The Girlfriend Who Took Care of Her Boyfriend’s Friend Too Much

Marina was twenty-four years old and one of those women who walk into a room without meaning to. Brunette, medium height, slender, with chestnut hair falling straight to the middle of her back and green eyes that seemed to light up when she smiled. She wasn’t a magazine beauty, but she had something more dangerous: a warmth that made anyone want to stay close.

Her only flaw, if it was a flaw, was that she liked being liked. She needed people to feel comfortable around her, and that need sometimes made her too accommodating. Too easy to persuade.

She lived with Diego, her boyfriend, in a small apartment in the city center. Diego was twenty-eight, tall, hardworking, and loved her with the simple loyalty of someone who had never suspected a thing. He worked in sales and spent most of the day out of the house. And it was he who, one night, almost apologetically, asked if they could take in Tomás for a while, an old friend from high school who had suddenly lost his job and his home.

—Just a few weeks, until he gets back on his feet —Diego said—. He doesn’t have anyone else.

Marina said yes before she even thought about it. She always said yes.

The first thing she noticed when Tomás arrived with his backpack and defeated expression was that he was handsome. Very handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair always rumpled and eyes a blue that made it uncomfortable to look at them for too long. She surprised herself by staring at him more than she should, and she quickly looked down, embarrassed, as if she’d been caught doing something.

For the first few weeks, Tomás hardly talked. He ate little, slept a lot, and spent hours in front of the TV with a faraway stare. Diego left at dawn and came home at night, so Marina was the one who lived with him during the day.

And it broke Marina’s heart to see him like that.

She started taking care of him almost without realizing it. She cooked his favorite dishes, kept him company when he felt like talking, and they watched shows together in the afternoons. He’s a good guy, he’s just had bad luck, she told herself. And little by little, week by week, Tomás began to come back to life: he sent out résumés, made jokes, laughed. But that shadow remained behind his smile, the one belonging to someone who has nowhere to go back to.

***

One late-May afternoon, Marina was sitting on the sofa folding laundry, barefoot, her legs crossed. She was wearing a black tank top without a bra —her nipples stood out against the fabric— and very tight cotton shorts that rode up between her ass cheeks whenever she shifted position. Soft music played in the background and golden light came in through the window.

Tomás came out of the kitchen with a beer in his hand, still in his pajamas, his hair more disheveled than usual. He had that lazy smile of someone who’s had a couple of drinks, and with them, a boldness he usually kept in check. Marina caught sight, out of the corner of her eye, of the bulge outlined against his sweatpants and quickly looked away, feeling an uncomfortable heat rise up her neck.

—Damn, Marina… —he said, leaning on the doorframe and looking her up and down without trying to hide it—. Don’t you ever get tired of being this gorgeous all day?

She froze for a second. Then she understood: Tomás spoke on impulse, without a filter, and with alcohol in him, even less so. She decided not to take offense and looked up naturally.

—You’re so dramatic —she laughed softly, continuing to fold a T-shirt—. I’m just tidying up, otherwise Diego says it looks like a hurricane came through.

—No, seriously. —He moved closer and sat on the arm of the sofa, very near her—. I’ve been here a month and I still can’t get used to it. You’re like… I don’t know. Like someone designed the perfect girlfriend and got it right.

Marina blushed, but took it as an innocent compliment and lowered her gaze to the laundry.

—Idiot. Thanks, I guess. —She lifted her green eyes and smiled at him tenderly—. Are you feeling better now?

Tomás leaned in a little more and lowered his voice.

—I’ve been better since I got here. Especially since I’ve been seeing you move around the house. You know you have the most dangerous walk I’ve ever seen? That ass of yours is going to do me in.

—Stop it, I’m blushing. —She laughed, nervous, but she didn’t move away—. I walk normally, okay? It’s not my fault these shorts are comfortable.

—It’s not the shorts. —He lowered his voice even more, to a conspiratorial whisper—. It’s everything. The way you tie your hair up, the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking, the way your tits show under that shirt when you breathe. You’re way too… fuckable. And you know it.

Marina blinked, confused, trying to keep taking it as a good thing despite his shamelessness.

—I’m just trying to be nice —she stammered, shaking her head—. I like people being comfortable at home. And you’re Diego’s friend, so of course I want you to be okay.

Then he stretched out his hand and brushed her bare arm with his fingertips, very lightly, as if testing her.

—And what if I tell you that right now I don’t want to be “okay”? I want to be a lot better. With you. Under you. Inside you.

