What Two Boatmen Proposed to Us on the Beach

We spent the previous afternoon at Tere’s country house, the four of us together with Ingrid. It was one of those afternoons that cling to your skin: the pleasure of being back in our usual corner and, above all, the good fortune of sharing it with her, who had only been in the country for a few days and already had all of us in love with her.

Ingrid was Austrian, just passing through, and had that very particular way of laughing at everything without judging anything. When we left carrying the bags of everything we had bought, she was the one who insisted on spending the night at my house. The others said goodbye at the door, and the two of us went upstairs laughing like teenagers.

We showered together, playing with the spray, and ate the leftovers standing in the kitchen. I was exhausted, but she wasn’t sleepy. When I finally went to bed, I felt her enter the room and sit on the edge of the bed, her nightgown rolled up around her waist and her legs spread, pantyless, showing me a pink pussy already glistening—a wordless invitation that needed no explanation.

She has legs that drive me crazy. I stroked them from the knee upward, slowly, until I found the wet flesh between her thighs. I ran two fingers over her pussy lips, from bottom to top, and she let out a long sigh when I brushed her swollen clit. She was hot, even hotter than I was, because just remembering what I wanted to tell her was already bringing every image back to life in my head.

“Have you ever been to Austria?” she suddenly asked me, while kissing my neck and biting my earlobe. “Or why do you do so many things the way we do them there?”

“I’ve never been. I only knew one Austrian, years ago. One I adored, and whom I still adore a little. With him I did things I’d never dared to do before.”

“Tell me,” she urged, arranging two pillows behind my back so we would be at the same height. “I want to know what you felt. And what you still feel. Tell me how he fucked you.”

Where to begin. I told her that, to understand it, I first had to tell her about Andrés.

Andrés is my husband now, but back then we were only friends. Very close friends, the kind who tell each other everything and sometimes a little more. His company’s offices were a few floors above ours, in the same building, and we ate together almost every day at the same restaurant. First we talked about work; afterward, about everything else, including who each of us had fucked over the weekend, without filters.

One day visitors arrived from the parent company in Switzerland. Three young men, including a somewhat inexperienced Austrian. I went into the conference room offering coffee, and he asked me for a cappuccino. I held his gaze as mischievously as I could and brought it to him myself. When I handed it over, the others snickered; I didn’t understand the joke, but I did understand the way he looked at me: as if he were already undressing me, lingering on my tits and the curve of my ass when I turned around.

That same afternoon Andrés had arranged to meet him at his hotel. I worked up the nerve to go with him. The Austrian, whose name was Klaus, didn’t come down, so we went upstairs to look for him. The room door was ajar. Andrés pushed it open, and I got the surprise of my life: Carolina, his secretary, was riding Klaus completely naked, her tits bouncing and her mouth open, while he drove his cock all the way into her, gripping her hips. We could hear the wet slapping of her rising and falling, and the two of them’s broken moans.

We closed the door silently. I was furious, though I couldn’t have said why, even as my pussy throbbed with pure envy.

“She’s your secretary!” I reproached Andrés in the hallway.

“Leave her alone, she’s free to fuck whoever she wants,” he replied, amused. “Don’t be jealous.”

That turned me on even more, although I had never considered myself jealous. We went downstairs to wait at the bar. When Klaus appeared, recovered, the three of us had dinner, and drink by drink my anger faded. He looked at me differently, and I looked at him differently too: the image of his cock disappearing inside Carolina wouldn’t leave my mind and had my panties soaked beneath my dress.

Andrés asked him what he wanted to see in Mexico, and Klaus said somewhere without tourists, by the sea. I suggested Bahía Serena, a small port on the Pacific, and the next morning the three of us took a plane. Andrés had booked three rooms, one for each of us—“so everyone will be free to fuck,” he said, winking at me.

***

We spent the first afternoon on the beach. When we returned, I hung my wet bikini on the balcony overlooking the ocean, without bothering to get fully dressed. That was when I discovered a camera peeking over the wall separating my balcony from the one next door. I could only see the hands, but it didn’t take much thought: Klaus could only be on the other side.

I took a deep breath and decided to let him do it. I struck my best pose, pretending I hadn’t noticed, smiling at empty space. I untied my bikini and let the top fall. I caressed my tits slowly, pinching my nipples until they hardened, knowing he was taking pictures every second. If you want photos, I’ll give you photos. The next day I repeated the scene, this time with nothing covering me, and to finish it off I sat on the lounger with my legs spread and ran two fingers over my pussy until I pulled them out glistening with my own juices. I let him fill the roll of film.

