So there she was, in the dining area of the hotel in sunny Tenerife with her partner, Mark, He was still sleeping off his hangover in their room. Jenny was absolutely fine, a few Vodka's to loosen her up and the dance floor was hers but Mark overdid the sherbets and this morning, his head was paying the price.

Jenny smiled to herself as she chomped on her muesli, thinking of how she could turn this to her own advantage. It was definitely good material to wind Mark up with and, boy would she use it to her full advantage.

Jenny sipped on her glass of fresh orange juice as she gazed out of the window at the outdoor pool. The sun loungers were all taken and she mused at how many of them would be Germans! She didn't care too much as she had other plans for the day, a bit of retail therapy in an air conditioned mall with fresh coffee to boot, just what the doctor ordered. The sun was alone in a cloudless sky and it was destined to be another scorcher, she thought to herself. That could make Mark even more dehydrated and she thought about taking him a bottle of water to their room. Then she thought that the lack of fluids would add to his headache and that made her smile. He was a big boy now, he could look after himself.

Jenny left the dining area and went to the hotel shop to buy herself a British magazine to read on the bus into town. Dressed in a skimpy white skirt and a top which showed to the world she was bra-less made her look incredibly horny. Her perfectly made hair and minimal make up adding to her beauty and sexiness.

She was looking hot and she knew it by the subtle turning of male heads, the obvious ogling even through heavily tinted sun glasses and Jenny felt like a million dollars, full of confidence and vibrancy on this bright and pleasant morning.

The bus ride into town was pretty uneventful and she was soon in a modern mall looking at a range of locally made clothing, imported sports wear and international jewellery and watches. Converting the Euro into sterling was not necessary, she had allowed herself the indulgence of spending a fixed amount. After that, she would have to go without. Anyway, it was a bit like finding a boy friend, the fun was in the chase!

Jenny's sense of humour continued through the morning, eventually settling down in a coffee shop with a latte and a chocolate slice.

A Spanish gentleman had been following her, or so it seemed. Everywhere she went, he appeared, his olive tanned skin and 3 days beard growth endeavoured to give him a rugged look but succeeded only in making him look untidy. She'd first noticed him by his pungent body odour as he'd passed by her as she was looking at bracelets. Since then, she'd got the impression he'd been following her.

She'd not spoken to him, but Jenny had decided in her mind he was called Manuel, after the character in Fawlty Towers. Short and middle aged, his casual clothing made him look sad. Tragic, almost. Jenny thought that maybe he'd taken a break from begging in the street and that beggars probably made a fortune from tourists at this time of year. But if he was a beggar, why was he sat opposite her with a large Americano and a packet of Marlboro?

Jenny went back to her magazine, interested in an article about teenagers being coerced into the sex trade from the far east into Europe. She felt a presence beside her and she looked up into the dark brown eyes of the character she'd labelled Manuel.

"You have a light?" he enquired, his accent obviously European. Jenny shook her head.

"Sorry, I don't smoke" she said, returning to her article. The Spaniard put his cigarette back in the packet.

"No. Nor me. I try to give up!" he said, smiling at Jenny. She looked up at him and tried to smile but his overpowering body odour made it difficult to be pleasant. At least it hid the smell of tobacco and spicy food from his breath.

Jenny nodded and returned to her article, hoping Manuel would get the message. He persevered.

"You look for pretty clothes?" he said, obviously having watched her shopping habits.

"Mm Hmm" Jenny replied, trying not to get into a conversation.

"I know very good place. You come" he said, taking her by the hand. Jenny shook her head.

"No. It's OK, really" she protested but the stranger was very determined.

"No. You come with me. I show you. Very good place. Pretty clothes for pretty lady. You come" he said, both hands under her armpits and for a short man, he was powerful.

"Look, I don't want to........."

"You come..." he insisted, almost dragging her from the coffee shop. "........very nice clothes. Very cheap" he said smiling all the time. Jenny had heard that the locals were very friendly but she was a little worried what might happen to her. This was Tenerife, not New York or London however, so although concerned, she decided to go with the flow. She didn't have to buy anything, did she? She could just look. What harm would it do?