Marina went still, feeling the touch. She didn’t pull away. Her voice came out lower, almost sweet.

—Tomás… Don’t say things like that. Diego would be furious if he heard you.

But he didn’t take his hand back. He slowly slid it up to her shoulder, barely massaging it, and from there down to her neckline, brushing the top of her breast with his thumb.

—Diego isn’t here. And you’re here, with your nipples hard against your shirt, making yourself nervous, but not telling me to stop. —He leaned in until his breath brushed her ear—. Doesn’t that tell you something?

She swallowed. Her green eyes shone, wet, a mix of confusion and her own need not to upset anyone colliding head-on with the discomfort of the situation.

—I don’t know… —she began uncertainly, looking away—. I just want everything to be okay. I don’t want you to feel bad here. But I don’t like you talking to me like that either…

Tomás smiled, slow, victorious, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

—You’re not being rude. You’re too nice. And that’s exactly what’s had my dick hard for a month. —His voice was almost a purr—. Tell me to stop if you really want me to stop. But say it clearly. Because if you don’t say it, I’m going to think deep down you’re dying for me to fuck you on this sofa.

Marina’s breathing quickened. Lips parted, gaze lost between the laundry and the floor. She whispered, almost inaudibly:

—I don’t want you to leave feeling bad… But stop, please. Please…

He moved closer until their noses almost touched, speaking against her lips.

—Then don’t make me leave feeling bad. Let me stay a little closer.

Silence fell. The only thing you could hear was her breathing, becoming more irregular by the second. She didn’t say no. She also didn’t say yes. She stayed there, motionless, while Tomás finished sliding over until he was sitting beside her, one knee pressed to hers and his hand moving very slowly up her bare thigh.

After a few endless seconds, Marina looked him in the eyes with a mix of nerves and something deeper, almost surrender.

—Don’t make me say stop —she whispered, her voice trembling—. Because I don’t want you to stop.

And she leaned in first.

***

Their lips brushed in a softness almost shy, as if checking whether it was real. Tomás responded instantly, but without rushing, letting her set the pace. The kiss grew slowly: first tender, exploratory, then deeper, hungrier. Their tongues searched, tangled, and Marina let out a tiny moan when Tomás bit her lower lip. Marina’s hands went up to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He held her by the waist and pulled her in until she ended up straddling his lap, without breaking the kiss for even a second. As she sat down she immediately felt the hard bulge beneath his sweatpants, pressing right against her cunt through the thin fabric of her panties.

—Damn, you’re already hard, Marina —he muttered against her mouth, feeling her press against his cock—. And that’s only from a few kisses.

She smiled, eyes bright, and shifted slightly on top of him, rubbing slowly.

—Shut up and kiss me. Like that. Slower.

They devoured each other for what felt like minutes. Tomás’s hands roamed her back beneath her shirt, feeling the warm skin; with one tug he pulled the fabric up under her arms and then over her head. Marina’s tits were left bare, round, small, with dark nipples hard as stones. He let out a low growl at the sight.

—God, what tits you have. I’ve imagined them a thousand times, fuck.

He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking deeply while his hand squeezed the other breast. Marina threw her head back and let out a long moan, gripping the back of the sofa.

—Ah… like that, keep going like that… don’t stop…

Tomás moved from one breast to the other, sucking, licking, nibbling the nipples until they were shiny with saliva. She sighed every time he squeezed her waist a little tighter and kept moving her hips over him, riding him over his clothes. Marina kissed his neck, leaving wet trails that made him close his eyes, and she slid one hand down to the bulge straining his pants, squeezing him through the sweats. She felt the thickness, the hardness, the pulse, and a sigh escaped her.

—I like how you smell —she murmured, running her nose along his jaw—. And I like how hard you are. You make me feel things I shouldn’t. But I can’t stop.

—Then don’t stop —he answered, holding her tighter—. Touch it. Not through the fabric. Put your hand inside.

Marina obeyed, almost hypnotized. She slipped her hand inside his sweatpants, dodging the underwear, and when her fingers closed around his bare cock she gasped. It was hot, hard, wet with precum at the tip. She wrapped her hand around it properly and began to stroke him slowly, up and down, feeling him thicken in her hand.

—God, you’re huge —she whispered against his lips—. I didn’t think you were that big.

—All for you —he panted—. Take it out. I want to see it.

Marina drew back a little to look at him, with an expression of pure sweetness mixed with heat, and stroked his cheek with the back of her free hand. Without stopping the handjob, she leaned back slightly and tugged his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Tomás’s cock sprang free, stiff, the head swollen and shining. Marina bit her lip.