That night, after dancing until late at a bar on the coast, Andrés retired early and left us alone. Klaus didn’t speak Spanish and I barely babbled in his language, but we understood each other perfectly through our hands and our eyes: I squeezed his bulge through his trousers in the elevator, feeling how hard he already was, and he thrust his tongue down my throat until the doors opened.

The next morning I went to his room on the pretext of telling him about breakfast. He was in his underwear, half covered by the sheet, his bulge outlined and his legs spread. I pulled my chair closer to the bed and, with Andrés translating before he left, confessed what I wanted. Andrés told him in English with a smile: that I wanted to fuck him senseless and didn’t know how to ask.

Klaus grabbed me by the nape and kissed me. I returned the kiss harder, biting his lip. When Andrés closed the door behind him, I was already at Klaus’s mercy and didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Ingrid, you can’t imagine how much fun I was having!” I told her, interrupting my own story. “Don’t fall asleep—the best part is coming.”

“I’m not falling asleep,” she murmured against my breast, sucking one of my nipples. “Keep going, please. But let me feel your legs.”

She tucked the two pillows beneath my thighs and lay down pressed against my side. She opened my thighs with one knee and wedged her leg against my pussy, pressing, while she continued sucking my tits and I talked. We were both burning up: my story aroused her, while her tongue and that firm thigh rubbing against my clit aroused me.

Klaus undressed me slowly, one garment at a time, taking his time. He sucked my nipples one by one, biting them just before letting go, then went down, licking my belly until he buried his face in my pussy. He licked me slowly, with his flat tongue, from bottom to top, then drove the tip into my clit until I began to tremble. He inserted two fingers and curled them forward while continuing to suck me, and I grabbed his hair, pushing his head against my pussy, screaming in Spanish he didn’t understand but loved anyway.

When he had me completely undone, he climbed on top of me. I grabbed his cock with my hand and was almost frightened by how hard and thick it was: pink, with a swollen vein and a wet tip. I guided it myself to my pussy’s entrance, and he pushed in with one thrust, all the way. He penetrated me firmly, but once inside he didn’t move: he kept caressing me, kissing every inch of me, asking over and over in his clumsy English if I liked having him inside me. I was coming apart from sheer desperation, feeling him enormous and still, squeezing him with my pussy muscles, raising my hips to fuck him myself if he wouldn’t, wanting to come but unable to quite manage it.

“Bitte,” I begged—the only word I remembered in German. “Fuck me, Klaus, fuck me now.”

Then he began, slowly at first, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in. The sound of our bodies colliding, of my soaked pussy sloshing as it swallowed his cock, filled the room. He brought me to the edge three times and stopped me three more, until I dug my nails into his back, begging for more.

Then he turned me facedown and put the pillows beneath my belly, lifting my hips and leaving my ass fully exposed. He kissed and licked me where no one ever had: his hot tongue climbing up my crack, circling my asshole and slowly sinking inside. I had never tried anal sex, and when I understood what he was after, I felt fear and desire in equal measure. I felt one wet finger pushing there, then two, opening me slowly.

He put on a condom. He gave me a gentle slap on the ass so I would relax and pushed with a patience that melted me. The tip of his cock forcing the ring open, gaining ground millimeter by millimeter. At first it burned like hell, and I let out a long moan when I finally gave way and felt him enter halfway. His hand slipped underneath me to my clit and began rubbing it in circles, and everything became one unbearable sensation of pain and pleasure mixed together. When he was fully inside, he stayed still, breathing against the nape of my neck, until I was the one who began moving my ass against him, asking him to fuck me there too. He began pumping my asshole with short thrusts, faster and faster, and I bit the pillow so I wouldn’t wake the whole hotel, coming with a convulsion that shot through me from top to bottom.

When I couldn’t take any more, he turned me over, removed the condom, and sat me on top of him, sinking into my pussy all the way. I took his cock, still stained, and put it back inside myself with both hands, trembling.

He lifted me by the hips and let me drop, setting the rhythm, until I understood that he wanted me to ride him. I began slowly, bracing my hands on his chest, and ended up frantic, moving fast, squeezing him with my pussy on every downward stroke, feeling him tense, my tits bouncing against his face. He sucked one nipple, bit the other, and put his thumb in my mouth for me to suck. Mad with pleasure, I sucked it as if it were his cock. I felt him grow even harder inside me and screamed for him to come, to fill me, and he did, shuddering for a long time, shooting his load inside my pussy with a hoarse moan. I had already come before him, so hard that my orgasm lasted through several more thrusts, feeling him throb each time he emptied himself. When he pulled out, his hot semen streamed down my thighs, and I smeared it with my hand and sucked my fingers in front of him.

