What My Girlfriend Did at the Shared Hostel

The idea had been circling in my head for several weeks, and in the end I booked a weekend in Lloret de Mar. But not in a hotel. I booked a crappy hostel, the kind with bunk beds, lockers, and shared rooms. I wanted to see Marina swaying in front of fifteen strangers.

I didn’t tell her anything until we parked. She knew the trip plan included parading her ass along the beach; that had already been agreed. But I kept the accommodation to myself as a surprise.

When she read the sign at the entrance, she raised an eyebrow and snorted.

—Adrián, you’re filthy.

—Me? I’m a saint.

—Yeah… Seriously, a hostel?

—It was cheaper. End of story.

She gave a crooked smile, that smile of hers that means she’s pissed off and turned on at the same time, and we carried our backpacks inside.

The room was huge. It was U-shaped: as soon as you walked in there was a corridor to the right, and another one a few meters ahead. I counted fifteen bunk beds, almost all of them occupied. The crowd was varied: a couple of Dutch guys right across from us, four Frenchmen at the back of the first corridor, two Germans already asleep, a couple of Spaniards, and a group of three girls who’d be around thirty and seemed to feel out of place.

It was a quarter to eleven. We’d eaten on the way and were tired, but the moment we crossed the door my sleepiness vanished. I put our things on the bottom bunk in the back corridor, right at the front, so I had a direct view of the exit. I wanted to watch Marina strut and have the others eat her up with their eyes.

The Frenchmen had already clocked her. Four guys in their early twenties, two of them not even trying to hide it. I nudged Marina.

—You’ve got two fans.

—Already? But I haven’t even undressed.

—Try to understand them. French girls are sticks. The second they see two big tits and a good ass, their brains short-circuit.

—Well, I’m going to shower. Let’s see how they handle that.

She pulled from her backpack the short T-shirt she wears when it’s not too hot, the one that barely covers her navel and was probably bought because she couldn’t just go out in a bra. She took out her flip-flops, a towel just for her hair, and stood up. She yanked off her dress in one motion and stayed with her back to the room, in a thong, for the two or three longest seconds I remember.

The Frenchmen all turned at once. They started whispering without even trying to hide it, eyes fixed on her huge round ass and the black string disappearing between her cheeks. Marina, pretending not to care, bent over inside her suitcase to look for anything she actually didn’t need. The short T-shirt rode up to the middle of her back. Even the Dutch guys stopped talking to look.

—The Frenchies are going crazy —I whispered to her—. And the Dutch too.

—Let them take pictures. Pictures last longer.

And they were already doing it. One of the Frenchmen had pulled out his phone without bothering to hide it too much. Marina stood back up, gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, and headed for the door, swaying her ass slower than necessary. My hand clamped over my crotch over my pants without me telling it to.

One of the Dutchmen, the tallest one, waited exactly thirty seconds and grabbed his towel and flip-flops too. I watched him follow her out with a face that said he wasn’t doing anything suspicious.

I almost dropped to the floor when, twenty minutes later, I saw Marina come back in wearing only the thong, towel on her head, and flip-flops. Nothing else.

The room went silent. The Frenchmen sat up in their bunks as if they’d been electrocuted. Her big tits bounced with every step, round and firm, and the thong was barely a black shadow between two asses that seemed to go on forever. From the back I heard a “holy shit” in Spanish. The Frenchmen pulled out their phones again and one of them straight-up filmed her as she walked toward our bunk. “Putain, putain,” they kept repeating nonstop.

Marina arrived, took her time putting the short T-shirt back on, sat down beside me, and crossed her legs like she’d just come back from buying the paper.

—You’re such a slut —I whispered.

—You’re the one who brings me places to show me off.

—And you’re damn good at it.

—You boys are so simple. You see two tits and an ass and your brain turns off.

—I won’t deny that. Hey, did you know that tall Dutch guy went to the shower right behind you?

—I know. And he went into the girls’ showers.

I raised my eyebrows.

—Seriously?

—Yeah. And… I was a bit naughty.

She lowered her voice until it became a thread and told me everything, slowly, while I tried not to let my erection show over my shorts.

The Dutchman —Bram, she’d gotten his name— had gone into the women’s bathroom and taken the shower next to hers. At first he pretended not to look. Marina, who’s a bitch when she wants to be, had been staring at his cock without shame. And when a woman like her looks at your dick, it gets hard. There’s no turning back.

—The bastard’s got a massive cock —she murmured—. Almost as big as yours. Impossible not to look.

Bram lost all his modesty within minutes. He asked where she was from, how long she was staying, whether I was her boyfriend, all while turning toward her so she could see his cock rise with every answer. Then he started in with the compliments: that she had an incredible body, that she was insanely hot, that he’d never seen tits like that in his life.

—You know compliments turn me on —she told me—. And he wasn’t bad-looking, honestly.

The Dutchman got bolder because he saw Marina wasn’t taking her eyes off his erection. He asked if she wanted him to soap her back. She said yes.

—He came up behind me —she went on— and rammed his rock-hard cock between my cheeks while he was rubbing soap over my back.

She said it almost breathlessly. According to her, his hands had gone up to her tits without permission. One of them had gone down to her cunt. He was kissing her neck.

—And that’s where I stopped him. I told him now it was my turn.

She started soaping him slowly while Bram’s erection pointed straight at her. She ran her hand over his chest, his arms, his legs, his balls, everything except the one thing he actually wanted her to touch.

—I tortured him for a good while. Then I turned off the shower and pretended I was leaving.

—You little cunt.

—Yeah —she laughed—. But then I went back. I soaped his cock up properly and started jerking him off. Properly. And when he was almost there, I got on my knees and gave him a Cuban.