—Listen to me. This is our secret, okay? Nobody can know. Not Diego, not anyone. —She kissed the corner of his mouth without stopping stroking him—. Because if he finds out, it’s over. And I don’t want it to be over.

—I know. We’ll be careful. Very careful —he promised, his voice rough—. Suck me. Please. Just a little. I need to see your mouth on my cock.

She smiled, wicked and tender at the same time, and without saying a word she slid down to the floor, kneeling between his legs. She took his cock in both hands, held it firmly, and ran her tongue along its whole length, from his balls to the tip, very slowly, looking him in the eyes. Tomás groaned loudly.

—Fuck, Marina, fuck…

She took the head into her mouth and sucked, hollowing her cheeks. She went down slowly, swallowing what she could, feeling his cock fill her throat. She came back up, saliva running from the corner of her mouth, and licked her lips before going back down again.

—Like this… look how I suck you off… —she whispered between licks—. It’s just for us. Careful, but no less intense —she murmured—. I want you to always look at me like you’re looking at me now. Like I’m the only thing that exists. Because with you, I feel truly desired. And I love it.

She started to suck him properly, keeping a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down, making wet sounds that filled the living room. She licked his tip, took him all the way in, sucked his balls, then swallowed him again. Tomás grabbed her hair with one hand and began to set the pace, carefully fucking her mouth. She moaned with his cock inside her, salivating, letting herself go. When she felt he was close, she pulled back, panting, her lips red and swollen.

—Not yet —she said with a naughty smile—. You’re not coming yet. Come here.

She climbed back on top of him, moving softly, a subtle sway that drew a small moan from both of them. She pulled her panties aside with two fingers and showed him how wet she was, sliding her fingertips over her shiny lips.

—See what you do to me? I’m soaked. Put it in. Put it in now.

***

Several seconds passed. Marina rested her forehead against his, eyes closed, while Tomás’s hand between her legs was already sliding two fingers into her, in and out slowly. She sighed, moving her hips against his hand, as if organizing thoughts she didn’t want to let go of completely.

—I’m not doing this to hurt Diego —she said softly, almost maternally, stroking his hair while she let him finger her—. I swear. He’s good to me, he takes care of me, he loves me. But you came here wrecked. With nothing, with nowhere to go, with that face like you hadn’t slept in weeks. And every time I saw you in the kitchen staring at your phone, not knowing what to do… it broke my heart.

Tomás tried to speak, but she put a finger on his lips, a finger that smelled like her own cunt because she had just put her hand inside her panties. He sucked it, looking at her.

—It’s not just attraction, although… God, of course it is. —She smiled, embarrassed but sincere—. But mostly I can’t stand seeing you suffer. And when you look at me like I’m the only beautiful thing that’s happened to you in a long time… I can’t tell you no. I can’t say no to that cock.

She leaned in and gave him a slow, almost chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, while her hand wrapped around his cock again and stroked it.

—I know it’s wrong —she continued, pressed against him—. I know it’s crazy. But when I see you relax with me, I feel like I’m doing something good. Even if it’s a secret. Even if it’s a sin.

He held her tighter, burying his face in her neck, nibbling her shoulder.

—No one has ever looked at me like that before. Like I really mattered. No one’s ever sucked my cock the way you do.

—Then let me keep looking at you like that —she asked, kissing his forehead and closed eyelids—. Let me take care of you. But we have to be very smart, Tomás. Diego can never find out. Because if he does, he won’t just destroy us. He’ll destroy himself. And I want him to keep being happy. And I want you to be happy here too. With me. In silence. In our stolen moments.

She took his hand and brought it to her chest, over her heart, so he could feel how fast it was beating. Then she slowly lowered it to her cunt, guiding his fingers so he could slide them in again.

—Whenever we’re alone, I’m going to make you feel like you’re not alone. That someone really wants you. I’m going to suck you off, I’m going to let you fuck me however you want, I’m going to swallow everything you give me. But only when no one’s looking.

—I promise —he answered, and kissed her forehead for a long moment while he drove his fingers deep, drawing a wet moan from her.

***

Marina noticed he was trembling a little. Not from cold, but from that mix of accumulated anxiety and restrained desire he didn’t know how to let out. She felt it in his rapid breathing against her neck, in the way he clung to her waist as if afraid everything might disappear, in the way his cock throbbed hard against her belly.

