Secretly Licking the Receptionist Behind Her Counter and Fisting

by Kathrin

Copyright© 2017 by Kathrin

Erotica Sex Story: Secretly licking the receptionist behind her counter and fisting at the beach

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Reluctant   Lesbian   Fiction   Anal Sex   Fisting   Water Sports   .

The next day, when we were going out to the beach, Giulia was again tending the reception desk. She smiled shyly as she watched us approach her. Martina was wearing a Bikini that looked three sizes too small for her, barely covering her nipples and pelvis, and showing dark pubes all around the sides of her bikini bottom. Over that, just to cover it up slightly, she wore a loose blouse that she knotted under her wide breasts, and some really short jean shorts. I was in my orange and black swimsuit that gave my body a nice round hourglass shape and wore some camo baggy pants and a yellow jeans vest over it. We both looked as tourist-y as we could get.

I leaned across the receptionist’s desk and smiled. “So,” I said to Giulia, “which is the best way to the beach?” She smiled back and went through some leaflets, pulling up one with a small tourist map on it.

She pointed: “This is the closest beach from here,” she said.

I nodded. “And which is the naughtiest one?” I asked.

She looked into my eyes, blushing again. Meanwhile, Martina had snuck behind her counter and crawled underneath it, as we had planned earlier. I almost laughed at the surprised expression in Giulia’s face when Martina began playing with her crotch, probably opening her pants. “I ... uh ... there ... uh ... there is a n-n-n-nudist beach h-h-h-here,” she stammered, pointing at another portion of the map.

I nodded and folded the map, smiling. “Thank you,” I said, and walked a little to the side, waiting for Martina to finish.

I found a good vantage point from where I could see what was going on behind the desk. Martina knelt behind the receptionist and had indeed already pulled down her pants. Giulia tried her best not to show any signs of it, but she pushed her butt slightly back against my girlfriend, who in turn buried her face between her buttocks and licked her deep.

I giggled when a pair of elderly tourists entered the lobby, approaching the reception. I could not hear what they said, but Giulia was frozen in place, trying not to move and control her expression, while Martina clearly began fingering her puckered anus, still sucking her. After what seemed like an eternity the tourists finally took their keycards and left, and Giulia breathed deeply and heavily.

I looked around, and in an instant slipped behind the desk as well, crawling up to Martina. I kissed her when I arrived, tasting Guilia’s juices on her mouth. “MMmh, you gotta pee again?” I asked quietly to the squirming receptionist.

She gasped, then whispered almost inaudibly: “Yes...” I moved to her front, spotting the familiar patch of pubic hair again, this time covered by a different, but still sheer see-through thong.

“So go ahead,” I said. “Do it.”

She swallowed hard. “I can’t,” she hissed, still squirming from Martina’s finger inside her.

I grinned, though she couldn’t see me. “We won’t let go until you do,” I said, slapping her pelvis in affirmation. She sighed deeply, then let herself go. A thin stream of pee trickled through her panties and ran down her legs. I licked at some of it, tasting her harsh, salty taste.

I enjoyed watching her wet herself, as it stained her pants when it hit the ground. I collected some of it in my hand and rubbed it on my tits, then stood up. She looked at me embarrassed, but glad the lobby was empty at the moment. I slapped her butt and helped Martina up. “Just something to remember us by,” I whispered and kissed her gently, then walked out with my girlfriend by my side.

We took a cab to the beach and walked barefoot through the warm sand for a while, passing loads and loads of tourists on the way. The longer we walked, the more deserted the place and the rockier the beach became. On our side rose some beautiful cliffs, overgrown with olive trees that gave the scenery a peaceful and deserted feeling, and finally, Martina took off her blouse and bikini bra, enjoying the sun on her large breasts as they bounced when she walked. I smiled, watching her, not getting undressed myself as I didn’t want to risk a sunburn.

After about 30 minutes walking, the beach became mainly pebbles, with only a few short strips of sand in between. I looked around and the really crowded beaches were behind us, the people only small figures in the distance. In the other direction, close to the cliffs, a small group of people were running into the water. I got tired of walking and headed for a nice secluded patch of sand surrounded by some shrubs, where I dropped my bag and moaned. “God, I don’t want to walk anymore!” Martina laughed and sat down besides me, laying back in the warm sand.

I began stripping off my clothes and swimsuit, applying plenty of sun block along with it. Even though I tried to be careful about my skin, I could already feel it getting burnt and red in places. Martina rolled over to me and helped me put some lotion on my back. “Poor girl,” she said. “You burn easy.”

I shrugged. “It’s part of being a redhead,” I said, enjoying her hands on my skin and feeling her breasts rub against my back. I stripped the rest of my clothes off and lay down into the sand, naked and free, the warm sun and gentle breeze blowing across my body. Martina lay her arm around me and caressed me gently, playing a little with my breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said, and I smiled at her.

“Thanks,” I replied. “So are you.” She pushed her pants off and we lay naked side by side, dark and light, red and black, our bodies shiny in the heat from sweat and lotion. I rolled over on top of her, resting my breasts against hers, feeling them press big and heavy on my chest while my pubic hair tickled against hers. I smiled down at her, looking into her eyes: “You need some lotion too?”

She shook her head: “Nah, I tan easily.” She grinned. “All my skin needs is sun and you.”

I grinned back. “Well, you got me all over you.”

She moaned, beaming for lust again. “Mmmmh, and I want you IN me too,” she said. “Anything you can give me, I want you on me, over me, in me, using me, filling me, soaking me, making me yours. I am yours Kat, you know that?”

I nodded, kissing her softly. “I know,” I said, sitting back up as I began caressing her beautiful tits with my hands.

“Oh god, yes, goddess, use me as you please,” she moaned.

I leaned backwards, spreading my legs opposite of hers. “Then open your legs, slut,” I said calmly, “and let me cover you in my lotion.”

Martina spread her legs further apart and reached down between them, pulling her labia wide open for me. “Oh yes, mistress,” she whispered, “bathe your slave Martina in your hot pussy spring.” I smiled and grasped for my water bottle, drinking it thirstily as I pushed my hips down towards hers, shooting a thick spray of piss into her pussy, then all across her pelvis and belly, up to her tits. She moaned and rubbed it in as I drank and emptied my bladder simultaneously.

Then I lay down again besides her and began kissing her, licking her skin, tasting my pee, her sweat, her sweet taste. I buried my face besides her neck, nibbling her earlobe, feeling her squirm and twitch, going down into her armpit and licking her there, tasting her sweaty hair. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement nearby, and when I looked up, a girl was standing by the bushes, staring at us. She looked about 20 years old, very thin, with blonde hair to her chin, blue eyes and a slender, athletic figure. She was wearing a swimmer’s bikini and trunks and her figure was lithe, slender and petite, her breasts were practically non-existent and she was lost in thought, gazing at us.

“Hey,” I said, waving at her.

She shrieked, but made no attempts to hide, and finally waved back. Looking nervously around, she finally stepped forward towards us. “I’m sorry,” she said, with a clear, bright voice in the local dialect. “I just saw you from afar, and ... I shouldn’t have stared. I just never saw two women...” She hesitated.

I smiled. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Bianca,” she replied.

“I’m Kathrin, and this is Martina,” I replied, “we’re on vacation. Are you from around here?”

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