What My First Love Did at My Friend’s House

The sun beat straight into our faces on the highway as we headed back from the last move of the morning. I hated carrying furniture up endless staircases, but I needed the money to keep paying for college in the city. Ever since I left to study Architecture, I spent summers working for Bruno’s uncle’s moving company, with Bruno — my best friend — sprawled in the back with his phone glued to his face.

“Seriously, I never told you about that party?” I said, with my sneakers up on the dashboard. “Bruno stepped in when some guy was about to take the girl home. He kept insisting we go on drinking at his place, and the three of us ended up in the same bed.”

“She was screaming her head off,” he added from the back, never taking his eyes off the screen.

Bruno was a year older than me. In the village, everyone knew him: the classic high school stud who got with every girl thanks to his looks and easy smile. They called him The Wolf. He’d earned the nickname because he was always horny, chasing women like an animal until he got them into bed. He was never the smartest, which is why he’d stayed here, getting by however he could in his grandparents’ house.

He leaned between the two front seats and shoved his phone in my face. A girl was appearing completely naked, biting her lip, wearing a tiny pink thong.

“Isn’t that Noelia Cano, the redhead with green eyes?” I asked, recognizing a girl who was a year below me. “Fuck, she’s hot.”

“She sent that to me this morning. She wants to meet up again,” he said, waving a hand. “She’s a pain, but I’m still fucking her tonight.”

It was incredible how easily he got women. For me, it was hell. I lacked that spark, that shamelessness. I just nodded, resigned.

***

When I got back to the shop, my phone buzzed. It was Carla. “Are you home today?” I read it twice, with a strange tingling in my stomach, and answered that she should come by later.

As kids, Carla used to come into my room all the time to watch movies and read. She moved into the neighborhood, into her grandmother’s house, when we were in fifth grade, and from then on we were inseparable. She was my first love: the first innocent kiss, families who knew each other, everything perfect. We broke up when we started secondary school, and at sixteen, just when I’d worked up the nerve to ask her out again, she left the village. My mother told me that this summer she’d come back for a few days to stay with her grandmother. She was studying Veterinary Medicine. I hadn’t seen her in years.

I found her waiting at my building entrance in a blue sweatshirt, her hair loose and dyed a light brown instead of the black it always used to be, and a messy fringe framing those huge eyes. We walked for hours, talking about how much we’d changed. My heart raced every time the wind moved her hair. In the end she said she wanted to reread a book I’d lent her when she was little, and we ended up in my room, like old times.

“Your room smells exactly like I remembered,” she said, rising onto her tiptoes to reach the book from the highest shelf. “It makes me feel a little at home.”

My eyes drifted without meaning to toward her hips. She’d put on a bit of weight since the last time, especially in her ass, now rounder. The way she pushed it back didn’t help. I looked away, embarrassed by myself.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked as she leafed through The Garden of Mists.

“Not right now. One day I’m with one girl, the next with another. I like my freedom,” I lied. If I told her the truth, I’d sound pathetic.

“I’ve been with a few guys too,” she replied, with a shadow of sadness that lasted a heartbeat. “I stopped being a kid a long time ago.”

“Mateo!” The shout came through the window. I knew it was The Wolf just from the tone.

I went out to the door. Bruno, scratching his belly, had come to borrow my console because his latest conquest had ditched him. I gave it to him and went back inside.

“How can your best friend be someone like that?” Carla asked. “I never saw you talk.”

“You left. You don’t know what we’ve done since then,” I defended myself, and handed her my phone with photos from a trip to the Balearics. As she swiped, an incoming message from Bruno appeared and I tapped it by mistake. “A promise is a promise. Don’t yank it too much.” The redhead, naked. The blood drained from my face.

“And that girl?” she asked with fake indifference, zooming in. “She looks a bit like me, don’t you think?”

“No way! You only have the same hair color,” I laughed nervously, hurriedly putting the phone away.

“If you say so…” She stood up and stretched her arms like a cat. “Because I’d swear she has my same eyes. Though mine are bigger. What do you think?” She walked to the door and turned back. “I hope you don’t jerk off too much. Especially not to someone who looks like me.”

The door clicked shut. I sat on the bed, breathing hard, with a bulge impossible to hide. I took out my phone and opened the photo. It wasn’t her, but I couldn’t stop seeing her through Carla’s eyes, hearing her voice laughing at me in my head. I came in less than a minute. Carla was back, and for an instant I felt happy again.

***

The next day, Bruno didn’t show up to work. His uncle, Rosendo, sent me to find him, a vein bulging on his forehead. I parked in front of his house, the last one before the fields, and went in through the garden. Moans of pleasure were coming from the open window. I peeked inside.

Bruno was watching a homemade video of himself with the redhead, filmed on that very sofa, while he masturbated with no shame at all.

