She Made the Rules, and We Only Obeyed

We had been at the mountain-range station for almost four months, the four of us, never going down to the village except to refuel the generator. We repaired the repeater antennas that provided signal to half the province, and between one storm and the next, time stretched like chewing gum. Four men, a sheet-metal cabin, a horizon of stone, and nothing else. Four months without a woman nearby. Four months pretending to be tough so we wouldn’t admit what we were missing, months of jerking off in our bunks, each of us covering his face with a pillow so we wouldn’t hear the guy beside us doing the same.

That morning, when the fog was beginning to lift from the valley, we saw her coming up the path with a basket on her arm.

“Good morning, young men,” she said, and her voice reached us before her face did. “Will you make room for some homemade bread?”

Her name was Soledad. We found that out later, because at first none of us was capable of saying anything coherent. She wore a long skirt down to her ankles, a scarf around her neck, and her hair was pulled into a thick braid that fell down her back. She had one of those firm bodies that no matter how many layers of clothing a woman puts on, they can’t hide it. And she looked at us like someone who already knew the effect she had.

“How much for the bread?” Tobías asked, the youngest of the four, pretending to be interested in the basket.

“The bread is cheap,” she replied, letting the question hang for a second too long. “The rest depends.”

We looked at one another. Damián let out a nervous laugh. I felt heat rising up my neck, and lower down too, my cock pushing against my pants before she had said anything specific.

“Depends on what?” I ventured.

Soledad set the basket on the ground without hurrying and walked over until she was standing in front of me. She smelled of firewood and something sweet. She rose onto her toes, brought her mouth close to my ear, and lowered her voice.

“On how much you want to play,” she whispered. “And whether you know how to lose.”

The morning air grew dense. Nobody said a word. She stepped away, looked at the cabin behind us, and spoke again, this time loudly, like someone announcing a decision that had already been made.

“Let’s go inside. But on one condition.”

“What condition?” Damián asked.

“I make the rules. You follow them. Anyone who does something I haven’t asked for, the game is over, and I leave with what I brought and whatever you’ve paid me. Deal?”

“Deal,” we answered almost in unison, and as we did, I understood that we had already lost the first hand without realizing it.

“One more thing,” she added, stopping in the doorway. “Nobody comes without my permission. The first one to get ahead of himself, the first one to spill inside his hand before I say so, sits in the chair and watches while the other three keep fucking her. Understood?”

We nodded, our mouths dry. All four of us went in behind her. Soledad closed the metal door, and the sound of the latch was louder than it should have been.

***

“Take off your clothes,” she said without further preamble. “All of them. And slowly—we have time.”

We obeyed. There were no jokes, no elbowing one another. Each of us left his clothes on the bunks while she watched with her arms crossed, leaning against the map table. In less than a minute, the four of us were standing in a row, naked and exposed beneath the single lamp hanging from the ceiling. Four hard cocks, taut and pointing forward as if answering a military inspection. Four months without touching a woman had left them like that, swollen with veins, their tips already wet.

Soledad surveyed us one by one, taking her time with each body. She bit her lip. She extended one finger and barely touched the head of Tobías’s cock, and the boy flinched as if she had burned him.

“Oh, this one’s almost there already,” she laughed. “We’re going to have to teach him how to hold out.”

She inspected us with the backs of her fingers, barely brushing each cock as though she were testing fruit at the market. She weighed mine in her palm, lifted it for a second, then let it fall against my belly.

“Not bad,” she concluded. “Let’s see if you know how to use what you have.”

Then she began. She untied her scarf and let it fall. She loosened her braid, and her hair spilled over her shoulders. She unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, unhurried, enjoying the way we followed every movement of her fingers. When the fabric opened, a simple white bra appeared, and beneath it two large breasts that swayed whenever she breathed. She lowered her skirt with a movement of her hips and stood there in panties and bra, her white skin against the cabin’s gloom.

“You,” she told Tobías, pointing with her chin. “You take off what’s left with your mouth. No hands. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them.”

The young man knelt in front of her, awkwardly, and tugged at the bra fabric with his teeth until one strap slipped down and a breast spilled onto his face. Tobías remained there for a few seconds with the nipple brushing his lips, unsure whether he was allowed to suck, and she grabbed his hair and pressed him against her skin.

“Suck. I didn’t give you permission to think.”

