel. I won’t be able to make it. Enjoy the morning, I’ll make it up to you.

Dumped again. What am I doing here half naked? she thought, as a tear escaped her without permission.

Ten minutes later, the solitude was broken by four German tourists in their twenties, who soon plunked their towels down a few meters from hers. Renata played dumb, as if she didn’t understand the language, even though she knew it perfectly. And then she heard what they were saying about her: what a backside, she was probably some prude who hadn’t realized where she was, she was dying for them to rip off her last garment with a slap and fuck her on the pebbles until she screamed in three languages. One of them said he’d shove his cock up her ass dry and another laughed, saying he’d love to see her sucking all four cocks at once, kneeling on the shore. She was about to turn around and give them a piece of her mind. But something in her, exhausted from always being the one in control, preferred to wait and see how far they’d go. And, very deep down, she was surprised to feel her cunt dampen at the sound of those filthy remarks.

The plan backfired. Two girls showed up, the Germans lost interest instantly, and they all went into the water together laughing. Renata watched the scene like someone watching her own life sink: always one step behind, always too late. She turned over on the towel and didn’t even bother taking off the last piece she had on.

Suddenly, an eclipse blocked the sun from her freckled redheaded face. She opened her eyes and froze.

—Lukas? What are you doing here?

—I’ve got a house nearby and wanted to go for a swim —he answered, taking off his T-shirt and swim trunks and standing completely naked a hand’s breadth from her—. And you?

Renata couldn’t help looking. Lukas’s cock hung heavy between his thighs, thick even at rest, with large, tight balls, his skin evenly tanned all over. A tuft of white pubic hair, trimmed. Her mouth went dry.

—Well… I wanted to switch off, but I got stood up —she replied, without mentioning Brenda. Inside, something started to move. She admired the man, but she hadn’t expected to run into him there, and certainly not like that.

Lukas began rubbing sunscreen all over his body, pausing with deliberate slowness between his legs, as if he were stroking himself, half a meter from her face. His hand slid up and down his cock, spreading the cream as if he were masturbating in slow motion, and Renata could clearly see the member beginning to thicken, to swell, to rise little by little. She tried to look away and missed none of it. She swallowed.

—I’m going into the water. Will you put sunscreen on my back first? —he asked.

—Uh… yes, all right —she said, dazed. He had a broad back and skin burning hot. Renata felt as though she were climbing onto a cloud without brakes and had no idea how to handle the shift. As she slid her hands over his shoulder blades, his kidneys, his waist, she couldn’t help going a little farther than she should have, brushing the base of his ass. Lukas gave a pleased grunt that vibrated into her bare breasts pressed against his back.

He took her hand gently and led her to the water. He suggested she take off her panties, that she’d feel freer. She refused: it was her first topless, she was still embarrassed.

—You’re old enough to be embarrassed, honey —Lukas said—. You’ve got a gorgeous body; it’s meant to be shown off. And those tits are begging to be sucked.

Renata laughed nervously, not knowing what to say, and went into the water waist-deep so he wouldn’t see how hard her nipples had become, rigid as stones.

In the water they swam, talked, played like two teenagers. The waves rocked them and, every so often, their bodies brushed. Lukas’s sex, already half-erect, knocked against her ass with an insistence that made her knees go weak. Every time a wave brought them together, she felt that hot, hard mass sliding between her cheeks, pressing her panties’ elastic, and her cunt contracted without permission. In a moment of distraction, Renata climbed onto his back and hugged him, feeling for the first time in years that surge of arousal she had thought dead. She looped her legs around his waist and Lukas’s cock, now fully hard under the water, landed right against the cleft of her ass, pushing at the fabric. She held back. There was too much money at stake, and she was terrified he’d take her for some cheap slut.

But Lukas was a master. He suddenly ducked under the water and launched her forward; when she came back up, her panties were gone.

—No, Lukas, please, give them back. This isn’t a game.

—I don’t have them —he said, suppressing a laugh—. The sea must have swallowed them. You’ll have to dive for them; there isn’t much depth and the water’s crystal clear.

Flushed with embarrassment, Renata went diving like a madwoman until she found them: hooked on Lukas’s sex, now fully erect, pointing upward, thick as a doll’s forearm and with the main vein standing out. The tip, purple and swollen, poked from the foreskin. She stayed a few seconds staring at it underwater, hypnotized. She could stretch out her tongue and suck it right there. She surfaced red as a tomato, looking all around as if the cove were full of people watching her.

—Take them —he challenged her—. Or are you afraid of what you might find?

—Bastard —she muttered through clenched teeth, and grabbed his cock with her hand to unhook the fabric. Her palm filled with the hot vibration of his member, and she couldn’t help giving it a slow tug before letting go. Lukas groaned.

