The Friend I Had Always Desired Wanted Me to Humiliate Her

In life, good times are few and far between. They fall behind us along with our youth, making way for the monotony of work and the background noise of identical days. Even so, there is always one worth remembering, and one of mine bears the name of a woman it took me twelve years to touch.

Her name was Hailey. She was American, but lived in Spain because of her father’s work. I met her by chance: a good friend of mine started dating her, and although I had never seen her before, I liked her from the very first minute. She was one of those people who seem to have stepped out of a screen. Blue eyes, blond hair, impossibly flawless skin, and a smile that quickened my pulse without her doing anything. There wasn’t a boy in town who didn’t look at her twice.

That was in the late nineties. After a couple of years, she broke things off with my friend and returned to the United States. I thought I would never see her again. Around the same time, I also ended things with the girl I was dating then—a good girl, it has to be said—but Hailey’s departure buried any fantasy I might have had about her.

Life went on. I dated other women, until I got myself into a relationship that was more serious than was good for me. One of those things a person should never do.

By the time I realized it, twelve years had passed. Then one day, without warning, I received a friend request on a social network, like so many others. I glanced at it: a pretty girl, probably a fake profile. The name caught my attention because I had always liked it, and as it happened, it was hers. It didn’t take me long to understand that it really was her. I had never completely forgotten her.

We started talking. And things unfolded more or less as anyone would imagine: eventually, I met up with her. Yes, I was living with someone else at the time, and I’m not proud of that. Every time we met, I told my partner I was going out with a friend. Deep down, it was almost true: Hailey and I were friends. The only difference was the tension between us, a current that could have been cut with a knife and never failed to flare up.

***

My relationship at the time gradually became hell. It had nothing to do with Hailey, whom I saw very rarely because she lived in the Levante region and I lived in the south. It was simply that some people are impossible to reason with. In the end, we broke up.

The curious thing was that just two weeks later I met up with Hailey, who had come to visit her brothers. I was so thrown off by my own problems that nothing happened between us, and, as she later confessed to me, she didn’t like that at all. I had her right there and didn’t dare. I don’t think I was ready to fail precisely with her. I dropped her off at home and left with the feeling that I had lost something.

We kept talking on the phone. A month later, she suggested I go visit her. She lived with her mother and one of her brothers, but they had a spare room for me. I liked the idea more than I wanted to admit, so I took two days off work and went to spend the weekend with her.

I left early and arrived around noon. It was better than I expected. We ate together, went for a walk, and as night fell we ended up near the sea. I told her I wanted to go down to the shore, since I didn’t often get to see the sea. Once we were there, beneath the only light of a full moon, I looked at her in silence.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked.

“Of course!” she replied, almost angry that I had taken so long to ask.

And there, without either of us knowing it yet, we opened a door we would no longer be able to close. We kissed like two teenagers, unhurriedly, for hours. I love kissing, and I gave her a good lesson in patience. I couldn’t believe I was holding her in my arms after so many years of silently desiring her. Nothing else happened that weekend, and it was good that way.

***

I went home with her promise that she would soon come to visit another of her brothers, who lived in a town near mine.

“Keep yourself free,” she told me when we said goodbye.

At the time, I didn’t fully understand her.

A week of daily calls went by, and the following week she came. I didn’t waste any time. We spent the afternoon together, and as the night progressed, her attitude grew hotter and hotter. In the bar where we were sitting, the waitress at the far end of the counter noticed the way we were devouring each other with kisses. Hailey was already caressing my cock through my trousers without making any effort to hide it, squeezing it with her open palm, measuring it with her fingers, and every time she leaned over to whisper something in my ear, she pressed a tit against my arm. I had to put an end to it.

“Let’s go to my place. Now,” I told her.

“Let’s go. My pussy’s been soaked for an hour.”