—Easy —she whispered in his ear, with that voice that calmed storms—. You’re shaking. It’s okay. I’m here. Let me make you forget everything bad, even if it’s only for a while. Let me ride you so good.

Without waiting for an answer, she moved with deliberate slowness. She stood up for a moment, pulled her panties down her thighs until they fell to the floor, and stood there completely naked in front of him. Tomás looked her up and down, mouth open: the hard tits, the flat stomach, the shaved cunt shining from how wet it was. He pulled down his sweats and underwear to his ankles and kicked them off.

—Come here. Now —he asked, his voice broken.

She placed her knees on either side of his hips and, carefully, almost reverently, took his cock in one hand and positioned it at her entrance. She rubbed it first against the lips of her cunt, up and down, wetting the whole tip with her juices, grinding the head against her clit. Both of them moaned.

—Can you feel how wet I am? —she whispered—. All of this is for you. For your cock.

Tomás looked at her wide-eyed, not daring to move, as if he were afraid of breaking the moment. And then, very slowly, Marina lowered herself. The cock opened her centimeter by centimeter, and when she had him all the way inside she let out a long sigh, almost one of relief, mouth open.

—Ah… fuck… you’re so big… you’re filling me completely…

—You’re so tight —he gasped, grabbing her ass with both hands—. Shit, Marina, you’re hot inside…

She began to move with a very slow, hypnotic sway, without force, seeking only comfort. Her palms pressed to his chest, feeling his racing heart beneath her fingers. She rode his cock up and down, feeling him sink into her all the way each time she sat down, brushing a spot inside her that made her tremble. Her hips rotated in wide, slow circles, clenching harder each time she lowered herself, biting him with her cunt.

—Look me in the eyes —she asked, in a rough voice, gently forcing him not to look away—. Like this. Breathe with me. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me give you this. Let me make you feel desired. Safe. Let me milk your cock with my cunt.

Tomás let out a low moan, his hands moving up her thighs to her hips, not to guide her, but to cling to her like an anchor. Marina leaned forward, her tits brushing his face, and he caught one nipple with his mouth, sucking while she rode him. She kissed his neck, his jaw, the corner of his mouth, never stopping that calm cadence.

—Do you feel how all the bad stuff is dissolving? —she whispered—. This is for you. Just for you. Watch it go in and out, watch me do this to you…

She leaned back a little, bracing herself with her hands on his knees, and started bouncing harder, faster. Her tits bobbed with every drop, her ass slapped against Tomás’s thighs with a wet sound. He watched her spellbound, seeing how his cock disappeared inside her, shining with her juices, and came out again to sink back in once more.

—Like that… like that… oh god, that feels so good… —Marina moaned, biting her lip—. Tell me how much of a slut I am. Tell me.

—You’re a horny slut —he panted, gripping her ass—. Fucking your boyfriend’s friend on his own sofa. What a filthy slut you are.

—Yeah… I’m your slut now… your little slut, just for you…

She sped up a little more, just enough for him to feel the heat, the surrender. She wasn’t aiming for a quick climax, but to prolong the feeling of closeness, though the sex was becoming more and more intense, dirtier. She leaned forward and asked him to change positions. Tomás lifted her up, turned her around, and set her on all fours on the sofa, ass in the air.

He knelt behind her and slammed his cock into her in one thrust. Marina cried out, face pressed into the cushions.

—Oh god, yes, like that, fuck me, fuck me hard!

Tomás grabbed her hips and started pounding her hard, driving all the way in, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in again. The sofa creaked. Marina’s ass bounced against his pelvis with a meaty slap that echoed through the living room. She arched her back, propped on her elbows, moaning louder and louder.

—Keep going, keep going… harder… break me… —she panted through her teeth—. Let the whole neighborhood know how good you fuck me…

He spanked her ass, leaving his handprint. Marina gave a sharp cry.

—Again. Give me another one.

Tomás slapped her again, still driving into her without slowing down. He grabbed her hair with one hand, tugging gently, forcing her to arch her back even more, and with the other he found her clit and started rubbing it while he kept fucking her from behind.

—Ah, ah, ah… I’m going to come… like this… don’t stop… don’t stop, fuck…

Marina started trembling, her whole body tense. Her cunt clenched around Tomás’s cock, milking him in spasms, and she came with a muffled cry against the cushions, biting the fabric so she wouldn’t wake the neighbors. He held on, still inside her, letting her contractions squeeze him, panting.

