A not-so-Good Samaritan

Carlos Alcaraz wore a bemused expression as he surveyed the scene; two fans with their phones out, laughing and filming...the British doubles team; stark naked, soaking wet, and making out!

When he had made his presence known, Katie Boulter had spun around, taking her cute buttocks from view, crossing her legs to shield her pussy, and placing one arm across her chest. Her other hand was hanging awkwardly. Heather Watson was breathing heavily, and the glittering substance on Katie's fingers gave away that the former had just orgasmed.

The two fans, meanwhile, had quickly stashed their phones, looking guilty.

"H-hey, Carlos," Katie blushed, unable to make eye contact. "P-please help us, they stole our clothes!"

"Hey, we only stole your flag!" one of the fans argued. "You were the ones walking around naked."

"And you **** me to cum!" Heather piped up.

Carlos had always appreciated how Britain seemed to consistently produce hot female players, and it appeared that seeing two of them in a graphic, sexual relationship was too good to be true.

Wishing that he'd happened upon the scene a few seconds earlier, the Spaniard approached the fans.

"If you girls delete all the footage you have, I'll take some photos with you, and you can keep the flag."

The duo enthusiastically agreed. Photos with the most attractive male player on the tour, bullying two cute female players, and taking home a physical momento? All in all, a successful day out!

xxx

Once the fans were sent on their way, Carlos turned to the two crying Brits.

"You girls OK?"

"Of course not!" Katie exclaimed. "Someone stole EVERYTHING when we were in the shower!"

"Please can you help us?" Heather asked, her body still tingling from her orgasm.

Pulling his t-shirt over his head, Carlos dropped it on the floor between the two pairs of bare feet.

"One of you can wear that," he smiled, but the girls were already fighting over it.

The Spaniard watched on as bare limbs flailed and boobs were flashed as the Brits wrestled each other, tumbling into a ball of nakedness.

When the scuffle was over, the two girls had contrasting appearances.

Heather was wearing a t-shirt that extended down to her knees, with sleeves that brushed her elbows. The garment clung to her damp skin in much the same way that her wet hair was doing, showing the outline of her torso through the thin material. She placed one forearm over her breasts, and gently tugged down on the hem of the t-shirt with her other hand. The dark-haired girl wished she had something to wear on her exposed legs and bare feet, but felt much better about her clothing situation when she glanced over at Katie.

The blonde girl was entirely nude from head to toe. She was so flustered that she appeared not to know what to do with her arms; they would dance between covering her breasts, jumping between her legs, trying to cover both areas, and hugging her sides. Tears glistened on her red cheeks, and she continued to shiver violently.

Heather struggled to find any sympathy for her; this was karma working at its best. Heather would rather push Katie out in front of the paparazzi instead of giving her some clothes; a worthy punishment for forcing Heather to perform a deeply private act in front of strangers.

"D-d-do you h-have anything else?" Katie asked.

"Sorry, that's it," Carlos winked. "And anyway, you've got the body for going naked. Come on, let's get you girls home."

Carlos grinned as he heard two pairs of wet feet slapping their way down the corridor in his wake. It hadn't escaped his notice that both girls had been openly staring at his bare torso; Katie had even been biting her lip as her eyes studied his muscles. If he played this right, his day could be about to get even better...