Love and Betrayal Ch. 16

Paul's cousin Jono worked in finance in Munich and surprised him with invitation to stay for a long weekend. He seemed particularly keen that Becci came along. Paul conveyed the invitation, but warned her, "Jono is very charming and generous, but you should know it's largely because he considers generosity an aphrodisiac. He is simply a womaniser, and he'd fuck you given half a chance. He likes to target married women as much as young interns."

Becci looked momentarily confused, as Paul continued, "If we go, things might get frisky. He also has a reputation for taking clients to sex shows, strip joints and FKK clubs, and he'd probably love the chance to see your reaction if he invited us along."

Becci quickly reassured Paul, "Let's say yes; screw him for everything on offer. Besides, we have can have some fun, and you can leave him feeling jealous as hell!"

Paul messaged Jono to confirm, and a few weeks later they arrived. It was late morning and Jono met them briefly at lunch to welcome them and give them a set of keys for his apartment, before returning to work. They spent the rest of their first day sightseeing alone.

Over recent months Becci had become increasingly disinhibited, testing the boundaries of how provocatively she could behave with Paul in public. She was now in a city known for liberal attitudes to nudism and sexuality, and on foreign soil where they were unlikely to be recognised. The temptation to take things to the next level was irresistible.

She knew that time was short in the run up to the trip, and she had already thought of a few fantasies they could indulge in. She shared the best with Paul and established the ground rules in advance, "You decide what I have to do, but don't tell me until the last moment. I have to obey, no matter what."

Paul gave Becci twenty minutes notice to prepare for her first adventure before they left Jono's appartment. He followed her at a discrete distance as she walked through the Englischer Garten. Paul took up position on a bench along the main path, whilst she settled nearby. As she stripped slowly and seductively, approaching tourists were rewarded with a clear view of her petite, slender body.

In contrast to similar games at home, it was warm and sunny in the early afternoon. Becci was soon completely naked, save her AirPods through which Paul delivered his commands. Whilst Germans are more comfortable with nudism than many other nations, particularly the British, most of the people passing were curious foreign tourists. Participating women tended to favour the relative seclusion of the lower meadow; finding one as young and beautiful as Becci alone and so close to the path's edge was a rare gift.

Becci engaged in gentle exercises and yoga to interest the voyeurs. In between, she relaxed on her back with her eyes closed, sunbathing. When someone's gaze lingered on her, Paul whispered instructions into his phone, usually starting with, "Keep your eyes closed darling, still as if in a dream...", variably followed by, "Open your legs a little further...", "Slowly caress the side of your breast with your hand...", "Run your fingers over your nipple...", and even, "Slide your hand along your inner thigh, yes, a little further, let your fingertips glance your slit."

Occasionally, one or more people stopped for longer than a brief moment to admire the apparent sleeping beauty. Paul discretely instructed her to waken and react variably as if horrified or to welcome the attention, perhaps adjusting herself to give them a better view with a smile.

By late afternoon she had returned to yoga. There were audible gasps from a group of young Irish lads as she worked through the downward dog, wheel and half-moon poses, ensuring that her smooth pussy and bleached anus were perfectly displayed.

Paul finally walked over to Becci as another group approached. To all intents and purposes he appeared to be a stranger, introducing himself to her. Becci removed her AirPods and hung on his words, smiling and occasionally touching him. She gathered her things and linked his arm as they made their way to a semi-secluded stretch of the bank of the Eisbach River. There she began to undress him, playfully gasping at the sight of his hard cock. She teased a little precum from him and brought it to her lips, then took him into her mouth on her knees.

He soon dropped onto his back on the ground, and Becci immediately mounted him, sliding and gyrating up and down on his bulging purple cock in front of a growing audience on the far river bank. Branches rustled and cracked under foot nearby; they almost certainly had been followed.

Paul grabbed her little tits to use as fuck-handles, slamming her firmly down on him to hilt, the moist slap of flesh pounding flesh audible above the flowing water. It wasn't long before he erupted inside her. Nudism is allowed and even encouraged, but public sex in the afternoon is not. Paul dressed quickly and gave Becci permission to wear only her short summer dress and heels, before making a hasty tactical retreat.

That evening Paul's cousin had booked a private dining room in a posh restaurant. He had explained that there would be a few other guests, wealthy clients. "Tom has been divorced twice after being caught screwing other women, but now has a much younger fiancée. The other couple are in their forties and are self-confessed swingers." He smirked at Becci, "I imagine you'll cope just fine!"