When she was still shaking, he pulled out gently and asked her to lie on her back. Marina let herself go limp, legs open, offering herself completely. Tomás positioned himself over her, slid her legs over his shoulders, and thrust back inside her to the hilt. She let out a long moan at how deep he was.

—Now you —she whispered, caressing his face with both hands—. Now you, my love. Come inside. I want to feel it.

Tomás pounded her harder, folding her against the sofa, the weight of his body pressing her down. Wet sounds filled the room, the kisses, the gasps, the slap of bodies.

—When you’re close —she told him, brokenly but still tender—, let it out. Let me take it all. I want to carry your sadness, your fear. Everything. Empty your balls in me. Fill my cunt, don’t pull out, I want to feel it hot inside.

He gasped, head thrown back. Marina squeezed his ass with both hands, pulling him toward her, forcing him to sink even deeper. She felt him tense, felt his cock throb inside her a second before.

—I’m coming… Marina, I’m coming… ah, fuck…

—Yeah, inside, inside, all inside… —she whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe.

When he hit the edge, she pressed herself to him, held him tight around the neck, and kissed him deeply while he emptied himself inside her with a muffled groan against her mouth. She felt the hot spurts one after another, filling her up inside, and a long moan escaped her from sheer pleasure. He kept pushing slowly for a few more seconds, squeezing out the last drops, while she stroked his back.

She didn’t stop completely: she kept moving very slowly, prolonging the aftershocks, soothing him with caresses in his hair. When he finally slipped out, a thick white thread dribbled from her cunt onto the sofa. Marina laughed softly and gathered it with two fingers, bringing them to her mouth.

—That’s it. It’s over —she whispered, her lips pressed to his temple, rocking him—. You’re calmer now, right? That’s what I wanted. For you to feel at peace.

She stayed on top of him, holding him, the two of them breathing in unison, sweaty, calm, smelling like sex.

***

The next morning, Marina opened her eyes slowly and stared at the note Diego had left her on the bedside table before going to work: a badly drawn heart and “I love you, see you this afternoon.”

She smiled. She turned toward the ceiling. There was no guilt on her face, only a strange calm, almost serene. She got up, walked barefoot to the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was messy, her lips still a little swollen, a reddish mark on her neck she would have to cover. Her cunt felt sore, grateful, and she could still feel a sticky trickle sliding along the inside of her thigh. She didn’t look away in disgust or guilt: she simply watched, as if checking that everything had gone well.

She turned on the hot water, wet a small towel, and started cleaning herself with slow, almost affectionate movements. She ran the towel between her legs, removing the dried semen, and surprised herself by smiling. While she did it, she spoke softly to herself, finishing a conversation that had begun the night before.

—It wasn’t just fucking for fucking’s sake —she murmured, softly—. I was helping him. Just helping him breathe better. Sleep without nightmares. Wake up today with a little light in his eyes.

She looked at herself again and smiled without malice.

—If Tomás is happy, Diego will notice. And if his friend is okay, Diego will be calmer at home. It all fits. —She chuckled under her breath, like someone who has just solved an easy puzzle—. It’s like I’m taking care of both of them at once. Without anyone having to suffer.

She splashed cold water on her face and stood there for a second with both hands on the edge of the sink, looking at her reflection. Her green eyes shone with an almost childlike clarity.

—I’m not cheating on Diego —she whispered, convinced—. I’m giving him a happier friend. A calmer home. That’s not betrayal. That’s… love. The kind that makes other people better without them knowing why.

She put on a short satin robe, tied the belt in a loose knot, and went out into the hallway. Tomás was in the living room, sitting on the made-up sofa bed with a cup of coffee in his hand. When he saw her, he looked up and his eyes lit up. A shy but genuine smile appeared on his face.

—Good morning —she greeted him, warm-voiced—. Did you sleep well?

—Like I haven’t in weeks —he replied, not taking his eyes off her—. Thanks to you.

Marina walked over, bent down, and gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, stroking his hair for a second. She took the chance, and with a mischievous smile, slid her hand inside his pants for an instant, gently squeezing his flaccid cock.

—Tonight, when Diego falls asleep, I want you to come get me in the bathroom —she whispered in his ear—. And you can fuck me like that again, real good.

She straightened up and smiled as if nothing had happened.

—I’m going to make coffee. Want toast?

And she headed into the kitchen humming some random song. In her mind, everything made perfect sense: Tomás lighter, Diego happier to see him that way, and her in the middle, being the bridge, the one who cares, the one who helps. No guilt. Just that peace of hers, the peace of someone who truly believes she’s doing the right thing.