The Spaniard took her out of the mall and across a couple of streets to a local market area, where there were stalls laden with a range of goods. This was obviously where the locals shopped, there were no touristy goods as such, no dodgy stuffed donkeys and other cheap tat, it was all locally made lace and hand made goods. Jenny felt a little more relaxed, although she still was uncertain about Manuel and his intentions. She felt, maybe, he was just a guy employed to attract customers to the market. The warm summer air added to Manuel's sweating and his odour became stronger. He could do with a bath, though, and Jenny tried to remain upwind from him.

"Look. Pretty clothes. No"? he said, his pigeon English sufficient to be understood. Jenny nodded. She was not totally comfortable here but she was adapting to the environment. There were no prices displayed so she assumed it was a matter of ask a price and haggle. Manuel led her to a stall which he obviously had an interest in, maybe he was the proprietor or owned a share in the business. It specialised in beach wear and ladies lingerie and Jenny began to feel uncomfortable again, not least because of the crowd around the stall had pushed Manuel into her personal space and Jenny tried to breathe in through her mouth, his odour now very offensive. No one else seemed to notice his aroma, however, and he pushed his way to the front of the stall.

"Here. You like?" he said, picking up a two piece bikini set in sky blue and white stripes. "You try" he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the side of the stall where some canvass sheets had been set up as a changing area. Jenny protested but Manuel remained as determined as ever.

"You try, you try" he said, almost pushing her into the changing area, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Jenny found herself in a canvas cubicle about the size of a telephone kiosk, a small stool in one corner and a cheap wire coat hanger hanging over one of the metal supports she assumed to put her own clothes on whilst she changed. She viewed the bikini and looked for a label with a size. She found no labels at all and guessed it was locally made. Probably no need for sizing labels, every one knows each other here, Jenny thought to herself.

She didn't like the design or colour much but Manuel had taken the effort to bring her down, the least she could do was to try the darned thing on. Even if things got nasty, she could buy it and give it to a charity shop when she got home. Maybe not, the design was so out of fashion that even the most needy charity shop would refuse it!

She peeled off her top a wriggled out of her skirt, taking time to hang them on the hanger. She stepped out of her briefs and looked around for a hook or something to hang them on. There was nothing about. She bent down and laid them on the stool in the corner, her back to the opening of the canvas door blissfully unaware that Manuel was watching her through a gap in the material. Jenny could smell his presence but merely thought he was hovering outside. She stood up and reached for the bikini top, noticing this was strapless and did up at the front. She bent down to pick up the bikini bottoms, again her back facing the entrance giving Manuel a super view of Jenny's sweet pussy lips and arse. Manuel started to sweat even more.

The swim wear was not a bad fit, a bit loose around the bust and Jenny had visions of jumping into the pool and loosing her top. Kinky. She knew Mark would love it but she was not so sure. The briefs were a good fit, however. She realised there was no mirror so she went to the opening, Manuel moving away promptly before she noticed him.

"Is there a mirror......?" she began but Manuel interjected.

"Very pretty. You no like?" he said, beckoning for other shoppers to come and look at Jenny.

"She look good, no?" he said loudly, gesticulating to the blond bomb shell stood in front of them. Jenny's face went beetroot red, making her look sunburnt.

"Do you have a......"

"Very pretty" Manuel interrupted her, "Maybe you like more colour" he said, picking up another two piece set in dark blue with white swirls around the nipple area and pubic region. "You try, you try" he said, pushing her back into the cubicle, closing the curtain behind her, once again leaving a small opening. Jenny was getting cheesed off with this smelly and pushy salesman, but decided to humour him until the opportunity arose to get away. The canvas cubicle had no other way out as the base was tied to the metal upright posts. Jenny felt trapped. She quickly removed the striped outfit and pulled on outfit with the swirls on, struggling with the briefs as they were smaller than the previous set and as she pulled and wriggled, her bust bounced giving Manuel a show to remember, her ample tits bouncing around like a pair of pinballs. Manuel noticed his groin stirring with the view and he surreptitiously placed a hand in his pocket, stroking himself through his pocket.