I drove slowly because not a drop of blood was circulating in my head: it was all in my cock, which hadn’t gone down since we were at the bar. She wasn’t helping. She slipped her hand inside my trousers, pulled my cock out into the open, and spent almost the whole drive playing with it, tugging my foreskin up and down, rubbing her thumb over the glans until she left it wet with what was already beginning to leak out. Every time we hit a red light, she bent down and gave it a slow lick, from root to tip, then sat back up with a calm, slutty smile as if she hadn’t done a thing.

I brought her into the house without even offering her a coffee. We went straight to the bedroom, like two animals in heat. She was surprised to see that I had taken the mattress off the bed frame and put it on the floor. I didn’t explain; she would understand soon enough.

We began touching each other standing up, still dressed, kissing furiously. I pushed up her shirt and unclasped her bra on the first try. There they were, at last, her tits: big, white, heavy, with pink nipples hard as stones. I ran my tongue over one and then the other, sucking them until her skin broke out in gooseflesh, biting them gently while she pulled my hair and pressed my head against her chest. I took her to the mattress and spent a good while on them, running my tongue along her cleavage, biting where her breast began, squashing them against my face.

I undid her trousers and yanked them down along with her panties. Her pussy was just as she had promised: shaved, swollen, gleaming with wetness. I ran two fingers over it and a long moan escaped her.

“Put them inside me, you son of a bitch,” she murmured.

I pushed them in. Both of them, all the way, and began moving them slowly while I searched for her clitoris with my thumb. She pulled me toward her.

“Let’s get all our clothes off,” she moaned.

I stood up and tore my clothes off. I went for a condom I had ready on the nightstand. When I turned around, I found her on her knees on the mattress, naked, staring at me and beckoning with her hands. I approached. Hailey wanted to suck my cock, and she did it slowly, looking at me with those blue eyes, freshly made up, smelling in a way that drove me crazy. She took the whole thing into her mouth in one motion, and I felt the glans reach the back of her throat. She pulled back, drew breath, and did it again. And again. And again. She moved away to lick my balls, took them into her mouth one at a time, sucked the root of my cock from below while looking at me like a whore, saliva running down her chin.

“You’re gorgeous,” I told her, my voice broken, gripping her hair with both hands.

I picked up the pace and began fucking her mouth, pushing her head against my pubis, feeling her gag and endure it without pulling away. Every time I let go of her, she separated for a second to breathe and then came back for more, eyes watering and wearing a disgusting smile of satisfaction. But I didn’t want to finish that way. I needed to truly make her mine.

I put the condom on, and she lay down on the mattress, legs spread, pussy offered, one hand rubbing a tit. I knelt between her legs and ran the glans over her pussy lips, up and down, soaking it in her wetness, until she herself grew angry and reached between my legs to guide my cock inside her. I entered slowly, inch by inch. There’s nothing like the sensation of a new pussy squeezing your cock, feeling it gradually adapt to you while its owner moans beneath your weight.

I began fucking her gently, embracing her, eating at her neck, my face pressed against hers. I moaned too. I gradually increased the pace, pulling almost all the way out and then burying it again, listening to the wet sound our skin made when it collided. She dug her nails into my back and begged me for more in my ear.

“Harder,” she whispered. “Break me.”

I grabbed her beneath the knees, pushed her legs against her chest, and opened her wide. From that position I penetrated her deeply, watching my entire cock disappear inside her and come back out gleaming. I was sleeping with the woman I had desired for half my life, and we were both releasing years of tension all at once.

It didn’t take long. When she began moaning differently—high-pitched, broken—I knew she was coming, and felt her pussy clench in spasms around my cock. That pushed me to the edge. I leaned close to her ear and started saying things to her. I hardly remember any of them, because by then I was out of my mind, but I do remember one:

“I’m going to come on your face.”

I said it without thinking. She, on the other hand, filed it away. She took silent note of everything that turned me on. I came inside the condom with three sharp thrusts and a grunt, then remained on top of her, my cock still hard inside her, trying to catch my breath and feeling her pussy continue to squeeze me in small contractions. After that night, we never stopped.