We showered together, he soaping me with a tenderness I hadn’t expected, and afterward we fucked again standing up, my cheek against the tiles and his cock hard once more, entering me from behind. That’s how I met your countryman,” I told Ingrid, “and that’s how I fell a little bit in love with him forever.

***

“You’re leaving me hanging,” Ingrid protested, no longer hiding how badly she wanted it, her hand buried between her own thighs, rubbing her pussy in front of me. “I’m dying to see that place. But I have to leave tomorrow.”

I grabbed her hand and brought it to my mouth, sucking her fingers wet with her own juices.

“What if you don’t leave?” I blurted out. “I have three days off for the holiday weekend. Let’s go to Bahía Serena, just the two of us. And I promise I’ll make you come like never before we get on the plane.”

She sat up with a start, her eyes shining and her nipples stiff.

“Really? I’ll stay a few more days in your country and we’ll go. I’ll pay for the trip.”

I pushed her onto her back against the mattress and sank between her thighs without another thought. I opened her pussy lips with my thumbs and ran my whole tongue over her, slowly, savoring her. She was sweet and salty at once, and boiling hot. I sucked her clit until she began pulling my hair, then thrust three fingers all the way inside her, curling them, feeling that spongy spot that made her arch. She came in my mouth, screaming in German, squeezing my face against her pussy with both hands, and I didn’t let her go until she pushed me away, laughing because she couldn’t take any more.

We got a flight for the following noon. I arranged for Tere to cover for me at work, and so, half-crazy, we began our own adventure.

At the airport we became friends with a girl from a car-rental agency who, without our buying anything, found us a small, cheerful hotel run by a young, gorgeous couple: Raúl and Diana. We settled in, ate there, and went out for a walk.

At the pier I recognized Memo, the boatman who had taken me to the island with Klaus years earlier. He remembered me immediately and offered to take us across again. This time Beto accompanied him, a little older and just as shameless. They invited us up onto the boat’s roof to sunbathe without tan lines, and Ingrid thought it would be great fun to take everything off. The two men adjusted the bulges in their trousers without trying to hide it when they saw her get on all fours to climb up.

They anchored near the beach, cut the engine, and served us beers. You didn’t have to be very clever to understand that they had something in mind: they couldn’t take their eyes off Ingrid’s tits or her shaved pussy.

“Did the foreigner pay you last time?” Memo asked bluntly.

“No. He was a guest of the company, a photographer who wanted to photograph me, and I let him. And this is Ingrid, also foreign, also very horny, but she’s my friend.”

“And what are you looking for now?” Beto insisted, unable to take his eyes off Ingrid.

“Something that will leave us with a good memory of you two,” I told them. “Something fun. And… well, a couple of hard cocks that know how to be used.”

They both laughed and raised their glasses. We agreed to meet that very night.

***

That night, however, the fun began earlier than expected. Raúl and Diana invited us to dinner at the hotel restaurant, and between the tropical music and the drinks, the conversation grew heated. Ingrid, already loosened up, confessed that she wasn’t exactly a lesbian, but that every now and then she loved eating a woman’s pussy, and that was enough for the couple to want to find out just how far that “every now and then” went.

We went up to their room to continue the party. Diana approached Ingrid and kissed her without preamble; my friend arched against her as Diana slipped a hand under her blouse and pinched her nipples. She tore open Ingrid’s blouse, pulled her tits out of her bra, and bent down to suck them, while Ingrid opened Diana’s skirt and slipped her fingers between her thighs. They ended up on the floor, tangled together, kissing at length with both hands buried in each other’s pussies, and the unanimous verdict was that they were both perfectly suited for this.

I was standing with Raúl behind me, who had pushed up my skirt and was squeezing my ass with both hands, rubbing his already-hard cock over my panties.

“The problem,” Diana laughed, disheveled, her mouth glistening with Ingrid’s juices, “is that there are four of us and only one man.”

“I’ll solve it,” I said, and took off my clothes while she did the same.

We embraced in a sixty-nine on the bed, both of us enjoying ourselves at once. I opened her pussy with two fingers and drove my tongue inside, sucking her clit with my whole mouth, while she did the same to me. She licked me from top to bottom, from my clit to my asshole, stopping now and then to suck while she thrust three fingers all the way inside me. We bit each other’s thighs and pussy lips until we were both begging for more.

Then we shared Raúl. He had a reputation for being quick, so I mounted him first without letting him finish. I put him in my mouth before anything else, sucking him all the way, swallowing his cock until my eyes watered, while he moaned and held my hair. When he began to swell dangerously, I popped him out of my mouth and climbed on top, lowering myself onto his cock and stopping every time I felt he was about to explode. I handed him over to Diana for a while: she rode him facing backward, watching me, her clit exposed so Ingrid, lying between her legs, could suck it while he fucked her pussy from underneath.