The boy obeyed, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Then she ran a hand over his face to move him aside and indicated her panties. Tobías bit the elastic and slowly pulled them down, sliding them over her thighs until the last garment fell onto the concrete floor. Soledad stood completely naked in the middle of that freezing cabin, and yet she was the one radiating heat, the one in command, the one deciding. She had a body that stayed in a man’s memory: a marked waist, large firm breasts with dark, erect nipples, and between her legs a shaved pussy, swollen, glistening, already wet up to the root of her thigh.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, spreading her legs slightly and lowering two fingers to part the lips of her cunt in front of us.

“Yes,” we answered.

“Yes, what?”

It took us a second to understand.

“Yes, ma’am,” Damián corrected, and she smiled like a satisfied teacher.

She sat on the edge of the map table, planted her heels on the edge, and spread her legs all the way. Her pussy was level with our faces, open and soaked, the skin pink inside and a shining thread running down to her asshole.

“Whoever wants to start, come closer,” she said. “With your tongue. No fingers yet. And slowly—the one who rushes loses his turn.”

***

Tobías was first again. He knelt down and she grabbed his hair with one hand, guiding him and setting the rhythm she wanted.

“Slowly,” she ordered. “Trace all of me first. From bottom to top. Go over my asshole, up along my lips, finish at my clitoris, and stay there when I tell you. Not before.”

The boy obeyed with a devotion that inspired tenderness and envy at the same time. He ran his whole flat tongue along her slit, from her ass to the top, once, twice, three times. Soledad tipped her head back and let out a long sigh, more controlled than uncontrolled, as if she were measuring every reaction of her own body. On the fourth pass, she dug her fingers into the back of his neck and pressed his mouth against her clitoris.

“There. Suck it. Like it’s a candy, but gently.”

Tobías closed his lips around the button and began sucking while she moaned and moved his head in small circles.

“Does it taste good?” she asked him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered against her skin without stopping his licking.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Swallow what’s dripping out of me. All of it.”

She moved him away when she wanted to, not when he would have liked, and gestured for Damián to take his place. Damián had more experience, and she noticed at once. He plunged his tongue inside her, pulled it out, plunged it back in, thrusting it as if he were fucking her with his mouth, then moved up to her clitoris and began flicking the tip rapidly while he pushed two fingers inside her and curled their tips against her inner spot. Soledad squeezed her thighs against his face, dug her heels into his back, and for the first time her voice broke a little.

“That one,” she gasped, “knows what he’s doing. That son of a bitch knows. Stay there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—”

She bit her fist, and Damián kept going, sucking and fingering her until she arched her back over the map table and came with a long moan, crushing his head against her pussy until she almost suffocated him. Her whole body trembled, her breasts bouncing up and down, and she spilled into his mouth. Damián swallowed it without letting go. When she finally relaxed her legs, he pulled away with his face soaked, his chin shining, and smiled like someone who had just passed an exam.

Meanwhile, she ordered the third man, Ezequiel, to stand behind her, kiss the nape of her neck and her shoulders, and not even think about lowering his hands without permission. And she left me for last, like someone deliberately saving something.

“You,” she said, pointing at me. “Come here. Up here.”

I approached. She took me by the nape and led me toward her breasts.

“With your mouth,” she instructed. “Both tits. No hurry. And look at me while you do it.”

I buried my face between her hot, firm breasts and began sucking them as she had ordered, never breaking eye contact. I licked her right nipple, gently bit it, held it between my teeth and tugged it toward me until she flinched, then moved to the other. Every time I closed my lips around a nipple, she squeezed her legs around Damián’s head, still down there licking her slowly, and released a deep sound. With her free hand she sought out my cock, grabbed it, squeezed it in her fist, and began moving the skin up and down without hurry, measuring my endurance.

“You came ready, didn’t you?” she whispered. “You’re rock-hard. Deal with it.”

We were four adult men, hardened by months of isolation and hard work, and all four of us were placed at the service of a single woman who hadn’t even raised her voice.

Soledad rotated us with a watchmaker’s patience. She sent one up to suck her tits, another down to eat her pussy, and left another standing with his cock in his hand, simply watching, punished for some impatience she had detected before we did. The one breathing too quickly received an order to stop and take his hand off his cock. The one who went still was ordered to continue. At one point, Soledad grabbed Tobías by the jaw, opened his mouth with her fingers, and spat inside, telling him to swallow—and the boy swallowed. The entire cabin smelled of sweat, anticipated semen, and wet pussy.