***

Ours was an intermittent affair. She came to me or I went to her, and those short gaps—sometimes only a week—made us desire each other like mad. Our phone conversations grew increasingly explicit: we masturbated together from a distance, she told me in graphic detail how she put her fingers inside herself while thinking about my cock, and I described everything I was going to do to her when I had her in front of me. When we got together, all I wanted was to have her, devour her, bury myself inside her.

One of those weeks we couldn’t see each other, and after five days we were at the breaking point. Hailey announced that she was going to prepare something special for me, and that she didn’t want me touching myself until then.

“Save all your cum for me,” she asked over the phone. “Don’t come even once this week. I want you bursting when you see me. Get yourself looking good too.”

“All right,” was all I managed to say.

I don’t know how I made it to Friday. My balls felt as heavy as if they were full of stones. I went to pick her up to go out with some friends, and when she appeared, I was speechless. She looked magnificent. She had the elegance of a woman in her thirties, without overdoing the makeup: barely red lips, emphasized lashes, her blond hair loose. I couldn’t pay attention to anyone else that night. I only looked at her, and she looked at me, knowing perfectly well what awaited me. After a while, we decided without discussing it: home.

We reached the bedroom, with the mattress on the floor again. She took off her clothes from the waist up while I struggled with my shirt. She helped me remove the rest almost violently, tugging at my belt, ripping my boxers down in one pull until my cock sprang free, stiff and throbbing. She shoved me onto the bed and crouched between my legs.

“You’ve got quite a one,” she murmured, weighing it in her hand.

She began sucking me with a delicacy that contrasted with the hunger we both brought with us. At first it was only the glans, in and out of her mouth, her tongue circling the head. Then she lowered herself with her lips tight around me to the halfway point, rose, went lower, until she took the whole thing in. She took my hand and placed it on the back of her neck so I could set the pace.

I wanted to try everything that had crossed my mind during that week of abstinence. I asked her for something I had seen and that obsessed me. Since she usually looked at the same pages I did, she immediately knew what I meant and nodded, docile, ready to please me in whatever I asked. She got on all fours at the foot of the mattress, ass pointed toward me, and continued licking my balls from below while I fondled her hanging tits.

In the middle of it, I noticed her stop. She rummaged through her bag, took out I don’t know what—a lipstick that she touched up, a mirror with which she quickly checked her eyelashes—and returned to what she was doing with her mouth. She had freshened herself up for what she knew was coming. I could barely stand the anticipation. I wanted more, so I stopped her.

“Let’s finish getting undressed,” I told her. “I want to eat your pussy.”

She obeyed without a word. She took off her skirt, pulled down her soaked panties, and held them to her nose for a second before tossing them aside, looking at me boldly. I laid her on her back, spread her legs wide, and dove in. Her pussy was shaved bare again and so wet that her juices ran down to her asshole. I ran my whole tongue over her from below to her clitoris, flat and slowly, and she arched on the mattress as if I had electrocuted her.

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” she moaned. “Eat me properly.”

I did as she asked. I worked her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, in circles, then up and down, then sucking the whole thing as if it were a small cock. I put two fingers inside her and curled them to find her G-spot, moving them while I continued licking her little bud. She writhed, pressed my face against her pussy with both hands, and rode my mouth without the slightest shame.

“Don’t make me come yet,” she suddenly moaned, barely managing to push my head away. “I want to come with you inside me.”

“Perfect.”

I kept using my tongue for a while longer, now gently, probing, without pressing, until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck me now. Put it all the way in. Now.”

I didn’t hesitate. I was wearing a condom, and had the hardness of a man who hadn’t come in days. I entered all the way in one hard thrust, and she let out a hoarse cry that came from her stomach. A minute of deep, steady pounding was enough to make her begin moaning uncontrollably, clutching the sheets, her tits bouncing up and down with the rhythm of my thrusts. I lifted one leg, placed it on my shoulder, and penetrated her from the side, feeling my cock sink deeper from that angle.