Jenny struggled to get the top on over her breasts, the strapless bikini top struggling to reach across her ample 36 inch bust. She breathed in deeply and managed to get the clasp to grip, releasing her breath gently in case the clip should give way under the pressure. It was far too small, she though to herself looking down at the volume of flesh poking out of the top of her bikini. She may not have liked it but Manuel was very appreciative of the look.

He opened the curtain almost on cue as she turned to exit the cubicle. Again, he went through the process of embarrassing Jenny into purchasing the item.

"Too small" she got in quickly, pointing to her bust.

"Not too small" he said, "Look, I show. You adjust" he said pushing her back into the cubicle and closing the canvas behind them. He placed his hands on the material at the side of her tits, fumbling blindly at the material. There were no adjustments on this design but he was having fun exploring her breasts. He turned her to face him.

"Adjustment here" he said and before she could do anything, he'd undone the clip at the front and had removed the top from her. Topless in a cubicle in the middle of a market in a strange part of town in a country where she was a visitor, she began to panic but Manuel tried to calm her down.

"You OK" he said firmly. "You OK".

"Get your hands off me, you pervert" she said, trying to slap Manuel.

"You think me have sex with you?" he said. Jenny blushed a bit. She did think he was trying to get his evil way with her but now it seemed so ridiculous. All he was doing was trying to help her with a swim suit. His methods were a little unorthodox, maybe, but just trying to be helpful. She began to calm down but Manuel was getting worked up.

"You think I have sex with you?" he said, his voice raising in pitch, "You think that me......" he said, his arm movements accentuating his rising vocal tones, "...have sex with you?" Then his voice quietened down and his manner became more menacing.

"If you expect sex, then I give you sex" he said, his brown eyes showing his darker side. He placed his hands on her shoulders and his power forced her down to her knees, her fear building but she felt paralysed, unable to move, scream or talk. He unzipped his trousers and revealed his stubby erection, two blisters along the shaft of his cock from excessive masturbation were still weeping as he forced his cock at her mouth. Unable to move, she felt his cock enter her mouth, the taste as foul as his smell. She wanted to spit it out, to tell him to stop, to cry, to stop the entire situation, to get dressed and get back to the hotel, to cuddle up to Mark. But this was here and it was now and Manuel had the control. She felt his erection against her tongue and the bump of the blister against her tongue made her feel sick, especially as she could taste the salty taste of the clear serum that oozed from his wounds.

"You want fucky, I give you fucky" he said, his voice inaudible to the crowds outside. Jenny knew it would only take one scream and it would be over, that some one would come to investigate, to save her. But she couldn't muster the energy to scream. She could barely inhale and exhale as the horror evolved in front of her. She felt numb all over as Manuel removed his cock from her mouth, guessing what was to come. He turned her to face the stool, leaning her forward and kneeling down behind her, his short frame ensuring his feet remained within the cubicle, invisible to the passing crowds just a few inches away. Manuel struggled to remove the bikini briefs from Jenny but managed to get them to her knees, pulling them over her ankles and smelling the crotch area.

"Mmm, you want fucky fucky?" he said, his hand between her legs massaging her pussy lips, his odour filling the cubicle like a noxious gas. In Jenny's confused state of mind, she wondered if this smelly man should have to carry a Hazchem board.

He sensed more than felt his cock at her pussy lips, probing at her sex, trying to gain entry to her most private of areas, her most personal part. He had licked his fingers and had tried to moisten her but she was still in a state of paralysis, her fear locking her emotions, trying to block out what was happening to her. She felt him enter her only when the moistness of his spittle and his pre-cum met the resistance of her own dry pussy. He used his body strength to force himself into Jenny, taking her self respect away. Jenny experienced a great burning pain as she was impaled by his stubby hard cock, she wanted to scream but was unable to do so. He forced himself deeper into her pussy, his cock thrusting with such vigour, Jenny expected the motions to become apparent and that some one to come in to the cubicle any second, to stop this situation.

Jenny was disappointed as Manuel continued to fuck her from behind. She felt tears in her eyes, tears of fear, tears of pain and tears of embarrassment. But she couldn't cry.

"I fucky you. You fucky me. We fucky each other" Manuel chanted quietly but loud enough for Jenny to hear. "I fucky you. Me fucky you and come. Me fucky you and come" he chanted. Jenny tried to knock her head on the stool, hoping it was a nightmare and she would wake up. She still couldn't move.