—Careful, honey, or this ends up in your mouth before you get a say.

The German had been timing the waves for a while. Just as she recovered the garment, a big one lifted her up and slammed her into the two-meter-tall man, who held her close so the undertow wouldn’t drag her away. Now she was pressed against him, skin to skin, her tits crushed against his chest and her hard nipples scraping his skin. She could feel his member throbbing against her pubic hair, free for the first time in the sea, pushing right on her clit. Lukas lowered his hands and grabbed her ass with both of them, opening her slowly under the water, and squeezed her cheeks while rubbing his cock up and down her cunt slit without quite putting it in. Renata moaned against his neck. He could have taken her right there, with the wave as accomplice, pushing in a couple of centimeters and burying himself to the hilt. He didn’t. He knew the real pleasure was in leaving her only the icing on the lips, the lips of the mouth and the other ones. He dragged the head over her entrance a couple of times, wetting it with her juices, then pulled back a centimeter.

—Not yet —he whispered in her ear—. Not yet.

The scene did not go unnoticed. The group of boys and girls still in the water were smiling and whispering. When Renata realized it, she wanted to die of shame and asked to get out, not before recovering her panties so she could make it to shore dressed.

***

Outside, they dried off and went back to the sunscreen. Renata lay on her stomach so she wouldn’t expose her breasts any more and let him rub lotion into her back with a massage that made her shiver. Lukas sat astride her thighs, his balls resting on the upper part of her ass, and began kneading her shoulders with both hands. He moved down her spine, over her kidneys, pausing in the hollow of her waist. His cock, still hard, left a wet mark between her cheeks whenever he leaned in. He didn’t need to slip his fingers under the fabric: he knew she was already close. He asked permission to move to the backs of her thighs, “because they’re very red,” and with a gentle motion he slid his fingers along the edge of her panties, a little inward, brushing her pussy lips on the outside. A moan escaped Renata that she couldn’t control. Lukas repeated the gesture, this time sliding his middle finger a centimeter farther in, until he found the wetness. He drew it out, brought it to his lips, and sucked it calmly, as if tasting a wine.

—Delicious —he murmured—. Much better than I imagined.

Renata sat up abruptly, embarrassed, feeling her cunt pulsing and her panties literally soaked to the elastic, and suggested they go get something to drink to cover up what had happened, as if no one had heard. The situation was overwhelming her. She was aroused, yes, so aroused she could barely keep her legs together without moaning, but if she screwed up with the German, Mauricio would kill her.

They packed up and headed toward the cars, parked beside a housing development so nobody would see Renata leave hers by the sand. What a coincidence: Lukas’s rental was right next to it. She got in first and went over to ask for directions. He leaned in through the window, still with the bulge visible in his swim trunks, a bulge that pushed obscenely between his legs and outlined the whole shape of his glans.

—Honey, why don’t we go to my place? It’s close. I want to treat you as you deserve for everything you’ve done these past few days. And I owe you an apology for the water.

The way he said it threw her off again. Outwardly she kept herself together; inside, she was lubricating obscenely, so much she could feel the flow running down the inside of her thigh to the seat. It had been eight years since her body had responded like this. Lukas had his head almost inside the car, a hand’s breadth from her face, and she was afraid he would smell what she was making between her legs.

—I didn’t know you liked driving around with your tits out —he said, with a half-smile—. You’ve really taken to topless.

—Jesus! —Renata put her hands to her chest. The sarong had slipped down when she got in, and she had crossed half the parking lot exposed without noticing, so absorbed had she been—. Sorry, I didn’t realize.

—You’re gorgeous, if I may say so. You have wonderful breasts —and he shot her a look full of desire, but held back from kissing them. Renata caught the intention. And worst of all was realizing that her brain would have wanted him to do it, to snatch her hand off the wheel and bury his mouth in one nipple until she screamed inside the car—. Follow me, we’ll be there in ten minutes.

As she drove behind him, Daniel’s gift came back to her. The card, the logo that rang a bell, the silence for days. Her mind, normally surgical, refused to focus, and that worried her. She decided that as soon as she was done with Lukas she would call Daniel to warn him that maybe they had scammed him; she loved him too much to let anyone take advantage of him.

Still, as she turned onto the path up to the villa with her heart pounding and her thighs wet, a suspicion began to cut through the fog. The phone turned off at dinner. Brenda standing her up that very morning. Lukas appearing at the only cove where nobody knew her. Too many coincidences for a woman who made her living eliminating chance. She parked in the garage without quite finishing the thought, and that was exactly the moment the game truly began.