“Come on my face!” she suddenly shouted. “Come on my fucking face, please!”

I couldn’t believe it. She had planned everything from the beginning. That was why the makeup, why the touch-up, why her insistence that I save it all. I went all out, thrusting into her mercilessly, then waited a few seconds—she was still coming in spasms, trembling beneath me, her pussy biting my cock—and I didn’t want to ruin it for her. I savored the moment unhurriedly, watching her face contorted with pleasure, her mouth open, the veins standing out in her neck.

At last I pulled out and removed the condom with two fingers. I wasn’t quite sure how to position myself, so I moved to the side of her face, one knee planted level with her shoulder, so everything would fall across her rather than straight down. She smiled beneath me, tongue out and eyes half-closed, offering me her face as if it were an altar.

“Do I look pretty today?” she asked, teasing me, while rubbing one tit with one hand and putting two fingers into her pussy with the other.

“You look gorgeous,” I told her, masturbating very close to her, my cock gleaming with her saliva and my own fluid. “I love your eyes.”

I wasn’t hurrying. I wanted to look at her like that, surrendered, face turned to one side, tongue peeking out, while I stroked my cock a hand’s breadth from her skin. I ran the glans over her lips and she tried to catch it with her mouth, but I pulled it away. I rubbed it over her cheek, her nose, her forehead, marking my territory. But she was impatient.

“I’ve spent an hour getting ready, you bastard! Aren’t you going to come now?” she protested, pulling her fingers from her pussy and taking them to her mouth without stopping her stare.

That was her undoing. Just then, I let go. The first burst came out with such force that it streaked diagonally across her entire face and caught in her eyelashes, hanging from one eye like a thick thread. I came again over her eyebrows, unable to believe what I was seeing. Another jet landed on her cheek and ran to the corner of her mouth; she stuck out her tongue and took whatever she could, swallowing it with a smile. She smiled and tried to say something, but fell silent each time I continued. Another shot crossed her lips and stained her teeth. Taking careful aim, I managed to hit her where she wanted too, between the lashes of her other eye, and on her forehead, and finally I let the last thicker threads fall over her upper lip and chin. The storm ended with her face covered in me. Semen ran down her eyebrows, cheekbones, and neck, all the way to the tops of her breasts.

I sat on the floor, almost dizzy, contemplating what I had done. My cock was still hard in my hand, dripping the last remnants. She remained still and silent, eyes squeezed shut, while everything slowly ran down her cheeks. Her nipples had hardened from how much she enjoyed being like that.

“What a way to come,” she said at last, without opening her eyes, her voice thick. “That’s how I like men. Men who humiliate me. Who treat me like a whore.”

I moved closer and looked at her. We were already so deeply into it that I dipped a finger into what was beside her nose and spread it over her skin, slowly, almost tenderly, smearing my own semen across her cheek, rubbing it over her lips until she opened her mouth and sucked my finger. She tried to open her eyes, but they were sealed shut by how much had landed on them. When she managed it, her blue eyes looked back at me through clumped lashes, mascara smeared down her cheek and skin gleaming beneath the lamplight. We looked at each other, believe me, with something very much like affection.

She cleaned herself just enough to be able to see, using the back of her wrist, without much fuss. We embraced, with her still smeared, and fell asleep. The next morning there was no trace of the night; her skin seemed to have absorbed everything. Recovered, I had her again as soon as we woke, this time more calmly, more normally: I embraced her from behind in bed, slowly parted her buttocks with my hand until I found her pussy still hot from the night before, and fucked her spooning-style, slowly, my mouth pressed to the nape of her neck, until I came inside the condom while she came silently, squeezing the hand I had resting on her breast.

***

During the months we were together, we couldn’t meet without ending up tangled together. And she liked it as much as I did. We made a good pair in that respect: we were both creative, daring, shameless with each other. Unfortunately, it eventually became clear that we weren’t looking for the same things in life, and little by little we drifted apart.

But I assure you: no matter how much time passes, I will never forget Hailey.