"Me fucky come. Me fucky come" Manuel said, leaning forward and grabbing her bare tits with both hands, squeezing gently at first but as his climax approached, his grip became more extreme.

"Oh, me fucky come" he gasped, his own breathing laboured and she felt him tense up at her behind, climaxing deep into her pussy, and Jenny imagined him violating her more personal area with his oily skinned semen, each one pungent in odour and in need of a shave, unable to speak the Queen's English. He pumped his load into her waiting womb, releasing his tadpoles into her sweet innocent body.

His climax subsided but the grip he held on her breasts remained for some time until his cock became limp. Withdrawing from her pussy, he stood and dressed himself.

"You buy this one, no?" he said. Jenny didn't look at him, she just nodded her head.

"I wrap for you" he said, leaving the cubicle with Jenny still naked on her knees, her arse facing the doorway, Manuel leaving the curtain half open, allowing anyone to have a free peek. She felt the warm sticky sperm of the Spaniard dribbling down her inner thigh and she felt her mobility return. She wanted to clean up the mess but she couldn't. Her pussy felt so sore like she'd been fucked with a red hot poker and her tits ached from his excessive squeezing. She felt sure they'd be bruised all over and that would put paid to her wearing any form of swimsuit for the rest of the holiday.

She repossessed her own briefs, having to endure the sensation of Manuel's sticky sperm soaking the crotch of her panties. She dressed in her white skirt and pulled on her top before realising the curtain was already half open. Across the market place, several guys had been watching her, one caught her eye and he blew her a kiss. Jenny felt dirty and disgraced as she left the cubicle.

"That's one hundred Euro's" she heard him say and, still dazed, she delved into her purse and pulled out all the Euro notes she had.

"Heh, you only got 80 Euros. You trying to steal from me?" he said at the top of his voice. Jenny was in no mood to haggle. She emptied her hand bag and Manuel took her Ipod as part payment.

"OK. You and me, we quits" he said, thrusting the bag with the horrid tight bikini in her hand.

"You go now" he said, leaving her to find her own way out of the market and to the bus stop. Jenny had the sensation of having been screwed twice, once physically and once financially. Right now, she just wanted out.

Jenny felt like shit. She'd come out to do a bit of shopping, she'd ended up being all but raped, sold a dodgy swim suit and charged a fortune for it and it wasn't even a designer label. Her groin was so painful and she just wanted to get home. If only she'd gotten that bottle of water for Mark, he might have come with her and none of this would have happened.

As she walked through the market, all the men were staring at her and she knew many of them had seen her in the changing cubicle. But now the women were looking at her and pointing, holding their hands to their mouths.

Jenny looked down at her skirt. Manuel had been so rough when he'd fucked her, he'd torn muscle and flesh. Jenny gasped in horror at a red blood patch on her white skirt at her pubic area, looking like her period had started. Everyone was pointing at her, some were laughing. Jenny felt humiliated. She looked at local stalls, trying to find a cheap skirt she could buy before suddenly realising she'd used all her money at Manuel's stall. And to avoid being pick-pocketed, she'd left her plastic cards back at the hotel. She had her return bus fare but that was all.

Children were pointing to her, asking their mummies why the lady had blood on her skirt. Everyone assumed that she'd started her period, a few guys who'd been watching her guessed it was from rough sex. And they don't get rougher than Manuel.

One guy thought he'd try his luck and offered to buy Jenny some replacement clothing in return for some favours.

Jenny's eyes welled up with tears as she ran through the market, bumping into people who shouted at her in a mixture of English and Spanish. She reached the main drag and recognised where she was. Content for a while, she stopped to get her breath back, her breathing heavy and she felt totally drained.

The smell of body odour hit her olfactory nerves and she found the energy to run to the bus station. The journey back to the hotel was a total embarrassment, everyone staring at her and, to make matters worse, the smell of fresh semen emanated from her lower half, causing everyone on the bus to whisper to each other.

Back at the hotel, Jenny got to the room and rushed to the bathroom, discarding her clothes and running a shower, trying to remove the smelly Spaniard's semen from her soft and homely pussy.

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