“Enough,” she said at last, sitting upright. “You’ve got me the way I wanted. Now it’s your turn to prove yourselves.”

***

She climbed down from the table and made us line up again in front of her. She walked slowly, inspecting us like an officer reviewing his troops. She grabbed each cock in turn, weighing it in her hand, squeezing it in her fist, sliding back our foreskins.

“Look at you,” she said with a half-smile. “All of you firm, all of you dripping from the tip, all of you waiting. Four hard dicks and not one of you dares move. I love it.”

She knelt in front of us and began attending to us one by one, not for long, just enough to bring us to the edge and then let go, abandoning us at that exact point where a man would do anything to make her continue. She took Tobías all the way into her mouth, down to her throat, and gave him two, three quick pumps until the boy moaned that he couldn’t hold out any longer. She popped him out with a smack and gave him two gentle slaps across the face with his wet cock.

“Hold on, soldier boy. Not yet.”

She moved on to Damián. She gripped his base with one hand and sucked the head with her lips, squeezing and twisting it, while her other hand caressed his balls. She sucked Ezequiel slowly, looking up at him with shining eyes, her tongue peeking out around the frenulum. When she reached me, she opened my mouth, placed her tongue beneath me, and let my cock fall onto it so I could watch it sink into her mouth. Then she closed her lips and began moving her head up and down, sucking hard and hollowing her cheeks, until I felt everything coming. The damn woman pulled away at that exact moment and blew icy air onto my wet tip. I almost dropped to my knees.

It was torture measured down to the millimeter. Whenever she noticed one of us was too close, she left him and moved to the next, and the poor bastard was left trembling, biting his lips so he wouldn’t break the rule, his cock throbbing in the air with a thick drop hanging from the tip.

“Remember,” she warned us from below, her mouth full of saliva and pre-cum. “Nobody comes without me saying so. Whoever gets ahead of himself goes to the chair. And I’ll leave him watching while the others fill me.”

Then she stood, wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, and returned to the table. She turned around, planted her palms on the maps, arched her back, and pushed her ass out. Her pussy was open and dripping, and above it was her tight, brown asshole, shining in the lamplight.

“Now. One at a time. Fast when I say fast, slow when I say slow. You start,” she ordered me.

I went first. I approached from behind, grabbed one of her hips with one hand, and guided the tip to her pussy with the other. I rubbed it a little between her wet lips, soaking it, and then pushed. I sank all the way in with a single thrust, and she let out a hoarse moan. She was incredibly tight, hot, dripping; she wrapped around me like a wet fist. I grabbed both her hips and began moving, slowly at first, but she set a harder rhythm with her own body, thrusting herself against me.

“Like that,” she murmured. “Hard, but don’t rush. Put it all the way in. Slap my ass with your balls. That’s it, like that. You don’t decide when. I do.”

I fucked her as she asked, smacking one cheek and watching her ass bounce with every thrust, watching a white line of foam form at the base of my cock, watching her pussy open and close around me. I grabbed her half-finished braid and pulled. She arched her neck farther and moaned louder. When she felt she couldn’t take any more, she pushed me away with an open palm against my chest, yanking me out, and I was left trembling with my cock in the air, shining with her juices.

“Get out. Now. Well done,” she said, and those two words filled me with an absurd, ridiculous pride I hadn’t expected.

Tobías was second, and he lasted almost no time at all. He got behind her, grabbed her waist badly, gave five or six uncoordinated thrusts, and she saw the disaster coming. She dug her nails into his forearm, pulled him out sharply, and squeezed the base with her thumb and forefinger, cutting off his orgasm cold. The boy let out a cry of pure pain and frustration. A low laugh escaped her, without malice.

“Next time you’ll last longer, soldier boy. Go to the corner. Watch.”

Tobías obeyed, sat in the wooden chair in the corner, and stayed there with his cock hard and red, watching us continue.

She put Ezequiel with his back to her—or rather, she put herself with her back against his chest: she made him sit on the long bench, climbed onto him facing forward, and lowered herself onto his cock in a squat. She began moving herself up and down, bracing on his knees, and took his hands and brought them to her breasts.

“Squeeze me. Hard. As if you wanted to leave a mark.”

Ezequiel squeezed, pinched her nipples between his fingers, and twisted them slightly. She released a guttural moan while continuing to fuck him from above. Then she reached one hand behind her, grabbed his wrist, and guided it to her asshole.