I took him back a little later, getting on all fours on the bed, and asked Raúl to put it in me from behind. He drove his cock all the way into my pussy with one thrust and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back, while Ingrid slipped beneath me and sucked my clit as Diana kissed her. When I felt him about to explode, I handed him over to Ingrid, who climbed onto him backward, riding him while looking at us, her tits bouncing and her mouth open, coming with a scream in German unlike anything I had ever heard from her. I watched her pussy contract around Raúl’s cock, a little stream running down her thigh.

“Your turn, girlfriend,” Diana told me generously, still tasting Ingrid on her lips. “I always get this one.”

I took possession of Raúl and set out to give him the best ride of his life. I put him on his back and licked his cock from base to tip, drawing out drops of precum that I swallowed while looking at him. I straddled him and began to rise and fall slowly, squeezing my pussy on every downward stroke. I put my tits in his face so he could bite them. Diana sat on his mouth so he could eat her while I rode him, and the two of us kissed over him, biting each other’s tongues. I kept him hard for a long while, and when I finally felt satisfied, I let myself go, contracting my pussy in waves and making him come inside me with a moan that woke half the hotel, filling me until I felt his semen running down my thighs when I stood up.

Ingrid crouched down and licked what was dripping from me, savoring the mixture of us both.

***

The next day, after walking around and having lunch with Raúl and Diana, we returned to the hotel and found Memo and Beto waiting for us in reception. They had searched half the port for us to invite us out. Tired and all, we got dressed and went with them.

They took us by moto-taxi to a thatched-roof bar full of music and local people. We drank beer, danced pressed together—Beto squeezed my ass with both hands and slipped his tongue into my ear, while I felt his rock-hard cock against my belly—and, late that night, walked down to the seashore. Behind a mound, Beto spread tarps over the sand. We both knew perfectly well what they were for.

They undressed us amid laughter and beer. Beto had a thick, curved, dark cock, and Ingrid’s eyes went straight to it the moment she saw it. Memo’s was thinner but incredibly long, and he shook it in front of my face with a smile. I stopped Beto before he could rush, put him on his back, and gave him the same treatment I had given Raúl: I licked his balls one by one, filled my mouth with his cock, and sucked it slowly, my tongue curling around it, bringing him to the edge again and again and letting him go just before he came. When the tip began to swell, I squeezed the base with my fingers and pulled it from my mouth.

Ingrid copied me with Memo, kneeling beside me and sucking him with a devotion that heated me just to watch. Saliva dripped down her chin. Every now and then we looked at each other and laughed, and one of us passed her man’s cock into the other’s mouth so we could taste them both. When we finally took pity on them, I mounted Beto on the sand, face-to-face, sinking down onto his curved cock and rocking slowly. I felt that curve rubbing exactly against my inner sweet spot, and I screamed when I came for the first time with him still hard inside me. A few minutes later I turned around and rode him backward, my hands in the sand, while Ingrid beside me let Memo fuck her on all fours, his hands gripping her hips as he drove his long cock all the way in with hard thrusts.

We switched again. They passed Memo to me, and she stayed with Beto. I lay down on the tarp with my legs spread, and Memo sank on top of me, fucking me slowly but deeply with that cock that seemed never to end. Beside us, Ingrid moaned on all fours while Beto slapped her and dragged his curved cock over her pussy. We made them both last, long and wet, until they collapsed exhausted onto the sand, Memo emptying himself in hot spurts over my belly and Beto coming inside Ingrid with an animal growl.

When we were covered in sand, our legs still trembling and semen running down us, the four of us went into the sea naked. The warm water washed my stained thighs, and I felt Memo’s hands closing around my tits again beneath the surface. After a while, other couples from the area joined us, imitating us, and the night became a game of bodies brushing against one another in the warm water, with no commitment beyond the pleasure of the moment. Someone slipped fingers into me from behind before I could see who it was, and I let them, laughing, biting Ingrid’s shoulder while a stranger kissed her.

On the way back to the hotel, Ingrid was quiet and thoughtful. Raúl and Diana were still at reception, and they asked us how it had gone. She looked at them, then at me, and finally spoke.

“What a marvelous country this is,” she said, still breathless, her hair full of sand and her cheeks flushed. “People who genuinely want to join with you, even if only for a while, without commitment and without jealousy. I love this place. And I love you, whatever you are: lesbian, bisexual, or whatever you want to call it.”

I kissed her slowly, right there in front of the smiling couple, slipping my hand under her skirt and feeling how wet and hot her pussy still was.

“You come here with a clear mind, to meditate,” she laughed softly against my mouth, “and end up with two cocks and a woman’s pussy in the same night. Blessed Mexico.”