Spanish Bull

The last person I wanted to find us on the beach was Franco. This time the thong was black. He had a friend with him, shorter, slender, hair dyed blonde and crew cut, a double barbed wire tattoo around his ankle.

"Hey, how are you?" Franco greeted us, like a long lost friends. "Naked again! Isn't she too much!"

Sarah smiled.

"So,.." Franco said to me. "You like her hair? It took for ages, but I think it's worth it. Don't you? I hope you didn't mind that Chico and I took her to a restaurant afterwards. Hey Chico, come over. Here, this is my boyfriend, Chico."

He gestured to the dyed blonde guy who moved beside him.

"Hi, Chico," I said, my brain rapidly rearranging my assumptions about what had happened the night before.

The dress, the dinner date, the size of his cock, the taste preference, had all been part of one enormous wind up, Sarah's punishment for my stupidity.

I remembered the late night hairdressers, and that when Sarah had had her hair highlighted in the past, it had taken several hours. They must have eaten late.

And Sarah might or might not be pregnant, but if she was the child was mine. Spanish semen had been nowhere near her.

Franco and Chico hung around for nearly fifteen minutes. Franco did most of the talking, enthusing about Sarah's hair, and about her daring to be naked on the beach, wishing that he could do the same, except that as a guy he would certain to be arrested, although that could be fun. He did like men in uniforms.

When they left, I gave Sarah a look.

"You deserved it," she said.

"You deserved what you got too."

"Maybe I enjoyed it."

"I don't think there's any maybe. And you can expect more of the same."

"That's nice," she grinned.

We both lay silent, our relationship restored.

Then Sarah asked the fateful question.

"Did you really think I'd sleep with someone else?"

"Yes." I said. "And you wanted me to think that."

"Risk getting pregnant?"

"You wanted me to think that too."

"Is that why you fucked me the way you did?"

"Yes," I said again.

She gave me her wonderful mischievous grin.

"If that's the effect it has on you, maybe I should really let another guy take me home to bed. Once we're back in London."

She turned her head away from me, resting it in the crook of her arm.

I could feel myself begin to harden.

I got up.

As I said, I like petite. You can pick petite up and carry her over your shoulder.

I walked with Sarah over my right shoulder, legs dangling in front, bare buttocks level with my face, ignoring the looks from everyone else on the beach. I reached the water's edge, where it was lapping on the sand, and waded in until the water was around my thighs. Sarah was struggling a using her arms, pushing from my buttocks, keeping her torso as high as possible, keeping her head from the water.

I lifted her off my shoulder, held her sideways across my body, arms beneath her back and thighs, and threw.

The splash she made as she hit the water was so beautiful.