As the evening progressed, Jono's guests seemed to be competing with each other as they discussed their sexual conquests and the erotic clubs they had visited. But it was also clear that personal wealth was paramount to their social status. Paul listened to their boasts and bore the odd snide remarks stoically, before interrupting to declare that he had something money couldn't buy; Becci.

The men seemed a little unsure how to respond as Paul beamed and proceeded to chide the obsession many women have with tanning. "Becci's flawless pale skin is much more attractive, and the same genes gave her the most enticing pale pink nipples, areolae and pussy." He paused, taking a sip of wine before adding, "Then there's her breasts! Pert and self-supporting and just the perfect handful."

Everyone fell silent when he turned to her and asked, "Give me your bra honey." Becci responded with an obedient and willing smile, her eyes just on him. Jono and his guests leered at her, partly in shock, partly anticipation. Earlier when discussing FKK clubs, he had suggested moving onto a club offering live sex shows on stage, and even mentioned a few swingers clubs. Yet, in comparison, Becci's submission was more powerful and erotic.

She reached back to unhook the clasp of her little lacy 1/4 cup bra and slipped the straps down and off each arm in turn, then pulled it through her dress. "Beautifully done sweetheart, take a bow." She obliged with a flourish, allowing those across the table a clear view down her dress.

Paul placed one hand on the small of her back and caressed her buttocks with the other, then pulled her dress up over her slim waist. Two waitresses entered their private dining room to distribute a little amuse bouche. Paul proceeded, apparently oblivious to their discomfort. Becci looked up at the girls as they briefly watched, embarrassed and perhaps in shock, then made good their escape. Paul started to caress Becci's slim waist, thighs and perk buttocks.

Snapping her little lace thong, he looked longingly at her, "Beautiful as always honey, but this is an unnecessary distraction." Without any hesitation, Becci slipped it over her bum cheeks and slowly down her legs.

Paul kindly took her hand to steady her as she stepped out of the tiny garment, then he pulled the deep cut front of her dress down under each tit in turn, cupping them in his hands and pinching her nipples. She stood proudly and compliantly on display, as he continued to describe their agreement, her promise of obedience, and her body, "So petite and malleable, yet perfect in every respect. She is amazingly tight and always ready."

Without a further word Paul unzipped her dress and slipped the straps off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She responded to the lightest pressure on the small of her back, bending forward over the table again, her pelvis thrust back towards him.

Jono couldn't take his eyes off Becci, "Go on then, fuck her!" No one else spoke, but Tom now had his hand between his fiancée's thighs.

Paul freed his erect cock and pressed it into Becci. The tableware shook and glasses clinked with each lunge; it took several thrusts before her tight tunnel fully yielded to accept his length. Everyone fell silent as he described the sensation as he entered her, "I can feel her tight little rings of muscle spasm on me!"

Finally, he slid from her in a single sweeping move and pulled her around and down onto her knees. Pulse after pulse of semen spurted into her welcoming mouth. Becci swallowed all that she could and dabbed her lips with Jono's serviette. She took her seat beside Paul and waited obediently, dressing only when he gave his permission.

By the end of the meal, Paul was wary that things might go too far with present company, particularly as the alcohol flowed freely and they discussed where to go next. He made their excuses and headed to a more mainstream club with Becci. She had been a very good girl and the perfect wife; he complimented her and graciously told her that she was, "Allowed to play."

Becci struggled to understand the limits of the implied freedom; Paul wouldn't tell her where the boundaries where. She was expected to instinctively know how far to go. She whispered: "Can I see how many men I can make... make hard?"

Paul looked curious, but nodded. He stood near the bar and soon struck up a conversation with two lads. Becci stationed herself behind him with her back turned; she appeared to be alone, and it wasn't long before a tall muscular man approached. Her German was rudimentary, but she flirted shamelessly. Paul could see her in a mirror; she playfully ran her fingers down his chest, then unbuttoned his shirt to slip her hands inside.

The German's hands were soon all over Becci, openly groping her body. She cupped his groin and smiled as she broke free with, "I'm with someone." She mouthed, "One!" as she walked past Paul.

The little dress she was wearing left little to the imagination, and soon she was twerking on the dance floor, her bum cheeks pressed against and stimulating the groins of various receptive strangers. At other times she pulled eager and willingly young men onto the floor, striding backwards in her heels and ensuring her bare thigh was between their legs and pressing against their cock and balls before taking the next step back. Their bodies were soon entwined, and hands ran free and unchecked over her slender body. Each time she broke free from one, other men jostled for position. She had attracted rather a lot of attention.