“Your finger. Inside. Slowly.”

Ezequiel wet his finger with saliva and began sinking it inside her while she continued rising and falling on his cock. Double stimulation. His eyes rolled back. He grabbed her free hand and bit it to keep from shouting.

“Can you feel who’s in charge here?” she asked over her shoulder, almost breathless.

“You, Soledad.”

“You,” she corrected, grinding herself against him. “And yes. You’re mine this morning. Every one of you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, obeying her until she pulled herself off him with a sharp movement, just before the poor man burst.

Damián was last, the skilled one, and she allowed him a little longer, almost as a reward for what he had done earlier. She made him lie on his back on the wooden floorboards and sat on top of him, looking him in the face. She rode him slowly, rolling her hips, letting her breasts hang over his mouth so he could stick out his tongue and reach them without using his hands. Then she bent down, planted her palms on his chest, and sped up, her thighs trembling, until she was about to come again. When she saw him lost, his face red and his teeth clenched, she rose without warning, leaving him beneath her, his cock marked by her wetness and throbbing in the air. Even him she stopped with a single word just when he thought he had permission. None of the four of us broke the rule. None of us dared.

“Good,” she said at last, panting, her voice hoarse. “You’ve earned permission. Come here.”

She sat on the edge of the table, leaned back on her elbows, spread her legs, and grabbed her breasts with both hands, squeezing them together and offering her cleavage and pussy at the same time.

“The three of you,” she ordered Damián, Ezequiel, and me. “Here, around me. Jerk off over my face and tits. All outside—I want to see it. And you, soldier boy,” she said to Tobías from the chair, “keep jerking off, but don’t come until I tell you. You’re still being punished.”

The three of us approached and surrounded her, each with his cock in his fist, stroking rapidly and aiming at her. She looked up at us from below, biting her lip and sticking out her tongue, and sometimes she took one tip into her mouth for a second, sucked it, released it, and moved to the next. I was the first to explode. A thick white jet shot out, splashing her cheek and hanging from her chin, and she laughed with pleasure, sticking out her tongue to catch the rest. Damián came over her tits, long strings sliding between her breasts. Ezequiel aimed at her mouth, and she opened it and kept it open; when he finished, she ran her tongue over her lips and swallowed what had fallen inside.

Then she looked at Tobías, who was killing himself in the chair, his cheeks red and his eyes watery.

“Now you, soldier boy. Come here. Come over their cum onto my tits, so I can clean you up.”

Tobías ran over; in two steps he was in front of her, and with three more strokes he came with a broken moan, spilling over her nipples and the semen mixed from the other three. She ran her fingers over her skin, gathered it up, brought them to her mouth, and sucked them one by one.

***

When she had finished with all of us, Soledad remained seated on the edge of the table, flushed, breathing hard, her face and chest shining, and wearing a satisfied smile that had less to do with what her body had received than with what she had accomplished. She had held all four of us in the palm of her hand, and she knew it.

“Was that all?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Four men shut away for months, and you run out of breath so quickly. I’m a little disappointed.”

None of us knew what to say. All four of us were sprawled around the cabin floor, exhausted and mute, our cocks softening and our thighs stained, looking at her like puppies.

“Next time,” she said as she wiped the semen from her chest with her scarf and dressed with the same calm with which she had undressed, “bring more stamina. And more money.”

She tied her braid, adjusted her scarf, and looked at us one by one, collecting payment with her eyes before using her hands.

“I’ll leave the service at whatever you have in your wallets,” she announced. “Everything.”

We emptied our pockets without a word. She counted the bills with quick fingers, tucked them into the basket beneath the bread, and looped the handle over her arm.

“A pleasure doing business,” she said.

Before opening the door, she came over to me, took my face in one hand, and gave me a slow kiss, different from everything else, almost affectionate. She still had the taste of my own milk on her tongue and ran it over my mouth without shame.

“You’re my favorite,” she whispered. “Next time I’ll save you some bread fresh from the oven. And something else fresh from the oven, too.”

She left the cabin without looking back, walking calmly down the path, her braid swinging and her basket full. The four of us remained sitting on the concrete, staring at our empty wallets on the map table.

“Would you pay again?” Tobías asked after a while, his voice hoarse.

We looked at one another. There was no need to vote.

“Without thinking,” I said.

And the other three nodded, smiling, while outside the fog finished lifting over the mountain.