I looked at her tits, barely covered by the short T-shirt, trying to imagine the scene.

—He let out a load that splashed all over me, Adrián. I had to shower again.

My cock was about to burst through my shorts. Marina noticed and gave me that bitchy smile of hers, the one that knows exactly what effect she has on me.

—When the lights go out, I’ll suck you off —she murmured.

—You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.

Bram came back to the room five minutes later wearing a grin that split his face in two. He greeted our bunk like he’d known us forever. He lay down next to his roommate and started saying something in Dutch without taking his eyes off Marina. You didn’t need to speak the language to understand the summary.

They turned the lights off. Marina lay between the wall and me, kissed me on the shoulder, and fell asleep. It took me another half hour. My head was too worked up to close my eyes.

***

I dreamed of showers and tiles and Marina against the wall. What woke me was her hand closing around my cock, which was already hanging out of my underwear. I have no idea how long it had been like that. I also don’t know how she managed to get it out without waking me.

—Jeez, you’re hard as a rock —she whispered.

—Then suck me off. You were the one who wanted more.

She settled at the end of the bed, her ass cocked up toward the corridor, and took it into her mouth. She was completely naked. The thong had disappeared at some point during the night.

Streetlight came in through the windows and left the room in a grayish half-light, enough to make out the shapes of the beds. I looked around. The Frenchmen were asleep. The Germans too. I checked Bram’s bunk just in case.

He wasn’t asleep.

Bram had his eyes open and his hand inside his underwear. I saw him move his arm slowly, without hiding it, eyes locked on Marina’s ass, which at that moment rose as she sucked the tip of my cock and then went down as far as she could.

The sensation hit me at the base of my spine. My girlfriend sucking me off like an expert, naked, in a room with fifteen strangers asleep, while one of them —the same guy who’d come in her mouth two hours earlier— was masturbating as he watched her from his bunk.

—Marina, look what’s on your right —I whispered, gently gripping her hair.

She lifted her eyes to me without taking my dick out of her mouth. She turned her head a degree and spotted Bram. She didn’t stop sucking. If anything, she did it harder. Saliva ran down her chin.

I dug my fingers into her hair and started moving my hips with her. She moaned softly, barely a whisper, enough to make the skin on my neck prickle.

I held out as long as I could. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I held her head and blasted several spurts straight down her throat. Marina swallowed without stopping, making sure she didn’t miss a drop, licking me all the way to the base.

—Look at your friend, keep going —I murmured in her ear when she came back up.

—How long has he been at it?

—Pretty much from the start.

She was quiet for a moment. Bit her lip.

—Don’t be mean. Suck him off too, poor thing.

—You’re such a slut.

But she was already getting out of the bed.

She crossed the aisle naked, her tits bouncing with every silent step. Bram went very still when he saw her come closer. Marina didn’t say a word. She stood at the foot of his bunk, pushed his hand away, and took his cock into her mouth exactly the way she’d taken mine.

The sight was unreal. Her big round ass aimed at me, stuck up in the air, while her tits swayed with the movement of her right arm, which went up and down on the base of Bram’s shaft. I started jerking myself off slowly, trying not to make a sound.

Bram’s mouth was open and his eyes were rolled back. I’m sure no one had ever given him a blowjob like that. Marina worked him with hollowed cheeks, nonstop, glancing at me every few seconds to make sure I was still watching.

There was barely any sound. Just the mattress creaking whenever she pressed down hard and the Dutchman’s ragged breathing. The rest of the room remained sunk in a deep, absurd silence, as if the only reality were that corner.

Bram came without making a single sound. I saw it on his face before I knew it: he closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let out a long sigh that never even became a sound. Marina slowed the rhythm and let him empty himself completely, never taking his cock out of her mouth, licking away the last trace.

When she decided he was clean, she sat up, picked up the toothbrush and toothpaste from her toiletry bag without looking at anyone, and went to the bathroom just as she was: completely naked, tits daring anyone who looked at her, ass inviting anyone to follow her.

I followed her.

The shared bathroom was empty. Marina was brushing her teeth at one of the sinks in the back. I closed the door behind me.

—You’re a slut —I told her in her ear, without any heat, almost like stating a fact.

—I know.

—And I’m going to fuck you like one.

I pulled it out and shoved it into her in one thrust while she still had the toothbrush in her mouth. Her cunt was soaked, burning, completely open. I grabbed her tits and started driving into her against the sink. I saw her in the mirror: the toothbrush still in her left hand, eyes closed, mouth open, both big tits bouncing with every thrust.

I yanked her head back by the hair.

—Cocksucking bitch.

—Aah, yes…

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the empty bathroom. I slapped her right ass cheek and saw my fingers marked into her skin for half a second. I hit her again. I didn’t care. She was a slut and deserved nothing less for getting Dutchmen hot in the showers.

My thrusts were deep, all the way to the hilt, as if I wanted to split her in two. She moaned with my hand over her mouth and clutched the sink with white knuckles. Without warning, before I saw it coming, she came. Her orgasm clenched her cunt so hard it dragged me with it. I let go of her hair, squeezed one tit with one hand, covered her mouth with the other, and emptied everything I had left inside her while still driving into her properly hard.

She stayed leaning over the sink for a few seconds, catching her breath, my semen dripping down the inside of her thigh. Then she smiled at the mirror, found my eyes, and stepped under the shower without saying a word.

When we went back to the room, Bram was sound asleep. So were the Frenchmen. Marina curled up against the wall, pulled the sheet over herself, and fell asleep within minutes. It took me a little longer, but eventually I went under. I went down like a log, my head full of images that weren’t going to fade anytime soon.