Becci whispered, "Twelve!" as she passed Paul again, slinking towards a group of older men by the bar. She exclaimed, "What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?" She drew closer to them and desperate to hit her self-imposed target, she told them the details of the game in whisper, and that her husband was watching, "You can touch me, but we stop when you get hard!" She let each snog and grope her in turn, as they fought their erections. As before, she felt their groins and broke away to choose another once their erections were firm.

They plied her with PornStar Martinis, while she occasionally looked across at Paul. As her awareness and inhibitions faded, a few appeared to have managed to finger her. She returned to Paul flushed, disheveled and breathless.

Becci confessed to playing a more innocent game with her friends in uni, "We competed to see who could snog the most boys; I won easily with a count of 26, but during the latter half of the evening the boys had become very forward, slipping their hands inside my dress to feel my tits, a few even ventured inside my panties. I later learnt that one of the losing girls had told a few boys about the game and that I would let them do pretty much anything they wanted in return for a snog."

Becci looked a little sheepish as she explained, "Naturally, word had spread like wildfire and several men took advantage of me." Yet it was painfully clear that this memory still excited her and it now provided her with a target to meet or beat. She pointed out a stag party to Paul and slowly backed away from him, giving him the chance to stop her.

Becci was soon surrounded by them and the centre of their attention. She challenged the stags to, "Strip Fuzzy Duck!" Within minutes she had lost two rounds, surrendering her bra and panties, then stammered, "Fuck he does!" She explained that the only thing she was now wearing was her dress and they'd be thrown out if she stripped naked! Instantly she offered to give the groom a lap dance in lieu.

She slinked up and down his body, briefly pulling her dress aside to press her nipples into his mouth, then straddled him, gyrating on him. It wasn't long before her hands disappeared under her dress. From his expression everyone knew her hands were on his groin. The club was loud enough to conceal the sound of his zip being undone, but up close it was clear that she was freeing his cock.

The best man squeezed a condom into her hand. Becci stopped dead and stared into the groom's eyes, still straddling him, "You're not allowed to fuck me, but we can't have you making a mess!" He nodded, and Becci fumbled to stretch the rubber over his swollen erection. She began to slide back and forth along his length, picking up the pace and throwing in a few circular wiggles in time with the beat.

She was flushed, her dress askew and left nipple exposed once again, as her bare pussy and clit pressed down on his warm, hard sheathed penis. Breathlessly and almost pleading, she asked, "Am I better than your fiancée?"

Squeezing against his body she tilted her pelvis and eased herself back onto him; cheers went up as she pressed further back, "The little slut's fucking him!"

Becci frantically shook her head, "No, no I'm just messing with him!" The tip of his cock had briefly popped into her entrance, but only for a few seconds.

Becci didn't try to conceal that she was close to an orgasm herself, knowing that this would also please and arouse them. Slow gyrations of her pelvis became frantic movements; soon she felt a familiar pulse and warmth as his swollen balls emptied into his condom, with her bare pussy pressed against it.

There was now a wall of men surrounding her. Becci's heart was pounding as she dismounted and with her finger on her lower lip she whispered, "I guess I did lose earlier, so you do deserve to see me." She unzipped her dress and slowly performed a final striptease to finish naked on her knees, her fingers inside her soaking pussy. She ran her hand around their groins in the circle, counting. She had unquestionably exceeded her personal target.

That so many men were hard and eager and ready to fuck her excited her. Dark fantasies and visions intruded. Perhaps they might just take her there and then, or maybe later in the street in pure unbridled lust!

Becci blushed and quickly dressed to run to Paul. They made another hasty retreat, spilling out onto the street and into a waiting taxi. She was quivering as she confessed, "He came but I made him wear a rubber and it was just on the outside, that doesn't count?" She elaborated, "You know, he probably thought it was just my sex juices dripping onto him, but I bet most of it was the remnants of your cum from earlier on the river bank."

Becci was barely through their bedroom door when Paul pinned her to the floor and savagely drove his hard, bare cock into her, his hand on her neck.

She had barely got her breath back when he flung open the curtain, "Strip and give me a proper lap dance." Pain and pleasure merged as he pinched and twisted her engorged nipples, while she rhythmically worked his hard penis inside her. Paul's cousin listened in the adjoining room, his own cock swollen and rigid in his hand as he wondered whether money really couldn't buy her.