“Asshole, you didn’t come to work and your uncle nearly killed us,” I snapped at him. He didn’t even flinch.

“Noelia texted me this morning. I lost track of time,” he replied, without stopping his hand, bragging about every position they’d tried.

My eyes drifted for a second, unable to stop themselves. He was working himself slowly, his huge hand barely able to wrap around it, the veins standing out like ropes under the skin. He lived in a constant state of arousal, something almost animal. I lowered my gaze to my feet. What the hell am I doing watching my friend jerk off?

“Hey, can you give me a ride to the shop on your bike tomorrow?” he asked with complete naturalness. “My uncle isn’t coming to get me.”

“Sure. I’m going to the betting shop tonight.”

***

That night, one of those crazy bets I place on impulse paid off big, and I won three hundred and fifty euros. I was heading home when a sharp cry stopped me halfway there.

“Hey! Wait for me!”

Carla was coming toward me at a quick pace. She wore a white tank top that hugged her curves and a dark skirt that swayed with every step, halfway down her thigh. My heart jumped.

“Have you been drinking?” I offered her my arm. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright.

“Just a little,” she replied, spinning around. The skirt lifted for an instant. “Why don’t you invite me to your place and we have one? I get really affectionate when I drink.”

“I’m not going to take advantage of you, Carla.”

She stopped dead and moved until she was right in front of me, leaning in, with a neckline that left little to the imagination. She jabbed a finger into my chest.

“I’m not a kid, Mateo. I’ve been drinking, so what? I know exactly what I want,” she said, without raising her voice, with that almost angelic expression that made my whole body tremble.

We went toward the neighborhood shop, but the shutter was already coming down. Right at the door we ran into the last person I expected: Bruno, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He gave me an effusive hug and greeted Carla with two too-long kisses.

“I’m Bruno. You were at our school, right?”

“I’m Carla. They called you The Wolf,” she answered with a polite smile.

“You never told me you knew this beauty,” he said to me, throwing an arm around my neck. “Where were you going?”

“To my place, for a couple of drinks.”

“Are you going to fuck? Lucky you,” he blurted out without filter.

“What do you think? Just because you’re alone with someone means you’re going to spread your legs?” Carla snapped, furrowing her brow.

“I’m just saying if I went off alone with a hot girl like you, we’d end up fucking. I’d make her come all night.”

The three of us fell into a thick silence. I tried to break it as best I could.

“No way… Carla’s like a sister to me. I wouldn’t touch a hair on her head.”

She blinked slowly and pressed her lips together, as if something I’d said had upset her.

“Well, I see her as a woman. And what a woman,” Bruno snorted. “Why don’t you come to my place? We’re closer.”

“Yeah,” Carla cut in, looking at me sideways. “I’m sure the three of us will have a great time. Since I’m his ‘almost sister.’”

***

Bruno didn’t stop stringing jokes together on the way. At first Carla ignored him, arms crossed, but she found it harder and harder to hide her smile. By the time we arrived, she was bent over laughing. I had barely said a word. I knew she was ignoring me, and I could tell he enjoyed doing it.

The living room smelled strong, thick, of sex. Carla sat on the green sofa; I, with the image of Bruno jerking off there at noon still fresh in my mind, chose the armchair in the corner. He came back from the kitchen with three shot glasses and filled them to the brim with whiskey.

“To this new friendship,” he toasted, downing it in one gulp before dropping down beside Carla and stretching his arm behind her. “What do you remember about me?”

“That you hit on every girl because you were good-looking,” she replied between laughs. “And now you’re trying the same thing with me. It’s not going to work.”

I felt a shiver when I saw the gleam in his eyes. I knew that look: it was the exact moment he’d chosen a target.

“Don’t be so mean,” he said, resting a hand on her knee. “Did I tell you I’m really good at massages?”

“Well, here’s your first ‘no’,” she said, shaping her lips into a perfect ring.

“For now,” he replied darkly.

The conversation went on, and I felt more and more invisible. They had another round, and the flirting went forward as if they’d spent the whole night at it. Their lines got bolder, their looks lasted longer. Carla no longer turned to check whether I was listening. Fed up with waiting for a turn that maybe had never existed, I went to the kitchen with the bottle. I made myself a whiskey and cola and took a long drink while laughter erupted in the living room.

When I came back, Bruno was leaning in to whisper something in her ear. His fingers were already much higher, stroking the inside of her thighs under her skirt. She looked away and, for an instant, I thought I saw a shadow of doubt.

“Where’s the bathroom?” she said, standing up abruptly. “And don’t you even think about following me.”

She walked away, swaying her hips. Bruno didn’t take his eyes off her ass. I slumped in the armchair.

“Dude, leave her alone. She doesn’t want anything.”

“Relax,” he hissed. “She’s horny, she just needs to lose her nerve. When they say ‘no,’ a lot of the time they mean ‘push a little more.’ In the end they give in. They all give in.”

I was sure he was wrong. She wasn’t like the others. The heat was suffocating and the alcohol weighed on my head. I let my head fall back against the cushion and closed my eyes for a moment, with one question pounding inside me: why is she taking so long?

“Let go.” Bruno’s voice pulled me out of my daze. I’d dozed off. I opened my eyes.

Carla was sitting next to him, her hair pulled into a bun and her face red, one hand resting on his thigh. How long had I had my eyes closed?

“What if we take off some clothes?” Bruno suggested, getting up with way too much intent.

“What are yo…?”

Carla’s words cut off sharply. She opened her mouth and eyes wide. Bruno had pulled down his pants and flung them to the floor, inches from her face. I saw her swallow.

“You started this,” he said, swinging his cock in his hand. “How about you help me a little?”

Every muscle in my body tightened at once. I wanted to move, but it was like having concrete blocks on my ankles.

“Dude, knock it off,” I managed to say.

“Okay… a little and then you get dressed,” she murmured.

Carla leaned toward the edge of the sofa and her hand replaced Bruno’s. Her fingers, thin and trembling, couldn’t quite wrap around him. They slid slowly down the whole length and then back up with the same rhythm. The way they were looking at each other was killing me.

“Do you like it?” he panted. “Because this is hard for you.”

“Or maybe you’re just a perv who gets hard with anyone who breathes?” she said with a crooked smile, squeezing him tighter, wetting her lips with her tongue. “Though… you are hard as a rock. I’ll admit that.”

She was masturbating him with that innocent little face of hers while he matched the motion with his hips. I didn’t recognize this Carla.

“That’s enough. Put your clothes back on,” he finally stopped, breathing hard.

“Do you think I’m going to let you leave without coming?” he ignored her, sitting back down beside her.

“No, wait, ah… stop…”

His huge body blocked my view. The moans lessened, replaced by gasps. I rubbed my forehead and, when I reached for my glass, I understood: his hand was buried under her skirt. The wet sound left no doubt. Carla clenched her teeth and dug her nails into his forearm, not to push him away, but to keep from moaning.

“No… mmm… stop…,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to…”

“But you’re soaking,” he growled. “And Mateo doesn’t mind.”

He held up his fingers, shining, and gestured for me to join in. I shook my head. He took the blanket from the backrest and lay down beside her, covering both their bodies. The movement beneath the fabric was constant; only their heads were visible.

“Spe… ah… ah…” A cry escaped from under the blanket, deep, torn.

“Stop… don’t keep going…” I heard her beg, though her voice no longer sounded like resistance.

A high-pitched ringing settled in my ears. The sofa creaked with every thrust, each one harder than the last. I stood up; I needed to move.

“What are you doing under there?” I asked, though I feared the answer.

“Fucking,” Bruno replied, pulling the blanket aside as if the obvious could be hidden.

The sight shook me to the core. Carla had her top pulled up and her skirt bunched around her waist. Bruno, behind her, was holding her by one thigh while he drove into her without slowing down. It seemed impossible that he could be going in and out so easily. She was sobbing, shattered by pleasure, mouth parted and body surrendered to that brutal rhythm.

I held back a gag and dug my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t shout. He flipped her over, put her on all fours, and drove into her again in one motion, gripping her hips.

“Don’t look,” she whispered, her face buried between her arms, not stopping her movements. “Leave.”

“Let him stay,” Bruno laughed. “You love it.”

Carla bit her lip and shook her head, fighting not to give in in front of me. Suddenly she sat up, clenched her ass, and rolled her eyes back.

“I’m coming… I’m coming…,” she sobbed, clawing at the fabric of the armrest before breaking apart in a sharp moan.

“I’m about to,” he announced, voice broken.

“Please… pull out… I could get pregnant…,” she begged, trembling.

Bruno pulled out at the last second and came over her ass before collapsing onto the sofa, exhausted. I couldn’t take any more. I went to the window and threw up everything inside me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and brushed away the tears.

“Disgusting! You fucked me bareback,” Carla said, fists clenched, her knuckles white. “What if you give me something? You’re a pig. I’m leaving.”

She fixed her clothes as best she could, with semen still dripping down her legs. Bruno leaned over her.

“That was incredible. Stay the night.”

“I never want to see you again,” she spat, and stormed out, slamming the door.

***

That was months ago now. Carla went back to the city soon after, and we’ve barely spoken since. I know she was never mine, that I built the wrong idea in my head about what that reunion meant. I know it, and even so it doesn’t comfort me.

Every time I think of her, something stirs inside me. It isn’t anger. It isn’t nostalgia, not entirely. It’s something softer and crueller at the same time.

That hollow feeling in your stomach that only your first love can cause. The one that never really goes away.